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eureka-its-zico · 3 months ago

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Chaos in Their Bones: Wanted

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: After the defeat of Arlong, at Arlong Park, the five of you promised to yourselves, and each other, to achieve your dreams on your way to the Grand Line helping Luffy search for the One Piece. It seems simple enough, except for the minor detail that you died. Coming back from the brink of death, Zoro and the others have noticed you haven’t been the same. You aren’t sure if it’s Death himself chasing after you or something far more sinister. But facing your inner demons won’t be the only fight you’ll have to worry about when family comes calling.

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: established relationship, idiots to lovers, angst, mentions of smut, (will add stuff later) it’s an adventure, y’all!

Words: 6.3+

A/N: Hello my darlings! It is I! Your resident clown! I hope you are all doing well!! Finally, I have finished the prologue to my version of One Piece filler. I am so incredibly excited to share this with you guys while we wait for the next season of OPLA to arrive! I’m even more excited to share in this journey with all of you. This first chapter is pretty heavy and gives a brief backstory to what took place in season one with CITB, just in case anyone comes in reading this one first.. I’ll always do my best to make sure there are proper warnings in place for each chapter and, if I ever happen to miss one, please let me know. Now, let us properly get on with our new adventure. As always, I hopeyou all enjoy this! Much much love, Jenn

p.s. shout out to @deadneverlander for always being my clown bestie and the bestest editor-in-chief

Warnings: mentions of previous torture, trauma, and gore

Chaos in Their Bones Master List

It was odd how the body adjusted to change before the mind realized what was happening. How Zoro could barely remember when he’d strictly stopped thinking of just singularly him and began to think about them. The one specific goal he’d carried with him his whole life - an armor that entombed him - suddenly no longer held the same weight as it had before.

Zoro was part of a crew now. It felt unbelievable when he thought about it, but he wasn’t a part of just any crew.

Zoro was a part of Luffy’s crew - his first mate.

Kuina always told him he needed to lighten up. Get some friends. If only she could see him now. A band of misfits who’d become family.

(Except for the waiter. Zoro still wasn’t sure about that guy.)

That one word, family, bounced around the inside of his skull, shattering every ounce of the solitary life he still tried to hold on to. After Kuina died he used their promise for a solid reason for his loneliness. It protected him - shielded him from having to go out and be a part of the world. While others thought he led a lonely life, Zoro believed it was simply a life free from distractions. A life centered around one goal, a promise, and that didn’t allow room for error.

And then everything changed the minute a boy in a straw hat stumbled on him tied up in a yard. Zoro recalled how instantly he’d found Luffy annoying; a pest. A nuisance in the form of gangly limbs and possibly too much leg, until Luffy asked him one simple question: “Is that all you are? Is that all you want?”

It surprised the hell out of him when he’d considered answering him. It surprised him even more when he did. Luffy didn’t laugh when Zoro told him, either. Instead, he listened and looked at Zoro like it was more than a possibility. Anything felt possible when you were with Luffy. The words spilled out of him with such conviction he was sure they could raise Kuina from the dead. He wasn’t sure why he’d even answered Luff. Once he did there was no denying his words had solidified a belief in Luffy that Zoro’s dream wasn’t just a possibility, but that Zoro would succeed in doing it.

The only person who’d shared in his dream believed it would become a reality the harder they trained, had been Kuina. Sharing your hopes and dreams with another person was one of the deepest connections you could inadvertently make. Suddenly, just from sharing a few words, your entire being was stripped bare. Open for everyone to see down to the very marrow of your bones who you were and, because of this, Zoro didn’t share lightly. He couldn��t risk someone laughing at him or telling him he never stood a chance.

The Demon Pirate Hunter would burn the heavens down if it meant he could get what he wanted.

So, Zoro waited for Luffy to laugh in his face. To try and curse his spirit along with his dream. Instead, Luffy believed just as vehemently as Zoro believed in himself. The possibilities were endless. One distraction - addition - to his life was something he could handle.

Then Zoro stumbled upon you and having just one more distraction didn’t seem all that bad.

Suddenly, being the world’s greatest swordsman wasn’t all he wanted.

He wanted you too.

The universe seemingly conjured you into existence - a magical pain in his ass. The more he’d tried to deny his feelings, the more annoyingly louder they grew. If fate was real, it had a terrible sense of humor - reminding Zoro a little too often that even the best-laid plans carried detours.

Neither of you was willing to admit that the universe seemed to be playing a cruel joke. The universal bingo card the two of you carried, chock-full of goals and aspirations, and not a single mention of…well, not a mention of either of you were on it.

Zoro didn’t believe in fates. Magical beings who dictated your future and the outcomes of your life and the supposed powers they wielded in who entered and left. He could be incredibly stubborn. You called him hard-headed. He just liked to think of it as knowing what he wanted. The universe proved to beat him at his own stubborn game, however. He’d been a fool to try and reject what everyone saw, but Zoro and you…the two of you felt it.

Falling in love with you had been as easy as breathing.

He tried to deny it for so long - his tunnel vision widening just to catch glimpses of you - bright and warm and alive to cast sunshine into the hollowest parts of him. The ones he’d left empty ever since Kuina died. He protected himself from having to feel that overwhelming feeling of grief again. No matter what anyone said, it never got better. It didn’t get easier. You just slowly learned to live with the empty space their loss created and, because of this, Zoro never allowed people to get too close.

His drinking kept him languid and carefree.

Zoro didn’t believe in magic.

It wasn’t in his nature to believe in things he couldn’t see - couldn’t feel their weight in the palms of his hands to make or break his world. The very idea of magic alone was the biggest unseen force he could think of. But when you looked at him, cheeks rosy with a blush he gave you, he swore he’d become a believer. The world was brighter, anything was possible, and the stars in your reflected a constellation of every step you’d ever taken that led you to one another.

He didn’t think it was possible for his world to shift - to change - all over again until that night in your room.

Zoro stood there paralyzed - transfixed. Cool, remain cool were the words that darted through his head but how could he? He’d spent all day endlessly teasing you. Every chance he got to bump against you, shamelessly removing his shirt just to feel the hunger of your gaze slid over his skin, or to dip his hands low, impossibly lower, was a chance he had to take. Just to make your cheeks flush that pretty pink hue that was just for him.

He wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t miss the heat that shimmered underneath. How could he miss it when he’d felt it too? The pleasure in knowing he was the cause for every heavy breath that rose in your chest. Pupils blown wide and body preening at his touch. No matter the breath that stuttered out of you or the looks you gave, Zoro remained in control.

Perfect. Control.

Until he’d opened his door to find you covered only in a towel, droplets cascading down your skin and those eyes - god your eyes - looking at him like that.

Cool. Play it fucking cool.

He’d repeated it to himself over and over. A mantra that wasn’t much of a mantra because he was failing miserably. Even after he admitted he’d been waiting to hear you make it safely back to your room. He would’ve left it at that - teasing you one more time to have that good ol’ blush of yours see him off to bed. But then his eyes caught the way your hands protectively tightened on the towel.

The way you self-consciously hide the worst of the damage that Arlong - that fucking fishman - and his men had done. You tried so fucking hard to make everyone believe you were okay. The wounds on your body practically all but healed, while some were slowly beginning to show they’d remain as scars. He worried that you’d see yourself as less because of it. How could he get you to see that your scars were beautiful because those scars meant that you were still here. With him.

But Zoro knew the scars that plagued you the heaviest were in your mind.

You thought you were less because of them but, god you were so much more because of them. And suddenly, hiding inside the safety of his room didn’t matter anymore.

Zoro had to show you - make you understand - how remarkable you were. Arlong and his men could never take away the way his breath still caught - trapped and frantic - in his throat every time he looked at you. You’d been doing it since that first night at Kaya’s: his eyes held prisoner as his gaze helplessly followed your every move.

Even when you were a brat and stole his glass of wine.

He didn’t think it was possible for the feelings that brewed behind the safety of his walls could get worse. To overwhelm and flood his senses until what little common sense he had left evaporated completely.

He was wrong.

That night, Zoro learned the only thing prettier than your blush was the sounds you made. Just for him.

Always for him.

He knew everything changed that night in your room. And how could it not? The desire to touch you, show you with his mouth, his body, all of him, every piece of himself that you’d claimed, just how much you were a part of him. How deeply you’d woven yourself into the fabric of his being, hollowed out his bones, and made a home.

There was an unmistakable connection Zoro felt towards you. It was something new that he’d never felt. He didn’t know what to call it. Love? How could one word seem to hold so much weight? The power to plant flowers in the garden of his rage or completely shatter it. There was no fucking in between and that was frightening.

Fucking terrifying

Zoro couldn’t formulate words to describe the invisible teether that coiled around you both. Or the fear it created. A terror like a serpent that constricted tighter and tighter around his heart, more and more with every passing second. If Arlong could take you. If he could…you almost…

No no, don't fucking think it! Don’t speak it.

The reality was it could happen again.

The fear of someone taking you - hurting you - became all too real.

He’d almost lost you.

Zoro would never admit to it. Say it out loud or allow it any space during his waking day. But when he was asleep the fear threatened to slip through his control. It formed itself into nightmares that painted out every outcome that could’ve happened in vivid detail. Painted in tragic detail into the whites of his eyes on how close he’d come to saying goodbye.

Save me… pirate hunter…

He had saved you, hadn’t he?

That day haunts his waking hours even now. It’s what wrestles him awake even with your head tucked underneath his chin, his arm draped across your back, and the steady beating of your heart pulsing against his chest. He’d arrived busting through Arlong’s gate with Luffy and crew, his breath caught in his throat not knowing what they’d find.

What greeted him was the last thing Zoro thought he’d find. Your body, crucified, arms painfully splayed to make a perfect T shape. Gore. It was the only way his mind could describe it - screaming at him not to look. You were a decorated gory masterpiece. All the light and sunshine of who you were was dimmed in a blanket of blood. The stench of burned flesh clung to his nose the way the taste of chopper lodged itself in the back of his throat.

You seemed so lifeless. So fucking lifeless. Zoro felt his knees threaten to give out on him in seconds. You couldn’t be alive. It shouldn’t have been possible, but he listened as the chains chimed at your movement. A fucked up wind chime of dread and hope that carried on the wind and told him all he needed to know.

You were alive.

Zoro could still save you. With that knowledge blacking out all reason, Zoro created hell inside the walls of Arlong Park. He would do it over and over, becoming a demon, a king of monsters, to burn down the world if it meant saving you.

And yet…it almost hadn’t been enough.

There were times Zoro wondered if this is how you felt as you watched him give himself up to Mihawke. He could still remember the look of agony that bloomed across your face. The way it stole the spark Zoro loved to see in your eyes, bleeding them dry until all that was left was an emptiness that he gave you.

Zoro had willingly gone to death.

And you saved him.

You cared for him even then - when he didn’t deserve it - after everything he’d done to try and prove to you, and himself, that the universe was wrong. It was just a sick joke to believe that fate itself had woven you both from such different clothes to somehow make each other whole. Zoro gnashed his teeth, swore, and fought his own demons to try and prove he didn’t need you - want you - but he’d been a goner the second he opened the guest room door.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that you packed one hell of a punch.

Zoro could still feel your knuckles connecting perfectly on his nose. The impact of it shocked him so hard it’s what caused him to lose his grip on the well. It was a damn good hit.

He’d woken up to the emptiness of a bed Zoro shared with you. In the privacy of the cabin you both now called home, Zoro would admit dread tied his stomach in knots. That it spurred his legs to swing over the edge of the bed and his hands to furiously move around the room looking for clothes. All thoughts he used to have about pretending he wasn’t looking for you - searching for you - when he always had been, dissipated with his next breath.

Even still… Zoro had almost died and came back more or less himself. Deep down, however, In the dark recesses of his mind, a nagging voice reminded him endlessly that something was… off. Something was wrong.

Wrong with you.

Zoro hated that he even entertained the thought. In the privacy of his own head, it still felt like a betrayal. A dishonor of the trust you’d placed with him. He tried to knock the thoughts away because now wasn’t the fucking time. You were missing – again – in the middle of the night. He had to find you but no matter how hard he knocked away the nagging thoughts of growing questions, the voices persisted.

Nami was the first to notice, which wasn’t surprising. She was always carefully crafting plans and backup plans with backups to the backup plans if those fell through. Zoro came to understand the second they stepped into a room, that Nami was twelve steps ahead of everyone else. Her eyes scanned the room for marks - the weakest links in the chain of command - so that was why it wasn’t surprising, not in the least, that Nami noticed the oddities about your recent behavior first.

“She’s doing it again.” “Doing what again?” Every time Nami brought it up, Zoro couldn’t keep the irritation from shifting heavily in his tone. The annoyance at throwing around large sacks of grain that the waiter just had to have turned his mood even more sour. More than the fact Usopp somehow magically disappeared from having to help load all of this below deck. Zoro followed Nami’s gaze until it landed on you. A hand wrapped around the rope of one of the sails with your eyes turned out towards the sea. Zoro imagined a passing ship would think you were a statue the way you barely moved. Shit, he even started to worry if you were even breathing. Unlucky for them, this wasn’t the first time you’d started doing this. Your eyes focused out on the ocean, almost as if you were searching either the water or somewhere farther. “She’s just looking at the waves.” “No,” Nami replied, a shake in her head reflecting the word. Just the one word alone held a lifetime of worry as her eyes cautiously watched your head tilt. A motion that spoke volumes of words being carried on the wind and you were listening. “It’s like she’s hearing something, or someone, speaking.” “Yeah, it’s the sound of the birds above us. I think they’re called seagulls,” Zoro shot back. Zoro didn’t know why he needed to protest their concerns so much. Zoro had his own but when it came to you a protectiveness he couldn’t fathom seized every last available brain cell. Their words sent his body immediately to defend you even though Nami’s concerns only voiced the ones he was too afraid to say himself. His words earned him a glare from Nami as she moved next to him. A hand playfully smacked his shoulder, but her eyes never strayed from you. “No, you asshole, not the birds. It’s like someone is… talking to her.”

Zoro had thought Nami was crazy. She had to be. You were fine. She was just being a protective mother hen again, which she’d promised you she wouldn’t do anymore. The look on his face must have said the same thing causing her eyes to narrow in on him all before her chin jutted out towards your direction. He wanted to call Nami crazy, but when Zoro glanced back at where you stood, your head was cocked further to the side. Your lips parted, eyes focused, like you were about to reply.

A few days after that incident on the deck you began talking in your sleep. It started off as grumbles and grunts until it graduated to lazy words and, finally, short sentences that burst from between your lips in reply. Sometimes though, the voice that came out of you… it didn’t sound like your own. The words hissing and breaking from your lips in jagged whispers that raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

The worst part was, if Zoro asked you, you’d never remember or know you’d done it. Zoro had promised to save you, and he had. So, why did he feel like he’d been too late?

And that thought alone is what startled him awake.

Zoro finally located a pair of pants that he’d thrown haphazardly in his earlier haste to get into bed. Your scent was still pressed into the sheets - pressed into his skin. It was enough to inform him you’d been there beside him. He hadn’t been dreaming - not that he would since you’d both agreed that him sleeping over in your room just made sense.

He didn’t bother putting on his boots. The only thing he made sure to grab was the Wado Ichimonji that rested on his side of the bed. You’d strictly forbidden him from sleeping with it in the actual bed after you woke up with the hilt pressed against your ribs.

The sheets had long since gone cold and that told him wherever you’d gone, it’d been a while since you’d left. Zoro wasn’t known for having tact or being quiet. If he was being honest, Nami often called him a brute and she wasn’t incredibly far off. He didn’t have any plans to quietly walk out of the bedroom or make his footsteps dainty soft like a whisper. He didn’t have time for pleasantries.

He didn’t bother wasting time looking for you in the kitchen. There had only been a handful of times he’d caught you bravely traipsing around the waiter's kitchen. Banging his beloved pots and pans around like you had a death wish. Zoro wasn’t too keen on hearing him bitch later about the sanctity of a man’s kitchen and his utensils after Sanji had caught you. Zoro was, however, willing to admit the food you’d prepared that night tasted a thousand times sweeter knowing Sanji would be having a heart attack about it later.

No. By now, Zoro knew there was one place and one place only that he would find you.

With the swaying of the ship under his feet, Zoro made his way towards the stern. The Wado clutched tightly in his fist in a weak attempt to keep him grounded. He ran a hand through the mossy haphazard strands of his hair in hopes of soothing its messy state but knew he was only making it worse. His fingers tugging too violently like he could rip his thoughts out by the roots.

There was nothing he should be worried about - you were fine. He was going to walk up those stairs and find you just enjoying the night breeze. It was what he needed to see because he didn’t know what to say if he didn’t find you standing there. How he could fix it if you weren’t admiring a view; waiting to share whatever was on your mind.

One by one he released his hair from his fingers. The ache of his scalp was enough to help focus him back into the present. To ground him just enough for when his eyes finally landed on your frame.

You weren’t standing at the edge of the stern, safely behind its railing like he imagined, or admiring the view of the midnight water. Instead, your legs were precariously over the side of the Merry. So painfully close to the edge that one wrong move, a simple shift in the wind or the way you were sitting, and you’d simply go over.

An image of you going over, a sudden flash of your body disappearing into the darkness below, sent his steps widening, eager to reach you. To close the remaining distance between you, as if it would ever be enough to keep you there.

His bare feet thundered loudly across the remaining feet that were left between the two of you. The heavy thumping scraped away whatever chance he had at catching you off guard. The sound alone should’ve been enough to draw your attention but when he arrived at the edge of the banister, one hand holding on to the ashen wood while the other curled around your shirt - his shirt. After all this, you still hadn’t acknowledged him.

Your eyes were locked on a horizon of midnight - obsidian, endless, with promises of nightmares etched out of brimstone lying underneath. Your head tilted, just like before, just like it always was, listening to something none of them could hear.

Zoro wasn’t much of a praying man, but he found himself silently making one as he sucked in a breath.

“It's a little late for a midnight stroll, don’t you think, Snowdrop?”

You weren’t surprised Zoro found you.

You knew he would. Since the minute you woke up in bed curled up beside him, an arm tucked behind his head while the other draped itself loosely over your shoulders, pressing you closer, that once you left he’d be up. Maybe not right away, but it will happen. Gradually or all at once.

Even in his sleep, Zoro searched for you. His fingers stroked the curve of an arm; swirling into the crease of an elbow. His nose buried itself in your hair or the sensitive spot just under your ear. Zoro searched for you as vigorously in his sleep as he did while he was awake.

You expected him to come find you. It wasn’t a surprise when the sound of padding feet on cured wood imploded the silence you’d come in search of finding. His presence was unforgiving heat across your skin. Unspoken questions hanging between you. A part of you prayed he would ask them. Another part of you hoped he didn’t.

Maybe that was the voice that made you wish he hadn’t found you. That Zoro had stayed blissfully asleep enjoying the blanket of restful sleep instead of the restlessness of whatever you now had to offer. The thought gnawed on your nerves, brewing an annoyance that soured the comfort you’d found looking into the vast darkness of the waves.

During the day, everything was bright and inviting. The sea most of all. Its multitude of hands that rolled against ships and overlapped wave after wave to create a white froth was a silent beacon to come explore. It promised relief from the scorching heat of the sun and an endless supply of food to fill a starving sailor. Underneath all of that brightness, however, you could feel the darkness that took shape in the form of monsters underneath. Sea beasts that swallowed entire ships with crews. Sirens seducing men and women from their beds with a song - pulling them screaming, lungs heavy with water, down into the deep.

It was this darkness that began to call to you. A disease that infiltrated your body slowly, without warning so as not to cause alarm, until it completely plagued every sleepless hour. You weren’t aware it’d been happening until the third night you’d woken to the spray of the ocean on your face. You found yourself standing on the rail of the ship. The threat of a harsh wave possibly sending you over was imminent. Yet there you stood, your arms splayed out at your sides, waiting for an embrace that hadn’t come. Yet, when you opened your eyes it wasn’t terror that turned to ice in your veins. You knew the ocean wouldn’t claim you.

It couldn’t.

You didn’t belong to this graveyard. You belonged to something else. There was a power that resonated below the murky depths. A force that felt ancient and terrifying. It felt like it created the dark; and devoured it until it became whole again and again. It writhed and moaned like the damned, as it searched for more life, more souls, to devour and own. This blackness demanded worship like an old god and that same darkness was what called to you now.

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to be: a sacrifice or a sacrificer. But one thing was clear. Whatever it was, it was inside of you and it was calling you home.

Naan strived to make sure she was careful - that you were careful. She shared warnings in the forms of stories and fairytales as a child to soften the terrifying meaning that lay underneath. All this time she painstakingly put in to make you understand and, in the flash of a second, it took less time for you to choose Nazifa’s life over your own.

It’s what Naan had taught you to do: protect others. How could she ever think, or believe, that you made the wrong choice? How could you regret saving someone’s life? Saving people was who you were, who Naan raised you to be, down to the very marrow of your bones.

Naan’s trade was never forced on you. She never held you back from thoughts of going to school, leaving the island, or if you wanted to learn a different trade. It was always very clear it was your choice to spend hours in the garden and in the forest scrounging for ingredients. Your choice in agonizing over the creation of your book of remedies. It felt natural. Your whole purpose is wrapped up in easing the pain of the dying and the chill of the sick.

But this darkness…it touched what was yours. It cascaded oil thick, blackening the seas of your memories. The shared dances in Naan’s kitchen as she taught you how to move across the floor, ‘like a young lady’. The spring in her gardens, surrounded by bergamot and cardamom.

Every last memory of joy and hope and happiness was suffocated until the only thing left were nightmares. This darkness – this sickness – writhed under your skin. It changed who you believed you were, who Naan loved and cared for you to be, and stripped it all away.

Brick by brick every belief you held was knocked loose and replaced by something grotesque; vile. It whispered ways to silently kill those you loved aboard the Merry. Townsfolk and villagers whenever you stopped for supplies. It slithered black chords of strength in your muscles, seizing your hands to tear apart and break dressers. The doorknob to Luffy’s room completely caved in as you struggled and fought to not take that final step inside.

The voices were growing louder with each denial you gave them. Each life you refused to take - each villager you saved instead of maimed - turned them rabid. The whispers grow into shrieks:

Belladonna to strip a man of pride and the air from his lungs - closing up his throat with froth and screams. Mosswood burns the mouth and twists the gut making them turn liquid.

‘We can break them. Grind their bones into dust. Lay it like powder on our skin. Let us make them putrid! Skin soft and pliable like pudding - flesh that caves at the touch. One touch from us, from you, OUR TOUCH, and we can rot them from the inside out. Listen as their tongue turns liquid and they gurgle liquid sweet! Let us rot them! LET. US. ROT. THEM!’

It whispered and screamed until you thought you would go mad. It took every ounce of willpower you struggled to hold on to your sanity. Not to claw at your ears. As if it would ever be enough to make the whispers just stop.

Something inside you came back wrong. You were wrong. You thought about the possibility that you might be imagining it. This call of chaos - of sinister dread - swirled inside of you like a whirlpool threatening to suck everything down around you. The more you tried to ignore it, the louder it grew. The voices were no longer murmuring - their words were convoluted - gargled as if held underwater.

Now they were screaming, demanding to be heard, and they were always the loudest when you were sleeping.

You were so lost, so completely lost, consumed with your thoughts, these fucking voices, that you weren’t sure when your body turned to face him. Maybe Zoro had asked you a question or been asking questions. The usual mask of careless indifference he wore was there, but it was easy to spot the worry that etched itself into the fine lines around his eyes.

His brow creased, drawn tight, which reflected the dark panic that was pooling to the surface in his eyes. If you didn’t answer him soon he was going to shake an answer out of you. Just to hear something.

What could you say?

“Do you hear them too? They’re whispering for me to do things and the more I ignore them, the more their fingers seem to dig holes in my mind.”

No.

You couldn’t ask him that. It sounded crazy. You would sound crazy, and maybe you were. This whole thing felt like a waking nightmare. You thought you could keep it at bay as you attempted to work through it. There had to be a scientific explanation for something like this or at least a psychological one.

Death came to claim you. You’d felt the clutch of cold hands eager to drag you away, drag you down into the earth kicking and screaming. It felt greedy. Excited.

But you came back.

Maybe this madness was a form of penance. Maybe this truly was what it was: madness.

You couldn’t look at him anymore as you tried to swallow the bitter truth down. Underneath, however, you knew you lived in a fantastical world where boys were made of rubber, Devil Fruits existed, and so did magic.

But what did that make you? You with your voices of chaos.

Death bringer, They whispered, clamoring against your skull.

What if the part of you…the dark part Naan always feared would consume you, festered like a cordycep eating its way through your soul until there was nothing left? What if it ate and ate until you were just…gone? The only thing left was an imposter who’d taken your place.

The thought was enough to make your mouth desert dry. Your heart clamoring against the ribs in your chest demanding for you to take it back! You weren’t being eaten starting from the soul and outwards. You were in control. Perfect control.

“I’m okay.” The words croaked around an unused throat forcing you to clear it and try again. “I’m okay.”

“Who are you trying to make believe that? You? Or me?”

When Zoro looked at you, like he did now, all the world grew quiet. The sound of the ocean, her waves, and the lapping at the hull of the ship all died away. It was harder to catch a breath, the air denser somehow, as everything came grinding to a halt.

The only thing that mattered in this moment, in every moment, now and always, was the way he looked at you. But the moment didn’t last - it couldn’t - when the current underneath your feet began to pound against the hull of the ship. A seismic rhythm that vibrated through your body in earth-shattering ferocity.

You looked out across the water around you and found her unchanged. Her waves thrashed at their own speed to collide against the Merry before they rested back down into the murky midnight of the water.

“Zoro, do you feel that?”

The need for confirmation that it wasn't just you who felt this primal call was palpable. You grasped at whatever reasoning made sense but there was none. A sharp sting on your fingertips brought a hiss of pain from your lips. Your eyes darted down to find that same inky blackness that had burned the flesh of the face of the fishman like acid was crawling up your arms. You tried to swat it away as a fresh flood of panic gripped you.

“Zoro!”

Your eyes flew up to look for him beside you. You wanted to reach for him - you needed him to hold onto you - but if you touched him would you hurt him? Would you kill him?

Fear and panic constricted your throat turning your next sentence into a delirious garble of words. All attempts at civility and calmness ended when your vision centered on his body next to yours. Zoro was covered in the thick black ink - your darkness. You heard the sizzling of muscle and tissue melting away. The wet sound of flesh hitting the deck. You watched as a piece of his cheek, the top of his eyelid, slid down his face as his hand reached out for you.

“It’s going to be okay, Snowdrop.”

The horror of what you were seeing grabbed a hold of your throat and worked the earlier sounds free. It knocked them back down to be digested to allow them to come back up at something brand new.

A scream housed from despair and grief tore through your body and released itself there on that deck. A panicked heart filled with regret left you shattering into a million pieces and it wasn’t until you were sitting up in bed, thrashing around in the sheets of your shared bed, that you realized it was all just a dream.

Your eyes bolted open but the frantic terror that left your heart thundering in your chest was still there. It made you search the room like crazy, grasping for things that were real.

Zoro was standing by your desk. His hands fastened the last button of his shirt while a cool set of eyes watched over you. It was then you felt how your body was coated in sweat; your hair clinging to your neck and cheeks. The shirt you’d worn to bed sticking in thick hot clumps against your skin.

“What happened,” you rasped.

Zoro finished with his shirt but didn’t make a move to answer. The Wado was secured at his hip and you watched him drop a now free hand onto the hilt. A comfort you could only assume he needed as he showed no immediate sign of replying.

After a long pause, Zoro let out a sigh as he moved towards the bedroom door.

“I found you sleepwalking on deck. Again,” he replied. His voice was all smoke and velvet. It should’ve brought you comfort hearing him, but it wasn’t hard to notice the cracks that formed around his words. “This is the eleventh time you’ve woken up screaming, Doc.”

“Zoro–“

“After we get supplies at our next stop I’m asking Luffy if we can turn around.”

He spoke to the door. The decision he was making seemingly cost him his own grief as your own. You threw the sheets back. Your legs scrambled to make it over the side of the bed before he could completely exit the room.

“Turn around for what?”

You wanted to sound tough, demanding even. Instead, you just sounded small. Scared. Your mouth dried up around every word, every sentence, you tried to formulate. The sick idea that he was trying to say goodbye, to let you go, making it damn near impossible to even breathe around a thought.

“To find someone willing to give me some answers.”

Zoro didn’t wait for you to reply with the usual weak promise of telling him. It was only when you were ready to share and that could be never. He was tired of waiting and didn’t bother to wait to hear an even weaker response before Zoro walked out the door and quietly shut it behind him.

As always, thank you all so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated.

Taglist: @honeyoru @oneandonlyizabelle @shanshan4143 @naomihatake @tombraiderjones2505 @illusory-segurity @hippieele @nadlx33333 @fancifulrealist @litlebruh @jonnelpunk

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harmonictechnicality · 2 years ago

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model!steve and voice actor!eddie

part 2 here | ao3 link here

Eddie chose a career in voice acting to avoid shit like this.

Forced socializing. Schmoozing with hotshot directors who are used to everyone kissing their ass until their lips bleed. And Eddie doesn’t do that shit.

… Okay yeah sure, Eddie kisses asses. But only in the literal, consensual kind of way. Usually after a few mediocre dinner dates, at least.

But this particular fuckhole of a director is insisting that Eddie attends the production shoot of the commercial that he’ll be narrating for. Which is weird - that’s not how this process typically goes. Eddie gets the script and records it in his studio. Easy peasy.

“I do things a little differently with my projects.” The director sneers into the phone’s speaker. Eddie silently gags at the oozing amounts of ego on this guy. “I want to immerse you into my vision.”

Ew. Eddie would rather immerse himself into a nap, but whatever. A job is a job.

“Understood.” Eddie agrees with minimal teeth-clenching. “I’ll be on set shortly.”

The phone clicks dead with nothing but a chuckle from the guy. No ‘goodbye,’ no ‘thank you.’ Rude… but that’s kind of an industry standard, so why did Eddie expect anything different?

He folds the script into his back pocket, throws on a shirt that screams ‘Los Angeles disaster gay,’ and makes his way to the studio lot.

Fucking yay.

Upon arrival, the director immediately escorts Eddie into the green room. Rambles on about needing him to meet the lead model for this commercial.

“Isn’t he just posing with the product?” Eddie lets his snarkiness run loose with that question, knows it right away.

Luckily, the guy is too busy snapping at a crew member to notice. “You’ll be voicing his character’s inner narrations.”

“Right.”

“And I want your tone to be seamless with the energy that he’s giving in this shoot. Got it?”

“Loud and clear.” Mostly loud.

The director swings open the door and reveals maybe the most cosmically beautiful person that Eddie has ever seen.

“Eddie, this is Steve.” The director says. “Steve, this is Eddie.”

Models are beautiful people, that’s the goddamn gig. Makeup, no makeup. Photoshop, no photoshop. They just look better than the general population and society accepts that as a fact.

But Eddie is a grubby little voice actor that burrows himself up in his boxy apartment for days. Very little sunlight, very little human interaction, and a shit ton of takeout.

Long story short, he doesn’t get out much. So this? Seeing a biblically hot heartthrob in the flesh? With his own two eyes? It’s knocking him into deep space. Sending him into an astral projection without sticking a tablet on his tongue first.

“Nice to meet you, man.” Steve holds out his hand while someone brushes more powder onto his shiny, glowy skin. God, that’s the best damn skin Eddie has ever seen. Powder be damned, Steve doesn’t need it’s chalky finish.

Eddie shakes himself out of this spell, takes Steve’s hand like he’s somehow worthy of touching him. “Yeah, you too.”

Lame. So lame. On a scale of one to Star Wars prequels, his response is the CGI in Attack of the Clones. ‘Yeah, you too?’ Ugh, what a dumbass.

The director tells them to get acquainted and to be on set in ten minutes. Ten minutes. Eddie has to be convincingly normal for ten whole minutes. Pfft, that’s laughable, but he’ll give it a shot.

“That guy’s a total asshat.” Steve grumbles.

Oh. Eddie could smother him in kisses for saying that. Lick Steve clean of all that stupid powder and probably die of talc poisoning. Death By Licking a Model is one hell of a way to go.

“Yeah.” Find some new words, Munson. “Major asshat. But he happens to be paying my bills this month, so technically, he’s my favorite major asshat.”

“Oh, same.” Steve laughs. It’s fucking glorious too. Eddie kind of wishes he had brought his microphone so that he could capture such a wonderful sound with high quality recording software. Is that creepy? Maybe he should dial it back.

... As if. This guy’s hair is sculpted with effortless perfection and his shoulder blades could slice through a French baguette. No way Eddie can dial it back or keep it together.

“So you’re doing the voice work on the commercial, right?” Steve asks.

‘Yup.” Eddie shoves both hands into his pockets. “Indeed I am.”

Okay, that was borderline Yoda. Get a grip.

Steve seems unfazed though. “That’s cool. Can’t wait to hear what you come up with.”

“Thanks.” Eddie smiles warmly. Nerves mellowing out. “And I can’t wait to see you in action out there.”

“Hope I can give you some good inspiration.” And Steve winks, legit winks at Eddie. Does it like it’s normal too, like he winks at everybody. He probably winks at nuns just to see if he can get them to consider conversion.

Eddie is so hopeless. Fucking tragic at this point.

They walk into the studio and are greeted by a somber, archaic set design. There’s a massive throne in the middle that is draped with fur.

It’s… tacky. That’s the nicest adjective Eddie has to describe it. Tacky bullshit.

“I thought this was for a cologne ad.” Eddie says, eyeing the snowy backdrop.

Steve nods. “It is.”

“So what’s with the secondhand Game of Thrones set?”

“Mr. Asshat thinks this is his cinematic debut.”

Eddie snorts. Loves that he already has inside jokes with this beautiful, beautiful creature. “Someone should tell Mr. Asshat that this is visual plagiarism.”

“Nah.” Steve runs his hand over the tacky fur piece. Smirks to himself as he speaks. “I say we let him suffer.”

Eddie’s legs wobble. “Damn, you’re hot.”

He sounds ridiculously uncool, so breathy and gone. But Steve shrugs in a non-pitying kind of way, so maybe Eddie's uncoolness is excused. Or expected.

While the camera and lighting crew finalize their positions, Steve takes off his robe, revealing his costume.

Torn, muddied pants. Ripped and clawed to shreds. A billowy white top that’s completely unbuttoned. Un-laced? Eddie’s not entirely sure about the mechanics - just knows that Steve’s chest is out, that’s all he can focus on.

There’s a dented crown that the stylist places next to the throne, right at Steve’s feet. It’s shimmery yet tarnished, catches the light in a kaleidoscope effect.

The product is called The Fallen King, so deductive reasoning tells Eddie that Steve is meant to be the physical embodiment of this scent. He recalls something in the script about his title being slandered by promiscuity and forbidden love. Apparently they’ve bottled up that smell into a cologne.

Do people really want to smell like a dethroned monarch? That’s a thing? Huh.

Just to make the sexual torture even more unbearable, Eddie gets to spectate alongside Mr. Asshat himself. Which also means that Eddie almost has a center view of Steve’s performance.

Cause that’s exactly what he’s giving. A performance. A full display production of his body, his face. His whole godlike essence.

It’s unfair how fucked Eddie is from watching Steve pose. He can hold the oddest positions without budging a single tendon. So still. Durable. Strong.

Every last thought in Eddie’s head is impure from that observation. He wants to wrap his fingers around Steve’s muscles until he finally moves, twitches. Eddie wants to watch as Steve’s pretty lips part, falling open with sighs. See how long it takes for those sighs to turn into moans.

Steve slumps back into the throne, legs spread obscenely far apart. His gaze droops low and dark, practically eye-fucking the camera. It’s crazy how jealous Eddie is of that stupid inanimate object. The things he would do to get eye-fucked by that golden sex god up there…

His internal porno gets interrupted by a new pose. A wicked one. Steve is on his knees now, looking up into the camera lens. He sinks into the dreamiest expression. Looks dazed, all spaced-out and helpless. Eddie kneads at the growing heat in his pants with the heel of his palm. Hopes it’s not fucking obvious that he’s so horned up right now.

The director clears his throat and yells over the camera’s constant shuttering. “Can you tilt your head back, Steve?”

And Steve does. So obedient, so exceptional at his job. His head rolls back on his neck, shoulders sagging with the shift of weight.

Eddie is chewing the inside of his cheek, nearly ready to take the horny loss and go jack off in his car. Steve is in the most ideal position now, totally vulnerable. Eddie could fuck him so good like that, let Steve melt into his touch. He’d treat him like treasure, spoil him with dick and praise. Eddie would catch him if his legs give out. Would lick Steve’s kiss-bitten lips until the swelling goes down.

God, Eddie is so sick in the head for conjuring up x-rated scenes like this. In public, surrounded by strangers. Literally on the clock. He seriously needs to get his head checked for having such a whorish imagination.

The shoot ends shortly after that last pose, the one that rocked Eddie’s world. He closes his eyes for a minute, takes a few deep breaths. Tries to inhale some goddamn decency.

“How was it?” Steve heads his way, snaking his arms back into the bathrobe.

Eddie blinks hard. “It was… you were…” And the words stop. Nothing else comes out, his throat is strangled and bare.

Steve gives a soft laugh, nudges Eddie’s arm with his elbow. “Guess you do better when there’s a script in front of you, huh?”

Oh. So he’s pretty and darkly playful? This is too good, too delicious.

Eddie wets his bottom lip, recovers quickly. “I do better when there’s not an earthbound angel in my presence.”

“Wow.” Steve raises both eyebrows. “That’s quite the compliment.”

“Oh come on - you must get compliments all the time.”

“Not like that one though.”

“No?”

Steve takes a step into Eddie’s space. “Definitely not.”

They just stare after that - mostly because it’s Eddie’s turn to speak but words are so secondary when there’s this much beauty to behold. Gazing becomes his top priority.

And before the conversation can lead to an exchange of last names or phone numbers, Steve is rushed off by his agent. Maybe his publicist. Maybe his mom, Eddie has no fucking clue. Just someone taking away his shiny new toy. He sort of feels like reenacting that scene in Cast Away when the volleyball drifts into the ocean. Be dramatic as all hell about this ending.

Eddie doesn’t actually jack off in his car, although he really wants to. No, he decides to use all of his adrenaline and pent-up hormones for the voice recording. It gives his vocals this strained, chesty sound. Sinful and corrupt. Cracking with emotion in certain spots, spiking the volume in all the right ways.

It might be too much, a little bit too suggestive for a lousy cologne advertisement.

But as he listens back, Eddie can’t help but picture Steve. Imagining snapshots of him from every angle, especially the unspeakable ones. The recording barely sounds like a script anymore. It almost sounds like Eddie whispering the lines directly into Steve’s ear. A dirty secret between them.

This is it, he thinks. Sends the audio file to his sound mixer without a second read-through, without a retake. This might be the best voiceover Eddie Munson has ever done.

#steddie #steddie fic #this is inspired by the unhinged ao3 tag generator #so there will be two more parts - fairly short like this one #not sure if I should put this on ao3... we shall see #anyways thanks for listening xx

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warping-realities · 2 months ago

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Animal I Have Become

Alright, I promised I wouldn’t write any more. But this one’s short and I cranked it out in less than two hours. The inspiration is obvious for anyone who’s a fan of "Karate Kid"/"Cobra Kai," since I just finished the first part of the last season. And for those worried about my studies, don’t sweat it—I was on my work shift, which I never use to study because it seems to attract all kinds of chaos. Anyway! If any quick ideas pop up, I’ll post them, but no more long stories packed with plots for a while.

I only agreed to go back to the place of my humiliation for one reason: Mikey was my best friend throughout high school until he decided, right in our senior year, to join the karate team of the new P.E. assistant teacher. Then, like magic, the skinny kid with a sharp sense of humor who could discuss everything from experimental physics to pre-Columbian American history, the guy I knew so well, was replaced by this arrogant musclehead who struggled with math and was totally incapable of having a history discussion that didn’t revolve around bragging about how today badass America was, and whose idea of a joke involved talking about tits or letting out a stinky fart. Apparently, it was a courtesy of the insane amounts of protein he started chugging to maintain his suddenly beefed-up physique. How the hell was it possible to gain that much muscle in such a short time? Maybe steroids, but the one time I asked about that, I ended up stuck under his stinky armpit. And what was up with that new nickname? “Snake!” How pretentious was that? But apparently, everyone in the group had a “badass nickname.” Ah, the joys of the standard American jock… Still, I tried to hold on to some of our friendship; God, did I try.

I even agreed to join a couple of those damn team practices, knowing damn well I didn’t have the physique, the skills, and maybe most importantly, the real desire to be there. I ended up getting ridiculed by everyone, including my so-called best friend.

I should’ve never talked to him again after that week of “practices.” But, being the idiot I am, all it took was a poorly worded apology full of grammatical mistakes that my brain refuses to recreate:

“Sorry, bro, the sensei got pissed at the guys when he heard their jokes about the size of your… well, you know. He wants you to meet us in the locker room today so we can apologize the right way. If you don’t show up, he’s gonna make us skip training for the whole week. Come on, please, for our friendship!”

… and there I was in that locker room. I should’ve left those morons without practice, but I decided to be the good samaritan.

Walking into that crap hole, what a surprise! It was empty. The pungent stench of sweat filled the room and humidity on the walls made it feel like the locker room was actually a beast whose musk drips off its body after a vigorous workout. But that didn’t matter; apparently, either the coach didn’t give a damn about what happened, which I should’ve figured, since he was just an older version of the ogre crew he trained, or he didn’t even know what went down, and I was about to be the victim of another lame prank.

Thinking about the danger, I quickly turned to leave. Then I noticed… on the other side of the room, hanging on one of the lockers… had that been there before? A piece of red fabric… oh, of course. A red gi from the team; they even gave themselves a pretentious name…. The fight practice was happening right at that moment. It was hard to think about it. I said so much crap about the team on TikTok and Instagram, tarnishing the reputation of the strong and disciplined image they worked so hard to create outside those walls that they probably hated my guts now. All those arrogant alpha dogs were arrogant and obnoxious. What the hell was I thinking trying to fit in? Nerdy little dudes like me didn’t really belong there. Even the jokes about my dick; if I were one of them, I’d just throw a punch or come back with some barbaric, macho comeback and everything would be cool. But I wasn’t like that, and my frustration with all of it was proof of that.

I never really liked the Gi. That red color always seemed way too aggressive, and for some reason, it always looked oversized on me, with sleeves and pants that were way too long and baggy. I had to wrap the belt around me twice just to keep it from falling off my skinny frame. Apparently, it never crossed the sensei’s mind that a little guy like me would have the audacity to try to join his team. Thinking about it, it wasn’t that I didn’t like the Gi; I hated it. It represented everything I despised about that bunch of trolls and also my lost friendship.

I stepped back and slowly turned my head back to the locker with the gi. Did it belong to someone? normally they were used by any of the team's bodies, one size fits all, or almost, when I was still there... anyway... after training they went straight to the laundry before returning for the next training session. Not that any washing would really get rid of the complete animalistic musk that infested their fabric. So why would someone leave it here?

Not my fucking problem. Probably just a spare or something. I think, walking resolutely toward the door, and I crack it open slightly. I turn back. I guess there’s no one using it. That means someone’s gonna grab it soon. Something’s bugging me. But what is it? I get closer, the musk intensifying. That gi definitely isn’t new and hasn’t been washed recently. And what’s this? There’s a note along with it. I sit on the nearby bench to read.

“Sorry, bro, today’s practice was super important, and the sensei didn’t want to wait for you. But he left your gi here. Put it on and come train; this time it’ll be different, I promise. Trust me, for old times’ sake.”

Old times? Maybe… maybe I should give it a shot. God, what a weird thought. Why would I want to do that? But while I’m thinking about it, my feet are already moving me to stand up and head toward the locker, while my hands are grabbing my shirt and pulling it up. I should stop. I need to stop. I should leave now, but the shirt comes off and goes over my head, landing on the floor. My pants are unbuttoned, and soon they join the shirt. I really should stop. Why do I want this? It’d be better to stop, but soon I’m in my boxers holding the gi in front of me. First, I put one leg in... then the other... then the arms, and then the belt… why is it black? I wonder, confused… but then that consuming need fades away.

I look at myself. As always, it doesn’t fit. I look like a kid wearing his dad’s suit at some event. I sit back down on the bench. Alright, that strange urgency is satisfied. So now I can just take this damn thing off!

But I don’t want to, for some strange reason. I feel more comfortable than ever. It’s like that mismatched uniform was made for me. My delicate hands wander over the ill-fitting outfit, the long sleeves sliding down my shoulders. I try to adjust them back into place, but they stop midway as I start to feel the material against my skin. The feeling of power it gives me… the feeling of strength… was it really this good when I was practicing? No, definitely not; if it was, I wouldn’t have quit. Man, this feels amazing... I feel the weight of the gi on me, both real and metaphorical… the weight of what it represents… my hands roam over its wide shape… it’s not just a uniform… it’s an armor… a sacred cloak… this is so cool… I can hear them in the training room… too bad I can’t join them... I wish I could... and they asked... didn’t they? I shift a bit on the bench and let my arms fall to my sides. Weird, I didn’t seem that far from the ground before. I feel cozy; the sweat smell doesn’t bother me, the whole atmosphere feels familiar, even comforting, like coming home after a long day and sitting in your favorite chair. I feel dizzy, like I’m about to fall asleep...

My rational mind, or what’s left of it, doesn’t notice. But unconsciously, I do… my muscles are slowly expanding, my skinny body pushing against the bench while my hands gently massage my slightly protruding belly that’s slowly flattening, the little bit of fat there seeming to be sucked in with every circle my hand makes. My shoulders are also widening, getting broader, as I grunt happily, a tingling sensation creeping up my body.

Feeling that, my eyes suddenly open, a jolt waking me up a bit from that stupor. What the hell was that? I look at my belly, and it’s widening as I’m hit with shock. I’m getting ripped! My hands trace the outline of my abs as the little muscle blocks there grow and harden, turning into six distinct shapes. As I stare at that in fascination, the stupor hits me harder.

The rigid stones of my abs aren’t the only things getting harder. My arms and legs are swelling with new muscle, keeping pace with my ever-growing body. And, well... I gently pat my groin. It’s definitely there too… a solid extra four inches, and still soft… As my body keeps expanding, the sensation turns pleasurable, like scratching an itch that’s been bugging you for ages, so I let it wash over me. My mouth opens in a gasp, drool spilling out as I pant like a dog. For some reason, it’s easier to breathe like this. Maybe because my nose is breaking and reforming a few times without me even noticing? As the drool runs down my pecs, I bring my hand to them and feel them grow, making my hands look tiny in comparison to the two meat packages they become. I shake my hand a bit, sending the drool flying, and with each shake, I see it grow too, turning into a massive paw, perfect for smashing some unsuspecting fool. Looking at that seems… really good… and I laugh. And out of nowhere, the other hand starts growing too, while my feet expand like crazy. My size eight shoes will never fit those paws; what size are they now? 14? Or maybe 15? A good kick with those surfboards and you’re down for the count… cool… hehehe...

No, not cool, not cool at all! This damn outfit is doing something to me! I stand up and grab the gi by the sleeves at my shoulders, ready to rip it off, and then…. I fall back onto the bench, my eyes unfocused again as a sudden wave of pleasure hits me like a tsunami. Yeah, a torrent of testosterone floods my body as my jawline becomes prominent, my chin broadens, and little tufts of freshly trimmed hair cover my chest and armpits. My mouth opens again, drool spilling out as my neck thickens, and my Adam’s apple sticks out, while my forehead becomes more pronounced, with low brows creating a scowl that makes it look like I’m always ready to fight, and my hair gets shaved on the sides, completing the look of a total douchebag. I try to care, I try to fight... fight... good… fights is good... no… not fight like this... I start to lift my arm, now powerful and making the gi look slightly tight… my biceps must be huge… hehhe… then it drops again… I look at my altered reflection in the mirror and see someone who could easily roll with Samue… Snake and the other guys… who knows, maybe now it’ll end… maybe I’ll finally break free from this stupor and get out of here… But then the real nightmare begins, as a web of powerful veins snakes through the swollen muscles of my body, a myriad of intrusive thoughts starts to slowly shape my mind, no matter how hard I try to resist. They break through my defenses with such force that my illusions shatter quickly as I start to forget. Memories of long hours of studying slowly morph into party after party with my friends, working out with them, training with them, watching my body swell and grow; time spent on pop culture becomes time spent watching football, hours and hours perfecting my college resume turns into hours and hours of sweat and sacrifice perfecting my fighting technique to the point of perfection. Just like my friends. Just like the sensei taught us to be. And we owe it all to sensei. Especially since he’s gonna figure out a way to get me into college, get all of us, in every corner of the country, ensuring that his teachings are passed on. Just one of us in any student group or, better yet, a fraternity, and boom, a new crew of brothers ready to spread the word… ha… word… funny… as if we needed to talk… no… our way is the way of the fist!

Shit, I can’t believe I slept through practice! Sensei is gonna rip me a new one! I shouldn’t have hooked up with those hot girls from college with Snake last night… dude, I couldn’t miss that hookup… I’ll just have to take the sensei’s punishment like a man… and I AM THE MAN!”

I stand up and groan, my voice deeper, with a bit of a growl. I turn toward the door, bracing for sensei’s yelling… Eh, screw him. He’ll put on his show about my tardiness, and I’ll play my part as the remorseful kid, and everything will be fine. It’s not like I skipped out or, God forbid, quit the team; I can’t even imagine the things he’d do to a damn deserter. I stretch a bit, admire myself in the mirror… Mad Dawg, you’re so swole… damn… you big, hot son of a bitch!

And then I finally walk toward the training room to join my brother’s in arms. Today’s practice is gonna be awesome; I can feel it, but honestly, it always is; I was born for this.

#male tf #mind change #reality change #jockification #mental transformation #corruption #musclegrowth

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batsplat · 13 days ago

Note

Wait what’s the tea on Valentino’s sleep patterns 👀👀 (fellow insomniac / recent motogp fan always looking for more representation)

oh yeah, if you're looking for representation for poor sleeping habits you've very much come to the right place. his sleep patterns are pretty remarkable you have to say. way too nocturnal for a professional athlete, reliant on naps to get through the race weekend, all power to him for somehow making that work and winning all those titles. pretty sure I've read somewhere that he's still known for doing sim races at ungodly hours these days, just how he lives his life

tbh I can't remember off the top of my head where I'd actually read about his sleeping patterns, but I've cobbled together a decent selection of quotes from the usual sources. the most interesting stuff he's said on the topic is in his autobiography - where he goes into rather a lot of detail about his preference for the night. given that it's quite a lengthy passage, I've chucked it under the cut. he frames his nocturnal inclination as not only suiting his natural body clock better, but also as a way of escaping the rest of the world - of being able to move around in peace and silence and anonymity. plus, he liked to spend his nights in the garage to... *pinches bridge of nose* have some special personal time with his bike, when it was just the two of them. take that as you will

before that, let's just start with a few more general descriptions of his sleeping patterns. from early in his career, jerez 1998 (from oxley's vr files):

The camper only holds two people, but that's okay. I don't like my dad to sleep with me, because when it gets to ten o'clock he starts saying: "Vale, Vale, got to bed!", but I can't go to sleep before one or two. We did share a motorhome in '96 and it made life very, very difficult for me.

and about brno 1999 (from oxley's vr files):

On weekends when I'm not racing, I never go to bed before six or seven on Sunday morning. If it's a party, maybe even later, but going to bed at six in the morning is quite normal for me! Even when I was 14 I used to go to bed at 4am. Quite often I'd be riding around the local minimoto tracks until after midnight! If I go to sleep at 11 or 12 I just lie there, my eyes wide open. Maybe I would be good for 24-hour racing!

and then a few years into his premier class career, valentino says the following (x):

'I have a lot of energy after 2am,' Rossi agreed. 'I like to sleep in the morning. I have some problems at the start of the day.'

we've also got a description of crew chief jb's influence in terms of making sure valentino wasn't slacking off by sleeping in (from oxley's vr files):

Burgess' talents aren't restricted to getting the best out of a 500. The Aussie has been in GPs for decades and knows how to extract the best from riders as well. He expects 100 per cent commitment both on the track and in the pits, and when he doesn't get that, he gives 'em hell. Some other crew chiefs won't do that - they're too overawed by their riders' superstardom. JB laid down the law last summer when late-sleeper Rossi turned up late for practice. Rossi suggested that in future one of the crew should be despatched to his motorhome each morning to make sure he was out of bed. No way, said Burgess, I'll be there to give you your wake-up call. Rossi's not overslept since.

and from 2001, in valentino's own words:

Q: Tell us about your sleeping habits, JB has had to wake you a few times for practice... VR: I never go to bed before 1 o'clock, and there's no limit on when I go to bed, but even when I go to sleep very late I always wake up at 8.30, though when I do wake up I always have a big confusion for the first five minutes, then after that I remember: "Oh fuck, I'm at world grand prix!" So I have a shower and then I'm okay. I never get up too close to riding time because the 500 is a dangerous bike so it's necessary to be awake when you climb aboard. Back in the afternoon after practice at four or five o'clock I'll sleep for another hour.

only semi-related but valentino's also talked about... you know, this generational shift - where the sport has become more professionalised, which is reflected in certain lifestyle changes (from barker's rossi biography):

"The next generation is always stronger. They are more professional, they put more effort in, they make a perfect life, they eat in a good way, they don't drink, they go to sleep early, they train every day from the morning to the night... I come from an era where the riders drank beer and smoked cigarettes!"

also plenty of talk of jet lag obviously... doesn't struggle with it too much headed westwards because he says he basically lives on american time anyway. the other direction is tougher, but in his youth he decided that he might as well try to continue living on italian time. so he essentially went racing at 5 in the morning (about phillip island 1998, from oxley's vr files):

I don't have a problem with jet lag, I always sleep. Last year in Indonesia I stayed on Italian time for the whole grand prix - so I was racing at five in the morning! But the difference is too great to do that in Australia.

how on earth are you racing motorcycles like that. mind you, he won that 1997 indonesia race

so yeah. king of disordered sleeping. given the nature of motogp schedules and how they do kind of require you to actually get up in the mornings, congrats to him for being remotely functional during race weekends. crazy how he even won the odd race

and here's the autobiography passage:

My day, usually, begins in the afternoon. It’s as if I exist inside my own personal time zone. I live at night, because I love the night. Now, this might make you think I do goodness-knows-what in the wee hours, or that I don’t live the life of a professional athlete. It’s true, I don’t live the life of an athlete in the traditional sense — early to bed, early to rise and all that — but this does not mean that I’m not careful about what I eat and drink or that I don’t train. In fact, I train a lot, both in the gym and on the bike. It’s just that I go to the gym in the afternoon, rather than the morning. Equally, when I’m training on the bike, down at the quarry, I always go in the afternoon, never at nine o'clock in the morning. My body has a certain type of metabolism. It is used to living according to a different body clock. That’s why, even if I’m travelling all over the world, I don’t experience jet lag and I rarely go to bed before 3 a.m. It’s much more likely that I’m just tucking into bed as people are leaving for work. As I say, I have a special relationship with the night. I like moving in it, living in it, thinking in it, relaxing in it. The night fascinates me, because it’s the period of least confusion. The world calms down, it goes quiet. And, besides, I’m Valentino Rossi. I’m wanted... I'm a fugitive. Yes, I’m always running away from my _ beloved countrymen. The Italians. I’m proud to be Italian, I'm proud of our merits and I regret our shortcomings. Italians are exceptional people. In every way. Even when they start loving you. Because that’s actually when problems can arise — if it’s you that the Italian falls in love with. Italian people are warm, empathetic, spontaneous. But they can also be excessive, oppressive and disrespectful. I don’t know who said that Italians will forgive everything except for success. Whoever it was, they were right. Because it’s absolutely true. After the 1997 season, I could tell I was becoming popular. Year after year, that popularity turned into fully fledged love. They’re in love with me now and, as a result, since the 2004 season, I’ve been a man on the run. And there’s no escape, no end in sight, because wherever I go they find me. There are simple things, the little pleasures in life, which I simply can’t engage in when I’m back in Italy. I can’t go to the bar and have a cappuccino, because I would not be able to drink it. To be fair, I can do it in Tavullia, but that's the only place. If I go more than a few kilometres in any direction from the centre of town, that's it, everything changes and I become, once again, a hunted man. I can’t walk into a store, look at something and decide what I want to buy. In fact, I can’t stop anywhere, not even at a petrol station. If I stop, I’m screwed. Somebody will recognise me (Italians are exceptionally good at recognising people), make a lot of noise, call other people and then, before I know it, I’ve been swallowed up by the crowd. If I schedule a meeting with someone, we have to meet in a secret, out-of-the-way location and, even then, we can't linger. I can't go to a restaurant if there are too many people inside. And if I do go, I can't go at a normal time, say eight o'clock. I have to go later, much later, when people are leaving. And I can't sit where I like, I have to hide away in a corner, in the shadows. As for places like cinemas or the beach, forget about it. They are just always off-limits.

Having said that, I do mix with people. I do it because I like doing it. It’s just that I wish I could do it as a normal person, because, deep down, I am a normal human being. This is part of the reason why I have to live at night. It would be that much tougher during the day, with all those people about. Plus, I don’t like the traffic, the chaos, the noise, all those people running all over the place, stressed out and out of breath. The night is different. Everything is softer, there are fewer people around and you are much more free. It’s like a parallel dimension. The world is different at night. Everything is different. That’s why I’ve assimilated the lyrics of a song by the Italian artist Jovanotti, “Gente. della notte” (“People of the night”). It has become my personal anthem. Jovanotti is one of my favourite singers and I find myself agreeing with him on most things. I love his work. What else can I say? The night is my reality. And I don’t change just because Grands Prix are scheduled during the day. My way of being and living is reflected in what I do during races. I don’t really change. Obviously, I don’t go to bed at dawn, but let’s just say that when I do, finally, go to bed, there aren’t many people around. Everything is better at night in the paddock. There is silence, the people _ have disappeared and, with them, the chaos. I can wander around freely, most of all I can enjoy the empty pit area and my bike. Yes, my bike. Because at night I often slip into the team garage. At some races I do it every single night, because I love being with my bike. My night-time activities can be traced back to the years racing in 125cc, and are directly tied to my passion for aesthetics and the stickers, which would later become my obsession. I don’t leave anything to chance'when it comes to choosing the colour or the stickers for my bike. That’s why I’ve always been central to any and all discussions when we were deciding the aesthetics of my racing bikes. I’ve done it always, with every bike, at every level, with every team. And, naturally, I still do it today. Nobody has ever been allowed to attach a single sticker to my bike, unless it was the logo of a technical sponsor. Until a few years ago I was totally inflexible about this. Now, Roby takes care of the number: he attaches it because then he needs to cover it in transparent paint. But apart - from -this, which is primarily a technical procedure anyway, I take care of everything else to do with the stickers. And this takes time and planning, which is why I started going to the garage at night. During the day it is packed with people. There are mechanics, technicians and others around. I would just get in the way, if I wanted to get near the bike just to check the stickers. As I got older and progressed from 125 to 250 and then to 500 and on to MotoGP, I maintained that passion for aesthetics and stickers, as well as the habit of dropping in on the team garage at night. I enjoy the bike during the day _ obviously, but my relationship with the bike is so special that I can spend hours with it, just looking and admiring it, making sure that everything is in order. Those are very personal moments which I find difficult to describe. The Japanese guys, both the executives but also the engineers never knew this, not the guys at Honda, not the ones at Yamaha. I don’t think they would really understand. They would probably view it as a waste of time, since I don’t actually do anything concrete. I never touch anything to do with the bike itself, beyond, obviously, the stickers. And yet I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. It’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy.

During the day everything happens so quickly, frenetically, neurotically. However, there is a sacrosanct moment when I need to step away and isolate myself. Once my commitment to the team is over, usually around 5.30 p.m., I retire to my motorhome, relax and take a nap. It usually lasts a couple hours and then I go out. There’s always something to do after dinner. Of course, the range of options depends on how many friends are around. I really start enjoying the paddock around ten o'clock at night. Before going to sleep I check on the bike again and then I go into the team motorhome, which serves as an office. Now that I’m at Yamaha, I have an office all to myself. That’s where I keep all my race gear. I do this for two reasons. My own personal motorhome is an absolute mess, nothing more fits in there and I probably couldn’t find anything amid all the junk. Plus, the office is where I change into my racing suit before going out on to the track. Thus, at night, after going to the pits to see the bike, I go to make sure that all my stuff is where it should be: gloves, suit, socks, boots . . . everything needs to be perfect, because I just don’t have time in the morning to hunt around for stuff. Thus, each morning I have to follow a very precise routine. I’m like a robot, everything is the same each day. Because the truth is that I need to be like clockwork. I just don’t have the time to think. Somebody generally comes to wake me up — usually it’s Jeremy, because he doesn’t trust my ability to wake up on my own! I then get up, wash my face (my eyes are still shut at this point) and try to stay awake as I ride the scooter from the motorhome to the pits. I then go up to the office and get dressed. There too everything is done mechanically. It takes the slightest hiccup to throw everything off, forcing me to be late to the testing.

"I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. it’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy" well -

#some of you lot really should be making more use of -#- the line 'because that's actually when problems can arise - if it's you that the italian falls in love with'#//#brr brr #clown tag #batsplat responds #i can also remember a post-retirement interview where he was up early to watch the motogp race and was suffering? can't find it though #im on the other side of the generational shift on this... the idea of approaching professional sport like that makes me twitchy #like so much of it these days is controlling every controllable variable perfect optimisation and all that. this feels so casual!!#and is honestly one of the things that makes his longevity the most impressive. one hell of a change to have to make mid career

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haerenven · 3 months ago

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♯┆SOFT SPOT .ᐟ ★ - roronoa zoro

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ────── ⋆ .⺌ ⟡ ⊂ ✦ ⊃ ⟡ ⺌.⋆ ────── ⊹ ࣪ ˖

— you are the only person who can be trusted by Zoro when it comes to his swords, we all know how much he is so possessive and clingy and careful about his swords, but you were absolutely different

— he barely can handle anyone try to touch his swords, but her ?.. absolutely fine, you also sometimes clean his swords and blades until they get Completely clean

— “Zoro, I’ll borrow your swords” she said confidently before stand up and pulled His precious sword Wado Ichimonji and he actually didn’t mind at all ! , he was leaning his head on his arms that placed behind his head and muttered “don’t step over me”, she pulled the sword and looked at the little boy “let’s see what you’ve got” she said with deep tone, meanwhile Zoro lean forward the table, watching and absolutely enjoying the whole scene with proud smirk, and the little boy was He was trembling with fear.

— girls? NAH, her? HELL YEAH !!

— when you with both of Nami and robin go to shopping on new island you guys stopped in, Nami was showing her new clothes to the rest of the crew (with both of Sanji and brook compliment), Zoro was lay on floor on his side and didn’t look.., the robin came and show her new clothes, and still Zoro didn’t care..

— but when you came and show your new clothes, Zoro turned his head to look at you while still laying

— he usually like wasting his free time on training or naps, but if you were free and saw you needing company, all pleasure…

— he usually don’t understand any of things you actually interest in, but he don’t mind listening and when he hear weird things he be like “what the hell is that ?” He looked confused raised an eyebrow and rubbed the back of his neck, but keep listening to anything you say

— and that it the next point !

— Zoro don’t listen to anyone orders only luffy…and you, even he can not even say or admit it, but yeah that true

— “I’ll go to look, too” Zoro said huffed, Sanji stopped him “wait, moss-head !” , Zoro rolled his eyes before placed on Sanji “what?, gotta go to find an old man whose head is cut off, right?”, “you?!, go looking for someone??” Sanji said annoyed , Zoro start getting annoyed “shut up and let me go you shitty cook” , “then who gonna look for you?” Sanji said hating that idea, Zoro thinks before saying “well…” , “he is right, Zoro !! Stay here” chopper said worried and freaking, “you too ?”

— she sighed and said with soft small sweet smile “just wait for us here” she said softly, then Zoro said “alright then…”

— in any sudden fight or any uncomfortable situation, Zoro had this kinda thing it might be habit, that he make sure he step forward A front of you and make sure you behind him to protect you from any sudden attack, (even when everyone knows you are one of the strongest crew members and definitely you can hold yourself)

— when both of you be chosen to go and shopping for the rest as task, when you keep your eyes on any random stuff, specially when it’s something clearly you really like it, he will wait for you to be busy with anything else and then he pick up the same thing you were looking at seconds ago

— when you comeback to the ship he came to your cabin, “hey? I saw that earlier and I thought you might like it”, she gasped softly and smiled joyfully “woah !, thank you zo”

— when one time you both had an random conversation, “I can be anything for you, just tell me what do you want me to be”, she chuckled and shook her head “you’re dumb” she said joking, he had a small “I can be that” (the notebook movie)

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ────── ⋆ .⺌ ⟡ ⊂ ✦ ⊃ ⟡ ⺌.⋆ ────── ⊹ ࣪ ˖

#roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #one piece x reader #zoro x you #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #opla zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #op x reader #op x you #op x y/n

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tootiecakes234 · 11 months ago

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Sanji x reader

(You come back from a mission injured. )

You come back to Sanji after you two were on two separate assignments. Initially you’re facing away from him so he’s just relieved that you’re safe. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your front.

“My beautiful one and only. I’m so happy to see you safe.” Words mumbled because His face is nuzzled up into your neck and he’s breathing in the scent of you. Even though you’re sweaty and gross, you’re his favorite scent in the entire world and that includes his cooking.

“Are you tired?? When we get back to the ship I’ll run you a nice bath yea??” Mind you he says all this in almost a sing song voice.

Normally you would be just as excited as he was, but you know. You know the time he sees your injury he’s going to 1000% flip his shit and you were trying to postpone the inevitable as long as possible.

When Sanji finally looked up he saw the strange looks the rest of the crew was giving and he was confused.

“What the hell are you idiots looking at? Why do you assholes look guilty?”

“Hey you guys can I have a moment alone with Sanji please?”

They all excused themselves and set off very swiftly because they knew the shit storm was a brewing.

He starts pulling his arms from around you but you quickly grab them and hold him still.

“Babe, can you promise me something??”, you whisper in the most even tone you can manage.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you. You know that.” And his arms tighten around you.

“Ok, remember. You’re a man of your word. Promise me you won’t freak out” You start to slowly pull away.

“Why would I-“

“Just promise me ok?”

“I promise me sweet.” And he chuckles a little at how weird you’re being.

The twirl you do around is so achingly slow but Sanji is nothing if not patient with you.

When you finally catch his eye, you see the smile morph on his face.

He is livid. infuriated. No there has to be a word that means “ready to burn down the fucking world and everyone and everything in it!”

“Who! Had! The Goddamn Nerve! To Touch you?!?”

“Saaannjii, baby. It’s fine. I promise you. It’s just a scratch. Chopper checked it out and he said it wouldn’t even need stitches.” Trying to keep the peace was not working. AT ALL.

“Who!? And where are they now?” He was seething.

You could feel hellfire coming off him.

The laceration was a long one coming up from your clavicle and wrapping up right under your chin, but it wasn’t deep. You had managed to dodge most of it.

“Theyre dead and gone. He only got the one chance. I promise, I’m ok. Everyone is ok and safe. So can you breathe?? Cuz I don’t think you’re breathing…”

“Where the hell was everyone when you were nearly KILLED?!”

“Trying to avoid dying themselves. I’m not some damsel in distress, even though I know that’s how you see me.” You had started to get a little testy but you had to remind yourself, he honestly just loved you way too much to be faced with a situation where you could’ve been taken from him.

You slowly get a little closer to him and reach out to grasp his hand, and honestly that touch did more for him than any of your words did.

His shoulders sagged just the slightest amount and you heard him draw in a sharp breath.

“I know you’re upset, you have every right to be, but I’m right here.” You said with all the love you could muster and lifted your other hand to wrap around the back of his neck and scratch at the back of his head.

Another breath and now his eyes were starting to soften.

You smile up at him and that sets his heart back to thumping at the inconsistent speed it always does when you look at him like that.

Next thing you know you’re being pulled into his arms and squeezed to the point where it’s almost taking your breath away.

You don’t realize he’s crying until you feel dampness from where he’s again tucked his head down into your neck.

His words come out all mumbled, “I can’t l-lose you. I truly fucking can’t… you- you’re the only reason my heart beats. The only thing that gives me the strength to draw another breath. I love you. I love you.”

And now you’re crying because damn. This man is everything to you, and the fact that he never fails to make sure you know how he feels the same way if not stronger…. Your heart is just so full.

“I love you too Sanji. And I’m never leaving… you’re stuck with me forever and ever and ever.”

When he pulls back his eyes are all red and puffy.

“You mean it?” His voice sounds all groggy now, like he just woke up. But also bright, like morning sunshine.

“Of course I mean it. You and me always.” You give him a small genuine smile.

“Then marry me…”

#imagine #sanji headcanons #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #one piece x reader #one peice #one piece fluff #one piece thoughts #one piece live action #black leg sanji #sanji #op x reader #op x y/n #sanji x you #op sanji

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redvexillum · 23 days ago

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@crackrodent I really am using your requests as tribute for my Kinktober/Flufftober, lol. This is my very first Adam ask and I'm sorry, I can't kill Adam! You know how much I love Adam! That's it *rolls up sleeves* imma show you what happens when you mess with the d1ckm@ster! Rawr! 😈

Special thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for being my muse for this story. Bless you. I had way too much fucking fun writing this. 💖

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, reader is fox demon for plot, sinner!adam, d☆ggy style, reader has a potty mouth, adam is the dickmaster, an☆l play, sp☆nking, hair pulling, multiple ☆rgasm (f!receiving), sq☆irting, rough s☆x, bl☆w job, big d☆ck adam, dom/sub undertone, so much f☆cking banter istg please shut up, adam being adam, adam figuratively sucking his own dick, toxic masculinity just oozes out of adam but the sex is hot af tho, adam is kind of a loveable idiot (?), I really went overboard here...sry kit (but not rly ayyy 🤣), CRUFTTY (crack + fluff + smut)

Building a sandwich was fucking art.

The bread had to be perfect – moist and soft, but not so soft that it turned into a soggy mess under the weight of the toppings. It needed strength to hold everything together, to create a flawless bite.

Every ingredient was handpicked by yours truly, each one deserving its place. The crispness of the lettuce, the savoury crunch of bacon, and the creamy balance of mayonnaise all had to align just right. Too much of anything, and the delicate flavour of harmony would soon collapse into a desolate heap of failure.

It was your first day at “Hazbin Hotel,” a place with the dumbest fucking name you’d ever heard. Redemption, they called it. A program to save sinners, to help them earn their way to heaven. So far, all you’d seen was a ragtag crew of lunatics who wouldn’t have spent five minutes together unless they had their own selfish reasons for being here.

Not that you gave a damn. You were here for one thing: free rent and free food. Your pointy ears twitched at the sound of manic laughter echoing through the halls. Niffty? Swifty? Whatever the hell her name was, you didn’t care enough to remember.

All that mattered right now was your sandwich.

Your orange tail, fluffy and tipped in black, swayed behind you as you worked with precision. The smell of freshly fried bacon lingered in the air, and a satisfied shiver ran down your spine. You squinted, eyeing the perfect amount of mayonnaise that dropped onto the bread with a soft plop. A sense of pride bloomed in your chest as you spread it evenly, knowing this was going to be the best fucking sandwich you’d ever made since coming down to Hell.

Your lips stretched into a grin as you placed the final slice of bread on top, your tail flicking back and forth in anticipation.

This was it.

Perfection.

Nothing could ruin this beautiful moment.

Until, of course, all hell broke loose.

As you stepped into the lobby, plate in hand, you barely had time to process the chaos before you. Your feet skidded to a halt, and you almost dropped your sandwich. The sandwich you would’ve committed six counts of murder for.

“Holy shit!” you yelped, barely saving the plate from tumbling.

There, right in front of you, was Niffty – or Swifty – going full psycho mode, cackling like a maniac as she repeatedly stabbed the newest guest. The guy was on the floor, writhing in agony, while Niffty giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world. “DIE! DIE! DIE! HAHAHA!” she screamed, her voice high-pitched and sharp.

The blood splattered in bright red streaks as her tiny form hovered over him, the blade of her dagger glistening with every wild thrust. You watched, half in horror, half in disbelief, as she continued her assault with a grin that could only belong to someone completely unhinged.

It wasn’t until Charlie – or was it Marley? - rushed in, shouting and waving her arms, that the scene started to settle. “Niffty, stop!” she yelled, scooping up the small, crazed girl with a panicked gasp. The dagger slipped from Niffty’s hand, clattering to the ground, blood still dripping from its blade.

Huh. So, the girl’s name was Niffty.

Noted.

You picked up your sandwich, sinking your teeth into it, and damn near moaned right there in the lobby. The crisp, salty bacon mingled with the fresh crunch of lettuce, all balanced perfectly with the smooth creaminess of mayo. The bread was just the right kind of soft, with a subtle sweetness that tied everything together. It was like biting into a small piece of fucking heaven, even if you were in literal hell.

“Oh, fuck,” came a groan from the man on the floor, interrupting your moment of sandwich bliss. The shitty guy who’d just been stabbed was slowly getting to his feet, looking dazed. “What the fuck!” he whined, wincing as he touched his back, his fingers now slick with blood. “That fucking hurts, like, real bad!”

You rolled your eyes. Drama queen. This was hell, he was going to regenerate in a couple of minutes anyhow. You looked at him, and you almost dropped your sandwich, again.

This guy.

This fucking guy.

Why was this fucking guy here, of all places?

Marley – no, Charlie, fuck, whatever – chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry about that,” she said, flashing a nervous grin. “I, uh, forgot to tell Niffty that you’re not a bad guy anymore and at least she didn’t stab you with Angelic Steel!” she smiled way too brightly, as if that would somehow smooth things over.

The man groaned again, straightening up with an exaggerated wince. “Ugh, I was never a bad guy,” he huffed, raising his hands in a condescending little air-quote gesture. “I was chosen and ordained by the big man upstairs to do what was right.” His nose shot up in the air like he thought he was some hot shit, and he crossed his arms with the kind of arrogance that made you want to punch him in the throat.

You didn’t give two shits about the conversation. Hell, it was taking every ounce of self-control not to rip his trachea out right then and there. Of all the scum in hell, this asshole was the worst.

Before the hotel, you’d made the horrible mistake of matching with him on Vinder, thinking maybe you could enjoy a no-strings-attached fling.

Big fucking mistake.

Your eyes twitched at the flood of memories. His obnoxious, open-mouth chewing. His laugh – raucous, loud, and so fucking embarrassing in public. And the way he’d slapped your ass during the first date like he fucking owned you.

Chauvinistic.

Pig.

Every fibre of your being hated him.

Well, almost everything.

Your fingers tightened around the plate; the half-eaten sandwich forgotten. You hated him with a passion, but you couldn’t deny one thing: he had a huge cock. And, fuck, he knew how to use it. No matter how many times you swore it would be the last time; you kept crawling back, falling into the same damn cycle.

One more fuck turned into two, then three, then how the hell did this happen again?

You were a goddamn addict – specifically, addicted to his dick. If you could slap a paper bag over his head, tie him up, and just ride him without hearing his obnoxious voice, that would be ideal. But you had no fucking self-control, and now here you were, in this weird-ass hotel,probably a cult at this point, hoping for a clean break.

Adam – fucking Adam – caught your eye. His lips curled into a wide grin, teeth flashing like he’d just found a new toy. His red eyes sparkled in the dim light as he swaggered toward you, arms wide open. “Sugartits!” he called out, his voice like nails on a chalkboard. He moved in for a hug.

You ducked under his arm, shooting him the nastiest scowl you could muster. Your ears flattened against your head, tail dropping between your legs in a stiff, unamused twitch.

“You two know each other?” Marley – Charlie – whoever, asked, looking between you both with a raised brow and growing curiosity.

“No,” you said curtly, biting into your sandwich again with more aggression than necessary.

Adam, of course, couldn’t resist. “Oh, you could say I know her very well,” he said with a shit-eating grin, waggling his eyebrows like an idiot.

“Ew,” Marley muttered, grimacing without even trying to hide her disgust.

You groaned inwardly. Of all the fucking people in hell, why did it have to be him?

Before you could even form a word, Adam’s fingers wiggled playfully, his lips curling into an “O” as he honed in on your sandwich like a predator eyeing its prey. “Aww, babe, you shouldn’t have!” he exclaimed, snatching up the sandwich you had poured your soul into for the last thirty minutes.

“Wha-Wait-” you sputtered, horrified, as he stuffed the sandwich into his mouth in two massive bites, crumbs tumbling from his lips without a single ounce of grace.

“Oh, hmm,” he chewed noisily, his cheeks bulging with food as he smacked his lips obnoxiously. “Ya know, I think you-” smack, smack, smack – his disgusting chewing noises clashing with the image of your sandwich being annihilated. “You may have put too much mayonnaise,” he continued, crumbs flying as he spoke with his mouth open. “So, I’d give it a 4 out of 10.”

The low, primal growl that erupted from your throat felt volcanic, like every ounce of rage you’d bottled up over the miserable dates and hollow excuses was bubbling to the surface.

You were fucking done.

Every humiliating dinner where he’d “forgotten” his wallet, every time you’d fucked him to deal with your frustration with him – it all flashed through your mind in an explosive torrent. Without thinking, you grabbed his collar and yanked him down to your level.

“We need to fucking talk,” you growled, teeth clenched, venom practically dripping from your words.

Dragging him towards your room, your eyes narrowed in disgust as Adam shot a wink at Marley, fingers raised in an unmistakable gesture for “fucking.” Of course, he thought this was just some sort of game.

No amount of good dick would make you compromise on your self-respect–-

And yet, here you were, kneeling naked in your room, your mouth wrapped around his thick cock, the taste of him flooding your senses. The worst part? You didn’t even remember how the hell you got here.

“Oh fuck, you missed my cock, didn’t you babe?” Adam groaned; his voice thick with smug satisfaction. His hand gripped the base of his cock while his other fingers curled into your hair, tugging hard enough to make you gasp. “Open that pretty little mouth for me. Say your prayers like the good girl you are,” he crooned, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You hated him. You hated how he could still make you fall to your knees with just a look. One second, you’d been screaming at him, ready to shove a 21-inch dildo up his ass, and the next, he had his cock out, and there you were – sucking him off like nothing had changed.

Fuck.

Your lips stretched painfully around his girth as he pushed deeper into your mouth, groaning as your warmth engulfed him. His soft, pudgy stomach pressed against your forehead as he shoved his fat cock all the way to the hilt. Your throat tightened around him, gagging slightly, but the reaction only made your pussy throb with need. The taste of him was heady, familiar, and it brought back memories of the way he could fuck you into oblivion, no matter how much you hated him.

“That’s it, babe, suck it nice and deep,” Adam grunted, his hips thrusting forward as he buried himself deeper in your throat. “Bet you fucking missed this cock, huh? It’s been too long since you had a real man inside you.”

You rolled your eyes, choking back the desire to tell him to shut the fuck up. If he would just be quiet for one goddamn second, you’d probably cum just from sucking his cock alone. But no, he always had to run his mouth.

Then, his foot pressed firmly between your legs, the top of it rubbing directly against your slick pussy. Your breath hitched as his smug grin stretched wider, his eyes locking onto yours. “Go on, babe,” he taunted, his voice low and teasing. “I want to see you hump like the needy slut you are. Show me how much you fucking need it.”

The words should’ve made you furious, but instead, they sent a shudder of arousal through your body. Your hips moved on their own, grinding down against his foot, your wetness soaking his skin as you rode him like you were desperate for release.

You should hate this. You should hate him.

You do hate him.

But goddammit, you don’t hate this.

“Mmph,” you moaned around his cock, your voice muffled by the thick shaft filling your throat. Your hips bucked wildly against his foot, the pressure building inside you faster than you’d like to admit. The musky taste of his pre-cum sliding down your throat made your whole-body clench in anticipation, bringing you dangerously close to the edge.

“That’s right, sugartits,” Adam groaned, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Look how good you are, sucking my big, fat cock.” The grin on his face was full of smug pride, and you could practically see the self-satisfaction swelling in his chest.

The words “fuck you” echoed in your mind, but the moment his foot sped up, rubbing your clit in rapid strokes, your defiance crumbled beneath the weight of pure pleasure. The sharp edge of it cut through you, sending heat spreading like wildfire as your body tensed. Then, the first orgasm ripped through you, crashing like a wave and leaving your nerves buzzing in its wake.

A muffled moan escaped around his cock, your spit trailing down your chin, your eyes rolling back in your head as your hands dug into his thighs for support. Fuck, it felt good. Fuck, it’s been too long.

Adam pulled his cock free with a wet pop, and you barely had time to catch your breath before your legs trembled, the aftershocks still rippling through you.

But just as you started to get your bearings, the world spun as he flipped you upside down, blood rushing to your head, disorienting you. His cock was right in your face again, and your brain struggled to catch up.

“Wh-what the fuck are you doing?” you screeched, grabbing onto his bare hip for balance, your legs flailing helplessly in the air like a fish out of water.

“Relax, babe. I’m going to eat you out,” he said simply, his breath hot against your dripping folds. He didn’t wait for your reply. “Now, shut up. Either suck my cock or wait your turn like a good girl for your second orgasm.” The condescension in his voice made you want to punch him.

“Fuck you,” you spat, but your words were cut short as Adam ground his cock against your cheek, the heat of him searing into your skin.

“You’re not that – ah – ah – fuck!” The insult died in your throat as your knees buckled, legs trembling with the sudden rush of pleasure. His tongue was already working between your folds, lapping at your wetness with obscene slurping sounds, like he was a dog drinking from a fountain.

“Oh fuck, I’ve had better, you know,” you gasped, but even as you said it, your vision blurred from the lightheadedness, the blood pooling in your head making you dizzy. Your words rang hollow.

Adam didn’t respond with words. Instead, he shoved his thick tongue deeper inside you, practically fucking your pussy with it. The roughness of his beard brushed against your sensitive clit, sending shockwaves through your body that had you trembling.

“Fuck...fuck...” you whined, unable to stop the involuntary moans spilling from your lips. Your hand instinctively found his cock, pumping it with desperate need. You fucking jackass. You hated how his scent, his cock, his fucking presencehad this kind of power over you. The desire to ride him until you couldn’t walk for days burned in your gut.

You hated everything about him – his cocky attitude, his smug grin, his fucking voice.

But fuck, his cock? His cock almost made up for it. Almost.

With a loud curse, as his mouth latched onto your swollen clit and sucked with relentless abandon, you felt yourself losing control. Your mouth opened wide, taking him back inside, your head bobbing back and forth as he fucked your mouth in rhythm with his tongue devouring you.

The pressure from hanging upside down added to the dizzying pleasure, the blood rushing to your head making you lightheaded, while the taste of him hit your tongue. You needed both hands to grip his cock, stroking it harder, faster, desperate for his release – desperate for something to satisfy the ache growing inside you. Every orgasm he gave you left you unsatisfied because you knew the only thing that could truly wreck you was him fucking you senseless.

As he always did.

Your stomach clenched tight, thighs shaking as Adam moaned into your cunt, the vibration sending shivers of delight through you. His nose nudged against the base of your folds, his breath hot and heavy. “You gonna cum again, bitch?” he growled, his voice muffled, but the meaning was clear. The vibration of his words only pushed you closer to the edge.

You hated how right he was. Fuck, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you cum again. You wanted to prove he wasn’t that good, that he didn’t know your body inside and out, that he couldn’t make you sing like a fucking instrument in his hands.

But it was like he could read your mind, taking your challenge as an invitation. He bucked his hips, pistoning into your mouth harder, while his lips and tongue attacked your clit with reckless fervour. Saliva dripped from your mouth, your face flushed and wet with the effort of keeping up with his pace.

It was only a matter of time. Your body betrayed you, your ass clenched, your legs spread wider, and with one last pulse of his tongue against your sensitive nub, you exploded. Another orgasm hit you, more intense than the last, your muffled cries of release vibrating around his cock as your body shook in his grasp.

Tears blurred your vision, streaming down your face as waves of pleasure coursed through your body, leaving you breathless. The world spun once more as Adam laid you down, your back hitting the mattress with a soft thud.

Your chest heaved, breath ragged, and your left leg twitched with the aftershocks pulsing through your still-throbbing core. The only sounds were your gasps and his own laboured breathing, tangled together in the humid air.

Through bleary, tear-filled eyes, you glared up at him. “Fuck you,” you managed to spit out between shaky breaths.

Adam, ever the cocky bastard, stroked his cock, slick with your spit, his hand gliding smoothly along his length. “Babe, that’s exactly what I’m about to do.” His smirk was infuriating, and all you could think about was shoving his face between your legs, smothering him with your pussy until he couldn’t talk anymore. God, you wanted to suffocate him with it. Death by cunt? Sign me the fuck-up.

Why did he have to be such a colossal dick? The thought barely crossed your mind before his knees sank into the mattress, the bed groaning under his weight.

“It you didn’t - hah – talk so much, you’d almost be tolerable,” you shot back, each word laced with venom.

He burst out into bright laughter. “Tolerable? Baby, the way you worship my cock, you’re practically my most devout follower.” His sharp grin caught the dim light, and you couldn’t help the eye-roll that followed.

“Holy fuck, you’re the biggest douchebag I know, I can’t even – ah!” Your words turned into a yelp as he slammed his hips against yours, burying himself deep inside you, aided by the slick remnants of your previous orgasms and his saliva.

“Feel that?” he huffed, rolling his hips against your oversensitive clit, his voice dripping with smugness. “Look how fucking needy you are, bitch,” his grin widened as he looked down at you, eyes gleaming. “How many other cocks have tried to fill you since me? Any of them as good?” His hips slammed into yours, the wet, filthy sound of skin meeting skin filling the room.

“Tell me, huh? Bet none of them could do this.” He pulled out, teasing you, before driving his cock back in, deeper, harder, the tip nudging against your cervix.

“FUCK!” you screamed, legs instinctively spreading wider, your body arcing up to meet his. “You’re - ugh – such – a – fucking – ugh – ASS!” Each word was broken by the force of his persistent thrusts, the bed beneath you creaking in rhythm with his movements. It was like the damn thing was protesting as loudly as you were.

“Good?” he smirked, filling in the blanks for you with every thrust. “Sexy? Amazing? Fantastic?” His pace quickened, clearly getting off on his own damn ego. If there was one thing he’d come from, it was the sound of his own bullshit.

“All - ugh – you're good for – is your dick,” you growled, strands of hair sticking to your sweaty face, your skin slick with the sheen of your effort. You hated him, hated how smug he was, how cocky – and fuck, how right he was about how good his cock felt.

Adam pulled out, his cock rock-hard and glistening with your arousal clinging to him. He gripped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your ass up and pressing your face into the mattress.

Your heart skipped. This was the position that always wrecked you. Every. Single. Time.

“That’s why,” he lined up, the blunt tip of his cock teasing your entrance, “they call me the Dickmaster.” He punctuated his words by thrusting into you in one fluid stroke, filling you completely, pushing deep until he hit your womb. Your back arched as a shameless moan tore from your lips, your body curling from the overwhelming fullness.

“FUCK.” You nearly screamed. “Dickmaster? Are you fucking serious?” But despite the sheer cringe of the nickname, your body betrayed you. You moaned, louder, longer, as he thrust into you. The pleasure mixed with the sheer absurdity of it all.

He was so fucking cheesy. The cringiest man alive. Dickmaster? More like Cringemaster. And yet, here you were, being dicked down by this walking embarrassment, moaning like a bitch in heat. The passion you felt for him, the anger, the lust – it all mixed into a chaotic storm, burning hot inside you.

“Fuuuck youuu,” you wailed, voice trembling as Adam’s hips resumed their brutal, punishing rhythm. Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, his hand coming down hard on your ass, the crack of skin-on-skin only fuelling the fire that was already burning through you.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna fucking kill you,” you sobbed, the sting from each slap merging with the pleasure, searing through your core as the heat radiated across your skin. You were sure his handprint was branded on your ass, marking you as his.

The pleasure built and built, his heavy balls slapping mercilessly against your clit with each thrust. It was overwhelming, your body trembling in a puddle of your own arousal, tears, and drool.

Why did you keep coming back to him? Out of all the sinners you could fuck, you always crawled back to him for a taste of that damn dick.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted mindlessly, your cunt squeezing tight around him as another orgasm threatened to break loose. But just when you were on the edge, he reached for your tail and yanked. Hard.

“YIP!” you screeched, the sharp, high-pitched squeal erupting from your throat as the flames of your arousal were doused instantly. You whipped your head around, glaring at him over your shoulder. “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” you barked, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that you were on all fours, impaled on his cock with your ass still up in the air.

Adam’s eyes widened, his expression morphing from confusion to realization. “Oh shit, so that wasn’t your butt plug?” he asked, cock still buried deep inside you, pulsing against your fluttering walls that betrayed the fury burning inside you.

“WE’VE BEEN FUCKING FOR OVER HALF A YEAR, YOU ASSHOLE,” you snapped, baring your teeth in a snarl. “YOU EVEN FUCKED MY ASS! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I’D BE WEARING A BUTT PLUG NOW?”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, but his hips didn’t stop rocking gently into you, sending shivers up your spine despite your anger. “Babe, it was an honest mistake,” he said before licking his fingers and sliding one thick digit down, pressing against your ass. “Let me make it up to you.”

Before you could protest, his finger was already pushing past the tight ring of muscle, sinking into your ass as your tail stiffened in response. “Oh, fuck,” you groaned, your resolve crumbling as the pleasure returned full force. His finger curled just right, rubbing the thin wall separating your pussy from your ass, sending jolts of ecstasy through both holes.

“Remember when I took your anal virginity?” Adam’s voice was smug, but the curl of his finger had you moaning instead of cursing him out. He pumped his finger slowly, in sync with the thrusts of his cock, his breath ragged with excitement. “You told me you hated anal, but look at you now. Begging for more.”

Your head dropped onto the mattress, your tail wagging unconsciously as he added another finger, stretching you wider. You closed your eyes, trying to block out his annoying voice, but your ass wiggled back against him, betraying your need for more. “Fucking hell,” you whimpered, completely undone.

He laughed, the sound deep and rich. “Told you. After I finish with your pussy, I’ll give that ass some love too. They don’t call me the dickmaster for nothing.” His voice was maddening, but the way his fingers curled inside you made you forget how much you wanted to punch him.

Your ears flicked back, frustration mingling with desire. If only he would shut the fuck up, you would’ve come already – twice, even.

“Babe, you want my load that bad?” Adam cooed, his voice breathy as his cock twitched inside you. “You wanna be my cum dump?” he chuckled, fingers and cock working in perfect, relentless tandem.

“Sh-sh-shut up,” you moaned, voice low and trembling as your walls tightened around both his cock and his fingers. You were so close, teetering on the edge.

If he would just stop talking...

He pulled his fingers out of your ass, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness. His wet fingers gripped your hips, pulling your ass up higher as he pressed his weight down on you. Then, he started to fuck you hard – exactly the way you liked it – each brutal thrust forcing you down into the bed.

Your breath came in broken gasps, each thrust stealing the words from your lips as his cock filled you completely, forcing your slick walls to stretch for him. The bed creaked and groaned under you, matching the wet slap of skin on skin, the rhythmic pounding filled the room. Your stomach clenched, thighs quivering as you squeezed your eyes shut, knowing you were about to explode.

When his cock hit your g-spot again and again, your moan rose low and long, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You babbled incoherently, swearing and pleading for him to fill you.

And he did.

He always fucking did.

Hot, thick spurts of cum flooded your pussy, painting your insides as the pleasure ripped through you, wave after wave. You were wrecked, ruined, and thoroughly fucked – just the way you wanted it.

He pushed your body down, rolling you onto your back and stretching your thighs wide apart like he was prepping a canvas for his masterpiece. The thrill of being exposed sent shivers down your spine, and before you could catch your breath, his lips found your aching, sensitive clit.

His fingers dove into your cum-soaked folds, the squelching sounds echoing in the air, making you feel like a goddamn wet sponge. You were so close to the edge of another orgasm that your muscles quivered with anticipation. Your head tilted back, pressing against the bed, and you gasped as warmth flooded out of you, mingling with Adam’s thick, syrupy load.

“OH FUCK, FUCK!” you cried out, fingers curling tightly against the bedsheets, heels digging into the mattress like you were trying to anchor yourself to sanity. His mouth continued to suck at your oversensitive bud, relentless and teasing, even as you drenched him with your essence.

You peeked open your eyes to find him grinning like a kid in a candy store, his face glistening with your juices, and it sent a fresh wave of heat rushing to your core. The feeling of him latching onto you was intoxicating, pushing you to new heights as your walls pulsated around his fingers, unable to tell whether this was yet another orgasm or simply an extension of the last.

“ADAM!” you screamed, practically sobbing as your body jolted and convulsed under his ministrations. Pleasure poured over you, and your breath came in heavy gasps, your mind slipping into a blissful haze. His fingers curled perfectly inside you, mashing your g-spot like he was playing some twisted game of whack a mole, keeping you suspended in a state of everlasting pleasure.

The last thing you registered before the world faded away was Adam moaning your name, his voice vibrating through your very core like a damn choir.

When you fluttered your eyes open again, your body was still bare and sprawled out like a starfish on the bed. You heard that familiar sound of suckling, and looking down, you couldn’t help but groan at the sight – his familiar mop of brown hair nestled between your thighs, still focused on drinking you up like a man starved for 40 days and 40 nights.

Pleasure washed over you in soft, slow strokes as Adam continued to eat you out. “How long have you been down there?” you asked, voice hoarse from all the screaming and moaning.

His head popped up, lips and chin glistening with your arousal. “Dunno, but they do call me the ultimate pussy eater,” he said with a cheeky grin, like he was the fucking king of the world.

You dropped your head back against the bed, trying to stifle a laugh. “No, they don’t,” you muttered, breath hitching as his tongue parted your slick folds again. “Fuck, we can’t keep doing this,” you whined, instinctively opening your thighs wider to give him better access.

His fingers gripped your hips, anchoring you as his tongue burrowed deeper into your pussy, pressing against your inner walls, exploring every inch like he was on some treasure hunt.

Naturally, he didn’t listen to your protests. He continued to slurp and lick, devouring you like a feast, and you should have stopped him.

You really should have.

But as a jolt of pleasure shot up your spine, tingling all the way to your core, a soft, breathy moan escaped your lips.

Fuck, this was bad. You had come to the hotel knowing you had little self-control around him, and at this rate, you were destined to fuck him every day.

Your body, soft and pliant, refused to budge; instead, you pushed your hips deeper into his mouth. “Fuck you,” you murmured weakly, as he coaxed another sultry moan from your lips. “This will be the last fucking time, I swear,” you insisted, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushed you closer to the edge of pleasure.

But deep down, you knew you had said it was the last time so many fucking times that you’d lost count of your own vows.

You hated him, yes.

But fuck him and fuck yourself.

You didn’t hate this.

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

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alexa-fika · 5 months ago

Note

If your requests are open, how would you feel about child reader being found by Garp, Helmeppo, and Koby?

(Maybe their crew thought they were on the ship and accidentally forgot them on an island or something idk, I just want grandpa Garp with his new grandbaby)

New Apprentice (Koby, Helmeppo x gn!Child!reader x Garp)

A/N YA’LL I COOKED HERE, highkey worried that they are ooc here but other than that I LIKE, proud of how this one turn out, let me know what you think of it. Big brother Koby and Helmeppo 🥹, guys am I the only one picturing that being one of the most wholesome things?

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Koby, are you even listening?!”

“Haha, I am Helmeppo”

“Seriously, you have got to start….

Koby let out a nervous laugh as Helmeppo began going on a tangent, scolding him as he focused on the path ahead of him, paying little attention to his partner’s rambles, only giving out the occasional quip here and there to keep him appeased, which did, until he spotted something in the path that got his attention.

He frowned, kneeling down to look at the object, catching the attention of Helmeppo, who watched over his shoulder.

“Huh, is that a stuffed toy?” He asked, looking at the dirt-covered wolf as Koby picked it up, wincing at the red splashes matting its fur

“Yeah…has blood on it.”

“Maybe it’s from someone who left it long ago, maybe from a kid who tripped?” The blond suggested

“No, it’s way too much to be from a scrape, and look,” he said, pointing at the path.

Helmeppo frowned as he spotted the small tracks that cut through the path leading out into the small forest that surrounded it.

“It rained earlier today, so these had to happen recently, and the blood is fresh, too,” he muttered.

“Let’s go,” The pinkenette announced, following the direction of the tracts, letting himself be guided by the disturbed soil, broken branches, and the occasional drops of red that colored the ground.

“Hey do you thi- Hey! What the hell, Koby?”

“Wha-? What’s wrong Helmeppo-san?”

“Don’t give me that you just chucked a stone at me!”

“What are you talking about Helmeppo-san?” Koby asked, confused as he stood up from his kneeling position as he looked at the tracks

“If it wasn’t you, then wh-OW.”

“I -I will hurt you, s-so go away!” A small voice cried, chucking a rock at the marine

Koby let out a hiss, rubbing his head and turning to the voice, easily finding the culprit standing in one of the tree’s lower branches, a small child holding a handful of stones in their hands.

“Hey, how about we put those down?”

“No!” They cried, throwing yet more rocks at both of them

They squeaked as Helmeppo pulled out his swords and easily cut through the stones set his way. What most caught them off guard, however, was Koby’s sudden disappearance. They stared at the spot he had stood at confused, looking around to see where the man had went with no success.

The child released a surprised gasp as they soon found out the man had appeared beside them on the branch.

Koby enveloped the child in a tight but gentle embrace and jumped off the tree; before he had a chance to address the kid, he found himself stepping back, a shocked look on his face as the child pulled a small knife, trying to stab him.

He frowned, watching as the kid took the opportunity to run behind the tree.

“Koby, wait,” Helmeppo called, putting his arm on his partner’s shoulder to prevent him from pursuing the child.

“Helmeppo-san? We should get the knife from them; they could hurt themselves or hurt someone.”

“I think we should try a different way, look,” he said, gesturing to the crying child peeking out of the tree.

“They aren’t trying to hurt someone; I think they are just scared.”

“Ah, I’m sorry! I don’t want to hurt you; I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Koby cried, taking in the child’s state, letting another cry as the kid ducked behind the tree when he reached out to them.

“Ah, I must have scared you, right? I didn’t mean it; I really am sorry for that,” he apologized, a nervous smile on his face as he sat down. Helmeppo followed suit and sat next to him.

Dokucha popped their head out again, watching as the men sat cross-legged, ways away from the tree.

“Umm, we found this earlier,” Koby tried, showing them the wolf plush.

“Ah! Mr.Okami!” they exclaimed, stepping away from the tree and trying to reach for the stuffed toy, only to realize their actions and quickly step back.

“It’s okay; you can have it back if you’d like; how about we trade?” Helmeppo suggested, pointing to the knife

They seemed to think about it, glancing at the knife in their arms and Helmeppo’s awaiting hand to the stuffed toy Koby was offering to them. Finally, as they slowly made their way to them, they placed the knife on Helmeppo’s hand. The former gave them a small smile as they then walked in front of Koby and grabbed the stuffed toy, hugging the toy tightly as they sat in front of them.

“H-hey, you’re bleeding!” Koby exclaimed, apologizing when they flinched at his tone

Koby glanced at Helmeppo, wondering how they should approach the situation.

“Hey, how about another trade? Your wolf looks like he needs a wash, right?” Helmeppo asks, glancing at their plush

Koby catches on quickly and looks at them with a smile.

“How about we wash him for you, and you let us look at your wound?”

“Y-you’ll keep him safe?”

“The safest,” Koby reassures with a smile.

“Okay”

“Hey, Mister Koby?”

“Yeah?”

“How..umm…how did you disappear before?” They question, looking away as he glanced up at them from his bandaging work

“Disappear?”

“Yeah, when I umm, when I threw a stone at you, you disappeared.”

“Oh, that? It’s a fighting technique; I didn’t disappear; I just moved really fast. It’s called Soru,” he explained with a grin, his attention back on the bandages being applied.

“I uh- I think it was really awesome.”

“Haha, It was nothing; many marines can do it; Helmeppo can do It too,” he brushed off.

“You’re being too modest, Koby,” Helmeppo sighed from his place at the sink, trying to wash the grime and blood off the stuffed toy.

“It’s going to have to soak for a while to make him all clean,” he called, drying his hands off and walking closer to the pair. Seeing the look on the child’s face, he pulled something from his pocket and handed it to them.

“Here, you can take care of our Den-den Mushi for now.”

“It looks different,” they muttered.

“What do you mean?” Koby asked as he clipped the bandage and stepped back

“It looked different in the ship; it was black and white.”

Koby and Helmeppo pause, glancing at each other at the kid’s comment

“Ship?” questioned Helmeppo

“Y-Yeah”

“What did you do at the ship?”

“T-they made me clean the ship, but sometimes they would make me fight o-others or test things for them.”

Those words were all the pair needed to grasp where the child might have come from and what their job at the ship could have been.

“Is that how you got that?” Helmeppo said, pointing to their now bandaged wound

They shook their head at that but made no move to explain themselves.

“Could you tell us about it?” Koby prompted

Once again, they received all but a shake of their head.

“Why?” questioned the blond marine, a frown on his face

“I don’t w-want them to hurt me.”

“They won’t,” Koby answered with a grin.

“We’ll protect you,” Helmeppo confirmed with a slight smile.

“Pinky promise?” they asked, holding out their pinkies.

The two let out a small laugh but nodded and interlocked their fingers with theirs, their pinkies enveloping the child’s much smaller ones.

After sealing the promise, Dokucha proceeded to tell them what had occurred. It seemed like the man who they worked under was dark and twisted, enjoying the creation of painful and deadly viruses and, even more, testing it on the child, letting them reach the verge of death before finally giving them the antidote.

Despite this treatment, it was this same man’s love for pitting his subordinates against each other in a deathmatch that caused them their current wound. As they had refused to hurt the other subordinates, they had found themselves being punished for insubordination by the man.

Koby and Helmeppo listened intently to the child’s story, horrified at the treatment they had endured, and drove the two to tears and sniffles as they embraced them and repeated their promise.

Dokucha’s lip trembled as they sat on Koby’s lap, Helmeppo sitting next to them, an older man sitting in front of them listening as his subordinates filled him on what had happened and why they had returned with a child.

“Wahahaha! Another one?!” he laughed, his booming laugh echoing around the small office

“What about you, you little brat? Do you want to be a marine? Or do you want to be a pirate and have me beat that out of you?”

“Uh, Vice-Admiral Garp, I don’t thin-

“Eek! I- umm- ah-

“Spit it out!”

“Umm, I- I’m not very good at fighting, and I don’t like it either, but I want to be with Koby and Helmeppo!” They exclaimed, apologizing and returning to their timid state once they had realized their outburst

“Wahahaha! That’s a good answer, you squirt. I think I’m going to like you! In that case, you will train under them.”

“T-Train?! Vice-Admiral Garp, I don’t think we are ready to train someone.”

“Don’t worry, Koby! You and Helmeppo will turn them into a fine marine!” He exclaimed with a booming laugh

"How about it, kid?!”

“…” They stayed quiet, unaware of the sudden shift of attention, quiet with a strained smile on their trembling face, eyes blown wide at the interaction

“Uh, Dokucha?” Helmeppo asked, leaning closer to the kid, trying to get their attention

“He was asking you,” he explained

“Yes!”

Koby let out a laugh at their rushed answer as he, too, leaned toward them

“He asked if you would like to train with us, to be a marine.”

“I can be with Koby and Helmeppo?”

“Yes, you would stay with us.”

“I - I really would like that,” they answered bashfully

“Good, I‘ll come by from time to time to check on you and give you some private lessons,” he grinned, smashing his fist against his open palm

“No!!” They screamed as they hightailed it out of the office

“Ah, wait, Dokucha, come back!”

okay I really struggled with the Garp part and the timeskip leading up to him, so do let me know if you liked it. I really struggled him adding him so hopefully it checked the box of Garp and Grandbaby interaction 😂

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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yanderes-galore · 1 month ago

Note

Mind if I ask for a yandere romantic concept of Luffy from one piece, please??? He needs more love and I'm desperate XD 🦢

I am HOPING I did this man justice. Hope you enjoy it either way though.

Extra Concept About Rivals Here

Yandere! Monkey D. Luffy Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Clingy behavior, Jealousy, Manipulation, Violence, Attempted murder, Blood, Delusional behavior, Dubious/Forced relationship

I feel Luffy struggles to entirely understand romantic love.

He cares for his crew and loves them like they're found family.

Yet with you, the feeling seems... stronger?

He doesn't entirely get it, Even when Sanji attempts to explain it.

Although, knowing the cook, he probably explained it like some romance tale.

Which just left Luffy a bit confused.

Let's discuss yandere type.

I can definitely say Luffy is a protective yandere.

He's caring and can read you well.

Naturally, like with most of his crew, Luffy would move heaven and Earth to protect you and see you smile.

He just enjoys seeing you smile.

I'm pretty sure he'd do anything to see you happy.

Luffy seems like a simple character.

He doesn't think things through, he's reckless, oblivious at times, carefree...

But he cares a lot about those he views as family.

Simple minded maybe, yet he's a loyal and compassionate leader.

Luffy's obsession would manifest in a simple way at first.

He doesn't think much of it.

He's excited to be around you, always wants to spend time with you, he's protective of you when you explore new islands...

He's oblivious and doesn't see anything wrong or special about this.

In fact, his crew may notice his behavior before him.

To anyone else, it looks like Luffy has a crush whenever he stares at you longingly.

He's usually always smiles and laughs, yet with you he seems extra excited.

Others may also notice Luffy being more... clingy.

He's extra affectionate with you.

There's many times Luffy will pull you into hugs and neglect his other crewmates.

It's like whenever you're around, he latches on to you.

He doesn't see anything different or wrong with it too.

Even with jealousy... He understands he gets upset when he sees others so close to you.

But he doesn't entirely understand why other than thinking you could be hurt?

Or maybe he knows he wants your attention, but isn't sure why.

He's quite the clueless and oblivious yandere at times.

He might have a better idea of it later after the timeskip.

But until then he just thinks you two are really close friends or something.

It's not like he's ever had a proper example, y'know?

He's seen flirting, kissing, attractive people...

Yet he just doesn't get it.

I feel this man is not only clueless when it comes to romantic feelings and dating... but also anything past that.

He just knows he likes being around you, he likes holding you, he likes it when you smile...

He hates sharing... He gets anxious when away from you... He feels he has to follow you around...

Recently he's been staring at your lips lately, which is a bit weird...

I feel someone would have to explain to him what he's feeling.

Hell, even if you were flirting with him or was just being affectionate, he's confused.

Although he often finds himself thinking back on it later.

Once it's explained to him, he has a better idea on what he's feeling...

Then his obsession goes into overdrive.

He's now curious on how to properly explore such feelings towards you.

He may even ask you about it.

He isn't sure what couples do, so maybe without your knowledge, he'd just treat you like you're already together.

As he's properly understanding his feelings, Luffy does not let you go.

He's clingy and craves attention from his obsession.

His hugs are suffocating due to his anatomy.

That and ever since he learned what his feelings could mean... He gets into fights with his crew and others more often.

It usually happens when you're talking to people and there's some playful language.

It might not even be flirting.

Only for Luffy to appear out of nowhere with a glare.

He becomes like an irritated guard dog at times.

I'm pretty sure Luffy would kill a man if left unsupervised.

He's easily jealous and also can easily be set off.

When it comes to protecting those he loves, Luffy would do anything.

He doesn't care much about blood on his hands.

What he cares about is you being safe.

Or to be more specific... safe, happy, and by his side.

As stated in a previous concept, you should probably start prying him off people when he's set off.

If you'd like them to live.

You'd have no idea about you two "dating", but Luffy's convinced dating is just what you two have been doing this whole time.

Although, you get hints when he asks about what partners and couples do.

When you answer, his response is simple and oddly innocent.

"Can we do that?"

Even if you try to let him off easy, he doesn't believe you.

He's admittedly a bit cute with how affectionate and clueless he is.

But he's just so dangerous.

You don't expect him to hurt you, yet those who aren't you are an entirely different story.

Luffy would never let you leave the crew.

Even when the timeskip happens, He will latch onto you.

He's pleading and refuses to let go.

Good luck prying a rubber man off you.

He's just going to coil tighter until you give up.

Luffy probably kidnaps but doesn't consider what he did to be that.

Manipulating you onto the boat with guilt trips and force isn't kidnapping in his eyes.

Again, he's oblivious and clueless.

Beating someone to a bloody pulp isn't attempted murder to him.

He's just protecting you and showing that you're partners!

Partners must be loyal to one another!

That's what he's heard, at least...

God FORBID another crew or island takes you as a hostage.

Luffy would demolish them to take you back.

He can have bloodlust when he's pushed.

Overall, I always saw Luffy as a rather clueless and oblivious yandere.

He's affectionate, clingy, some may call him cute and loyal...

Yet even when clueless half the time and not intentionally malicious or possessive, he is a dangerous man on the seas and land when it comes to you.

#yandere one piece #yandere one piece x reader #yandere monkey d luffy #yandere luffy

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luna0713hunter · 1 year ago

Note

hi can you do shanks x reader where he gets jealous when he sees the reader and a crewmate get close? with a fluffy ending please 💞

(i've never requested anything before so sorry if it doesnt make sense)

Author's note : hello darling!how are you doing? Happy Halloween!!!! I love this request so much cause I'm a huge sucker for jealousy fics lmao!!! (And ofc my dear! it's totally alright!feel free to drop by again!)

I want your eyes,only on me

Shanks x reader

Warnings : jealous Shanks,swearing,drinking,some thoughts about insecurities,age gap relationship,maybe slightly suggestive?, sprinkle of angst,and ofc,FLUFF and happy ending

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

When the cold liquid slides down Shanks' throat,he wonders if the booze is more bitter or the sight of you.

On normal occasions,or basically on daily basis,the mere sight of you is enough to make his heart swell and a warm smile bloom on his face. But right now,as he watches you laugh and giggle at a joke that the newest member of his crew had just made,the youngest member beside you,he cant help but to wonder if he can drink until he blacks out completely.

Its not the first time he's done that after all.

Shanks downs the last of his drink while throwing his head back,and clenches his teeth from the bitterness that burns his throat,and sets his now empty glass on the table with a loud BANG.

Its honestly a surprise how the glass hadn't shattered yet.

Just as he's about to complain about the lack of whiskey on his table, someone slides right beside him and pours him his comfort drink.

Shanks barely raises his head,already knowing who has come to his rescue.

"planning to black out,Cap?"

"Fuck off, Yasopp."

The red hair pirate's eyebrow twitches when Yasopp lets out his booming laughter. He drinks his entire glass in one go and squeezes his eyes shut.

That was some heavy alcohol. He would surely regret it tomorrow,but for now,its his only salvation.

"what's gotten you in such a good mood,Shanks? I'm actually worried you might overdose if you keep going like that."

Shanks doesnt turn his head away from you,but slides his empty glass toward Yasopp, silently asking for more.

His new member of the crew smiles gently at your giggling form,and offers you a sweet drink while whispering something in your ear.

Shanks feels his single arm shake as he raises the glass to his oddly dry lips and this time,takes a single sip.

He wonders when he's became so weak and soft.

But he always liked you as his only weakness. He loved to be soft for you.

"he's so young. It doesnt help that he's good kid too."

"hold on," Yasopp raises his eyebrow and drinks his own drink;his expression turning confused slightly as he eyes Shanks,you,and then his new crewmate, "are you talking about the new kid?"

"perhaps."

"what about him?"

"dont tell me you havent seen him flirting with y/n all night long. Just look how close they are." He lets out a bitter laugh,and tries to wet his lips with his even more bitter tongue. The taste disgusts him.

"they're almost the same age. I wouldn't be surprised if y/n left for him."

When Yasopp pulls the glass out of his hand,he swears he's ready to raise hell.

"ok, that's enough booze for you."

"are you asking for a fight?you know i can kick your ass,drunk or not."

Yasopp shakes his head and puts the glass far away from his reach. Shanks groans and throws his head back.

"i get that you think he's interested in y/n. But you're obviously way too drunk if you think he has such a power."

"huh?"

"to steal y/n from you,you idiot."

"i swear I'm gonna kick your as-"

"hey,are you overdoing it again?"

And if Shanks still had his glass with him,he would've smashed it on Yasopp's smug face when he heard your voice.

"actually,he is. Would you mind looking after him?"

He groans and throws his arm over his eyes, wondering if he could ask someone to help him get to the ship.

He assumes your answer was positive;since suddenly he can feel your warmth right by his side and a heavy silence falling over the both you.

And when you reach out to brush his bangs out of his face,he turns his head slightly.

"already done with your new friend?"

He watches from the corner of his eyes how your pretty lips pull down,and a small frown settles on your beautiful face.

Gods, he's such an idiot.

But he cant help it. He cant help the bitter and ugly feeling rising in his chest when he sees you talking to someone younger than him. Someone better,more handsome. Someone more close to your age. Someone he's sure you'll be more happy and comfortable with. And he swears he trusts you with all his heart,but he cant blame you if some day you up and left;when one day that actually happens.

He wouldn't stay for him too.

"Shanks, what're you talking about?"

"its nothing," he swallows and he blames it on his alcohol consumed mind, "you should go and have fun. Dont mind me."

And he expects you to do as he says. He expects you to stump away from him;to never look back and finally realizing that you're far more happy without him.

But gods above, he's such a fool.

Instead of hearing you walk away,he feels your warm, gentle hands prying his arm away from his face. With one hand,you caress the back of his rough one,and with the other,you trace his stumbles.

"Babe," your voice is so soft,that it has him swallowing around the lump in his throat, "talk to me,please?"

And how can he ever say no to you?

"i saw...how you enjoyed spending time with the new kid," he clears his throat and closes his eyes when you caress his scarred face, "i dont blame you. No one does. He's a good kid; brilliant, handsome,younger than me-"

"Ok,hold on a sec," you suddenly interrupt him;your voice bewildered as you watch him open his eyes and staring at you questioningly, "you think I'm going to leave you for him, because he's younger than you?"

Shanks blinks.

"yes?"

When you huff,Shanks opens his mouth to defend himself but you beat him to it. You rest the palm of your hands on his cheeks and pull his face closer;making sure to whisper each word against his lips.

"I thought you knew,how much i love our age gap,Cap."

Shanks' eyes draw to your lips,and when you whisper your next words teasingly,he swears he becomes drunk on your breath alone.

"i wouldn't leave you for the world;not even for the One Piece. Never forget that,Daddy."

And at that,Shanks dives for your lips.

The kiss is hungry, unlike any other kiss the two of you had shared in public. Shanks' lips taste like whiskey,a drink you've never liked,but you dont complain about it.

Just having your captain in your arms is more than enough for you.

When the kiss becomes more inappropriate for public eyes,you push slightly at Shanks' chest and giggle when you see him pout.

The red hair captain,one of the most powerful pirates in the seven seas, pouting because you refuse to kiss him more in public.

"babe, we're in public. Save that for when we get to the ship,alright?"

Shanks' groans,and to your surprise, suddenly lays down until his head is in your lap. You thread your fingers through his red locks,and giggle when he nuzzles in you further.

"dont get close to that kid,or I'm throwing him off the ship."

"for your information,he was telling me how much of a great couple you and i make,and that he looks up to you so much."

"..."

You laugh loudly and Shanks' buries his head more in your lap.

"no more word about this. You have to take care of me tomorrow too."

"i always take care of your hangovers,you big baby."

And when you press your lips to his forehead, Shanks seems to finally calm down.

"i love you."

And Shanks know it's a promise you'll never break,not in a billion years.

Not even when you're offered the One Piece on a golden plate.

#one piece live action x reader #one piece x reader #opla shanks x reader #shanks x reader #opla shanks #opla x reader

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schemmentis · 8 months ago

Text

Revelation

Anon asked: Prompt: With Jacob living with Melissa, he sees how gay she is around reader and tries to open her eyes for it.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.3k

Pt. 2

“So…” Jacob drawls as he brings the last of the dirty dishes in from the living room. “When are we gonna talk about it? Because I kinda can't pretend I'm not seeing what I'm seeing at this point.”

“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout?” Melissa questions. A stern look at him for his not forthright way of speaking. “Talk about what, kid?”

“Y'know…Y/N.”

“What about Y/N?” Melissa rephrases her original question as she takes a step away from her sink. A hand on her hip as she outright glares at Jacob now. Irritated at his still beating around the actual topic, and now that he's bringing you into it too.

You were the newest member of their little Abbott crew. Still, you had been around long enough that they all knew you fairly well. Melissa, arguably, the most of all of them. Though she wasn't necessarily the warmest person; she certainly was more so than when you had first met her.

You were now a regular on the couch for morning news, at Mel and Barb's table for lunch, and the game nights the red head sometimes hosted. The crew, especially Janine, had wanted it to be held more often. Melissa maintained once a month was more than enough to invite them all into her space after school hours.

She stands even more firm on that stance now that Jacob is staying with her. She's grown more fond of him in their short time so far as roommates. He'd surprised her on more than one occasion for some of the things they had in common. The sharing of Real HouseWives goes a long way just by itself. Still, she wasn't about to invite anyone in any further.

Except, when she wasn't paying attention she already had. You had taken the spot right behind Barbara of being her favorite. Some days, you surpassed her work wife too.

She raises an eyebrow when Jacob still stands across from her in the kitchen. Game night had just ended and he was kindly helping clean up afterward. Then he had to ruin Melissa's mood by implying something about you. She still didn't understand what the younger man was trying to get at as he stumbled over the start of his next sentence beneath her glare. She knew, though, if it was anything bad about you she was prepared to make it however long they stayed sharing a living space hell for him. Even if she did like him.

“Would you just spit it out?”

“How much you like Y/N, is what I was trying to say. I didn't realize how close you two were until now.”

Melissa scoffs. This is what he had gotten her worked up over? She tugs the dish towel slung over her shoulder off to toss it onto Jacob's. “You dry.” She mutters, turning back to her sink to begin washing the used dishes.

“Of course I like Y/N. I don't see what the big deal is.” Melissa says after a moment of washing in silence.

“I knew you always picked her to team up with on game nights, obviously.” Jacob says as he dries the plate she's handed him. “And how you guys are at school and all. I just never noticed the other stuff until staying here.”

“What other stuff, Hill?”

Jacob's brow furrows, realizing Melissa really doesn't see it. “You talk to her every night on the phone.” He says, gently setting the plate into the dish rack before taking the bowl she's holding out to him. “Even though it's only been a few hours since you saw her last.”

“So?”

“I mean, do you do that with Barbara?”

“No, why would I? I'll talk to her in the mornin’ or Monday, whatever. Whenever we're at school next. Unless somethin’ bad's happened.”

“Right…” Jacob trails off, trying to navigate the conversation carefully. Part of him worries he's reading too much into things. The other part is worried he's already irritated the redhead just by starting this conversation and if he is right it's clearly going to be a revelation for Melissa.

He clears his throat, trying another approach. “Do you and, uh, Barbara do anything on the weekends?”

Melissa gives him a side eyed look. A little bit like he's dumb for asking. At least, he's sort of used to that one from her. “No. She's got church and Gerald.” She says like that's obvious and he should know that.

Which, he does know. He shifts the piece of silverware he's drying to the dish rack. “Last weekend you went to the movies with Y/N.”

“Yeah, she wanted to see Barbie. Again. She insisted it's different at the theater.”

“The weekend before that you went to the farmer's market together.”

“I'm not gonna pass up fresh produce, especially the peppers. I can use those in plenty of dishes and you get twice as much than at the supermarket. Besides, Y/N is always looking for fresh, local honey. New vendors, too. If somebody new is at one of the local markets then she's gotta go check it out.”

Silently, Jacob is begging Melissa to get his point but he can see she really isn't.

“You don't think it's…different with Y/N?”

“It's different with all youse.” Melissa answers as she shoves the last cleaned plate into Jacob's hands, frustrated at his prodding. “I ain't with you like I am with Barb and I'm not with Barb like I am with Y/N. What's it matter?”

“It doesn't.” Jacob answers quickly. At least, it doesn't in the way he can tell his questions are beginning to stress Melissa out. He certainly isn't judging, or trying to.

He thought Melissa at least had an idea of the different way her relationship with Y/N was when he first brought it up. He thought he had just caught onto something that was being kept private. Now, though, it's clear to him that Melissa hasn't even considered that relationship to this level.

“I just noticed you guys…spend a lot of time together is all. I thought…” Jacob stops himself from finishing his thought. He doesn't know how Melissa will take it now.

“You thought what?” Melissa presses, wiping down the kitchen counter. She doesn't turn to him but Jacob can hear the glare in her tone.

“I thought you guys were…seeing where things were going.” Jacob hedges.

“What's that even ‘spose to mean?”

“I thought you were dating and just not ready to tell everyone yet.” Jacob finally says plainly.

“Dating?” Melissa echoes, turning back to face Jacob now. In half a second, she gauges his seriousness. He means it. “You thought me and Y/N were, are, dating?”

Jacob shrugs helplessly. “Yeah. You two are just kind of…always together.”

“Well. We’re not.” Melissa says sternly.

Jacob nods. “I get that now. I won't just…assume next time?” He hesitantly promises, mustering a smile he hopes will disarm Melissa's demeanor. “For what it's worth, you guys would be good together, though.” He adds, making his way out of the kitchen to put away monopoly still left out on the coffee table.

Melissa stares after Jacob. He's disappeared from sight but her eyes remain on the space he had stood in before. A knee-jerk part of her says it's ridiculous he even thought the two of you were dating. A larger part acknowledges how he could have thought it.

She takes a deep breath, turning back to the sink. She lets the dirty dish water from the sink. She wipes the faucet and edges before wiping down the metal of the sink once the water’s drained. She drapes the dishrag over the metal divider between the two basins.

Her hands brace against the edge of the sink. A dim metal thunk when her palms hit it with small force. “Shit.” She’s falling for you.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x you #revelation

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spacebaby1 · 4 months ago

Text

The cutest request that I enjoyed writing!

It was the hardest thing you had to do, and that is disguising yourself as a performer so that no one will recognise you. However, you were alone this time, none if the straw hat crew members where there; sanji wasn't there promising to protect you, Luffy wasn't there, hell you didn't even know where Luffy was. Being a pirate was fun, but you'd get terrified when you were alone, especially in a new place and of all places; Wano. You tried hard to focus, but it was getting to you and making you more nervous every day. You'd go out some days trying to find a familiar face to at least be at ease. The first few weeks were no help until one day you excused yourself from your "master" to go for an evening walk alone. The town never slept, and it was alive all night long. You kept walking till you were away from the lights and the crowd; a sigh of relief left your lips as you leaned by a huge tree with your hands on your side.

The moment of peace was disturbed when you felt a strong hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump in fear and scream so loud as you fell on the ground. The person that held your shoulder came further to show their bucket hiding face only to be, "Traffa-San!" You jumped from your place on the ground and literally threw your arms around his neck clinging on to him. Not being able to hold your emotions in, you cried, making him tens holding you from falling, "What's wrong? Why are you crying? Did something happen? Did someone do something to hurt you?" He asked, clinching his teeth at the idea of someone trying to even think about hurting you. Law might not have been a fan of the straw hats at first, but out of all of them, you were the only one he kinda liked a bit. Shaking your head, you let your feet touch the ground but still didn't let go of him, "I'm just glad to see a familiar face, I was so scared and alone. Have you heard anything from Luffy?" You asked before letting go, and so did he. "Nothing yet, but I ran into Sanji, and he said he's keeping an eye on you." You sighed, holding back tears, "and he didn't bother to inform me about that? I'm such a horrible member, and I can't even keep it together being alone." Law shook his head, placing an assuring hand on your head, "Don't say that about yourself. You being here shows how much you care to help others. Plus, I'm sure the rest of them are around and will not leave you all alone, and so I'm I. Just stay safe and try not to draw any attention, hum?" You nodded, whipping your tears. He smiled at you, "I'll make sure to stay close by to keep you safe, okay?" You nodded with a smile, "now get going, it's this late. You shouldn't be out all alone. I'll walk you back just in case something happens, and don't forget that we will win this." Before you know it, you were back to your place, and that night, you went to bed comfortably. Because you the next 48 hour were the worst you had lived. The war between kaido and the pirates was in front of everyone, and this was it. You were in the middle of the screaming crowd and people running around when you were pushed on the ground by the crowd.

Before you got crushed by the falling rocks someone yanked you off the ground and away from the danger. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON THE GROUND WHEN THERE ARE MOUNTAINS BREAKING HERE?" Kid Eustass yelled holding you by the wrist. Your eyes widened because you didn't even know he was here, "Eussa-San! Wh-Y-you are bleeding! What-I mean I heard a loud bang but I don't know what's going on.' He looked around for a safe place under the city but everywhere was a disaster, "that's kaido and Luffy for you. Now come on I need to get you somewhere safe and get back to Trafalgar and Luffy." You followed him but forced him to stop and held his face in your hand that were stained of his blood now, "b-but you are bleeding." Luckily for him you couldn't see his flustered cheeks under all the blood but he couldn't risk you being there in the middle of battle when Luffy and Kaido were literally breaking Wano to the grounds. "You're very sweet and adorable but I need to keep you safe now come with me." You couldn't react to his words before he dragged you with him somewhere safe.

"Where did you disappear?" Law yelled at Kid when he showed up to help him take big mama down. "I had to make sure Y/N is safe-"

"YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY GIRL."

"SHUT UP, DON'T CALL HER THAT SHE'S NOT YOURS!." Kid barked at Law.

You did what you were told and it's to keep yourself and the town kids safe and away from the danger but the moment you learned thar Luffy defeated Kaido and all the kids went to find their parents; it was your turn to find your crew mates. Sanji was the first one to find you "Y/n-San! Oh thank God, you're okay, are you hurt?" He gasped at the blood stain on your arm, "ARE YOU BLEEDING? YOU'VE GOT BLOOD ON YOUR HA-" you shook your head, "it's not mine it's-" you stopped mid-sentance and gasped. "Eussa-San! Where is he? H-he was bleeding too much, I need to find them." Sanji nodded, "be careful out there!" You sprinted into the crowd to find Kid but as you walked further you saw Law sitting by a broken house with his head in his arms and breathing heavily, "Traffa-San! Taraff-" you bent in front of him helping him raise his head up slowly; he had a cut on his head and blood on his shirt, "A-Are you in pain? You're hurt! Of course you're in pain, what a stupid question. Let me see where-" He held your shacking hands in his as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath; he was glad that you were safe. "I'm not in pain now that you're here" He says with a smile. "Y/n, there you are, I'm hurt!" Kid called out limping his way towards you. Without thinking you stood up removing you hand form Law's and rushing towards kid helping him sit on a hard broken stairs; he was hurt but not that hurt he just hated seeing Law get all your affection. "The battle drained me, and I think I broke my le-"

"Y/n-ya, I feel faint. Help me, please?" You nodded, rushing towards Law and holding his hand. Kid groaned in pain, holding his leg, and you rushed towards him when he called your name. Law followed by rubbing his hand on his arm, "That blow was painful." You rushed to his side, placing a gentle hand on his so-called hurt arm, "is it too painful?" Before you could get an answer from Law. Kid cried, holding his ear, "I'm bleeding from my ear, ugh." You gasped standing up and rushing towards kid with shaking hands you held the sleeve of your kimono to his ear to stop the bleeding; he wasn't even bleeding but you were too shaken up from the battle and everything that you saw to the point you saw blood everywhere. Law and kid weren't making it easy with their whinging over who deserved your attention. Law clicnhed his teeth and stood up a bit too fast that he saw darkness, his eyes rolling at the back of his head before he almost fell face first of you didn't turn towards him, you rushed to grab him knocking you on your knees but you held him off the ground in your arms. Kid rolled his eyes, "Stop pretending to faint you princes -"

Kid only stopped when he saw you crying, "he's not breathing properly, Traffa-San. Eussa-San! Help me! Traffa-San, wake up." Kid saw the concerned and terrified look on your face as you tried to wake Law, who actually fainted from how much energy and his powers he used. Kid sighed before helping Law from the ground, it wasn't even mid way when you saw the rest of the crew and you yourself passed out luckily Sanji was quick to hold you before you hit the ground.

You woke up to the sound of birds and bright blue sky, you looked around and immediately jumped of the bed because the last thing you remembered was Law passing out. You rushed to find him, you open each room until you found him still asleep on the soft bed, you rushed to check his breathing; he was breathing fine. A sigh of relief left you and you sat beside the bed on the floor carefully held his hand only to find the back of his hand bruised and cuts all over it. You cringed at how painful must it has been to use such powers, "he's gonna be fine. He just needs to sleep." Chopper entered the room with meditation that he sat on the table. You smiled at him, "Thank you chopper." He giggled at you thanking him before leaving, you didn't want to leave Law's side however you needed to check on Kid.

You looked all around for him but found him nowhere, so you decided to look at the rooftop just to be extra sure, and you found him there. His hair was down, and wet looked like he just took a bath dressed in clothes that were absolutely not his style yet more comfortable. Carefully, you made your way beside him; he did have the most gentle face without all that red lipstick and eyeliner, "Eussa-San" you called snapping him out of his thoughts when he looked at you surprised. He blinked twice before gasping and pulling you down to fall on his lap, "what are you doing out here? It's dangerous! You could've fallen!" He held you close and you to gasp when you realised you were sitting on his lap, "ah, your leg! Did I hurt your leg?" You tried to stand but almost fell off the rooftop if it wasn't for him to pull you back on his lap, "Don't stand so fast! You'll fall. Don't worry about my leg, it's better now, I guess." You replied in an oh and looked at his bare face, "but I do worry. You were hurt and bleeding so badly. Are you sure you are okay?" You asked in a low voice. He sighed, not looking at you, and spoke, “Stop doing this to me!” confused you titled your head to side “Huh? Doing what? Eussa-San?" He groaned, annoyed, still holding you protectively, and spoke again “Stop saying sweet things! You're making me all fuzzy inside!” it took you a while to understand what he's saying before your whole face burned red, and your eyes widened, "I-I didn't m-mean to make you uncomfortable, I'm I'm sor-" He cut your stuttering short with a chuckle. "Relax there, I didn't get uncomfortable with your actions. You're all adorable when you blush." Your head fell low, "please don't say that." He chuckled and laughed, "it's okay. Well, at least you have someone who's somewhat enough to keep you safe. If not as strong as I am." You looked at him confused again, "I have?" He nodded, looking at you and then back ahead, "that law guy really does like you after all, and you share his feelings, don't you?" You looked at your hand, shrugged at his question. "If you like him the you have to tell him, Y/n-San at least one of us deserves the happiness" he said it almost as if he was waiting for you to correct him that you chose him and not Law, "I mean not all of us can be strong ones" He joked making you chuckle and carefully release you and held up stand, "now go be by his side before he wakes up and goes back into coma if he saw you here." Kid chuckled before turning his head ahead to look at the sunrise; you felt bad for not sharing his feelings, and you wished you knew about them earlier, but will it change anything? You remembered the first time you saw him and were terrified of him thinking he's one of the bad guys and will easily crush you but instead he helped you and flirted with you just to make you blush, "Don't bite your lips like that you make me wanna bite your lips if not kiss you when you're doing that." He told you then. You stood there beside him and bent down to his level, "Eussa-San? Can I give you a kiss?" He turned his head towards you then smiled and closed his eyes waiting for a kiss on his cheek but you gave him a kiss on his lips; if you can't be his then that's all you can do to thank him for helping you earlier. He's eyes shot open and he didn't even know how to react when you got up and sprinted away leaving him there confused and amazed by your action which eventually made him burst into laughter; at least he got his kiss.

It was time to leave as your crew were packing the ship, and so were Law and Kid's crew mates getting ready to leave. You got up from your place and grabbed kid's hand making him turn around and you hugged him tight, it felt like this is the last time you'll see him and you hated that feeling so you held onto to him a bit longer before you let go, you took off your lucky necklace that you had forever. "Y/n-San-" you placed the necklace in his fist and closed it. You smiled, "it's my lucky necklace, and I want you to keep it. It kept me safe all these years, and it will keep you safe in your journey." You kissed his knuckles, "I'll always care for you, Eussa-San. Please be safe. Okay?" He nodded, kissing your head, "I will, promise. I'll see you again." You smiled with a nod before he left. You turned to find Luffy talking to Law before they said their goodbyes; basically, Law walked away while Luffy still talking to him. He noticed you and walked towards you, "This is it. Can I steal you from the straw hats?" Law said making you chuckle, "you are welcome to, if Luffy doesn't chase you down first." You sighed, wrapping your arms around him, "I'll miss you dearly and so so much. Why do you have to leave so fast? I'll miss you, will I see you again?" He chuckled, holding you tight, "I'll miss you more, I already miss you but I promise to see you again. I will find you again. That's why," you looked up at him only to have your vision blacked out because he placed his hat on your head, "until till then, can you keep this with you for me? And tell it's all your adventures till we meet again?" You gasped holding his hat that was on your head, "But it's your hat and it probably has meaningful place in your-" He smiled cupping you face, "that's why I want you to keep it, it's so dear to me and I want you to keep it safe for me, will you do that?" You nodded with tears in your eyes, and he chuckled, hugging you, "Hush, don't cry. You'll see me again, I promise." You hugged him tight, "Okay, Traffa-San." He chuckled, "that's my girl."

#one peice #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #law trafalgar #trafalgar one piece #kid eustass x reader #kid eustass #trafalgar law x reader #one piece law #trafalgar law #law trafalgar x you #law trafalgar x y/n

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skellymom · 9 months ago

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"I'M YOUR MAN"

Hunter x Jedi Fem Reader Supporting Character. SMUTTY++

Background: This one shot starts out very similar to my "Hunt and Peck" one shot. However, it's not just a Force Sensitive, but an actual Jedi. And, his Batchmates aren't in on the shenanigans. This is the VERY dirty version of "Hunt and Peck" but Hunter goes "solo".

I wanted to write a smutty fic from INSIDE Hunter's head space. We hardly ever really know what's going on in there. Well, now you do!

Word Count: 2.1K

WARNING: Male masturbation, oral sex, genital sex, spit kink, swearing kink, dirty word kink, praise kink, names of various sexual positions, bodily fluids, lots of dirty nasty sexy stuff. Lots of it. Very LEMONY content!

The Batch finished up their latest mission, picking up a new passenger along the way. Y/N was a Jedi hitching a ride to a planet they would be passing on the way to Kamino. She would only be staying a few standard days on the Marauder, and the crew made sure she had a comfortable stay.

Within two days Hunter was smitten. He usually kept his infatuations to himself as best he could...ESPECIALLY with female Jedi. But...well, this one was different...and difficult to ignore. Of course, he still engaged with her politely and respectfully. Being a Sergeant and host on this transport, he kept some distance.

Y/N was attractive. Not conventionally, as he wouldn’t consider himself attracted to just ANY pretty face. But she had that...thing. An essence? Something that just took him out at the knees. It was elusive...

...and she smelled SO GOOD. Hell, even when she was sweaty, dirty, just got woke up in the morning...heady scent of her body odor with the slightest tang of her sex...

Hunter shifted in the pilot’s seat. His armor codpiece felt tight. Dammit, he NEEDED to stop getting distracted. He was supposed to be sitting watch on the ship.

Technically Echo was to stand this shift. However, he was under the weather and now lying down like the rest of his brothers.

Hunter could hear Crosshair breathing, Echo’s ticking mechanical heart, and smell Tech’s drool...as he slept face down with mouth open. Wreckers' snores were like a power tool, until his sleep apnea kicked in. Hunter would count the seconds unconsciously holding his own breath too...until Wrecker finally inhaled.

Hunter inhaled deeply just thinking about it...

...until Y/N sighed in her sleep. The sound brought his attention back to the heat and tightness in his groin. Hunter’s cock was now becoming painful with an intense pressure against his codpiece.

Oh STARS! How did the other Clones deal with this??? Commander Bly following Aayla Secura around while she exposed all that beautiful blue skin. Or Deepa Billoba with her pretty braids and deep scarlet lips...

...then there was his first crush: Shaak Ti. A tall stunning Togruta with her long montrals and head tails.

DANK FERRICK! Y/N did look at him a lot and smiled. He could sense her body reacting to him MUCH differently than his brothers. The thrumming of her presence on his senses. Something he guessed was her Force sensitivity. It would tickle his nerve endings and make him shiver...in a VERY good way. Was Y/N flirting with the Force? Hunter wasn’t exactly sure. Was that even ALLOWED?

Hunter ripped the codpiece off and tossed it onto the Marauder’s dash. His girthy engorged cock staining through his blacks...and leaving a wet spot.

These Jedi women are going to be the death of me!

Who was he kidding...WOMEN drove him crazy!!!

The last thing Hunter wanted was to cause any trouble...especially with a Jedi.

He had to take care of this situation...and put IT to “rest” ...NOW.

Walking back to the refresher wasn’t an option. He didn’t want to wake anyone, and he was supposed to be on watch.

Listening again, Hunter could perceive everyone was asleep and accounted for. He slid down comfortably in the pilot’s chair. Noting that Tech left one of his hand rags for mechanical maintenance hanging up in the cockpit, Hunter grabbed it for clean up later.

Looking around and listening one last time, Hunter gently rolled down his blacks and released his cock. Its meaty girthiness sprung up at attention. Uncut and big enough to satisfy, but not so large as to be painful. Poor Wrecker...Hunter thought fleetingly. So big he must hold back constantly to not injure. Gotta be stressful. People would give Hunter shit for being the smallest of the group. Heh, average ain’t bad. Especially since he exceeded at technique.

What was the saying on Kamino? Yeah...It’s not the size of the ship, but the motion of the ocean.

The head of his penis peeked out from the uncut foreskin. Hunter smoothed his thumb through the large drop of precum and rubbed gentle circles on the top of his cock. He shivered from the sensation but held back a gentle moan. He needed to be extra quiet. Keeping his mouth shut, Hunter also regulated his breathing.

Next, he cupped his cock in hand and gently but firmly pulled back his foreskin. Then he gave his shaft a few good pumps.

... A very feminine scent wafted from the pallet Y/N was sleeping on the bunk room floor. She must have been having a hell of a dream...as Hunter could smell her wet arousal. To her credit, she was extremely quiet.

The smell drove him crazy. More precum leaked from his cock.

Hunter closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to bury his face in Y/N’s pussy. He inhaled her scent and pictured himself licking and sucking her clit. How she would look from that point of view. Staring up over her mons pubis to see her writhe and sweat. Hair messed, face and chest flushed as he teased her to orgasm over and over again. Screaming his name, asking for more.

FUCK, he LOVED EATING PUSSY! LOVED watching his lovers lose themselves in ecstasy. Loved when they praised his talent for the job.

And, if they wanted to be fingered while he dined, he happily obliged. Gently of course...unless she insisted on it being rough. He followed directions very well and kept the channels of communication open. How many fingers? How’s that feel? You like how I’m fingering you? Tell me. I wanna hear you tell me. Yeah...whatever you want. I’m your man. Mmmm...You’re so FUCKING beautiful!

Pumping his cock, occasionally coming up to rub the leaking precum across his head and frenulum with his thumb. The mental image fueling his desire and the tingling of his penis.

Hunter also LOVED breasts. Big, small, he serviced them all. Lick them, kiss, twist, cup. But, he wasn’t in a hurry. No, Hunter wanted to appreciate the other parts of his lover's body and work his way there.

Nibbling Y/N’s thighs, tender kisses on her stomach. Women worry too much about their bellies. Who the fuck made them feel so insecure? Hunter wasn’t gonna get mad. He didn’t have time for that. Bring that belly here and let me worship it. The asshole that made you feel bad about that part of your body isn’t here...I AM. Look me right in the eyes. Yeah, hold that eye contact. Listen to me. I’m gonna make your body SING tonight. I wanna make you feel desirable...’cause you are. Now, grab my hair if you feel ya gotta hold on tight!

Pumped his wet cock a bit more...

AND ASSES! All sizes. Firm and jiggly...flat and flabby...

Fuck the guy who told you your ass wasn’t pretty. Probably the same dipshit who razzed you about your other body parts.

I’m here to tell ya: Your body parts make my cock wanna give you a standing ovation. I’ll happily kiss ANYTHING on your body, if it’ll get you off. Even the stuff you might be worried is too nasty and dirty. I’ll be as clean as you request or dirty as ya care to ask for.

Hunter needed to stay on track. All the blood was rushing to his lower extremities, making him a bit punch drunk. His eyes were half closed with horniness.

And he needed a bit more lubrication. Hunter leaned over his swollen member and spit on it delicately. The extra slide felt amazing.

Oh yeah...Hunter was getting ahead of himself. In his mind Y/N requested he kiss and suckle her breasts. In his mind, she moaned and raked at his back. Mmmmhmm...I wanna hear you. Tell me how much you like this. He moved up to lavish her neck with kisses, grinding his slippery member through her sex. The sound was loud and wet. Smells sooo good. Whispering in her ear, pressing his nose against her cheek You feel so good! FUCK...Hunter shivered, his cock twitching with anticipation.

Are you ready for me? Yeah? Gonna take my time, okay? I’m in no hurry...unless you WANT me to fuck you hard and put you away wet? I aim to please. So swollen and hard right now...could grab you around the legs, hoist ya up, and nail ya silly. Missionary? Doggie style? Cowgirl? Reverse Cowgirl? Vertical or Horizonal, I’m strong enough to get ya there.

No? Ok. Just give me the word. And I’ll take it nice...and easy.

Hunter slowed down the momentum on his cock. Stroking gently to prolong his arousal and not cum too soon.

What about me, you say? Heh...REALLY enjoying my time with you. I’m a man of variety. Whatever you want, I’m along for...ahem...the ride. However long it takes.

You wanna suck my cock? Well...chuckles...I won’t say NO to a good blow. Just ask you tease me a bit. He imagined the wet softness of Y/N’s mouth on his member. Swirling her tongue over his head, shaft...

...her hand firmly gripping his balls and he gripped them now...

...pumping his cock...gathering momentum.

Wanna blow my seed in your cunt, while I’m holding you. Full body skin on skin contact while I’m inside you. My uncut foreskin rubbing your pink jellybean clit while my cock caresses your G-spot. Bonus if I get to taste your mouth while you moan into mine.

Hunter lifted his pelvis off the seat, bracing his legs and abdomen...adding pressure to his core and the root of his sex. He slid his cock back and forth through his wet hand, gritting his teeth, and sweating.

I’ll do EVERYTHING in my power to take you over the edge ONE more time before I do. I got the stamina to fuck, suck, and caress you all night if it’s what you request of me. Over and over again.

I’m YOUR MAN.

As Hunter came, a very sudden and explosive scream erupted from the bunk room!

Hunter let go of his scrotum and slapped a hand over his mouth to hold back his violent moans. An intense, warm orgasm shot through his body. Hunter came SO HARD it hit the ceiling of the Marauder’s cockpit with an audible THUMP! A climax so sudden and strong, he shook and was unable to stand.

The bunk room erupted in chaos. Wrecker had fallen off the top bunk from sheer terror. Tech started awake and flung his datapad across the room...hitting Crosshair in the head. Only Echo remained unscathed as he slipped unaided by his prosthetics from the bottom bunk to the Jedi’s pallet on the floor.

He put his one intact arm around the Jedi. “Ma’am, are you ok?”

She, sweating, flushed, and breathing heavily, “Oh...” stammered, “A dream.”

“Sounded like a NIGHTMARE!” Wrecker recovered from his fall.

The Jedi laughed nervously.

Tech finally found his goggles amongst the bedcovers, slapped them on, and ran to the refresher. “I’ll retrieve a glass of water for our guest.”

Crosshair rubbed the goose egg developing on his forehead. “Bring a bacta patch while you’re in there too!”

“Where the HELL is HUNTER???” Echo thundered.

On command Hunter slid into the bunk room. “What happened? Must have fallen asleep on watch!”

Echo turned to Hunter “Our Guest gave us quite a scare.” He looked puzzled as Hunter NEVER fell asleep on watch. “Due to a dream.”

Tech ran in and handed the Jedi a full canteen of water and a small towelette for her sweaty brow.

“Thank you, Tech.” She dabbed herself and sipped from the canteen...purposely keeping her eyes averted from the Sergeant.

“Bacta patch?” Crosshair growled at Tech.

“I ONLY have two hands, Crosshair!” Tech sassed his way back to the refresher.

“Looking a little FLUSHED too, Hunter. Sure you’re FEELING well? Crosshair sneered.

Hunter was just about to tell Crosshair to shut his pie hole when the Jedi interrupted. “I... think I’m ready to go back to sleep.”

“Alright.” Echo got back into his bunk. “You need ANYTHING, we’re right here.”

“I’m feeling better now.” She sighed. "Thank you Echo."

Wrecker leaned down and handed Lula to Y/N. “Lula will help you sleep the rest of the night.”

“Thank you, Wrecker.”

Crosshair sneered at Hunter who turned to go back to his watch station.

Tech unpeeled the bacta patch and slapped it over Crosshair’s pie hole, then turned out the lights.

Next morning the Marauder landed at the Jedi’s destination. She thanked The Batch and descended the gangplank. Sergeant Hunter was the last to say goodbye and salute her.

“I must thank you, btw.” She blushed demurely and smiled.

Hunter looked confused and glanced to see where his Batchmates were at. They had already retreated into the ship, preparing to leave the planet.

“Uh...for what?”

“For being...MY MAN... last night.”

Hunter blushed crimson red... speechless but had SO MANY questions.

“I know what you’re thinking Sergeant. Jedi CAN have...relations. They just can’t be possessive attachments. And... technically we never physically touched...”

She winked and walked away towards her destination.

And that was how Hunter was literally mind-fucked by a Jedi.

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one-idea · 9 months ago

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Shanks raise ASL part 6

First - Previous - Next

So Ace squares his shoulders and raises his head to meet Shanks’ eyes. And he asks only one question. “What would you do if you found out Gol D. Roger’s had a son?”

The little boy braces himself. He’s ready, or so he thinks. He’s ready for this man to hate him. To tell him that his father was the devil and that his offspring are demons. That Ace shouldn’t exist. Maybe he’d kill Ace right where he stands. Tell Luffy and Sabo that Ace ran away for good and just continue on with life without the burden that is Ace.

What he doesn’t expect is for Shanks to walk towards him silently. The man’s eyes looking intently at his face, studying his features, looking for… something? Ace had no idea what. Did he think he was lying? Was he looking for proof? But then Shanks eyes welled up with tears and he dropped to his knees in front of Ace, throwing his arms around the boy and holding him close.

Ace has never been so confused. He expected to be shun or hit. Instead he was held like he was something precious. One of Shanks’ arms was firmly wrapped around his waist while the other hand was buried into his hair forcing Ace close to the man as he cried into Ace’s hair.

He could feel Shanks’ shaky breath as the man calmed down. “What would I do if I found out that Gol D. Roger’s had a son?” Shanks voice was gentle yet despite that Ace still tensed. He had no idea how Shanks was going to respond. Most adults mocked or hit him by now but Shanks was still holding him so tightly.

Shanks slowly pulled back just enough to look Ace in the eyes as he answers “I’d find him and protect him with my life just as his father protected me.”

“What?” Ace couldn’t understand. What did Shanks mean. Gol D. Rogers had never protected anyone.

Shanks could see the disbelief on the kid’s face. Which made sense. He had to wonder just how much Ace truly knew about his father. “Gol D. Roger’s found me in a treasure chest when I was a baby. He took me in and raised me as his own. I owe him everything.” Shanks said as he look Ace over again. Now that he was looking for it he could see Roger’s silver eyes. The dark hair was the same color as his captain’s, but the wavy texture was all Rouge, as were the constellation of freckles on the young boy’s cheeks.

“No that- you can’t be-” Ace didn’t know what to say. The man Shanks was describing, and the person that Shanks was were not compatible with his understand of who Roger and his crew were. “You can’t be a Roger’s pirate. They were monsters!” He couldn’t make his metal image of Roger and his crew and his memories of Shanks playing with his brothers and protecting them line up in his mind. There was no way this man who was so kind and doting to his brothers could be one of the bloodthirsty Roger pirates. He just couldn’t be.

“Now who told you that?” Shanks’ heart hurt to hear his captain’s son refer to their old family as monsters.

“Everyone. Everyone says that Roger was the devil and I’m his hell spawn.” Ace told him angrily. How did Shanks not get it. Ace was a monster and so was Roger. “I shouldn’t even be alive.”

Shanks pulled him close again, curling around the boy, shielding him from the world as best he could. Who did this? Who told his captain’s son all of these lies? Who told Ace he shouldn’t exist? Shanks was going to rip them apart for this. Ace should have been raised in the Oro Jackson surrounded by a loving crew that would protect him until death took them. But that wasn’t possible. He remembered why his captain handed himself over. Did Ace know about that?

“Your father was one of the greatest men I have ever known.” Ace started to argue but Shanks gently shushed him. “Let me finish. He was brave and kind and brought joy to those around him. And he fell in love with a wonderful woman, Portagas D. Rouge. But he was sick. He knew he didn’t have long. And when he found out your mom was pregnant he made a decision. He turned himself in to the marines.”

Ace’s heart was pounding in his chest. “What, what do you mean. He didn’t turn himself in he was caught by Gramps.” Shanks had to pause and breath through his rage at that one. Garp had been ‘raising’ Ace? That answered a few questions, but not all of them. After all Roger considered Garp a friend, but Shanks had disliked the man since he stood by and ordered Roger’s execution.

“He turned himself in to Garp, but he made him promise two things. One that the marines wouldn’t hunt down the rest of his crew after his executions, and two that you and your mom would be safe.” Shanks held the boy a little tighter. His captain gave up everything, and for what? If Roger’s could see them now would he think his sacrifice worth it?

“But why- how- I don’t understand.” Ace couldn’t wrap his head around what Shanks was telling him. Roger’s had been caught and executed for his crimes. What was this nonsense about noble sacrifices?

Shanks couldn’t blame the kid for not understanding it. He hadn’t understood his captain’s actions for a long time. But now as a captain himself, as someone who has a lover he would burn the world for, and as a freshly minted father of three, because these are HIS boys, he thinks he’s finally starting to get it. He would do anything to keep his crew, Mihawk, and the boys safe. Parting with his own life would be a small price to pay to guarantee their safety. But Shanks also knew the rest of his captain’s story.

“The marines lied kid.” He said with so much bitterness. “They lied to Roger. Promised they wouldn’t hunt down the crew and the people he cared for.” He let out a dark chuckle. “His body wasn’t even cold before they turned on us. Chased the crew all over the sea. Luckily we all disbanded before his execution or they would have got us all in one fell swoop. I was 15 and they chased me like rabid dogs. At the time I knew Rouge, your mom, was pregnant, but I had hoped that information was a secret. Apparently not as they launched a full hunt for you and your mom.” Shanks paused.

He was still furious he hadn’t been able to help Rouge at the time but none of them could have. He wasn’t lying about the marine pursuit being relentless for the first few years after Roger’s execution. It was a miracle that so many of them survived. But the price that he lost contact with his old family. He hadn’t talked to Buggy since Lougetown. He had run into Rayleigh a few years back and had sobbed like a child at seeing his second father again.

“I didn’t hear about the man hunt for the two of you until years later. By then I had to assume you both were dead.” Shanks tightened his arms around the silent boy. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

Ace sat there is silence processing the new news. His father had died….for him? That couldn’t be right. Roger was the King of the Pirates he was selfish, he wouldn’t sacrifice so much for them.

“Your mom, do you know what happened to her?” Shanks felt awful asking, he had a feeling he already knew the answer, but he had to know. If Rouge was alive she was coming with them. No if ands or buts about it.

His hope didn’t live long. “She died giving birth to me.” Ace’s voice was hallow. He was still processing all of this news. His mom’s death was a fact. He killed her. The very first sin of his existence.

Shanks sighed and held Ace close. “She loved you so much. I’m sorry you didn’t get to met her.” They sat there in silence for a bit. Just taking in all that they had learned in the past few minutes.

“I don’t understand.” Ace finally said. “Everyone says that Roger was a monster, but the way you talk about him….” Ace just couldn’t wrap his head around everything he had just learned. Shanks thought for a second. He had an idea but Ace wasn’t going to like it.

“Do you think Luffy could ever be a monster?” Ace’s head shot back and he shoved himself a way from Shanks.

“Never! What are you talking about. Luffy is the kindest person I know. He could never be-”

“King of the Pirates?” Shanks finished Ace’s sentence, but not the way Ace would have. The boy was going to say monster, but Shanks’ interjection froze the boy in his tracks. “I believe that Luffy is going to be the next King of the Pirates. And with that, there is going to come a lot of lies from the government. They’re going to tell the world that Luffy is a monster. That he deserves to die. So I’m asking you, will you believe them when they say that about Luffy?” Shanks looked Ace dead in the eyes. Never wavering in his question.

“Never. Luffy just wants to be free.” Ace responds unshakable in his beliefs.

“So did Roger.” Ace froze again. He hated comparing his father to his little brother, but he also finally understood what Shanks was getting at. “Look you don’t have to like your dad, but you should know the truth about him. And the truth was he adore you. Enough to die for you without a second thought.”

Shanks sighed as he stood up. This was good. He’s overjoyed to know who Ace is and that he’s alive, but he’s also full of fury and wants to hunt Garp down, because what was that man thinking? Letting Ace believe all of the government’s propaganda. He’s exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster he’s been on tonight and he can see that Ace is to. But there’s one more thing they need to talk about before he can end this conversation.

“And I would to.” Ace jerks to met Shanks’ eyes. “I would die for you and your brothers in a heart beat. Not because you’re my captain’s son. But because I’ve come to see you as mine. I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted all three of you on my crew. You’re my kids. I would fight the world for you, the government and anyone else who tried to hurt you. Because you are Ace and I love you.” Shanks never broke eye contact with the boy. “Not because of who your dad is and not despite of who your dad is, but because of who you are.”

Ace felt tears well up in his eyes as he rushed towards Shanks. The man bending down to scoop the boy up and hold him close as he cried into his shoulder. Someone wanted him. Someone wanted Ace around. Shanks knew who his father was and didn’t hate him. He loved him, he said he did. Has anyone besides Luffy and Sabo ever said that to Ace before.

“I got you. It’s okay. You’re never going to be alone again.” Shanks reassured the boy as he held him close. “One day when you’re ready to set out on your own you’ll have my full support but until that day comes I’ve got you.” Shanks promised as he started to make his way out of the little shack. “Even after that you’ll still have me. I’ll always have your back, until the day I die. If you and your brothers need me I’ll be there. I swear this to you.” Shanks looked up at the moon as he started making his way back Foosha village. Back to Mihawk, Luffy, and Sabo. Back the the Red Force and his crew. And he made one more promise.

‘I’ll keep your boy safe Captain. I’ll raise him as my own, give him all the love you gave me. I won’t fail him. I couldn’t protect you but I’ll protect him with my life. I promise.”

Finally the bonding moment the two of them need.

Next time:

The return of a mountain bandit.

Shanks promise gets put to the test.

#the fact that Ace hates his father but adores Luffy when they share the same dream is one of my Roman Empires.#it needs to be talked about more.#shanks is such a dad #shanks is luffy’s dad okay.#monkey d. luffy #portagas d. ace #revolutionary sabo #shanks #asl brothers #asl trio #mishanks #dracule mihawk #I’ve been going mental over the parallels between Luffy and Roger and hiw Shanks sees them vs Ace and now you get to to.

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