#but thank you for the asks!! really had to think and consider the coin one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starsofang · 13 days

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CALL OF THE SEA / PART TEN

pirate poly!141 x reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, brief mentions of death/blood, gaz being a little shit, foreshadowing idk but we gettin into it masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

“You need new clothes.”

You glanced down at the loose fabrics swallowing your body.

You’d grown a routine of wearing various pieces of the men’s clothing apart from Ghost, given that your own clothes weren’t much to wear at all. They were old and dirtied, practically useless against the changing seasons of the chill that began to shift in the wind.

“We’ve got to stop on the Mainland, gather a few things for travels,” Gaz continued, eyeing the lousy clothes. “Would you like to shop for somethin’ new?”

“Really?” you asked bashfully.

It would be nice to have something of your own, something that was yours. While you weren’t doused in riches and gold back in your village, you had clothing that was to your own comfort and liking.

Men’s clothing was itchier than you liked, even with finer cotton.

“‘Course,” he assured with a warm smile. “Not that it’s not a bit humorous seein’ you wear our clothes for the time bein’, but I’m gettin’ sick of washin’ double the clothes.”

You smiled back at him, feeling a comforting warm burn through you. Gaz may have had his reservations in the beginning, but he was certainly becoming the most welcoming.

At the start, you thought he was cold, just as the rest of them. He was crude with the way he spoke, voice full of venom whenever he’d spoken to you, which was rare. Now, there was an underlying comfort, as if he felt the need to watch over you.

It wasn’t unwelcome, and was rather preferred. If you were going to be willed into this life of deadly chaos by no choice but Price’s own, then having somebody watching your back was certainly something you wouldn’t refuse.

“Clothes would be nice,” you sighed. “Thank you, Gaz.”

“No need,” he dismissed with a hand. “Consider it a loan. I get you new clothes, you owe me next time.”

“Next time?” You deflated, shoulders dropping. “I have no money to return to you, Gaz. Nor anything of consistency.”

Gaz laughed lightly, a hearty laugh that you always found contagious. It was full of life, lovely even.

The brief memory of him mentioning being a prince in his previous years always seemed to make its way back into your mind when you heard it. It wasn’t loud or boisterous like Soap’s, nor quiet and gruff like Price’s. There was a something more proper, more articulated when he laughed.

“You expect clothes for free, dove?” he teased. “I may be a gentleman in practice, but I’m still a pirate. Perhaps we can come up with a negotiation.”

“I have never been good with those,” you confessed with a heavy sigh.

“Mm. Let me think, then.” Gaz’s finger tapped mindlessly at his bottom lip, eyes narrowed in false concentration. As if a light bulb popped in his head, he snapped his fingers, pointing at you. “I will gift you coins for clothes as well as a few for our agreement. Once we’re on the Mainland, you go off and find me somethin’ I’ll like. If I don’t like it, then you must owe me for the clothes.”

You gawked at him, eyebrows furrowing. Gaz only smiled at you cheekily, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“That sounds less like a negotiation and more of a game that I am bound to lose,” you said flatly. He snickered.

“C’mon, birdie. Don’t you like games? Everyone does.” He leaned in close as if to mock you, hunching down to your level. You could feel his warm breath fan over your nose and cheeks.

The sudden proximity made you tighten up at the abruptness, taking a step back. His eyes flickered to your feet before back up at you. Something mischievous oozed from him, and it felt like Soap was the one teasing you rather than Gaz.

Why were you so flustered? Was it due to the absence of light-hearted mockery that you’ve now forgotten what it felt like?

“Okay, okay. I will find you the most brilliant gift on the Mainland,” you bragged, attempting to come off aloof.

Gaz’s smile grew, though he didn’t step away from you. “Excellent.”

You watched as he finally moved, straightening up. He radiated a boyishness, one you didn’t see often, so you allowed him the advantage. The two of you were growing friends, or at least that’s how it felt. You didn’t want to lose that feeling.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Price ordered his men. He said it with such warning, as if you weren’t standing amongst them.

It made sense, though you felt like a child with a leash on. After all, the last time you joined them on the Mainland, you ended up in a heated game of hide and seek with the soldiers you so stupidly entrusted.

Ghost stood silent, eyes peering over the side of the ship and to the faint view of the bustling town sitting several hundred yards away. He seemed on edge, more than he normally was, but you could only tell so much from his stiff body language.

You followed his view, squinting. The Captain decided it was best to dock the ship on a farther pier, away from the crowd. Out of sight, out of mind. Nobody would notice them unless they went searching.

“Aye, Cap,” Soap and Gaz synchronized.

Price glanced at Ghost, who shifted his focus off of the land and to his Captain. He gave him a curt nod, and seeing that Price was satisfied, the five of you began to head off.

Ghost was in charge of you this time, much to your dismay. It was evident Price was still weary of you running off, and it seemed Ghost was his most trusted candidate for the job.

The walk towards the busy town was quiet apart from Soap and Gaz speaking quietly behind you. You tried to listen in, but it seemed Soap had a keen sixth sense because before you knew it, his hands cupped over your ears, shielding you from the chatter.

You could very faintly hear Gaz snickering, so you frowned to yourself, disappointed.

You always wondered what they all spoke about when you weren’t around. It always felt like there was this lingering whisper in the air that spoke a language you didn’t understand.

The maps, the poem, none of it made sense to you and nobody was offering answers. Even when you tried to shush it in your mind as it played on replay, it never quite left. It was always in the corner, waiting to return once things got too quiet.

Glancing at Ghost from beside you, he gave no indication of… anything, really. Even after all this time, he was still an impossible read. He stood tall as always, walked with an edge to him, and kept his eyes forward.

You’d never met somebody so confusing yet utterly frustrating at the same time. One moment, he gave you hopes of a bright future on the ship—getting along, finding solitude in one another, empathizing understanding.

Yet as quickly as those feelings would come, they’d be squashed with a mere glare. A burning fire. Something reserved.

You didn’t think he understood himself, either.

When you came to the bounds of the town, Price stopped you. He glanced up at the sky, eyes squinting at the brightness on his retinas, before looking back.

The sun blared down on you from directly above.

“Return here when the sun falls to the west. If anythin’ happens, and I mean anythin’,” he paused, meeting your eyes before shifting back to his men, “then you run back to the ship and signal the bell. Am I understood?”

You really hoped Ghost was good with directions, or at least had a compass. You weren’t sure how to read the time through the sun’s positions. It was never a necessity before when you knew that it was nighttime when the moon came out to play.

You looked back at the ship that was now in the distance. It floated mindlessly along the lapping waves, bobbing back and forth as if saying hello.

The men confirmed with Price. Just as you were about to join them as they trudged on forward, Price stopped you with an arm held out, blocking you from walking.

“You aren’t goin’ to run off on me again, are you?” he asked quietly, though there was that familiar touch of authority to his tone. It wasn’t malicious, but you knew the implications—he wanted to trust you.

“No, sir,” you assured with a shake of your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you dared to look at Ghost, who was impatiently waiting if the tapping of his fingers on his crossed arms meant anything. “I won’t do such a thing.”

The Captain kept his arm up for a moment so he could look at you. His eyes searched yours, so much so it made you flustered.

“Good.” He nodded. “Go along, then.”

He dropped his arm, letting it fall to his side. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he simply cleared his throat and gave you a farewell with a nod.

You watched him leave, disappearing into the swarm of shopping townsfolk. Curiosity festered you like a tick, itching into your skin, but you knew it was best to leave it be for now.

“You comin’?”

Ghost snapped you out of your spell. You quickly came back to reality, offering a quick nod before jogging to catch up to him, sticking to him like glue as you entered the town.

It was loud and overwhelming as you followed Ghost around. He made haste with purchases which ranged from stock for food to new knives that glinted tauntingly at you in the light, all of which were shoved into the bag thrown on his shoulders.

You knew people were staring. Even if they were directed towards Ghost and his eccentric appearance, it felt like they were watching you for even being associated with him.

The whispers between women about it being scandalous, the chatter between men who felt imposing threat from Ghost merely standing there.

You didn’t know why, but a part of you felt more defensive than humiliated. Your image was one mocked for the entirety of your lifespan, but Ghost had done nothing to warrant it. Not to them, anyway. To you was a different story.

None of that mattered now, though. You were growing increasingly irritated at being looked upon like a circus act.

“Ignore it,” Ghost muttered. You almost didn’t quite catch it. “I can feel you gettin’ huffy.”

You scowled, crossing your arms and turning your head. Ghost paid you no mind, continuing to browse in the small shop you were in.

“I am not huffy,” you mumbled.

Ghost paused, turning his head towards you. He stared, eyes flickering over your face—first to your furrowed eyebrows, then to your narrowed eyes, then down to your lips tugged into a frown.

He snorted quietly through his nose, returning to his browsing.

The sound made you turn your head. Dare you say it sounded amused, though it could be your ears deceiving you.

You decided to ignore it. The last thing you wanted was to bring it up and have him reserve back to permanently scowling.

Ghost straightened up from the various knives he was looking at, uninterested. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder.

“Need anythin’?” he asked, sniffing.

You perked up, hand coming to rest on the small pouch resting on your hip. It contained the coins Gsz gifted you for clothing, as well as the surprise gift he requested of you.

Nothing came to mind on what to get him. You were clueless, and really didn’t want to owe him.

“Gaz was generous enough to give me coins to buy my own clothes,” you explained, shaking the pouch. Coins within the bag clanked together.

Ghost glanced down at the pouch. “I see,” he hummed, a touch of confusion in his words. Almost as if he was surprised.

He gestured with his head to follow him. The two of you left the quaint shop, stepping back out on to the dusty road. Ghost didn’t move from the entrance, and when you looked up at him, he was already looking at you.

A silent question. He was allowing you to make the choice on where to go.

Looking around, you realized you knew close to nothing about shopping for clothes. Not of these kind, anyway. You were used to the muted, colorless fabrics that never seemed to fit quite right.

You decided on a shop that displayed a variety of different clothes and colors in the windows. Some looked too delectable for your taste, and much too expensive, while some were more simple.

Stepping inside, the sight was positively overwhelming. Colors of all kinds lined the walls. Stuffed mannequins were pinned together with dresses.

Ghost seemed severely uncomfortable. You were elated. A taste of your own self was hidden somewhere within these walls, and you were going to find it.

“Go ahead,” Ghost gruffed from beside you. He shifted on his feet, eyes averting to nowhere. “Not my thing.”

You hummed in response, leaving to browse on your own accord. If Ghost didn’t seem to mind, then you wouldn’t rush yourself.

You took your time. You went through everything you can think of—greens, blues, purples, reds. None seem to fit you. Or more so, you wouldn’t fit with them.

Neutrals were their friends. Browns, grays, anything above the stars. So, naturally, that’s what you went for. Something to fit in and not stand out. You were facing that enough as is.

Once you focused your preference, you found quite a few options and went with what felt best.

Ghost watched you with muted curiosity as you fluttered around the store with a heap of clothes in your arms. He only looked away once he was caught.

As you were about to call your search a success, a glint of gold in the corner of your eye caught your attention. A beautiful miniature telescope sat locked away in a glass case, made from dark wood and detailed with an exquisite gold design.

The sight of it instantly reeled you in.

It was the perfect gift for Gaz. You came to learn that he had a love for the moon and stars, often leaving the room late at night to ponder beneath them. You knew you wouldn’t lose your game if you got it for him.

The only issue was that the price was hefty.

You looked down at your strew of clothes, contemplating. The coins in your pouch would be enough for your clothes, but not for the telescope as well.

The telescope called out to you, like a secret siren’s song pulling you into captivity. It chose you, and you chose it back.

Ultimately, you graciously returned some of the fabrics back to their original areas, leaving them tidy and neat. You approached Ghost with nothing more than a few clothings items, enough to get you by.

You were never materialistic anyway.

Ghost stood, silently observing but feigning disinterest as you made the big purchase for your clothes, then requested the telescope. He made no comment, eyes following your every move as you emptied the contents of your pouch, the coins clanking along the counter.

The merchant was happy to sell it to you, claiming that nobody seemed interested. You were pleased to hear that, and with a quick and easy exchange, the clothes and telescope were yours, placed carefully into Ghost’s bag.

“Is that it, then?” Ghost huffed, shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder.

You nodded, satisfied with your purchases as you set off along the old roads to return to the rest of the crew.

As you walked, your eyes ventured along the way, taking in the varying crowds. Some mothers, some fathers, some alone on their own journeys. None paid you any mind.

Until one did.

A man. Not as tall as your crew, but certainly as threatening. His entire aura would be misty black if it was visible to the naked eye. His hair was a cropped mess on his head, brown like the dirt beneath your shoes.

His skin was scarred and tainted, dark eyes piercing into you. Even from a distance, you feared you’d combust into a bloodied, explosive mess just from the sheer look he gave you.

The worst was his smile. Cocky. Arrogant. Evil.

If death were a man, this would be its vessel.

His lips were moving, though you couldn’t hear him. He was too far away. It wasn’t until the wind bristled, rising goosebumps along your skin did you hear it. His voice traveled along the breeze until it whisked to your ears, flooding through.

“I’ll be seeing you, dove.”

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fatescaprice · 7 months

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hiiiii ☀️ can i ask for something about aventurine and the reader who is part of the express family (not trailblazer) ? it can be some love at first sight thing, or maybe where they meet again in penacony and turns out they both had some hidden past with eachother b4🤭 of course, you can choose whatever storyline to go with as well with this reader🤍 thank uuuu

aventurine and a nameless reader

content warnings: vague penacony spoilers

note: hello anon!! i went with the second option since i just looove reunions ... i had a lot of fun writing this but i also had to google how a lottery works ... i'm embarrassed ... i hope you enjoy!

You and AVENTURINE had met ages before he became a bigshot at the IPC, back when he was doing Aeons-know-what to scrape by. Whether you were friends or rivals or had to use every fibre in your body to keep yourself from insulting him on sight, you eventually parted ways and both, quite reasonably, assumed that you would never see each other again — the universe was far too big for that, after all. He saw you off as you boarded the Astral Express, and resigned himself to thinking that your meeting was little more than a lucky draw.

That is, of course, until you run into each other by chance in the lobby of the Reverie. He doesn’t pay you much attention at first, but his eyes end up wandering to you almost against his will as he sorts out your grey friend’s room issue. When did you change your hair? Did your voice always have that kind of cadence? His customer-service smile turns a tad more genuine as he turns to you once it’s over and your friends had dispersed within the lobby. “What a pleasant surprise,” he drawls. “Long time no see, huh?”

Aventurine offers to catch up over drinks, if you’re so inclined. Time is money, but that’s how you normally celebrate making new friends and reuniting with old ones, isn’t it? He’ll treat you to whatever you like while you tell him about your travels.

Even after he gets his own business sorted, he can’t help but notice how you two seem to keep running into each other, as if by little twists of fate. Your room across from his, the sound of you laughing with your pink-haired friend in the lobby, the sight of your back as you wander around the Golden Hour.

If fate keeps bringing you together, Aventurine would be a fool to not capitalise on it, wouldn’t he? He’s quick to slink over to your side and suggest a wager: “You look lonely,” he’ll say, rolling a coin back and forth over his knuckles. “Say, if I win big at the lottery over there, how about we spend the rest of the day together? We can even call it a date if you like.”

It’s a bit of an unfair bet, all things considered — he doesn’t often make bets he can’t win, and while it’s little surprise to him as he claims his prize, he also takes the time to relish in your surprised expression. What, did you really think he would lose? Don’t be silly. Now, tell him what you want to do — he’s already planning an itinerary in his head before work inevitably drags him away that evening.

Even as you two spark up another conversation (What’ve you been up to all this time? Got any travel destinations he might like?) he can’t tell you the whole truth, not yet — but in the meantime he can wrap one arm around your waist just like this, and watch how the dreamscape tints your eyes a shade of the most opulent gold.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #✎... writing.

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fourmoony · 8 months

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Hi oh my gosh I love literally everything you write. And you're doing poly!marauders. So excited.

Would you be willing to do something like reader doesn't have a great self-esteem so she never thought she'd find someone who'd love her just the way she is but then she found them. and is just super in love and incredibly happy?

could be nsfw too if you want.

thankyou!

you are so kind, thank you so much, angel! thanks for requesting, hope you like it :) p.s. this is my first time writing poly!marauders so be gentle pls <3

poly!marauders x f!reader | 1.2k words | masterlist

cw - implied self esteem issues

You feel content in your little bubble.

The kitchen is warm and filled with love and laughter and bodies and the conversation flows freely. It's comfortable and cosy and Remus is making soup so really, your day couldn't get any better.

James is cutting vegetables under Remus' watchful gaze and Sirius is practically hanging over Remus' shoulder, as excited as you about the pot of soup on the stove. You're content to just watch them, let them just be from your place on the counter beside the stove. Remus had chastised you'd burn the side of your leg, James had made an ill timed joke about getting to kiss it better, and said burn was yet to occur. So you sit. You watch. You smile to yourself because you're happy.

It's a daily struggle to remind yourself that you're worthy of being included in this little bubble, that the boys want you here as much as you want to be here. Some days it feels impossible, some days you feel like an intruder, like a burden they're too nice to get rid of. Then Sirius does something so stupidly Sirius and Remus will lean over, kiss the shell of your ear and thank you for being the only sane person in the house. And James asks if he can sit with you while you shower. It's not about sex. Not always, at least. James just likes to listen to your day and tell you about his without the constant buzz of conversation around him, sitting on the toilet with fogged up glasses and a smile on his face. He joins you on the bad days, helps you forget. It's peaceful, and it's your ritual.

They do everything they can to remind you, every day, that they want you there, that they love you as you love them. It's a nice feeling, to be wanted, to be loved, to be understood and appreciated. It's an even lovelier feeling to be a part of someone's routine. The showers with James, pestering Remus while he cooks dinner, reading to Sirius until he falls asleep, sprawled out across the three of you on the couch, his breaths heavy and your hand in his hair. It's a nice life you have. That counts for a lot, even on the days you don't feel worthy.

Today isn't necessarily one of those days, but it's there on your face. That 'outsider looking in' type of mood you get when you think about it for too long. You've discovered you're allowed to feel both content and undeserving at the same time - or, at the very least, that it's possible. You often wonder why Remus, Sirius, and James chose you. It's not a secret, you've asked many times and received many answers, varying in seriousness to Sirius' absurd "we tossed a coin.", to which Remus chastised him relentlessly.

You'd laughed, and that was all Sirius had needed.

Now, you're watching the three of them with the same awe you always do, and Sirius seems to catch it in the split second his eyes leave the pot of soup on the stove. He's on you in a second, not a far walk considering you're sitting so close to the gas stove that you're surprised Remus' theory of your burnt thigh hasn't come true. Sirius' eyebrows furrow in that concerned sort of way they often do when he's trying to read one of the three of you, his hands gentle as they come into contact with the pudge of your hips.

"Spill," He tilts his head, lips downturned at the corners and it makes your heart ache.

They've always urged you to be open, to share your concerns and tell them what, exactly is going on in that 'big beautiful brain of yours', as James calls it. But the look of knowing, of concern, on Sirius' face hurts. You hate that after all this time you still feel this way sometimes. Even on the good days, you catch yourself asking what you did to deserve your boys.

"Hm?" You hum, hands lifting to hold the sides of your boyfriend's face in hopes of distracting him altogether.

His hair is tied back, but you curl an index finger around a strand of stark black hair thats fallen into his face and Sirius smiles, soft and lovely, "You've got that," He waves his hand in front of your face with wiggled fingers and you laugh, "look."

"What look?" You ask, leaning forwards to press a kiss to his lips.

Now Remus, if you had tried a move like that, would tsk, tell you to spill before he rewards you, and it's why you know it'll work when you try it with Sirius. He always gives you whatever you like. His lips return the favour, hands pulling you forward a little on the counter. It's a nice kiss, a sweet kiss, until James scoffs and declares Sirius is easily manipulated.

"Am not." He grumbles, shooting your two boyfriends a dirty look.

Remus rolls his eyes into the soup, sets the lid on it to simmer at the same time James drops the knife and starts putting the vegetables into a bowl.

"C'mon, Dove, what's up?" Remus asks, hip balanced against the stove, turned to face you.

He's in his comfies, the first of the four of you to arrive home from work, earlier, and he looks so soft and warm. You know he won't give in to whatever interrogation Sirius has unknowingly started so you heave a sigh and slump back against the wall cabinets.

"Sirius is being dramatic. The 'look' I had was contentedness with a little bit of 'what on earth did I do to deserve these men?'."

Remus' lips turn up at the corners and he crowds your space, pushing an annoyed Sirius to the side for the moment, "You didn't have to do a thing. We love you as is."

You hum, delighted with the appraisal, a bashful smile coming across your lips. Remus kisses it, quick and sweet, and returns to his soup. Sirius sticks his tongue out at the side of Remus' head and you laugh. James passes the vegetables off to Remus because Sirius is not to be trusted with the good kitchen knives after the Christmas Eve in A&E incident last year, and comes up behind Sirius, arms wrapped around his waist, head firmly on his chin.

You know James' back is probably breaking at the angle, but Sirius would simply be offended for the rest of the night if James used his head instead of his shoulder. He's in denial about his height, you suppose.

"It's more like what on earth we did to deserve you. I've no idea how you put up with those two." James gives you a knowing smile as he speaks.

You both wait for Sirius' outrage and Remus' offended scoff. Both come. They team up on the other side of the kitchen, Sirius hovering over Remus and likely causing more of an annoyance. James uses it as an opportunity to get you closer to him, whisk you off to the couch in the living room now his sous chef duties are complete.

You set up the usual dinner time sitcom and pause it, relaxing into your boyfriend and talking about anything and everything until Remus calls that the soup is ready.

In the kitchen as James and Sirius fight over who should get the first bowl, Sirius because he waited so patiently, or James because he actually helped, Remus slides you your own bowl with a lovely big smile reserved just for you, and you couldn't imagine yourself anywhere else in the world.

#marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders #poly!marauders fluff #james potter #james potter fic #sirius black #sirius black fic #remus lupin #remus lupin fic #marauders era #marauders fluff #marauders fic #fluff #love #fourmoonys asks

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 26 days

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I think this is where we ask for requests? but if it is shanks x reader fanfic ( fluffy pls! and SFW! ) if ur not uncomfortable with it!🤍

Hiii @iloveyoushanks Thank you so much for your ask (and for all your support on my stories! ❤️ I appreciate it very much!)

This was my first time writting for Shanks (excluding his appearance in the meet-cute series, but he's just a dad there, not a daddy 😏) so I hopeeeeee you like this! Totally SFW! Also, you didn't specify gender, so I kept it gender neutral, hope it's okay! Let me know if you liked it! 🙏 Thank you!

Source for pic

Chasing Constellations

Word Count: 2490

Tags: SFW; gn! x Shanks; Fluff; Comfort; Camaraderie; Acting on crushes;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You are done dating boys, you want men. Your Captain claims to be man enough for you. But is he? And are you about to find out?

Notes: Be sure to check out my 100 followers event, as I will close requests on Sunday! Full disclosure, answers to requests may take a while! Thank you for reading this! I do hope you enjoyed it!❤️

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist

“Want to come home with me?”

“Sorry, not today.” You answered with a warm, apologetic smile.

The man who had been leaning at the counter next to you, all smiles and smooth words, cursed loudly as he turned away, slamming his glass on the wooden counter along with a few coins.

The barmaid sighed as she collected them. “Shame, he was sweet and easy on the eyes. Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I don’t know why, really. I guess I am done with boys. They don’t have the emotional maturity of a man.” You said with a scoff.

“Honey, when you’re dating pirates you can’t help but deal with boys. The only maturity they achieve is in size, not in behaviour.” The barmaid let out a hearty laugh while she poured another drink into your empty glass. “If you ask me, you’re much better off just hooking up randomly. Take ‘em, leave ‘em and be done with it!”

You laughed alongside her, her contagious laugh infecting you and your tipsy state allowing you to behave more freely than you normally would.

“That’s some sound advice there.” Shanks, your captain, clinked his glass with yours before downing it in one gulp. “Or just follow mine: date a real man!” He grinned, his smile creasing the corners of his eyes and forming a charming dimple on the right side of his cheek.

The barmaid left you two alone as she tended to other patrons and you eyed your captain from top to bottom, humming in what seemed like an appreciative manner, leaving him to puff his chest at you like a bird attempting to mate. “A real man, you say?” He nodded and winked. “Well, when you find one, send him my way, please.”

Beckman, who was next to Shanks, snorted his drink through his nose as he banged his fists against the wooden counter in pure mirth. Shanks’s grin turned into a pout, his hand against his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, you’ll get over it, aren’t you a real man?” And with that, you let a few coins drop onto the counter and turned to return to the ship. Your captain was funny, handsome, strong, intimidating and he could be very protective of you, even if you rarely needed him to help you. You got along great and had both been spending more and more time together, lately, but, even if you harboured the hardest of crushes on him, you would never consider dating him.

He was too much of a flirt, too much of a manwhore, too much of a player…

He was too much.

Period.

Besides, he would never really be interested in you, right?

-*-

Tossing and turning in bed, sleep kept eluding you. The cabin was too damn stuffy and your crewmates’ snoring - though normally nothing that bothered you - were driving you insane. If only they could all snore at the same rhythm instead of this dissonant cacophony!

Huffing, you threw the sheets back and slid on some slippers on your bare feet, grabbing a light blanket to drape over your shoulders because the night and the sea breeze could be unforgiving.

You found a cosy - secluded - spot by the deck, and sat down, leaning against the balustrade to gaze at the stars. They looked especially bright tonight and the sky was clear of clouds, leaving you with a beautiful painting-like picture to admire.

Just as you were starting to relax, a deep sigh escaping your lips, you heard a roguish voice near you. “Couldn’t sleep? Or are you searching for your perfect man among the stars?”

You immediately smiled at his words as your eyes met his. A mischievous smirk painted his lips as he pointed up. “How about Orion? A legendary hunter, strong, skilled, muscular?”

You scoffed, your fingers entwining as you hugged your knees and Shanks sat beside you, still looking up. “Orion? The stalker?”

Shanks chuckled, making himself comfortable near you and you didn’t miss the way his leg brushed against yours. “You know your myths?”

“Please! I know myths and constellations! Orion pursued the Pleiades sisters who, in exasperation and desire to escape his endless pursuit, sought the help of Zeus, who placed them in the sky as stars so they could be free.” Shaking your head, you huffed in annoyance. “I don’t know what’s worse, running from someone who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer, or having it be written into a love story by someone who clearly doesn’t understand the concept of boundaries and personal space.”

“Message received!” Shanks chuckled as he scooted his leg away from you and you bit your lip. That’s not what you meant, his touch was quite welcome. If you ignored the fact that this was how he flirted with everyone!

Sensing the slight change in atmosphere, you decided to lighten the mood.

“Besides, Orion is clearly fictional. If I'm trying to find a man, I need him to be real. Let's see, he was a giant, handsome, with great strength and hunting skills.” You cheekily stared at Shanks, your legs falling to the side in an effort to close the distance he had created when you spoke about personal space.

Visibly relaxing with the return of your touch, Shanks winked, raising his hand and counting on his fingers. “Giant?” His laugh was cocky and filled with innuendo. “Check! Handsome and strong? Check and check again! Hunting skills? Baby, I'll hunt you down blindfolded in a forest. Try me.”

The huskiness of his voice caught you by surprise, holding your breath prisoner in your throat for a split-second before you both burst into laughter.

“Well, he was also arrogant, boastful and prideful so that's another three checks for you, Captain.” You nudged him playfully with your leg and he laughed, holding his hand in the air.

“Aye, aye, guilty as charged.” A moment passed as he scratched his chin, eyes fixed on the sky. “How about that one?” He pointed at another constellation, clearly challenging your previous claim of knowing your way around the stars.

“Hercules?” He nodded. “Another strong handsome man?”

“I think you might have a type.” He laughed, letting his arm fall on the balustrade behind your head. The heat from his body made you aware of his proximity. “He was brave-...”

“Reckless!”

“He held a strong sense of justice and duty.”

“Impulsive, short-tempered with anger issues…”

“A hero!” He finished proudly.

“An idiot.” You replied with a smirk. “They might have been branded as heroes, but they were still boys, flawed, full of themselves, with almost no regard for others, let alone for a loved one.” Sighing you fixed your eyes back on the sky. “Not even heroes and myths are perfect men, Captain. This is an impossible task.”

This all started out as a joke. A simple answer to a question a barmaid - you'd most likely never see again - asked you. And now it has turned into a real dilemma. You were sick and tired of being toyed with. You did want a real relationship, but none of the men - boys! - you'd dated had been ready to commit.

Shanks was older than you, supposedly wiser and more mature. But he was not boyfriend material, even if he was the perfect man. So he needed to stop this useless flirting if he wasn't going to follow through because your heart wouldn't take it.

“Well, you've left out a perfect specimen.” He pointed up and you followed, a frown on your features, already regretting having indulged your captain in this banter.

“Perseus?”

“Yes.” He answered, pride evident in his features for your correct answer. At least you managed to impress him with your knowledge of the stars. “He had no faults. Come on, I dare you to say something bad about him.”

You pondered, your chest rising and falling with a deep inhale, but Shanks didn’t let you speak.

“He was brave, loyal, honourable, ingenious and resourceful! Plus, he saved his beloved from being eaten alive by a sea beast!” Shanks looked you straight in the eyes and moved his stump, trying to make you laugh again. “Luffy was not my beloved in that sense, but he was still a loved one. I'd say I check all the boxes!”

That did make you laugh, and the two of you shared a fit of giggles, lightening the mood. You could always count on your captain to make you laugh. As you both regained your composure, Shanks let the arm that was on the balustrade fall and land onto your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body, muttering that the night was quite cold and he didn’t want you to catch a chill.

You didn't object, your head fell against his chest as you tried to blame the unexpected gesture on your slight tipsiness - though by now you were more than sober.

“There's one fault I can think of about Perseus.” You whispered as a sigh escaped your lips when you realised how well your head fit against him.

“Really?” Shanks sounded doubtful. His fingers dug into your arm, pulling you even closer, as if there couldn't be any gap between your bodies.

“Perseus was described as youthful. Some legends say he was around fifteen when he slew Medusa. Others say that he was in his early twenties. A boy. Not a man.” Lifting your face slightly, you let your eyes meet his, a slight sadness pressed into them. “Forget it, Cap. I’m fine on my own. Even if they were perfect,” you pointed your finger at the sky, “they would still be out of reach.”

Shanks’ goofy grin, one he had been sporting since he began speaking to you, fell off his lips as his gaze locked onto yours, his pupils darkening and something else hidden, glimmering and pulling you in like a magnet.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m right here, then.” The hand on your shoulders travelled to your nape, fingers slipping under your hair, heat permeating your entire being. “And an even better one, I’m definitely not a boy.”

His eyes never left yours as he slowly leaned down. Your heart pounded incessantly against your chest and every fibre of your being told you to pull away, to flee, to run. This was Shanks! Your Captain! The eternal flirt!

“You’re not a boy, you’re right here… but you’re also a manwhore, Captain.” The soft chuckle that left his lips ghosted over yours, leaving a promise of what could be, if only you let it happen.

“You know, some things are just myths… I bet Orion wasn't even a giant at all! Perseus courageously defeating a sea beast? I guarantee he was scared shitless! Me being a manwhore - as you so eloquently put it.” His lips brushed yours ever so slightly, an invitation, the opening of a door, leaving you to decide if you wanted to enter or not. “Most definitely a myth.”

“But you are as unattainable as one.” All you had to do was lean in. Just a little adjustment of your mouth. He was right there.

“Not for you.” Somehow, his words rang true. You hadn't seen him bring anyone to his cabin in ages. Granted, he could still be seeing someone outside of the ship and then returning, but if you thought hard enough, he had barely been flirting with anyone.

Except you.

Breathing was hard. He was right there. Thinking was harder. His scent was intoxicating. Hearing was impossible. Your heartbeat pounded so loudly that there was nothing else to hear.

“You’ll just break my heart.” You couldn’t find the strength to pull away, even though your words might say otherwise.

“Try me.” It almost sounded like a plea, but it couldn’t be, because Captain Shanks didn’t beg. His fingers pressed into your hair, as if grounding himself and staving off the urge to pull you against his lips. “Please.”

Oh…

Apparently he did beg after all.

Shoving all doubts, insecurities and fears down to the pit of your stomach, you pressed your lips against his. Just a taste. A small peck. You were going to pull back, you really were, but Shanks’ hand spread across your nape as he pulled you against him with the hunger of a starving man.

He tasted slightly of sake, the alcohol lingering on his tongue, making it slightly bitter. But mostly… he mostly tasted of excitement and adventure, of a blissful future and sweet moments.

Suddenly, the stars were no longer in the sky, they were shining within your closed eyelids, supernovas exploding inside your chest, your head swirling at the speed of light.

It was…

“Perfect…” You muttered against his lips as he pulled back a little to let you breathe. Your foreheads pressed together, his hand moving to caress and cup your cheek. Why had you doubted this?

Why had you doubted him?

“Gods, I've been craving that kiss forever.” There was still hunger in his voice, but something else, something far sweeter.

“What do you mean?” Your hands reached in as you pressed your fingers tentatively against his chest, pondering whether you should pull him closer, considering the implications of a second kiss.

“I thought you were the unattainable myth. Not the other way around. You never gave two shits about me.” He made that familiar whine that told you he was playfully hurt.

Your chuckle caught you by surprise, so much so that you let your head fall forward, nuzzling the crook of his neck and breathing in the tanginess of his skin, sea salt and sweat mingling into a dizzying aroma.

“Maybe you should've asked sooner.” You spoke into his skin, holding back the urge to press your lips against it and test how soft it was.

“Asked what?”

“What that guy asked me at the bar.”

“Oh…” You felt as he took a deep inhale against your head, his hand now placing soft circles against your back. “About wanting to come home with me?”

You hum softly.

“Aye, aye.” He chuckled as his fingers travelled up to your chin to tilt it, allowing him to stare into your eyes. “So, do you?”

You weren’t about to make this easy on him. “Do I what?”

“Want to come home with me?” He kissed you between words, his lips pressing against your flushing cheekbones, then your closed eyelids, and finally your nose. A softness to his touch you didn't know he possessed.

The warmth filling your cheeks could have answered for you, but you still nodded, arms circling around his neck, pulling him down toward you, lips merely a breath away.

“Is that a yes?” He didn’t hide the giddiness in his voice, the slight joviality that your wordless agreement brought. The boyish grin on his face.

And you didn’t reprimand him for that. Because for all the youthful attitudes your captain had, he truly was a real man.

And one you wanted to date.

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #op #shanks #shanks x reader #shanks x you #akagami no shanks #akagami no shanks x reader #Akagami no Shanks X you

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year

Text

pining & desperately waiting | javier peña

take the weight off his shoulders - chapter two

Chapter Summary | As much as he’s trying to keep his distance there is just something about you that Javier cannot stay away from. Drawn to you like a moth to a flame, so to speak. He's worried about you too, putting yourself in harms way for your work.

Chapter Warnings | Mutual pining, slow burn, sexual tension, flirting, mention of smoking and drinking alcohol, mention of drugs, drug deaths and the drug trade, explicit smut - masturbation (F)

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note | When I tell you I love this (specific) man, I am telling you I love him. He consumes me. Thank you to @hellishjoel for letting me scream about these two with her and helping me figure this chapter out! If you like this I would love for you to join me in my ask box for screaming and please consider reblogging to support me! If you enjoyed this, you can make a donation to my Ko-Fi if you'd like to support me that way.

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

You dream of him every night for a week after that night at the bar. They’re filthy, depraved sometimes, and you always wake up, slick pooling between your thighs, fingers working furiously before your alarm goes off to try a satiate you, or at least tide you over until you can climb back into bed that night and really take your time to imagine all the ways Javier would take you apart with his fingers, with his mouth, with his….

“Are you even listening to me?”

You want to answer honestly and say no, you were busy daydreaming about getting railed by your dad’s buddy, but when you look across the table and see your boss practically glaring at you, you realise it’s probably for the best to lie a little.

“Sorry,” You mumble, picking up your pen, “Didn’t sleep well, what were you saying?”

“The fundraiser tomorrow,” She speaks, “For Dylan’s foundation, would you be okay to cover it?”

You nod, because it makes sense for it to be you. Dylan had overdosed just over a year ago – seemingly on top of things, doing well in school and incredibly bright, found slouched over on a street corner, dead from an overdose before he’d been able to leave the small town for whatever bright lights he was destined for. He was just one of a string of drug-related deaths over the past twelve months – an ‘epidemic’ as they had coined it – the town too close to Mexico to escape the trade that Javier himself had worked so hard to quell. Dylan’s parent’s had set up a small foundation after his death, hoping to help other young kids who could be lured into this stuff to have other opportunities in their lives.

“What kinda thing are you thinking?” You ask, starting to jot down notes as she speaks.

“Just some reaction from people there, why they’ve decided to come out and support, maybe try and grab one of his parents, just the usual really, and we can run a story in the following days, might help drum up some more support for them if nothing else.”

You nod, doing your usual with your notes of underlining the important parts, making notes on the kind of questions you’ll ask when you speak to people, “How many words have I got to work with?”

“I think we can give them a page,” She says, looking to her boss who nods in agreement, “So whatever you produced for last month’s story, that should be good.”

You nod, making a note of that too, and then continue to zone out for the rest of the meeting as everyone talks amongst themselves, mind going right back to Javi and what he would feel like putting his weight on you, settling between your thighs. You really needed to get a grip.

“Oh, isn’t it so nice to see such a good turn out today?” Your mom gushes, looking around at what feels like the whole of Laredo milling about a number of stalls that are selling all sorts of different things.

“Sure is good to see,” Your dad agrees, putting his hands on your shoulders to give them a squeeze, “You want us to leave you to your reporting, pumpkin?”

The nickname makes you wince a little, a moniker from your early days, before you’d filled out into your body. It was cute, but at twenty-five years of age, you do sometimes wish he’d find something else to call you.

“I shouldn’t be too long,” You turn around and smile at him, “I can come and find you in a little while.”

You wander around, introducing yourself to a few people asking them questions and jotting down notes. You’ve just finished speaking to Martina, famous throughout town for owning her own candle business, about why she’s supporting the foundation, when you step back and feel two sturdy hands holding onto your waist. You’re about to turn around and slap whoever it is for touching you, when that deep voice hits your ears.

“Careful, querida,” Javier fucking Peña, “Almost stood on my foot.”

You whip around, mainly to put a bit of distance between the two of you, because it felt like his lips had been inches from your ear. He drops one of his hands, but keeps the other ghosting at your side, maybe to keep you steady more than anything as you wobble from the speed at which you’ve turned around.

“Maybe you shouldn’t stand too close then?” You offer, making sure it comes out more playful than anything, because actually, all you really want is for his body to press against you more often.

“Fair point,” He shrugs, “Thought I recognized you so I wanted to say hi,” He finally lets that other hand drop from your waist, “So hi.” Is... Is he nervous?

You chuckle a little, “Hi,” you respond simply with a smile, “I didn’t expect to see you here,” You say honestly, this wasn’t his kind of scene before, you can’t imagine it’s any more appealing to him now, “Didn’t think it was your kind of scene.”

He rubs a hand nervously over the back of his neck, “It’s not, I’ve been made to come,” He nods his head behind him where Chucho is talking to a group of other ranchers, “Apparently I’ve got to start showing my face more.”

“Well, it’s a nice face,” your mouth speaks before your brain can catch up with what it’s saying, you inwardly cringe when you realise what you’ve said, “I mean, I’m sure people are happy to see you around.” Is all you can think to say to try and get him to forget the weird compliment.

He seems to smile, but like it had been across the table almost two weeks ago, his smile seems forced, “Just wish I could skip the bullshit about everyone being proud of me.”

“But it’s true,” You shrug, moving away from the stall with him so other people can in front of you to look, “You did really good things out there.”

He scoffs now, shaking his head a little, “You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the newspapers, querida,” He speaks, “Surely you should know that more than anyone.”

You don’t know what he’s actually trying to say, but you decide to play it light, “Are you accusing me of lying in my stories, Peña?” You say with a smirk.

“Perhaps not you,” He offers, “But I know plenty of journalists who know how to twist a story to get what they want,” He looks down at his shoes, kicking at the gravel a little, “Just don’t want you thinking I’m something I’m not.”

“Been gone a long time,” You muse, “You might have to spend some time reminding me who you are.”

It’s flirting the lines of maybe being too much you think, but you’ve not said anything that’s not true. He has been gone a long time, and if what he’s said is anything to go by, he will have to remind you of who he is or show you how he’s changed.

“Not sure you’d like who I am now very much, querida.” He says simply.

You’re about to open your mouth to respond, tell him you’re pretty sure that wouldn’t be true and that there isn’t a thing he could do on this earth that would make you think he was a bad person, but before you can, Chucho is coming up behind him, a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Ah, mija,” He smiles at you, “You here alone?”

“Hey Chucho,” You greet with a smile, “Mom and dad are around somewhere, I’m just here working on a story.” You hold up your notepad and pen.

“Let’s see if we can’t find them, huh Javi?” Chucho muses to his son, “Get you a nice cold lemonade for when you’re finished?” He motions to the blazing sun and then back to you.

“Sounds lovely, thank you,” You motion over their shoulder to where Dylan’s parents are stood, “I just need to speak to them, and I’ll come and find you.”

Javi doesn’t say goodbye, just follows closely behind Chucho as they disappear into the crowds, leaving you to wander over to Dylan’s parents. They’re not strangers to the paper, your boss had written a story with them not long after Dylan’s funeral, trying to spread awareness as to just how deep the drug problem ran in town. The Laredo Morning Times had always been supportive to them, so you didn’t feel the same anxiety you normally did when gathering information for stories, cold calling or knocking on doors trying to introduce yourself before doors are swiftly shut in your face or phones are hung up with a ‘no comment’.

They’re warm with you as you speak to them, thanking you for coming, thanking the paper for agreeing to cover the event, they even smile, which for a pair who lost their only son in such a horrible way still shocks you for some reason. Their loss hasn’t defined them, only made them stronger, made them determined to stop their pain from happening to anyone else. You make a note to write something equally as poetic in your article.

The crowds are thinning out a little as the midday sun does its worst. You can feel beads of sweat gathering behind our knees and you curse the fact you hadn’t remembered your hat. You can feel the heat prickling your skin as you spot your parents, sitting on a picnic bench with Javi and Chucho sat opposite them. When you’re close enough to the table, you can see everyone has plastic cups full of lemonade, but there’s one, put in front of the spare spot on the bench next to Javi, that is pink in colour instead of the cloudy yellow of everyone else’s.

“You get everything you need?” Your dad asks, as you try and fight your legs over the bench in the most graceful way possible.

“Yeah,” You nod, “Think it’ll make a great piece, Dylan’s parents seem really positive about it all,” You pick up the cup and take a sip, pink lemonade, your favourite, “Thanks for this.” You nod in the direction of your dad.

“Don’t thank me, Javi got these,” He smiles, “Remembered you preferred pink lemonade and everything.”

It actually makes your heart swell in your chest. He was always thoughtful, even before he left. Observant almost to a fault. But even after all these years, all of his stress, everything he’s seen, he still knows you well enough to know you prefer the sweeter pink lemonade. You turn your head to him to find him already looking at you with a little smile on his face.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, sipping through the straw.

“You’re welcome, dulzura.”

Javier Peña is doing a piss poor job of staying away from you, even by his standards. He lasted less than a week before he was waltzing over to you, hands on your waist, buying you pink lemonade because he knows you prefer it. There hasn’t been a night where he hasn’t wrapped his fist around his cock and made himself cum over the thought of you. He finds it easier to drop off to sleep once he’s done it, but his nights are still fitful, full of nightmares, tossing and turning, waking up to sweat soaked sheets and a heaving chest. He wonders briefly, when he lies awake watching the dawn arrive through his curtains, whether your body next to him would ease his nightmares? But then he thinks what if it doesn’t. What if you have to wake up, look at him with those innocent doe eyes and see him for what he really is? No, he can’t let his darkness cloud you, you don’t deserve that, you deserve someone that going to be gentle with you, someone softer, not him with all his jagged edges.

He's currently sitting in his truck, just outside of the liquor store, contemplating how badly he wants that packet of cigarettes and the bottle of whiskey he’d driven out to buy. He’d done alright so far, chewing on his Nicorette gum, but his fingers are itching for the familiarity of a cigarette between his fingers, and he’d finished the bottle of whiskey last night.

Then, almost like he’s being punished by God, which would make sense really, all things considered, you’re in his eyeline, walking down the street with a woman who is a little older than you, with your notepad and pen clutched in your hand. It’s late and he wonders where you must be going to report at such a late hour, and then he worries, because in his experience, nothing good happens after dark that worth making the newspapers. As the two of you approach him, he leans further out of his open window, holding his arm out to catch your attention.

“Hey Javi,” You smile, coming to a stop in front of his window, “What are you doing in town?”

“Just picking a few things up,” He answers simply, because this isn’t about him, he needs to know where you’re going, “Where are you going this late?”

You turn to the older woman you’re with, tell her to go on ahead and you’ll catch her up, “There’s been some kind of drugs bust a few streets over,” You explain, “Sounds like it might be quite big so we’re just going down to see what’s happening.”

“Your dad working it?” He asks, because if he is, he knows you’ll be okay.

You shake your head, “Nah, he’s not on nights right now,” You’re shifting back and forth on your feet, clearly itching to get going, “I’ll be alright though, sounds like plenty of dad’s officers are down there.”

He turns his head back to the steering wheel and then back to you, “Be careful, alright?”

You smile at him again and if he’s not careful, he really could get used to being the person who draws that from you more often, “I know what I’m doing,” You chuckle slightly, and he doesn’t doubt it, not really, “Been covering this kinda shit for a while.”

Without really thinking about it, he leans over, roots around in the glovebox and pulls out the little card he knows that’s in there. He passes it over to you, letting you take it, “It’s got my number on it,” He explains, “I’ve been in this shit and I just…” He trails off with a sigh, “Just, call me before you write something that might get you in trouble, okay?”

“Worried about me, Peña?” You smirk, and he thinks above your smile, he’d like to make you smirk more too.

“I’ve just seen too many good journalists write things that ruin their careers,” He shrugs, trying to play it off but probably doing a terrible job of it, “Don’t want you to make the same mistake.”

He watches as you turn the card over in your fingers a few times, before smiling at him one last time, “I’ll call you if need you.” And he really hopes you do.

In that moment, he gives up on trying to resist the call of the liquor store, pulling out his keys from the ignition and opening his door, climbing down onto the pavement. He stalls a little, before he puts a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze, “Go and get your story, reporter.” And then motions his head for you to go.

He buys a bottle of whiskey and two packs of cigarettes, smokes two of them before he gets home. He thinks if he were a stronger man he’d have managed to quit, but he’s not, especially when it comes to you. Sure, he knew you before, but this new you? He’s known less than a month and he’s already struggling to stick to his own rules. He steps down from his truck back on the ranch, walks in and pours himself a healthy double, trying to convince himself it’ll be okay, he just needs to keep to himself, but when he’s led in bed at night, thinking of your sweet smile, he thinks this might just be another thing he fails at.

It’s late. Too late for you to be awake when you have to be at the office in the morning, but you can’t stop looking at the series of numbers, printed on the little card, underneath the words ‘Javier Peña, DEA.’ It’s out of date, clearly, the DEA nothing more than a memory to him. But it’s the principle of it that matters most. He’s worried about you, and he would only worry if he cared right?

You set it on your nightstand, switch off the little lamp and plunge yourself into darkness, right at the same time as you plunge your hand under your sleep shorts and through your folds. You’re soaked, because you always are when you think about him, it’s actually sort of pathetic. You sink two fingers into yourself, only briefly, letting out a satisfied breath, dragging your slick fingers back you to slowly circle your clit.

It's new, the way you always need to take care of yourself. The brief relationship you’d had in college with James hadn’t given you much to work with, you hadn’t really felt desperation to get yourself off like this before.

Your other hand, currently running over your peaked nipples through your tank top, is itching to reach across to your nightstand, pick up the phone and dial that number. You want to breathe down the phone at him, tell him you’re being so bad, that you need him to help, need that deep voice to guide you through it. As you press your fingers harder into your clit, speeding up your circles and bucking your hips, you wonder what he’d actually do if you did call him. Would he tell you to get lost? You don’t think he would, you think he’d do exactly as you asked, talk you through it.

You imagine his voice in your ear, telling you how good you’re being for him. You imagine his hand replacing your own, sinking his fingers into you, using his thumb to work your clit, the rough of his moustache running over the skin of your neck as he kisses you there. It’s the image of him looking down at you, smiling as he makes you cum that tips you over the edge. That flood of relief that rushes through you as you bite down on your bottom lip to keep you from whispering his name as your body shakes through your orgasm.

You wipe your slick fingers on the skin of your thigh, roll over in bed so your back is to the phone, trying to get your breathing under control. You drag the covers up under your chin, closing your eyes and trying to sleep without imagining his strong arm around your waist, his broad chest against your back. Does he snore? You wonder as you try and fall asleep. Would he keep you warm? It’s all running through your head as you sleep, conjuring up dreams that come morning have you realizing something has to give, you have to know, you have to have him. You needed Javier Peña more than the air you breathe, no matter how bad it was to admit that, no matter what it meant, no matter what it would cost, you needed him and you think to yourself as you drive to work, that he might just need you as much as you need him.

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peanutbubba · 27 days

Note

This one might make me a freak but "I'm cringe but I AM FREE" is like my slogan at this point so popping off I will be again.

I am half awake

Younger Law, 20-22, finally loosing his virginity after trying since he turned 17. He'd gotten close with plenty of people before, it's just that he'd either get cold feet and leave his partner confused and with a leaf in their bed or he his expectations weren't met so he pushed them away. Personally I don't label Law's sexuality, don't care much for labeling sexuality in my headcanons much, so he has tried attempted with both sexs but because I want to (I don't think I could type what I wanna so I'll let you figure out what I was gonna say) I'm thinking of a scenario where he looses his virginity to a dude, maybe just amab, I feel like virgin Law would be scared of a strap.

Guy's probably older by maybe 3 years, and it makes a difference, first person to get Law to calm down enough to not instantly ghost them once more than a shirt comes off, first person to make Law want to be heard by the neighbors, first person to fuck Law so sweet and good he almost considers offering them a place on his crew cause god all mighty the dick is that persuasive. Also, as a treat, they switch at some point or a few, still a lot of his partner talking Law through it and giving him special attention for doing so good at fucking them. I feel like Law is a default soft top/sub top, he can lay pipe when asked but bro just wanna be praised for doing a good job fr. Jesus christ if you've seen some of the other shit I say in people inboxes I love the aftercare scene like the most. Law is doing nothing after he cums!! Doesn't matter, carry him or push him off if you must but he is not participating in the movement of his body unless you're injured. Image you get done plowing Trafalgar D. Water Law and he pouts when you expect him to help clean up or he lies on you chest (BOOBY ENJOYER LAW TRUTHERS RISE) after plowing you and is pouting when you mention you guys need to get up.

This is not nearly as freaky as I had first thought it to be. Another day then I will bring you something that make Deadpool and Wolverine fans blush.

- ✨️💀✨️

Virgin Law being afraid of a strap is the funniest thing to me, like I can just imagine him making that face he usually does when he’s in complete shock, except now it’s also mixed with a touch of terrified because this colorful piece of silicone is threatening to destroy his hole. It also probably freaks him out that it isn’t real.

Anyways, as for my input, imagine marine hunter, or solo pirate reader actually being the one that helps him get over his fear. He already doesn’t have a good rep with either, but you’re able to smooth talk him enough to get him in a hotel room with you (bonus points if reader has an accent, or is just really fucking good with their words.), only to see how tense and awkward this man is.

You spend like a good 10-15 minutes just calming him down and setting up some boundaries with him, and he’s surprised as fuck because A.) you’re this super dangerous person but you’re actually super sweet?? And B.) you’re one of the first people to take the time to check in constantly with him.

Except at some point it pisses him off how nice you are, you’re balls deep in him and have already checked in with him 3 fucking times! If you don’t just make him scream your god damn name!

And now the fun part is that because you’re a marine hunter/solo pirate you’re usually just wandering from island to island with your own agenda, sometimes you just stop by wherever the fuck Law is now because you’re both in this unlabeled relationship with each other.

Sometimes you get him coins, medical books, more coins, just any gift you’d think he’d appreciate because you like seeing that stupid grin he gets when something he likes is in his hands.

As a thanks he always takes you to his captain quarter, the next morning you’re stumbling out completely dazed and fumbling with your ship as you mumble sweet flustered goodbyes, mean while he looks perfectly fine like you two didn’t spend the entire day exerting yourselves in his bed.

It’s always something new with him too, for a once virgin he can get down and freaky!

But one particular day you guys decided to switch roles, instead he’s on top now and good golly is this man so gentle. It can’t even be considered fucking anymore, this man is practically making genuine love to you.

Not that you’re mad about it, especially when you spew whispered praises about how he’s doing so good, or how he’s filling you up so well, and you can see his skin prickling with goosebumps in a good way.

Whimpering as he melts under your soft words, the soft sex somehow becoming even softer?! It’s great.

And when both of you are satisfied and done he’s laying his head on top of your chest and just resting, burying himself as far as he can between your tits. If you even try to protest this 6 foot almost 200 pound man just gets grumpy, plus all it gets him to do is close his arms around your waist and pull you even closer to him, burrowing himself even further in your chest like he’s trying to fuse with you.

It’s kind of cute, but also nasty because you’re both so sweaty, plus your legs are dripping with drying lube and cum and you terribly badly want to shower.

The only way you’re getting him off of you is if you physically pull him off and carry him to the bathtub. Yes you have to fill it with water, yes you have to wash him, and yes he is once more all up on your fucking boobs again.

It doesn’t matter if you’re on his lap or he’s on yours, either way you’re dealing with this until you have to clean your chest, or his face.

Best believe afterwards all he’s doing is putting some boxers on, you have to change the bedsheets and after that his cozying himself all up on you, he is the little spoon no objections.

On a side note, this idea get even 10x funnier if instead reader is already apart of a crew. He knows that you’re loyal to your captain and all but like… c’mon, he’s so much better!

It’s even WORSE if your captain is Luffy or Kidd, this man is not accepting it. What do they have that he can’t literally do 100x better 😒.

Join him instead… pretty please… with a cherry on top??

—

I love this freak, please never stop talking about him with me 🙏.

Also as a Deadpool and Wolverine fan I take this as a challenge, hit me with the freakiest shot you got.

#one piece #anime #trafalgar law #trafalgar water d law #one peice x reader #law x male reader #one piece x male reader #law x reader #gender neutral reader #male reader #top male reader #top reader #top character #gn reader #bottom character #bottom reader #drabble #pea talks

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innocent-cat · 5 months

Text

THIS IS #PART TWOO AND ITS SO LONG SO IM SORRY BUT I HOPE ALL 17 OF YOU LOVE IT SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG

Vax x Reader x Percy

Warnings - swearing, descriptions of blood and wounds, the works, etc

"Vox Machina's (least) favorite Sorcerer.", Vax x Reader x Percy

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[F/N] - Family Name

Lady Mystra - Goddess of magic/The weave

The weave - How raw magic is tapped into by spellcasters

Uriel - The guy who runs Emon

Envonium - The name of the city you are a noble to (Sorry, couldn’t avoid it)

The walk to the small ‘town’ ahead was a quick one, and the smell of the burnt wood and cloth was strong. It contrasted the smell of the wet wood and the muddy ground. Percy splits off from you and joins Vex in an ‘investigation’ into what happened to the town.

A little awkward with everyone else, you follow Vax around like a lost dog, like you had done numerous times in school when you were a child. You don’t know what to think of the memories of following around whoever smiled at you, assuming they wanted to be friends, when, in reality, they only felt bad for your awkwardness. Which was rare, considering you didn’t understand any norms with them.

You shake the memory away as Pike is asked to bless a house for protection against whatever evil is against them. She awkwardly agrees, walking up and muttering something quickly under her breath. She backs away and quickly says that the house will be in ‘tip-top shape’, and the mother of the family Percy and Vex are currently questioning thanks her for her effort in a motherly kind of way, understanding her awkwardness despite not having any context.

The son of the family walks up to Vax as he does an impressive trick with a coin. The small boy asks him if he’s a wizard, and you let out a snort by accident, quickly covering it up with a cough as Vax kicks you lightly in the shin, assuming you were laughing at the boy; you were laughing at him. You smile as he continues to do the trick, explaining it's all in the fingers. He pulls it out from behind the boy’s ear, handing him the coin after. He tells him that it is now in his, encouraging him to learn coin tricks. The boy awes, and his sister walks up to him to see what is going on.

A smile creeps onto your face as you watch the sweet gesture Vax makes towards the young boy, admiring his gentleness with children, which contradicts the bar fight you had met him through. It was a funny thought, in which you let out a small laugh too.

“That's real silver. Keep it safe. There's a monster roaming about.” He warns them, but the girl promptly corrects him.

“..You mean flying.” She comes closer.

“What's that?” He replies quickly, urging her to explain what she means.

“Something flew over us. It knocked down the big tree on the hill..” She points towards the tall hill. “We heard wings beating, but we couldn’t see it in the storm.”

Her brother chimes in; “It was big. Really big.” She agrees with a soft ‘Yeah.’

Vax looked over to the hill in which she pointed, and the party promptly went there.

It was a grueling uphill walk led by Trinket, as he sniffed out tracks of the monster we were searching for. What tracks Trinket did find, Vex explained, were too muddy to discern, so we continued south.

The tracks were hard to follow- even for Trinket. They were erratic and went in several directions until they finally stopped. When they did finally stop, they were human tracks.

Vex cups her ear in discomfort, wincing before she warns us- “It’s close. Everyone get ready!”

You draw your quarterstaff out, as does Keyleth. Percy draws his gun, Vax readies his dagger, and Scanlan.. readies his.. guitar.. Grog pulls out his axe, and Pike summons a shield. The bush shuffles violently, and Vex rises to her feet and draws an arrow against her bow.

Anxiety kneads itself in your stomach as you prepare for the worst- until a lamb pops out of the bush. Grog laughs.

“Get the fuck out- you’re telling me a wittle lamb caused all this mayhem?” He giggles through his sentence, but the anxiety in your stomach only kneads stronger than before. Vex falls to her knees and grovels in pain as she covers her ears, groaning.

Loud footsteps boom in front of you, and out from the fog, a giant, scaly foot steps onto the miniature lamb, the lamb splattering all over the foot and the ground. Stepping forward, the sight of a massive blue dragon reveals itself to your party, and Scanlan nervously curses, but none of you run.

It breathes a massive hurl of lightning out of it’s mouth, and you quickly drag Vex to her feet and run with her out of the way of the bright beam. Keyleth, Trinket, Vex, and you all run behind a tree for cover, watching as Grog and Pike are flung into a tree from the force.

Scanlan is yanked behind a tree by Vax as the dragon cuts down the forest with it’s strong jaws. Bright electric blue runs up it’s tall neck as it breathes in, releasing a spew of pure lightning out of it’s mouth. The trees are lasered down, and the branches catch fire. Several birds are seen flying away from their now-destroyed homes. Crawling out of the burning forest, the party regroups hurriedly.

“I suggest we run. Right now!” Percy logically commands us, not suggests to us, only to be quickly told no by Grog.

“Fuck that. We fight!” He screams, charging in towards the dragon as everyone follows. You stay behind with Keyleth, frantically casting low-level spells that merely bounce off the dragon’s electric skin.

As quickly as Grog makes it to the dragon, he is flung away with only one leg before he is able to strike. Scanlan makes a complaint about Grog already being down, but you can’t hear it beyond the chaos and panic currently affecting the entire party.

Everyone seemingly unloads every useful item they can think of, several magic arrows flying toward the dragon, followed by many bullets, all of which bounced right off.

“Keyleth! A little magic might help?” Vex yells at Keyleth from on the floor after being blown away by another blast from the dragon. You glance between Keyleth and the dragon, giving her a quick nudge and a ‘We’re all gonna die’ look. Keyleth glances around nervously as Percy shouts as he fights beside Pike and Vax. Vex grabs Keyleth once she recognizes you are too busy casting a spell to snap Keyleth out of it. She quickly apologizes, and begins to cast.

Your last spell flies towards the dragon as Keyleth’s spell affects the clouds in the sky. The clouds swirl in a strange pattern that covers the moon as you all gather by Keyleth for what you hope is protection. A strike comes down from seemingly the moon and directly hits the dragon, but it only makes the dragon stronger.

“Did I just make it worse?” Keyleth shouts, panicked.

Pike jumps in front of the group and enlarges her shield. She lowers it when she realizes the dragon is aiming to cut down the mountain above you. Rocks collapse above you, piling onto the entire party painfully.

The dragon sniffs the boulders and rocks to see if everyone is dead, and sniffs closely to Grog’s bloody hand that sticks out of the pile, it flies away, seemingly deciding Grog’s hand was enough evidence of your death. It flew away with a strong push of it’s wings that shook the earth beneath you, and Scanlan began to complain about being stuck under Grog.

Everyone slowly climbs out, hurt from the battle, but unscathed from the vines Keyleth quickly commanded to protect the party. Once untangled from the rest of the party, Vax gives you a helping hand and pulls you off of Percy as you mutter an apology to him.

“At least we’re still alive. Thank the Everlight.”

“And thank Keyleth for the giant shrub.” Vax responded to Pike as he cleaned off his dirtied clothes. “But did you have to make it so thorny?” He pulls a thorn out of his side.

“We almost died.” Keyleth sputters out nervously and Pike returns to her side, holding her hands and reassuring her in some way.

As you talk to the rest of the party, Keyleth acknowledges Grog’s wounds.

“Nah just a flesh wound, no big. Question- is this normal?” Grog waves away Keyleth’s concerns but uncovers a very much rapidly gushing wound that nearly splashes onto Vax. Everyone takes a large step away from Grog as his wound spews blood. A wave of ‘Oh no-’ and ‘Holy shit.’s are followed.

“I’m gonna throw up.” Scanlan airly speaks, discomfort in his voice prominent.

Pike quickly heals him with a bright, beautiful light that emits from her hands. “That.. took a lot out of me.” She falls over, and Scanlan catches her.

“I got you.”

“Uh, thanks. You can.. put me down now.” Pike awkwardly asks Scanlan and he does, awkwardly agreeing.

“Alright. Fuck Uriel and fuck all of this.” Vax says, aggressively giving up.

“Must I remind you we gave our word to the council? That should probably mean something.” Percy angrily retorts.

“Oh who gives a soggy anus about the council? The only word I care about is Scanlan Shorthalt. And yes- I know thats two words but you know what I’m saying!”

“Yeah! What have those fuckity fucks ever done for us? Except give us a job and a bunch of gold and treasure and stuff.” Grog argues but seems a little lost.

“It’s not about the dragon- or the council. It’s about the people. They need us. We can’t just run away.” Pike encourages the party.

“This is why I hate traveling with holy people; they're too goddamned good.” Percy complains half heartedly.

“That’s rude, Percy.” You give him a soft shove as you speak under your breath to him.

“Pike. This creature is beyond us. When Vax and I were young, one of those monsters killed my mother. I studied them my entire life to find who did it- I can feel when they're close. A horrid pain in my head.”

“Then it’s settled. We’ll return to the palace and get out of the contract.”

“You don’t understand, Percy. I felt it there too. At the palace.”

“Y-you’re just telling us now?” Scanlan asks Vex angrily.

“I’m sorry.. I wasn’t certain until the dragon.. it's been years since mother..” Vex trails off, her sentence jumbled up in a confusing spew of reasons.

Vax comes closer to comfort Vex, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure, Vex’ahlia?”

“I am sure. Someone on the council must have been in contact with the dragon or.. I don’t know but I’m sure that it was real.”

“Then it’s not worth it, you’ve all heard her. One of those monsters could be working with the council. Lets just get the hell out of here and never step foot in Emon again.” Vax backs up Vex.

Vax walks away, and the entire party follows him back to the small town in the rain, only to find it charred and burnt down to a crisp. The wood supports of nearly every house had broken under the pressure as they burned, crackling in the rain.

Vax runs to the house of the family, and everyone follows him slowly, still slowly looking at the houses in shock.

“They wiped them out.. all of them..” Pike speaks softly and mournfully, as if she had known the people her entire life.

Vax runs through the curtained doors to find the family burnt and bloody. The mother held her daughter protectively in their last moments. A tapping can be heard from a wooden box, and Vax quickly runs to open it alongside Grog.

“Pike! Get over here!” Vax pulls out a bloodied boy- the son of the family that he had given the coin to. He groans weakly in pain, as Pike’s light flickers, her spell fading and failing to heal the boy.

“We could have stopped this. We should have.” Vax’s voice is emotional, unlike any way you’ve heard him speak before. Even when he was comforting Vex it wasn’t like this.

Scanlan tunes his guitar while leaning against the door frame.

“Scanlan- what the fuck are you doing?” You look at him angrily for disrupting what felt like a moment of mourning for the party.

“Thinking of a rhyme for ‘dead dragon’ ‘cause I guess we’re killing one.”

“I’m in. I mean, I’m terrified out of my mind, but I’m in.” Keyleth explains, as the rest of the party changes their mind and chimes in with several ways to say they’re going to kill the dragons alongside everyone else.

They all turn to you, waiting for your confirmation, which you had forgotten to say.

“Of course I’m in.” You come closer to the group as they all begin to surround one another.

“You all realize we’re going to die a truly gruesome death, right?” Vex scoffs at the party’s ambitions.

Before standing to join the group, Vax pockets the coin he gave the boy. “Perhaps, sister. But we will die truly glorious deaths- and we’ll kill a fucking dragon.”

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“Seems your band of fools have gone missing. Safe to say you’ve sent Vox Machina to their doom?” The council’s adviser, a drow, was currently speaking about the concern of Vox Machina’s untimely deaths that were bound to happen.

“DOOM? We don’t know the meaning of the word.” Scanlan loudly spoke in what you thought was his attempt to sound fancy to mock the drow, and you cringed at his attempt.

“Uh. I certainly don’t.” Grog replied to Scanlan, being genuinely confused on what it meant.

“Sovereign! Hold onto your goddamned crown- We’ve discovered that the dragon is none other than a blue dragon!”

“We know.” They all spoke in unison, shooting down what Scanlan thought to be a revelation.

“Did you kill it?”

“I wouldn’t say kill really.” “We’re still kinda working on that part.” Pike and Keyleth awkwardly explain to the council

“I can’t believe you made it out alive! How did you survive?”

“Trade secrets! Can’t share ‘em.” Scanlan lied.

“We hid and it flew away.” You and Percy both retort to Scanlan’s lie very quickly.

“Wait, how did we survive that?” Grog had begun giggling, but paused to question your party’s survival.

Vex holds a hand over her ear as the drow continues to speak.

“Fools are useless, sire. Perhaps if we made an offering to the dragon, gold in exchange for peace?” The drow persuaded.

“Why don’t we shake it’s hand and offer it a fucking pint while we’re at it?”

“A Dragon cannot be bartered with- If it desires Emon’s destruction, it will not relent.” Vex and Vax both rebuttal the drow’s illogical thinking.

“You heard her, sire. You know what must be done.”

“But what if it attacks the city? We’d be sitting ducks!” Kima argues.

“What would you have me do? Let it burn more farmland, slaughter more innocents?” The sovereign slams his fists on his chair, and stands.

“No. We will bring the fight to it- on our terms. General, you may move our soldiers at dawn.” He addresses General Krieg firmly.

“But sire, you know as-” “I have made my decision Lady Kima,” The sovereign cuts her off aggressively. “This council is adjourned.”

“All right, you heard him. Clear out.” A group of guards begin pushing your party out of the room and through the doors, the drow watching distastefully, not turning his body to fully view.

“Don’t kill it before we do! Y-your offer’s still on the table, right?” Scanlan shouts out, but his asks falls on empty ears as you shove the guards off yourself, and pat their imaginary ‘dirt’ off your clothes. Guards like them are nursed and spoiled- never going to the battlefield and only residing by rulers inside of their tall castles or mansions. You knew their type- rude and demeaning, generally abusive of what little power they had.

Cooing is heard just beyond the doors, and when it opens, it abruptly stops. Trinket looks between the two guards who now stand stiffly, confused.

“I felt it again. That same feeling I had around the dragon. There must be a connection,” Trinket leaves the guards and moves through the group, and pushes his head into Vex’s hand, begging to be pet and he does so. “One of them is working with that fucker.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh. I knew it. I bet it’s Allura. I never trust anyone prettier than me.” Scanlan stands next to Grog proudly with his revelation, as Grog nods and pretends to understand.

“You must not trust a lot of people, Scanlan.” You snarkily reply to Scanlan with a short laugh before Vex and Percy cut into the conversation.

“No, you dipshits. Fince.”

“The creepy one. Looked like a withered piece of scrap leather?”

You raise an eyebrow at Percy. “..Or maybe he's just a drow?” You speak, half offended for Fince, but half knowing the description was true.

“Ohh! I didn’t catch anybody’s name.” Grog laughs and nods.

“So, what do we do next?” Keyleth asks, unsure.

“Vax and [name] go to Gilmore’s, buy us a weapon that can kill a dragon.”

“Uh, with what? We’re flat fucking broke.” Vax asks Vex, his elbow resting on her shoulder.

“Please. With the way that man dotes on you, I’m sure you can work something out.” Vex mocks Vax for even asking as Pike silently giggles behind you.

The two of you group together and begin walking down the stairs.

“The rest of us will split up and search for Fince. If you find him, don’t let him out of your sight.” Vex orders the group.

“That sounds like a plan, but you’re not the only one with ideas, Vex.” Scanlan tilts his head.

“Is that so? Please, Scanlan tell me your’s.” She leans on Trinket and he silently growls at Scanlan.

Letting out a yelp, he walks away. “I’ll tell you.. When I have one.”

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Vax points out Gilmore’s to you and drags you along. He pushes the draped cloth door out of the way for you, his arm slightly above your head to avoid messing with your hair by sweeping over you. You duck under his arms and enter the shop- met with distinct aromas, a warm and soft lighting of lanterns scattered about, and the sound of beads clinking together.

“You have entered a realm of mystery, of magic, of marvel. Welcome to Gilmore’s Glorious goods! Enchanted curials and magical artifacts at discounted prices. I take gold, silver, platinum,-” He gasps when he turns to meet Vax’s eyes. “Why if it isn’t the mysterious Vax’ildan?” He chuckles. “I was hoping you’d swing back through again” He feign kisses Vax on both sides of his face as Vax laughs, what you can only assume is a normal greeting between the two. You decide to let Vax do the talking and explore the shop yourself to find whatever items may be needed to make use of what little time you have.

You try to ignore their flirting, and for a while you succeed, until it becomes too much, and eventually clear your throat as Gilmore playfully pushes Vax. They both look at you.

“..HI.” You speak awkwardly, trying to make your presence known as you slowly flip through a book.

The shop looks unorganized to the untrained eye(your’s), but Vax seemed to have no problem navigating through the junk and magical items scattered about when walking towards Gilmore. Several books catch your eye as you stop to read them, recognizing their magical origin. Opening the book you cough and wave dust particles out of your face, now realizing this book hadn’t been touched since it was brought here. A shame, considering it’s fruitful information.

However, as you walk on, it becomes apparent not every book here is magical. A book left wide open by Gilmore is very clearly smut. You double take and look at it again in confusion as the two of them speak.

Gilmore offers a rather expensive lance that looks more for show than for dragon slaying, and Vax explains the party can’t afford it.

“Maybe a smaller price for a bit of advice?” Vax offers.

“Hopefully what you’re offering isn’t too tiny.”

You offer up two silver coins, being stingy on your money knowing Vax could charm his way into the tiny advice anyway.

“I… suppose size isn’t everything..?” Gilmore awkwardly speaks, staring at the tiny sum.

Vax leans in. “We need to know if blue dragons have any weaknesses.”

“Weaknesses, eh? Well- to start they’re ego maniacs. They hate being insulted and have tremendous vanity,” He chuckles. “Not that I can relate.” Vax and Gilmore both laugh with each other.

“Hi! Still here. Is there any way to stop them?” you ask, pushing Vax slightly out of the way to get Gilmore back on track.

“Honestly, there’s no simple way to kill a dragon. Even in tomes of old, legends of their destruction are largely poetic drivel.” He pulls out a book and blows the dust off of it, the particles waving in your face as you cough and wave it away. “Ah- The Wyrm shall only find defeat in the gorge where the twin rivers meet. See? Cute but..”

“Useless.” Vax cuts in.

“Gods, did a dragon write this?” You trace the words of the pages with your finger complaining, trying to make sense of the old pages, but nothing comes to you.

“While dragon anatomy is a topic for many scholar, anyone close enough to find out seems to get themselves… snapped up.” A purple magic hue brushes into Vax’s face and he grunts in response.

“Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful, but you get what you pay for.” He plays with a silver coin in between his fingers.

“Gilmore, this is all very useful, even the bullshit. If we survive this, I owe you dinner.” Vax’s voice is low.

You raise an eyebrow to this speech, now very doubtful and confused of their relationship. Were they a fling? Are They a fling? Your thinking is cut short when Gilmore cuts back in.

“You owe me more than that, my handsome half-elf.”

Definitely were a thing.

“All right you two, foreplay’s over, let's go. We should probably go find our friends.” You walk out and Vax follows, leaving to find where everyone has gone. The interaction had turned your mood sour, just about done with talking to anyone for the day.

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Grog eats a sandwich as the rest of the party attempts to unlock the door that the drow, Fince, was seen walking into.

“..Sturdy lock. Nothing a magical song can’t handle.” Scanlan sings an obviously dirty song in an attempt to unlock the door. It fails. “Damn, that usually works.” He looks to you.

“What? Why are you looking at me?” You raise an eyebrow in confusion as he motions for you to take a try at the door.

“I’m not yet powerful enough to cast knock- you should know that. Try someone else.” You deny helping and cross your arms, watching as Keyleth takes a turn at it.

“What if I heat the metal and melt the lock?” She heats the metal, but only lights Scanlan on fire.

“What the hell, Keyleth? This is imported silk!” Scanlan complains as he pats out the smokey fire on his shoulder.

“The lock doesn’t seem to be magical.. I’m not sensing anything.” Pike strains as she casts detect magic.

“Can you people do nothing right? It’s just a damn door!” Vex complains

“I’d like to see you try.” You quickly snap back at her expectantly, mostly defending the others, but deep down you know you’re trying to defend yourself too.

Vax takes the toothpick out of Grog’s sandwich and quickly picks the lock.

“All it takes is a little finesse. Amateurs.” You roll your eyes as Vax opens the door, and tosses the toothpick to the floor.

You turn when you hear Grog complain.

“That was my toothpick.” A squelch follows as about three-fourths of his sandwich falls out. You feel a little sorry, but there isn’t much to be said.

“This must be Governor Krieg’s place..” You speak, eyeing the rather large portrait of the man.

“Oh, shit. I bet Fince is here to assassinate his ass.” Scanlan quickly replies, looking around.

“Oh, you think? Lets split up. Keyleth and Percy will search up stairs, Scanlan and Pike take the attic. The rest of us-”

Vex is interrupted by a creak.

“Or.. maybe we could all start here.” Vax motions towards the wooden latch on the floor, and the party promptly crawls in.

The party is met with Fince with his back turned, scavenging through the library held in the hidden basement. It was dark, and admittedly a little damp. Fince likely didn’t mind, though. 120 feet of darkvision must be rather useful. Thank living in the underdark for that.

“Aha! We caught you blue handed chicken humper!” Scanlan yells out and you kick him in his shin slightly, an annoyed face he likely could not read in the dim light.

“What is with you lot and prejudice against drow, gods above! Manners!” You complain, not breaking your focus on the spell you’ve prepared, still aiming it at Fince.

“Drop your blade, Fince!” You yell at him after scolding Scanlan.

“What? No! No, You don’t understand! I’m not stealing anything.” Fince defends himself quickly, his words spilling out of his mouth, the same way a river is occasionally stopped by rocks in it’s flowing path.

“Of course you’re not! Just like how that sword isn’t to murder General Krieg with, either right?” Pike shouts back, adding her few cents into the mix.

Grog squats down to whisper.

“Pike.. I think it is.”

“You must listen to me. These documents are evidence. General Krieg is planning-” Fince’s voice is panicked, but his voice is quickly cut short as blood suddenly gurgles in his throat and a sword slices from his abdomen to his chest. He falls, and the blade falls out of his body, a shadow stepping forward.

General Krieg.

“Krieg!” Vex and Vax both shout out, in shock.

“Nice bloody technique,” Vax praises, showing he obviously ignored what the drow had to say. “How do you stay so quiet in that armor?”

Vex gasps in pain and falls backwards, Vax catching her.

“He’s the one! In league with the..”

“Of course it was me. I championed you because you’re a bunch of witless oafs who no one gives two shites about. You’ve been lucky so far, but you have no idea what you have gotten yourself into.” Krieg’s thick irish accent spills out as he mocks your party, and you can’t help but have an angry face- not on account he called your party witless and unnamed, but on account he called you witless and unnamed.

“I’ve got him.” Vax quickly lunges forward, throwing knives at him. Krieg deflects them and runs back into the hall.

“Finesse, huh?” You question Vax mockingly before chasing after Krieg.

“He’s.. gone.” Scanlan speaks, shocked.

“Quite the keen observation, Scanlan.” Percy mocks Scanlan. You let out a small laugh to Percy’s quick response.

“There must be a hidden exit or trap door. Fan out. Look for some kind of Fulcrum.”

“Wait- a fuck room?” Grog asks, confused.

“I mean, that’s what I heard.” Vax plays along.

“Fulcrum- the pivot around which a lever turns. A lever or a button.” You correct and explain to them snappily, not meaning to do so in such a manner.

“Just.. stand over there, Grog. And don’t touch anything!” Percy instructs Grog to move towards the nearly nude portrait.

You listen to Percy’s instructions but seem to stick to him as he searches, not knowing who else to be beside. It’s not like you wanted to walk around aimlessly by yourself- you’d rather look lost than look awkward. Just Percy’s presence is enough to feel normal and at home again.

“Whoaa.. You guys, everything in this room is magical. Where do we even start?” Pike exclaims.

“This guy really has a thing for dragons..” Keyleth comments, awkwardly looking around. She peers down at the dragon spiral- five dragon heads on a carpet. Well- not heads? Dragon necks and heads? Whatever.

“Grog.. it’s rude to stare” Keyleth corrects Grog, disregarding the fact it’s a painting he’s goggling at. “Grog, you’re being gross!” Keyleth tosses a book at Grog and hits his head, the book bouncing off and going straight through the portrait.

“Oh! Keyleth you found it! It’s a portal!” Pike’s excitement is evident as she points at the portrait/portal happily, practically bouncing.

“Nice work,” Vax praises Keyleth with a shocked breath. “Brilliant really.”

Keyleth blushes in response, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh.. It was nothing.”

“She threw a book at a head, it was nothing.” Vex cuts into the conversation aggressively correcting the two of them. Thanks Vex. Does Vax just flirt like that with anyone??

You question yourself, but listen to Vex’s speech.

“Listen- if we’re gonna fight Krieg, we have to do this as a team, all right? Organized. As one.”

“Please, we… we don’t do organized. Look at us! We’re Vox Machina We fuck shit up.”

You butt into the conversation. “You don’t get it. We’re potentially fighting a General and a blue fucking dragon. If you want to die, have at it, but don’t expect me to go down with you.” You stand beside Vex, who stands in the middle of you and Vax as you look at the rest of the party ready to jump through the painting.

Vex nods her head in agreement and quietly thanks you under her breath for backing her up. “Can we at least try?”

“Can we atleast go already?” Vax complains, walking toward the portal with disregard for what Vex and you were practically begging the party to listen to.

You two follow suit as Vax pushes Grog through the portal. Vex lets out an annoyed groan and walks through the portal with the rest of the party.

“You know what guys? Goodluck. I’m just gonna keep a lookout from here.” You hear Scanlan’s voice timidly speak through the portal, and you quickly yank him through.

Keyleth shivers. “It’s so cold.. Where is this place?”

“High in the mountains, I’d say.” Vex responds, shivering too.

“Wherever we are.. we’re far from Emon.” Vax comments as you walk through the cold, blue cave, overlooking the shiny gold scattered throughout that gives a small gleam from the small amount of sun peaking through.

The gold glitters gorgeously as the sun hits it just right, and Scanlan lets out a pleased gasp. “No way.”

“Gold.” Vex breathes out in shock, taking in the mass amount of gold.

Grog, Pike, Scanlan, and Vex all run ahead to grab it.

“Seems excessive for a council member.” Percy remarks.

“Seems excessive for anyone.” Vax replies, and follows the rest of the party as they run for the gold like eager children.

You stand by Percy anxiously as the rest of the party shovels gold into bags, daydreaming of the alcohol they can buy with all the gold they’ve ‘found’.

“This is weird. Why are we so eager to take the gold? Aren’t we still trying to kill the General?” You question quietly to Percy as he hums, about to speak but stops when Vex realizes too.

“Wait! Wait wait wait- this gold didn’t fall out of the fucking sky. This is a horde! We’re in the dragon’s lair!” The party promptly drops their gold in shock as Vex yells.

You turn quickly when you hear Keyleth gasp suddenly.

“Intruders.” A loud, dark, ominous voice echoes through the cave. The rock Keyleth was looking at crumbles apart in seconds

“I didn’t do that! Did I do that? I don’t think I did that.” Keyleth questions herself, but the attention quickly turns to Vex as she folds over with hands over her ears, groaning in pain.

“I must say, I’m impressed. To tell you the truth I was certain you would die the moment you met the mighty Brimscythe- But it seems some vermin are harder to kill than others.” A recognizable irish accent shouts from above at your party with disdain.

“You-you wanted Uriel to send the entire army out of Emon.. So your dragon friend could wipe them out!” Vex shouts angrily up at Krieg.

“The Age of Man is coming to an end. There was a time when dragons ruled all of Tal’dorei! When we ruled the entire world.”

“Did he just say we?” Percy asks, reiterating what he heard to the party.

“I’m pretty sure he just fucking did.” You quickly reply to Percy, but in an instant, Krieg shapeshifts into a mighty blue dragon.

“Didn’t see this one coming, did you Vex?” Scanlan shouts at Vex.

“I fucking told you! What are we standing for? Run!” You counter Scanlan, recounting your argument for going in unplanned before. Krieg flies to the top of the cave, hanging onto spikes, and blows lightning at the party. The party quickly scatters about, and Vax takes your hand as you retreat for cover, dragging you along to safety.

The two of you watch from behind a rock as Grog is shocked, and falls to the floor.

“Are you alright?” Percy shouts.

“Uhmm.. no.” Grog replies with a groan.

Krieg blows lightning again, scattering the party more than they already were. Rocks topple on Vax, which you disintegrate with a quick chromatic orb. You hear the sharp whistle of an arrow flying towards Krieg- to which it quickly stops.

“A tickle,” He laughs out. “Let me return the favor.”

“..Shit.” Vex curses as Percy jumps out and quickly drags her away from the oncoming danger as the dragon blows another powerful burst of electricity onto the battlefield. He chases them down, Krieg’s tail smacking into Pike and knocking her into a rock, the air effectively knocked out of her lungs.

“Fools! I’ll devour you all!” Krieg roars out in anger.

Scanlan runs from yet another beam of energy that follows him closely, shouting for help from Pike. She jumps in front of him with her shield, blocking the energy effectively for mere moments before they’re blown away into more rubble.

Krieg flies up and looks for targets, and he quickly aims for Keyleth as she emerges from her vined dome. She lets out a swear and jumps out of the way.

Percy begins shooting the dragon and missing as it flies around. “Vax! Did Gilmore give you any insight on how to kill this thing or did you two flirt the whole time?” Percy shouts angrily across the battlefield, a hail mary in hopes Vax could hear him among the commotion. Truly brave to say such a thing in the near death situation at hand.

“Shit. Right, right. Uh- Dragons are vain, arrogant and hate being insulted!” Vax shouts out in a panic.

“No you fucking idiot! To kill them! The river thing!” You shout back, shaking his shoulders slightly, as if trying to shake the answer out of him like a gumball out of a gumball machine.

Krieg dives in between us, quickly splitting the two of you apart as we jump away from one another to avoid being hit. Grog lets out a scream as he jumps up and slashes in an attempt to hit Krieg, but misses.

“It doesn’t matter. We can’t do shit if it’s in the air!” Pike shouts out.

“Wheres the twin rivers meet.. The neck! You see that? We have to get it on the ground! Vex, do you hear me?” Vax shouts out to his sister.

“Yes! This way. I’ve got a plan.” The party follows Vex and Vax, frantically jumping over rocks to listen to her plan.

“Aw, another one?” Scanlan complains.

“Shut up!” Vex shouts angrily at him.

The dragon breathes out more lightning, and Vex tells the party her plan as they run away from it.

“Look, okay, for once, you were right. Maybe we don’t fight as one. Maybe we do what we do best.”

“What? We have no best!” Keyleth shouts in shock.

Krieg cackles and the party hides behind the temporary safety of a rock.

“So, what do you want us to do? Run out and yell ‘Hey, dragon man, we don’t know what the fuck we’re doing’?”

Vex nods.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” You groan out distastefully for the plan, realizing what it was.

The party positions themselves around the cave, you hiding behind a rock, focusing on an illusion spell.

“Ha! You think you can hide in my lair?” Krieg laughs out, his steps pounding on the floor as he walks closer to your illusion.

The fog clears atop the rock and reveals Vox Machina- minus you.

The illusion of Grog pushes past Percy. “Hey, taint smear!”

“You’re in my way again, you ape!” The illusion of Percy spits out at Grog.

You imitate Vox Machina’s banter atop the rock, bluffing as the illusioned party breaks into shambles as they argue. You giggle to yourself as you imitate Percy, your giggles heard through the voices of the illusions, very quickly.

“If the two of you would shut up already and let me kill this inflated windbag!” Your illusion of Vex spits out, aiming her bow at Krieg.

“Kill me? I am the iron storm. You are nothing but insects!” He growls, and lets out another massive and powerful ray of thunder through his mouth, directly hitting your illusions, and they remain standing- but are shrouded in the smoke of the blast. You hold your head in pain, but stay silent to avoid revealing the illusions.

He laughs out. “Pathetic.”

As the mist finally clears, the illusions reveal themselves unharmed.

“What? Impossible!” Krieg shouts in anger as a purple mist surrounds the illusions, finally dissipating them.

Scanlan clears his throat. “Gotcha.”

“Now!” Vex shouts desperately as the party begins running out- Keyleth holding down Krieg with vines, Percy shooting down the cave’s ceiling spikes which fall into Krieg’s wings, Vax runs through the rubble as rocks follow around him, and Scanlan’s magic hand punches one that would have fell and crushed him. He quickly picks him up and throws him at the dragon.

“Scanlan’s hand!”

Vax jumps onto the dragon and runs his dagger down it’s neck and all the way to it’s throat, slicing it in one swipe. It splashes and sputters blood out, letting out a groan of pain.

Pike casts guidance on Vex, “Light him up Vex!” She shouts, as Vex promptly shoots several arrows at the now exposed throat.

Krieg falls to the ground in a fit of pain. “I will sunder your bones!”

“Look who’s nice and low?” Vex tells Grog, to which he sneers and runs towards Krieg.

“I would like to rage!” Grog shouts, now entering a state of absolute enraged blindness, moves closer and closer to Krieg.

Grog slams Krieg’s head into the cave floor and a large shock of electricity runs through the cave- in the death of the dragon.

The party looks towards Grog- who stands in front of Krieg’s sliced in half dragon head.

Grog groans with one eye closed, which probably got blood in it. “Uh. Is he dead?”

Keyleth laughs in relief. “We did that! We did that right?”

“It seems being a bunch of assholes has it’s merits.” Percy replies, just as relieved as Keyleth.

Still leaning against the rock you summoned the illusions on, you don’t notice when Vax sticks out a hand for you, as your eyes were closed and you were resting your head in pain.

“Come on. We did it, mostly thanks to you.” Vax speaks wholeheartedly to you, and you grab his hand with a weak smile, stumbling as you stand. He lets out a worried ‘oh’ and puts his hand around your waist as you put your arm around his shoulder- the same way Percy had caught you at your first encounter with Krieg. The two of you stumble back towards the party.

Grog pulls out the dragon’s tooth.

“Souvenir?” Scanlan asks.

Grog laughs. “Proof we killed the scaley turd.”

“Huh. You know, you’re a lot smarter than we give you credit for Grog.”

“Yep. I’m a genius.”

The cave suddenly starts falling apart from around you, obviously shaken from the battle fought. A portal opens, and Vax quickly changes the way he holds you- sweeping you off your feet and running with you, an arm under your leg and an arm supporting your back as your arms wrap around his neck tightly.

“Exit strategy?” Pike shouts.

“Run!” Vex responds.

“Wait! The loot!” Scanlan runs, carrying several spell scrolls and piles of gold. He trips, and Keyleth quickly grabs him with her vines, throwing him through the portal.

Vax quickly flicks a coin into the cave. “We got him, kid.”

“Vax! Please, lets go!” You pull on him, trying to persuade him through the portal, sorry for interrupting the sweet gesture, but not keen on losing your life over a coin.

Walking through the portal, the party arrives back at the portrait.

“Vax. You can put me down now.” You tell him, his grip on you still tight.

“Oh- Right. Sorry.” He responds awkwardly, realizing what he was doing as he delicately sets you down.

“You know it was just my head that hurt right? You didn’t need to pick me up- I’m sure I could have stumbled over.” You question him.

His face is powdered with only a faint blush. “Well.. there was no need to run that risk.”

.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻

“Vox Machina,” Uriel’s voice booms through the room. “For your selfless heroism, I proclaim you all protectors of the realm.. And honorary members of the council of Tal’Dorei.”

The entire party widens their eyes in shock, but you smile. You could only hope this tale would be heard back to Envonium, and your parents would be proud of your journey thus far.. Of course, you would have to hope that you were considered part of Vox Machina first, but that will come with time.

“I know. I can hardly believe it myself.” The council laughs among themselves.

“Oh how I’ve missed respectability.” Percy sighs out.

“Oh how I’ve missed it!” You respond giddily, shaking him in the same way you did Vax, but this time with a huge smile on your face. It was nice to have something in common with someone in the party- and always nicer for it to be a childhood friend. You go from shaking him to a tight hug with a small squeal of excitement. You let go quickly once Vex starts talking, still smiling.

“Yes, yes, yes, that's all fine and good but where is the-” Vex is interrupted as they place the thick, heavy, golden box in front of the party. “Ah. There we are.”

She opens it happily as Scanlan chuckles. “Payday.”

Their smiles disappear when they’re met with parchment and keys. “Keys? Parchment?” Scanlan questions. “Where's our reward?”

“You’re holding it,” Uriel responds. “They deed to your new keep- here in Emon. We need our protectors close at hand to, you know, protect.”

“Uh-huh. Uh, hypothetical question- if we sold it, how much do you think that.. Okay.” Scanlan stops talking when he’s met with the disgruntled faces of the council.

Vex takes the paper from Scanlan.

“Sister.. We have a home.” Vax says somberly.

“Wait till I tell my father! Oh, the Ashari will never believe this. I bet.. I’m ruining a moment right now aren’t I. Yep. I’m just gonna go over.. here.” Keyleth awkwardly walks away from Vax and Vex, and walks to you, where the two of you are practically(and literally) jumping for joy over your accomplishments, and how your people would react.

“As protectors, you must understand that the threat is far from over.” Uriel begins again. “We suspect Krieg may have been part of a larger plot. As such, I have arranged an important banquet to discuss the security of our realm. It’ll be quite delightful, really. We have a wonderful cook.”

“We trust you will all attend. In fact, several dignitaries should be on their way as we speak.” The blonde human council member beside Uriel explains.

I turn to Percy happily. “Do you think Envonium got invited? Ugh, it’s been forever since I’ve seen my auntie, father, and mother!” You list your family members happily, holding Percy’s hands in your hands thinking about it happily. He seemed to be uneasy from the conversation, so you quickly dropped it with a smile, and followed your party back to the dusty keep.

#x reader #percy de rolo #vox machina #percival de rolo #percy de rolo x reader #the legends of vox machina #vax'ildan #vax x reader #vex and vax #the legend of vox machina x reader #love triangle #i tried #wrote while half asleep #the people crave percy #and sometimes Vax i guess #percy x reader #vax'ildan x reader #PERCHANCE LOVE?

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cozage · 1 year

Text

The Daughter's Return: Part 3

Chapter 3: Changes

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 3.2k

Ace was with you in your dreams, standing and staring at the sea.

“Where do we go from here?” you asked, looking at him.

His brows knitted together in confusion. “What do you mean? Dinner’s on the stove. The baby is still asleep, so-”

“The baby?”

Ace laughed. “Our baby. Don’t you remember?”

“I-” Canonfire in the distance cut off your sentence, and you could see fear all over Ace's face.

“Go hide,” he said. “I’ll hold them off.”

You raced to the house in the distance; somehow you knew it was yours. You felt nauseous at the thought of being so careless. Of leaving your child alone.

You were at the front door, stomach churning full of worry, when you woke with a start. Unfortunately, the nausea carried over from the dream.

Ace woke to your clamoring over him, racing to the bathroom. You barely made it before you began dry heaving into the toilet, only bile coming up. You had thrown everything else up the night before.

Ace quickly joined you, patting your back and holding you steady.

“Y/N,” Ace said.

“I know.” A pit formed in your stomach. You knew what was coming, knew how your life was going to change. “Let’s go see Marco.”

He gave you a smile of relief, thankful he wasn’t going to have to fight you on the matter.

But it didn’t really matter anymore. You knew what was making you sick. And there wasn’t a cure for it. Not an easy one, at least.

The two of you walked hand in hand to the clinic, where Marco was working in his office.

“Hi,” you said, smiling at him nervously. “You can run your stupid tests now.”

“You’re still sick?” Marco asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

“She threw up last night after dinner and this morning,” Ace answers, helping you sit on the examination table.

Marco sighed, and you could tell he was disappointed that you let this go on for so long. “Any nausea?” He snapped on his gloves and prepared some vials for blood drawing. “Fever?”

“Yes,” you answered. “To both, I think.”

Marco raised an eyebrow, shooting a look at Ace, but Ace only shrugged.

Marco handed you a sea prism stone to hold while he took your blood, and you suddenly felt very drained. The sea prism was the only way for devil fruit users to get their blood drawn effectively, but you still hated the process.

He hooked you up to a monitor, and gave you a liquid IV to help with your fluids, and then drew some blood from your arm.

It was quick and painless, but you could feel your stomach churning with anticipation at the results. Your life was about to shift. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

A piece of you was still hopeful. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe you really were just sick. But on the other hand, a baby was something that you could be excited for. And dread. You weren’t sure which answer you hoped for, and you considered flipping Izou’s coin to find out.

“Should have preliminary results in about two hours. So just rest and-”

“Marco!” A panicked voice screamed as a man entered the clinic, his eyes desperately searching for the first commander. “We need you. Now.”

The urgency in his voice made your heart rate spike, and the monitor next to your bed began to beep excessively.

“What’s going on?” He asked, turning off the machine. An eerie silence covered the room for a moment.

“It’s bad,” he said. “It’s Thatch. He’s-”

You didn’t hear the rest of it. You ripped the wires and tubes from your body and took off across the ship, sprinting as fast as you could across the deck.

You followed the crowd, pushing your way through and burning people to force them to let you through. You were heading for the commander’s hall. The sea of people got thicker, but you continued pushing, pushing, pushing.

Suddenly you saw Izou and Curiel standing in front of the crowd, blocking anyone from going any further.

“What’s happening?” you yelled, trying to make your voice heard over the panic happening around you.

“Turn around,” Izou said strictly. “Go back to the deck and wait.”

“Like hell!” you screamed, pushing past Izou. “Let me through! Let me see him!”

Curiel grabbed your arm and pushed you back into the sea of people. “Go back!” he shouted. “Just listen for once!”

“No!” you screamed, pushing again. This time when Curiel grabbed you, you turned your temperature as high as it could go, burning him the instant he touched you.

You took the split second he pulled away to dart between the two men and broke through their barrier, rushing towards the commander's hall. Rushing towards Thatch.

Fossa grabbed you as you sprinted through the common room, racing for Thatch’s room. You tried to burn him as well, but he resisted your heat with armament haki and held you firm in his grip.

“Trust me kid, just stay put.” His voice was tight, and it made you pause. You had never seen Fossa show fear or pain, but it was written all over his face now.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. “What happened?” you asked.

Jozu and Vista emerged from Thatch’s room with solemn looks on their faces. They shook their heads.

“He’s gone,” Vista said. “Looks like it happened last night. He’s been like that for a while.”

“Dude,” Fossa hissed, tightening his grip as you tried to break free.

“Let me go,” You shrieked, and everyone seemed to simultaneously realize you were there.

“Fuck, kid.” Jozu’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here? How’d you get through?”

“Thatch!” you screamed, still desperately trying to pull free from Fossa’s grip. “Let me go! Thatch!”

Marco suddenly appeared behind you, and Ace following closely behind him.

“Where is he?” they both asked, searching the crowd.

“Marco-” Vista glanced over at you. “He’s in here. Let’s talk somewhere else.”

“How bad is it?” Marco asked.

Vista and Jozu just shook their heads, and Marco’s entire body deflated in defeat.

No. If Marco was giving up, then it was bad. Your heart rate drummed in your chest, sending your body into survival mode.

You kicked Fossa in the shin, and then punched him in the stomach. You knew you should’ve apologized, but you didn’t care. You only cared about Thatch.

His grip slackened from the pain, and you yanked your arm out of his grip, dashing towards Thatch’s room.

“No!” Jozu shouted, trying to grab you. But you were too quick, and you skillfully dodged away and in through the door.

The moment you stepped inside, you could smell death. You froze, your blood running ice cold, but your eyes scanned the room.

It was a scene of horror, you quickly realized. The blood across the mattress was dark and partially dried. And Thatch…oh Thatch. His once jolly and bright face was now pale and dull, his skin looking more like wax than flesh. Deep lacerations covered his entire chest, his shirt covered in tears and cuts. This was a personal and brutal attack. An attack against a person you loved so dearly.

It was too late. You knew that. You weren’t stupid. The amount of blood alone was enough for you to know. Thatch was dead. He had been for a while.

“No,” you whispered, tears filling your eyes. “Who did this to you?”

You sat next to him on the bloodied bed, not caring about dirtying your clothes. Nothing mattered. Thatch was gone.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered, tears streaming out of your eyes and down your cheeks. “I think. Ace doesn’t know. We were about to find out, but then-” you choked on your words, starting to sob now.

“Where is he?” Your father’s voice boomed as he stepped in the door. He saw you sitting on the bed, sobbing as you looked over at him. You quickly wiped your eyes, trying to pull yourself together.

“Please don’t make me go.” Your voice broke as you spoke, your eyes silently pleading with him. “Please let me stay.”

Your father looked at you for a few moments, and then nodded in acceptance.

He turned to the men at the door. “Everyone needs to report to their rooms and stay there until further notice. Commanders, enforce it. Anyone who disobeys is disobeying a direct order from me.”

Fossa and Vista stared at you, waiting for you to move and follow orders. But you couldn’t move away from Thatch. You couldn’t leave him.

“She’s fine,” your father said. “Leave us.”

The men left you alone with your father, who said nothing as he watched you.

It was all you could do to keep it together. You couldn’t start crying again. If your father had any suspicion you wouldn’t be able to handle this, he’d send you away. And you couldn’t leave Thatch.

“He was alone all night,” you whispered. “Nobody even knew.”

“Curiel said he heard some commotion late last night.” Your father sighed, covering his face with his hand. “He just thought it was Thatch coming in drunk.”

He was crying. You had been around him enough to be able to tell from the slight change in his voice. But you didn’t say anything. If you spoke anymore, you probably would start crying again as well.

Instead, you reached out and grabbed Thatch’s hand. Even if he was gone, you wanted him to know you were here.

That’s when you found it. A few black, wiry hairs, firmly gripped in his fist.

You let out an involuntary gasp, pieces starting to click into place. You had passed the murderer last night, and he had said something about a dream. A dream that involved a devil fruit.

“Teach.” You breathed out. “It was Teach.”

Whitebeard stared at the hairs. “That’s a big accusation, Y/N. You might want to go off more than-“

“We passed him in the hallway last night,” you said. “He said something about being closer to his goal. He-”

You scanned the room, and then got up and began searching all of Thatch’s drawers and cabinets.

“It’s not here,” you mumbled, your voice raising in panic. “It’s not here!”

“Y/N,” Whitebeard said. “What isn’t-”

“Thatch’s devil fruit!” you screeched, your hysteria rising. “His devil fruit is gone! The one he found!”

There’s no way Teach would kill for one fruit. There were plenty of them on the Grand Line. You had found one and offered it to him once before, but he turned it down. What could he want with a simple purple fruit?

“He killed-” you broke into a sob, unable to contain yourself, still slamming drawers as you searched. “He killed him over a fruit? No. No! There has to be more! There has to be another reason! His death can’t be so meaningless that it’s over a stupid fruit!”

You fell to your knees and covered your face and cried, unable to contain yourself. You could feel your body temperature rising, steam emitting from you. You could feel yourself gasping for air, just trying to breathe. The room was closing in on you.

None of this was fair. Thatch was a good person. And now he was dead. There had to be a bigger reason.

“Marco! I need you in here!” Your father called, and the medic rushed in. You saw him stagger at the door as he assessed the scene that laid out in front of him, and then he kneeled down next to you.

“We need to get you out of this room, kid.” Marco said. His voice was even, but you could see tears in his eyes. “It’s not good for-”

“I can’t leave him,” you sobbed, pulling away from him and trying to crawl back towards the bed. “He never left me. I can’t- Marco. I can’t-'' You clutched at your chest, your breaths becoming low and rapid. You could feel yourself hyperventilating as you began to think about your future without Thatch. He had always been there. You didn’t know life without him. You didn’t want to.

You knew you had to calm yourself down. Slow, long breaths were what you were supposed to be doing, but you couldn’t get enough air to do them. If you kept panicking like this, you wouldn't be any help to anyone. And yet, Thatch was dead, and you felt like your heart was going to explode.

“Ace,” you heard your father call, and your eyes waited at the doorway for him to appear.

Ace suddenly appeared, his eyes focused on you. “Yes sir?”

Marco took out a needle and flicked it a few times. “This might pinch a little bit.”

“She’ll be fine. Go look in your division cabins for Teach,” Whitebeard said. “I want an immediate report.”

Ace nodded. You could see his eyes full of pain before looking back at your father. “Yes sir.”

You felt a small pinch, and the world went black.

Only a few minutes must’ve passed, because when you woke up, there was still chaos. You were now out in the commander’s common room, laying down on the couch. You kept your eyes closed at first, trying to listen for any reports.

“Pops, I know what they both said they saw, but Teach is one of our oldest members,” Blamenco whispered. “And he was under division two. There's something to be said about-”

“Blamenco, son.” Your father’s voice was dangerous. “Be very careful about how you proceed with that sentence.”

“Well-” Blamenco stammered, trying to backtrack. “I wasn’t insinuating anything. I was just…”

“Division One is accounted for,” Marco said. You could hear his footsteps approaching you. “Is she awake yet? I didn’t give her much.”

“Not yet.” Ace’s voice was soft, and you almost flinched. You hadn’t realized he was there. “So every division is accounted for except for ours.”

“And only one person is missing from your division?” Your father clarified.

“Yeah. Teach.”

“I’m going,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes as you opened them.

“Now hang on-” Marco said. “Nobody said anything about-”

“Teach didn’t follow the rules, and he killed a commander. He killed a brother.” Ace stood to his feet. “I’m going to make it right. I’ll be back soon.”

You grabbed his hand as he walked away, pulling him back to you. “I’m going,” you said more firmly.

“I dunno, Ace.” Your father looked around the room nervously. “I think we need to let it go. I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”

So did you, to be honest. Something felt off. But you had to get justice for Teach. If you showed even a sign of doubt, Ace would go without you.

“We can’t let Teach get away with this,” you argued. “It’s our code. There has to be consequences.”

Your father frowned, looking at the two of you. “It’s a bad idea.”

“So Thatch will never get justice?!” Ace shouted. He was finally starting to crack, you could see it. But you wouldn’t comment on it until later, when you were alone.

“Please, dad,” you begged. “The two of us can do it.”

Ace whipped his head around and looked at you, baffled by your words. “You are not going.”

“Like hell! Yes I am!”

“No. You’re not.”

“Yes I am!” You scoffed. “What happened to being equals like you promised?”

You saw your father and Marco shoot a look of “I told you so” to Ace, but they said nothing.

Ace shook his head. “I’ll take care of Teach. I’m his division commander.”

“And I’m your strategist. So unless you have a plan, I’m coming.”

“I’d actually feel better if the two of you went,” your father admitted, but his eyes were directly on Ace. “Just keep each other safe.”

“Deal,” you said. You understood what he meant. Ace was reckless and preferred to do things the dangerous way. It would be up to you to protect him. You could do that. You would keep him alive, no matter what.

The two of you quickly prepared a small amount of rations and clothes and grabbed a few thousand berries, and then you jumped into Ace’s Striker. You just had to get into the water, and then those results from Marco’s tests wouldn’t matter anymore. You could ignore them for another week or so. This would probably be your last mission for a while, but at least it was with Ace.

“Let’s go,” you said, and you began to be lowered down.

Marco’s eyes widened as he saw you leaving, realization hitting him. “Wait! Pops, hang on! Don’t let her go!”

“Stop!” Your father called. “Marco, what it is?”

The ropes stopped their descent. You knew if Marco saw those results, you wouldn’t get off the ship again for at least another year. You couldn’t bear the thought of Ace doing this without you. You needed to do this. For Thatch.

You reached up and burned the ropes, dropping you and Ace down into the sea below. Ace shot you a confused look as the two of you struggled to hold on to the small boat as it collided with the water.

“Did you forget we’ll drown if we fall in!?” Ace shouted.

“Go!” you yelled back. Ace heard the urgency in your voice and immediately obeyed, roaring the engine to life and kicking the two of you off into the horizon.

You couldn’t look back. You knew you’d only see disappointment, and people arguing whether they should stop you or not.

You managed to keep your nausea under control, only throwing up over the boat once, so discreetly that Ace didn’t even notice it. It was clear he was deep in thought, his mind a million miles from you.

The two of you were silent for almost half the day. It wasn’t until the sun was setting that Ace spoke.

“Wanna tell me why you burned the ropes?” He pulled out a sandwich and handed you half, but you declined. It didn’t feel right eating food that wasn’t made by Thatch, and you still felt sick to your stomach.

You knew you had to tell him. It wasn’t fair to keep this information from him. Even if you could keep it from the crew, you couldn’t keep it from Ace.

And yet, you knew once he found out, everything would change. He would be angry and hurt, he may not even want you around anymore. You weren’t ready for the repercussions of that yet.

“Marco wouldn’t have let me leave if he checked those test results. And I need to be on this mission. I need to-” your voice broke, and you couldn’t bring yourself to continue talking about it.

The boat engine died, and you could feel Ace’s eyes on you, full of worry. “You’re really starting to scare me,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“It might be nothing.”

Ace bit his lip, clearly wanting to argue, but he decided against it. “There’s an island not too far from here. We’ll reach it by tonight. We’ll go to the clinic first thing tomorrow to have a doctor check on you.”

“Okay,” you whispered. A pit in your stomach formed, knowing you couldn’t keep up your facade much longer. You could only hope that Ace wouldn’t loathe you when he found out.

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @nyxthedragon01 @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598 @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes @appalost @zuchkaa @saybeyonce @stray-npc @kitsunechan707 @theyluvmesblog @heartysworld

(if you'd like to be included in the tag list, just comment or send me a message!)

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #cozage #✧˚ace✧˚

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bl00d-bunny · 2 years

Text

rock bottom - lip gallagher

-pairing- lip gallagher x fem!reader

-summary- after bumping into lip on the street, you catch up and realize lip isn't doing too good. for this request here

-warnings- angst, vomit/throwing up, alcohol abuse, smoking (w33d), drinking, shameless activities lol,

-word count- 2k

Friday nights for you were always the same. After clocking out at work, you’d stop at your local shop to buy a pack of smokes and some beers before heading home to your couch. You liked the routine, it was like self-care to you. Instead of spending the weekend partying as you used to, you’d spend the weekend alone, watching sitcom reruns with a beer.

As soon as you stepped out of work you were on autopilot. You knew what to expect, Friday nights were always the same. You’d get the train, then walk to the same shop, wave at the same shopkeeper, walk to the same fridge, and get the same beer, before walking to the counter to buy the same smokes and then walk the same five minutes to your apartment.

You liked the repetition, it was a time for your brain to switch off, almost like meditation. As you paid the shopkeeper, whose name you really should know by now, you heard the bell at the door. You thanked the shopkeeper, like always, and stuffed your change into your purse.

Someone bumped into your back, sending the coins in your hand skidding across the counter. Picking up the coins you see their beige jacket heading for the booze, you roll your eyes.

Unfortunately, this was also part of your routine, living in a not-so-nice neighborhood meant that there were always junkies, or drunks, in their own world focused on their next fix. You didn’t mind them in all honesty, although you wished they had a better sense of direction.

You are clumsy enough as it is, you didn’t need any more help with being knocked over. Making sure you had all your money, you waved to the shopkeeper before heading out.

Outside the shop, you wrapped your coat across your chest hoping to keep the cold air out as you opened your new packet of cigarettes. Pulling a lighter out of your pocket, you spark a cigarette. You hear the shop bell not far behind you, pocketing your lighter you start to head for home.

You aren’t far from the shop when you hear a voice behind you, “Mind if I bum one of those?”

You turn to find the owner of the beige jacket behind you, but under the glow of the street lamps, you can’t be sure you recognise them.

“Lip?” You take a step closer trying to verify that it’s really him. It’s his smile that confirms it.

You hadn’t seen him in a while, last you heard he was at college but looking at him now, in the middle of the street, shop lights illuminating him, he didn’t look himself. Maybe it was just the stress of college, but he looked tired and worn, his skin pale, accentuating the dark bags under his eyes.

Pulling a fresh cigarette from the pack you both move closer, handing it to him you grab your lighter from your pocket. Instead of handing him the lighter, you light it, letting the orange flame dance between you. He leans forward, cigarette between his lips inhaling to ignite it.

It’s then you smell it, the sharp smell of alcohol. He smelt of stale cheap alcohol and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on, it was sweet and sour at the same time.

He took a step back, exhaling he thanked you. You shrugged it off, back in the day you two would share cigarettes without even asking. Then you both just stood there, in the smokey silence. You didn’t know what to say, what do you say after it's been so long?

Before you knew what you were saying you invited him back to your place for a beer. You weren’t sure it was the best idea considering you could already smell alcohol on him but you hadn’t seen him in so long and you didn’t know when or if you’d see him again. You could tell he was thinking the same thing, taking his time before he responded. He accepted almost reluctantly.

The two of you walked the short walk to your apartment in silence, the only contact you had was Lip occasionally bumping into you before mumbling an apology. You spent the time trying to think of what to say. You wanted to ask how he was doing but it was clear he wasn’t doing good.

Opening the door to your apartment you immediately regret inviting him over, your place was a mess, and you can’t even remember the last time you cleaned.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” you scrambled to put the dirty dishes in the sink and the trash in the garbage.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs.

Settling opposite each other at the kitchen table you crack open a beer before passing him one, maybe a drink will bring back the sarcastic, flirty Lip you remember. God knows you need a drink.

“So, how have you been, I heard you were at college?” You finally ask, ripping off the metaphorical band-aid.

He looks into his can of beer, not saying anything. Maybe you could have asked that a bit better.

“I- err I was kicked out,” he finally said not looking up.

“Oh,” was all you could say.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he shrugged, “I mean I didn’t really want to go in the first place.”

Unsure of what to say, you sip your beer in silence.

“What about you?” He asked looking up from the can between his hands, “I mean you have your own place now,” he glanced around your space.

“Yeah,” you smiled, you loved having your own place, “I’m working at this office uptown, honestly I hate it but you know I’ve got bills to pay,” you tried to keep the conversation going but knew he didn’t want to talk about your crappy job.

“You still smoke weed, right?” Before he could answer you answered for him, “Of course you do, who am I kidding?” You laughed.

Walking to your room you grabbed your stash and made your way back to the kitchen table. Placing your rolling tray down you handed Lip the joint you had rolled before work and began rolling yourself one. You knew a little weed would get the conversation following, the two of you would smoke all summer long before life got in the way.

After a few joints and more beer, the conversation was going just fine, almost like the old days. He told you everything his family had been up to, and you complained about work and your jerk ex-boyfriend.

Somewhere along the way, the conversation deepened, and Lip opened up to you. He told you why he got kicked out of college, that he’s been drinking uncontrollably and he doesn’t remember the last time he’d been home. It broke your heart to see him like this.

Growing up on the southside you knew not everyone would make it out but if you were placing bets, you would’ve bet on him.

Seeing him so lost and broken, it was like looking at a stranger. You tried your best to comfort him but honestly, comfort was never your strong suit.

You were about to roll another joint when you heard the birds chirping outside. You checked your phone before looking out the window. Sure enough, the sky was lightening every so slightly. When you turned to Lip he was pocketing his phone having just checked the time himself.

“Shit, I’m sorry for staying so long, I’ll get going,” he stood wiping the few stray tears from his face.

“Don’t be sorry,” you stood as well, you didn’t want him to leave especially not like this.

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom before I go?”

You pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and began clearing away the empty cans while trying to think of something more to say to him. Once the cans were away and Lip wasn’t back you pottered about tidying up here and there.

When he still didn’t emerge you went to check up on him. Outside the bathroom, you heard nothing, you knocked on the door.

“Lip?” you pressed your ear against the door but still heard nothing.

Twisting the doorknob, the door didn’t open. It should have opened, the lock has been busted since you moved in.

Calling out to him you used all your body weight to try to open the door. You were able to push it just far enough open for you to slip inside, the door slamming forcefully shut behind you.

There on your bathroom floor is Lip Gallagher. He is curled up on the cold tile floor his feet blocking the door. You immediately checked his pulse and breathing, thankfully he has just passed out. And thrown up, there's puke in the toilet and some on the seat. Before attempting to wake him you get a large glass of water and prepare a cold washcloth.

Back in the bathroom, you wipe the puke from his chin before gently shaking him awake. He is barely conscious as he sits up leaning against the bath. You force him to have some water before you quickly clean the toilet.

Now that he is sitting up you notice he has some sick on his coat, that he never took off in the hours he was here. Taking it off and tossing it to the side you realize why there is vomit dried and crusted on his shirt. You close your eyes feeling your heart break even more.

You place your hand on his cheek and look at him, his face pale and sweaty. “What happened, Lip?” you ask knowing he won't answer.

Taking off his shirt, you toss it with his coat to be washed later. Standing you try to wake him enough to get him into bed, he is barely awake by the time you get him to stand up and guide him to the bedroom.

In the bedroom, he flops onto your bed. You remove his shoes and pull his legs onto the bed. Tucking him up in the bed, he begins to snore quietly, you make sure he is on his side and pull your trashcan close in case he needs to vomit again.

Back in the bathroom you put his clothes in the washing machine and took the cup of water to the bedside. You watched Lip sleep for a moment, he finally looked peaceful. You turn to the cupboard to get a blanket and some pillows, so you can sleep on the couch.

“Y/n?” you turn to see Lip hasn’t moved save for opening his eyes.

“Just sleep, Lip,” you close the cupboard and move for the door. “I’ll be on the couch.”

“Will you stay with me?” you can barely make out his face in the dark, “please.”

Without saying a word you close the bedroom door, dropping the pillows and blanket at the foot of the bed. Lip shuffles over, making space for you. Once you are in the bed, he snuggles into you, resting his head on your chest. You stroke his hair as you listen to his steady breathing.

When he's finally asleep you place a kiss on his head, “we will fix this, I don’t how but we will. I promise.”

#bunny writes #shameless #shameless imagine #shameless us #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher fanfic #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher #lip gallgher angst

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forest-hashira · 9 months

Text

Noble Blood - Chapter One

well guys.... it's finally here! the first chapter of the AU that has consumed my brain for the last few months. we're starting out with everyone as little kiddos, but i promise most of the fic will actually be after a timeskip, so the main players will all be in their 20s. for more context for this AU, you can check out the "dragon rider au" tag on my blog!

cw: gender neutral reader, some little kid shenanigans, that's about it for this first chapter really | wc: 4.4k | read on ao3 here

Footsteps hitting cobblestones and heavy breathing were the only sounds that filled your ears as you raced across the village, determined to reach your destination as soon as possible. The chilly weather had kept most people indoors, but you had an important task to accomplish, and you would not be deterred by cold wind – even if your mother had insisted on wrapping you up in the warmest coat you had before letting you leave the house.

You spotted your destination soon enough, a smile brightening your expression as you closed the remaining distance to the building. Leaning all the weight of your little body into the door, you pushed it open, taking in a deep breath as the smell of the bakery greeted you.

“Good morning, Nanami-san!” you called, pushing the door shut before walking over to the counter, where your friend’s mother was smiling kindly down at you, her hair tied back messily from her face, a little bit of flour still dusted across her cheek from earlier that morning. Her mottled brown dragon sat obediently at her side, tail twitching in greeting. “Good morning, Cinnamon,” you added, waving politely at the dragon.

“Hello, sweetheart,” the woman replied. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s Satoru’s birthday!” you answered, unable to contain your excitement. “I came to buy him a treat.”

“Is that so?” she mused, your excitement causing her eyes to crinkle slightly in the corners. “In that case, what kind of treat were you thinking of? We have a lot to choose from.”

You nodded in response, gaze shifting to scan the shelves that held all of the baked goods. “I want to get him something sweet. He likes sweet things.”

With a nod, your friend’s mother told you all of the sweet treats you could choose from: chocolate chip cookies, shortbread cookies, pastries with apples or pears or persimmons, cinnamon buns with frosting, and small chocolate or vanilla cakes.

The number of options overwhelmed you a bit, and you could do nothing but stare at all the desserts in front of you for several moments. You were so caught up in trying to think of what to pick for your friend for his birthday that you didn’t realize anyone else had come into the room, until you heard another familiar voice call your name.

“Kento!” you said, relief washing over you as your friend stepped around the counter to join you, his hand trailing lightly across Cinnamon’s wing as he stepped around her. “What do you think Satoru would like best? I’m getting him a treat for his birthday.”

At the mention of the older boy’s name, Kento’s nose crinkled up slightly, but he took your question seriously, looking over all of the options before you. “I don’t think he likes fruit very much,” he said after a moment. “But he does really like chocolate.”

You nodded in agreement, thankful to have another friend to help organize your thoughts as you considered your options. With that knowledge in mind, you were able to narrow it down to just two choices, which made deciding much easier for you.

“Can I get some chocolate chip cookies, please?” you asked, looking back up at your friend’s mother. Your smile returned to your face as she nodded, picking up four of the cookies and wrapping them up in paper before handing them to you.

“Thank you, Nanami-san!” you said excitedly, before remembering that you needed to pay for the cookies before you could take them to Satoru. You shoved your hand into the pocket of your coat, pulling out the little coin pouch your father had given you and opening it. You poured a few coins out into your palm, counting and recounting them carefully before you offered them up to the baker; it was almost everything you had managed to save up over the past couple of months, but you were more than happy to spend it all on this gift for your friend.

Once Kento’s mother had taken the coins from you, you shoved the coin pouch back into your pocket before taking the package very carefully. “Are you going to come with us to the festival later?” you asked, turning to face Kento again. Everyone else – you, Shoko, Utahime, and Satoru – had agreed to meet up later in the day so you could all watch the fireworks show the Gojo clan was supposedly putting on for their precious heir’s birthday, and you hoped that Kento would join you; he was younger than all of you by at least a year, but he was good company, and you liked having him around.

He hesitated for a moment, then turned and looked up at his mother, who just gave him a slight shrug, though her meaning was clear: it was up to him whether he joined you and your friends or not. “Can Kokoro come too?” he asked, turning back to you after a moment of consideration.

“Yeah!” you eagerly agreed, smiling brightly. Everyone in your friend group was fond of Kento’s little sister; it was hard not to be, with how sweet she was. Having her around always made you smile, and she even seemed to bring out a more well-behaved side of Satoru than almost anyone else could. “Shoko said to meet up at her house when it gets dark and then we could go find Satoru. I’ll see you then!” You bid a quick goodbye to your friend and his mother, then rushed back out into the cold.

The Gojo estate was a little further from the heart of the town than any other residence was, and as you made your way up the path to the front gates, you were glad your mother had insisted on your thickest coat; it had begun to snow at some point while you walked, and though it wasn’t snowing hard, it was enough for you to really begin to feel the chill in the air on the skin that wasn’t protected by layers of clothing.

When you finally began to approach the gates, you were stopped by a guard; if you had looked up, you would’ve been able to spot his dragon circling the estate, keeping watch from the air, just as all the other guards’ dragons did. “State your name and your purpose,” the guard said, face serious but impassive as he stared down at you.

You introduced yourself, then held up the cookies, still carefully wrapped in the paper the baker had packaged them in. “Satoru is my friend, I’m here to give him a present for his birthday. May I see him, please?” Normally, you were inclined to behave more like Satoru, who liked demanding what he wanted from his family, rather than asking for permission, but you doubted you would be granted permission to see your friend if you acted that way this time.

The guard looked you over for a moment before apparently deciding you posed no threat, and he gave you a slight nod, taking out his key and unlocking the gate for you. He ushered you inside, closing and locking the gate behind you once again.

As you stepped onto the estate, you spotted a woman about the same age as your mother, and you recognized her as Satoru’s favorite nanny, her grey and white dragon walking figure eights around her legs. “Hello!” you called out with a wave, smiling as you walked a bit closer to her. “Do you know where Satoru is? I have a present to give him for his birthday.”

The woman looked up when you called out to her, and she smiled as she recognized you. “Good morning, love. Last I saw Satoru, he was still in his room. I doubt anyone has been able to make him leave yet. You know how he is.”

A soft giggle escaped your lips before you could stop it; you knew exactly how Satoru was. He hated early mornings – in his mind, anything before ten o’clock was “early” – and he refused to leave his bed before that time. Even after he did get out of bed, he often refused to change out of his sleep clothes to get dressed in “real” clothes for the day. You thanked the nanny for her help, then turned and raced off in the direction of Satoru’s chambers. He had almost an entire wing of the house to himself, and a large section of the gardens to go with it. The gardens on the Gojo estate had always been one of the most beautiful things to you, even in the winter, so you chose to continue your journey outside, rather than go inside and have to fuss with taking off your shoes and your coat, and have to worry about staying quiet and respectful.

It didn’t take long for you to reach Satoru’s area of the house – you’d been to the estate enough times to know your way around by now – and you hastily climbed up onto the engawa by his bedroom. You paused for a moment to catch your breath, then knocked on the wood frame of the shoji screen in front of you. “Satoru,” you called out. “Are you awake?”

“No,” came the muffled reply from within. “It’s too early, go away.”

“But it’s me, Satoru!” you insisted with a whine.

“Go away,” he repeated.

“I brought you a birthday present.”

There was a pause, then the sound of grumbling and a shuffle of fabric approaching the door. Satoru slid the door open enough to peek at you, eyes narrowed against the light of the sun, and in apparent annoyance at your insistence for him to come see you. He had a thick blue blanket wrapped around him like a cloak, and his hair was sticking up in completely unnatural directions from his sleep. “What did you bring me?”

“I don’t even get a ‘good morning’? No ‘it’s so good to see you!’?” you asked somewhat playfully, unable to help but tease your friend a little bit.

“No,” Satoru replied shortly, a small scowl on his face. “I can’t say good morning because it’s not a good morning, you woke me up early. On my birthday.”

You sighed dramatically at his words, though a small part of you did feel bad for waking Satoru up when you knew he really wasn’t a morning person. Despite your antics, you held out the paper bundle to him, and he was quick to take it from you.

It was clear that Satoru was eager to open the package and see what you’d decided to get him, but he was careful as he unwrapped it, not wanting to damage whatever was inside. When he finally opened the paper enough to see what was inside, his eyes widened, and he looked up at you in amazement. “You got me cookies?”

You nodded excitedly, grinning brightly at your friend. “Yeah! I know you like sweet stuff, and I wanted you to have something you didn’t have to share with anyone else.”

Satoru stared at you for a moment longer, then dropped his gaze back to the cookies in his hands, like he couldn’t believe they were real. “Where did you get them?”

“I bought them from Nanami-san earlier,” you said. “Kento said you probably wouldn’t like the fruit pastries, so I decided to get you the cookies. I know you like chocolate.”

“You bought them?”

“Yes.”

“For me?”

“Yes. Satoru, are you feeling okay?” You tilted your head slightly as you looked at him, your brows pinched together in concern.

He nodded slowly after a moment, looking up from his hands to meet your eyes again. “I just didn’t think anyone would get me anything,” he said quietly, and you frowned even more.

“Don’t you always get a lot of gifts from your family?” From what you could remember of his birthday the previous year, Satoru had been surrounded in gift boxes wrapped in silks and satins, everything too expensive to even consider putting something as simple as paper on the outside.

Satoru shrugged then, lowering himself carefully to sit on the floor just inside the doorway, the blanket he’d dragged with him from his bed still somehow wrapped around him. “Yeah, my family gets me stuff, and sometimes the other clans will send things, too, but it’s not anything I want, y’know? It’s always super fancy clothes I can’t sit down in because they’ll wrinkle, or books about war or politics or breeding dragons. Stupid grown up stuff.” He scowled into the middle distance, clearly not looking forward to another year with the same types of gifts. As his gaze drifted once again to the cookies in his lap, though, his scowl melted away. “This is the first time I've gotten a gift I liked. Thank you.”

Heat flooded your face despite the chill in the air; Satoru never said thank you to anybody for anything, so for him to say it to you, for something as small as birthday cookies? You were beyond surprised. After a moment, you realized he was staring up at you again, his too-blue eyes wide and full of… something you couldn’t quite name. He didn’t look upset, though, which was reassuring. “You’re welcome,” you replied, suddenly feeling a little bashful.

“I, uh, I have to go home now,” you added after a moment, giving your friend an apologetic look when he seemed to pout. “My mom told me to come straight home after I gave you your present, and if I’m late she’ll get upset. But everybody’s gonna meet at Shoko’s house tonight so we can find you for the fireworks! I’ll see you later, okay?”

He nodded, still seeming a bit disappointed over the fact that you couldn’t spend more time with him. Before he could get too lost in his own head, though, you dropped to the floor and squeezed him tight in a brief hug. “Happy birthday, Satoru,” you said quietly, then pushed yourself back to your feet, turning and racing towards the gates so you could go home like you’d promised your mother.

Because your back was turned, you failed to see the blush high on Satoru’s cheeks, and the way he smiled brightly in your direction after you left.

You hated being late. It always made you feel like you were wasting other people’s time when you were late, and even at the tender age of seven, you didn’t like making anyone wait for you like that. Luckily for you, none of your friends seemed as concerned about your tardiness as you were; Kokoro in particular seemed excited to see you, smiling brightly and waving at you enthusiastically as she clung to her brother with her other hand.

“Your mom got caught up fixing your hair again, didn’t she?” Shoko asked as you approached, before you could even apologize for holding everyone else up.

A frown tugged the corners of your lips, and you reached up to touch your hair with one hand. “Can you tell? Does it look bad?” Everyone knew your mother had the habit of fretting over every detail of your appearance whenever you attended events put on by the Gojo clan, though you never really understood why; it wasn’t like the Gojo clan cared much for children outside the family.

Utahime bumped Shoko lightly with her hip, then offered you a smile. “I think it looks really nice,” she said kindly, and you could tell that she meant it.

“Really nice!” Kokoro agreed enthusiastically, her sweet little face already a little pink from the chill in the air.

You smiled back at the youngest member of the group, though you felt your cheeks heat slightly at her earnestness, for some reason. “Okay, we’re all here now,” you said, turning your attention back to Shoko. “We should probably find Satoru before his parents lock him down.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and together you headed off to the center of town, ducking and weaving your way between adults lingering around food stalls and talking loudly amongst each other, though everyone’s dragons for the most part stayed out of your way, not eager to be jostled but a bunch of children. You kept an eye out for your friend’s shock of white hair as you navigated through the festivities, but you couldn’t quite catch a glimpse of him. You were so focused on your search, in fact, that you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt someone wrap their arms around your waist and lift you a couple inches off the ground.

“Found you!” Satoru cheered, and even without being able to see his face yet, you could tell he had an impish grin plastered across his lips.

“Satoru, please put them down before you cause a scene,” Utahime sighed, and when you looked over at her, you could already see a hint of annoyance in her features.

“Who cares if I cause a scene? It’s my birthday,” Satoru replied indignantly, but he did set you back down on your own two feet.

Once you were free from your friend’s surprise embrace, you turned to face him, and you were able to see his grin return in real time. It looked like maybe someone had tried to slick his hair back into some sort of more refined style, but he had managed to get it back to its usual fluffy, slightly messy state. He was dressed in a silk kimono – real silk, the expensive kind that your parents would likely never be able to afford – that was a pretty shade of light blue, dragonflies dancing across the fabric in a slightly darker shade of blue. The fabric seemed so thin you had to wonder how he wasn’t shivering.

“You look nice,” you told him, taking a moment to straighten your own kimono from where it had gotten twisted when he’d grabbed you.

“I always look nice,” he replied, looking a bit smug. When he caught Kento scowling and Utahime rolling her eyes at him, though, he added, “But thank you. You look nice too.”

“When do the fireworks start?” Kokoro asked, sounding like she was about to burst from the anticipation.

Satoru turned to her with a grin as he answered. “Pretty soon,” he told her. “And I have the perfect place for us to see them, without anyone else getting in the way. You wanna go?”

“Yeah!” she cheered, then seemed to mellow out a bit and follow it up with a “Please can we go?” You could only assume her brother had squeezed her hand to remind her of her manners.

Her reaction almost seemed to make Satoru’s chest puff up with pride, and he nodded eagerly. “Yep! Everyone follow me!” Without any further warning, he took off across the town center, leaving the rest of you to scramble to keep up with him.

“Satoru!” you called after him, trying your hardest to catch up to him, somehow managing not to trip or step on anyone’s feet, though you did get squawked at by a few dragons. “Satoru, slow down!”

You surged forward a few more steps, managing to close the space between you enough to grab his hand in your own, thankfully causing him to slow down a bit as he turned to look at you.

“Slowpoke,” he teased, and you just stuck your tongue out at him. When someone took your other hand, though, you turned, seeing a somewhat breathless Utahime clutching your hand, Shoko on her other side, followed by Kento, then Kokoro bringing up the rear, everyone looking a bit red in the face from the sudden sprint across the festival.

Seemingly satisfied that everyone was with him now, Satoru began leading the way again, though this time at a blessedly slower pace that made keeping up with him much easier.

He led everyone through the festival, all the way out of the town center and towards the peach orchard that occupied a good chunk of the space between the town and the Gojo estate.

“You’re not expecting us to climb trees in our nice kimonos, are you?” Utahime asked, sounding somewhat horrified at the idea. She stopped in her tracks then, bringing everyone else to a halt as well, either to avoid crashing into her or to not wind up dragging her across the orchard.

Satoru turned, a frown on his face as he looked over at her. “What? Of course not, I’m not stupid,” he said, clearly offended by her words.

Utahime continued to stare at him, unconvinced.

“I’m not!” he insisted, his frown pinching into a full-on scowl.

“If we’re not climbing the trees,” you cut in, not wanting this to escalate into an argument. “Then where are we going to watch the show?”

“The observation deck,” Satoru answered, as if it were obvious, before pulling everyone along behind him once again. It didn’t take long to reach the observation deck, and you all stared up at it for a moment; the platform was almost level with the treetops, which meant there was a completely unobstructed view of the sky.

“Is it safe?” a small voice asked, and you turned to see Kokoro clinging a bit tighter to her brother, her brows furrowed with worry.

“Yes, it’s safe,” Satoru answered, before Kento could get in a word of his own. “The stairs to get up and down are sturdy, and there’s a railing on the platform. You don’t need to worry about anything.”

You were a bit surprised to hear how serious he sounded, though when you turned back to face him he was still smiling, doing his best to reassure the little girl.

“I’ll go up first so you can see, how about that?”

Kokoro hesitated for a moment, then nodded in response to the question, though she already seemed a little more at ease just from Satoru’s confidence.

Satoru nodded back, grabbing onto one side of the handrail and climbing easily up the stairs, not pausing or looking back until he was up on the platform. “See?” he called down, stepping to the railing and waving at the rest of you, a bright grin on his face. “Nothing to be worried about! Everything’s okay!”

You exchanged looks first with Utahime and Shoko, who shared a look between themselves before shrugging, making their way over to the stairs; they hadn’t exactly been worried in the first place, but now they had no reason not to join Satoru on the platform. As they climbed the stairs, you turned your attention back to the two youngest members of the group, tilting your head curiously.

“Do you want to come up and join us?” you asked gently. “You don’t have to, if you’d rather go back to the festival and find your family, I’ll walk you back.” Though the idea of missing the fireworks with the rest of your friends did make you sad, you knew you wouldn’t be able to properly enjoy them anyways if you were worried about Kento and Kokoro navigating their way out of the orchard and back to the festival all on their own.

“Yes,” the little girl said after a moment, nodding slightly as she walked closer to the stairs, though she paused and looked back at her brother before she started climbing. “Are you coming too, nii-chan?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Kento promised, offering his sister a gentle smile of encouragement.

With that, Kokoro was holding tight to the handrail, making her way up the stairs slowly but surely, her brother following right after her, fully prepared to catch her if she were to somehow lose her footing.

You gave them a few moments to begin their trek up the stairs before you followed them, not wanting to crowd them at all. Within a few minutes, all three of you were stepping up onto the platform itself, and you took a moment to admire the view of the stars before the fireworks started.

“It’s pretty up here, isn’t it?” Satoru’s voice was quiet beside you as he spoke, as if he only intended for you to hear.

You nodded in agreement, looking over at him after a moment longer of stargazing. “Have you been up here before?”

“A few times, yeah,” he said with a shrug. “I sneak up here when my family gets annoying, sometimes.”

Unused to such vulnerability from the boy beside you, you were unsure how to respond. “Why fireworks?” you blurted after a moment, immediately feeling your face grow hot with embarrassment; it was definitely not how you’d meant to respond, but there was no taking it back now.

“Huh?”

“Why are your parents doing fireworks this year? Is there something big in your family about turning eight? It’s not like you’ll meet your dragon this year.”

“Oh,” Satoru said, then shrugged slightly. “I don’t know. If it’s a big deal nobody ever told me. They just said they were doing a fireworks show.”

It still seemed a bit odd to you, but it was obvious you weren’t going to get any other answer out of the white haired boy, so you decided to drop the subject. Luckily for you, though, the first of the fireworks launched into the sky with a shrill sound before bursting into bright red sparks overhead, effectively pulling everyone’s attention and pushing the question of why there were fireworks in the first place far from your mind.

All of you stared, completely enraptured by the flashing lights and colors above your heads, for several minutes. When a smaller series of bursts created the shape of a dragonfly in the air, you remembered the kimono your friend was wearing, and you reached over to take his hand, never looking away from the fireworks. You leaned a bit closer into his side, wanting to make sure he could hear you when you spoke.

“Happy birthday, Satoru,” you said quietly, in a brief lull between explosions.

He said nothing in response, nor did he look over at you, but he gave your hand a light squeeze, and he leaned his head lightly against your own; a small, silent moment, just for the two of you, even with all your other friends around.

If you had known that that would be one of the last moments like that you’d get to share with him, you would have treasured it more.

i really appreciate everyone's support & patience on this! i have so much i want to do with this fic (& this AU in general, really), so i hope you'll stick around to see where this goes! reblogs & replies are always appreciated, i wanna hear what you guys think! also feel free to drop by my ask box with questions, i'm more than happy to talk about little worldbuilding details!

tagging: @ghost-1-y @kentohours @whatthefucksatan @why-the-fuck-am-i-so-tired @mitsuristoleme @lu-dao-writes @peachdues

#dragon rider au #noble blood #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk au #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo jjk #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #fallon's fics #divider credits to cafekitsune & saradika

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ms--lobotomy · 9 months

Note

Hi, can I request a Konrad Curze x reader oneshot? I like how you’ve written him so far.

anon im so stupid for curze its not even funny. i love rat men. in my head hes really dumb but also a little shit.

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summary: curze has no idea how to court someone he finds attractive, lmao

word count: 1184

content warnings: its curze so nearly comical amounts of violence, i feel like im putting a lot of headcanons on him but what even is canon anymore we're all primarch fuckers here, also its kinda toxic because its curze

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Nostramo was a lightless planet. The only things illuminating the path you tread were manmade lights, harsh and unyielding. It didn't help that it was pouring rain, either. You trod alone, but it was time for the factories of the planet to close, so you were just one face in a sea full of people.

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck bristle. This wasn’t an uncommon feeling, things commonly went wrong in the hive city in which you lived. You clutched the bag you were holding, a sad brown thing that carried the remnants of corpse starch and some money and other things you needed to get through work. It smelled awful.

“Put the bag on the ground,” you heard a voice behind you proclaim. You felt something round and hard at the back of your neck.

You already knew what to do. Nobody turned around to look at you, the people walking home milled around the two of you. You turned around to see someone wearing nondescript black clothes and bearing a cold iron gun. You put your bag on the ground. “Here you go,” you sighed. He did have a gun, but this wasn’t your first day around town. “There’s maybe two coins in there, if you even care,” you continued. “Enjoy.”

Just before you turned around, while you were thinking about how many factory shifts you would need to replace your dearly departed bag, a dark blur hit your mugger. Your… would be mugger now, because he had just become a cloud of blood and viscera. It would be almost comical if a man weren’t turned to dust before your very eyes.

Your eyes darted to that… thing that attacked him. It--no, he--was tall, very tall. Maybe twice your height. He had dark, unkempt hair and his sclera was black. The crowd was starting to disperse, taking different directions, but you stood there dumbfounded. And he looked just about as dumbfounded as you did.

“Um…” you managed to squeak out. “Can I help you?”

He pursed his almost nonexistent lips. “Follow me,” he said, his voice more rumbly than anything you’ve heard come out of a human before. You weren’t even sure if this was a human you were dealing with. While you were busy contemplating whether or not the being in front of you could be considered human, he put a firm hand on your shoulder and started walking. You had to run to keep up, or you felt your shoulder was going to be yanked from your body. His fingers dug into your flesh, almost breaking it open. You saw the crowd part in front of you, the odd person giving you a confused stare before darting away with the rest of the crowd.

After winding through the streets of the dimly lit city, you found yourself in front of a large, imposing building. Skulls around your size hung on pikes around it, and that had to be human skin carpeting the ground.

“Your… new quarters,” he said bluntly.

“Excuse me?” you asked. You had lived in crummy apartments your whole life. Having a whole building, let alone one this large, was an alien concept to you. Not to mention the uncouth decorations.

He stared, nothing hiding the crazed way in which he looked at you. You looked away to break the intense eye contact. A few moments later, he scanned his hand and led you through the door. The door was the perfect size for him, but the knob was just a little further down than you were tall.

“Thanks?” you asked as you entered the threshold of the building.

You entered the elevator in the center of the room, and it shot you up to the highest floor of the building. It was as if you could see the entire city from where you were. His hand trailed from your shoulder to your waist. You looked out to around where you came from, there were people milling around again as if nothing had happened there. You looked back up at the man who had brought you here. He was staring at you again with that same crazed look in his eye.

“Who even are you?” you asked.

“You don’t know?” he responded. The crazed look became one of genuine confusion. “You haven’t heard of the Night Haunter?”

“I have no idea who that is,” you responded flatly. “I don’t get out often.”

“Well…” he said, looking away from you for a second. The elevator dinged, you were at the floor you were looking for. His hand left your waist. He turned around to exit, but you could still hear him fine. “You can call me Konrad.”

He scanned his hand next to the single door, and it swung open. The room that greeted you was nothing short of opulent. Windows opened up a view of the city, and there was a bed big enough for three Konrads nested in one of the corners of the room. Sure, the paintings on the wall were… unsettling, but you’d seen worse. He put a hand on your shoulder again and led you to the window, staring down at the city. You couldn’t escape if you wanted to.

“Why are you doing all this?” you asked as he knelt down next to you. He was still taller than you.

He took one of your hands in both of his, clasping his hands around yours. “I…” he started. “Uh… I suppose this is how courting works, correct?”

Your mouth hung open. Of course this was what he was doing. What other explanation would there be for this behavior? “Absolutely not,” you said after a moment. You couldn’t help it, but the corners of your mouth quirked up. You knew that he could tear you to shreds if he wanted, you could be another part of those skulls and skins at the front of his dwelling if he so chose. But there was something about the gestures that he made that was… charming.

“We will be sharing a bed anyways,” he said, bringing your hand to his mouth. He ran his lips over it in an almost-kiss, but pulled away. “I imagine you are going to be okay with this arrangement.”

You felt your face go warm. “I… I guess I can’t refuse, can I?”

Konrad chuckled. “You are getting it,” he replied. “Now, it is getting late. And you need to go to bed.”

“I just got off of work,” you protested, but Konrad led you to the bed nonetheless. He practically threw you on the mattress before slumping onto it himself. After hitting a button to turn the lights out, he grabbed you and held onto you. You went limp on the bed. If he said you were going to bed, who were you to argue?

His breath was warm on your exposed neck, his face nested in the crook of your neck. You ran a curious hand through his unkempt hair. The bed was softer than anything you’d ever experienced.

You could get used to this.

#primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #konrad curze x reader #reader insert #konrad curze #warhammer lobotomy #i dont know what im doing but im doing my best :)#hope you like it anon! have a lovely day

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ohmyo · 9 months

Text

Tipsy Hold Challenge

We were out at the bar with some friends and after a few drinks we came home. I went to the bathroom pretty soon after getting home and when I got out I was handed another beer. I was ready to keep the buzz going and not long after he decided to make us some cocktails.

After my beer and just as I was finishing my cocktail I started to squirm. I was definitely a little drunk now and didn’t realize until now I really needed to pee. I don’t know if the seal is real or not, but if it is I had already broken it when we got back from the bar.

He noticed I was squirming and asked if I needed to use the potty again. I didn’t want to get up since things were starting to get fuzzy and the couch was so comfy. I whined that I didn’t want to pee and he said Good because you don’t get to. You went already, now you’re going to hold it. You’ve only had two drinks since you peed last your brain is just tricking you. You’re going to be good and hold it for me right?

I squirmed so much more hearing him say that. but I nodded. He told me that I should go make is another drink and so I went hoping the urges would pass as he said, it had only been a couple of drinks.

When I got back he had put on the show we had been watching and I got comfy. By the end of my drink I was feeling pretty good and I didn’t even question where the water bottle my boyfriend was handing me came from. I started to get up not thinking anything of it with my brain being so fuzzy, where are you going baby?

Then it hit me, he said I can’t use the bathroom. “I was going to pee, but I, um can I please go use the bathroom now? It’s been four drinks now and um a couple hours. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to hold all drunky”

You were going to the bathroom after I specifically told you no? Oh my! I thought you were going to get us more drinks. I don’t think I should let it slide that you weren’t following my instructions. Being drunk is hardly a good excuse for not listening to one simple request. I think you need to go get yourself two drinks for the next episode.

I was whining and rubbing my legs together as he talked. I wanted to be good so I went and got three drinks as he requested. I was feeling so full and I didn’t know how I would manage two more. I tried to get lost in our show, but my bladder was heavy on my mind. I was squirming while trying to drink my drinks wanting to be good. After a while I managed to get invested and relaxed and “AH”

Everything okay? “I um I think I may have leaked a little bit. It was getting a little hazy and” Oh no baby let me take a look, get up. There was a tiny little spot that you wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know, but embarrassing regardless. With the leak taking me out of the drunk haze I was now very aware of how full my bladder was. Instinctively my hand flew down to help me hold as I was standing there helpless. “please can I go use the bathroom? I’ll do anything please”

Anything? I nodded aggressively not considering how this could get any harder. Hm well that is interesting. Maybe we should play a little game for your bathroom privileges. “a game?” Yes, I think that seems fair. We’ll make it an even game too. Let’s flip a coin, actually that’s boring let’s flip twice. Double heads you get to pee. Mixed we’ll wait 10 minutes and flip again. Double tails, hm, you’ll get on your knees and let me drain my bladder.

I let out a whimper both from being a little turned on by his dirty game and from thinking about the challenges in taking in any more fluid. “Thank you, let me go grab a quarter.” “tails, fuck” “no! again? what are the odds! please let’s flip again that was just a trail run”

The game has rules for a reason, sorry you lost, but not sorry enough. Come on get on your knees, I could really use a release.

“Yes sir” I got down as he pulled down his pants. His stream started fast causing me to moan and grab myself. This was making me need to go even more and I was starting to feel unsure if I would make it.

Mmmm much better thank you baby. Maybe you’ll be more lucky in 10 more minutes. I let out a big whine doing a very obvious potty dance at this point. Every minute felt like forever no matter how I tried to distract myself. The kissing might have helped a little, it did get me a little turned on when he used my mouth.

Tails I let out a little sob. Heads 10 more minutes beautiful. I did not know what to do with myself. I don’t know if I can make it. It has been a few hours, 6 drinks, his pee and I’m desperate.

Why don’t we move to the bedroom. Maybe laying down will be a bit easier for you. As soon as we got into bed the kissing started up again. With how drunk we were things started moving pretty fast and before I knew it all of our clothes were off. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than how much I wanted him inside me, but as soon as he pushed in I felt an immense pressure. Feelings of pleasure and discomfort coursed through my body. We were messy, sloppy, and I’m glad no one was near to hear us. It did not last long, but it felt amazing.

“I can’t believe my bladder didn’t surrender. That was so crazy.” You’ve been so good for me let’s flip again, hopefully you’ll be lucky this time. “Heads!” Heads! Go baby! Just hearing that I get relief made my bladder weaken. I ran as fast as I could to the bathroom feeling the first few drops fall before I could even sit down. Finally.

#oops this got long #omo challenge #omo #omorashi #pee holding challenge #I did really flip for the first two sets

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nikoshinigami · 3 months

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My Takes on KHR Pairings

No one asked for it, but I do so love me some character analysis and head-canons. So here are my personal justifications and thoughts on 8059, D18, 6927, and 10051

8059 This is canon, isn't it? I don't even need to explain how Gokudera is the pressure Yamamoto needs in his life to apply himself and Yamamoto is the grace Gokudera needs in his life to not be so hard on himself? Even their fighting styles support each other. They are dating in the manga as far as I'm concerned. If you didn't read the manga and think half the reason Gokudera was so loud about his hate for Yamamoto was basically Unresolved Sexual Tension and Gay Panic, then I can't help you. The canon speaks for itself, and it speaks loudly. Where most KHR pairings tend to be of the 'two sides of the same coin' verity, these two are opposites attract.

D18 Dino and Hibari have the same core values. They protect their territory, they inspire their subordinates, they are respected leaders, and they love a good fight. They both admire and respect individual potential and don't garner unrealistic expectations of others--they know there are exceptions and not everyone can rise to their level, but those who can had better get their act together.

Dino initially sees a wild and beautiful brat of a creature when he looks at Hibari but learns to see his kindness and fairness as he reflects on their similarities. Hibari sees a never-ending battle that in truth he hopes does go on forever, because he's never before had someone in his life who could break him down, bare and bloody, no tricks and no respect lost, day after day, and follow it up with the proper care after to ensure they can both continue in the morning. There's the rocky post-trauma start considering the last time Hibari thought he was walking into a fair fight, he was deceived, tortured, and kidnapped all thanks to mafia foolery (Fuck you, Mukuro~). But after a while in the woods, knowing this time he won't be left to rot with many of his bones broken, trust and respect are built and last a lifetime.

The man with the bronco on his arm hasn't broken in the wild creature, because he himself has been considered a force of nature and he knows it's best to let wild things run free. Hibari is allowed to be his weird, unintentionally funny, and aggressively possessive self, while Dino gets to bask in that feeling of being the only one at a house party that the cat will let pet it, seeing the softer side of Hibari that others might see but still never quite understand the meaning behind.

Respect and admiration turn to passion and reverence. Even if mafia politics only ever let it be sexual trysts, their mutual assertiveness makes it a high-adrenaline encounter that lets Dino really let loose and enjoy enforcing his dominance since his partner needs him to prove he's worthy every single time, even if only for pretense. Meanwhile, Hibari gets to be gentle and quietly seductive with Dino in ways no one would believe, relishing in the power he has over the allied Don even without lifting a finger. In the end, it's a power play for both of them that works because Hibari doesn't prioritize a win so much as he is enjoying each fight, and Dino, head of his territory's criminal organization by birthright, needs to feel like he earned it sometimes in a way only adversity can prove.

6927 Put each on either side of a window and they'd think they were looking in a mirror. Mukuro was a child abused by the mafia, his future stolen from him for its ambitions without any consideration for his own wants and desires, made close friends with others put in the same position as him, has a strong desire to protect those close to him even at the sacrifice of his own life and security, and tends to overcome adversity against the odds--prison even proving only an inconvenience as he continues to exist in the wider world mentally at least. Tsuna is a child currently facing abuse within the mafia, his future stolen from him because Vongola decided his fate without any consideration for his own wants and desires. He's made close friends with others now pulled into the mafia's schemes beside him, has a strong desire to protect those close to him even at the sacrifice of his own life and security, and tends to overcome adversity against the odds--even seasoned assassins failing to take him down. In the end, they both came to the same conclusion: the mafia is corrupt and should be burned to the ground. Mukuro has been planning the destruction of the mafia since childhood, and Tsuna told Primo he would not uphold those evils but tear it all down. Mukuro's abuse is exponentially more egregious than Tsuna's, but with that, his reactions and responses to that trauma are also more exaggerated. At the end of the day, though, you have Tsuna forced on a transformative journey, and Mukuro who, having been there and come through the other side, possesses the knowledge that there is no excuse good enough to excuse this and no punishment more fitting than annihilation.

Because of this, though, Mukuro has a kindness towards Tsuna. A curiosity. He recognizes the fact that the mafia as it exists will destroy Tsuna and try to reshape him into something else. He didn't know Tsuna before their fight--he expected someone like Xanxus, someone already made cruel and warped by ambition. He didn't know he was advancing Vongola's objectives by engaging with him, but in his defeat like saw like. Their mental bond is almost a subconscious reaction to guilt at being a pawn yet again in another mafia family's power play and wanting to warn against obeying the established authority presented to Tsuna. Mukuro refuses any show of vulnerability, but without thinking about it, has shown Tsuna that he cares about people and that he's suffering. Reborn does not want Tsuna to forget about Mukuro's crimes and to potentially stop seeing him as a threat just yet, but Tsuna has regret about the Vindice taking the Kokuyou crew back to prison--sees them rightfully as victims and wants better for them than more mafia 'justice' when it was the mafia that created them in the first place.

Tsuna, whether by their bond or his intuition, sees through Mukuro in a way no one else can. He can cut through his bullshit, recognize when he's lying or being obtuse to avoid vulnerability, and see the frown hidden behind the smile. Mukuro, on the other hand, keeps Tsuna from the evils of complacency. Cognitive dissonance makes it easier to stop fighting your morals and go along with what everyone else is telling you you have to do when you have no alternatives. His right hand is a mafia shill, his other friends trust him and the mentors who have gotten them this far which were supplied by the mafia. Mukuro alone can and will comment on the true moral failings of the mafia and has no reservations in doing so. If ever Tsuna needs to feel like he's doing the right thing, all he needs to do is look to Mukuro for confirmation.

Mukuro is also the only one Tsuna can let his guard down around fully as a mafia boss. Gokuders is a fixer--if Tsuna vents to him, Gokudera takes it upon himself to tackle the problem rather than simply listen. Yamamoto is an optimist--if Tsuna vents to him, Yamamoto tries to cheer him up and make him feel better. When Tsuna vents to Mukuro, it's shit talking time and every petty bone in the illusionist's body is happy to be in on the action. Gurl, go on~ He enjoys some catty behavior and acknowledging that a lot of people are the worst and everything sucks is a topic he is here for. Does it help anything? No. But Tsuna feels heard and seen and validated and that is important. They grow closer because it's only with Mukuro that Tsuna gets that validation and he trusts Mukuro's perspective because they understand where each other is coming from. And Mukuro is never so loyal as to hold back on telling him he's being a dumbass--something the others might refrain from doing out of respect for their Boss.

Neither of them has strong, familial bonds. Tsuna was neglected and Mukuro was.. given up to human experimentation. They both crave soft, cozy, warm love and affection. Cuddles on the couch, maintaining touch throughout sleep to feel assured the other is there and assure them of the same, gentle caresses and soft, sweet kisses. It's almost a platonic love where playing with each other's hands and fingers is a high level of intimacy. They could probably be fulfilled and happy and loved without sex in their relationship. Which is good, because Tsuna is trying so hard to conform to what he thinks a straight teenager should be, he hasn't even had time to figure out who he actually is, while Mukuro has spent his life so untrusting and full of hate, the question has never required an answer.

10051 If Amano had written Byakuran a backstory, this would be easier to defend. What is Byakuan's perfect world? What's wrong with the current world in his opinion? What is he? Where did he come from? These would be really helpful to know. But instead, we learn about him through Shouichi. We learn they went to the same university so Byakuran is likely similarly a mechanic/engineer--or my choice of physicist (theoretical) if going to a school for sciences. We know they collaborate well together since they devised Choice, and that Shouichi is a simp for his charisma. We know Shouichi trusted and believed in Byakuran enough to join his mafia family and take on ranks and titles under him. We know Byakuran believed in Shouichi enough to give him it all, and even after their time at college, they both wanted to be invested in each other's lives forever (the mafia is not something you walk away from). We know Byakuran legitimately thinks the world of Shouichi, his best friend, even if he would sacrifice him for his ambitions. We know Shouichi legitimately thinks the world of Byakuran, his best friend, even if he would betray him.

While Byakuran is effortlessly endearing and boisterous, Shouichi is quieter and enigmatic. They are the Extrovert who adopted the Introvert trope except Shouichi is no wallflower. Shouichi is courageous, cunning, and manipulative while Byakuran can be playful, caring, and genuine--as well as the reverse. Neither is, necessarily, a better person than the other at their core, and their actions are equally as grey when we don't know what it is that Byakuran wanted to give the world that everyone was trying so hard to stop. Would World Peace have been worth a handful of deaths? The ambiguity leaves a lot to question if you don't fall into the "any sacrifice is too high a cost" set of values.

Strong headcanon, but I believe Byakuran wanted a world that he could be a part of. He is obviously not human, even without the Mare ring he was able to see across alternative dimensions, and he seems to be completely detached from consequences. If you've seen an infinite number of Shouichi's, is there such a thing as the 'real' Shouichi? If you've seen kingdoms rise and fall based on a butterfly's wings, is there any permanence in institutions? If people love you in one world and are indifferent to you in another, which is the truth of their feelings? If all things are possible, then nothing is concretely true, real, or genuine. You are a player character surrounded by NPCs and worlds you can load up as you like where you can simply move on if you get tired of the scenario. Byakuran was already a god, but he was a god railroaded into living a life of limited possibility despite infinite options. I think he wanted one timeline, one truth, one world in which things were perfect and he knew he was with the Shouichi, and he was the Byakuran who got to live his life. This makes the most sense of why they had to stop Byakuran in that future specifically--because all other parallel worlds would cease to exist if the Byakuran of their future specifically won. And if the toll of his victory is an infinite number of casualties, then the stakes are so high that it makes sense why the burden of it crushes Shouichi and physically pains him at every step but also why he still cares deeply for his best friend despite it all. Because he can't offer an alternative solution; there is no cure for the level of insight Byakuran has gained and the level of detachment it has caused him over the decade. Even telling him that no matter how many Shouichi's exist, he is himself and unique and special to Byakuran is hollow because surely every version of himself would wish to think so too. He knows how happy Byakuran would be to live in a "real" world with "real" people and there is no way to give it to him--in fact, he knows he is what caused Byakuran to begin to lose his connection with reality in the first place.

Both of them will lie, cheat, steal, and murder to get what they want. And I think Byakuran is constantly amused when he is reminded of how calculating and cold Shouichi can be. Shouichi, on the other hand, is exasperated by Byakuran's childishness, but uncomfortably attracted to the sheer force of his personality. They are a switch couple. Shouichi hates it when Byakuran starts to treat him like his sweet, docile bottom and will turn the tables on him to prove he is and has always been a perfect match for Byakuran's cunning. And Byakuran doesn't care if he's baby girl or daddy so long as he has a good time. Friends, to lovers, to enemies, to… friends? Their relationship is tangled in the memories of people they will never become. And that makes them even more fascinating.

#reborn khr #khr #katekyou hitman reborn #byakuran #reborn d18 #8059 #6927 #10051 #irie shoichi #sawada tsunayoshi #dino cavallone #rokudo mukuro #gokudera hayato #yamamoto takeshi #hibari kyoya

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