#come sail away || ooc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satorulovebot · 2 months ago

Text

cursed seas chapter five | you're on your own, kid

↳ satoru gojou x reader

genre — heavy angst, pirate au, 18+

word count — 10k

tags/warnings — 18+, mentions of cannibalism, neglect, mentions of anxiety and depression, ooc gojo, explicit smut (don't get too happy), mentions of death

notes — gojo is an ass. that is literally it. if you thought he was nice in the last chapter and had some character development, no I dangled a carrot in front of you sawwy. maybe one of these days i’ll stick with a theme. also he doesn't behave like this to be an ass but it's more of a trauma response and other things. also, the reader has a hard time standing up for herself in stressful situations. She has no problem insulting gojo when shes not in a stressful situation just to clear the air and give her more characterization. also my smut skills are rusty as FUCK it’s been so long don’t make fun of me. anyways this has been long enough rb's and comments always appreciated and my inbox is always open :3

prev. never saw you coming | next. the lakes

The sky above the ship was a muted gray, covered with thick clouds that hung low over the horizon. The air was heavy with the scent of salt and seaweed, and the dampness clung to everything it touched. The island you were heading to was located amongst other islands. The islands were commonly referred to as the Sanguine Islands, some of the biggest islands in the Caribbean.

Captain Gojou stood at the helm as his hands rested on the ship's wheel. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was just as carefree as always. But you did know better. He was back to his usual self—cocky, arrogant, and always in control. He behaved kike the night before had never happened. What upset you the most was that you thought the two of you were getting somewhere. But it was all replaced by the same facade he wore when you first met him.

“Alright, gather ‘round,” Gojou called out. “We’ve got a map, and it’s time to head to our first destination.”

You were sitting on a wooden barrel when Gojou asked the crew to join him. You were speaking to Megumi and Yuuji about the map and if they had any ideas of what they would do with the treasure. Eventually, you walked over to him and stood a few feet behind the group, your fingers nervously clutching the map. Honestly, you didn’t want to give him the map, not after everything that happened, but you didn’t have a choice.

Still, you hesitated.

“Hey!” Gojou’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “The map, sweetheart. Don’t make me ask twice.”

You swallowed hard before stepping forward to hand him the map. Your fingers brushed against his as he took it from you, and you could feel the tension radiating from him.

“Good girl,” he muttered just loud enough for you to hear. The words were like a slap in the face. You stepped back, away from the group, as Gojou spread the map across a table on the deck.

The way he acted as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t torn into you just hours ago, made your heart ache.

“We’re heading to an island,” Gojou began. “roughly three days' sail from here. It’s marked as uninhabited on most maps, but according to this,” he tapped the weathered parchment, “it’s got something we need. All you need to know is that we’re going there.”

“There is a catch, though. The island’s got a bit of a reputation. Cannibalistic locals, or so the rumors say. I’m not one for ghost stories, but if you’re the type to scare easily, consider this your warning to stay on the ship.” Gojou went to pick up the map before shouting out, “Oh, and Y/N, you’re coming too.”

The journey to the Sanguine Islands was uneventful, save for the occasional stormy waves that rocked the ship. You kept to yourself as usual, except for talking to the kids and Nanami.

Something about those kids, though, was that they always seemed to be in a hurry. The other day, I saw Yuuji bringing a bucket below deck. I have never seen him get seasick or anything, and he lives on a ship. But it’s none of my business.

It’s better to keep a low profile anyway, you thought to yourself. Besides, teenagers are sneaky.

Gojou seemed also to be keeping to himself. His usual cocky grin was back on his handsome face. It was unfortunate he was a good-looking man.

Finally, the islands appeared on the horizon, or at least what you could see of them. They were small, jagged pieces of land shrouded in mist. “This place gives me the creeps,” Yuuji muttered as he prepared to drop the anchor.

“It’s just an Island Itadori. You’ll be fine since you’re staying on the ship,” Nanami voiced.

“We’ll split into two groups. Half of you stay with the ship, which includes the kids, and the other half comes with me. Shokou, you also stay. We’ll check out the island, grab whatever treasure we can find, and return by nightfall.” Gojou announced.

As Gojou had previously stated, you were heading to the island, though you wished you weren't. You had a bad feeling when your feet touched the sand, and that feeling would only worsen. The group consisted of you, Toji, Getou, Nanami, and Captain Gojou.

The deeper you ventured into the jungle, the more uneasy you felt. The trees seemed to close in around you, and the air was more humid than usual. Every now and then, you could hear the distant rustle of leaves from what you assumed were animals moving around in the underbrush. But whenever you turned to look, there was nothing.

“I don’t like this,” Getou muttered behind you.

“Quiet Suguru,” Gojou snapped. “We’re almost there.”

But “there” was nowhere to be found. The deeper the five of you went, the more lost you felt.

“Maybe we should head back?” You suggested quietly.

Gojou ignored you. Of course. But you could see the frustration in his expression as he tried to make sense of the map.

“It’s like we’re going in fucking circles,” he muttered.

Suddenly, shouts erupted from the back of the group.

Before you could react, colorful figures burst from the treeline, their bodies covered in intricate tribal markings.

Chaos erupted as the four men fought back, but they were outnumbered. You ducked behind a tree as you tried to make sense of the situation.

“Retreat!” Toji shouted, his voice barely audible over the sound of clashing steel. “We need to get back to the ship!”

When you went to turn around, there was no clear path back.

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the attackers vanished into the jungle.

“Nice job, Satoru were trapped,” Getou drawled.

“We’re not trapped,” Gojou snapped before turning to you. “Give me the map.”

In the thick of the fight, Gojou had dropped the map, and you managed to pick it up before anyone from the opposing side could. Your hands trembled as you pulled the map from your bag. Gojou snatched it from you before unfolding the faded parchment.

But when he went to read the map, it had changed.

Where there had once been clear markings were now a mess of lines and symbols that made no sense. The landmarks did not match what you had seen on the island.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Gojou muttered, his eyes narrowing as he studied the map. “It’s like the damn thing is cursed.”

“We will find a way back to the ship. And when we do, we’re leaving this godforsaken island. Treasure or not.”

The five of you spent hours trying to make your way through the jungle back to the beach, where you had made landfall. But every time you seemed like you were getting closer, the paths continued to change, leaving you all more lost than before.

“We’re going in circles,” Toji growled.

“We need to stop,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “We’re exhausted and not getting anywhere like this.”

For a moment, you thought he might snap at you, as he had multiple times before. Instead, he sighed, his shoulders slumping, as he folded the map and tucked it into his coat pocket.

“Fine,” he muttered, “We’ll rest here for the night.”

You wasted no time helping the crew set up a makeshift camp. You found some palm leaves that could be used as a mat so you wouldn’t be sleeping on the cold, hard jungle ground because god knows what is in this place.

You sat near the edge of the camp with your back against a tree as you stared into the flickering firelight. Your mind drifted back to Gojou and how he consistently spoke to you throughout your journey. Even on the night of the Merchant’s ball, he had never looked at you this way, although he did seem conflicted, and you could see it in his eyes.

It didn’t make any sense.

Yes, Gojou was infuriating, arrogant, and impossible to read. But something about him made your heart race and your thoughts spiral out of control. It didn’t help that he was extremely attractive, either. But you refused to let yourself fall for him, not after how he had treated you and what he had done.

You decided that it was time for you to at least try and get some rest before dealing with more of his bullshit. By the time the first light of dawn broke through the canopy, most of the crew was up and about. Gojou decided that you had all stayed in the same place for too long and needed to get moving. However, whenever you seemed to be going in the right direction, the dense foliage would twist and shift, obscuring your path.

Toji led the group since he had a machete that could slice through the undergrowth. Gojou stood behind you in case the attackers returned and decided to ambush your group from behind.

“What the hell is wrong with this place?” Toji growled.

“I did tell you it had a reputation. Locals say it’s cursed. People who come here usually never leave.” Gojou said.

Usually?!

“You believe that superstitious nonsense?” Nanami chimed in.

“It’s not nonsense, you ass. We’ve been walking in circles for hours. This place is messed up.”

“Enough. Keep moving,” Gojou ordered. “We’ll find a way out. There’s always a way out.”

The thick canopy above blocked out most of the sunlight, causing permanent twilight during the day. It was easy to lose track of time. The hours seemed to blur together, and exhaustion began to show.

“Maybe we should turn back? We’re not getting anywhere like this.”

Gojou shot you a look full of irritation. “Why would we turn back? We aren’t turning back until we find what we came for.”

But wasn’t he just saying it was okay if we didn’t find any treasure?

You decided to stay silent, not wanting to piss Gojou off any further.

“This damn map,” he muttered under his breath.

You approached him, looking over his shoulder to scan the map. “It doesn’t make any sense. It’s like the island keeps changing, and the map doesn’t match.”

Toji, watching the exchange, sheathed his machete and stepped closer. “Look, Gojou, she’s right. We’re not getting anywhere. This place is like a maze, and we need to come up with a new plan.”

For a moment, Gojou looked like he was going to argue. But then he let out a sharp breath before folding the map and tucking it back into his coat. “Fine,” he muttered. “We’ll take a break, regroup, and figure out what the hell is going on.”

You all let out a collective sigh of relief as you set up a temporary camp. It wasn’t much, but it gave you all a chance to catch your breath and tend to any scrapes or wounds. You sat on a fallen log, wiping the sweat from your brow. Your eyes drifted to Gojou, who stood a few feet away, staring into the jungle with a frown. He hadn’t said much since he decided to stop, and you could tell that your current situation was finally catching up with him.

You approached him cautiously, your voice soft as you spoke. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. This place is just… pissing me off.”

“It’s like the island doesn’t want us to leave.”

Gojou didn’t respond immediately, but he continued to reassure you that you would be able to make it out.

As the sun began to set, the jungle seemed to be alive. The sounds of the day gave way to something darker. You all huddled closer to the fire you had built. The flames illuminated your faces. No one spoke, not even Captain Gojou.

You decided to once again try to get Gojou to get you to keep moving. “We need to keep moving. We can’t stay here.”

“I know,” he muttered. “But we’re not moving in the dark. This place is bad enough during the day.”

You couldn't argue with that. This place felt like a death trap, and the thought of venturing back out into the jungle made you more than uncomfortable. But staying here wasn’t much better.

You glanced at Gojou, wondering what he was thinking. His face was hard to read, but you could see the way his hand rested on the hilt of his sword, ready for whatever the night would bring.

But nothing ever came.

This is the third day you have been stuck on the island. The path the group had been following had disappeared. Every turn leads to a dead end or tangled vines. The thick canopy overhead barely lets any sunlight in. It casts strange shadows that play tricks on the mind.

“Dammit,” Gojou muttered as he hacked away a particularly stubborn branch with his sword.

You kept your distance from him, knowing how irritated he was now, considering that you had been on this island for longer than he wanted. Your conversations had long since died down since each of you was focused on your survival. Getou had been having a reaction to mosquito bites recently, which had significantly slowed the group down. You were sweaty and dirty and desperately wanted a bath. The muscles in your legs screamed in protest, but you pushed forward, determined not to hold the group back.

A sudden noise caught everyone’s attention. Before anyone could react, something shot out of the underbrush. Panic erupted as more figures emerged from the jungle. They had necklaces made of bones around their necks and clothing made out of what you hoped was animal hide.

You heard Gojou shout something out before grabbing your arm and running in the opposite direction, away from the chaos. You noticed there was blood smeared on his sleeve and his sword drawn. You came to a stop, and he ordered you to stay close to him, not even sparing you a second glance before he turned his back and started walking.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, too exhausted and too shaken to argue with him. Following him was your only option, and judging by his demeanor, you could see that he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be stuck with you.

As the two of you walked, neither of you spoke. The only sounds that could be heard were the crunch of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

He didn’t stop walking, nor did he slow down. “No.”

“So we’re just wandering then?”

“You got a better idea?”

You didn’t bother responding. It wasn’t worth it. The ache in your legs had become unbearable, and it took more effort than you would have liked. But the last thing you were going to do was complain to him and have him think you’re weak. He already seemed to look down on you, and you didn’t think you could take any more of it.

“Why are you always like this?”

He stopped so suddenly that you almost ran into him.

“Like what?”

“Like you hate me. I’ve done nothing but try to help you and your crew. And all you do is push me away like I’m some… some nuisance.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his icy blue eyes studying you with an intensity that made your heart race. With a scoff, he turned away again. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then explain it to me. Tell me why you treat me like I’m nothing. Tell me why you act like—”

“Because it’s easier. It’s easier if I don’t care. If I don’t let myself...”

“Let’s go,” he muttered, turning away from you again. “We don’t have time for this.”

But you weren’t ready to let it go. “You don’t have to be like this.”

He didn’t respond and instead began walking again as you followed in silence. The jungle grew darker as the sun began to set, and the path became even harder to navigate. You stumbled over roots and rocks, your exhaustion making it difficult to keep up with Gojou.

After walking a little while, the two of you came across a small stream. Gojou knelt down by the water's edge, splashing some onto his face before drinking deeply. You followed his lead, kneeling beside his and cupping your hands to bring the cool water to your lips.

Then, without looking at you, Gojou spoke. “You should have stayed on the ship.”

His words caught you off guard, and you looked at him in surprise. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have come. You don’t belong here.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What? You told me to come! I thought I was helping.”

“It was a mistake. You’re just making things harder.”

Instead of arguing or defending yourself, you simply nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat.

“We should keep moving.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

Your heart was heavy as you followed him through the dense jungle. The canopy above filtered the light into beams that cast shadows across the jungle floor, but you felt none of their promised warmth. Gojou strode ahead of you; you hadn’t spoken in hours and didn’t dare break the silence. Your feet ached with each step, the rough terrain taking its toll on your body, but the pain was nothing compared to the ache in your chest.

He suddenly stopped, its abruptness making you stumble. “We’re losing daylight,” he said flatly before turning his back to you once more. “Keep up.”

You swallowed hard before nodding. Words sat heavy on our tongue—words you wanted to shout, to throw at him in anger and frustration—but you bit them back. What good would they do? He had made it perfectly clear where you stood with him.

As you continued to walk, you noticed you were beginning to struggle even more than before. In an instant, your foot caught on a root, and before you could even let out a gasp, you were falling. The world spun, and pain shot through your ankle as you hit the earth. You bit back a cry, the sharp sting making its way up your leg.

Gojou stopped again. This time, he glanced over his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes.

“Get up.” Get up? What the fuck? He didn’t move to help you and didn’t even offer you a hand. It was as if he expected you to pick yourself up, just like you always did.

You clenched your teeth. The pain was unbearable. Slowly, you managed to push yourself up, wincing as you put weight on your injured leg. It was clear that you couldn’t walk properly, but Gojou had already turned his back on you. Again.

For a moment, you just stood there. Your chest heaved in an effort to hold back you emotions. How many times would you have to prove your worth to him? How many times would he let you fall only to leave you behind without so much as a glance?

With a deep breath, you forced yourself to move. You limped after him with every step, sending a fresh wave of pain through your ankle, but you kept going. You had to. Not because he asked you to—but because you refused to be left behind.

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of running water that you realized the jungle was thinning out. Gojou was stopped a few feet in front of you with his gaze fixed on something in the distance. When you caught up, you saw what had gotten his attention—a river that cut through the dense forest.

“We need to find a way across. The island won't wait for us to figure it out.”

You nodded, though the pain in your ankle made the mere thought of crossing a river seem impossible, but you knew it was better not to voice your concerns. He wouldn't care. He never did. Not really.

The riverbank was rocky and uneven, and you found yourself trailing behind Gojou as he scouted ahead. You tried to mask the limp in your step, but he noticed. Of course, he did.

“You’re slowing us down. If you can't keep up, I’ll have to leave you behind.”

Of course. You expected no less from a heartless man like him.

“I can manage,” you replied quietly.

The two of you finally made it across the river, not without some trouble due to your injury. When you looked up, you could see the evening sky as it bled into soft shades of violet and indigo. The island’s edge was near, and you could hear the faint sounds of waves and the smell of salty seawater.

“We need to get off this island before night falls.” He started toward the beach without waiting for you, making it hard to keep up with his long strides. You followed him, limping slightly as you looked for any way to escape the island. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a small, weathered boat hidden behind a stack of driftwood. It looked old, and it probably couldn’t even float without sinking. But it was better than nothing.

“We can use that,” you called after Gojou. “But the oars…”

Gojou glanced at the boat before glancing back at you. “We don’t have a choice. We’ll figure it out.”

Without another word, he made his way over to the boat and began inspecting the vessel, running his hands over the worn wood to assess its condition. You stood back, watching him work. You limped over to the boat and knelt beside one of the broken oars, running your fingers along the jagged edge. “We could try to fix this,” you offered, unsure if he would even listen.

Gojou glanced up at you, and you thought he might snap at you. But surprisingly, he nodded.

“Do what you can,” he said before turning back to the boat.

With whatever scraps of driftwood and vines you could find, you began the makeshift repairs on the oars. The pain in your ankle throbbed with each movement, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it. The sun was sinking lower in the sky, and when you finally managed to piece together something that resembled an oar, the sky was now a deep purple. It wasn’t pretty, but it would have to do.

“I think this will work,” you said, holding it up for Gojou to see.

He turned to inspect your handiwork, his eyes glancing over the makeshift oar. A small grunt of approval escaped his lips, and without saying another word, he began pushing the boat toward the water. You moved to help him despite the sharp pain in your leg. Together, the two of you heaved the boat into the shallows as the cold water lapped at your ankles. Gojou climbed in first before holding his hand out to you. It was the first time he had offered his help on your journey.

You hesitated for a moment before taking his hand and climbing into the boat. The oar you had repaired was far from perfect, but somehow, Gojou managed to guide the small vessel through the gentle waves. The island slowly began to fade from view, being swallowed by the darkness. You sat opposite him with your legs tucked beneath you.

The small boat rocked gently as you neared the ship that could be seen on the horizon. Its lanterns on board had guided the both of you back, and for that, you were eternally grateful. Relief had washed over you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the pain in your ankle, which you had somehow almost forgotten about.

Gojou continued to silently row the small boat toward the ship, his gaze fixed ahead. As you neared the ship, you could make out figures on the deck. It seemed like Nanami, Getou, and Toji had made it back safely, just as Gojou had predicted a few days ago.

Yuuji and Ino quickly made work of pulling the small rowboat onto the side of the ship so you and Gojou could board once more. But the moment you tried to move, the pain flared up again, causing you to wince. You bit back a groan because you were unwilling to show weakness, especially in front of Gojou.

The boat bumped softly against the side of the ship, and without a word, he stood and glanced down at you, his eyes narrowed as he took in your obvious discomfort. You knew what was coming before he even moved, but that didn’t stop the jolt of surprise when he bent down and scooped you up in one swift motion, cradling you against his chest.

“W-what are you—”

“Can’t have you limping around the deck like a wounded animal. Besides, you can’t fix your ankle if you can’t even stand.”

Jesus Christ, this man is hot and cold. Can he please make up his mind?

Your protests fell flat as you realized how futile they were. He carried you through the deck of the ship, heading straight for his quarters. The door to his cabin creaked open, and Gojou carried you inside. He gently lowered you onto his bed.

“Stay here. I’ll get Shokou.”

Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. You let out a slow breath, the tension in your body easing slightly now that you were alone. Your ankle still hurt, but at least you were off of it.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open again, and Shokou stepped inside. She carried a small medical kit with her. There was a hint of amusement in her expression as she glanced at you on the bed.

“Well, well, look who’s in need of some help,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I figured Gojou was being dramatic when he said you broke your ankle. Guess I owe him an apology.”

You forced a weak smile, wincing as you shifted slightly on the bed. “It’s not as bad as it looks… maybe.”

“Yeah, sure. Let me take a look.”

She knelt beside the bed and gently began to examine your ankle. It was swollen and bruised from all the walking you did on it. Her touch was light, but it didn’t stop the pain as she assessed the damage. You sucked in a sharp breath, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from making any noise.

“Hate to break it to you,” Shokou said after a moment, “but it’s definitely broken. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse, though. A little rest, and you’ll be good as new.”

She kept up a light conversation as she worked on bandaging your ankle. She carefully wrapped it before turning her attention to a small vial she pulled from her kit. “This should help with the pain,” she said, offering you a dose. “Drink up.”

You accepted the vial with a quiet nod. The liquid was bitter, but the relief that followed was almost immediate. The pain dulled to a more manageable state.

Is this shit magic?

As Shokou finished up, Gojou reappeared in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame. His cerulean eyes flicked over to your bandaged ankle before settling on Shokou. “How bad?”

“Not bad enough to keep her out of trouble for long,” Shokou replied with a smirk, standing up and dusting off her hands. “She’ll be fine, but she needs to stay off it for a few days.”

“You heard her. No more running around.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you muttered.

Shokou began to pack up her kit, and before turning to leave, she gave you a quick pat on the shoulder. “I’ll check on you later,” she said, flashing you one last smile before disappearing out the door.

With it just being you and Gojou, the two of you fell into an uncomfortable silence. Gojou lingered for a moment before he pushed off the doorframe and approached the bed.

“You did good back there,” he grumbled.

“Thanks… I guess.”

Without another word, Gojou turned back to the door. “Get some rest,” he called over his shoulder before stepping out, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room.

Not long after Gojou left, you sat in silence. Your ankle lightly throbbed, though Shokou’s treatment had eased some of the pain. The ache that lingered in your chest was another matter entirely. You hated everything about this ship, the adults on this ship, and most of all, Captain Gojou. All of them seemed to be pushing you towards a breaking point.

The door creaked open again, and you glanced up, expecting Shokou to check up on you. Unfortunately, it was Gojou. He glanced over at you briefly before stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Are we going anywhere near Elysport?” you blurted.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by the question. "Why?"

"Because I need to know. I need to know when I can leave this fucking ship."

His eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"I hate it here. I hate this ship, the way everyone looks at me, and I especially hate the way you’ve been treating me like I’m nothing more than a problem."

"I’m treating you like a problem?"

"Yes!" you snapped, pushing yourself up. "You’ve been an asshole from the start. You act like I’m just some burden you’re forced to carry, and I’m sick of it."

The way I treat you is because I’m keeping you alive. This isn’t some fucking pleasure cruise. You’re out of your depth, and I don’t have the luxury to babysit you."

"I don’t need you to babysit me, Gojou!" you shot back. "I need you to stop treating me like I’m invisible. You drag me along on this ship, ignore me, and then throw me a few scraps of attention when it suits you. I’m tired of it!"

"You think I’ve been ignoring you? I’m trying to protect you, even if you don’t see it. The less attention you get from the wrong people, the better. And if I have to push you away to do that, I will."

"I don’t need your protection, Gojou. I’m not some fragile doll who’s going to break at the first sign of danger."

"You have no idea what you’re talking about. This world we’re in—it’s cutthroat. People die. You’ve already seen that. And if you think leaving this ship is going to solve your problems, you’re dead wrong.”

"I don’t care!" you spat. "I want off this ship. I’ll take my chances out there. I’d rather deal with the dangers of the world on my own than be stuck here, treated like I don’t matter."

"You really think you’ll be safer anywhere else? That if you leave, everything will magically be fine?"

"I don’t care if it’s safer. I just want out. I can’t stand being here with you anymore, with the way you’ve been acting."

“I act this way because I have to. This world isn’t for someone like you.”

“The world is this way because of people like you! Maybe my father was right about pirates, considering people like you were the ones who killed her,” you spat. "Stop acting like you know me. You don’t know what I can handle, and I don’t need you making that choice for me. If we get near Elysport, I’m leaving."

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "We’ll talk about this later,” he said before turning to the door.

“Damn him.”

You didn’t care what Gojou thought or what he claimed. You were done with being treated like you were a piece of cargo who he could just push around whenever he felt like it. Besides, you could check up on how your father was doing if you went back to Elysport. Before leaving, you never spoke to your father much, except for the occasional holiday or whenever he was in the right mind to chat. You thought about how panicked he must be, knowing his only daughter was missing. Did he pray to God to bring you home the same he did all those years ago? You wondered if he was spiraling like he did after your mother’s death or if he was holding it together. You wondered if he was hoping his little girl's body would wash up on shore just as his wife’s did fourteen years ago. The two of you may have been distant in the last few years, but he was your father, and you loved him. You were a daddy’s girl through and through.

You wanted to go home.

“Sweetheart, you got lucky. We’re going to a place close enough to Elysport for you to take a carriage.”

You looked up from the book you were reading to see Gojou standing in the doorway. You were sitting on Gojou’s bed reading one of his books with your ankle propped up on a pillow. You were surprised to hear that they were going in that general direction, considering their constant need to be in danger. Plus, you were surprised to hear that he was even letting you leave with his atrocious behavior.

“Oh, really? I’m surprised you’re even letting me off this ship,” you breathed.

“I had a discussion with the rest of the crew, and they decided it would be best for you to leave if you truly want to. Yuuji was pretty opposed to the idea. The kid likes talking to you.”

“Well, that makes everyone else infinitely more likable than you. Oh, and also, you can keep the map; I don’t want it. It’s caused me enough trouble as it is, seeing I’m here with you.”

“Can you not be bratty for five minutes?”

“Can you not be an asshole for five minutes?”

“You should behave more like how you did on the island, submissive and silent. I liked you better then.” he spat. “Be more grateful we’re going anywhere near Elysport since we need a restock on supplies. For some reason, more supplies have been going missing even though you don’t even eat much or use much of it.”

It had been a few days since your accident, and your ankle was healing quite nicely. You could finally walk on it just in time to make it to Hinsoll Port, a port neighboring Elysport. For some reason, Gojou let you stay in his room, which you will admit was pretty nice of him. When you slept, he would sleep on his chair, and to be honest, it made you feel bad because of how uncomfortable it looked.

The day you got to the port, you stood at the edge of the dock as the wind tousled your hair. And for the first time in days, you finally felt free. You had been dropped off by Gojou while his ship was being restocked, and Yuuji was quite sad to see you go, so maybe he wasn’t lying about that. You had packed the little amount of stuff you had brought along with you and began walking down the dock. Regretfully, you decided to turn around, and low and behold, Gojou was leaning on the ship, watching you leave. He didn’t come to say goodbye as the rest of the crew had, and you just chalked it up to him being a self-righteous asshole.

Gojou had made it clear. We’re not going directly to Elysport, but close enough for you to take a carriage. You felt a pang of regret as you walked down the dock, as you were leaving behind a life you had known for only a month. Had it really been that long? You thought back to when Gojou had said sorry for once the night he had called you a whore and had carried you to a hotel so the two of you wouldn’t have to walk back. But that was before you had started this whole treasure hunt, and the last “hunt was disastrous. Even so, didn’t they need part of that for said treasure, and they don’t have it? Oh well, it’s not your problem anymore.

You made your way to the carriage station, and soon enough, you were tucked inside as the wooden wheels creaked beneath you. Your fingers played with the fabric of your skirts while the sound of hooves against dirt calmed your nerves.

When the late afternoon hit, you could see the streets of Elysport as the carriage came to a halt in front of your father’s house. The moment your foot hit the ground, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. The city port smelled exactly the same as it had the day you left. It was kind of like an old friend pulling you into a warm embrace.

You hesitated for a moment while standing at the wooden door of your childhood home. It was a modest home ticked away on a quiet street. You used to take care of your father’s garden every once in a while, but it had since grown a bit wild in your absence. Your heart pounded in your chest as you raised your hand to knock on the door, unsure of how he would react to seeing you after being gone for a month.

The door creaked open, and there he was. Your father stood in the doorway, his face haint and his eyes sunken in. But the moment he saw you, his expression shifted into shock, disbelief, and finally, joy.

His arms were around you before you could say a word. “Thank God,” he whispered as he buried his face in your hair. “Thank God for bringing my little girl home.” You melted into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the stray tears that had slipped down your cheeks. “I prayed every night for you, hoping you'd come back to me.”

“I’m here now. I’m home.”

Your father just held you, and it was as if he was afraid that if he were to let go, you would disappear again. Eventually, he stepped back, his eyes glazed over, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Could you do me a favor, darling? The market’s still open. Would you pick me up some herbs? I was thinking of making a stew tonight since you came home.”

You nodded quickly, eager to please and eager to slip back into a normal routine. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

The marketplace was just as lively as you remembered. The sounds of laughter and conversation filled the air, along with baked goods and roast meats. As you made your way through the crowd, picking up the herbs your father had requested, you caught sight of an unfamiliar figure at the edge of the market. He stood out like a sore thumb—leaning casually against a stall. His pink hair stood out against the drab green and browns of the market, but it was the tattoos curling along his face that truly set him apart.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

You were startled by the sudden appearance of the man with pink hair. You swallowed, unsure of how to respond. “We’ve heard about you. A traveler, are you not? Someone who’s seen more than they probably should.”

You blinked, confusion flooding your mind. “I—no, I’m just—”

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t looking for something. We all are.”

“I’m just here for my father,” you said, your voice coming out smaller than you intended.

"Of course you are. But that doesn’t mean you have to leave empty-handed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say,” Sukuna said, his grin widening, “we have an offer you can’t refuse. One that doesn’t involve treasure. All you need to do is listen.”

“What is this offer?”

“You know,” he began. “I thought I’d made it simple. Put up the wanted signs, sit back, and wait for you to be brought to me, along with the map.”

So that’s what he wants.

“I don’t have the map.”

Then, with a disappointed sigh, he stepped closer. “What a shame,” he murmured.“I was hoping you’d make things easier for me.”

“I told you, I don’t have it.”

“She’s telling the truth, you know. No point in lying about something like this.” This voice was a different one. It came from a small woman with white hair and an irregular line of dark plum pink running across the back of their head.

“Pity. Because if you did have it, we might’ve come to some sort of... understanding.”

“Funny thing, though. I hear that Captain Gojou, your kind-hearted protector, might’ve had something to do with your mother’s... untimely end.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, just rumors. But if you’re curious—really curious—you could always find out for yourself. All it would take is a little favor. Get us that map from Gojou, and we’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“I... I don’t know.”

Captain Gojou was crazy, but he wasn’t that crazy.

“Well, take your time. But don’t take too long. You wouldn’t want the truth slipping through your fingers, now would you?”

“I’ll think about it,” you muttered, trying to buy yourself some time.

“Good girl,” Sukuna purred, his grin widening. “We’ll be waiting.”

You returned home clutching the herbs your father requested. The sky had darkened as the last rays of daylight turned into twilight. Your father sat in his chair by the window, the evening light casting shadows across his face.

“Got what you asked for,” you said quietly, setting the herbs down on the table.

He gave you a small nod, but his gaze lingered on you longer than usual. He could sense something was wrong since he had always been able to read you like an open book.

“What’s on your mind, love?” he asked gently, leaning forward with concern etched into his features.

You hesitated, unsure of how to begin. “Dad,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if I told you... I could find out who killed Mom?”

The words hung in the air between the two of you, and for a moment, there was only silence. “What are you talking about?”

“I... I ran into someone at the market today. They said they knew... who might be behind it. But they need a favor.”

Your father’s brows furrowed. “Who are these people? What favor?”

“They want something from Captain Gojou. They want me to... get it for them. In exchange, they’ll tell me what happened to Mom.”

“And you believe them?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But if there’s even a chance... don’t you want to know the truth?”

His jaw tightened, and you thought he might refuse. But then, he sighed heavily, the years of pain and grief evident in the lines of his face. “I’ve spent fourteen years wondering who took her from us,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “If there’s a chance, even a small one, to finally get justice… then you do it. Find out who killed her.”

“You... you’re okay with me going back?”

“I’ve been waiting for this moment. Whoever killed your mother... I’ll see to it they pay.”

The sky was pitch black by the time you slipped into bed. You thought back to the conversation with your father. Although you had made your decision, it wasn’t any less scary. Your heart pounded in your chest as you lay in your childhood bedroom, staring up at the ceiling.

That’s when you heard the faint sound of footsteps outside your window. You sat up and looked towards the window, but you saw nothing, so you decided to ignore it, thinking it was a drunk passerby trying to get home. All of a sudden, you heard a knock at the window, and you saw a figure standing there. Before you could react, your small window was yanked open.

Of fucking course he’s here.

Gojou stood in the window frame, his white hair almost glowing in the dim moonlight.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered.

He hopped inside before closing the window behind him. “I told you it was dangerous to be here. And yet, here you are.”

“I’m with my father, Gojou. I’m perfectly fine.”

“You think you’re safe because you’re in your childhood home?” His voice was laced with irritation. “Do you have any idea who’s been hanging around this town?”

Your stomach dropped. He knew about the strange man down by the marketplace. Though you never managed to catch his name.

“I... I can handle myself.”

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“Yeah, that’s what you’ve been telling me since day one,” you muttered.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. And maybe I don’t. But I do know one thing—you’ve been lying to me.”

“What in God's name are you talking about?”

“I know you had something to do with my mother’s death,” you blurted out, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them.

“Your… mother?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“Listen, sweetheart, I haven’t had anything to do with your mother’s death, so don’t get too excited. Besides, I’m only thirty-two. Who told you this information? Was it the man with pink hair you met in the market?”

“It’s none of your business. And since when have you cared who I meet? Last I checked, you could have given two shits about me?”

You were now weary of the information the strange man had given you. And doing the math, he would have only been eighteen years old at the time of your mother’s death. But still, the thought lingered in your mind.

“I should’ve known you’d get involved in something this stupid,” he muttered.

“Take me back.”

Gojou’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Take me back to your crew. Let me come with you. I need to see this through.”

“You want to come back after everything? You just left like yesterday.”

“Yes. I can’t stay here. Not when there are so many questions. Maybe the treasure can help me find out the truth about my mother.”

Lies.

“Are you sure you’re not going to force me to take you back the moment something shitty happens?”

“No, you ass, my father asked me to find out what happened to her.”

“Fine. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you out of my sight.”

“Why would that be.”

“Because you have been talking to strange men, Y/N. I’m not stupid,” he sighed. “Be ready by dawn,” he muttered as he walked back over to the window. “We leave as soon as the tide is in.”

Satoru felt guilty. He felt guilty about his lack of self-control, guilty that he managed to drive the one person who seemed to care away. Guilty about the fact he might hurt you.

Satoru didn’t know why he behaved this way. It’s not that he wanted to behave this way towards you, but that's how it was. He didn't know why he felt inclined to treat you the way he did, and he kept telling himself that this was normal behavior. He didn’t want to admit it, but he really liked the kiss the two of you shared in the hotel room, and he wished to have more of them. But there was something that seemed to stop the two of you from seeing eye to eye, and it was that map.

But there was one more thing Satoru felt guilty about. And that was his dream about you.

Satoru didn’t remember exactly how it started, but all he knew was that you were the last person supposed to be there.

You looked the same as you did a few nights ago, but instead of being in your heavy skirts, you were in a sheer nightgown. You were lying down on his bed facing away from him, and from where he was standing, he could see the outline of your supple breasts and the gentle curve of your waist.

“Sweetheart?” he murmured as he walked closer to where you were lying. As he got closer, he could hear the soft sounds of your cries, and he noticed your shoulders were shaking. He sat down on his bed and put his hand on your shoulder to give you some kind of comfort. Something he couldn’t do to the real you.

“Why do you always hurt me? I’ve done nothing but help you,” you sniffed.

Satisfaction.

Satoru felt a deep satisfaction because you were crying over him.

He shouldn’t have felt that way, but seeing your tears made him feel like he was in control. Just how he liked it. You turned around to face him, and he could see your teary-eyed expression in the candlelight. It made him happy that you suffered all because you liked him.

“You look so pretty when you cry,” he murmured as he stroked your tear-stained cheek.

The dream version of you stared up at him, seemingly analyzing every detail of him with your glossy eyes. You watched as Gojou took off his boots and made his way up his bed to rest his back against the headboard. He gripped your waist and lifted you from where you were sitting to sit on his lap.

“What are you doing in my chambers sitting half-naked and crying, sweetheart?”

“My best wasn’t as comfortable as yours,” you shrugged, ignoring the crying and half-naked part.

“Your bed wasn’t as comfortable as mine? Well, we can’t have that, can we, baby?”

You shook your head, docile like a rabbit.

As soon as you sat in his lap, you immediately connected your lips with a soft gesture as he tasted the salt from your tears.

Gojou kissed you passionately as his large hand caressed your face, moving down from your cheeks to your collarbones and back, and finally, his hands rested on your backside. You sighed, leaning into the kiss, desperate to feel the warmth of his body, feeling the familiar heat pool in his belly.

“What do you want me to do, Sweetheart,” Gojou asked, breaking the kiss.

You were silent for a moment before responding, “I want you to fuck me.”

He groaned at your response and flipped the two of you over so that he was on top. You could feel his weight as he ground his hips against the flimsy piece of underwear you wore. You could feel his hardening cock rubbing against your clothed pussy and your inner thigh. He wanted to rip that sheer nightgown off your body and bury his head between your thighs, wondering how you would taste.

“I wanna feel your cock inside me. Please?” you moaned out.

You looked so pretty, so beautiful beneath him. Gojou sat up and made work untying his linen shirt and ridding himself of his breeches, which were practically useless by this point. You helped him untie his top, seemingly eager to be closer to him. When he managed to undo the last string, he pulled down his shorts, revealing his cock that slapped against his stomach.

Fuck he’s so hard, and he’s only dreaming.

There was only one problem: you still had your clothes on, or what could be considered clothes, considering it left nothing to the imagination. Gojou began dragging his fingers along the arousal-soaked underwear you wore. You shuddered when he slipped his hand inside your underwear, gliding his fingers through your soaked folds, almost dipping inside your hole but going back to your clit.

A small moan escaped you, and Gojou decided he wanted to see more, even if it was just a dream. He removed his hand from your underwear, hooked it onto the bands, and muttered, "Lift your hips" to you before removing your underwear. You closed your legs, embarrassed of the mess between your thighs and how wet you were for a man who made you cry and treated you like you were nothing. He pried your legs apart and was greeted by a small patch of hair, and he could see your hole clenching, desperate to be filled.

“Why are you so shy, hm?” He breathed. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Gojou focused his attention back on your neck, feathering soft kisses around the skin before moving to your breasts, lowering the straps of your thin chemise. You were arching your back as he descended further in further until he was face to face with your sopping cunt. He was quick to begin lapping at the entrance with his tongue until you were quietly moaning his name. “S-Satoru!”

It was like music to his ears and Satoru thought he could stay in this dream forever.

“You taste so sweet, sweetheart. I could stay here forever,” he murmured, circling your sensitive bud before looking back at your slit, slightly spreading them apart to look at the mess you made. Satoru took one last look before grabbing his erect manhood and lining it up with your core, sliding his tip against your core to gather some of your arousal before sliding himself in. But before he could do anything his dream started becoming blurry and soon enough, he realized he was going to wake up.

All of a sudden, the world around him began to grow fuzzy, like a painting that was smeared by careless hands. Satoru blinked, trying to clear his vision, but it was ultimately useless. The edges of everything became clearer, and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a cold sweat on his bed in his captain’s chambers.

Satoru clenched his jaw, shaking his head to try and rid the images of his indecent dream. It was just a dream. Though his mind kept drifting back to the way your lips had lingered on his, and the heat of your body that was pressed against his in ways that felt all too real. It that dream he could touch you without restraint, kiss you without hesitation, and indulge in the desire he fought so hard to ignore.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. The frustration was mounting, but there was something else. A wet patch on his breeches. He glanced down and a wave of embarrassment swept over him, realizing how deep his dream had sunk his claws into him.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to push down the storm of emotions, but it was no use. Even here in the safety of his chambers, he couldn’t escape you.

Satoru stared out the small window of his quarters, the moonlight coming through the window, spilling in like silver threads. Why you? Why now? Of all the things haunting his subconscious, why was it you that left him so unhinged?

He needed control—over himself and his thoughts, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to let you go.

cursed seas taglist: @jaegersity @moonlightlexie @avyshi @sukunadckrider @v4mpieres @arabelluhhh4200

note: if you asked to be added to the taglist and i cannot tag you please turn on your tags :)

taglist status: open

#series: cursed seas #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #geto suguru #gojo saturo #toji fushiguro #nanami kento

91 notes · View notes

king-and-his-consorts · 1 year ago

Text

This just makes me think of the East Blue gang.

_ Zoro's always late

_ Sanji's the coffee addict

_ Nami's the bad influence

_ Usopp is always tired

_ And Luffy is constantly hungry.

Luffy is also just all of them.

But I'm the one who possesses each aforementioned trait...😎🤩

#come sail away || ooc #one piece

63 notes · View notes

king-and-his-consorts · 1 year ago

Text

I'm sorry, but really, I can't help myself. Stupid OPLA thoughts.

As someone who obsessively loves both Zolu and Lusan, I have been internally screeching at the top of my lungs all through the last 4 episodes.

I. AM. FUCKIN'. UNWELL!

Seriously, people. I didn't name this blog "King and his consorts" for no reason.

#[Please ignore me as I scream into my fuckin' pillow!#come sail away || ooc #one piece #one piece live action #zolu #lusan

114 notes · View notes

radioisntdead · 3 months ago

Text

No longer you

Adam x F! Reader

Warnings: mild OOC because it's my first time writing for this prick.

Song used

Adam begrudgingly walked down the long heavenly hallway, Lute was left behind to prepare for the extermination that would take place later that very day.

Paintings decorated the walls, ones of his time in Eden with Eve, He wished he could just grab them off the wall and smash them to smithereens but unfortunately he couldn't because Sera would be on his ass about it, as would the folks who painted them.

Eventually he arrived to the door at the other side of the door, immediately pounding on it.

"Hey, Sweet cheeks, I'm here open the fuck up!" He called out.

A loud sigh was heard before the door cracked open, a dove-like cherub flew out.

"The prophet is inside, do keep your voice low as-" the poor cherub was interrupted by the first man,

"Yeah yeah, I know We do this every fucking extermination." Adam proceeded to walk pass the Cherub and walk into the dim room.

You were sat in some fancy looking chair, a floral tea pot infront of you, the light outside shined onto you, you looked positively ethereal through the translucent veil covering your face.

Adam couldn't deny that he got fucking lucky landing you as his wife, and if he could he'd pepper you in kisses and more but alas, he couldn't unless he wanted to get scolded by Sera, not here at least.

In this room you were a prophet, someone who gave him an idea of how each extermination would go, obviously it'd be the same as every other time, they'd kill a bunch of fuckwad sinners and come back, like every other time.

Adam couldn't even open his mouth to say anything before you began to speak.

"I am the prophet with the answers you seek,"

You looked towards him, normally you'd bring a decent vision, but with what you saw, you couldn't state it outright.

"Time, I've unlocked it,"

Adam immediately grimaced at the look of pity you held in your eyes, the last fucking thing he needed was to be pitied, not by you of all people.

"I see past and future running free," you gestured for him to take the seat in front of you.

"There is a world where I help you get home," you picked up the tea pot, you poured the tea within into a matching floral teacup.

Adam sat down the chair creaking from the force he used, he picked up the cup muttering a "Thanks"

"But that's not a world I know," you didn't dare make eye contact with him.

"What?" You heard the teacup get placed back into the table, a droplet flying out and staining the white cloth that covered the aforementioned table.

"I see a song of current romance," you closed your eyes as the visions replayed in your mind, you had a vague idea of who they were having caught a glimpse, The princess of hell and a former exorcist.

"I see the sacrifice of woman,"

So, so many exorcists would lose their lives, and even if you didn't approve of the whole extermination thing, you didn't think they deserved death.

"I see portrayals of betrayal," the image of the day Lute tore Vaggie's wings and eye out flashed.

"And a snake's final stand," Poor guy, he never stood a chance.

You took in a breath, opening your eyes to look Adam in his.

"I see you on the brink of death," you heard Lute's scream, it sent cold shivers down your spine.

"I see you draw your final breath," that smile, that stupid, goofy soft smile of his, that would only be reserved for you usually.

Adam looked unimpressed, not taking your visions seriously, him? Dying? Because of little miss hell's princess? What a joke.

"I see a man who gets to make it home alive, but it's no longer you" It wasn't Adam, but the fallen angel who had stolen away both of his wives.

Adam scoffed, "This can't be,"

"We've slaughtered and sailed through the toughest of hells," He waved his hand around in a circular motion.

''Now you tell us our efforts fail now?" You sigh as you slip out of your seat, standing up.

"I see her hotel covered in gold," truthfully you saw it in rumble, but the angelic golden blood was spilled up on it.

"Faces of sinners who had long believed you invincible," you saw them cheering, cheering at the fact that the first man, the man you loved for some reason, was dead.

"I see your wife with a man who is haunting," you saw him, no longer as he was now, no longer a winner but a sinner like those he slaughtered each year.

Adam on the other hand immediately thought that you meant Lucifer.

You prayed that he wouldn't break the porcelain tea set that rested on the table, it was gift from Emily.

"A man with a trail of bodies," "Who?!" He stood and shouted with such anger that a normal person would flinch, but you simply pointed your finger to him.

He visibly relaxed at that, still on edge on whatever you could mean with the word choice of haunting.

"I see a song of past romance," you saw Eve relaxing on a beach, or who you thought was Eve.

You moved, taking Adams hands in yours, locking eyes,

"Adam, I see the sacrifice of woman, I see portrayals of betrayal," he turned away from you,

"And a snake's final stand," you moved to pull his head towards you.

"My love, I see you on the brink of death, I see you draw your final breath," the faint trace of tears filled your eyes as Adam rolled his.

he didn't believe you for whatever reason, was it the over abundance of confidence that he had in his exorcists? The very ones that would perish, that would lose their lives and their friends.

Adam scoffed, grabbing your face taking the chance to plant a kiss on it.

"Relax Sweet cheeks, it'll be like every other extermination, we go down there, fucking slaughter them then come back and party like every other time,"

"Adam, did you not hear a single word of what I was saying?"

"Yeah, yeah I die or whatever, which is impossible because if you forgot, I'm the first fucking man, dickmaster sixty-" a knock was heard at the door, causing you to snap your head at it.

"Sir Adam? Lieutenant Lute told me to tell you that it's almost time." The Cherub from earlier called out, causing Adam to groan, "Adam, please-" "You got nothing to fucking worry about Sweet cheeks, see you later." He booped your nose for whatever reason before leaving, slamming the door behind him.

You watched as the remaining Exorcists returned, injured, traumatized and without Adam.

You sighed as leaned against the window frame in the house you shared with Adam, glancing out the window at the night sky you fiddled with his Halo.

"I see a man who gets to make it home alive," you tossed it onto the bed before looking back at the window.

"But it's no longer you."

Oh you were so going to tell him 'I told you so' the moment you saw him again.

Good evenin' folks! Surprise surprise I actually posted on Wednesday! Now I do hope you enjoyed this little thing with Adam, it did not come out as angsty as I would've liked, but I got another future seeing reader fic slow cooking in my WIPs only that one is a TAD bit more angsty! As always thank you for tunin' on in! Thank you and goodnight!

Psst! Join our discord, it's kinda dead rn!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader

61 notes · View notes

hey-august · 10 months ago

Note

August, if you ever wonder if some of your readership would like to hear your thoughts about Buggy and Reader in a poly relationship with either crossguild or Shuggy… WELP. There’s at least one.

I just want that clown to smooch me and also several other men who may or may not scare the shit out of him or incite deep feelings of rage in him. He’s very smoochable and I’m willing to share (and I just like to think about the added hilarity with any of these characters still in the picture)

omgggg yes!! I deeply adore the dynamics of all those relationships. The clown is just so...adaptable? Blendable? Sharable? Adorable.

I do have some Shanks x Buggy x Reader headcanons to share!

But first, for Cross Guild x Reader needs, I so strongly recommend @discordantwritings stories here (I'm pretty sure Our Precious Assistant Pt 2 changed my brain chemistry) and @turtletaubwrites' Numbers Game, which just started and is so good already. ❤️❤️❤️

Nowwww, let's talk Shuggy x Reader.

Word count: ~1.2k Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, shanks x buggy x GN!reader, mix of fluffy and smutty thoughts, teasing, oral reader + m receiving, insertion sex, threesome, some praise, sorry for anything that's extremely ooc

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Date Nights

The first time you had a planned date with Shanks, Buggy sailed away so “date night” became “date week.” Buggy was jealous and embarrassed, which you both expected. You were annoyed at first, because this had been planned and discussed, but talking with Shanks calmed you down. This was new territory for all of you and it would take time to navigate. So when Buggy came back, no one made a fuss about it. If anything, you and Shanks were a little softer and a little kinder with the clown. Buggy picked up on the acceptance in your actions and it made him feel better. This also kicked off weekend-long dates, which you all look forward to.

One of your favorite dates with Shanks was when he took you to a town he frequented. The afternoon was spent strolling Main Street and shopping, although that was more of an excuse for Shanks to show you off. The evening ended at a cozy pub where he regaled you with alluring tales. Even though you heard some of them before, listening to him talk puts stars in your eyes. An expression that simply melts him.

Your favorite Buggy date was actually a party on his ship. You two were inseparable the entire night and the highlight was singing along to music at the end of the night. “Singing.” You were both bottles deep and could hardly get full words out, but the (hazy) memory of laughing and giggling your ways through the inebriated performance while holding on to each other always makes you smile. Buggy often catches that particular goofy grin on your face and he just adores it.

Buggy and Shanks also spend time together, which is surprising-not surprising. Buggy might claim that he’s upset with Shanks and needs to go yell at him, or wants to gloat about something. Shanks tries to entice Buggy with the promise of shiny goodies and treasure. Everyone knows it’s a farce, but it’s how they show they care for each other. There’s no denying the sparks in their eyes afterwards.

Petty Arguments

When these two get together, their inner children teens come out in full swing. And so do the jokes and petty arguments.

Shanks messes with Buggy any chance he gets. Teasing comments, swapping his nearly empty drink with Buggy’s fuller glass, dumb jokes.

He’ll also tease you, but in the form of cheesy pick-up lines. “If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put U and I together.” “I was feeling a little off today, but you've turned me on again.” “Did you do something to my eyes? I can't seem to take them off you.”

Buggy can’t stand when your attention is on Shanks for too long, so he’ll try and out-do the other pirate. He has a repertoire of card drinks and sleight of hands, which often do the trick.

Shanks knows what Buggy is doing and teases him. “I know you’re a performer, but there’s no need to make a scene.” Buggy didn’t like that one.

There was the one time Buggy challenged Shanks to a juggling challenge. When Shanks declined, Buggy was ready with his own comeback. “It’s not because of the arm, it’s because he doesn’t have the balls.” Surprisingly, that spurred Shanks into joining the 2-man competition.

Speaking of being competitive…

Sex with them individually is nothing like having sex all together.

At first, you were often at the mercy of the two men who were intent on proving how well they could pleasure you. Once, they wanted to see who was better at oral and could make you cum the most times. The more orgasms you had, the less lucid you became and the competition turned into finding out who would you beg to fuck you. Even though the countless orgasms emptied your head, you remembered that this all started with oral and you didn’t want to mess with the rules of their contest. When they realized you were trying so hard not to whine and ask for their dicks, they started asking you. - “Baby, want me to fuck you? C’mon, don’t you want to feel this inside you?” - “You look so good on my tongue, but you’d look better on my cock. Tell me you want it.”

Unfortunately (fortunately?) there was no clear winner. Buggy was between your legs yet again, with your fingers entwined in his hair and your head was flopped to the side. You said “please, want you inside,” but they couldn’t agree on who you were talking to. Shanks is adamant that you were looking at him, but Buggy calls bullshit and claims you were talking to him because he was the one making you feel good.

There are sessions where you and Shanks focus more on Buggy. It took a lot of time for Buggy to feel relaxed enough to accept the attention, but you two wore him down and won him over. He’ll rarely admit it, but Buggy loves being sandwiched between you and Shanks. The feeling of sinking his cock into you while he’s stretched around Shanks is so overwhelmingly delicious that Buggy gets greedy. He can’t get enough of moving his hips so he can fuck you and fuck himself on Shanks’ cock. The sweet moans and whimpers he releases are intoxicating. Buggy’s often the first to cum in this position, but Shanks will continue to fuck you through Buggy, knowing how to maneuver Buggy’s hips and thrust until you climax.

In turn, there are the moments where you and Buggy cater to Shanks. He never gets tired of watching you and Buggy fight to suck his leaking cock. The way you struggle to throat his member while Buggy focuses on smearing his face paint on Shanks’ thighs and balls through sloppy kisses is a vision that gets Shanks hard at a moment’s notice. Buggy’s attention is fierce and demanding - he’s trying to unravel Shanks entirely. It's a power trip thing. Whereas you balance that heat with restrained touches. When Shanks cums in your mouth, you always share with Buggy and make sure to show Shanks that you both swallowed his entire load. Seeing you hold Buggy by his hair and squeezing the clown's cheeks to present his empty mouth is a sinfully beautiful encore.

Your favorite times are the ones where you get to spoil Shanks and Buggy. You tend and care to their needs. Your gentleness wipes away their fierce competitive streaks. You make sure that you give them both a surplus of attention and shower them with desire. If you’re riding or under one, your hands and eyes are on the other. You pour praise and compliments until they’re overflowing. And the way it overflows is music to your ears. They turn the praise to you and to each other. - “You look amazing on Buggy’s cock.” - “Get on Shanks and make him feel good, I wanna see that sweet face you make.” - “Pretty thing, you’re taking him so well.” - “Good job, you know how to make him moan so loud.” - “You’re going to make him cum, keep going.”

The cuddles after these sessions? Heavenly. Amazing. Buggy, who normally takes up the entire bed, sleeps so peacefully when you and Shanks are on either side of him. Sometimes, when Buggy passes out first, you’ll claim the middle spot and wake up to the two pirates wrapped around you. It’s a little sweaty and a lot comforting.

174 notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 10 months ago

Text

Distraction / Dracule Mihawk Imagine

Request: Hello! I was wondering if I could request a Mihawk x Reader that’s kinda enemies to lovers. I’m super in love with the whole ‘they hate each other but their constant bickering is bordering on blatant flirting’. Thank you so much ^~^

Babes you are so right!! This is so sweet oh my goodness!! :) Sorry if this is really OOC, its my first time writing for Mihawk!

This was fun to write, but it took me a while - so if you liked it, or if you want a follow on, please leave a comment!

Warning: a little strong language, mentions of knives!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @bangnyfes.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

The exhale that left your nose at the sound of his voice would have been squally enough to shatter stone.

It had only been a meagre three days of uninterrupted peace before the cursed Dracule Mihawk arrived. Three. Days. True, your Captain and your fellow Red Haired Pirates had spent most of the hours here celebrating: emptying your dwindling crate supplies of poor Lucky Roux's lamb legs, unloading all the bottles of sweet liquor graciously donated to Shanks (or wily guerdoned by a female admirer off the coast of Syrup Village), and dripping every bottle dry until half the crew was splayed out on hammocks, and the other half was link-armed dancing underneath the endless ocean of drifting stars.

'For someone who's supposed to be a lookout, your observational skills are... well, decidedly more lacking than a sea cow's.'

As much as you loved Shanks, sometimes you wanted to grab his shoulders and give him a hard shake, trying to wipe that shrewd smile off his face. You hadn't even been granted any time to properly wake up; you had flung your arm over your squinting eyes, desperately trying to figure out why there was a looming shadow growing on the edge of your vision. Turned out, that as soon as that blasted coffin-shaped cruiser had come cruising past the white shores of Shank's base island, the man had nearly tripped over his feet to come leer over you like a grinning meerkat.

Look out duty? He had put you on look out duty!? With the brutish, blazing sun scorching across your bedraggled head? With the salty spray of the spring sea stretching its foamy fingers up across the shore and chilling your feet on this dusty, forgotten pocket of the East Blue? With the infuriating, pestering, testing, teasing Dracule Mihawk? Part of you was exasperated: you had been hoping for at least a week of recuperation before Shanks sailed off again for Yukiryu Island. Another part of you was dissatisfied that it had taken the swordsman so long to show up.

You hum in response as Mihawk's lengthening shadow shudders across your eyelids; feeling the cool chill that followed the flick of his coat around his boots, you don't even bother to open your eye and glare at the man. Instead, you dig your heels further down into the wet grains: legs stretched out and arms crossed tightly around your chest, lounging against the cragged edge of mossy crevice behind your back.

'I noticed you', you reply after a moment of pregnant silence. You fidget, trying your best not to give away the fact that your back was starting to ache from staying so *nonchalantly* perched in this position; to not give the man any ammunition. It really, really did not help your pride that his piercing eyes seemed to be mocking you with the way they glance obviously down the curved outline of your spine. Casting it away as vicarious embarrassment, Mihawk is almost ashamed with the burning realisation that his eyes had been trained over the years to be almost painfully conscious of your every miniscule mannerism.

'I just didn't think it was the effort to open my eyes', you sigh, tilting your head back towards the sun-strengthened field of bright blue swaying across the far yonder. 'There's no threat nearby. Unless-', you beckon your hand out towards the tapering shoreline, 'you count some of the cockles Beckman might stand on with his bare feet.'

'That's why the Captain's always wearing sandals!', you hear echo out from the mouth of the cave looming to your right, followed by the teetering sound of uproarious laughter. Despite the noise of your rancorous crewmates, Mihaw's golden eyes never waver: their piercing intensity focused solely on the edge of your irises as you finally, with a displeased twist of your lips, blink your gaze over to settle firmly on his own.

'I passed at least three Marine vessels during my jaunt over to your little...shack.' The swordsman's head cocks in your direction: his voice is low. Guarded. Unwavering. But you're getting to him. You know you're getting to him. Trying to wash down the waves of heat that begin to flood your vexed cheeks, you curse yourself for being able to read even his most minute idiosyncracies: the way his left eyebrow raises almost a tenth of an inch when he's struck by mild amusement.

'Shack? Shack!' You kick your bare foot off the slippery edge of the lapped rock and take a step out onto the gorge of beach stretching between you and Mihawk, swinging your arms out by your sides. 'Why Dracule, can't you see this is the last refuge of the East Blue - you dare scorn an abode teeming with luxury, good-will, and free booze!'

Another exuberant cheer rings out from Lucky Roux, as the unmistakable sound of two tankards slamming together, followed by a faint slosh and cry of outrage from Yasopp follow in quick procession.

The only hint that Mihawk has heard them is the slight narrowing of his eyes.

'It's not your fault, Hawk-Eyes.' You try to stifle your facetious smirk, instead placing your back against the rock again and fidgeting as if settling back for another snooze. Tipping the edge of your straw hat down to cover your eyes, you duck your chin into your neck and close your eyes, knowing the blatant disregard for Dracule would drive him mad.

'Suppose your eye sight isn't quite what it used to be, considering your advanced age and all.'

The clamour of your crew drowns in your ears by the pause that follows; too obdurate to flick an eye open and observe Mihawk's indignant reaction, you instead allow the sound of out-of-tune shanty singing to be replaced with the almost still whisper of the waves. Of the slight hiss of the balled sun, as it throws down its rays and coats you in nothing but the icy tendrils of Mihawk's obstinate silhouette. Of his sharp suspire twanging in your ear, as his pointed footsteps shift the earthen grains guarding you from his propinquity.

Of his gravelly voice, nearly making you knock the hat off your head as it suddenly flows past your ear.

The sunlight floods your eyes when they finally open, until you can barely see Mihawk: just the flaxen outline of his being as he comes floating up towards you: phantom like, and yet more imposing and colossal than the threat of a thousand Marine ships protruding their helms your way.

'Enough with the pleasantries. I believe I have something that may be of interest to you.'

He reaches into the inner lining of his coat, withdrawing a rolled up piece of parchment. Although you're intrigued, all you dare to do is look inquisitively between Mihawk's outreaching hand, and distrustfully back to his unwavering stare.

Wow, he really was close. You could almost see your reflection in the immaculately polished glaze of Yoru, still strapped on his back; as it turned out, that back just happened to be jutting your way. Mihawk's spine is almost completely arching over your reclining torso, almost blotting out the fringes of the sun, his head bowing as if observing rather flighty prey. Realising you're still stubborn as always: far too headstrong to trust him, or to place your fingers anywhere that could cause you to come into contact with his skin, he sighs and unrolls the treasure map with a flick of his wrist.

You did your best to hold back your snort. Really, you did.

'What, exactly, do you think the Captain will want with a scrappy looking, filth covered, mud covered, blood covered-'

'I didn't say Shanks. I said you. Although your Captain may have been a valiant opponent many years ago, he's now half the man he used to be. '

You chew the inside of your lip, finally rolling on the balls of your feet and coming to a full stand in front of the swordsman; Mihawk, almost unconsciously, straightens his own spine in return.

'You find me valiant, ey?'

He pierces you with the most grating stare he can muster.

'I find you wanting.'

The tang of salt seething off the bubbling sea could do nothing to burn away the fizzling want and joint annoyance banging against your ribcage, nor could the cool pinch of the jagged stone distract you from how restless you were feeling with Mihawk leaning so close.

'I bet I could find this treasure before you with my eyes blindfolded and my hands tied behind my back.'

The tangy breeze curls the strands of hair loosened behind his right ear, and by all the wishes in the world did you want so badly to tuck it back into place.

'Careful now, turtle.' He takes another step forward, effectively pinning you between the cove wall and his rigid chest. For the first time since your injudicious acquaintance with the warlord, you could feel it beat... no, feel it slam almost erratically. It seemed to jolt so ferociously against his pec, if he weren't restraining himself from taking another step forward and diminishing you completely, you would have been able to feel it against the unbuttoned cotton of your shirt. 'You've been spending far too much time around Shanks. We wouldn't want to step on that shell and have it crack.'

'You want to go out searching for treasure... you? With a map that looks like it's been pulled out of a goldfish's behind.'

He takes that final step forward, and as the buckle of his belt hits against the top of your groin, you find your obstinate bearing falter far faster than you were proud to admit.

'I find myself bored, and you may provide a fleeting distraction.'

The trimmed hair coating his jaw feels warm as it glides across the side of your cheek, but you still can't help but tremble. His voice: gruff and warm as it rumbles a devastating gale across the side of your nose nearly makes your breath hitch. Nearly. But just the mere thought: the mere tremble of your pulse point as you tried to swallow back down your pride as its slippery tendrils latched and slithered its way up the back of your throat was enough to give the game away.

Your thighs tremble as his leg slid up against between your calves, and you gave yourself away completely.

Mihawk's lips turn up at the edges, and the bastard had the audacity to pin your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. Imperturbed, as if unsnarling a feeble swallow's wings clipped by a wild springe, the man looming over your torso raises your face. Closer and closer and closer: his unbreaking gaze almost unnerving. Almost. If it hadn't been for that glint of delight festering in the corner of his swirls.

'Why bother, then?', you swallow thickly. 'If it's not a challenge.'

'I may find it fun.' His hand drops down to your collar bone: his grip firm, resolute, surprisingly warm as his fingertips constrict at the feel of your bare skin.

'No, really', you manage to pant out between laboured breaths, shaking your head out to try and stop yourself from becoming distracted by the racy feeling beginning to ball in the pit of your stomach.

He was playing you, you thought, biting down on your tongue and pretending the pressure of his thumb pad faintly pressing down on the strip of skin just above your left breast wasn't making you go lightheaded. He was toying with you. Snap out of it!

'Tell me the truth, and I'll do it. Why are you really here?'

'Perhaps I just like to see you squirm, like a little rabbit...', his hand rises from his side to slide up the inside of your wrist almost painstakingly slowly, his words dying out once he's encircled the bone with his vice-like grip. The next utterance is caught only by your ear as a whisper in the wind. 'Caught in my snare.'

Although he doesn't cut off your airway - he would never do anything to outright cause you physical harm - the finger still resting on collar bone crawls across your throat. His finger nails scratch like pinpricks from sharpened knives as he claws over your pulse point, before running the side of his finger back underneath your chin.

He looks almost... contemplative, as his eyes dart furtively down to linger over the top seam of your lip.

It's the first time, during all your years of solicitous enmity, that you had ever seen him distracted.

Using the opportunity, you manage to break free of his trance - of his hold on you. Grabbing onto his sleeve, you tug him towards you with all the force shaking through your burning body, appreciating the slight widening of his eyes in surprise as you slam his back against the wall of rock. You press yourself against the taut, constricting muscles of his abdomen, holding one hand firmly against his waist. The other snakes around to pin his wrist against the scrap of trouser by his hip, every cell in your bodies ablaze as he flexes his fingers. They curl into a ball over his fist, dangerously close to brushing across the back of your hand.

He could move you, of course. If he wanted to, he could flick you off him like a stray piece of sand, dusting you off as if you weighed as much as a handful of pebbles.

But he gave it away. God, how hard he had been trying not to: how hard he was trying to stop his body from flushing an increasingly paler shade of white at how mortified he was. How infuriated he was. How ensnared he was.

He didn't move. He gave himself away completely.

All he did was tilt his head back, and half-smiled expectantly at the sound of your dagger being sheathed from its thigh-scabbard; he was intrigued by the way you jutted its tip just below his Adam's apple, tilting his face to meet the steel.

'Don't forget, I still owe you for that time on the Nammu Isles.'

He tuts, eyes shining dangerously in the glare. 'Are you talking about the time I saved your pathetic life?'

You jut your chin forward, imposing your face against his own. 'I mean the time you took my bounty. You better stop talking, oh mighty warlord of the sea, before I shave that pretty little moustache off hair by hair.'

For a moment, there's nothing but the rhythmic brush of his breath against the pursed lines of your full lips: the odd jolt of the tip of his nose hitting against your own as he observes like with the intensity and rigidness of a man possessed.

Without breaking eye contact, he makes as if to lean forward and kiss you, but instead butts his elbow into your stomach and uses your doubled-over state to swipe the knife out of your fingers.

'You may have that back, if you win.' He toys with it, almost looking teasing as he tucks the small blade into his breast pocket.

'I'll take your sword, too.' You wipe your hand across your mouth before placing your palms on your knees, smiling up at the swordsman. You would be damned, if after all this time, you would give him the satisfaction of seeing how flustered he made you.

He bows his head, trying in vain to hide his amusement. He does, however, slap at the hand that's tentatively reaching behind his back, subtly trying to latch on to the hilt of jaded Yoru.

'Of course, if you win. Such a shame that you never stood a chance.'

'I look forward to wielding that sword', you hum in a sing-song tone as you creak your back up again, placing one hand on your hip and your other pointer finger ostentatiously on your chin. Raising your eyes to the sky, you pretend to think deeply as watch two seagulls squawk, stream and tumble past each other, darting through the streaming white clouds. 'I bet I could make some delicious Aburaage with it.'

'And if I win, I look forward to taking that awful hat from you.'

Looking on in disbelief, Shanks shakes his head and tilts back to face the rest of his slack-jaw, gobsmacked crew.

'Right, bets on boys. Which of our beloved numbskulls will be the first to make a move?'

'I mean, he couldn't be more obvious!', Yasopp chimes in, fiddling some loose berries out of his trouser pockets and slamming down into his Captain's awaiting hands. 'I bet he drew that map himself!'

Benn Beckman rolls his eyes, but joins in with the circling chorus of laughter as Shanks slaps his arm against his back. 'It is the fourth time this month he's shown up with a map for Y/n.'

'Well, no matter what happens-', Shanks replies, squatting down onto his hammock again and distractedly counting through the coins he's collected, 'we have to be thankful to Y/n! After all, all proceeds and winnings will be going towards restocking our drink supplies!'

#one piece #one piece imagine #mihawk #mihawk imagine #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk imagine #dracule mihawk x reader #opla #shanks #red haired shanks #shanks imagine #opla imagine

248 notes · View notes

trying-something-n3w · 1 year ago

Text

Dracule Mihawk X Archer!Fem!Reader

Summary: After almost bleeding to death going up against an admiral you find yourself on a dark and gloomy island where your injuries get the best of you. Making your way through the ominous land and standing off with a baboon on steroids you stumble upon a seemingly empty castle. Little did you know that not only was the castle occupied but occupied by a warlord, the world's greatest swordsman in training, and... A ghost girl?

word count: +5k

Warnings: blood, fighting, Zoro being Zoro, ooc Akainu, reader gets a bounty eventually, stealing from the marines, intrigued Mihawk, unsuspecting Kobe, feels for Mihawk, slow burn

Author's Notes: I'm SO happy people seem to like Chapter 1 of Learning Curve (Katakuri x Valkyrie!Fem!Reader) Updates will be slow but I promise it'll be worth the wait! If you ask to be tagged in the series I will def tag you! Anyway! Here is my first Mihawk writing, not sure if it will continue but let me know if you want more!

The waves were aggressive in these parts of the sea and you knew it, you just didn't want to admit you didn't know how to sail on your own, especially in the grad line. The blood running down your abdomen wasn't helping either. You hiss trying to tether the sails so you don't drift off course in your little boat. With the rain pelting your face you genuinely didn't know which direction you were going you just knew you had to get far away from here. In the distance behind you, there sits a smoking marine ship up in flames with the distinct shouts of everyone trying to give hurried orders. Your bow lay thrown on the deck with your arrows scattered at your feet. Escaping was particularly hard not knowing a fleet admiral was on board.

What was meant to be a small robbery turned into a wild goose chase the second you crawled over the port side where said admiral was enjoying his tea. You both stare at each other for a solid minute before you laugh, smile, and book it.

Running through the ship grabbing anything that looked of value, your dodging skills came in handy when the bullets started whizzing by your head. You didn’t mean to catch the ship on fire, honestly, that was the admiral's fault.

All the halls look the same to you as you dip in and out of doors. Some meeting rooms, some with bunk beds, and some supply closets.

As you make your way through a kitchen you snag a tasty-looking roll then come face-to-face with Akainu blocking the only other exit in the room. You turn to go back the way you came when three more lieutenants block your way. They bring up their guns as you raise your hands and slowly turn back to the admiral.

“If you give up now we won't have to do this the hard way.” Akainu tried to intimidate you, tried to give you an out but to no avail, you only smirk in response.

“Now where’s the fun in that admiral?” In seconds you draw your bow and an arrow of your creation to send it straight through Akainu. He turns part of his abdomen to lava to avoid the arrow, exactly what you hoped for. A thick wire was attached to the arrow you shot connecting it to your wrist brace. Hitting a switch on your bow the wire starts to coil around the arrow pulling your light frame through the air. Due to Akainu melting half his abdomen to avoid the arrow, you fly through him. You hit the wall hard outside the kitchen with a grunt. That'll bruise for sure. You cut the wire with a blade attached to your thigh and bolt to your left hoping to be heading toward an exit. Unbeknownst to you back in the kitchen the three lieutenants are panicking watching the lava eat through the floor, the hole getting bigger by the minute.

“Well, what are you waiting for go after her!” Akainu’s voice booms. The three lieutenants scatter out the door they were blocking, one dropping his rifle and going after you.

Continuing through the halls you bound past two smaller marines, one with pinkish hair and glasses, the other one with yellow hair and a weird bullcut. With the roll in your mouth, you make eye contact with the pink-haired marine and wink. His face flushes but does nothing to stop you. Rounding through the corridors you come in contact with a few more trainees but you take them out easily. One you knocked in the head with your bow and another you choke tell he passes out. The last one was a little harder engaging in combat with you. His moves were slow, not aiming for any of your vitals so you swiped his legs and carried on.

The alarms start to blare in your ears when you notice the smell of paint burning. You make it to the front deck of the ship, slamming through a door, when you turn to see smoke billowing out from one side of the ship. While fighting off a handful of men one tries to pull your hair. You grimace while giving him a crazed smile as you cut your hair severing his hold on you. To be fair he didn't have a good hold so thankfully there was more length left than you thought. You kick his stomach with your heavy boot and run to a dingy attached to the side of the ship.

Before you can safely lower the small boat you hear a deafening voice calling for more backup on the side you were trying to escape from. You look up and see Akainu standing on the tallest deck, face contorted in anger. You panic and start cutting the rope with the dagger to get as far away as possible. Right before you cut the last line Akainu sends some of his lava in your direction shaped as, who would have guessed, the arrow you shot earlier. You lift your arm swinging hard trying to get through the rope before it hits you. As the line severs and the boat drops you get hit directly in the abdomen, straight to where you aimed at Akainu. The impact of the water was bruising, and the added sting from the wound made you groan in agony while trying to set sail. Thankfully it was not a direct hit, most of Akainu’s shot hit the railing of the ship as you fell.

You drifted from the smoky ship, shooting your head up when you started to hear guns fire. Once the small sail was finally set you paddle to add the extra distance.

This is where you find yourself now, struggling against a storm that came out of nowhere. The Marine ship is now a small dot in the distance as you struggle to tie a piece of ripped cloth around your burned stomach. After, you try to make-shift some shelter from the emergency kit on board to protect yourself from the storm. You tie one last knot in the rope holding the sail then take cover as much as you can. You take a moment to assess your wound before hissing and pulling your shirt back down. Becoming exhausted from your little adventure (disaster) the sound of the thunder becomes a thought in the back of your mind as you drift farther into a warm darkness.

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

Waking up who knows how long after your extravagant exit you find your undersized rig beached on a gloomy island. You try to sit up but hiss at the pain shooting through your torso. You quickly squeeze the wound trying to stop not only the bleeding but the pain. Slowly as you hold your breath you use the side of the boat to lift yourself to your feet. In the distance can be herded wild screams from an animal you hope not to run into. You sway as you take in your surroundings looking from left to right. At the top of a mountain sits an old-looking gray brick castle. Occupied or not you knew you needed to get to some safe cover. Trying and failing to pull the dingy more onshore you give up and hurry to grab your bow and arrows from the makeshift tent on board. Turning to the line of the forest you hesitate only for a second listening to the monstrous noises. The burning in your abdomen makes you take the first step.

Pushing past the first couple of bushes and trees the light becomes scarce with how dense the woods are. You pick up a stick and start taking out spider webs before you run into them venturing forward. With your other hand holding your wound you hurry in the direction of the castle.

The ominous sounds become closer the deeper you go. Noticing a branch snapping and the rustling of leaves you believe something is following you. You pause for a brief moment and hear it again but this time from above you. You turn to look behind you, the shore a small picture in the distance. As you turn to take a step to move on your head gets dizzy and your vision tunnels. For a split second, you thought you were gonna pass out from blood loss but something else kept you awake. A blood-curdling screech sounds from above you confirming that someone or something was tailing you.

You lurch forward and roll on the ground with a deep painful grunt before taking your bow off your back, pointing an arrow at the beast that made contact with the ground behind you. The earth shakes with its landing and your balance almost wavers. The beast stands tall on two feet with a sword in hand. It resembles other monkey species you've run into before but you still don't know exactly what you were up against.

Before it leaps for you, you let an arrow fly at its face. You turn quickly and flee before you can see the arrow burst into a powder on the creature. You glance behind your shoulder not stopping while clutching your side seeing the pinkish hase dissipate and the beast falls forward looking very sleepy. You let out a breath you don't realize you are holding. You haven’t tested the sleeping powder before now so you are very satisfied it seems to work! Before you can fully celebrate you start to hear even more loud beastly calls from the trees above you. They swung from tree to tree after you causing your stomach to drop, they were gaining on you. You pick up your pace hoping it's not too long before you reach the castle. Pushing past some thick shrubbery you almost fall forward as you come across a wide opening. You realize it's a stone path leading to the front doors of the castle.

Still clutching your bleeding abdomen you rush forward not realizing the sounds of the beasts fade the closer you get to said castle. This time when your vision tunnels and your limbs get heavy you fall against tall double doors. You reach your bloodied hand up and start to pound, it may look abandoned and you may be dying but you still have decent common sense no matter how fast you are fading. Knocking was polite. Your blood was a stark contrast to the clean wood of the double door. Just when you think the castle is indeed abandoned you hear a female voice call from within. It didn't sound like it was directed to you but to others inside. You take a stumble back hearing a lock click before the door creaks open. Before you see anyone you hear the female voice speak again.

“This better be good enough to interrupt my baking sesh otherwise I swear-” Cutting in you feel warmth fill your mouth.

“Help ple-” Instead of finishing the sentence blood pools your mouth and spills over. You lift your hand trying to stop it from leaking out but there is too much.

The younger girl with pink hair and frilly apron gasps, eyes widening as she yanks the door wider.

“ZORO!” She shouts and before you can comprehend it there is a male presence next to you. Your eyes water with the realization that you might not make this one out alive.

The green-haired male lifts your figure and halls you inside. Passing the threshold you become limp in his arms.

“Perona get Mihawk now.” Zoro says sternly yet he stays calm overall. The pinkette disappears down some hall as Zoro walks you down some corridors. The lights overhead are fading with every blink. You clutch onto Zoro’s shirt trying to stay conscious. He eventually kicks a door open and walks into a well-lit room.

Zoro is talking to you, asking you questions trying to keep you conscious. You don't understand the words he says but you can still see his lips moving. Zoro lightly sets you on what you assume to be a bed before he rushes over to a table with some drawers on it.

Turning your head you try to speak but nothing but blood splatters the white sheets.

“Don't do that you'll make it worse.” You hear in the distance. Zoro is back with rags, gauze, and other things you didn't quite recognize in your hazy state. You hear more than feel Zoro rip your shirt open before pressing a rag to your wound. You don't hiss or react only close your eyes and let the tears flow. In the distance you hear the sound of clicking heals and heavy footsteps. A minute or so later the door to what you assume to be a medical ward opens swiftly. The pink-haired girl stands in the doorway with a tall and intimidating figure behind her.

The first thing you notice are his striking golden eyes. If you weren't dying you'd be blushing because of his intense stare. The second thing you notice as your eyes drift is the pinched look on the girl's face. Did you look that bad?

“What is going on here?” The taller figure asks with a clipped tone. Perona, as Zoro called her, glances at the greenette and then back up at the man beside her.

“We aren't 100% sure, she was banging on the front door and this is how we found her.” Zoro removes the bloodied cloth from your wound to examine it.

“Mihawk this looks bad, it's a major burn wound and it won't stop bleeding from the main laceration.” Zoro turns on his heels to face the two. “If we don't do something she is going to die.”

Perona looks up to who you now know as Mihawk, his face is blank. You don't recognize the name at first in your state but you feel like you should be more scared of the man in the doorway. His eyes shift down from Zoro’s face to yours. You hope your eyes were expressive enough to get across your plea for help. Perona shifts uneasily as Mihawk stays still, unmoving. With a deep sigh, he uncrosses his arms and steps in. Rolling up his sleeves he proclaims,

“Fine but you are in charge of her when she wakes Perona.” Some type of relief falls over your body and you sag with exhaustion.

“Me!? Why me?!” Perona shouts at Mihawk for assigning her to nurse duty. Zoro gets out of Mihawk's way as he sits down to examine your wound. He feels your forehead, eyes slightly scowling knowing you are likely running a fever as well. Mihawk starts listing off things for Zoro and Perona to get for him to work on you but your consciousness is fading fast. Mihawk notices with a side glance and tilts his head to you.

“Sleep. You won't want to feel this.” These are the last words you remember before the darkness takes hold of your body.

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

Two days pass unbeknownst to you. Your sleeping figure fighting against the wound and the fever. Zoro goes about his business training though stopping by whenever he seems to stumble upon the medical ward. His straight face was easily readable to Perona, knowing he was worried about the stranger lying unconscious in the bed. Perona was bouncing around the infirmary rinsing cool rags and setting them on your head, she also changed your wound dressings when she noticed them getting a little too red. Most of the bleeding stopped by the first night but every once in a while you would jolt in your sleep and a new gush of blood would slowly seep through the dressings.

If Perona wasn't taking care of you she was sitting next to you reading and sipping on some tea. Mihawk hovers only to see when you would wake up. On the second night, everyone retires for the evening when you wake up with a start. You gasp with wide eyes as you try to remember where you were. The room is dark with only the moonlight and a single candle illuminating the wide space. Your hand makes its way to the throbbing of your side to find newly wrapped gauze and padding. You slowly move the blankets and shirt to look down at yourself. Admiring a job well done you try to sit up. The pain that shoots through you makes you hesitate but you push yourself. You swing your feet over to have them land on cool tiling. You notice you weren't in your original clothing, now sporting loose joggers and a loose-fitting top. You take a deep breath almost gagging at how sterile the room is, you could almost taste it.

Taking small light steps you make your way to the door opening it slowly. You lean heavily on the door frame when entering the hall. You look both ways before you notice a very faint light coming from the end of the hall around the corner. Relying on the stability of the wall you make your way past paintings and doors. Once you reach the end of the hall you turn to find an archway about a quarter way down the corridor. Hissing at the sharp pain when you try to stand straight you step forward anyway. Reaching the warm light you now see a cozy yet large library with a fireplace burning on one side of the room. Your eyes widen at the vast collection of books. You take one step inside before you feel a hand grab your left arm.

“You are supposed to be resting little one.” You gasp at the light hold and deep voice. Whipping your head to the side you meet the same piercing gold eyes with the same intense stare. You have to crane your neck to fully meet his gaze. You stutter trying to respond but before you can Mihawk is leading you to a sofa in front of the fireplace. A book lay abandoned on the arm of the couch which you assume he was occupying before you interrupted. He sat you down gingerly before taking a seat in the chair diagonal from you. You clear your throat when you finally find your voice.

“Thank you… For everything. I wasn’t aware this castle was occupied when I landed here but I am very grateful it was. All of you saved my life.” You stare into the fire mesmerized by the dancing flames. You glance at Mihawk nervous now conscious of who he was. First an admiral and now a warlord. What next? The king of the pirates?

Mihawk sat frozen with his legs crossed and his hands conjoined above his mouth just observing you. You shift under his gaze and look back to the fire. Before you find the words to continue Mihawk breaks his silence.

“The other two showed up in similar states. At this point, it's like I’m running a hospital.” You turn away and grimace. You knew you were being a burden but he didn't need to say it so coldly. As if reading your thoughts Mihawk continues seemingly unbothered.

“Perona will be taking care of you as you burn heals. From the looks of your abdomen, you probably won't be able to sail for at least two weeks.” Your eyes widen at his words, just how bad did Akainu get you? Your eyes drift down to your wound where your hand already sat. You were in a good amount of pain right now all things considered. Probably not the best idea to wonder for too long.

“Either way, thank you for your hospitality and I’ll work hard to get out of your hair soon enough Sir.” You don't meet his eyes but you can feel his gaze on you, his eyes raking over your body. To you, he’s analyzing if you were to become a threat. In reality, he was wondering how much longer you would stay conscious. You have some pretty heavy pain meds in your system now so for you to be holding a conversation was impressive. Not that he would admit that.

“Mihawk is fine.” This is when you finally meet his eyes. Expecting his intense and methodical stare you were surprised to see curiosity and interest. You turn your head back to the fireplace in hopes the glow of the flames could mask your slight blush. His eyes were gorgeous when not giving someone the death glare.

“Since you seem fine enough to hold a basic conversation, I am intrigued to know how you stumbled upon my land and home. Do tell little one.” Mihawk uncrosses his legs and stands. He walks over to a wine rack and picks a bottle easily. “Wine?” He questions without turning around. You take a chance to admire his back muscles while you can.

“Please. That sounds fantastic. And the names (Y/n) for your information.” You wear a hint of a smile enjoying your banter with the warlord. Mihawk walks back to his seat across from you and sets down two wine glasses. He fills them equally and leans back taking a long sip. You grab yours and smell, you’ve always enjoyed a nice aroma to your wine. Taking a sip you lean back as well, relaxing on the sofa.

“Well, where do I even begin? First and foremost, I am a traveling merchant. I get hired to do odd jobs as I travel around from island to island. My skills are a wide variety from handling a bow and arrow to basic construction to hunting people down. I like to keep people on their toes. Currently, I am between jobs, I was sailing to Water 7 when I came in contact with a Marine vessel. It was smaller, maybe a cargo ship. I thought since I am low on funds, what's a little scavenger hunt gonna do?” You take another sip of your wine before setting down the glass on the low table in front of you. Resting your elbows on your knees you warm your hands up and rest them against your face.

“I didn't know there was a fleet admiral on board at the time. Let alone know it was Akainu.” You side glance at Mihawk and see the barest twitch of his eyebrows. You take that as a queue to continue.

“I climbed aboard not thinking much of it at the time but I should have scoped it out more beforehand. I should have absorbed my surroundings and should have followed the ship for a while before boarding. There was plenty I could have done at the moment to prevent what happened but… I slipped up. I was starving, being out at sea for so long without food and water will do that to ya I guess.” Your shoulders slump as you sag backward. “At first when I got past him I thought I was in the clear. I should have known from the moment I set foot on the deck that I wasn't getting away unscathed. After running around for a while and tumbling through marine after marine he finally spotted my getaway. Before I knew it I was dropping a dinghy into the water and my abdomen was bleeding. My goal was Water 7 but a storm swept in. My old rig being left behind I set sail and hoped for the best.”

You were leaving out key details like the amount you got off the ship or how you got jumped by a baboon on steroids on your way to his castle but he didn't need to know that. You open your eyes to look at the man beside you and notice he is looking into the fireplace. You couldn’t recognize the emotions you saw in his eyes but you assumed it was nothing bad considering you were still sitting next to the warlord. For a brief moment, you didn’t think he would say anything but he surprised you by setting down his now-empty wine glass and standing. You follow his movements out of your peripheral and take the last swig of your wine. Before a second thought crosses your mind Mihawk then extends his hand in invitation. You glance at his hand and then up to meet his eyes but he still looks towards the fire. You set your wine glass down next to his and proceed to stand. Or, attempt to stand, that is. As you flex your abdomine to gain balance a sharp pain runs through your stomach. You hiss as you drop back on the sofa. You look up to Mihawk again now understanding his gesture. You take his hand without looking at his face and he helps you stand on your own two feet.

“You must be hungry. I always say a good wine requires a good snack.” Mihawk lets you lean some weight onto his arm as he leads you out of the library.

“A snack sounds fantastic right about now.” As if in queue your stomach lets out an atrocious growl that reddens your face. Mihawk peeks at you while you look at a very interesting painting as if your stomach didn't drop an atomic bomb in the hallway.

“With the looks of it, I’m surprised you lasted this long without collapsing. Undernourished and injured do not mix well.” It’s as if the briefest hint of a smile crosses Mihawk’s face. You barely catch a glimpse as your eyes dart to his.

“As small as I seem I am one tough cookie thank you very much.” You retort as you raise your head high. “My skills with my bow did not come easily.” You say almost to yourself. Mihawk does not miss this. The rest of the walk to what you assumed to be the kitchen was silent. A comfortable silence as you admire the decor and photos. Most are of landscapes and waterfalls but one in particular caught your attention before you walked past a threshold.

Sitting upon the bleak wall was a massive photo of Yoru, Mihawk’s beloved sword. You pause admiring the beautiful craftwork and detail in the painting. Mihawk glances at the painting before down at you. His gaze sweeps your face admiring the awe in your eyes. He’d never admit it but the look on your face now was almost as beautiful as the painting you admire. With your mouth slightly open and eyes wide you take your time to absorb the scene. Yoru stands tall in the center, leaning up against gold and jewels. The gold cross-guard somehow shone brighter than any piece of jewelry in the painting. The black blade is a contrast to the vibrant colors of the gems surrounding it. Your breath catches in your throat as your memory is thrown to your beloved bow and arrows.

“My stuff. Where is it?” Your voice was slightly colder in tone when you spoke. Mihawk lets you lean against the wall next to the painting of Yoru and takes a step away. He turns and crosses the threshold to the kitchen before responding calmly.

“Your things are in a guest bedroom you will be moving to after you eat.” You visibly calm, the tension leaving your body. You take one last glance at Yoru before proceeding. Your bow and arrows were your most valuable possessions, a gift that could never be replaced. You support more of your weight on your feet as you follow Mihawk. You venture to the island in the middle of the room and sit on a bar stool. Mihawk opens a pantry pulls out a loaf of bread and makes his way to a refrigerator. He proceeds to pull out some ingredients and begins to make you a sandwich. To your amazement, you find a delicious meal presented to you on a porcelain plate within a minute or so.

“Again, thank you…” You glance up at Mihawk before you continue. “You know, for a terrifying warlord you’re very sweet.”

You look from the food to him again. He stands across from you leaning up against the opposite counter. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you can't help but notice the veins running down his forearms and into his hands. A shiver runs down your spine and you take a big bite of the sandwich averting your eyes. Before you can question if Mihawk saw you staring he takes a couple of steps forward resting his hands on the island you sit at. He acts as if your last comment was never said.

“For the next few days, I don't expect you to be up and walking as much. Once you are however we can discuss payment options for my… Services.” Mihawk says with an earnest gaze. Swallowing hard you set the sandwich back onto its place in front of you. Trying to sit up as straight as possible you meet his eyes head-on, trying not to seem intimidated or nervous even when your stomach was in knots. However, you couldn't tell if it was from hunger or anxiety.

“Of course, I understand. Whatever it is I’ll do my best to pay you back. You did save my life after all.” Mihawk just hums in reply and stands.

“Finish your food and I’ll assist you to your room.” With that, he steps out of the kitchen for a moment.

Taking this opportunity you shove your face with the delicious sandwich. Nothing has ever tasted so good after weeks of no food at sea. You slow down reaching the last few bites of the sandwich wanting to savor the flavors like it's your last meal. With your life, you never knew when your last meal was going to be. Licking your fingers and patting your stomach you sigh. With the food now in your full stomach you take a moment to look around the Kitchen. It's a decent size even with the island in the middle of the room. Plenty of cabinets lined the tall walls and a pantry sits in one corner. You wonder if Mihawk likes to cook. With the look of how clean it was he either loved to cook or never did. You stand gingerly trying to walk without the support of a wall or counter. You felt confident the first few steps to the sink but right when you thought you were in the clear a stabbing pain flew through your abdomen making you cringe and fall forward. You were able to lightly toss the plate onto the countertop before hitting the ground on your knees. Before your face falls flat on the hardwood an arm comes across your chest. Even with your hair now blocking your face you knew it was Mihawk from the solid frame and sweet red wine breath. One hand clutches his arm as the other goes to your wound. You inhale sharply feeling yourself start to sweat from the pain.

“Let's get you to your room shall we?” Mihawk’s warm breath fans the top of your head, you squeeze your eyes shut trying to will away the pain.

“Give me a second to catch my breath and I-”

Without warning you are lifted into the air and pressed against a warm chest.

“Please, if you walk now you'll reopen my stitching.” Mihawk begins to walk gently out of the kitchen to a tall set of stairs by the front double doors. You can’t say anything with the warmth that spreads across your face. Hawkeye freaking Mihawk is carrying you up to a guest bedroom and you think your heart is about to jump out of your throat. Whether it is from butterflies or anxiety you couldn't tell.

Mihawk observes you for a brief moment noticing you hiding your face with your hair but chooses not to say anything. He knows his presence is intimidating and even though that is not his goal he can't help it. The persona he has built over the years as an intimidating warlord has protected him and haunted him. Yes, he may not be actively trying to participate with a group of pirates but no one ever said he never got lonely. With Zoro and Perona around, their presence has helped him realize he wouldn’t mind having someone around permanently possibly. Someone he knows is always going to be at home when he returns. What circumstances of the relationship with that person were still unknown to him but having another body around would be nice, to say the least.

Reaching the top of the stairs Mihawk turns to the right and passes a couple doors before stopping in front of one that was slightly ajar. Using his elbow to open it all the way Mihawk turns to not hit you on the door. He walks over to the king-sized bed that was situated at the far wall of the room and lies you gently on the covers. You take in the room, your head on a swivel when you notice all of your belongings on the desk up against a wall. You visibly relax as you turn your attention to Mihawk who is now at the end of the bed. He gestures to a small tray lying on the trunk stationed at the end of the bed.

“If the pain gets any worse take these and they will help you sleep. In the morning I’ll let Perona know you woke up late in the night and she will meet you for breakfast.” Before Mihawk could turn away and exit he gets caught frozen in place. You sat situated in the middle of the bed now, hair frazzled from days of not being washed yet the look you give him makes his heart skip a beat. Your appreciative gaze is crinkled by the wide smile you show him. You look younger, not injured. Your cheeks are rosy from the cool night air and your nose scrunches with your now Cheshire cat smile.

“Thank you Mihawk, truly. I look forward to speaking with you again.” You open your eyes once more and you could have sworn you saw the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink. Before you can see, Mihawk is turning towards the door and making his exit.

“Likewise little one.”

#one piece #dracule mihawk #mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece x reader #anime #dracule mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk

213 notes · View notes

shhh-secret-time · 10 months ago

Text

Another request from A03! I am so very sorry this one took so long I actually had to start this one over a few times because I actually lost a big chunk of it when I first started writing it! Nothing takes the wind out of my sails faster.

Warning: NSFW, Dom!Stan, Sub!Reader, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, Writer doesn't know shit about college or sports ball, Slight Voyeurism, Strong Language, Stan might be a little OOC

Pairing: Stan x Fem!Reader

Notes: Hey uh welcome to this week's episode of, "Writer don't know how to write conflict to save her life!" I'm very bad at coming up with a reason to fight people, it's not in my nature so I'm sorry if it seems forced!

You hated Stan Marsh

You hated him and most of the football players at your university. Them and their spotlight hogging, annoying, disgusting, sweaty, irritating habits! You and your girls bust your ass off at every practice, sports game, and pep rally South Park University places on your teams’ shoulders, and what do you get for it?

To hear things like, "Oooooh did you see how Cartman played center?" or "Clyde is so hot when he takes his helmet off and has that messy hair!" even, "Kyle plays football AND basketball with perfect grades? Why is he soooo perfect!"

But the one that got under your skin the most was Stanely fucking Marsh, the star quarterback. The man walks around the school with his little crowd of admirers everywhere he went, and for what? Just because he throws a stupid ball around and can run quick? Fuck him.

Your girls put in twice the work they do; you've been to every one of their games. You had to. Your group had to coordinate with the football players, the basketball players, the volleyball team, the hockey team, hell you even had to coordinate with the wrestling team. It was exhausting trying to keep up with it all.

And what did your cheer squad get? Perverted remarks and dismissive attitudes! The final straw was when the Cows mascot got more respect than your group did. You brought your complaints up to the school's councilor, to the headmaster, to anyone who would listen.

Word travels fast around the small town of South Park, people dating and breaking up. Who cheated on who, who's throwing the best parties, who threw up in who's car. Shit like that. Not much changes from high school to college, just a lot less sneaking around and more energy drinks and pain meds. So of course, when your complaints got to the one and only Stan Marsh, he confronted you about it.

"Hey! Hey wait up!" His voice rings out past the busy sounds of other students trying to get to their classes. "You're the captain of the cheer squad, right?" He all but corners you while you're walking with your friends, he doesn't have his little squad of goons following him around.

"Are you serious?" How could he not know who you are?! You've only been to every one of his stupid games! Only been sitting on the sidelines of every practice! "Yes! I am! What do you want?!"

Stan flinched back at the venom in your voice but that didn't stop him from shooting you a look. "Uh...did I do something wrong? I heard from one of the guys that you're not exactly...happy and I was just trying to figure out what we did."

"What you did. What did he do girls? Can anyone answer Mr. Marsh's question~?" The tone in your voice did not match the smile on your face. It sounded chipper but anyone listening could tell it was fake.

Your little group always had your back, most of them felt the same way you did. If anything, it just amplified that anger, knowing your girls were feeling underappreciated. It was your job as the captain to protect your girls, but every time you brought it up to them, they seemed to shy away from saying anything.

"Well, geez Stan, you gotta admit your team's been kinda hoggin' the spotlight. You know what I'm tryin' ta say don't ya?" It wasn't just your girls you had to protect; it was your sweet little angel Butters too. Although you guys called him by his first name when cheering with him, he was Leo to you. And right now, Leo was trying to bridge the gap between you and your rival.

"Veeery good Leo! That's right, Stan and his team don't seem to give a shit how hard we work to cheer his team on! The whole school would rather worship the ground their star quarterback walks on!"

"The school doesn't worship the ground I walk on! You can't pin this on me!" Stan shot back trying to defend himself, it was hard not to feel attacked even though you were the only one glaring at him.

A part of you knew that he was right, it really wasn't his fault that small towns in America went crazy for football.

"W-we're not pinnin' anything on ya! Just sayin' maybe, it wouldn't hurt to tell the guys to show us a little bit more respect! You know Eric's been pickin' on me ever since I joined the girls, sayin' some awfully mean things."

"Leo is right! You may not have a hand in the way people think but that's just the problem, you don't do anything to stop it! If you were really the captain of your little team you'd step up!" You took a step towards him, your face getting inches away from his face.

Ignoring the fact that you had to look up at him, you wouldn't let him leave without getting your point across. His eyes narrowed down at you, matching the energy you were giving out to him. Butters looked between the both of you with a nervous look, he could practically see the electricity bouncing between your eyes. The poor blond didn't mean to start a fight, he was just trying to help.

"If you had a problem with my team, you should have come to me then. Why did I have to find out from other people?" Stan's voice dipped to a low growl which almost made you give one in return.

"I shouldn't have had to go to anyone in the first place Marsh! Get your team under control or else!" You felt your face turn red; it was getting harder to argue with him when those ocean blue eyes were burning into yours.

That was new. Just going to lock that in your vault of things to not think about again.

Thankfully Butters finally stepped in, physically putting his body between the both of you. "C-come on now guys let’s all just calm down. We both said our peace and now we can work it out, right? Next time we practice we can be on the same page!"

"Sure Butters." Stan clicked his tongue as he looked at his friend, but that didn't stop him from getting one last jab in. "You better hope you don't slip up princess, because if you do. I'll be there and I'll be quick to remind you of your shortcomings." And with that he turned on his heel and started walking down the hallways.

"Princess?! Excuse me?!"

"Oh geez..."

Stan slammed his locker with a little more force than he should have, the rusty door screamed out and bounced back open. With an annoyed groan he pushed back on the metal with a little less force, but the damage was already done, the door was now on its last leg and would most likely not shut right. Just more fuel to the fire.

"Whoa dude what did that poor locker do to you? Don't you think it's been through enough." Kenny looked over from his locker with a little smirk.

One of the few times Kenny was without his parka, a towel wrapped around his waist and his bright blond hair clung to his skin. Stan could smell the smell of fresh soap and hints of pine in the air. He sighed in response to Kenny's teasing, clearly not in the mood for his friend's antics.

"Not now man, I don't have the energy." Stan grabbed his jacket and pulled it up onto his torso.

"Ah that's not good, wanna tell your old pal Kenny? I won't even charge ya, come on what's going on."

Stan pressed his lips together and he tried to focus on zipping up the worn-out brown coat he always wore, the zipper struggled to hold together. He cursed under his breath a few times before the thing finally zipped all the way up. For a moment Stan thought about not saying anything, but Kenny was never the type to judge or the type to let things go if he knew something was bothering his friends.

"You know the captain of the cheerleaders?"

"The really hot one?"

"Kenny!" Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, something he picked up from his mother when they were both aggravated, "That's not the point."

"Says you. She's a baddy for real. Take no shit kinda woman~! The feisty ones are the ones that bite the hardest. You got your work cut out for you if you're trying to shoot your shot. I heard she turned down everyone else on the team!"

"Dude! I'm not gonna ask her out!"

"You're not? Then why'd you bring her up? Is this about the fight you guys had in the hall?"

Stan stopped and looked up at him in shock. "You heard about that already?"

"Oh yeah, you guys's are the talk of the school. Everyone thinks you guys had a little lovers spat. I had to hear the whole story from Leo!" Kenny chuckled as he grabbed started getting changed, pulling the patchy orange pants up his legs.

"Even you're calling him Leo now..." Stan muttered but quickly shook his head, "but that's not what I was going to say! I was going to...talk about that but if you already know."

"Yeah, I don't really know what that's all about but Leo kinda spelled it out for me. She's not mad at you per say just mad at the position you're in. A jealousy thing maybe but honestly, I think she's just tired of taking the back seat so to speak."

"What am I supposed to do about that? It's not my fault!" Stan threw his hands up the irritation on face made Kenny laugh again.

"I didn't say it was dude. I'm just telling you what I think, but man, she really got under your skin." Kenny smirks over at him with a playful purr.

"No, she didn't! I don't even care."

"Yep, that totally looks like the face that doesn't care~" Kenny pulled his zipper up and adjusted the collar as he spoke. "Look, let’s pretend for a second you do care. If I were you, I'd just talk to her. Ask her what you can do to make things right, because I'll be honest man, she's the last person you wanna make an enemy of. She'll make your life hell." Kenny finished making his point by wrapping his arm around Stan's neck and pulling him in for a side hug. "Besides, it's not like you have to work close with her, just work around her."

"Yeah..."

But of course, it could never be that simple, could it? Every time Stan tried to catch you to talk to you something got in his way. Monday you were busy with your classes zipping around the hall, Stan could barely get a word in. Tuesday you had to help Butters with his outfit so of course you didn't have time for him. Wednesday was the big pep rally for Friday's game, so that meant Thursday was for practice.

Thursday was hell. Stan was supposed to be focused on getting his team ready for the game. They were practicing dodging other players and passing the ball across the field. Stan was supposed to be working on his throw, he needed the ball to go further than normal. Kyle was getting faster at running and if Stan fell behind their whole strategy would be thrown out the window.

But of course, you couldn't make it easy. It was getting harder and harder to focus on what he needed to do when you were being tossed in the air. The way your dark green and gold skirt caught the sunlight, and the way the puffy looking poms in your hands shook back and forth. Stan knew he was in trouble when he stopped paying attention for a moment when you laughed at something Annie said. Next thing he knew he felt the football knock him on the side of the head. And of course, that's when you looked over, he felt his face heat up when you giggled and covered your mouth.

He hated you. Hated your pretty smile, the way you laughed made his blood boil and his body turn hot. Your stupid lips curled into a gorgeous smile and the way your thighs looked good enough to sink his teeth into, what he'd give to walk over and kiss that smug look off your-

Stan let out a growl that came from deep in his chest as he threw the ball down the field hitting Kyle in the chest. The poor red head just took it, letting out a grunt as it managed to get past the gear meant to keep him safe. He wouldn't let his mind wonder there, not for you. Not when you're the one who attacked him and then started avoiding him every chance you got.

"Marsh!" He winced when he heard Coach Miles below his name, he didn't need to see his face to know he was in trouble.

With a sigh he took his helmet off and ran his fingers through his messy black hair, the helmet causing his hair to stick up. As he walked over, he could feel your eyes on him, and all he could do was scowl. Trying not to think about how you must be eating this up.

Stan's scowl dropped when he heard the coach call your last name and gesture for you to come over. Your eyes widened at the way the coach called for you, you'd never heard him so angry at you before. You gave your poms to Wendy as you ran over, walking behind him as he gestured for you and Stan to follow him.

Coach Miles took you both back inside through the gym, once the three of you were alone, he crossed his arms and glared down at you both. "So, the big game is tomorrow and some of the students have come to be with worries about the way you two were at each other’s throats." He paused for only a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let me make something very clear, we are not in high school anymore. So whatever problem you two have with each other, fix it. You’re adults, act like them."

"I've tried! She doesn't want to work this out!" Stan's mouth moved before he thought about the consequences, but he was just so tired of this whole thing. Even if he agreed with his Coach, this whole situation had him at the end of his rope.

"What?! No, you didn't! You just bitched to Kenny-"

"I didn't bitch! I was asking for advice!" Stan stopped and glared over at you again, it seems like that's the only look he gave you nowadays. "I tried to talk to you in the halls and you blew me off!" How did you even know about he talked to Kenny anyway?!

Fucking Butters.

"I told you what my problem was with you Marsh!"

"No, you didn't! All you did was-"

"Enough!" The Coach's voice boomed over your little squabble and echoed off the gymnasium walls. "I was hoping you two would be mature enough that I didn't have to do this, but I guess I was wrong."

You and Stan watched as Coach Miles stuck his hand in his pocket and fished out a folded-up piece of paper. Unfolding it, he handed it to you and huffed. It was a warning slip, something he never gave out to you or Stan. "So, unless you both figure this out, you're both benched. Off the field and you can watch the rest of the students play without you."

"What?!" Your voices came out in unison, shocked at the very thought of not getting to be a part of tomorrows big game.

"I mean it! Figure yourselves out or you're out! I can have McCormick take your spot Marsh and Testaburger has plenty of experience leading!"

"But Coach-"

"No! I shouldn't have had to do this in the first place! I'm not your dad, I'm not your counselor, I'm a Coach! You both are lucky I'm even giving you a second chance! You have until tomorrow." Every word that came out of Coach Miles's mouth pierced like a sword.

You flinched and pulled back just as Stan did each time, he emphasized his frustration. It was a verbal lashing unlike one you've ever gotten, and you were grateful when he turned and left. You weren't sure if you could take much more.

An uncomfortable silence fell over you and Stan as you both just stood there. The slight buzzing sound of the fans overhead and Stan's deep breaths were all you could hear. Each time he inhaled through his nose he would exhale through his mouth, but it didn't look like it was actually doing anything to calm him.

You've heard when Stan got yelled at by Coach Miles, and not once did he look this angry. Your eyes trailed down his jawline watching as he started grinding his teeth together, the look on his face said it all. He was holding something back, he looked like a lit fuse ready to blow. You didn't know if that anger was at you, the Coach, the situation, or all the above. But a part of you really wanted to find out, and Miles did tell you to work it out.

"So... you wanted to talk. I'm here."

Stan's head snapped over towards you, the look on his face was a mix of anger and bewilderment. Shocked that you would break the silence like that. He felt his stomach churn, a feeling he hasn't felt since he was a kid.

It always felt like he was on a roller-coaster going too fast, that fluttering feeling one would feel when the ride would hit that high and then dropped to that low. Only this time it felt like the pit of his stomach was also on fire, his stomach was a cauldron ready to boil over. As he opened his mouth to speak nothing came out, he just let his mouth hang open for a second and then he shut it again. He was holding back still.

You rolled your eyes and jut your hip out, arms crossing under your chest. "Just say it. I know you want to yell, so yell. I'm a big girl I can take whatever you could possibly throw at me."

When Stan didn't respond but instead walked towards you, your arms dropped, and you took a step back. So caught up in the dark blues of his eye you barely registered when your back hit the wall, it wasn't until you realized he had you backed into a corner that you grasped the situation you were in. He slammed his arm over your head making your heart leap in your chest, and your hands come up in defensively.

You weren't scared that he was going to hurt you, you never got that from Stan, he never seemed like that type. But the way he looked down at you made your heart speed up and a shiver run down your spine. Never had you felt like a rabbit trapped in a pen with a wolf. Something about that excited you.

"What are you doing-"

"Shut.up." Stan's voice dips an octave as he whispers out the command.

The gravel in his voice is cut by the way he slams his lips down onto yours. You have just enough time to push back into the kiss when he pulls away and continues. "You...have made my life.... fucking hell...this entire week!" His complaints almost falls on deaf ears from the way he's kissing you in between them. "I don't know why I get so.... worked up with you!" He emphasizes the last part by grabbing your jaw and forcing your face up towards him.

It's only been a week and you've already got him wrapped around your finger, so tightly wound up that he was beginning to snap. And maybe you were wrapped around his, the smirk on your face was short lived when he bit your bottom lip. A small gasp escaping your lips giving him enough of an opening to slip his tongue in your mouth. You moan against his lips and grip the front of his jersey by the collar. If he wanted to get handsy you could get handsy. You pulled him down into the kiss somehow deepening it further.

Your tongues push back and forth against each other, neither giving way to the other. His tongue was relentless but so was yours. It wasn't until you felt a bit of drool dripping down the side of your mouth did it click. You were making out with, what you thought, was the biggest asshole on campus. Yet you couldn't pull away, couldn't pull away from his hold on you.

On the other side of things, Stan's mind was going blank. With every twist of your tongue and lips he felt himself getting addicted. Hungry lips moving from yours to devour the soft flesh of your neck. He bites down with enough force to pull a cry from you and to leave a mark. Right where your shoulder meets your neck, teeth marks bright and red poked out of your cheerleading uniform.

"You fucking ass! That's going to leave a mark!" You hiss at him, but it just turns to another moan as he sucks on the patch of skin near your collarbone.

"Good!" He growls back coming off your skin with a pop. "I have tried all week to work with you! All fucking week to work with your bitchy attitude!"

"My attitude?! Fuck you! I was trying-"

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" He cuts you off with a smirk, one that would give the devil a run for his money.

"What?!" You white knuckle his jersey with both hands now.

"You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid." His hands reach down to the back of your thighs, cupping them as he lifts you up and slams you back into the wall. Not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of the predicament you're in.

"Says the man who had his tongue down my throat!" Predicament be damned. He would not win this fight just because he slots himself between your legs and pushes his arousal against your thigh.

Those football pants left nothing for the imagination, the thought of leaving him with that hard on in those pants crossed your mind for a moment. But when he rolled his hips against your clothed sex you had to focus on biting back the moan instead.

"It shut you up, didn't it? You didn't seem to want me to stop when you were moaning against me."

You glared down at him and ran your fingers through his hair, giving the roots a firm tug; you smirked when he moaned. His face turned red making him lunge forward and bite your neck again. Your nails dug into his scalp which only seemed to encourage him to leave marks.

"Just shut the fuck up and...and fuck me already!" You tried to keep the moan out of your voice, but when he found that soft spot on your neck it just turned into a whimper.

That smug bastard lips turned up into a smirk, he pulls back just long enough to take a look around the gym. All he could hear was you panting heavily trying to catch your breath and the same dull fan buzzing. He looked down at you for a moment and for a second you thought he'd pull away. That he'd come to his senses and realize that maybe this wasn't exactly what the Coach meant.

But he didn't. Instead, he pulls your face back up for another kiss, this one was a lot less angry. There was still that heat behind each press of his lips, but it was more controlled, not like when he was trying to get you to stop talking. He presses his forehead against yours for a moment, the sweat from practice earlier dripping down his neck, it would almost be sweet if the situation leading up to it didn't happen.

"We have to be quick."

"Here?! Are you out of your mind, what if we get caught!?"

"Would you just let me-" You feel him move you to his forearm, where he pins you between the wall and his body. "You've got me so worked up! I don't know why I find your endless complaining and bitching so hot!" The confession spilled out of his mouth once again without a second thought as his hands move up your skirt.

His hands grope and squeeze at your thighs and then your ass pulling another sweet moan from your lips. "Don't act like you're free from it! You like to think you're sooooo much better than me but you're just like me!"

"I know!" He grunts as he pushes your underwear to the side making you shiver when the cold air hits your cunt.

Stan watches as your eyes flutter shut when he slams his fingers into your wet hole, his fingers coated with your sweet juices. He licks his lips when your mouth hangs open and a shaky gasp is pulled from you. "Look at you already so fucking wet for me. I thought you hated me huh?"

"Sh... shit. I-I do hate you!" Your weak attempt to bite back fall short when he curls his finger in you, slamming his fingers in and out of you.

His lips ghost over yours as he buries himself to the knuckle in your pretty cunt. He watches as you suck his fingers in further and further. The sounds you're making makes his cock throb in his pants, straining against the white material. "Yeah? Doesn't feel like you hate me. You were ordering me to fuck you earlier."

"I-I... oh fuck! Harder!"

Stan smirks down at you and there's no comment this time. How can he when you look so damn sweet, nails digging into his shoulders clinging to him for dear life. He stops his fingers and glares down at you. "Say please."

"B-bite me."

He does. He leans down and bites down on the tip of your ear, his husky voice laced with danger. "I'm not moving my fingers from your cunt until I get a please."

"G-God damn it Stan j-just.... ugh please! Please go harder!"

For a moment he looks up like he's thinking about it, pondering whether he should or not. You could have smacked that smug look off his face but when his fingers drill deeper into you all you can do is throw your head back. As if it wasn't enough, he finds that perfect spot, making you clench around his digits.

"Fuck you look so good when you're like this. You gonna cum around my fingers princess? Go ahead, let me feel you clench around them." He talks you through your orgasm with a steady tone, making you lull your head to the side as you reach your climax.

His fingers stay buried in you for a bit before he pulls them out, you almost whimper at the loss of them. But it was cut short when he wrapped his lips around his fingers. Sucking the slick off his digit while keeping eye contact with you. The telltale sign of a blush crept up your neck and across your face when he removed his index finger from his mouth.

"You're so gross..."

"Whatever." He clicked his tongue at your comment, even after he pulled an orgasm out of you; you still had something to say. His hands move across your ass again giving the flesh a firm squeeze. You slapped his shoulder when he chuckled at your little squeak. "Hmm~ I liked you begging. Let’s see if I can't get more of that out of you."

He moves his hands down to his pants and slips them down to his thighs. He fumbles for a moment with his boxers before he just decides to give up and pull his cock through the flap. He did say this needed to be quick and he already wasted time fingering you against the gym wall. Not that he regretted it, he had half a mind to do it again, but if the precum leaking out of the slit of his cock was anything to go by he need release soon.

Stan glides his cock against your folds a few times, coating his cock in your arousal, his breath hitches when you roll your hips back. When his eyes meet yours again his knees almost buckle under the weight of your lustful gaze. The way your eyelids lower and your mouth falls open again with each drag of his cock. He takes the base of his member and slaps it against your cunt a few times. "Come on princess, tell me you want this. Tell me you don't really hate me."

"I...." You trail off, letting your stubborn attitude take over but Stan isn't making it easy. Each passing second you don't answer him he nudges the tip of his cock in your entrance, not quite pushing in to give you that pleasure. "I hate that I like it that you call me that! I hate the way my heart speeds up when you kiss me! I hate that I like you!" Your words roll off your tongue like a confession, the way you throw your head back the frustration growing in your tone.

Stan growls again, that sound being pulled out of him more times today than his entire life, but he can't resist you. It's like he's a puppet and you're holding all the strings. His hands come up to your hips and guide you down the length of his cock just as your legs wrap around his waist. The muscles in your legs keep him in place making his cock throb again, you feel it bob against your walls.

"You have...no fucking idea...how much I've wanted this! Every time you got thrown in the air-" He lets out a shaky moan as he pulls you off his cock and slides you right back down. "Every... every time you giggled and flashed that perfect smile." Stan nuzzled into the crook of your neck while his hips begin to find the perfect rhythm. "Everything about you is perfect and I fucking hate it!"

Stan's little burst of irritation comes out from the way he begins picking up speed. You cling onto him as he continues piercing up into you, your arms wrapping around his neck to try as your back slides up and down against the wall. "Oh god Stan!"

"Listen to yourself. Calling my name like that, you drive me crazy! I'm not going to be able to stop. You gonna let me cum in you? I don't wanna stain that pretty uniform of yours." The way he's moaning out your name in between breaths makes your stomach do flips.

You can't find the strength to answer so you settle for nodding and moaning his name. He doesn't say anything else besides the occasional cursing and small grunts, so focused on bullying your insides. You feel the coil in your stomach tighten and tighten until the knot starts to snap. Your walls grip his cock as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, your voice has gone hoarse from moaning and screaming his name. He feels his cock twitch when he sees you climax around him, it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. The way your mouth hangs open, lips slightly swollen from how hard you kissed him. The way your hair was out of place and the way your uniform was messed up from how hard he was thrusting into you.

"Fuck...I'm...I'm cumming." He groaned as he emptied himself inside you. Thick hot arousal shooting up and painting your insides, it made you whimper and squirm.

There was another moment of silence that fell over you two, it wasn't the heavy awkward one the Coach had left you in. It was almost comfortable by the way Stan was pressing soft kisses into your neck, his lips moving up to your jawline and to the corner of your mouth. You ran your fingers through his hair again trying to smooth it out instead of tugging.

"So....this certainly was one way to work out our problems..."

Stan hummed in response as he slowly pulled you off him, you couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of loss again. As he pulls his pants and boxers up, he takes out the small towel he has tucked away in the pockets of his pants, and gently begins to clean your thighs. The action makes you smile a little, how one minute he could go from destroying you against a wall to treating you like some doll. When he sets you down his hands linger on your hips a little longer like he's trying to make sure you're alright enough to stand.

"Yeah...hey, I'm sorry. I'm not...good at confrontation and I shouldn't have got defense with you." His apology almost makes your heart break but at the same time it feels so warm.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken my jealousy out on you. You didn't deserve that, it's not your fault." You fiddle with the material of his jersey, rolling it between your fingertips.

"Jealous? Why would you be jealous?" Stan asks completely dumbfounded by the idea.

"Because everyone always talks about you and your team! It's always how great you are, and everyone seems to like you!"

"Really? Because I always hear about how amazing you guys are. Every game the guys always feel better knowing that even if we lose you guys were cheering for us. I can't tell you how happy Butter's has been since you let him join the squad." He chuckles and goes to move a lock of your hair behind your ear.

"Awh...that's so sweet." You look up at him with a little giggle and a smile, which he returns. "Now I feel all bad."

"Nah don't feel bad...I'm just glad we got this straightened out. I know it's a little backwards but...do you think I could take you out after the game tomorrow? Win or lose I just...kinda wanna spend more time with you." He gives you a sheepish smile and a small blush creeps across his face.

"Only if you don't mind me bitching." You joke back with a little hum, pushing yourself up against him.

"It'll go great with mine." He smirks back down at you and places a kiss on your lips.

Word travels fast around campus. When you both walked out of the gym smiling at each other neither teams could believe it. Even more so when next week you were walking around with Stan's jacket over your shoulders and your pinky wrapped around his. The star quarterback's last name written in big blocky letters on your back and your lipstick staining his cheek. Definitely not a normal way to start a relationship, but that was you and Stan's little secret.

91 notes · View notes