#so much cross guild content in those arcs

[aimbutmiss]

The dialogue after Crocodile saves Ace is so funny to me:

Doffy: you're ditching me to team up with whitebeard? It's enough to make make a man jealous y'know...

Croc: I don't do team ups.

Sir "I don't do team ups" Crocodile, deciding to team up with a clown and a goth two years later...

If Doflamingo got jealous from something small like that (I believe he really meant it, at least a little, even if he said it jokingly) I wonder how he would react to Cross Guild (not well)

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 20

Those Lovely Things

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 7349

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: You fight to find some joy while your little world falls apart. Is there anyone you can trust?

Author's Note: Hi friends! I realize that most of you came for the smut, and stayed for the drama, lol. Going forward, there will be some heavier topics including trauma, scenes depicting panic attacks, etc. I'll try to bracket the most intense sections off with ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ and I will do my best to make sure you still understand what's going on in case you'd like to skip past those parts. Thank you so much for staying with me, and letting me take this story where I always wanted it to go!

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting panic attacks and/or big trauma (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, SH (scratching while panicking), Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Double Penetration, PIV Sex, Anal, Multiple Orgasms, Hair-Pulling, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

She’s perfect. She’s everything. She’s—

Stupid, red hair.

Buggy held Y/N close, hearts still racing, still breathing with each other.

This morning he’d woken up tense, sweating with guilt that she wasn’t in his arms after all the shit they’d been through to get back.

But the arms that had wrapped around him… The lips that had kissed his neck…

“Mornin’ Bugs.”

“Morning, shithead.”

Then there were her tears. More fucking tears today. That was all he could think about. The near panic of needing to make her feel better, make her smile, make those tears stop touching her beautiful face.

Now that those tears had stopped, his mind cracked open, letting that red hair shine through like the first light of the morning sun when you’re not ready to see it.

Gods, I’m such a piece of shit. 

“Buggy?”

“Hey, star! How ya doing? Can I get ya anything?”

“No,” she laughed, the sweetest fucking sound in the world. “Just you, Bugs. Just stay with me for a while, please.”

He held her close, his head falling back against the headboard. 

“I’ve got you.”

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

Buggy’s name echoed through the halls, so loud that Mihawk wasn’t the only one that heard.

Crocodile sighed, shaking his head slowly at the sound.

“Should we punish our pets,” Mihawk drawled, the words spilling out like acid.

“Sorry,” Shanks called as he sauntered back into the lounge, a pleased smile on his face. “My other hosts are a bit busy. Mind if I—“ 

“Fuck off.”

Shanks smirked up at Crocodile, sand fading from reality after the larger man had shifted across the floor. 

“You two seem awfully grumpy,” he taunted, his voice too even, too calm. “It almost seems like you care about your captives. But that can’t be right...”

Mihawk was there, stepping slightly between the two men. Two men he’d betrayed.

“Is it really necessary to gloat, Red Hair?”

“Who’s gloating,” Shanks countered, his sunny smile falling fast. “I just wanna know that my friend and his girl are safe. Can’t blame me for that, can you? Not after everything you did to him.”

“We won’t stop him if he wants to go,” Crocodile rasped, the veins in his hand pulsing as he clenched his fist. That thought soaked his blood in a rage he didn’t know what to do with.

He knew there was nothing to be done. 

“How kind of you,” Shanks mocked, walking away from Crocodile’s glare to stand in front of his old friend. He didn’t look back at the frustrated sound that left Crocodile’s throat at the dismissal. 

Mihawk hated the itchiness in his fingers, the instinct to reach for his sword. 

“You’ve been trying, haven’t you, old friend,” Shanks breathed, his eyes scanning over every slight movement on Mihawk’s face. “Looks like it’s too late to play nice, though. Why would such a sweet girl wanna stay with monsters like you?” 

A clash of hook against sword.

Shanks’ serene face, inches from the striking metal as Mihawk blocked that golden hook. 

“I think I’ll have lunch on the Red Force. Give my friends some time to cool off. All that screaming sounds exhausting.” Shanks winked at Mihawk, nodded at Crocodile with a smirk, and strutted toward the door with a laugh. “If you hurt them while I’m gone, I’ll level this place to the fucking ground.”

With that threat, the red haired emperor left the two ex-warlords frozen, their weapons still caught together in a useless battle between defeated men. 

It was hard to say who lowered first, but as soon as their weapons were down, Crocodile brought his to the other’s throat. 

Mihawk let him.

“You knew,” Crocodile raged, eyes flaring as he failed to spot any fucking reaction on his new lover’s face. “You knew, didn’t you? He’s gonna take them both!”

“Don’t you think he should,” Mihawk choked, wishing it was just the sting of the hook making his throat tight. “We’ll get through tomorrow, then we'll say goodbye to our little pets. Our little prisoners. They’ve served their purpose—“

He hissed, knowing there was blood beneath that press of metal, wet heat dripping down his skin. It was almost enough pain to relax him. Almost.

“You don’t get to decide that,” Crocodile growled, bringing his face in close to breathe scotch scented fury over Mihawk’s skin. “You spoiled, selfish, little prince. Finally grown a conscience, and now you’re making it everyone else’s fucking problem.”

Mihawk was away, leaving the hook empty, except for his own pretty blood. He didn’t bother to stop the flow of it down his chest before he snarled back. 

“We can’t force them to stay, sandman,” he declared, his breath heavier than he’d expected. “I won’t do that to them again, not—“

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Crocodile sighed as he cleaned his hook with a handkerchief, white fabric staining red. 

“And why is that,” Mihawk purred, eating up the anger, preferring it over everything else. 

“If they wanna go, we’ll let them go,” the larger man conceded. His deep voice was almost weak with those words, though his next were spoken with power, with the need to make them true. 

“So, we’ll convince them to stay.”

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

Fuck.

You wished that Buggy’s arms could make you feel safe from the parade of memories, of demands that dragged you back down. 

It was stupid. Of course you couldn’t be free. 

A choked laugh tore from your throat. Buggy tried to soothe it away, but the insanity of it all was too much.

You had felt safe. You’d felt fucking happy with these men that threatened to kill you, to sell you into slavery. Even though you were never without fear, you’d somehow felt good with the men that owned you. Felt good with the men that threatened to kill your lover, that had beaten him bloody, humiliated him, then made you crave them so fucking badly that you almost begged them… that you had begged them to fuck you like a whore in front of him. 

Just to escape your boring, privileged life.

All of that guilt you’d tried to shove down deep was back, and Buggy’s sweet smile that had made it all okay felt like a mirage. His loving arms around you made you feel sick. 

I am sick.

He was right. He wouldn’t even have to fake it. I’m everything he said. Damaged. Wrong. Worthless. 

Buggy deserves better. 

“What’s wrong?”

More brittle laughter escaped your raw throat, and Buggy chuckled at himself.

“Sorry, baby. That list is fucking massive, isn’t it,” he soothed, hands tracing over your skin. “Wanna take a shower with me?”

He carried you, helped you, kissed you, dried you, and made you wear some of his lipstick, chasing your lips with it until you laughed and gave in. 

“Why don’t you care?”

“What,” he coughed, eyes wide as he reached for you.

“About my… About who I am?”

He looked confused, almost as if he’d forgotten. Almost as if he really didn’t see you differently. You couldn’t fucking handle that thought either way. 

“Why would I care about your shitty family,” he scoffed, grabbing and squishing your cheeks. “All I care about is how long I have to wait before I can start making fun of you for your fancy trust fund.”

Your mouth would have fallen open in shock if he hadn’t been squeezing your face so hard. He smirked at you, looking way too fucking proud of himself.

“You. Dick,” you hissed reaching out to punch his arms, his stomach, anything you could reach. Buggy cackled as he floated each body part away just before you could hit it. You squirmed out of his grip, and he floated around you, sticking his tongue out while you huffed. “I’m gonna kill you!"

“Ooh, how much do hitmen cost? I bet rich girls can hire all the best assassins!”

“Buggy– mnf.”

“I still love you,” he whispered against your lips after shoving you against the wall. “That’s never gonna change, no matter what happens, star.”

Somehow there were still tears left in you, but he caught them with his gloved thumbs, giving your red lips a gentle kiss. 

“I love you too, Bugs.”

"Of course you do,” he winked, leading you out of the suite. “Ya hungry, pretty star?”

~~~

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” Mihawk drawled as he pulled a chair out for you. “How are you feeling?”

Uncomfortable wasn’t even close to covering it. 

They let you sit by Buggy, let him hold your hand, and they stared at you with eyes that might have held concern. Or they might have had dancing berries behind them, imagining what sort of price tag you had branded under your skin. 

“Not great,” you said blandly, hating not knowing what they were going to do with you. 

The lunch went on, and they didn’t push. Didn’t try to speak with you more than some awkward small talk, and a polite request for the salt shaker. All they did was observe you.

“I want to call my sister.”

“Of course, swee– of course,” Crocodile rasped after a pause, pulling his hand back before it could reach across the table. 

“Do you already have a buyer in mind?”

That vicious growl left your throat like lightning, too fast for you to catch. Buggy’s hand went still on your shoulder while you shook with rage. 

“Y/N, we’re–”

“Y/N,” you mocked, almost proud of the way Mihawk’s lips parted when you cut him off. “No rabbits? No sweet girls? Already distancing yourselves from your old pet, huh? I guess you can’t get too attached when you have to put ‘em down, can you?”

Your chair toppled over when you stood, but you resisted the urge to shove those pretty, round tables because you had to stop being there right that fucking second. Had to stop looking at them. You backed away from their shocked faces, the pain and anger in your blood making you dizzy. 

“I hope your next pet survives a little longer,” you spat as you turned to run inside, fleeing down that long corridor. Your eyes were burning with tears, staring at the floor just ahead of your frantic steps.

It felt like only a few seconds had passed before you were caught.

“Hey, bunny,” Shanks cooed, pressing you against him. You clung to his waist, tears spilling against his chest, bare between his loose shirt. “You’re okay, sugar. I won’t let them hurt–”

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Mihawk breathed over your shoulder, so close. Shanks tensed, tilting you ever so slightly, as if preparing to pull you away. Mihawk’s wicked fingers trailed down your back, sending chills through you while he made his promises. “We’re not going to sell you, or ransom you, or hurt you, Y/N. I swear it.”

Detangling yourself from both of them with a shudder, you caught Buggy and Crocodile waiting, watching. 

“Why are you talking to me like that,” you asked, hating how hard it was to swallow the lump in your throat. 

“We didn’t think that you’d want us to talk to you so… intimately, after everything,” Mihawk explained. His fingers flexed, and you closed your eyes against another wave of exhaustion. 

“Can we just pretend today?”

Pathetic.

“What do you mean?” Crocodile came closer, that frightening face going soft, breaking you down. 

“Can we pretend everything’s alright? I just wanna pretend you care until it’s over. Do whatever you want with me, just let me feel… Just let me pretend you care,” you begged softly. Buggy’s arms wrapped around you from behind before his lower body could catch up, squeezing more tears from you. “Please?”

“Rabbit…”

“Come here, sweet girl.”

Buggy let them take you. You let them take you.

Golden eyes were so close, the scent of him making you sigh while he stroked your hair, kissing down your temple, your cheek, your jaw, before helping to lift you into Crocodile’s arms. 

Silver eyes poured over you, his deep voice so calming while you cried against another silk vest, cried as he brought you back to that magical place filled with pleasure and pain. That place where you’d felt both shackled and free.

That stupid, green, velvet couch. 

“My sweet girl. I’d never send you away. Never hurt you, babydoll. Daddy’s here. Whatever you need.”

“My little rabbit, my love. I want you by my side. I want to watch you, my fierce, little bloodhound. Tell me what I need to do, darling. Anything.”

“My shining star. You’re my everything. You’re everything I need.”

Pretty, pretty lies.

~~~

“President Buggy, sir?”

Buggy huffed while he floated his head across the room, sticking his tongue out when he flew over Shanks’ grinning face. His hands didn’t stop petting your legs while you laid across the three laps on the couch. 

“What is it,” he snapped at the intruder through the cracked door. 

“So sorry to interrupt, sir,” the man sputtered, clearing his throat. You couldn’t see him, but his anxiety radiated through the door. “The final dress rehearsal is meant to start soon. Should we… would you like us to run through it without you, sir?”

“No, I…”

Buggy’s hands went stiff, and you turned your head to look over at his concerned face, almost pained when he glanced at you. 

“It’s okay, Buggy,” you croaked, your voice a wreck after all your tears. 

“We can watch your show over dinner again,” Mihawk suggested as he laid his hand over Buggy’s.

“We’ll freshen up,” Crocodile agreed, brushing a bit of hair from your face. “How does that sound, sweet girl?”

The tiniest, most exhausted of smiles touched the corner of your lips before he lifted you, and followed Buggy’s headless body toward the door. 

“Mind if I take a peek backstage, Bugs,” Shanks flirted, wrapping his arm around the clown’s shoulders. “I always love your shows.”

“Don’t get in the way,” Buggy grumbled. You heard Shanks’ pleased laughter while Buggy floated up to press a soft kiss to your lips, and Crocodile’s wide chest kept you warm, and sleepy. “Wanna watch my show, star?”

“Always,” you breathed, wishing you were worth that perfect smile. 

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

“Don’t be so stressed, Bugs,” Shanks beamed, following his grumbly clown through the halls. “You’ll blow ‘em away at the party tomorrow. Then we can take Y/N, and get out of here. Help her smile again. She needs to–”

“You don’t know her,” Buggy hissed, rounding on his old friend. His old friend whose eyes widened a bit at his words, but still kept that fucking smile. 

That perfect fucking smile that made his eyes go a little unfocused every time he saw it. 

So he turned, continuing his scolding while he walked toward the banquet hall, avoiding that face. 

“You don’t know what she needs.”

“You’re right,” Shanks apologized, walking backwards so he could look at his clown. Look at those perfect eyes. “You know her. You’re fucking beautiful together, Buggy. It makes me so happy to see you like that. Loved. She loves you, doesn’t she?”

Shanks watched all those expressions move under that greasepaint, studying each and every one. Trying to figure out the right words to say. 

“She does,” Buggy hesitated. He shouldered past the red haired pirate, forcing the other man to keep up with his quickened pace. Forcing that smile out of his line of sight. 

“Let’s get her out of here,” Shanks urged. Even with their speed through the halls, his voice was calm, quiet, soothing. “You can protect her, Buggy. I’ll help you. You know she’ll never be safe with them. I just want you both to be safe and happy, Bugs.”

Tears. 

Too many fucking tears in her eyes. 

“When did you ask her?”

“What do you mean,” Shanks chirped, skirting around a servant with a stack of nameplates for the tables. 

“I mean, when did you ask her to come with us,” Buggy breathed, pulling Shanks backstage after looking around the banquet hall. The stage was tiny compared to the three rings he was used to, but he could get used to that swanky, private dressing room. 

Especially now that he had Shanks pinned to the mirrored wall inside, those brown eyes flashing with a challenge, and a promise that almost made him forget the world. 

Forget her. 

“When,” he growled, more forcefully than he’d meant to as he shook himself out of Shanks’ spell. Shanks didn’t answer right away, his eyes roaming over Buggy’s face, concern and charm oozing off of him. 

“The first night,” he whispered, cradling Buggy’s cheek, tilting his hips closer. Wanting to get this stress out of Buggy’s eyes, help him feel good, help him get out of here. “You still snore like a sea lion, Bugs. Mihawk didn’t hear me.”

Buggy’s red lips fell open, but he pulled away before Shanks’ thumb could rub across them.

“And the dance. What did you say to her?”

“Just this,” Shanks reassured with a smile. “I can protect you both.”

Shanks’ smile had always brought irritation or need. No, not need. Awe. Buggy had tried to compete with his friend, had fought and struggled for years. 

“I want you with me, Bugs.”

He’d never felt good enough compared to his perfect friend. His perfect friend that was always in charge. Even though his perfect friend said such lovely things about him. 

“I don’t wanna find the One Piece without you, baby.”

Those lovely things. They couldn’t be true. 

“And I don’t wanna leave your pretty star with these monsters.” 

Until finally, Buggy had believed those words. Believed that perfect smile. 

“Let me make it all up to you. Anything you need.”

But in the end, that smile had brought him nothing but pain. 

Nothing until…

“Come with me,” Shanks purred, not caring about all that greasepaint when he flipped Buggy around, shoving his clown against the mirror to kiss the surprised, little moans from his lips. “I want you so bad, Buggy. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Buggy’s eyes fluttered closed when Shanks’ fingers reached for him, finding his cock already hard beneath that bright, red fabric. Shanks let out a satisfied hum as Buggy lost himself, melting under that smile that said so many lovely things. 

Melting under that hand that knew his body so well.

“President Buggy, sir?”

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

~~~~~~

The snail went on and on. 

You’d let Mihawk take care of you, wiping your face, kissing you, rubbing cool lotion onto your flushed skin, kissing you, fixing your face up before kissing across it again.

“Lovely, little rabbit,” he’d purred before setting you up with the transponder snail. You were shocked when they left you in the lounge all alone, until you remembered that he could hear you from a mile away. 

Pretending. We’re just pretending.

“Hello?”

“Kat? Oh gods, hi! Kat, it’s me,” you panicked, realizing you hadn’t planned anything to say. 

“Y/N? Are you okay? Fuck, tell me it’s you, sis.”

“Kat,” you laughed, relief and joy flooding your drained body, waking you out of your daze. “It’s me. I helped you cheat your way through stats so you would—“

“So I would help you get out of those creepy match making parties mom kept—“

“Kat, I’m so sorry.”

…

“Kat?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I mean,” you grimaced, hating it all. “You were right. They found out who I am.”

“How much is the ransom?”

Sighing, you leaned back, tapping your head against the chair. 

“I don’t know yet, but I’m okay. They let me call you.”

“… The Cross Guild?”

Fogginess filled your mind again, trying to mesh all of your worlds together.

“That clown,” she explained, her voice getting hushed. “Your clown, and his cronies, right? I saw the flyers.”

“Oh,” you relaxed, picturing that colorful flyer that had caused so much trouble. “Yeah, but don’t worry. They haven’t hurt me. I think they’ll just ransom me back. Uncle’s gonna love—“

“You should really listen to him.”

Kat’s voice was lined with stress, something you never missed. 

“Kat, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she clearly lied, your sister’s shrill voice too easy to read. “It’s just been long enough, you know? Things are good here, and you could… we could all be happy.”

“Happy,” you breathed, not wanting to give in to anger. 

“Yeah,” she brushed off, clearing her throat. “Mom’s coming, so I… I love you, sis.”

“Love you—“

“See you soon.”

…

The snail stared back at you for too long, its slow moving eyes making you dizzy. 

Unease bubbled under your skin, Kat’s strained voice replaying in your mind. 

“Something’s wrong,” you declared to empty air, your voice hollow. 

“What is it, love,” Mihawk asked, appearing on the desk before you. 

“Kat’s stressed.”

“What about, sweetheart,” Crocodile prompted as he came to lean over the desk beside the other man. 

“He’s done something,” you trailed off, mind going hazy around the edges. 

“We’ll help you, darling,” Mihawk whispered before kissing your wrist, your eyes fluttering from his simple touch amidst all your chaos. 

“Please, don’t send me back.”

~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~

The plea was dry, futile, almost silent while your eyes got lost around the desk. The moment the words left your lips, you went limp. Your mouth slack, drool forming, ready to spill if you got stuck for too long. 

Nothing. 

Nothing. 

Just how he wants me.

What looked like panic in their eyes at the horrifying laugh you let out made you laugh even more, your fingernails scraping deep into your thighs while that grating sound tore through you.

“You can try to own me. I tried to let you. But he won’t let you. You’ll have to buy me first,” you warned in a harsh whisper, insanity creeping and creeping. 

“Sweetheart?”

“Nope,” you giggled, shaking your head too fast. “No sweethearts for me! No love for me. Just work. Nothing else.”

“Y/N…”

“Y/N,” you parroted Mihawk again, your voice breaking. “Please pretend. Please pretend you—“

~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~

“Please, tell me what’s wrong,” he urged, kneeling at your feet, your head in his hands. “Let us help you, rabbit. I…”

“Help me by pretending,” you sat up, voice clear when you brushed the fresh tears away. “I want to pretend. I want you to pretend to care for one more day.”

His strong hands gave in as you stood to walk away. 

“Please, pretend.”

You were in his arms, resting your head in the crook of his neck, feeling Crocodile’s strong presence beside him.

“Thank you.”

“All you gotta do is tell us what you want, sweet girl.”

“Thank you, daddy.”

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

Murder. 

Murder roiled just beneath the surface of their skin, bodies made up of raw nerves.

A panicked glance shared between them helped nothing, except to confirm that something was fucking wrong. 

Something far worse than what they’d thought.

Mihawk held Y/N against him, pretending to be light, pretending to be the person he’d been for her before.

The person he’d been when he wasn’t scaring her, using her, showing her what a monster he was.

But all he wanted to do was shake her. Drag out whatever horrible truth there was inside her precious, little soul so he could stab it to death. 

She’s going to leave us like this. She’s going to leave here broken. 

He glanced at the other man again, wondering if he was just as terrified as he was.

Crocodile was terrified. All he wanted was to protect her. To never hear that jarring, scraping laugh leave her throat again. It was demonic. Wrong. 

His sweet girl should never be in that much pain.

He had to fight not to tear his hook across every wall they passed, through every door frame he ducked under. 

Had to give her what she wanted. To pretend everything was alright. 

To pretend that he wasn’t one of the monsters that made her cry. 

He sat and watched the show, watching her tired face pretending to be happy while her sick laughter clawed through the back of his mind.

I can’t let her leave like this. I can’t let my sweet girl hold that pain. I’m gonna fucking gut him. 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

Woozy. 

But okay. 

So nice to sway back and forth between them. To watch your clown perform. To forget the world. 

Forget everything.

You were pretty good at it. 

Practiced. 

It helped when they’d call you pretty names, trace their warm, strong hands along your back, your thighs. Massaging your hand while you smiled at the shining star on the stage. 

Even the red haired pirate made you smile with his laughter and jokes, with his charm and soothing voice. Even with that missed smudge of red paint on his chin, you smiled at the thought of Buggy being happy. 

“Look at my star,” he hummed, his upper body racing to you faster than his legs could when the show was done. They left the band going for you, letting you sway. “You okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, not caring what Crocodile did to you now. “I think I need to stand.”

Pushing away from the table, every eye on you felt like pressure, felt like the real world was crushing you.

“Pretend,” you ordered, huffing a laugh at what a spoiled, little rich girl you were. “Everything is fine and we’re having a wonderful night, all of us together. Okay?”

Your three men promised, their voices soothing, but the forth voice cut through when the red haired man stood. 

“Everything is wonderful,” he beamed, offering you his hand. “Would you like to show me what a wonderful dancer you are, bunny?”

He looked so pleased when you snorted, and even more so when you took his hand. You didn’t think about why you shouldn’t or why anyone would stop you. 

I just want to pretend. 

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

This poor thing. I’ve gotta get her out of here.

Shanks led Y/N to that gleaming floor, sparing just a glance at Buggy. His clown didn’t match his smile, and he couldn’t blame him. 

How could he smile when his poor girl was coming undone?

“Your technique is amazing,” he teased as he kept her from rolling her ankle. “Where did you train?”

“I trained at— shut up,” she narrowed her eyes, so fucking cute. 

“You actually trained,” he laughed, pulling her squirming body against his until her eyes went wide, her breathing slowed. His next words came out soft, but there was no need to hide from his old friend anymore. Mihawk couldn’t stop this. 

“I’ll protect you,” he vowed, watching her eyes clench shut. “Come with me after the party. I don't care about your family’s wealth. I don’t care where you came from. I just care about Buggy, and the One Piece. And now you.”

Those pretty eyes were teary again when they opened, and he felt a twinge of guilt before he charged on. 

“You can be free, Y/N.”

“Tomorrow,” she sighed, body slumping a bit against his. “Tonight we’re pretending that everyone cares, that everyone gets along, that no one would ever use me. Can you pretend?”

The emptiness in her voice made his stomach twist, something foul hiding behind her tired request.

“Of course. Anything for you, bunny,” he promised, kissing the top of her head. When he turned to look for Buggy, he clenched his jaw, fighting to keep tension out of his body while he danced with Y/N. 

Mihawk’s hands were on Buggy, stroking his hair, smoothing over his thigh while the clown laid on the table in front of those scumbags. Even Crocodile leaned closer, rubbing his large hand along Buggy’s back before heading to the dance floor.

“May I have the next dance, sweetheart?”

“Yes, daddy,” she hummed, pulling away from Shanks, not even meeting his eyes before skipping toward her kneeling captor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling when he stood. Her feet dangled while he held her thighs against that massive chest. 

“Mm, see? My sweet girl doesn’t need to be a good dancer when daddy’s around.”

She squealed as the tyrant carried her across the gleaming floor, satisfied laughter floating along behind them. 

Shanks tried not to gape at that sweet girl giggling in the arms of a man that destroyed an entire country for his own fucking greed. 

Poor thing.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

“Aren’t you gonna stop them,” Buggy asked, watching his two favorite people head toward the empty dance floor. Wondering why he didn’t feel happier seeing them together. 

“We’re never gonna do that again,” Crocodile rasped, the strange tension in his words making Buggy whip his head around to frown at that intense face. “We’re not going to force either of you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Buggy was rarely out of words, but he simply stared at the man, his red lips parted in almost comical confusion. 

“I’m sorry, Buggy.”

Those words from the swordsman’s lips had Buggy fearing that he’d died, that his mind was imagining ridiculous scenarios while his body left this world. 

But those golden eyes didn’t fade to nothingness. They kept staring at him, those dangerous fingers reaching for his own. 

“The fuck…”

“We’re bad people,” Crocodile announced, and the firmness of it made Buggy crack up, his pretty throat exposed while that blue hair fell back. 

Crocodile felt the urge to be angry. To demand fear. 

That shit was getting old. 

And his little clown was cute when he laughed. His little clown was cute when he made everyone laugh. 

Still annoying. But cute.

“We’re bad people,” Crocodile apologized, smoothing his hand along Buggy’s back. “That’s not gonna change. But I wish we hadn’t been bad to you. We hope… I hope you’ll let us make it up to you.”

Buggy blinked up at Crocodile in shock, and Mihawk almost laughed. It was surprising to hear so many nice words out of such frightening lips all at once, especially without their darling in front of him.

Mihawk cut through layers and layers of guilt to touch Buggy’s lovely hair, to smooth a hand over his thigh. 

No matter which direction he went, he would be hurting someone. There would be no true redemption for a wicked soul like his. 

But he could start here with crystal blue eyes, and a silly nose. A nose he used to ridicule, but lately had caught himself almost smiling at when he saw it. Fighting not to reach for his little clown. And why shouldn’t he reach? Who the fuck was he trying to impress? This clown was more interesting than anyone he could think of. 

“I am a terrible person. A selfish, cruel bastard. An asshole,” he whispered, staring into his clown’s wide eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” Buggy agreed cautiously, a nervous laugh leaving his throat as his eyes flicked back and forth between his tormentors. 

“I’m sorry too, little clown,” Crocodile rasped, fingers pressing in gently against Buggy’s sore muscles. “I know it’s not worth much after everything, but I’d like to take care of you now. Make sure no monster like me hurts you, or our girl again.”

Crocodile watched his little clown try to understand him. He knew it wasn’t worth shit. How could a few words make up for the terror and pain he’d caused? He fought the instinct to slam his hook into the table at his own discomfort, his body not used to accepting guilt. 

But this brave little clown had stood up to him. Over and over. Protected his sweet girl from him before he knew how precious she was. Made her laugh. 

Made him laugh.

“We won’t hurt you if you leave, even if you take her with you. I hope you stay though,” Crocodile confessed, leaning over Buggy as he stood to walk toward the dance floor. “I’d love to spoil you, little clown.”

Buggy almost fell off the table when Crocodile kissed his temple, and the playful smirk on Mihawk’s face didn’t help. 

These men were fucking horrible.

Dickbags. Monsters. Pieces of shits.

But they were also interesting. Relaxing. Intoxicating. Overwhelming. 

They made her smile. Made her scream. 

Mihawk chuckled softly, and Buggy realized that his eyes had fluttered when he thought about these big, scary, bad guys fucking his pretty star. 

Fucking him. 

“So, where’s the after party, Mr. President?”

Buggy let out an embarrassingly high yelp at Shanks’ question, breathed along the back of his neck.

“Our little rabbit wants us to pretend we all get along,” Mihawk purred, danger and challenge in those golden eyes. “Think we can all get along on that giant bed, or should I tell–”

“Can we,” Buggy asked, looking up at Shanks’ grin. 

What if this is it? What if this is the end?

Buggy wasn’t sure which “end” he was more concerned with, and that made him want to beat his head against the table. 

What the fuck do I want?

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

I want to forget everything. I want everything to freeze right here, tonight. Never start again. Just this.

“All you gotta do is tell us what you want, sweetheart,” Crocodile promised, his hand tracing down your bare skin after Mihawk freed you from those fancy clothes they’d picked out for you. You giggled when Buggy started from the bottom, kissing up your ankle and shin, shivering when Shanks mirrored him on the other side. 

“You said we all need to get along, right, love,” Mihawk teased, his voice alone making your body tighten with need. “My little vixen… You want everyone to get along inside you, don’t you? Want us to spoil our little darling? Want us to drown you in come?”

“Fuck, please,” you begged, interupting Crocodile’s weak argument against it. Interrupting whatever flimsy excuse he could muster up for why they shouldn’t fuck your brains out tonight. “Please, fucking take me.”

“Anything for you, little rabbit.”

Oh gods.

 So many things. So many sensations. 

Buggy on his knees in front of you, his tongue finding your clit like a fucking magnet. Shanks behind you, his hand holding one of your cheeks aside while his hypnotic tongue made you cry out, teasing, and then fucking your ass while you twitched. 

Mihawk gripped your hair, forcing his tongue into your mouth while you whined before he shoved your head down, shoving your mouth over Crocodile’s thick cock. You cried, struggling against his size, until Mihawk took your place, showing you how it’s done. 

Crocodile threw his head back, and the needy moan from Mihawk’s stuffed throat was enough, Buggy and Shanks’ tongues sending you screaming for the first time that night. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, falling back against Shanks’ chest while you devoured the sight of Crocodile fucking Mihawk’s throat, fisting that soft, black hair, and calling him his “sweet, little prince.”

“Want us to fuck you, little bunny? Want us inside you?”

“Please, gods…”

“You heard her, Bugs, let’s–” 

“Shut the fuck up, and fuck my girl’s ass already.”

Buggy was already kissing along your cheek as they kneeled on either side of you, whispering to check if it was alright. Lubed fingers were shoved up your ass while your eyes rolled back, not ready for the pressure that was about to fill you. 

“Oh, ffuck…”

“Little bunny likes getting fucked like this, huh? Like my cock in your tight, little ass? How did I know you’d feel so fucking good? Fuck her, Buggy. Let me feel your cock inside her.”

“Buggy!”

“Fuck, star… Gods,” Buggy moaned as he forced himself inside your needy cunt. He kissed you while you fell apart, whimpering and screaming with every greedy thrust. “Shanks…”

“I feel you, Bugs,” Shanks purred, his strong fingers finding your clit. He made you come, screaming your voice away while he talked to your clown. “She’s perfect, Buggy. Let me feel you come inside her. Let’s fill her up. You wanna please him so bad, don’t you? You want his come, bunny?”

“Need it,” you managed to moan while you twitched. 

They may have said more words, but all you knew was their achingly hot pleasure pouring so fucking deep inside you. They filled and filled you while they kissed each other over your shoulder, letting out sweet, little moans while you took everything that their cocks could give you. 

Before they were done fucking each other through your body, you felt Mihawk’s fingers in your hair, tugging just hard enough to pull you out of the feelings you were about to dip into. 

 “Want more, darling?”

“Please.”

“So voracious. I wonder if these little boys can keep up.”

“We're just getting warmed up,” Shanks taunted, fucking his come into your ass with a few wicked thrusts while you spasmed against him. “Can’t wait to see what other tricks our pretty bunny can do.”

“Come here, sweetheart," Crocodile purred from the bed, sitting against the headboard. “Daddy’s cock’ll make you forget everything.”

Whining, you begged to get off of the two cocks that had just made you scream, and onto the one that would rip you apart. 

“Come on, boys,” Mihawk ordered as he helped you line yourself up, their come dripping down to mix with the lube Crocodile had rubbed over himself for you. “Let’s watch our lovely girl’s sweet pussy get destroyed.”

“Fuck, daddy,” you cried out, the stretch of him inside you still a shock after all your time together. “Daddy, it’s too much.”

“Nah, babygirl,” he soothed, kissing your neck while his hand guided your body over his. “You can take it. Take it for daddy. Take everything...”

“My little rabbit,” Mihawk hummed, kissing up the back of your neck. “You love it when we take you like this, don’t you?”

You started to say yes, but when he shoved himself into your come-soaked ass, all you could do was scream. All you could do was pant, and twitch, and come, and then fucking come again when they told you what a good, little girl you were. 

“You fuck our girl so well, little prince,” Crocodile praised, bringing a soft moan from Mihawk’s throat. “Gonna stuff her sweet ass for daddy? Show me what a pretty mess you can make?”

You both cried out, their cocks twitching inside you. So fucking good.

“Mm, be a good boy, and kiss me first. Make our sweet girl come with your fingers again.”

“Daddy,” you fell apart, feeling his lips on yours before you watched him kiss Mihawk over your shoulder. Your head fell to the side, and your eyes rolled back at the sight of Buggy and Shanks with hands and lips all over each other.

But Buggy’s eyes were on you. 

“Buggy,” you whispered at the sight of him, and suddenly he was there. He was kissing you. 

“My little clown,” Crocodile purred, fisting his hand through that gorgeous blue hair. “Wanna make it up to him, little prince?”

“Yes, daddy,” Mihawk breathed, his fingers still making you twitch. 

Buggy had already stopped kissing you, staring back and forth between the two men while they fucked into you, while he trailed his hands down your skin. 

“I wanna take care of you,” Crocodile promised, his voice getting rougher as he fucked you open. “You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you, little clown?”

Your mind was almost lost to it all, almost fucked out, but his words felt heavy, vital. Your breath caught, waiting for your clown to answer. 

“Yes, daddy.”

“Mm, such a good boy for me,” Crocodile praised, tugging that blue hair a little harder while you came on their cocks again. “Show him how sorry you are, little prince. Suck his dick. Let Buggy fuck that mean little mouth of yours.”

If you weren’t already coming, you knew you would have at those words, at the shocked look on Buggy’s face when Mihawk opened wide, at the sounds they both made when Buggy shoved his floating cock so deep, so fucking fast into the swordsman’s throat. 

“Fuck yeah, daddy’s so fucking proud of you,” Crocodile groaned, thick come spilling down the sides of his cock as he filled you. Mihawk made delicious whimpering noises while he came in your ass, Buggy’s cock strangling him, then spilling across that perfect face when it pulled away. 

You caught Buggy’s eyes when he stared at his mess, his satisfaction making you twitch again. Mihawk reached for Buggy, kissing him hard over your shoulder. 

The door closed. It wasn’t a slam. That probably would have helped you remember why there was a door at all, let alone another human being on the fucking planet. 

But the door shut, and Buggy was gone, leaving your body screaming until your other lovers let you loose, praising, and kissing, and touching, until you shivered with pleasure. Carrying you into the shower like they had that first night. 

Buggy returned, helping to scrub Crocodile’s shoulders, making you all laugh under that lovely, warm water. 

So many pretty lies. 

Smiling against Buggy’s chest, with Crocodile curled up behind you, and Mihawk’s hand touching you from around Buggy’s body, you felt perfect. 

This was exactly what you’d wanted. 

Exactly the kind of pretend you had asked for. 

Tonight you only dreamed of the transponder snail, and you decided not to answer. 

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

It was already too much. Too much that Buggy couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. 

It’s okay. He loves her. We’ll take her away.

Those words rang through Shanks’ mind while his clown couldn’t look away from the monsters in that bed. It was okay, even when Buggy left him without a second glance to kiss her. It was just for her.

Until it wasn't.

He called him daddy.

He let Mihawk… 

Mihawk had… 

Now they're kissing like that… 

Shanks had to leave. 

“Shanks, hey! Where ya going?”

The red haired emperor rarely had to lie. Rarely had to fake a thing. Never had to fake a smile. 

But he did now.

Shanks plastered a smile on his face, tilting his head at his lovely, old friend. 

“I’m good, Bugs,” he lied, moving close. He was about to touch his chin, but the thought of Mihawk there made him pause. “You should sleep in there with her. If you come with me tomorrow, then this is your last night to play pretend with them.”

“But–”

“It’s okay,” Shanks lied again, getting over himself to kiss those faded red lips. “I’ll be here in the morning, Bugs. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Soft, sweet eyes scanned his face, so Shanks held onto that fake smile as tight as he could. Wanting his clown to be happy.

“Okay,” Buggy whispered, reaching for his hips to pull him closer. "You can join us if you want. I’m sure–”

“I’ll be alright,” Shanks laughed, fighting not to shove Buggy back into that room, and slam the door on his new life that made no fucking sense. “Goodnight, baby. Dream about me.”

A bit of satisfaction ran through him at the shudder Buggy gave when he teased those words, kissing below his ear. The emperor turned around before his clown could say another word.

Shanks needed to get the fuck out of there. 

Before he hurt someone. 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Mihawk couldn’t recall feeling the amount of pleasure, safety, and comfort that he had tonight. The warmth and slow breathing of his three lovers would have had him drifting off. 

Yet, he couldn't recall feeling the level of terror and helplessness he had felt when he watched Y/N fracture, the chaos in her distant eyes sending ice through his veins.

His darling's secrets kept him awake, especially at the searing thought that she might leave with Shanks. She might leave before he could hunt and kill whatever had poured that poisonous laughter down her throat.

That laughter.

“Hey, Hawk Eyes.”

Shanks’ quiet voice taunted through the halls, dangerous laughter floating with it.

“I know you’re awake, old friend. Let’s have a chat.”

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the DRAMA! How's everybody doing?

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak

Part 21

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[acescorazon]

Hiii! Just like the last person, i also started with the live action and then found your fanfics and ah! Im the one that commented on almost all your work djdj and told you i read it on my lunch break and the train! Thank god i speak spanish so people wouldn't read what was on my phone sbdbbd and yeah, thank god i was also wearing a mask on the train so no one would see me giggling like and idiot. But i wanted to tell you that omgg i love your stories how the hell your brain is so sexy but also funny i love how the smut its very silly also because we get to read buggy's thoughts. I didn't even like buggy on the live action till i saw the fanarts and i was suddenly like "you know what? He actually has pretty eyes..." and then here i am with a massive crush on a clown. I also started to ship buggy with mihawk because i have a thing for rare pairs and i was like you know what they would be hot but i was only imagining them like the live action BUT THEN YOUR FANFICS and now im on episode 7 of the anime cause i just want to understand better, like i love your crocodile but i dont even know how he is so yep, im on the anime nfnfnf and im here to tell you that you are amazing, seriously, i read your stories at night, at morning, when i finish my work bfnfj like i became obsessed with the ot3

Hi i remember you lolllll i replied to your comments this morning :) honestly it blows my mind that you'd read them in public, i could never have that bravery LMAOOOO. BUT STOPPPPP I'M LITERALLY AN IDIOT LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO. i think i said this at the end of my most recent fic but like i'm really out here just writing the most unrealistic ass smut sometimes. sometimes its just plain STUPIIIDDD lmao. but i do fancy me a good laugh but i never verge off into Crack territory lol. The actor does have really nice eyes, doesn't he???? i'm a clown f*cker tho so i was always going to simp for h- ANYWAYSSSSSS. @here i am with a massive crush on a clown. LMAOOOOO? First time???? LOOK L I S T E N. Honestly. i'm a Cross Guild girlie at heart so for me this is a buy one get two free deal but i swear to god Mihawk/Buggy IDKKKKKK. IDKKKK BABESSSSS. idk those two have the potential to have the messiest relationship yet and plus they're hot like you said LMAOOOOOO. LISTENNNNN LISTENNNN I'M THE BUGGY SIMPPPPP (jk there's probably someone who loves him more) AND WHEN I TELL YOU THERE'S JUST SOMETHING ABOUT THAT MANNNNN. JUST HES. *CHEF KISS* he's delicious, tasty, and PATHETIC. HES SO FUNNY AND DUMB AND I LOVE HIM SOOO MUCH. His debut episodes/ Episode 46 which is like 'Little Buggy's big adventure' is honestly the funniest shit to me and like they're my comfort episodes. Also like i said in the prev ask Alabasta is just my comfort arc for so many reasons lolololol Mainly bc my fave character appears and so does Croco and i love baroque works with a passion. (nobody asked.) it may not be everyone's slice of pie, but it's mine :))))

ANYWAYS LMAOOOOOOOO. Trust me bestie the way i write Crocodile isn't a headcanon LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. You'll see when you get there aljsldjasldjasldkajsdasd. If anything i typically go light on my depiction of him bc he's hngngnngngngngngn. Yeah, he's Crocodile alright LMAO. Not much of a spoiler but i'm here to tell you that Oda is starving us in terms of Cross Guild content, but have no fear jlkjsljdlkasjdaks i'll take one for the team. ANYWAYSSSSSSSS.Thank you again for the really nice message dear, i really appreciate it and i hope you end up actually liking the show a lot and don't have to watch 9845840850948509485098450840548094850948 episodes to think it's got any sort of appeal LMAO. THANK YOU AGAIN X30000 But know this: the moment Cross Guild debuted i knew...I KNEW i had to write for them. I knew i had to write Buggy in every scenario possible, and i'm working on it.

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

Omg I’m so happy I’m not the only one who feels like this about Mihawk! I even cosplayed him, because I think he is so cool, but if I actually had to choose between any of those characters I don’t think Mihawk would be that high up there? Maybe it’s because I felt let down, since a lot of fans talked about him and I finally read one piece and there’s just so many more fascinating characters, with much deeper relationships between them in one piece world? But I like cross guild, do you think we will finally get some content? Maybe we get to see his duels with shanks? You think it will be meaningful enough?

(re: this post)

yeah, mihawk has incredible vibes but… not much in the way of concrete lore available, lol.

and you know, i understand why those fans talked him up to you! he’s the first shichibukai we’re ever introduced to, he makes one hell of an impact! his mere existence acts as a warning to the characters we already know and love about what it means to be on the grand line, and what it will take to survive there. he’s very cool, very powerful, very honorable (thankfully for zoro), and shrouded in mystery. he’s meant to intimidate and entice. and it works, he definitely does that!

but we’ve been on the grand line since chapter 101, almost literally a thousand chapters ago. we’ve met tons of powerful characters since then—many of the strawhats have become powerful on that absurd, grand line level—and plenty of those characters have bonded with our heroes, told their stories, explained their motivations, been given depth. not mihawk.

a few thoughts on this:

these days, mihawk occupies a similar role re: zoro as shanks does re: luffy, and all we’ve learned of shanks’ motivations has been from other characters’ POVs. maybe this is just how oda operates when it comes to mentors? obscure motives for all??

we only know as much as we do about zoro’s motivations because the audience was shown a flashback; to the best of my knowledge, zoro has never told anyone about kuina (except tashigi, and he kinda botched that explanation). if we only knew what zoro wanted us to know about his motivations, i think we’d know about as much about zoro as we do mihawk. so maybe this is just a swordman stoicism thing.

or maybe oda just… can’t be bothered to provide backstory for characters who aren’t in the main cast or act as major arc villains. he’s got so many characters at this point i can’t really blame him, lmao.

but maybe cross guild will give us an opportunity!

i can’t imagine it happening any time soon—i’m not super up to date, i prefer to binge read arcs after they’re complete, but the current arc seems unrelated to the laugh tale/one piece hunt—but as i’ve discussed before, shanks and buggy both going after the one piece makes me confident they’re going to run into each other at some point. for peak drama, it would only happen at the very end of the hunt, but oda likes to undercut drama sometimes (especially where buggy is concerned), so who knows.

whenever it happens, mihawk’s consistent refusal to engage with shanks, to the extent that he once left a battlefield specifically to avoid him, should be a conflict within cross guild. and a flashback to at least one of their fights—maybe their last one? or maybe to the first time they met after shanks lost the arm?—would make a lot of sense in that moment.

now, would the contents of that flashback be meaningful? i hope so. i haven’t put a lot of thought into the potential whats and whys of mihawk, or his relationship with shanks—but i want him to be more complex than he sometimes appears. like, for example: i don’t want to think mihawk refuses to fight shanks just because he’s down an arm. i want the reason to be more interesting than that.

[thetoxicgamer]

FFXIV Sale Makes Now a Great Time to Discover Everyone’s Favourite MMO

It's a fantastic moment to learn why FFXIV is generally cited as one of the top MMORPGs of all time because Square Enix has just started a significant FFXIV sale. This is a fantastic opportunity to start for the first time, upgrade if you've loved the free trial, or hop back in and see Endwalker if you've taken a break thanks to the substantial discounts on both the main game and its expansions. But wait, I hear you exclaim, doesn’t the critically acclaimed MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV have a free trial that includes the entirety of A Realm Reborn and the award-winning Heavensward expansion with no restrictions on playtime? Yes, as you might have heard if you’ve spent much time online, it does indeed – but there’s so much more to FFXIV than just those first two story arcs, and what better time to jump in than now? Alternatively, perhaps you’re already a free trial player and you’re looking to buy into the full thing. After all, while there are no playtime restrictions and you can level all the way up to 60, you are fairly limited in certain ways while playing on a free account. No joining a free company (FFXIV’s guild system), no directly messaging other players, no retainers for item storage, no access to the player markets to buy and sell gear – there’s certainly plenty of benefits to making the upgrade. The FFXIV Endwalker expansion is 50% off, as is its digital collector’s edition. Both of these also include the two prior expansions, Stormblood and Shadowbringers, the latter of which features some of the best story content in any RPG game period, although you’ll need a copy of the starter edition of the game to play them. If you haven’t ever bought FFXIV, then don’t worry – the Starter Edition, Complete Edition, and Complete Collector’s Edition are all 50% off as well. The FFXIV Complete Edition is the one to go for if you don’t already own the base game, and it’ll get you everything there is in the current edition of the game along with 30 days of playtime. Of course, it’s important to note that once you buy in, you will need an active subscription to play – so if you’re not 100% sold, then stick with the free trial for now. FFXIV spring sale discounts The FFXIV sale is live from March 1-15 on the Square Enix store, along with on the PlayStation store for console players. You can play on the same account across both platforms, but you’ll need to own a copy of the game and expansions on PC and on console, so perhaps if you’ve ever considered making the switch now is a good time to do so. Here are all the prices for the discounted editions in the sale: - FFXIV Starter Edition – £14.99 GBP / $19.99 USD - FFXIV Complete Edition – £17.49 GBP / $29.99 USD - FFXIV Complete Collector’s Edition – £42.49 GBP / $69.99 USD - FFXIV: Endwalker – £14.99 GBP / $19.99 USD - FFXIV: Endwalker Collector’s Edition – £22.49 GBP / $29.99 USD https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTTtd6bnhFs You can find these discounts on the Square Enix store (UK and EU link/US link). Unfortunately, it looks like this sale doesn’t currently extend to the Steam version, so if you want to switch over you’ll need to buy the full thing, as expansions from the standalone launcher don’t cross over with the Steam edition of the game. The FFXIV patch 6.35 release date is right around the corner, so there’s plenty more on the way if you’re an active player. If you’re just stepping into Endwalker, don’t miss our FFXIV Island Sanctuary guide, along with our tips on how to play the FFXIV Reaper and the FFXIV Sage – the two jobs introduced in the expansion. Read the full article

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Confession time. My favorite Beatles song would actually be don’t make me choose between In My Life or And Your Bird Can Sing. Before we dive in, I want to note some things. 1057-1058. The Rakugo performance that feels a little off, the absurd saga of Cross Guild’s formation, Sabo & Cobra...these chapters are swimming in dodgy stories that don’t reflect events as they occurred and we now have a second newspaper. Terra firma, right? Break next week puts 1059 on the weekend of the Chrysanthemum Festival. 

Also...the Sunny is now equipped with a timeout cage. I’m just saying, it’s this goofy cartoonish gag yes but it jives with a new Quartermaster on board. I swear to god Oda if I see you thread the needle of keeping Kiku’s oblivous innocence up alongside a fascination with bondage...

Why this panel though? Beyond the cage. Let’s talk art design for a sec. This is a normal-sized panel on the page but it’s jam packed! Seven Straw Hats goofing around as a much needed blowoff to a big arc. The focus of this panel though, where is it? It’s weird, the center is the space between Franky & Jinbei. You have these nice lines in the groups all drawing the eye into the center, even the rigging helps. But it’s weird, what is that sticking up from the barrel Usopp is hiding behind? Enhance!

Rorsarch time! Remember you’re looking at an extremely blown up small section of a manga panel here. The detail we do have is incredible, but it’s better to judge at its intended size. Now the only other answer I’ve gotten is something like Usopp holding a gun behind the barrel? That doesn’t jive. It’s further in the back and as big around as Jinbei’s arm. So I don’t think Usopp’s rocking a massive revolver now. Especially not in conjunction with the classic Ketchup Star. Seems about right for a tall, thin woman in profile though. Facing the other side of the ship than we’ll turn to with Robin. Can sorta see a leg coming out of a skirt/puffy shorts. A right arm capped with a short sleeve. Thing at the top as a hair accessory and long hair down obscuring a face. Or a 3/4ths of someone looking over the boat with bangs, an obi tied behind her back, and no left arm. Hair’s too light for Kiku though, right?

No reason for Nami to suddenly go dark last chapter. But one of those old ideas I’ve always had (never really had a good time to mention) was the notion that coming on with a story like this, particularly with the actress vibe and heavy content around reputation, it wouldn’t be crazy to have a design change accompany it. Nothing major, but a blonde dyejob was my legit first thought. Differentiate from Robin more, cute homage to Kin’s delinquent days, and it’d make her a throwback to a popular trans manga icon from Oda’s childhood.

Stop!! Hibari-Kun was a contemporary of Dr. Slump in Shonen Jump that ran around the time he’d have been like, 5-8ish. At the time, it would have been the offering from a proven veteran competing with Toriyama the young hotshot. Romcom about a boy and another of these otherwise perfect transfems. Cute, absurdly positive for early 80s manga, quite popular in it’s time, and if you read it you will see some gags that crop up later in One Piece. Like...I can see the influence just from comedic style alone.

So I guess what I mean is yeah...on top of everything else I can buy 1057′s sihouette being a last look at Wano Kiku and in the time since departure she’s had a little costume change, now ready for a beautifully timed debut. It’d be an echo of Kin & Momo’s journey here. They always felt jarring until we got to Wano, where in their element the characters blossomed. Kiku’s perfectly primed to be the opposite. A bigger personality than her station in Wano allowed, ready to break out. Actually, Denjiro spelled out the concept well in 932:

”The water at her roots,” yeah that’s a good way to put it. On second look that chapter is dunked in some core themes for us here, this moment sandwiched between Robin’s difficulties at this type of infiltration and later Orochi being another villain to go hard on the “many faces” theme. Overall hunch is in death or glory mode from here, but with these potential teasers happening twice after all the weirdness we’ve already had, I’ll go on and do 1057-1058 proper. Because there really is a mountain of relevant thematic territory. One last hurrah either way, right?

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia drabble

author’s note: well. i said it. and here it is!!! this is based off the most recent gruvia matching covers of fairy tail 100 years quest!!!:) i felt super inclined to write this bc 1. those covers are BEAUTIFUL and 2. well... last time gruvia was at a ball it.......didnt go so well!!! (end of the gmg arc......iykyk😔) SO!! i hope i did these covers justice!:) enjoys bbies!!!!! and im tagging @sobatsu bc i was instructed to lol!!:) i hope u enjoy, love!!!:)

*

“Wow.” Lucy lulled, taking in the grand surroundings. “I forgot just how nice this palace was.”

“Yeah, it’s been a little while since we’ve been here, huh?” Natsu finally looked up from his plate as he said with a mouth full of food.

“Natsu, manners!” Erza scolded. “Queen Hisui was kind enough to invite us here for her birthday ball. Don’t embarrass Fairy Tail.”

Juvia, however, was not taking a large part in the conversation. She was more focused on a certain someone, and how she had yet to even talk to this certain someone throughout the whole night.

Once she heard that Fairy Tail would be attending Queen Hisui’s birthday ball, she was estatic. Rather than dwelling on the fact that last time she was in that very ballroom Gray essentially rejected her, she decided to look at the glass as half full. She would reinvent herself this night. She would wear a dress even more dazzling than before, she would act so elegantly even if it killed her, and she would do everything in her power to make Gray eat the words he said at the last royal ball. Juvia would show Gray that she was an even newer version of herself, and she was a woman more than deserving of his love.

However, the fact that he seemed to be avoiding her the entire night was certainly putting a damper on Juvia’s plans. She didn’t want to overcrowd him like she seemed to last time, but patiently waiting for him to approach her was killing her. She wanted to gush over the fact that he looked so handsome in his fancy suit and sweep him off his feet onto the dance floor, but unlike her usual, she was trying to keep her cool. Unfortunately, “keeping her cool” was turning into a burning irritation. She kept her eyes glued onto Gray as she mingled with Jellal across the ballroom. They were chatting and laughing with drinks in their hand, and Juvia wanted to be by his side as he did so. Instead, she watched, and subconsciously poked at her food with her fork as her other hand tapped anxiously on the table.

Naturally, Erza was the first person to notice her agitation. “Juvia? Is everything alright?” She asked.

“Eh?” Juvia finally snapped out of her daze. She stopped her fidgeting and turned towards Erza. “Juvia’s fine.” She forced a laugh.

“Is that so?” Erza raised a brow. “That must be why you’ve been staring off and playing with your food for 30 minutes without taking a single bite.”

“Urgh!” Juvia finally dropped her fork. “Why hasn’t Gray-sama talked to Juvia tonight?! At all!” She spat out.

Erza gave a low chuckle. “I could’ve guessed that’s what this was about.”

“Why don’t you just go up and talk to him, Juvia?” Lucy chimed in.

“Because,” Juvia groaned. “At the last ball, Juvia was a bit—well— abrassive, and it totally turned Gray-sama off.” She sighed. “Juvia just doesn’t want to make the same mistake twice.”

“You know, the last ball was a long time ago. A lot has changed from then. Not only you and Gray as individuals, but as a couple as well.” Erza casually explained, tucking a loose hair that fell from her bun behind her ear.

“A c-c-couple?!” Juvia’s face turned red. Sure, she and Gray had gone through a lot together since then, but their relationship was anything but definite. They were in this awkward “more than friends” stage that Juvia just couldn’t seem to fight her way out of.

“Erza’s right!” Lucy said, optimistically. “Gray cares a lot about you, so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you went up and talked to him or asked him to dance.”

Juvia sighed, somewhat defeated. “Juvia supposes you two are right, but I really don’t want to mess anything up tonight.” She began lightly messing with her food again.

“You should do whatever you feel is right, Juvia.” Erza gave her a reassuring smile.

Juvia finally smiled back. “Thank you Erza-san, and Lucy-san, but Juvia is sure. She will lay low tonight. Whatever happens, happens.” As much as it killed her, this is what she decided to do, and deep down she would hope Gray would eventually approach her.

“Hey, Juvia,” Natsu interjected. “While you lay low, are you gonna’ eat that?” He clearly had eyes for her plate.

“Natsu!” Lucy exclaimed.

Juvia hummed a giggle. “It’s alright. You can have it, Natsu-san.”

After all, she was far too anxious to stomach anything right then.

~

While Gray was paying attention to Jellal and their conversation, he couldn’t help that little thing that was itching away at his mind. Finally, he glanced over her way across the room to see she was talking with Erza and Lucy.

His index finger tapped at the glass in his hand, unknowingly to him. He quickly shook his gaze and turned back to Jellal.

“So it’s safe to assume you’re fitting right in at Fairy Tail? You’re a new member and you’re already going to all our parties.” He said to his old friend, but new guild mate.

Jellal nodded. “Well, there’s never a dull moment, that’s for sure.” He chuckled. “I would hate to miss out.”

Gray playfully raised his eyebrow. “Is there a particular reason you’re inclined to be so involved? Maybe, I dunno’, because of a certain red-head, by chance?” He teased.

Jellal’s eyes went wide. “W-what?! Erza?! I—erm— not necessarily! Why do you say that?!”

Gray couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re as cool as a cucumber all the time, but as soon as Erza comes up in conversation, you start buggin’ out.”

“I guess I can’t help it.” Jellal sighed contently and looked over to her table. “She has that effect on me.” He grinned.

Gray admired Jellal’s realness with himself. It was a trait that Gray seemed to lack sometimes, especially when it came to the feelings department. That got him back to thinking about that thing that was poking at him all night. Or rather, that thing that wasn’t poking at him. Wasn’t bothering him, wasn’t clinging to his side, wasn’t flashing that engulfing sweet grin, wasn’t talking his ear off all night.

“H-hey,” Gray finally let his anxiety fall off his lips. “Does Juvia seem...” He realized he was failing on putting the right words together. “I dunno’,” He exhaled. “Weird... to you? At all?” He finished, agonizingly.

Jella furrowed his brows. “Weird as in...?” He wasn’t sure just what Gray was getting at.

He groaned. “I don’t know, like she’s acting kind of... differently tonight, right?”

“She looks perfectly fine to me.” By the tone in Jellal’s voice, it was clear he was trying to pull something from Gray.

“Y-yeah.” Gray swallowed his thoughts.

“Or could you be getting at the fact that she hasn’t been following you around at all tonight?” Jellal pried.

“I mean, yeah! It’s not like her to— well— leave me alone.” Gray snorted. Here he was, finally getting a second to breathe from her, and he was complaining about it.

“Does it bother you that she’s not bothering you?”

“No!” Gray immediately answered, but once he saw the look he was getting from Jellal, he knew there was no fooling him. “Ok, maybe.” He turned away.

“It’s just strange to see her not being herself.” He looked at the drink in his hand and swirled it around. “So, yes, in a weird way, it does bother me that she’s not glued to my side.”

“Well, Gray, it kind of seems like you’ve answered your own question, my friend. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go ask a beautiful girl to dance.” Jellal flashed one last smug smirk at Gray, almost as if it were a nudge, and walked strutted his way across the floor. He watched as Jellal executed his plan with that very red-head that knew just how to ruffle his feathers. Shortly following, Lucy and Natsu excitedly arose from their seats and entered the dance floor as well.

Gray knew what he had to do.

He downed the drink that sat in his hand, slammed it on the table beside him, took a deep breath, and headed towards her.

For the first time all night, Juvia wasn’t looking at Gray. She had her chin resting in the palms of her hands as her elbows leaned on the table. She looked longingly onto all the couples that were dancing the night away. It was hopeless. She had been defeated for a second time.

Flower petals fell from what was seemingly the sky, as the guards released them in bushels, setting the perfect mood for the couples romantically dancing.

“O-oi!” Juvia knew that voice all too well. She snapped her gaze at that direction.

“Gray-sama?” She nearly gasped. This was the first time she’d been so close to him all night.

“Juvia.” Gray took a deep breath. “Do you...” He held out one hand as his other instinctively scratched at the back of his head, as he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He felt the blush burn his cheeks, so he couldn’t help but look away in the moment. “Do you want to dance with me?”

Juvia’s first reaction was her eyes widening, not believing what they were seeing. Her lips parted as she finally took in a breath after what felt like an eternity with no air.

“Yes. Juvia would love to.”

Gray finally looked back at her. and the world around him completely faded away. All he saw was her. Juvia’s long waves draped her frame perfectly, as parts in the front fell and curved onto the seams of her dress. She looked at him with a hooded gaze, one that stared into his entire being, and he was mad that he orginally didn’t have the courage to look into her deep blue trance. Pink frosted her porcelain skin perfectly, and it just so happened to match the soft petals that fell onto her so perfectly, grazing her hands that were crossed on top of each other, tightly held at the center of her chest. She was truly all he could see in that moment, and he didn’t care. All he ever wanted to see, was her. It was a sight he could look at for eternity.

Finally, the nerves seemed to dull. He gracefully took her hand, and led Juvia onto the ballroom floor. She was first to wrap her arms around his neck, and Gray matched her, a bit awkwardly at first, by placing his hands onto her back.

“Juvia thought you would never ask her to dance.” She half groaned and half chuckled.

“Yeah, well, you could’ve asked me yourself, y’know.” They continued to sway back and forth, stepping with ease.

“And risk rejection?! For the second royal ball in a row?! Juvia’s heart couldn’t take it.” She dramatically explained.

“Well it’s not like you to stand on the sidelines.” Gray scoffed.

“But it paid off didn’t it?” She hummed a giggle. “Gray-sama asked Juvia to dance.” She sang

“Yeah, but I didn’t like seeing you be all—well— not yourself.” He muttered and embarrassingly turned his head to the side.

“Eh?” Juvia pushed her face towards Gray. “Gray-sama doesn’t mind Juvia’s mannerisms?” She boasted

“Urgh, well, I like you, okay?! And part of what makes you you is how you’re so loud, and giddy, and forward, and in my face about everything.” He finally looked back towards her. “So don’t go changing anything about yourself, alright? I like you just the way you are.”

For the first time ever, Juvia was at a loss for words. Without giving a verbal reply, she removed her arms from Gray’s neck, and wrapped them around his torso while she prompty pressed her cheek against his chest.

“If Gray-sama insists.” She hummed, snuggling up.

For a moment, Gray didn’t know how to react. Before he could think of a response, he was overwhelmed with a sense of familiarity. This feeling, this sensation of Juvia being so close to him was exactly right. He loved feeling this closeness with her, not only physically, but emotionally as well. Even though he wouldn’t admit if half the time, he longed for moments like this. Her embrace brought him a sense of home like no other could. He calmly wrapped his arms around her, and brought her in even tighter than before.

Finally, while in each other’s arms, just as they knew they should be, Gray and Juvia danced into the night.

[eeveevie]

revelations (1/2)

Just as Brynjolf is coming to terms with his true feelings for Fiona, he learns about her true identity thanks to a dragon attack on Riften. She is the Dragonborn. Emotions run high, and he questions if anything they ever shared was real.

Just when things couldn't get worse, Mercer decides this is the best time to take Fiona to Winterhold for a mission. Can her and Brynjolf's already ambiguous relationship recover from this betrayal of trust?

x - x

*I was asked by a few people (because it is referenced in a few of my stories for the pairing) at what point does Brynjolf learn that Fiona is the Dragonborn. This is it! A dragon battle in Riften, that leads to a huge-ass argument about lies/betrayal. Angst-fest incoming! This has some slight references to a story I haven’t published yet, but have 80% written, so it made sense while I was completing this.

There is a follow-up companion piece to this that bridges the gap between this story and "Betrayal and Forgiveness." Basically will be Bryn during the events of "Speaking With Silence". Will be posted as a second part in a few days. *

Brynjolf x f!Dragonborn (Fiona) 

3306 words (under a cut) | Ao3

Part One: To Hide the Truth

The two sat at a table in the Flaggon, content in their silence as they ate their meals and drank their mead, taking in the surrounding chatter of their Guildmates. Brynjolf was perfectly content to stay there all evening if it meant studying Fiona’s face, watching the small secret smile on her red-painted lips, the sparkle of her sapphire eyes when they danced over to meet his. He couldn’t recall a time he had ever felt so content with a person—let alone a woman—not needing conversation to pass the time.

For weeks now he had been slowly coming to terms with the fact that the affection he held for her was much stronger than friendship, that the yearning in his heart went beyond flirting, lingering touches and stolen kisses. Fiona—the talented thief who had joined their ranks all those months ago had managed to sneak in and steal his heart in the process. Mara curse him, he wanted her—in every sense of the way—but something was holding him back. For all the confidence he had in being the Guild’s second, the thought of baring his emotions to the woman he cared for was terrifying, uncharted territory.

When Fiona’s boot twitched against his under the table, he knew she was starting a flirtatious game, one that he eagerly accepted with a small returned tap to her ankle. She bit back a grin as they continued, their feet pressing back and forth against one another in playful pushes for dominance. Finally, Brynjolf crossed his ankles over her own, lightly pinning her feet to the floor. She squirmed in her seat but let out a delightful laugh, head tossing back to expose the column of her neck that he so desperately wanted to kiss and mark as his own. Perhaps he’d find the courage to tell her tonight and act on these damned feelings—after a few more drinks, of course.

Her wide smile faltered with the first shake of the table, the bottles on Vekel’s shelf clinking together, a few falling to shatter on the ground. The bartender turned around startled and upset, but Brynjolf stayed focused on Fiona’s expression as her eyes flicked upward, lips forming a thin line as her jaw clenched shut. Another, more intense rumble echoed through the tavern, this time knocking more bottles and cutlery from the tables and countertops. As members of the Guild began to stand and move out of alarm, Brynjolf watched as Fiona remained curiously still, her eyes still glued to the ceiling.

“What is it?” Delvin asked to nobody in particular. “A quake or somethin’?”

Fiona blinked, quietly answering. “No.”

Before anybody could question her, there was a commotion at the Cistern entrance, a few bodies rushing to make their way into the Flaggon. Sapphire led the pack, her eyes wide as she bent over, breathless. She waved a hand upwards, and in the general direction of where the booming sounds had come from.

“A dragon,” she said. Brynjolf darted his gaze back to Fiona, whose brows had furrowed at the confirmation of what she already expected. Sapphire continued, shaking her head wildly. “I was in the marketplace when it attacked. Barely made it down here—”

Fiona stood up with a start, the chair she was just sitting in nearly toppling to the ground as another tremor shook through the Ratways, more powerful than the previous ones. Brynjolf watched her path for all of five steps before realizing where she was heading, scrambling to stand and walk after her.

“Lass!” he yelped, the two squeezing through the makeshift bookcase door that led back through to the Cistern. Inside, the remaining Guild members were laying low, speaking in hushed tones about the possible events occurring topside. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to help,” she explained plainly, not bothering to stop to turn to face him.

“What are you talking about?” Brynjolf asked in alarm. “We don’t have to go up there—”

“You’re right,” Fiona barked back at him, her tone causing him to pause in his hurried steps to follow her across the walkway to the graveyard exit. “We don’t. But I’m not going to stand around down here and let the city be destroyed when I’m the only one who can defeat it.”

What?

Brynjolf rushed to catch up with her, reaching out to grip her by the elbow. He hadn’t meant to catch her so roughly, but her words didn’t sound like boasting. Fiona stared down at his hand on her arm before her eyes glanced up to meet his. The emotions there only confused him further—determination and fear were to be expected, but sadness and guilt? She pulled away from him again, wordlessly moving to leave the Ratways to the surface. Brynjolf steadied himself with a deep breath before realizing there wasn’t enough potions on Tamriel to calm his nerves—a dragon? He quickly followed Fiona up the ladder, thinking to himself that love made a person do crazy things.

Riften was known for its magnificent sunsets—the way the sunlight caught the lake waters and the foliage of the surrounding trees was truly a sight to behold. And when the evening mist settled in and the bright auroras lit up the evening sky—it any wonder that the town attracted so many visitors to the marketplace and pier just to get a glimpse. Of course, that evening, as the sun was setting, a different kind of shadow swept across the hold, sending the city into chaos.

As Brynjolf and Fiona ascended from the Cistern they were met with the sounds of screams, guardsmen shouting orders to citizens and soldiers, anybody who was able-bodied to help bring down the beast currently circling Mistveil Keep. The dragon’s roars heard loud and clear, relentless as it echoed across the sky. When Brynjolf looked to Fiona, her expression was exceedingly difficult to read as she focused on the dragon’s sounds, as if she was trying to interpret them.

Finally, she glanced at him, a steady calmness to her tone. “Protect the citizens. It’s an Elder Frost Dragon, so don’t do anything reckless,” she paused before adding with precision, “you mustn’t get in the way of its unrelenting force—the shout will break every bone in your body—killing a mortal man.”

Brynjolf listened, his mind rushing a mile a minute as her words started to make sense. He was a Nord, these stories weren’t unknown to his kin—but they were just that—stories, rumors that had been so far removed from him and his life in Riften. Ulfric killing the High King with a shout? The dragon attack in Helgen? The Greybeards suddenly summoning this cryptic Dragonborn? Dragonborn—Vekel had heard she was a Nord woman, but that she had disappeared months ago. Right around the same time Fiona had appeared in Riften and joined the Thieves Guild. When she had come into Brynjolf’s life and changed everything.

“Fiona,” he said her name slowly, and her eyes shined in way that told him she understood that he knew.

The veneer broke away, her bottom lip trembling as she stepped closer to reach for his hand, but he surprised even himself when he flinched away. She braced herself, fisting her hand closed. “I’m sorry for not telling you before.”

Brynjolf wanted to argue—a little late for that—but with the dragon’s screech, they were starkly reminded that this was neither the time nor place. Fiona shot him one last pleading look before sprinting off in the general direction of the Keep, her gaze quickly focusing on the enemy. An overwhelming sense of dismay settled in Brynjolf’s gut, and his heart wedged in his throat—he didn’t want to believe it, that she had been hiding this from the Guild, from him the entire time.

As he rushed across the marketplace to do as she asked, his mind continued to race—Fiona had lied from the very start, and now the last several months of their relationship started to crumble before his very eyes. Was any of it real? Was she just stringing him along? As blissful and content as he had felt earlier that evening, as close as he had been to revealing how he felt about her, now all he could feel was contempt.

“Dovahkiin!”

Brynjolf snapped his head skyward as the dragon swept low across the marketplace, landing on the roof of Black-Briar Manor. It arced its head side-to-side, expelling a large gust of frost that caught a grouping of guards on the wooden planks below, killing most of them instantly. Suddenly, an arrow pieced right between the dragon’s eyes, causing it to rear up in pain, and stopping the flow of ice. The dark ebony color told Brynjolf exactly who had shot it, and he followed the path until he found Fiona crouched atop the Bee and Barb’s roof, a mirror image of the dragon.

It kicked up from the Black-Briar Manor, hovering just long enough for Fiona to fire three more projectiles, all making their mark within the beast’s belly before it soared towards her. Brynjolf anticipated more shots from her bow—she was one of the best archers he knew and could easily hit a moving target, but instead she stood and lowered her weapon.

“YOL!”

A stream of fire blasted from Fiona’s lips, the echoing sound of her voice carrying the heat directly towards the dragon and engulfing it in flames. It shrieked, its large wings flapping in a panicked frenzy to fly away. Brynjolf could only watch in wonder, not realizing he had been holding his breath until he felt dizzy. The lass could breathe fire. He followed Fiona’s movements as she tracked the dragon, moving beyond the city’s northern gates before crashing to ground in a terrific crumble. She leapt from the roof without a second thought, landing into a sprint to follow. He quickly chased after, as did many of the guards, seemingly bewildered at what was happening to their city.  

Beyond the gates, the dragon lay thrashing, dark red blood oozing from its wounds even as the fire Fiona inflicted upon it died out. She lunged at it with a bravery Brynjolf had never seen in any warrior and one he could only dream of having. With one hand clutching the dragon’s neck she used her other hand to plunge her dagger deep within its jugular, tossing her legs across the beast’s head to steady her movements as it tried to toss her away. Fiona continued to cut and stab, her movements unrelenting even as the dragon slowed, her only stopping when the dragon slumped across the ground.

The dragon was dead.

Almost immediately the guards were shouting in celebration, moving to crowd Fiona as she simply stared down at the dead beast. But it wasn’t over. The thick black scales began to disintegrate and within mere seconds, there was nothing left but bones and ash. Swirls of yellow and orange spiraled upwards and condensed, concentrating as they searched for a host. Like a breath, Fiona inhaled the energy, her body glowing alive with the dragon’s soul before in an instant, all was calm, as if nothing had happened.

A guard spoke first. “Dragonborn, it is an honor.”

She didn’t say anything, only turning to find Brynjolf’s gaze where he lingered by the city gates. They stared at each other in silence, even as the crowd of spectators grew to cheer and congratulate Fiona on her victory. But it was hollow to her as she noticed that Brynjolf wasn’t joining in on the merriment. How could he when this power of hers had been unknown to him less than an hour prior? There was no denying it, now that he had seen it with his own eyes. She was the Dragonborn and things between them would never be the same.  

They returned to the Cistern without speaking a word to one another, the tension rising as the silence stretched. As if the Guild could see strain between the two, they strayed afar, a few even scampering away as Fiona briskly made her way to one of the back rooms. Brynjolf followed, determined to have her answer for her deception. As soon as they crossed the threshold of the training room he reached out, this time grabbing her arm much rougher than before. Fiona spun around on her heel, eyes widening in alarm as she blinked up at him, face so different from the fierce warrior that had just single-handedly defeated a dragon.

“I suspect you have questions,” she said slowly, eyeing his hand on her arm.

Brynjolf furrowed his brow, irritated beyond belief. What kind of game was she playing at? Was she playing coy just to get under his skin? He shook her once, but it only made her expression obscure into something akin to fear. “You’re damn right I have questions!”

Fiona yanked herself free from his grip, but did not move away, squaring her shoulders as she met his burning gaze. “I can start from the beginning, when I came to Skyrim, what it means to be—”

“No, no,” he interrupted with a curt, mocking laugh. “I get to ask the questions.”

He began to pace before her in a short path, bringing one hand up to rifle through his hair. “Why did you come to Riften?”

“I was looking for someone in the Ratways,” she started to explain. “Like I told you when we first—”

“Just stop,” he groaned in reply, interjecting her again. He covered his face with a hand, wiping it across his brow before rubbing at his jaw. Their first—second—meeting in the Bee and Barb—it wasn’t something he really wanted to reflect on right this moment. Considering that all his happy memories with the lass were quickly becoming tainted, he supposed it truly didn’t matter. Regardless, he shook his head. “I’d rather you not lie about that.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Why exactly should I believe you?” he asked. “Especially now?”

Fiona’s expression fell, her eyes darting across his face in a silent plea of sorts. “Bryn,” her voice was low. “Brynjolf, you’re the last person I wanted to keep this from. I never expected…I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you did,” he retorted, coldly. He crossed his arms. “I’m not overly interested in the reasons why. Not anymore. I’m more interested in if anything else you ever told the Guild was the truth. What you told me was the truth. If everything we ever shared was just one big fantasy that you never planned on staying in.”

“O—Of course it was the truth!” Fiona’s voice trembled as she stepped closer to him, her eyes widening in surprise at his words. Even he was shocked at his candor, the raw emotion flowing through him. But all the affection he had felt for the woman standing before him was missing, and his heart wasn’t aching with a want to tell her he wanted her—it was aching with a betrayal he hadn’t felt before.  

“How am I supposed to believe that, Fiona?” he asked in a desperate tone. His mind rushed with every detail they had every shared, from mundane to intimate and personal, over the last several months. “Are your parents even dead?”

She slapped him instantly, the sharp sting of her hand leaving a burning sensation along his jaw. Brynjolf immediately knew that he deserved it—guilt fluttered through his veins as he noticed the tears pooling in her eyes. He had seen her cry before, but he had never imagined that he’d one day be the direct cause. So not everything was a lie—but Fiona had still chosen to omit the largest truth about herself, and that was something that Brynjolf could not forget, or possibly forgive.

“I can’t believe I ever thought—” Fiona hesitated, her hand pressing to her forehead, and then to her eyes to wipe the stray spill of her tears that were flowing unapologetically now.

Brynjolf’s anger flared at what she could’ve possibly said, and he waved his hands in disagreement. “Oh no you don’t,” he argued. The sight of her tears made him less guilty, and more annoyed now. “You don’t get to …you betrayed my trust. I’m the one who gets to have second thoughts about our future now!”

“Excuse me?!” Fiona yelped, obviously taking large offense to his phrasing. “Cut the bullshit Bryn. You want to call me out on keeping secrets when you’ve kept plenty of your own as well! And don’t even get me started on playing stupid games with people’s emotions. You want to know how I feel?”

Brynjolf sarcastically rolled his eyes. “Oh lass, please enlighten me!”

“Tafiir,” she hushed, almost in an endearing way—he didn’t understand. Fiona shook her head, dissolving back into her irritation. “Sometimes I feel like I could…I could…”

“What are you going to do?” Brynjolf taunted, leaning in dangerously close to her face. “Shout at me?”

Fiona’s eyes darkened, and for a split second, he feared he had just signed his death-wish.

“If you two are quite done!”

Brynjolf and Fiona both turned, only moving the slightest bit away from one another at the sound of their Guildmaster’s booming voice. Mercer stepped into the room, expression one of disappointment and annoyance—though, he was always generally annoyed with something, Brynjolf thought.

“Fools, the two of you,” he spat. “Lowering yourselves to a lovers’ quarrel.”

Brynjolf bristled at the mention, and made to argue, but bit his tongue at Mercer’s icy glare. He glanced to Fiona and saw that while her jaw was clenched tight in frustration, there was the slightest blush to her cheeks—he tried not to let the appearance change his mind about how he felt about her now.

“I really ought to have split you up a long time ago,” Mercer suggested with crossed arms. “Perhaps this could’ve all been avoided.”

The two remained silent, as if they were children being scolded by their father. Mercer smirked, low grin causing an unsettling feeling to creep up Brynjolf’s spine. What was the Guildmaster planning?

“Fiona. It’s time you traveled with me. Now that you’ve made yourself useful and shown your worth,” he explained. “Gulum-Ei’s information about Karliah is taking us to Winterhold—Snow Veil Sanctum.”

“One way or another, this is going to end,” he said. Brynjolf felt perturbed by Mercer’s statement, but couldn’t place why, the feeling not dissipating even as the Guildmaster stepped away. He glanced back to look Fiona directly in the eyes. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”  

She stood up straight, swallowing down a lump in her throat before anxiously picking at her armor. It was still covered in dragon’s blood—she would need to pick up some belongings from her home before the trip—Brynjolf watched her nervous twitching and wondered if she was stalling. Fiona looked up at him, lips in a taught line as she held his gaze, silently pleading for him to say something. But he wouldn’t—he was past that, too exhausted to think of the right words to speak—if there were any.

All he felt now was numb. Perhaps some distance between them would do some good…even if that involved Mercer. Seemingly catching the hint, Fiona took a half-step away and then another, slowly moving further and further away until she was almost completely out of the room. At the last second Fiona glanced over her shoulder to peer at Brynjolf, their eyes locking for the briefest of moments. Neither said a word—no farewells, no last-minute apologies. He closed his eyes, if only to move past this moment as quickly as he could.  

When he opened his eyes, she was gone.

x

leave a tumblr kudos? :)

[millennial-star-gazer]

Tantric Flames (Reupload from  cosmicdragonwizard accounts): Chapter: 1

Tantric Flames

Originally for Nalu Week/Fluff Week/Lovefest 2017 (on previous accounts)

Genres: Romance, Humor, New Adult Fanfiction

Prompts: Body Language (Implied) Tatoo (Implied), Interwined and Wild

Fluff Week Prompts: Soulmates, Letters, Fairytail/Mythology/(Implied), Fashion and Affection.

Nalu Lovefest 2017 Prompts: Lust, Stockings/Lingerie, Sweets (Implied) Dreams(Implied) Games and Roleplay (Kind of Implied in Form of Teasing)

Upcoming Nalu Love Fest 2018 prompts: Kiss/Makeup (kind of) Playful, Desperate, Unbearable, Estatic ,(Implied) and Teasing 

Pairing: Nalu (Natsu x Lucy)

Rating: M for language, steamy and mature adult sexual content (all consensual) in these and future chapters. Reader Direction is advised.(You have been warned!)

Summary:One look, one smouldering hooded gaze, one word, one fiery kiss, one magnetizing touch was all he needed for her to completely unravel at his mercy alone, succumbing to the sinful temptation of her inhibitions, his love, his feral passion, his raw, insatiable desires, his "Tantric Flames". Originally a Submission (slight Au) for naluweek/fluff week/lovefest 2017 (on previous accounts) in which Natsu gives his mate a tantric massage-after much persuasion- she won't soon forget when it turns into so much more.

Chapter 1: Gravity of Tantric Love Part 1

A/N:Hey guys, it's me back again (aka the former comsicdragonqwizard/dragon-shield-maiden/star-crossed dragon with a reupload of one my fics Tantric Flames. This fic should be considered slightly AU since it takes place a short time after the events of the final manga arc where Natsu is still a Etherious dragon-slayer demon hybrid (after Lucy is still able to save him, but without the merging seeds putting his life at risk). Anyways, I don't want to keep you all much longer, so without further ado, here is the story. ! (Oh and don't forget to hit me up on fanfiction/Tumblr (millennial-star-gazer on tumblr) Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail which instead belongs to the one and only Hiro Mashima, nor the brochure text featured in this fic.

Read More Here:

1.Tantric Flames

A. Tumblr

Chapter:1  Chapter: 2  (Click Here:)   (Or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179864399283/tantric-flames-reupload-from-previous-accounts/amp)

Chapter: 3  (Click Here:)  (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179864756428/tantric-flames-reupload-from-previous-accounts/amp?)

Chapter: 4   (Click Here:) or here: (https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179871908778/tantric-flames-reupload-from-previous-accounts/amp?)

Chapter: 5  (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179872139218/tantric-flamesreupload-from-previous-accounts)

Chapter: 6 (Click Here:)   (Or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/183149105838/tantric-flames-chapter-6-despojado-stripped)

Chapter: 7 (Click Here:)  (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/185033161848/tantric-flames-chapter-7-what-belongs-to-a-fire)

Chapter:8 (click here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/188352271948/tantric-flames-chapter-8-tantric-art-of)

Chapter:9 (Click Here:)   (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/624402662880854016/tantric-flames-chapter-9)

B. Fanfiction (Click Here:) (or here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13114990/1/Tantric-Flames-reupload-from-cosmicdragonwizardaccounts)

C. A03 (Click Here:) (or here:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/17063882/chapters/40123739)

2. The Draconic  Demon Within

A. Tumblr:

Prologue and Chapter: 1 (Click Here:) (or here:https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179816192273/the-draconic-demon-within-reupload-from/amp?)

Chapter: 2 (Click Here:)  (or here:https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179816192273/the-draconic-demon-within-reupload-from/amp?) 

B. Fanfiction (Click Here:) (or here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13113898/1/The-Draconic-Demon-Within-Reupload-from-cosmicdragonwizardaccounts)

3. Grey Days

A. Tumblr  (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179767381833/grey-days-reuploadfrom-dragon-shield-maiden/amp?)

B. Fanfiction  (Click Here:) (or here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13112482/1/Grey-Days-Reupload-from-dragon-shield-maiden)

4. The Rest of My Writing

A. Master Fic Rec Post (Click Here): (or  here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179665258923/master-fic-rec-post

Legend:

Italic: Notes and Flashback:

Bolded Italics: Pamphlet text in Flashback

Bold: First Person Thoughts in Flashback

Bolded Italics (Within Bracket) author's side notes also known as (A/N:) within brackets)

"In the eye of storm you'll see a lonely dove.

The experience of survival is the key to the gravity of love."

(Enigma: Gravity Of Love)

To my beautiful mate:

Luce,

Come to the guild's library for your Happy Endings" massage when you get here . I'll be waiting.

Natsu

P.s. If you get any of those stupid jerkfaces tryin' to make a move on you got the sexy get up I have no doubt you're wearin', remind me which me to keep an eye out on the streets for so I know who I owe a good thrashin' if they even think of tryin'' again.

The words scrawled across the paper though barely legible, seemed to leap right off the page of Natsu's hand written note, electric surge of thrill-infused energy pumping through her veins; in time with Her heart beating a mile a minute from anticipation over the implications of his promise. Clad in nothing more than a lacey-silk-cotton bra and panties set underneath her turquoise-blue kimono fabric of her robe ,the summoner strode her way past the prying eyes of guild members' stares without a single glance when she entered, thinking only of the morning's past events.

Flashback

The morning at the guildhall had started off pleasantly enough when Lucy made arrangements to meet with Levy for a "girl's pancake style breakfast", delighted by the prospect of dilvulgjng news of a nifty little deal Lucy just happened to come across on her way over (that in actuality, proved to be quite a feat itself considering how she first had to pry herself free from the tempting , warm arm's embrace of a somonolent, overtly-thoughly sweetly affectionate dragonslayer seemingly reluctant to loosen his hold on his most beloved princess even in the midst of his state of half-dreams showering her with lazy kisses along the creamy canvas of skin which was beyond nearly impossible to resist.) The details of the "nifty little deal" in question were pertaining to a phamplet Lucy collected from a zen-like sales rep handing out brochures as a promotion tactic to attract would-be clients to the opening of the new "Eastern Promises Luxury Beauty, Health, Wellness and Rejuvenation Spa" towards the east end outskirts of Magnolia.

Selling the young woman on the idea of "trying out discounted luxury spa services for first time vistors-the sales rep words, not hers,-though quite effective in their appealing to the privileged "little rich girl-heiress in her -the celestial wizard gladly accepted the brochure before rushing over to the guild to meet up with levy.

Now Lucy was seated at the bar sipping her fresh mug of coffee about to show the script Mage the leaflet, when she was greeted by the soft pressure of lips brushing against her cheek at the same time of sinewy arms encircling her waist to pull her back against a solid chest she couldn't help but lean into .

"Mornin' Luce," Natsu rumbled, husky vibrations of her lover's voice against skin sending tremendous- not to mention beyond pleasant - shockwaves rippling through her nerves. "So this is where you ran off to after you left huh?

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," Lucy acknowledged, light-hearted affection highlighting the lilt of her words. "And obviously, I needed to get up to get ready because I told you yesterday I was meeting Levy for breakfast. Remember?"

"Yeah, course I do weirdo. But you could've stayed in bed a little bit longer with me. Honestly wish ya did, 'cuz I missed those extra few minutes of being able to hold you close in my arms." came his quip of faux-woe , though an endearing amount of sentiment filling his every word otherwise were pulling the corners of Lucy's lips into a wan smile. "Why'd ya have to go and leave me so soon in the morning, anyway Lucy? I would'be gladly given you all the sweet, tender lovin' ya' needed."

"And I have no doubt you would-which I really appreciate- but you know why I couldn't. I would have been late otherwise and besides l didn't want to fully wake you up, since you looked so zen laying there in the sheets. Though it was pretty - Ooh Natsu!" His lips were peppering kisses along the curve of Lucy's cheek, drawing out a breathy giggle-infused squeal in tune with Natsu's contented hum rumbling in his throat.

"Getting your daily fix of showering affection on your girl, aren't you, Natsu?" Levy teased with a light-hearted jab, lifting a brow in response to his , throaty chuckle reverbating through Lucy's bones turning to mush.

"Hmm, what can I say? I can't get 'nuff of her when she's just so damn irresistible, can I Luce?"

"I'll say, I'm just that fabulously enchanting apparently," was Lucy's wry quip, words dripping with light-hearted sarcasm in response to her boyfriend's schmaltzy declaration, which in all honestly actually tugged at her heartstrings just a little. "It'd certainly explain why I struggled to pry myself loose from the ironclad grip of a sleepy, overly insistent pyromaniac of a soul mate who refused to let go."

"Yeah, well, kinda hard to let go when you're a lovesick dragonslayer like me who just wants to cozy up to his mate that he's absolutely crazy about and kiss all over when he wakes up ," drawled the fire breather, his words laced with a lazy purr, all the while burying his nose in the crook of her neck to nuzzle-which did nothing to help Lucy's concentration-before resting his chin over her shoulder. "And 'sides, I didn't exactly hear ya complainin' earlier when I was warmin' you up with to my kisses, but we can discuss it later. Anyway, what're you an' Levy up to now?"

"Lucy and I are just chilling. You know, sitting, drinking some coffee. Catching up. Pretty much just enjoying each other's company really." Levy replied in personable nonchalance, lifting the spa brochure off the counter as she spoke. "Though Lucy was just about to share the details of this spa pamphlet with me actually. It's this new spa opening on the eastern border of magnolia, maybe you've heard of it?"

"You mean that new 'Eastern Promises' place that just popped up? Yeah, I heard of it, been the talk of the town for nearly a week to the point where some of them local townies won't shut up 'bout it. Though it's cool I guess. Why? The two of you planning on checkin' it out or somethin'?"

"Maybe... We're possibly interested in a specific kind of service they may have on offer. Take a look." The dainty hands of the script mage flipped open the leaflet, revealing elegantly written text flowing across the page.

"Why are morning massages so good for You? After a restful nights sleep your body and your muscles are warm, soft, and very pliable, before the stresses of the day set in. This is the perfect time for a Siam Thai or Oil Massage. Your aches and pains can be soothed away. With this in mind we make you this Special Morning Massage Offer: for a relaxing and rejuvenating Siam Thai or Siam Oil massage..."

The morning massage service promotion in their advertisement seemed to leap off the page at the stellar mage with the promise of the ultimate rejuvenation. Images of what could be, flashed before her eyes: herself spread out across a massage table where the tensions in her muscles from long over-worked hours, after a gruelling mission were melting away beneath kneading hands of capable masseuse.

"They're offering this amazing package deal of discounted services in the first few visits for newcomers! I was actually thinking of heading over there myself later to book a morning massage," Lucy chattered away, her entire face seeming to light up; only to elicit a small noise of disapproval from Natsu.

"Hmmm- I don't know if I think that's such a hot idea Lucy."

"What? Why?" Genuinely puzzled by his reaction, the blonde bombshell's brow furrowed; creasing the dent between her eyes, slanting over to glance at her lover's lips pressing together. "Natsu? Why don't you think it's such a 'hot idea,' exactly?"

"I ...all right, it's just ...and hear me out here." Natsu sighed after a pregnant pause, lips pursing, jealous and territorial vibes seeping into the breath of his voice. "The idea of some bastard, any other guy, touching you, my mate, the one whose heart I rightfully claimed for myself… It doesn't exactly sit well with me."

"Why though?" Lucy pressed again, uncomphrending confusion over his explanation still evident. She would've understood his reaction if this was one of those tantric massages-with anyone other than him- the kind she so often read about in the audit pages of those Love and Fashion Lifestyle magazines.

But there's nothing even remotely sensual or sexual about the type they're offering at the spa, like the tantric karma sutra kind - which I'd never be interested in with anyone other then Natsu since he's my soul mate whom I'd never cheat on. So why all the possessive-someone-trying-to- make-a-move-on-what's mine dragonslayer vibes I'm getting from him?

"There's nothing sexual or intimate about what they're offering in the package from the spa, so what's the problem wiith me going?"

Natsu simply gave a shake of his head in response, lips set in firm line. "Doesn't matter, still too intimate for my tastes."

"How so? Elaborate please." Levy chimed in as follow up, hazel eyes alight with curiosity.

"Well okay. You likely know by now there's a process in which there are some things that are a definitely huge no-go zone in what some random person can and cannot do with the chosen person claimed by a dragonslayer. Right?"

"Yeah, I should. I'm Gajeel's, aren't I?"

"I figured you would. Anyway, a massage from another person of any sort - even the non-sexual kind, would be too intimate for a non-partner to do. In the eyes of a dragonslayer, who, like dragons, are very territorial, possessive, greedy creatures, we are fiercely protective of those we love. Especially our mates. So a dragonslayer's mate getting a massage from some other person they weren't bonded to would be pretty much be out of the question.

"We aren't exactly thrilled bout the idea of a person we know touching our mates, it's way worse if it's some strange douche bag's hands all over our women. Lucy's no exception. 'Cuz like I said before, she became mine and mine alone when I claimed her as my mate. She belongs to me as much as I do her.

"And, not to mention, me having these instincts are heightened 'cause I'm a dragonslayer demon hybrid. Demons also share the same instincts when it comes to their own mates! I refuse to share her for intimate stuff like that with anyone else who ain't me."

"Huh-" Levy mused pensively, teeth kneading her lip. "Interesting... I'm guessing that would no doubt obviously include massages. Though even when it's a paid for, completely non-sexual service, done by a professional in that type of business like a masseuse or masseur?"

"Yep even then, stranger or otherwise."

Lucy could only watch her fellow guildmates verbal exchange of in passive silence, heart sinking when any hope-infused fantasies to unwind in it's most ideal form, after a hectic job requests beneath the capable hands of a masseuse, were beginning to fade."

And seeing how that would be a major line that no sane person would not wanna cross if that were to happen , any one of them stupid enough to do it by lookin to give my girl a rubdown are just beggin' to have their asses kicked.

"Even more interesting..."

"Yeah, you should take it up with metal-face over there before you consider booking a massage for yourself. 'Cuz he'd prolly tell ya the same thing."

"I think I will..."

"Wait , so Natsu what you're basically telling us it that it'd be in everyone best interests for any of any mate Of a dragonslayer not to book a massage because their lovers wouldn't approve of anyone else -maSseuse or otherwise like you said - giving them one?" the celestial Mage's voice broke in moment later when she clued in, unable to stop disappointment from bleeding into her words."so are you're saying I shouldn't go then?"

"I honestly prefer you didn't Luce." Natsu went on to point out before clarifying, though he didn't sound angry, "Didn't book the massage, I mean."

"So then this means no more plans of morning bliss at the hands of a highly trained professional in the art of massage ?"

"No sweetheart, I'm sorry," Natsu verified with a seemingly infinite-amount of"-tender-hearted-patience-reserved-solely-for-you -being-the-love-of-my-life-and-all, pressing lips lightly against her temple in a chaste kiss ( though it did in spite of her disappointment, warm heart at little his soft-hearted treatment.), "not unless you wanna see me clobber a guy for touching what isn't his. You definitely can still feel free to go the spa for somethin else though, yeah?"

"Oh... I uh...okay...Dammit." Lucy was fumbling in her efforts to work towards a solution; to which Dismay over finding none were pulling the corner of her lips into a frown, eliciting another chuckle from Natsu.

"Aw, c'mon weirdo! Don't be like that. I'll be happy to give you one if you want and besides," - His lips were at Lucy's ear now,whispering sinfully sweet nothings Which when in tandem with his hot breath fanning across the shell were shooting tingly shives of delight down her spine ." I thought you liked my massages."

"I-i do" Lucy muttered somewhat distractedly, breath hitching in response to her bewitching-wicked -dragon-sexgod-of-a-lover's teeth grazing shell to say nothing of the rapturous waves of sheer ecstasy already in the process of washing over her.

Levy meanwhile, decided at that very moment to slip away -though not without a infuriatingly cheeky "you-are-so-hopelessly-smitten to that boy's charms"- kind of giggle escaping her throat; to which the blonde made an idle note for later to find a way to wipe the smirk on that damned girl's face for her traitous, teasing- based mutiny." I still do believe me -love them In fact- but it's not fair for you to go to all that trouble."

"Hmmm...but that's were you're wrong Lucy, I just love making my beautiful mate feel good , so it's no trouble at all really." Natsu countered or rather crooned in that silken purr of his, which really wasn't exactly doing wonders for her spiking heart-rate already interrupted in the process of skipping several beats. (especially when he opted to drive home his point by dragging golden-platinum-blonde locks through his fingertips ).

"They, uh...They have these amazing discount prices for new customers."

"Really, is that all?" The hot jet of air he blew in her ear was distracting enough to render coherent speech nearly impossible; plus the knuckles in her grip on the surface of the bar were starting to turn white(as if the goosebumps rippling across her skin wasn't enough).

"Did I-I mention the mani-pedi they're throwing in free of a charge with the massage? It's a limited time offer."

“Hmmm ...no , but I don't see how that's relevant."Natsu challenged timbre coming out way too smoothly for Lucy's own good , depositing a branding wet kiss on the patch of skin below her ear in succession with well timed nibbles in between sucks(;to which one sexually flustered Mage swore she could practically hear the rate of her heart shoot through the rooft .)" I mean I can easily give you my own unique special brand of "happy endings" massage treatment therapists can dream of and for free no less, don't ya think?"

You got me there." Lucy soon realized right there and then that he had her -right where he wanted her, in which her resolve was finally starting to waver after caving into his desires, utterly incapable of resisting when she found herself on the verge of being reeled in by the lure of the pull behind the tempting implications of his words after all counterarguments she could possibly think of failed , ;albeit not without the cadence of her voice between syllables sounding a little too breathy for her own ears.

Your typical, day-day , run of the mill animal magnetism most other women seem to be into be dammed, Natsu's got his own special kind that that only someone who's got the ihots for a by dragonslayer, demon or hybrid combination of the two could possibly even think of beginning  to understand.

"Mhmm, anything else?" Natsu fired back at her in between nips and sucks in which the pure bliss from his minstrations were starting to manifest itself in the form of molten desire pooling then soaking through the cotton fabric of her already- dampened panties. though if her boyfriend knew-oh was she kidding, he properly did like usual with that hyper -sensitive sense of smell of his- he likely opted not to say, lest he risk drawing unwanted attention."

"No..." Lucy pressed her thighs together, doing everything in her power not to squirm.

"Didn't think so..."

Another wet kiss atop her new mark scattering all train of thought to which she could could practically hear the diabolical smirk behind the rise and fall of his voice.

“Cat got your tounge, huh Lucy? Anyways look, tell ya what-" Natsu began to offer, lilt of words laced with a husky purr after Lucy failed to respond (what with the way his fingers were stroking along the curve of her collarbone and all).

-"give me some time to get it all together and I'll be happy to give you a massage. I'll even throw in those scented candles and music you like so much so it'll be like you're at the spa-make it all romantic and shit- the best one ya ever got from me or anyone for sure. How does that sound?”

"Really nice actually, okay sure let's do it," Lucy breathed, swayed into accepting his deal from being unable to resist the temptation of of the fire-breather's words, the sheer irresistible power of his magnetism alone, the raging inferno of her innermost desires.

God... I'm like putty in his strong, capable, hands ...

Fic tag squad: @writer-appreciation​  @fuck-yeah-nalu

 @soprana-snap  @phoenix-before-the-flame     @nunnatheinsanegerbil @mautrino @rougescribe @goddesofimortality @phoenix-before-the-flame  @nalufever  @petri808 @thecelestialchick @nalu-natic  @superdomo360 @pyroandtheprincess  @rayhneatess  @nothingbutwordsstuff  @petri808  @thecelestialchick  @chiire  @nalufever @shootingstarssel  @chamilsanya  @rougescribe  @lover-of-the-light117  @rougescribe

A/N: On to Chapter 2!

[xivelliot]

Hawthorne frowned, leaning forward on his palm to watch the man all but strut across the shroud, pomp and decoration. For a minute, he just chewed the inside of his cheek and watched. But, after another, he held up a wave with a bandaged hand, cutting his own whistle into the other's off-brand tune for the arc of a second.

Several of the Eorzeans outside the wall's gates looked his way, but didn't much move. Even from a distance, the smell of blood and molded cloth from the crates beside him had grown near-unbearable, and who knew what diseases could still be carried out of Ala Mhigo in blood and flesh from all those years of confinement under Garlean rule.

Koke Ugund didn't wave back, though he did lift his chin high enough that oversized juts of his horns were pressed back to the collar of his coats - snagged at the material where flaking things caught threads. The man made a face at that, though his eyes were on the highlander off near the road. Case swung at his side as he walked, gloves tight around the metal handle.

"My, don't we look a mess."

"Speak for yourself." Hawthorne stood up, stretching as he did, and for a quick second the lazy posture and unfit clothes did little to hide the working patterns of trained muscle that rolled over his entire body. When his arms dropped, though, the image was gone - just the regular, bulky build of a somewhat short highlander, staring up at the Xaela from a pace or two away. His hands rest on his hips.

"I know I'd heard about the uh, what're they, Au Ra? Coming over more and more, down in the south. But, I mean. You went a little /too/ noticeable, I think? You guys all like your flare sure, but uh," he looked the man up and down, rolling a finger up and down over the deep scar that dragged through both top and bottom lip, taking on half a smile. "Didn't even go with the gold horns?

Koke opened his mouth wide, laughing as he flashed teeth. The sound he made was hardly a pleasant one, though grin was split across his face. Soft clack of metal that dangled from those over sized hunks of horn sounded as the man shook his head, leaning forward as he did so. "Not a lot to come down South for I can say with a /great/ deal of certainty." And still the case he held swung at his side. "And no, though maybe I should have - not as though the things would be any more sightly or less cumbersome - or don't you agree?" Hand was lifted and he scratched just below horns, near flaking clump of scales just above the line of a collar which once would have been considered very fine, expensive even given the gold trim dancing along its edges. "Ready and waiting, is it?" Eyes gave an odd gleam in the dim light of the wood, icy things catching in the darkness. "It's all set. Just need to head back to the main city where the conjurers guild can look over for disease." In this proximity, the stench of blood was nearly overpowering, but maybe a margin more acidic than it should've been. Off, somehow.

He scratched again, long nails raking against scales as Koke's eyes flashed across the man, quick flit across his person before ghosting away back to that distant musing and swinging metal handle he held. "Oh...and you spoke with the guild already, was it?"

"Well," Hawthorne was still grinning, the cocked smile wide and vicious as it was jovial, his stare scanning the man, "you're already well beyond the brinks of 'slightly', I would think. But that's not for me to judge, i suppose." He ran a finger again over the deep scar on his mouth, an action that would be almost pointed if it weren't so much a habitual tick. As he grinned, the other scars that crossed his face warped and contorted, wrapping around the other signs of age that'd begin to set in. "But at least in my case, Ala Mhigans aren't expected to stay pretty.

“The guild'll get spoken to when we get there.” He answered finally, turning around. “I'm sure they're pretty well used to this by now. No reason to notify anyone, just bandages and terrible, northern diseases rampaging the salt flats. The usual." Offhandedly, he waved at some of the papers that were still on another crate. Several pages of a thick card-stock in Gridanian emblem, though written not from any Gridanian commander or government. The scroll instead seemed vague, possibly written in code, and written by someone with far less a grasp of Eorzean vocabulary than one would think by anyone official. "The order's over there, if you want to look it over. I had some questions, but... we can get to those."

“Oh, far beyond that." he seemed to mime the others expression in an immitation of a grin that caught where scales crept across his face far too far as though they'd simply kept growing like a dark scab against blue skin. The way they flaked and peeled hardly helped this vistage. Koke cocked his head to the side, let it tilt until huge jut of horn was resting on his shoulder as he looked sidelong at the other. "Judge away,” Koke said, “You were given permission, or is that not the way questions work down in southern dirt?" Hand raised, motioning to the pages though Koke didn't himself move to retrieve anything - simply waited to see if it was given over. "They get spoken to then, I would suppose." he started to shrug, though in doing so rolled shoulder upon which rested overgrown horn. The mans whole head lifted and fell and instead of falling back into comfortable stillness, the Xaela dragged horn across fine fabric covering his shoulder - once, twice, in a quick deliberate motion like a deer rubbing velvet off against a tree. The result was nearly the same - though whatever grime and dead flaking residue which began to peel away hardly so natural. He hummed, a sound close to contentment.

Hawthorne paused as he turned back around, his hand still in the middle of affixing the small trolley to his belt and his stare and odd smile locked up on the man's awkward scratching. The horn against his shoulder, the pile of peeling carapace that built there in a small, curling mound. His smile grew a little more taught, and he even opened his mouth as he looked back to meet the man's eyes again. But he didn't speak - not right away. Not while the Au Ra made another mention of their contact with the conjurers guild.Very quickly, the space between them closed, a wide grin cutting across his teeth while he dropped to a much quieter branch of tone. "I appreciate it, but you really don't need to put on so much of a show for the Alliance. It's /just/ the fuckin Alliance. Eorzea's forgiving." Still smiling, he paused again as he stood back, his head tilting. "Can you imagine that?" He asked suddenly, once again back at regular volume. "/Me/ telling someone to cut on the theatrics. After all the odes I sung to your boss about my grated reform to the good and right in Rhalgr's eyes... did Ana send you to woo me? Grab that crate, let's go. I am, unfortunately, a man sworn permanently to stay a bachelor."

[planarchaosproject]

Planar Chaos: One Shots

 Like Nothing Ever Happened

"H-honey?" Ashleigh softly closed the door to Odom's spacious Ravnica apartment behind her. How long had it been since she'd been here? Two years? Three? Possibly more? The voices pounded against her skull. There were too many people, too much life crammed into this plane. "I'm back."

She received no response. He was probably in the lab. Ashleigh ducked into the bedroom and opened the closet, pleased to find her Izzet and Dimir guild robes still hanging in the back. Her signets and the lantern she'd stolen from the Dimir shortly before first meeting Odom were in the box tucked into the back corner of the closet as well. It felt good to wear them again.

Shortly after what was her second encounter with the planeswalker Brock inside this very apartment, she had come back to visit Odom. Things went how they always did, only this time Ashleigh woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and unable to ignore the cacophony splitting her skull. The voices had been a constant part of her life since she stumbled upon Maralen in Glen Elendra after the Aurora had been dismantled. Nobody she went to had been able to make them stop, so after a while she just started ignoring them. They grew louder on planes with more life and softer on those that were sparsely populated, but always she had been able to push them away.

Not that night. Ashleigh had been consumed with an overwhelming desire to destroy everything around her, starting with the planeswalker sleeping next to her. He was so blissfully unaware that, should Ashleigh finally snap, he was first in the line of fire. It would be so easy.

Except that Ashleigh didn't actually want to kill him. If friendship was measured by who was able to put up with you for the longest, Odom was certainly her only real friend in the multiverse. They had fun together. There was so much they wanted to do, like blow up a plane.

She'd planeswalked away then and there, returning to her dark eyrie on Innistrad where she could at least have some measure of peace and quiet.

Ashleigh changed into her Izzet robes and descended the stairs into the lab. It was apparent Odom wasn't home. The door to the room where he kept Maelstrom Wanderer was open and the elemental was nowhere to be seen. The layout of the lab had changed as well. The incubation chamber had been moved to the center. A series of valves and tubes supplied it with various materials. Two open jars sat on the table next to the chamber. They both contained pieces of bark, one labeled "Me" and the other "Brosephus". A third, closed jar contained what looked like small strips of pale skin, a smaller vial of blood, and a few long hairs. This jar was labeled "Ash".

She had no memory of volunteering the samples to Odom.

There was a rumbling noise from Maelstrom's room. Odom was back, it seemed. The soft, squishing noise of him sliding off of the elemental's back and landing on the ground confirmed this. Ashleigh had the sudden desire to run, to planeswalk away, but getting to Ravnica had been difficult. She could only imagine how hard it would be to get back. The plane hadn't wanted to let her in, but she found a chink in its armor. This same chink had been exploited in the past by one Jace Beleren to escape after being transformed into the embodiment of Ravnica's Guildpact.

The door was opened with a kick and Odom entered the room carrying two rucksacks filled with jars. His arms, all five of them this time, were full as well. They began to magically sort themselves, flying to shelving units that Ashleigh was sure were a new addition.

Thankfully, the magical sorting was finished before Odom noticed her standing there. When he did, three of his arms fell off into puddles of ooze and Ashleigh thought she saw his jaw start to fall off before he reached up to put it back into place with a squelching, cracking noise.

He crossed the room in an instant. Ashleigh was prepared for a fight and took a few steps back in preparation, but instead of striking her he caught her in a bear hug.

"I'm so glad you're back. It's almost finished and it didn't feel right doing it without you." He guided her back to the incubation chamber. The biomass had attained a vaguely oblong shape and Ashleigh could see the beginnings of limbs. "I also need an accomplished electromancer to provide the spark of life. I don't know anyone better than you."

Ashleigh rolled up her sleeves, red lightning crackling around her hands.

"Not yet," Odom stayed her hands. "We have to add the finishing touches."

The contents of every jar in the room were dumped into one of the vats connected to the chamber through a series of tubes, including the jars containing the samples from Odom and Ashleigh. The biological material was quickly dissolved into a green liquid. Odom flipped a switch and Ashleigh watched in awe as the dissolved biomass was pumped through the tubes.

"I asked a few favors and got what's left of the research notes from Experiment One. There wasn't a lot. Zegana ordered most of it destroyed, but there were a few pages that survived. From there is was improvisation. I wasn't a huge part of it, but I did do some work on the tentacles. See?" Odom indicated a few serpentine appendages through the glass of the incubation chamber.

Ashleigh nodded. "So how long do we wait before I shock it?"

"Not long now. Give it about twenty-four hours."

"What can we do for the next twenty-four hours?"

"I have a few ideas." Odom smirked.

"Dammit you shot down my legionnaire!" Ashleigh crossed her arms and pouted at the red and white pieces on her game board. "We agreed, casual telepathy is against the rules."

"What? You totally read my mind to see where I had my corpsejack positioned." Odom looked to the side where the discarded black and green game piece lay on the floor next to him.

"Maelstrom is helping you cheat, isn't he?" Ashleigh stabbed an accusatory finger at the massive elemental towering above where they sat cross-legged on the floor. Maelstrom let out a low rumble of indignation.

"Shh, it's okay Maelstrom, she's just being salty." Odom patted one of the elemental's treelike limbs. "Okay. Do you at least admit I'm better at Guild Battle?"

"No. Because you picked the most overpowered guild ever. You can get your dead things back. We both need to play fair guilds."

"Ash, we've played every possible combination of guilds. I've won two-thirds of the time."

Before Ashleigh could retort, a chime went off in the other room.

"It's ready!" Odom jumped up, scattering the boards and game pieces. Ashleigh scrambled after him. They stood close together with their arms around each other, staring into the incubation chamber. The creature within was fully formed. Its protruding eyes remained closed. Its mouth vaguely resembled a beak and there were noticeable nubs on its back that would hopefully develop into wings. It sported fur on its back, a feathered crest, and scaly limbs. Its stomach, however, was completely see-through, exposing the complex organ systems it had taken Odom the last three years to perfect with other experiments sold to the Simic for materials. He'd been able to awake those prototypes with his own weak electromancy, but for this being he'd settle for none other than Ashleigh's.

"Now?" Ashleigh looked up at him eagerly.

"Now." He nodded, then made sure to take several large steps back so that he was directly behind Ashleigh. Odom had learned from experience that the Voidcaller had two modes of operating: eerily quiet or amazingly destructive. Behind her was honestly the safest place in the room.

Red lightning began to crackle and spark around her fingers and her hair stood on end. Electricity arced from her hands into the incubation chamber in a steady, erratic stream. Occasionally forks would split off and strike random objects around the room, blowing them up in a fountain of sparks.

"We're going to need more than that," Odom said.

"I don't think I can give any more," Ashleigh replied. Her breathing had become ragged. The sweat that had moments earlier just been small beads on her brow poured down the back of her neck in an icy river. Her knees began to shake. In her mind the voices shrieked and moaned. She had to shut them out or she couldn't concentrate on the spell. The lightning began to falter.

No. She would bring this creature to life. It would be the key to her designs. It would grant her the blissful peace of silence.

Ashleigh forced out one last burst of energy and collapsed into a heap on the floor. Odom held his breath, his eyes not on his friend but their creation. For a time, nothing happened. Then a single tentacle twitched. Slowly, the creature wiggled to life. A sharp cry pierced the lab's silence.

Odom saw a blur of red and blue. Ashleigh had stood and rushed to the incubation chamber. She picked up the creature within and cradled it like one would hold an infant. It looked up at her with impossibly large black eyes. Odom moved closer, looking over Ashleigh's shoulder at the abomination in her arms.

"It's perfect," Ashleigh said breathlessly.

Odom wasn't sold on that assessment yet. They would have to see what happened when it was released on a plane to fend for itself. The perfect creature would be capable of defeating all others, it would also learn to call Odom its master. "We'll have to see."

"Odom," Ashleigh said, "you don't understand. I can't hear them anymore."

He knew what she meant. Somehow, possibly due to the bits of eldrazi Odom had used in the creature's creation, this abomination's presence was able to cancel out the voices Ashleigh had heard ever since Maralen dismantled the Great Aurora on Lorwyn. This was an interesting development, but also incredibly dangerous. She'd likely do anything to keep possession of the creature. Odom couldn't easily take her in a fight, either. His duplication magic and her tendency of "borrowing" almost canceled each other out perfectly. They'd sit there at a stalemate, and that was no way for their creation to see its creators behaving.

As if she'd heard every thought, which wasn't impossible but just highly unlikely, Ashleigh said "It's my precious little baby."

All it took was for Odom to meet the creature's soulless black eyes to agree with that assessment. "Our precious little baby."

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 33

Keep Me Warm

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 10,625

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Chapter Tunes: Tainted Love ~ Holy Wars | Hatef--k ~ The Bravery

Summary: You're finding ways to cope, Shanks is finding ways to win, and the truth is finding its way out.

Recap: Emperor Shanks won the first hunt, and the first private date. The Cross Guild learned how you feel about about your red haired suitor, and the swordsman declared his plan to leave.

Author's Note: Hi friends! Just want to say that sharing this story with you means so much to me. I wish I had some Cross Guild backup in my life right now, but having y'all reading my obsession makes me so grateful! I'm trying to get back to interacting, I'm just having a hard time doing anything that's not writing this right now, but all of your words make me so happy, thank you!! 💜🙏🏼✨

Dark Content Warning: It's not the reader, but within this chapter there are references to suicide through engaging in dangerous and destructive behavior. The violent activities are mentioned within canon, but the emotional motivations are added. The situation ends well, but I'll bracket those sections with ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ in case that topic is triggering. Please, take care of yourselves, and know that you are not alone! 💜

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Toxic Family, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Pain Kink, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, Relationship Drama, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Uncle Cedrick Has Become His Own Warning, Splinters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

“That’s one creepy ass boat.”

“Excuse me?”

Mihawk couldn’t be annoyed with his clown when that observation had their much taller lover nearly buckling beside him. Those large fingers dug into his shoulder while Crocodile laughed at his expense, his voice even rougher than usual at the early hour.

“Hitsugibune is a fine ship, and has carried me across the Grand Line for years,” Mihawk countered. 

Crocodile took the luggage from his hands to toss onto the one-man vessel. 

“It does have a certain flare,” Crocodile hummed, leaving a quick kiss to his temple. 

“It’s just your aesthetic, though, right,” Buggy shook as he prowled closer. “It’s not a real coffin?”

“Not yet,” Mihawk teased. It earned him an adorable frown that made him laugh, and the movement reminded him of all the delightful things they’d done to him last night. 

“Sure you’re gonna be alright all cooped up in your coffin so soon,” Buggy taunted with a few prods and pokes along the swordsman’s healing chest. 

Moans left those cruel lips, and he tried to back away, but ran into a wall made of muscle and heat, and wrapped in a purple, velvet smoking jacket.

“Promise you’ll be a good boy for me?”

Mihawk almost buckled then, loving the satisfied noise Crocodile made when he reacted to him. The three lovers kissed goodbye, until he was alone again. 

The World’s Greatest Swordsman drifted alone on his one-man boat, and wondered how long it would take for Crocodile to realize that he hadn’t answered his question.

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~ 

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

“King of Diamonds,” Shanks beamed at her, mesmerized by her every move, and getting caught on the gentle sway of her locket while she laid out the trick for him again and again. 

It was Buggy’s trick. Buggy’s locket.

The Emperor of the Sea didn’t realize how much he‘d needed this. Seeing Y/N’s enduring love for their lovely clown gave him a burst of hope that clouded his mind, but he kept up the front.

Maybe playing the villain won’t be so bad.

“I’m afraid you missed this one, Shanks,” she breathed, eyes fluttering a bit as they darted back to her hands. Her movements had to be practiced in front of a crowd like this, but he found himself drawn into her orbit, yet again. 

“That’s alright,” he teased, snatching the card from her. He huffed a laugh as he dropped the Ace of Hearts before taking her hand in his. Y/N’s lips parted in a soft exhale, and he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from them.

“I always win when it counts.”

The sound of bells filled the air.

“Do I count,” she teased, pressing those lips into a subtle, biteable pout for him. 

Hope and greed brought his lips to her skin, just a press against her wrist while he fought the urge to throw her over his shoulder and run. 

“I think she likes you, Chief.”

“What can I say,” Shanks smirked as he plopped down beside his first mate. Y/N’s eyes were following him so clearly on the huge screen that he didn’t need to glance back to check. “I think I might just win this little game.”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

“I hear you’re the best there is!”

“That’s correct,” Dracule Mihawk deadpanned. He was only twenty-two years old, but the brightness shining off of the boy that had invaded his corner table made him feel aged and weary. 

Shanks didn’t think his eyes could get any wider. This dangerous, infamous man was so… pretty!

“Run along now.”

“No way,” Shanks laughed, leaning over the table. He froze for a moment under the glare of the strangest eyes he’d ever seen. “Come on, Hawk Eyes, I’m challenging you to a duel!”

The Marine Hunter didn’t spare him another glance, just returned to his book as though Shanks didn’t exist. 

“Come ooon, I bet you’re bored on this little island. I’m only here so my sniper can visit his wife, and they’re not open for company right now. Plus, my first mate already left me for the barmaid so I’m...”

Rambling. Why am I rambling?

Shanks didn't know why he couldn’t let it go, but he had to try. The young captain saw the chance to test himself sitting before him with a beautifully bored look on his face. 

“I wanna fight you.”

“I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for slaughtering children today.”

“I’m eighteen, and my sword is ready, so let’s—“

“Let me see your sword,” Mihawk ordered. He had to stifle a smirk when the redhead obeyed him instantly. 

The saber was longer than was typical for that type, with an extended, green hilt that showed a subtle, but elegant artistry in its craftsmanship. Mihawk was tracing his fingers around the pommel before he remembered that he should have killed the idiot for handing his blade to an enemy. 

“Where did you get this,” he asked instead of stabbing the rookie, letting the young man take the exquisite weapon back. 

“Oh, uh…” Shanks’ cheeks almost matched his hair while he decided what to say. The image of this man laughing him off made sharing the full truth unappealing. “I’ve always had it. My mentor taught me how to use it. So, will you fight me?”

“You’ve piqued my interest. That’s often a fatal mistake, so if you choose to walk away now, I’ll let you go.”

“No one gets away from Red Haired Shanks that easily,” he winked, holding out his hand. 

Mihawk offered his own, and Shanks grinned as they clasped each other’s forearms for a moment. 

“I like your jacket.”

The swordsman narrowed his eyes at the compliment, but followed the young captain out of the tavern, and into the lightly wooded area outside of town. 

He could have sworn he’d seen that ugly, straw hat somewhere before.

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

You weren’t supposed to think about him. 

How could you hold up that perfect, doll face in front of all the leeches if they smelled any hint of weakness?

How could you keep yourself from crying when you remembered Buggy’s laugh that made you laugh, his touch that made you his, or his pain that broke your heart? 

Yet you kept surrounding yourself with every tiny piece you had left, a masochistic challenge to spice up this auction for your life. 

And here was the man that had hurt Buggy. The asshole that had left him wounded for decades. You had to convince him to apologize to the man he claimed to love, only for the traitor to abandon him when he needed him most. 

I hope they take care of him…

You didn’t have room for too much hope. Not when you could end up trapped with this viper, especially if Uncle caught a whiff of your disdain. 

He’s staring at my lips like he did that first day. Like I’m just something sweet for him to taste. 

“I always win when it counts.”

The sound of the ending bells felt like applause, and another smiling face filled your mind. Blood had dripped onto that stage like scattered petals, all for you. 

Pouting for the Emperor gave you a thrill of pride over how easy it was to make his eyes flash with heat. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist, and you didn’t have to fake the shivers it caused. 

The red headed pirate sauntered off, but your eyes were drawn to him again and again. 

The prey had its own target now. 

I’d rather die than marry that traitor, but if he traps me…

I’ll fucking kill him.

I’ll kill him for you, Buggy.

 ~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🗡️⏰~~~

“Holy shit,” Shanks panted as he narrowly avoided being cleaved in two by that tiny fucking dagger.

“Ha, already lost your confidence, boy?”

Mihawk hadn’t lied. He hadn’t planned on killing anyone on this boring, little island, but fresh blood on his blade had him losing himself. He’d had a few moments of hope for a real challenge, but the building disappointment was about to quicken his opponent’s death.

“Nope! Just– fuck!”

The red haired youth dodged too late, collapsing to the dirt. He clutched at his side, hardly doing a thing to staunch the blood that was slowly staining the forest floor. 

I can’t die yet. He didn’t even draw his sword… 

“You’re the strongest fighter I’ve met in awhile, yet you’re still such a pitiful creature,” Mihawk scowled, kicking the saber from the rookie’s weak grasp. “And here, I was almost having fun. What a waste of time…”

“W-wait, Hawk Eyes,” Shanks coughed, spreading more blood around. “You’re bored, aren’t you? You like fighting?”

“People can be so perceptive in their final moments,” he drawled. Mihawk brought Kogatana to the boy’s throat, the small blade poised to cease his blubbering.

“You said you almost had f-fun,” Shanks bargained, his eyes wider than ever while beautiful death loomed over him. “I'll make you a deal, alright?”

Golden eyes seemed to sharpen, just as the blade pressed into his neck a bit more.

“Don’t waste any more of my time,” came his vicious, yet waiting voice. 

“I won’t,” Shanks panicked, smiling under that cold glare. “It's too early for me to die, friend. There's so much for me to learn. I promise that if you give me a chance, I'll get stronger! Let me live, and I'll get strong enough to give you a real fun fight, I swear!”

One of the longest moments Shanks had ever experienced dragged on, while the unreadable swordsman above him hardly moved at all, until his head cocked to the side.

“Intriguing,” Mihawk frowned, still holding steel against that young throat. “I suppose I can hold off on killing you for now.”

“You can– ow!”

Mihawk removed the blade that Shanks had leaned into in excitement, and rolled his eyes with instant regret. 

“Don’t challenge me again until you’re ready. I’ll kill you slowly for making me wait.”

“No problem,” Shanks waved to the man’s back. Dracule Mihawk had already left him bleeding in the dirt. “I’ll get you back, Hawk Eyes.”

~~~⏰🔴🗡️⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

It felt so quiet with just the two of them, even with all the hustle and bustle of the guild getting to work.

He’s like a big, scary teddy bear.

“You alright little clown,” Crocodile soothed, rubbing softly between Buggy’s shoulder blades while he had a coughing fit. 

The clown gave a thumbs up, grateful that he hadn’t spoken the thought out loud. 

Mihawk had been gone for hours, and the afternoon was aging fast, but neither of the men on the couch had cared about dressing for the day. That soft smoking jacket made Crocodile’s warm body almost too soothing to lean against, especially while the clown listened to his star do their card trick again and again.

When the coughing stopped, Crocodile’s large hand pulled gently, guiding the clown back into that comfortable position. 

Buggy didn’t fight it. He knew he might be an idiot for getting used to this strange reality where Sir Crocodile cuddled with him, but he needed it right now.

Maybe he needs it too.

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

I’ll skin him. Boil him alive. 

“You look amazing,” Kat muttered, avoiding your death-filled gaze in the mirror. 

“Tell me,” you growled at the nearest staff, “why the fuck do I need to wear a swimsuit on a first date?”

They’d given you a variety of options, all of which were as red as that stupid hair. You’d chosen the one that came with a tiny bit of cloth to wrap around your hips, so you could at least pretend you were wearing some fucking clothes. 

“I’m so sorry you weren’t given more notice, Miss Sylvad,” she hurried, her empty words already draining your resolve. 

It’s not their fault. It’s his. 

“As you know, the hun– suitors, excuse me,” she coughed nervously, and you saw Kat’s eyes widen over her shoulder while you shoved down the manic laughter in your gut. “The suitors get to choose the themes of the first dates, and the Emperor stated that he enjoys long walks on the beach, so–”

“I can walk fine without–”

“There’s my lovely nieces,” Cedrick beamed, nearly hitting one of the staff with the door when he barged in. “Everyone out, even you, sweetheart.”

Kat stepped back from his touch on her shoulder, but you told her it was fine before her fruitless argument could leave her lips. 

He was going to get what he wanted, so she might as well save the energy, though she scowled at him all the way out the door.

“Nice pick,” he taunted, gesturing at your swimsuit. “I preferred the little, frilly one, but I’m sure the pirate can tear into this one just fine, even one handed.”

Nothing. Give him nothing.

“Did you have something to tell me, Uncle? I have a date to prepare for.”

“Atta girl,” your uncle laughed, lounging in the nearest chair. “Just wanted to check in on who your favorites are.”

“It’s too early to tell,” you reported, fighting to keep your voice even. 

“Well, be sure to keep me posted,” he ordered with a smirk. “Unfortunately there’s already one name that needs to be crossed off the list. I want him to have his little date though, and we should send someone else home before him. The last thing the family needs are accusations of racism if we boot the only Fishman first. Inclusivity bullshit is always a fucking headache.”

“Why…” 

Fukaboshi was overwhelming. He was two stories tall, and you couldn’t imagine leaving your whole world behind, or how any of that would even work.

Yet, he’d seemed truly kind. The prince had almost put himself, and his people, in danger with his earnest questions about your captivity. 

He’d come to this land of leeches looking for allies, but only cruelty lived here. Only gluttonous, selfish, hateful—

“Who would you like to send home first,” Uncle Cedrick asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’ll be rigging tomorrow's game so the Fishman should win the next date, then we can send him off with no worries. So who’s your least favorite?”

“I really don’t know, Uncle. I haven’t spent enough time with them to be sure.”

A little movement around his eyes, a little smirk. You weren’t going to fall for it. 

“Let’s remedy that, dear niece,” he declared as he moved toward you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He turned you toward the mirror, and his reflection was frightening. 

He was gleeful.

“I have put quite a bit of berry on your red haired date becoming the next King of the Pirates. Make sure you treat him like royalty tonight.” He left you there to wince while he called over his shoulder. “I know how much you enjoyed whoring for those pirates, Y/N. Now you could be their little whore queen!”

~~~

You were carted around like royalty in your uncle’s obnoxious carriage, already feeling the cool, gentle breeze through the wood paneling as you neared one of the only sandy beaches on the small island. The rest of the coastlines were rimmed with craggy cliffs at the edge of forests, and perching on those rocks was your preferred way to enjoy the ocean. 

Not shivering in a swimsuit at dusk, with sand already creeping up your legs.

“Wow, you look…”

All the staff scurried to the little trailers nearby, leaving you face to face with him while he scanned over your mostly bare skin. 

Shanks looked right at home on the beach. 

He’d managed to find a dark green version of his hardly-buttoned shirts that looked unfairly good against his skin, but his loose fitting pants were still covered in a headache inducing pattern. They were gathered below the knees, presumably to make his long walks on the beach in those lame sandals that much easier. 

And his cape. How could you forget the cape? 

He was still gawking at you while you tried not to fume at how fucking stunning he looked in his stupid clothes. 

“Why are you dressed like this?”

“You don’t like it, Emperor,” you pouted, playing pretend with a wobble of hurt in your voice. “I heard you wanted a beach date.”

“I like it very much,” he purred, bringing a gasp to your lips when he was suddenly inches from you. He trailed his fingers down your neck and chest, following the chain of your locket until he smiled. “I just don’t want my little bunny getting cold tonight.”

Shivering under the weight of his warm cape, you thanked the charming villain while he led you to a little table by the fire. Staff rushed up to serve you, but Shanks snagged the open bottle, and waved them off while you tried not to let your mouth water at the platter of hors d’oeuvres between you. 

He poured the sake, but said nothing while you toasted. Just stared at you, his little half-smile growing deeper when you accepted a bite of food from his hand.

At least you didn’t have to worry about your food with Shanks tasting everything along with you. No one would dare spike the Emperor’s drink.

I might. If I have to.

You faded in and out of daydreaming his murder, and nearly forgetting. 

Shanks was the perfect predator, luring in his prey with such playful joy and power. He was pure light, drawing in the moths until they burned to a crisp in his cruel, selfish flames. 

You knew this, yet there were moments when he made you truly laugh, and you clutched at your locket, silently vowing again and again that you would destroy this man. 

If he didn’t kill you while you made him pay, then his crew surely would. It was a last resort. 

You didn’t want to die, and it felt nice knowing that.

Yet if the only options you had left were being owned by this monster, or dying while you took him down, then you’d get him drunk and happy on your honeymoon, and gut him like a pig. 

Until then though…

“You feeling alright, gorgeous,” your prey checked in, guiding you to a trailer to wash up. The staff disappeared again, scattering like cockroaches, but the illusion of privacy never fooled you. 

“I feel good.” Your hum made his eyes glint for you, and he pulled you down the shore, away from the staff, and their snail-covered equipment. 

“Wanna dip your toes in,” Shanks ginned, wrapping his arm around your waist. It felt like he wouldn’t give you a choice either way. His strong fingers curled around your hip, teasing along the edge of your swimsuit, and your body ached when you remembered what they could do to you. 

You wanted to forget for a while. You wanted to pretend. 

Might as well enjoy myself before I kill him. 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

He’d almost forgotten where they were. 

It doesn’t matter. I’ve got her, Buggy. Your shining star.

When she laughed, the Emperor of the Sea forgot everything. 

It was a perfect sound, a beautiful movement of her body, her head thrown back just a bit, as though he’d shocked the laughter out of her. 

She didn’t look like a wounded star tonight. There was fire beneath all of her flirting, and he had to feel it.

Greed crept back into his heart the longer he spent by her side, and he couldn’t help but reach for her, pulling her toward the gentle sea. 

He wanted her. He wanted all of them. 

Shanks wanted everything, and that sweet, little pout of hers seemed to promise it. 

“It’s too cold,” Y/N shivered, avoiding the soft waves that lapped along the shore.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

She snorted, clamping a hand over her lips when he cocked a brow at her. His lovely date dipped her toes in, then took off up the beach, her laughter filling every bit of his mind until he joined in, chasing after her.

“How are you going to— oh,” she panted, gasping when she turned to find him so close. 

“Bunny,” he laughed as she tripped on his cloak trying to run backwards. He caught her just in time to fall with her, bracing with his elbow to keep his full weight from pressing her beneath him.

Shanks forgot. 

That shining star was still gasping as she laid on his cloak, a perfect blanket spread out to watch the night sky she must have fallen from. The soft tint of the night made her skin seem unreal, intoxicating. 

He had to touch her.

She touched him first.

Y/N’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, fingers curling into his hair when she pulled him in for a kiss. He couldn’t hold in a low growl that grew when she drank it hungrily from his lips. 

Nothing else existed when she pulled him closer, tugging at his shirt to tease her nails along his back. She moaned so sweetly around his tongue when he grinded himself against her, barely any cloth to keep them apart. 

He almost forgot.

“Mmm… Hey, bunny,” Shanks purred, his eyes heavy lidded to match the lovely ones beneath him. “Are you sure—“

“Aren’t you going to keep me warm?”

Y/N was pouting, teasing, begging, her fingers still trailing over his skin.

Everything about her was giving heat. 

Everything was perfect. 

Everything except for a flash in her eyes that plunged Shanks’ heart into the icy depths of the ocean at his back. 

“Is something wrong,” beautiful death asked softly, her mask so exquisitely crafted. 

“No, not at all,” Shanks cleared his throat, pushing himself away. “I just… It would be a shame to have my first time with such a beauty in front of an audience.” 

The sound of bells saved him.

She tilted her head back, sighing when she saw the vehicles approaching. 

“Bunny, I—“

“Thank you for the lovely date, Emperor. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He helped her up, brushing the sand from her skin while he tried to figure out what to say. 

He didn’t think fast enough, and soon the staff had swarmed her, wrapping her in a fluffy robe before whisking her away.

The red haired pirate declined a ride back to the estate, waving the people, and their watching snails away. 

It was a long walk. 

There would never be enough distance for Shanks to cross to get away from the sickness that had seeped into his bones, into his every organ. 

Y/N’s empty eyes had branded guilt onto his heart before, and he couldn’t stand his arrogance. He thought he’d already made it all better, that his greedy heart was going to take everything it wanted. 

I wanted to own her, just like the leeches.

Tonight, Y/N’s eyes hadn’t been empty, but she was so good at hiding.

Or I just saw what I wanted to see. Until she…

What Shanks had seen in that flash, in that glimpse beneath her mask, was evil. It was frightening, sick, manic.

It was hate. 

I did that. I filled that lovely girl’s heart with hatred. 

The walk wasn’t long enough to shake off his self loathing, but Shanks knew what he needed if he was going to make things right. 

He needed one more chance. 

One more private date. 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Look, I’ll taste it,” your mother sighed before taking a drink from the steaming mug she kept brandishing at you. “Now please, drink it, sweetie. You look…”

“I look like death,” you drawled, wishing the coffee would cool down so you could chug it. 

“Not at all, Miss Sylvad, you just need some brightening up! We’ll take good care of you,” chirped your mom’s favorite makeup artist. You couldn’t remember his name this early in the morning, but you were fighting not to throw the hot coffee at him so he’d stop being so fucking cheerful. 

You hadn’t been able to fall asleep last night. 

The scent of him had lingered around you, even after you’d tried to scrub him off of you in the shower. 

The whole night had replayed in your mind, making you dizzy with guilt over every moment when you relaxed, when you forgot.

Then it would cycle through again, rage building until you chewed your tongue to keep from snarling to the empty air around you. 

But your body…

Frustration nearly clawed itself out of you, and you’d had to hold your breath to fight the screams and tears it would have left in its wake. You’d been so fucking close to having something to turn your brain off for a minute, even if it was him.

All of your attempts to take care of that need on your own left you defeated, your guilty hunger twisting every image you tried to cling to.

You couldn’t imagine his fingers without picturing the gloved ones you missed so much. 

Couldn’t picture Shanks fucking you without remembering him making love to Buggy. You were trapped in silence on the edge of that bed again, but there was no one to rescue you this time. 

Last night, you’d fallen apart. It had to be it. You couldn’t afford these emotions. 

You’d bitten your pillow to stifle the wracking sobs while your mind tore you down, forcing you to mourn more than just Buggy. 

It felt like you were choking on their names, all the men you’d left behind. 

If loneliness alone could kill, you would have died there in that luxurious bed, aching to be smothered in the heat of bodies you’d never feel again.

Shanks was torturing you. His very presence was a reminder of the daydream you had fooled yourself into thinking you could keep. 

“Are you alright, Miss Sylvad?”

“What? Oh, I’m… I’m fine.”

The sound of tears in your voice was enough to drag you back. 

You let yourself fall away. 

Empty.

Empty’s good.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

Benn literally kicked his ass out of bed this morning, ripping the expensive bedding off of his captain while he scolded him out of the dream world. 

“Quit complaining,” his first mate commanded him, rolling his eyes at the pathetic groans. “You’ve got a beautiful girl to win, Chief. You can sleep when she’s yours.”

Shanks’ morning mind was still soaked in last night's attempt to drown it in sake, so he couldn’t tell if he’d thanked or cussed out the older man for his help. Regardless, the red haired pirate was dressed for breakfast, luckily remembering his appointment.

After the first dates, the suitors got to have breakfast with the Sylvads. 

Maybe I’ll get a moment alone with her.

“There’s our favorite Emperor,” Cedrick called through the door, gesturing for Shanks to join them. “Make yourself at home!”

“Home” was strangely sterile, more of a conference room than a dining area. Cedrick sat at the head of the table, offering the empty seat beside him, opposite Y/N, and her practiced smile. 

I can do this. I can convince her I’m on her side.

I have to.

“I thought this was gonna be a family breakfast. You’ve got a little sister out there, don’t you, gorgeous?”

“I—“

“Don’t worry, Shanks,” Cedrick waved off the question. “There will be plenty of time for family get-togethers. Since you joined our game at the last minute, I figured we should have a little business talk before you get back to all the pleasure.”

Shanks almost shoved his fork through the man’s throat. 

The taunting glance he’d given his niece at the last word tested Shanks’ self control, and he couldn’t believe how calm she seemed. 

“Of course. I understand it’s not just love we’re fighting for.”

“Not love. Family,” Cedrick vowed. He emphasized his words with a firm grip on Shanks’ shoulder, and the pirate had to hold his breath to keep from shaking him off.

How does she do this all day?

“Whoever marries my dear niece will be family, and Sylvads take care of their own. I know there’s a lot we could do for each other.”

“It’s an honor to be considered,” Shanks toasted them both, aching to see anything real behind her polite mask. 

“You know, Shanks, it’s a real shame you went to the wrong brother all those years ago,” Cedrick mused, shifting his tone just enough to suck all the air from the room. “You might have been King of the Pirates by now if you’d asked me instead.”

“What do you mean?”

Shanks mumbled those loathsome words while the ground disappeared beneath him. The question in her eyes sparked his panic, but it was too late. 

“Please, Arbo loved to brag about drinking with Roger’s apprentice. I could never understand how he let a little girl spook him out of the deal of a lifetime.”

“What are you talking about?”

Her eyes were wide when she asked, but Y/N wasn’t looking at either of them. She was slipping further and further away with every word her uncle spewed, and Shanks had no idea how to stop it. 

“You know the family stories, niece, and you’re smart enough to figure out which ones are true,” he chided. 

Cedrick would have lost his hand when he tapped the tip of her nose, but Shanks was frozen. 

“Your daddy turned down the chance to help the Pirate King’s apprentice build the next ship to conquer the Grand Line. Arbo could have made history, but he decided not to because his ‘widdle numbers girl’ cried about some gods damned tree.”

…

“Wha-what?”

She was so good at hiding, so it felt like his soul cracked when her voice did. Horror and shame filled the Emperor of the Sea when a daughter’s grief shone in those beautiful eyes. 

“It had to be fifteen, nearly twenty years ago now, wasn’t it?”

He sounded fucking jolly while he ripped both of their hearts out. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Shanks coughed, caving when the man gripped his shoulder a bit harder. 

“Well, I don’t have the same qualms as my dear brother, so I might be willing to butcher an Adam Tree. Only for family, of course.”

Unshed tears were balanced in her eyes, and she seemed to be turning herself into a statue before she’d let them fall. 

There had been time to tell her. Shanks’ mind flew through a list of excuses for why he hadn’t, why it wasn’t a good time, how she’d been going through too much to tell her a story about her dead father. Yet this whirlwind of a woman had cleared away his old disguises, so he could no longer believe his own lies. 

I didn’t even think about telling her. All I cared about was getting what I wanted.

I’m no hero.

“I was wondering if that’s why you joined the game,” Cedrick smirked. He squeezed Shanks’ shoulder one last time before releasing him, but the relief was lost when the next words spilled from that evil mouth. 

Shanks watched every bit of movement on her face now. He watched his selfishness curdle around her, poisoning any slim chance he still had to gain her trust. 

“All the players are going for the One Piece, so Red Haired Shanks is back to get his miracle ship,” Cedrick taunted, his eyes glued on his niece. “And now he can finally teach the little brat that cost him his boat a lesson. I wonder if my sentimental brother would have chopped down that tree if he knew his favorite daughter would have to spread her—“

“What about you?”

“Excuse me,” Cedrick turned toward the growl, his brows raised a bit. 

He’s not nearly fucking scared enough.

Shanks paused too long, but the second the asshole started to tilt back toward her, the pirate started talking. He had no idea what to say, but he knew he had to keep that piece of shit from looking at her again. 

“Families help each other out,” Shanks flirted, feeling like he was swallowing venom with every moment he smiled at this monster. “So, what about you? How could I help out my new family, if I were so lucky?”

“I have a few ideas,” Cedrick purred as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes were relaxed, and slow while they scanned over him, as though he had all the time in the world to make an Emperor of the Sea wait on his every word. “I think that’s enough business for today, though. Let’s get back to pleasure.”

Cedrick Sylvad forced them to toast at that, and Shanks couldn’t understand how his niece had kept all of those tears from falling. Y/N’s cheeks were dry, and she smiled at him when their glasses touched. It was a perfect smile, welcoming, alluring, and sweet. 

It was a death trap. 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

Every time Shanks walked into a tavern, he knew he might meet his death. Would it be with his weight in alcohol, or with the slim hope for a golden eyed grim reaper tucked into a corner booth?

Shanks had gotten stronger before, but since a few stupid words had taken all the joy from his life last year, he couldn’t focus on anything else.

Beautiful death sounded pretty good, but all he kept finding was booze. 

Until tonight.

“Hey, Hawk Eyes.”

“Hmm? Here to interrupt my lunch,” Mihawk noted, boredom radiating from him. “How delightful.”

The new Warlord of the Sea could feel the difference in power in his former opponent. He could see the muscles born of years of holding a sword in the redhead’s forearms while he carried two heaping mugs, invading his table again after four years. 

Mihawk could see the dim light of this sticky tavern glinting off of that lovely sword.

“I prefer wine,” he drawled, returning his gaze to his book while he tried to catch the man’s heartbeat over the noise. He’d have to get closer for that, but it was an unnecessary risk.

That sword deserved a true fight. 

“More for me then,” Shanks shrugged, gulping down one of the beers while his enemy sighed.

“If you’re not serious about challenging me, then kindly leave me to my reading.”

Shanks reached for the hand that held the book, but it withdrew so fast, danger in those golden eyes now as they narrowed on him. 

“There’s the monster I remember," Shanks raised his mug, drinking in the sight before him. 

Dracule Mihawk pulled his feet down from the table, and set his book aside, never taking his eyes off the pirate. Adjusting his jacket looked like an instinctual habit, the maroon fabric and floral patterns seeming out of place on a killer’s skin. 

“Do you shave your sideburns all pointy like that, or–”

“Are you suicidal, rookie?”

“What do you care,” Shanks scoffed. He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to. “You’ve been looking forward to killing me, haven’t you? And I don’t see any blood on that big sword of yours, so you must be bored here.”

Mihawk wanted to stay bored, but this pretty pirate, and his ugly hat were getting on his nerves. 

“I’m sure one of the local drunkards could grant your death wish in a back alley brawl. I don’t need to dirty my blade on weak blood like yours.”

Oh, but he wanted to. 

And the red haired captain could see it. Just the slightest curve of those cruel lips, a faint intake of breath when he stretched his arms above his head, that dangerous gaze caught on every mark of training on his body. 

Shanks was fucking high on it, and he wasn’t going to let it end so soon.

“I’m here to challenge you, Hawk Eye Mihawk,” he smirked, finally free of thoughts as thrills shot through him. “I’m here to end you.” 

“You’re here to try.”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

It’s okay. You’re okay.

Soothing words were bad.

Not real. It’s all pretend. 

Uncle Cedrick was talking again, lording over the lunch that had been laid out along the beach today. 

The beach where you’d begged him to touch you last night. 

Not real. 

Nothing matters. 

Fake is fine.

Not real. Can’t feel. 

“Come now, niece, don’t keep the hunters waiting!”

He handed you bit of cloth, and you had no idea what the fuck to do with it. Reality reformed around you, and you found your suitors lined up on the sand, watching your every movement. 

You held up the flag and dropped it down, grateful that you’d guessed right when most of the men started running toward the waves. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” came a deep, deep voice that almost pulled you free. 

“Hi, uh… Hello, Katakuri,” you shook beneath his gaze.

Oh yeah. Maybe this gentle giant will crush me to death tonight. That might make things easier.

“I was hoping that since it’s our night tonight, I might be able to sit with you today?”

“There’s no rule against it,” your uncle shrugged, snagging his drink to raise it toward the crimson haired man above. “Don’t ignore your other suitors though, niece. They’re putting in a lot of work to win you today.”

The portable screen that had been set up between some of the larger vehicles caught your eye. It showed Giberson lounging with a cocktail, sticking his pasty toes in the sand while he waved at the younger men running past.

Thankfully, the cam snails shifted their focus to your other suitors, their powerful bodies gleaming while most of them tore their shirts off before diving into the waves.

It was hard to enjoy the view with that glaring, red hair always hogging the screen. 

I bet he’s a fan favorite, that fucking—“

“Do you like sweets, Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked, head twisting to meet those stunning eyes. 

“I’ve noticed that you don’t seem to like the food they’ve been serving here, and since I was hoping to make something with you during our date tonight, I want to be sure you’ll enjoy it.”

Katakuri was shielding his eyes from the sun to look down at you, and you felt a stupid bit of guilt for ignoring this seemingly sweet man that came here to own you. 

“I love sweets, I’ve just been so nervous,” came another lie that was true. “It’s hard to eat when I’m nervous, but if you promise to share with me, then I can’t wait to—”

“Well, Emperor, that’s not quite what we were looking for,” Uncle Cedrick teased as he followed Shanks back to your table. 

“I found what I was looking for,” he rasped, going to a knee beside you. Your image on the screen held you prisoner, just as he planned to do.

Shanks’ title had never suited him so well. The Emperor of the Sea was drenched, his red hair gone dark, clinging to his face and neck. Drops of the ocean fell from the ends to pour down his body in hypnotizing lines. His chest was almost always bare, but the way his skin glowed under all that salt and sun turned his body into a work of art, something to gaze upon and enjoy, and you fucking hated him for it. 

Monsters should look as ugly as their souls. 

“I realized I didn’t bring you a gift last night, and I had to make it right.”

You heard the sand shifting as Katakuri moved closer, but Shanks held your gaze. 

Those soft, brown eyes held nothing but lies. 

“A beautiful shell for a beautiful girl,” he breathed, wincing slightly when your uncle joked for the crowd, lamenting how “lovey dovey” things might get if all the hunters tried to spoil you. 

You had to accept his gift.

It was a large conch shell, and it was beautiful, with spirals and spikes laid out in gentle colors. 

“Listen to it, Y/N. Can you hear the ocean?”

“I… Yeah, I can,” you nodded, holding the shell up to your ear. Distant music filled your mind, and you shoved the memories down. Luckily, a trail of dripping suitors was headed toward you, and you were grateful for any excuse to stop looking at him. 

You were so fucking close to smashing that spiky shell into his face.

“The deep, blue sea loves its creatures so much that it sends its ears along with them.”

“Uh, thank you? I–“

“And the winner of today’s hunt is Prince Fukaboshi!”

Shanks had no choice but to move when Uncle Cedrick grabbed your elbow to guide you to another small stage, riding it into the air beside you. 

The merman prince looked like the God of the Sea. 

His spotted tail made giant patterns in the sand as he floated toward you, shaking out his light blue hair before you came close to his glinting smile. His teeth.

Shark. He’s like a shark.

“For you, Miss Sylvad. I hope that whatever this treasure is brings you as much pleasure as your company brings me.”

So very carefully, Fukaboshi’s massive fingers placed an ornate wooden chest on the platform in front of you, and a look from your uncle sent you to your knees to open it up.

Salt water and seaweed poured out, sending chills over your skin before you reached inside. The treasure was hard to identify in the soggy container, but soon you held it up for everyone to see. 

Everyone could see you while you stared at the intricate ship in a bottle, your dad’s signature redwood still painted on one of the sails. 

“Thank you for finding this for me, Prince Fukaboshi,” you praised, teetering on the edge of tears again. “I… I haven’t seen it in a long time.”

You hadn’t seen one of his little ships since you’d smashed a few of them to pieces ten years ago. The rest had been hidden away before the spoiled heiress could destroy them all during another tantrum. 

More of dad’s perfect creations that he’d lovingly stuffed into a pretty cage.

The world swerved, and by some miracle, your shaky hands placed the bottle back into the chest, closing the lid with a soft thud.

“Are you feeling well, niece,” Unce Cedrick crooned as he laid his hand on your back, painting the picture of a loving family.

“Yes, uncle, thank you,” came your soft, gracious voice. Your Sylvad smile was the only armor you had against the onslaught of eyes.

“I feel perfect.” 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

It was the perfect fight. The perfect dance.

“Where was this fire back then, Red Hair? This rage?”

“You trying to distract me, Hawk Eyes?”

Shanks pressed all of his weight against that powerful blade, their swords scraping against each other like deadly instruments. Mihawk had that huge weapon tilted down for an attack he couldn’t finish, and the younger pirate laughed as he caged him in against a tree. 

“There’s no need,” Mihawk growled, his body singing with the first true challenge he’d faced in years. “You’re still an overconfident, little boy.”

“Well, this— gods damn it, really,” Shanks groaned, unable to rub the pain off of his face with all of his strength holding his sword against the other. “Aren’t you a fucking swordsman? Head butts don’t seem that honorable.”

“A true fighter knows when to be flexible,” Mihawk taunted, finally slipping from Shanks’ hold. 

Perfect. 

Any of his previous opponents would have been sliced in half by his quick recovery, Yoru gliding through the air like a bird of prey.

Yet this man parried the attack with hardly a second to shift after Mihawk’s escape. 

And he was smiling. 

“I told you we’d be having fun.”

“That’s what you’ve been training for all this time, Red Hair? You’re willing to die for a bit of fun?”

“Aren’t you?”

Their taunts grew breathier as the clash of blades went on, but soon they both carried feral grins, laughing at every near miss. They didn’t notice all the trees they knocked down, or the creatures of the forest that fled into the golden glow of the coming sunset.

This perfect dance had lasted for hours, but it could have been seconds or days to them. 

The dancers lost themselves in the sounds of bodies and blades, in the strength and will of their beautiful enemy, and in the sweat, blood, and dirt that only made them seem more like beasts, hungry for more. 

Until the end. 

“Do it.”

Mihawk couldn’t believe it. 

He’d slipped. Hours and hours of sweat and blood dripping through his fingers made him slip just enough for his enemy to slip through.

I should have wrapped the handle better. 

The swordsman huffed a laugh at his own arrogance. He hadn’t had to worry about sweating through that fabric in years. 

“Laughing in the face of death, huh,” Shanks asked, holding Gryphon to the Warlord’s throat. He’d pinned the man down, his weight pressing his enemy into the rough ground. 

“I’m waiting for death, Red Hair,” he sneered, stretching his neck to give the man a clearer target. “Get on with it.”

“Now why would I wanna do that,” Shanks rasped. The chaos in those pretty eyes was hypnotizing. 

Shame and fury almost broke the man loose, but all he could do was seethe while blood started to trickle down his throat from his movements. 

“If you don’t finish this I’ll—“

“Make a deal with me,” Shanks purred, leaning close to breathe his bargain over those snarling lips. “I want you to live, and get stronger, so we can have even more fun next time.”

“If you don’t end this now, I will kill you sl—“

“Slowly, right? Sounds like fun to me.”

He freed the monster, collapsing onto the ground beside him to laugh, and wince with the pain of their dance.

This feels good.

“Tomorrow. You die tomorrow, Red Hair.”

The Warlord felt pathetic spitting the threat from his back, but he tilted his head to find that shiny, bloody smile again. 

“Tomorrow it is,” Shanks agreed, before diving into even more dangerous distractions. “What about tonight, Hawk Eyes? You got any plans?”

“You are truly magnificent, you suicidal fool,” Mihawk laughed, a lovely sound from those cruel lips. The redhead wouldn’t stop beaming at him, and something in him snapped. 

Mihawk couldn’t stop laughing, even through the soreness, even when his ridiculous enemy joined in. 

“What do you say, swordsman, wanna go grab a beer?”

“I prefer wine.”

“Whatever you want, loser—mmnf.”

“I will kill you tomorrow,” Mihawk sneered, rolling to hold Kogatana to that pretty throat.

“Let’s go celebrate your victory then,” Shanks winked, his jaw shifting in playful challenge. “Do you prefer red or— It’s red, isn’t it?”

“So perceptive in your final moments,” Mihawk drawled after too long a pause, but he helped his enemy off the ground. 

He walked beside the man that could have killed him. That should have killed him. 

This isn’t safe. 

Mihawk tried to listen to his instincts, every muscle in his body screaming for him to take down the smiling threat at his side. 

Yet all he could do was follow that red, unable to look at anything else. 

~~~

“What are you doing,” Mihawk growled, shrugging off Shanks’ touch when they entered the tavern.

“Don’t you wanna clean your pretty clothes first,” he teased, before nodding his head toward the hallway he’d tried to pull his enemy down. “My room’s this way, and it’s got a nice bathroom we can use. We look pretty fucked up, Hawk Eyes.”

Shanks leaned in again, his lip scraping through his teeth just a bit. Just enough.

Fuck being safe. 

“Getting cleaned up is going to take awhile,” Mihawk gave in, returning that heated stare. “How many bottles can you carry?”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

Shanks had finally figured it out, but the weight of nausea wouldn’t leave. Buggy knew she’d wanted him, he knew that breathing, but listening to Shanks touch her when he didn’t know how she felt was… 

“You need to get some sleep, little clown. Do you… Did you wanna sleep somewhere else?”

Crocodile tried to sound light, as though he’d be fine with an empty bed knowing that his clown would be whimpering in his sleep like he had every night since she left. There was a growing awkwardness in the air since that private date started, and he didn’t know how to quash it, or if he had any right to.

“No, I don't,” Buggy admitted. That scarred face seemed so careful, as though the man were holding still so he wouldn’t spook him. With a sigh, Buggy knew it was probably true. He let himself be swallowed by that comfortable, deadly warmth again. 

Holding him close, Crocodile fell through his own mind.

At some point, he had lost sight of his goals. The greed of how to reach them made him lose the vision, and ultimately lose it all. How many other things should he have protected instead of destroyed? How could he ever balance the scales with those he wanted to keep?

“Hey, boss,” Buggy cleared his throat, lips twitching nervously when he turned to look at that frightening face, unreadable as stone. The tension in his body was pretty readable though, and it didn’t seem like either of them would be falling asleep anytime soon.

“I know it’s late, but do you, uh… wanna call him?”

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

They set their swords down. 

Mihawk had almost walked away, but Shanks tossed his sword out of reach first before backing into the bathroom with a crooked grin, and an open bottle of wine in each hand. 

“You comin’?”

The Warlord followed, not knowing if he could see the other man as anything but an enemy, even for a night. 

The bottle of red helped. 

“Here, let me help you with that.”

“It’s fine, I’ve— fu-uck!”

An absurdly large splinter had pierced into Mihawk’s lower back sometime during the fight, and although the two men had been staring at each other while they showered, they hadn’t touched until Shanks saw him struggling with that invasive bit of wood. 

“This little thing hurt that bad, huh,” Shanks teased as he tossed the splinter, reaching for the first aid supplies the bartender had shoved at them when they walked in dripping with blood. 

He soaked a swab in alcohol, and pressed it to the small wound before the swordsman could dodge him, and the desperate noise he let out made Shanks’ jaw drop. 

Mihawk turned away, grabbing a towel to tie down his body's reaction before leaving the redhead in the bathroom with his mouth still hanging wide. 

“I’ve got some extra pants you can—“

“I’m not wearing your ugly pants. They look like an old lady’s couch.”

Shanks snorted, admiring the sulking Warlord that was cleaning his already clean blade. 

“No pants then. I can live with that.”

“Is this what you wanted all along, Red Hair? I would have have fucked you on the tavern table if you’d just asked nicely.”

Shanks had left his towel in the bathroom, and his body’s reaction to those words was on full display while he leaned against the doorframe. 

“I don’t think losers get to be on top, Hawk Eyes.”

Rage was back. 

“And I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow to kill you.”

“Come on, friend,” Shanks dared, taking another swig while the hissing monster held that tiny blade to his throat again. “Let’s have some more fun.”

Who moved first? Neither could tell, but however it started, nothing in the world could stop them now. 

That kiss between rivals sparked another dance that would last for hours. 

Another fight that left them snarling and breathless, throwing taunts back and forth while they tore each other apart. 

Another battle of strength and will to see which man would fall to the other. 

“You truly believe you can take me,” Mihawk laughed, shoving his opponent against the wall hard enough for the wood to groan, and the dust to shake loose from the shelves beside them. 

“I believe you want me to,” the redhead taunted. It felt so good to be lost. “You keep hunting for someone who can. I bet you’re just dying to get fucked into the ground, aren’t you? Want me to hurt you?”

He fisted into that soft, black hair, yanking the man’s head back. That pathetic moan was music to his ears, and his cock was dripping with the need to shove it into the swordsman already. 

“And what about you,” Mihawk growled. He grabbed onto Shanks’ pulsing cock, and laughed when his knees nearly buckled. “You’re so obsessed with fighting me, trying so hard to fuck me. Willing to die for some fun? I’ve never met such a desperate whore.”

And they were kissing again, with Mihawk laughing into Shanks’ mouth while his cruel fingers made his enemy whine.

“Gods, if you’re gonna be such a sore loser, I guess you can take the win,” caved the redhead, breathless and aching to let this man clear his mind for as long as he could. He stumbled over to his bag, and tossed his rival a bottle of lube.

“Knew this was what you wanted,” Mihawk purred, already fisting the cool liquid over his swollen cock before bringing the bottle to his opponent’s waiting body. “You even came prepared.”

“Never know who you might run into at a— ooh, f-fuck. Mm, you’re so good at that.”

Mihawk smirked while his fingers tore so many noises from this gorgeous man, adding and stretching while he taunted him.

“I’ve never fucked someone I planned to kill the next day,” he threatened. That tiny smirk on the redhead’s lips was a challenge, and he needed to make this smug, little pirate beg.

Gods, he’s so pretty. He—

Shanks’ eyes rolled back, whatever he’d planned to say disappearing when the swordsman pierced him. Rough, angry, owning. Exactly what he needed.

“Hawk Eye— Hawk. Fuuck, you feel so fucking good, baby.”

“This it, huh,” he snarled, shoving Shanks’ thigh toward him with one hand, and grabbing that whining throat with the other. “Are you a little toy made just for me? Following me around until I sink my blade in you?”

Oh, those golden eyes. Shanks could have died right then, letting this man have him, but he didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want him to leave. 

And he just couldn’t help himself.

Mihawk had never made that sound before. He had his prey beneath him, flushed and desperate, those soft, brown eyes almost broken. 

Then there was pain.

He didn’t know what was happening until he saw that fucking smirk, but it was too late.

Shanks had found that little wound on his back, and dug his nails in. 

He looked so fucking smug before he followed his lover, arching his back while he came across his chest and stomach. It didn’t stop him from making Mihawk twitch and moan with sharp pleasure from the pain he kept twisting into his skin. 

They both whimpered and gasped while Mihawk kept fucking his come even deeper. Shanks’ nails in his skin were the strings of a marionette, controlling him, owning him.

It felt unreal.

The Warlord wanted to be angry, wanted to punish the grinning lover he still pierced, but he couldn’t think. 

Just a little while. A little while longer without thinking, until the enemies were taunting and teasing again, another round of showers to clean a different kind of mess away.

It felt…

It wasn’t safe.

“Where ya going, loser?”

Shanks’ high dropped fast, almost as fast as Mihawk climbed back into his fancy clothes. 

He didn’t want it to end.

“Sleep well, rookie. Tomorrow’s your last day.”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

“Can’t sleep without me, clown?”

“No, shithead,” Buggy sneered, and Crocodile’s deep laughter poured through the transponder snail until Mihawk felt an almost smile touch his lips. “You’re an agent now, and we’d like an update.”

“Of course, Mr. President,” he teased, though he felt heavier with every breath. “This very late night update is that I’m floating on the sea.”

“Where did you end up heading first,” Crocodile interrupted Buggy’s grumbles, and his lovely voice sent guilt coursing through Mihawk’s veins.

“With these conditions, I should make it to Majiatsuka by this time tomorrow.”

“That’s the, uh,” Buggy groaned in thought, with the sound of rustling paper accompanying his noises. 

“That’s one of the island kingdoms around Dress Rosa, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Buggy answered Crocodile’s question, while Mihawk stared into nothing. “It’s right here, but that’s– You’re not gonna check out Whole Cake first? And Germa’s creepy boats are parked to the east. Which suitor lives–”

“Mihawk.”

He couldn’t speak.

“What’s wrong,” Buggy asked, quiet after Crocodile’s rage. 

Until he found his own. 

“Are you fucking STUPID? We don’t have a plan! I can’t believe you, you BATSHIT CRAZY fucking asshole. I’m gonna–”

“Explain,” Crocodile ordered, that dangerous purr ending Buggy’s rant. “Why are you going to the estate?”

“I’m going near the estate,” the swordsman cleared his throat, grateful that there was just enough room on his boat to pace. “I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful, but I didn’t quite lie. I’ll still try to gather intel to thin the crowd, bloodlessly if possible.”

“You do realize the sheer amount of manpower between you, right? The fucking surveillance?” Crocodile’s voice was edged with that dangerous disappointment, that waiting rage. “Hells, he probably already knows where you are with how much the Marines–”

“I can’t take it! I can’t take another fucking second of this!”

Nothing but the wind in the sails. 

Nothing but his ragged breathing, and his heart that was too fucking loud.

“Mihawk,” Buggy asked softly. True softness for the man that had tortured him, tormented him, taken and used his lover like a fucking whore. Mihawk couldn’t understand the forgiveness he’d been given.

He didn’t need it anymore.

“I’ll try, I will, I swear,” the swordsman vowed, not sure if he was telling the truth. “But I need her!”

“Little prince–”

“I don’t want to force her. I don't ever want to force her again. I want to respect her wishes, and wait until we know what she needs, what she wants… but I don’t want that. Not really.”

Mihawk gave a hateful laugh, nearly choking on his self loathing, but his rage would stop spilling out.

“I want to go in there, and grab her, and slaughter everyone on that island! I want to kill everyone that’s ever fucking looked at her! I want–”

“Hey, crybaby, you think I don’t fucking want that,” Buggy fumed, death in his voice.

“That’s why I’m doing this,” Mihawk slumped, not knowing when the tears began. “You deserve her. I’ll try not to go in there unless there’s no other way, but I need to be close.”

“What are you talking about,” Crocodile breathed. 

There wasn’t enough room on this boat to have these emotions, and Mihawk had to clench his fists to keep from tearing it to pieces.

“I need her, but I’d rather she hate me than… I’ll be the monster, so you don’t have to. I think I can live with her hate if I know she’s with you. With someone she loves.”

Nothing but the waves. 

“The security is still fucking vicious,” Crocodile rasped, anger draining from his voice. “And with the suitors’ people, and Sylvad’s pet Marines… That’s a lot of armies to fight.”

“I’ll be fine, and she already hates Shanks, so he can do whatever he has to,” Mihawk sighed as visions of violence soothed him. “The two of us should be able to tear the place asunder. The Cross Guild will need to relocate if it comes to that though. Probably disband, and go into hiding. You can take her somewhere. You can take care of her.”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re not doing this! She wouldn’t want—“

“Buggy, I’ll try to wait,” Mihawk pleaded, surprised that he still wanted permission. “Please, let me be the last resort. Call me if something happens, and I’ll bring her back to you. I’ll be the monster. Let me… please.”

The swordsman could hear his silent clown, those desperate breaths echoing through the night air.

That silence dragged on too long, and he couldn’t get her broken laughter out of his mind. Her uncle’s threats that Buggy had scrawled and crumpled in his rage and despair. The wound she had dealt him when she left. How perfectly cold her eyes had been. 

Until she wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

“I think she was telling the truth,” Buggy whispered, hardly breaking the silence. “She wanted to go, even though... I don’t think she’ll forgive you.” 

“I know. She shouldn’t.”

“Are you trying to be selfish, or selfless, little prince? Because either way, you’re fucking doing it wrong.”

The swordsman let out his own broken laughter, ducking into the small cabin to find a bottle of red. 

“Listen to me, bright eyes,” his business partner urged. “If you need to be out there, then do it, but don’t do this.”

“Don’t drink and sail,” Mihawk asked, popping the cork to pour the fine wine down his throat. 

He didn’t want to taste it. To observe the colors. He didn't want to notice the hint of plums, or the lack of his little bloodhound that he had wanted to taste the world with. 

“No, don’t be a fucking idiot,” Crocodile sighed. “Don’t act like you’ve already lost her. You don’t know what you’ll be able to do yet, or how she’s gonna feel. Our sweet girl is fierce.”

“Of course she is,” Buggy agreed, a steady faith in his voice that Mihawk envied. 

He had changed too late.

“Don’t throw your heart away because you don’t think you deserve it.” 

His scarred lover had touched the truth too close, as though the grief in those words wasn’t just for him. 

“You’re not gonna find a way if you think you’ve already lost, so if you’re gonna do this, then quit fucking around. Find out what our girl wants. Get her back. Convince her to stay.”

“But—“

“And you’re gonna work with us,” Buggy cut in, sounding brighter, his rage shifted back to annoyance. “We’re getting my star back, and I’m not gonna let you take all the credit, asshole.”

The World’s Greatest Swordsman was drifting alone on his one-man boat again. 

Not so alone. 

“You’ll call me if…”

“If we need a monster, you’ll be the first one I’ll call,” his clown promised, bringing a wave of sick relief at the thought. “But this whole sacrificing yourself for our happiness shit is fucking lame. Can you try not to be so dramatic?”

Silence. Nothing but the water. 

Nothing until the laughter started. Warm, deep laughter at their tearful swordsman, and their dramatic clown that joined in with a snort before they all forgot what they were laughing about. 

“I’m sorry I lied, daddy,” Mihawk breathed, suddenly cold at the thought of sleeping. 

“You’ll get your punishment. Just fly back home, little bird.”

“And stop being such a dumbass, please,” Buggy groaned, sounding squished as though a massive arm had curled around him. 

“No promises,” Mihawk laughed, “but I will try… Thank you.”

The Cross Guild said their slow goodnights, leaving the swordsman on that quiet sea.

He drifted alone on his one-man boat, but this time he floated between his distant lovers, knowing that he had always been right. Love isn’t safe. 

Fuck being safe. 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: So I went a little wild here. Writing Mishanks' backstory felt like utter self indulgence, so I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did! I love all of our fucked up boys so very much 😭 Who's ready to make some sweets with Katakuri though? 🍩😏

Fic Updates & Extras:

Special thanks to the commenter who referred to Shanks' pants as "grandma couch patterned" a few months ago, it has lived in my brain rent free. I can't find the comment on tumblr or Ao3, but you have my eternal gratitude for making me snort every time I see him and his stupid fucking pants now 😅🙏🏼

I've included a timeline below with OP Canon and Numbers Game events in case y'all would like to see where all the flashbacks line up. I left out any events that gave away the Reader's age for those that don't want to see that, but I'll make a separate post with more details for those that do.

You have no idea how much I reduced this timeline, lol. My actual timeline is full of a ton of canon details since I plan to reuse it for other fics, and I of course left out the Numbers Game spoilers. I only brought this version up to six years before the current time because I'm still cleaning up the rest of my notes, but I'm happy to share more later if you're interested.

I apologize that I don't have the timeline in text format yet. I will be adding that soon since images aren't accessible for everyone. Please let me know if you'd like that so that my adhd brain doesn't forget!!

The vast majority of the canon details were compiled by the sweet, glorious, super heroes at the One Piece Wiki, and The Library of Ohara. I would be lost without them!!!! 🙌😭🙏🏼

I'm basing the Numbers Game geography off of This Map by xads181 on Reddit. It is absolutely stunning, holy wowzers! 😍

Do you know how little fucking time it takes to get between most of these islands? I thought my timeline was going too fast, but Oda really just had them speedrun their adventure while we take 25+ years to watch it. I love him so much 😅💜

Numbers Game Abbreviated Timeline ~ 6-52ish years ago:

I made this timeline using Miro if you're interested. It's got a free or paid version, and it's been helping me so much. (I completely ignore the AI (🤢) and collaborative features, but the mindmapping and such is just so good!) Writing this long of a fic with so much to keep track of was wild in my messy, poorly titled google docs list 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000 | @mercymccann | @horse-and-writer97

Part 34

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 23

Here They Come

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 4090

Ao3 Link

Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: Party's about to start. Can everybody pull themselves together amidst more untimely confrontations?

Author's Note: Heeyyy, so still hella drama, but not nearly as much trauma this time around. And of course, the smut! There's a new symbol for POV shifting. ⏰ paired with one or more of the boys will be a flashback of their past. I hope you enjoy! (Smutty flashbacks occur during adulthood of all parties involved!)

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting panic attacks &/or big trauma (These symbols bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Grief, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Blowjobs, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Gods, he’s dull.

He stared at you from across the decadent table, though the candlelight dancing in the crystal glasses was all you wanted to look at. 

“I hear you’re quite the mathematician,” the faceless suitor cooed, almost pulling you out of your daze. “That you’re actually working at a bank?”

“Yes, I—“

“What a unique hobby,” he patronized, making you fight not to roll your eyes.

Not worth it. Not even close.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

I love the way he touches me.

You stopped your mind, refusing to go down the dangerous road it was headed. Enjoying every last moment of pretend with them was all you needed. You couldn’t lose yourself in comfort and hope so deep that you forgot it was about to end. 

Yet, those long, dangerous fingers were so good at making you forget everything. 

Mihawk’s touch could be cruel, vicious, intoxicating. Yet, there was something different about times like these as he helped you get ready for the party. Right now, his fingers felt reverent. 

He was a sculptor. An artist who valued beauty, and pleasure above all things. You were both his medium, and his muse. You were the clay, and the marble. His teasing, dancing fingers would call you forth, bringing you out to meet the world. 

Bringing you to life.

Stop.

Just need to enjoy it. Enjoy his scent, his touch, his hypnotizing voice. 

I’ll take these daydreams with me.

“How’s my little rabbit? Would you like an espresso?”

Huffing a laugh after he caught you in a yawn, you felt yourself slipping. Slipping into grief while you ached to savor every moment you could, but your body wouldn’t let you. Exhaustion was ripping you into useless pieces.

“Do I have enough time for a nap?”

The pity in his eyes turned your stomach.

It’s true. This is my last night.

“Of course, darling. I’ll wake you when it’s time to finish up.”

Gratitude couldn’t leave your lips, even after he wrapped your hair in silk, laying you gently on that massive bed. Even as he left you in the dark. 

Yet, gratitude filled you for the sleep that came quickly, instead of leaving you to scream against the pain and rage in your heart. 

No dreams. 

Thank fuck for no dreams.

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

Mihawk snuck out of the darkened suite, flashing his golden eyes toward Crocodile’s heavy steps while he shut the door softly. 

Scowling at the swordsman, Crocodile tried to shove down the unease that had been building all fucking day. Y/N. Red Hair. Y/N. Mihawk. Y/N. The stupid, fucking party. 

And the thought of how Y/N would react to the party favors.

Crocodile chided himself, wishing he’d explained it to her before everything got fucked. Now his sweet girl was gonna see—

“She’s taking a nap.” Mihawk cut off that spiral, his hushed tone relaxing as he moved away from the door. “I’ll help her finish soon, she just needs…”

“Is she alright?”

Mihawk tried not to let the guilt in his gut pour out of him, meeting those silver eyes before nodding toward the middle suite. Noting the tension buzzing through Crocodile’s large body. 

“Answer me,” he demanded, fighting to keep his voice down. The ex-warlord wanted to be farther away so he could let this feeling out, but he couldn’t go too far from her. Not when she needed him like this. 

“Our numbers girl is not well,” Mihawk reported, sinking into self hatred as the image of her tired eyes haunted him. “Can we do this party without her? Can we let her sleep?”

Crocodile wanted to ride on his anger, but the weakness in the swordsman’s voice made him pause. 

He cares for her.

“Let’s let her decide,” he rasped, resisting the urge to run into that room to hold her, to beg at her feet for her to stay. The thought of her staying because she feared his reaction made his bones ache, not sure of anything he could do that wouldn’t hurt her. He slumped onto the edge of the bed, his own exhaustion remarkably heavier than after a brutal fight. 

The crack of wood beneath him made him curse, hoping he hadn’t woken his sweet girl. 

“Did you just break the bed,” Mihawk choked, fighting a laugh as the terrifying ex-warlord ungracefully pulled himself up from the caved-in mattress, shards of wood scattered across the lovely carpet. 

“I wasn’t paying attention,” he sighed, nudging a hunk of splintered wood with a freshly shined shoe. 

“I’m amazed that our little green couch has survived this long,” Mihawk teased. He walked toward the larger man, almost forgetting for a moment. 

“I like that couch,” Crocodile grumbled, still frowning at the destruction he’d caused so casually. 

I’m gonna hurt her without even meaning to. I hurt everything.

“I think we all like that couch,” the swordsman purred, resting his hand on Crocodile’s arm. Guilt was almost stuffing itself down while he distracted himself, focusing on the man before him.

“Is that where you and Red Hair were last night? Enjoying our couch while our girl needed us?”

The words came out in a quiet rage, but rage nonetheless. The fact that Crocodile hadn’t already hurt this golden eyed liar was making him dizzy. 

She needs us. It’ll hurt her. Can’t hurt her. Won’t hurt her. 

A constant mantra to keep himself from violence. Y/N’s gorgeous, frightened eyes were like a muzzle in his mind. The urge to bite wasn’t trained away yet, his body just one small push away from giving in.

Never again. 

He still felt sick. 

Mihawk removed his hand, a strange laughter struggling to leave his throat. After what he’d done to Y/N, he hadn’t given a thought to how his new lover might be feeling about his old one. It never even crossed his mind. 

I haven’t changed at all. 

“Shanks—“

“Your close friend,” Crocodile hissed, clenching his fist, trying so fucking hard to navigate anger without violence. 

Fuck. Maybe she won’t miss this asshole if I kill him. Maybe. 

“Yes, we—“

“You’re gonna leave with them, aren’t you?” His fears rocked through him. The ones he hadn’t let fully take shape in his mind. “You’re gonna take Y/N, and Buggy, and you… you’re all gonna leave the monster behind.”

Crocodile hated every pathetic sound that had just left his lips. He sat down against the wall to avoid breaking more furniture, but it only reminded him of last night. His sweet girl, trusting him with her deepest pain. Trusting him to protect her. Heat filled his throat, and he wanted to spit it out.

“It’s up to her,” Mihawk whispered, not sure what to feel as he watched this mountain of a man clench his eyes shut in pain, not from battle, but from the fear of losing…

Mihawk joined him on the floor, trying not to care about his coat. He leaned his head back against the wall, too tired to resist these new, uncomfortable urges. This new, uncomfortable need to stop hurting everyone. To care. To try.

“I’m sorry I brought him into bed without asking you.”

Crocodile sighed, too caught up to think about how many times Dracule fucking Mihawk had apologized to him the last few days. One time was wild enough, and it seemed to be a lie. 

This time…

“Why did you act like he didn’t mean anything to you,” he whispered, letting this conversation take part of his mind away from his worries about her. 

Mihawk let out a harsh laugh, covering those pretty eyes with his hands while he stretched and groaned, arching his back toward the ceiling. 

Why is all of this so fucking hard? 

“I acted like that because I am a liar,” he confessed, waiting for the sting of a hook that didn’t come. “I lied to myself. I was a coward, and a bad person.”

They both gave a tiny smile, surprised to catch that look on the other’s face when the two ex-warlords met eyes. 

“Trying not to be a monster is proving to be a more difficult challenge than I had anticipated.”

Truth, painful truth filled the swordsman’s words, and Crocodile didn’t fight his new, uncomfortable need.

His need to care for all of his beautiful, little lovers. To keep them from pain.

“We’re partners, right? How about we help each other with that,” he offered, spreading his arm out wide, hoping Mihawk would join him. Needing it. Needing all of them. “Maybe mean ol’ Crocodile, and his selfish little prince can learn not to be monsters. At least not to everyone.”

“I thought you hated liars,” Mihawk teased, scanning the other man for hints of violence. Trying to process all of those strange words. 

“I’m trying out this new thing,” he huffed, shaking his head while he waited for warmth beside him. “Don’t get used to it.”

Mihawk gave a real laugh now, cutting himself off to stay quiet. He scooted over, resting his head against Crocodile’s chest while that terrifying and comforting arm curled around him. 

This is nice, they both thought.

“You know, I was still pretty naughty,” Mihawk purred, unable to resist. “You should probably punish me any–”

“Oh, you’ll get what you deserve, little prince,” Crocodile chuckled. He let himself have just this moment to relax. To feel like things were alright. “Daddy’ll take care of ya.”

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

“You can suck my dick after the show, Red Hair.”

Shanks loved Buggy even more for the laugh he’d managed to pull free from his rotten soul. 

“Buggy, please,” he begged, shamefully begged. “Do you have any time to talk?”

The clown narrowed his eyes at his old friend, concern creeping around him at the strain in his voice, the tightness in his eyes. 

“What’s wrong,” Buggy hissed, pulling him into the private dressing room. A light blush heated all the way up to his ears from the thought of their last rendezvous here. That heat died quickly, his blood running cold at the bitter laughter that left the red haired pirate’s throat.

What’s wrong with him?

“I’m so sorry, Bugs, I’m sorry I– fuck, I’m being so selfish,” Shanks started rambling, pacing and pacing while his hand flexed, gesturing out with a tension Buggy’d never seen before. “No, I shouldn’t do this now. Not before your show. Sorry, Bugs, you should go have a good show. I’ll just… I’ll talk to you after. I’m sorry.”

Buggy’s floating hand slammed the door closed when Shanks tried to leave, his other hand pulling him around by his cloak. 

“Are you fucking kidding me,” he hissed, eyes wide while he tried to figure out what sort of drug could have made Shanks babble like this. Made him look this scared, this sick. “You can’t do ominous shit like this, and then just leave without telling me what the fuck is going on! Did someone fucking die? Why are you freaking out right now?”

“You’re right.” Shanks let out a pained laugh, leaning his back against the mirrored wall. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The clown glared, but nothing else came loose. He shook the other pirate, shaking his shoulders until those desperate, brown eyes met his.

“What you’re doing is telling me what the fuck is wrong with you, shithead.”

“That was always my favorite nickname,” Shanks smiled, eyes going dreamy.

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🤡🔴⏰~~~

“You know it’s silly to keep blaming me for that,” Shanks teased, trailing his fingers along Buggy’s bare shoulders as the clown took off his shoes. Taking too long to undress while they had another fake argument about Buggy swallowing the devil fruit he’d stolen when they were kids. 

“Well, I’m just a silly clown then,” Buggy grumbled, tossing a shoe against the wall without much force before kicking off his pants. “Just a–” 

“Just my silly clown,” Shanks purred after propping up his straw hat on the nightstand. He pushed that lovely, blue hair aside to breathe kisses up Buggy’s neck.

“I’m not yours, shithead,” he argued, though the fierceness faded into need fast when Shanks’ hand reached around his side to tease along his chest and stomach. Buggy couldn’t handle anything Shanks did or said. Rivals, friends, or this, he was always overwhelmed. 

Especially this. 

Shanks’ compliments and flirtations had always flustered and infuriated him, but now… Now he couldn’t think anytime his new lover was near. His lover. His boyfriend? His Shanks. He would tease, and play, and make him lose his mind. Could hardly get through a conversation without his face getting hot. 

It was amazing. Incredible. Still… unbelievable. Still waiting for his beautiful lover to fall for the next stranger they met. To meet someone as perfect as he was. To fess up that this was just a joke after all.

That I’m just a joke.

Just a silly clown.

Those fears were hard to remember with Shanks’ lips on his skin. With the lovely lies he’d whisper in his ear. With the way he said his name like that.

“Buggy,” Shanks rasped, sinking to his knees between Buggy’s legs at the edge of the bed. “How about I make it up to you?”

Shanks loved saying that. He loved watching Buggy’s eyes flutter, seeing his breath catch. 

One day I’ll make him believe me.

The red haired pirate was determined to make his lover feel beautiful. He’d seen the world be cruel, he’d fought that cruel world for Buggy, with Buggy. 

I’ll make him smile. 

“Do you want me to tell you what to do, baby,” he purred, hands stroking down Buggy’s inner thighs. “Or does my silly clown wanna be in charge right now?”

“Shut up, and suck my dick already, idiot– mmn, fuck yeah.”

Shanks hummed, taking his lover’s balls into his mouth while he started stroking along that perfect length. Buggy always got so hard, so fast, and Shanks’ eyes rolled back at the feel of those thick veins against his skin. 

“I said–”

Shanks grinned at Buggy’s order, cutting him off. He swirled his tongue around the tip, moaning softly at the taste of him. He teased and sucked that sensitive head, pulling away with a popping sound while he watched every little twitch Buggy gave him. 

“Stop teasing.”

“But you’re doing so well for me, baby,” Shanks praised, his voice and eyes dark as Buggy’s head fell back, starting to beg. “So good for—“

“F-fuck, Shanks…”

“Sorry, Bugs,” he gloated, kissing the tip one more time. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Gods, don’t stop! Please.”

Feeling Buggy shake, hearing him beg, whimper, and whine for him, was one of Shanks’ favorite things in the world. There was no one like him. No one more deserving, no one who needed him more. 

He stopped his rhythm just long enough to let Buggy shiver at the slow, tight pressure of Shanks taking him all in, his throat like heaven to the clown that had fallen back against the mattress. The rhythm built again, built until the clown’s still-gloved hands gripped the sheets. Shanks felt a momentary twinge that he hadn't noticed the gloves before, but then his mind was gone, drowning in Buggy, drowning in all that come down his throat, and the sound of his name on those red lips. 

“Shanks,” Buggy cried out, back arching from the insane pleasure that Shanks kept giving him. Spilling his need down that gorgeous, eager throat would never stop feeling like a dream. Never stop feeling like this. 

The red haired pirate couldn’t help but tease, making his clown twitch when he licked his tip again, drained of every last drop. He laughed at Buggy’s gasp, then crawled up beside him, not caring about the colors on his face when he stole a kiss. 

“So,” Shanks smirked as he rested his head on Buggy’s chest. “Did that make up for–”

“No,” Buggy scoffed, struggling to keep a cheesy smile off of his face. “Not even close, shithead.”

~~~⏰🤡🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

“Hey, idiot! Are you on drugs? I told Mohji not to share with–”

The giggle that Shanks let out did not help his case, but he tried. 

He tried to figure out how to do or say anything with this weight on him. He felt like he was being crushed beneath all this guilt, this disgust, this fear that he’d ruined his own happiness, and how selfish that thought felt after all he’d done. 

And now he was piling it all onto Buggy before his big show. 

How do I stop being such a fucking asshole?

Buggy was very close to slapping him. Really fucking wanted to. Why wait–

“I fucked up,” Shanks admitted, his arm hanging loose at his side. He paused again, and Buggy pulled his hands away from the red haired man’s cloak, releasing him, and readying himself to beat the shit out of his drug-addled friend.

“I have too many apologies to give you right now. I’m sorry. I should have said it sooner, and I shouldn’t have come and ruined your pre show yellfest.”

“There wasn’t much to ruin,” Buggy laughed, still watching Shanks like he was a cornered animal. “Apparently I’m good at my job now.”

“You’ve always been good, Bug–”

“Don’t fucking do that.”

Shanks’ breath caught at the sudden anger in Buggy’s voice. Real anger. Not the play anger they always had. 

“I’m sorry, Bugs. What do you mean?”

“What do you mean,” Buggy mocked, stepping back as his body disconnected, pieces floating up and around while he snapped. “Your favorite fucking sentence. You always just swoop in, and act like nothing bad ever happened! You act all sweet, say all this shit, and fucking touch me like– It’s not fair! You’re too…”

Red Haired Shanks had never looked like this. All of Buggy’s pieces stopped moving while he stared his old friend. He’d never looked this wrecked, not even when he was blacked out, and throwing up over the side of the ship. He always looked dreamy eyed, or just too fucking relaxed, no matter what was happening. The most negativity he’d show Buggy was just mild, teasing annoyance, and even then, he’d slip into flirting almost instantly.

Right now Shanks looked like he was falling to pieces. 

Buggy’s words were knives through the gut, tearing him down, almost dragging him to his knees. That anger that he’d always ignored was brutal. It was evidence of everything Shanks now hated about himself. Every ugly, selfish mistake was real. 

He’d truly hurt Buggy.

Now he’d hurt the woman he loves. 

And now he might be hurting this strange group of lovers that he’d been so determined to steal his clown back from. 

Not my clown.

“Are you crying,” Buggy shouted as he grabbed Shanks’ face, squeezing his cheeks to force him to look up. Buggy’s head flew down, blinking at the tears in the Emperor of the Sea’s eyes.

“I’m sorry for everything, Buggy,” Shanks mumbled, struggling between the pressure in his throat, and the clown’s grip on his face. “I’m not gonna say I’ll make it up to you this time. I know I say that every time, Bugs… but I’d like to talk about it all later. If you want to.”

“Okay…” Buggy pulled his body together, slowly releasing Shanks’ face, and wondering if he was the one on drugs instead of his old friend. “You swear no one died?”

“I swear,” he laughed, finally a sliver of hope showing through his darkened soul. “Although the party hasn’t started yet.”

“Will you watch out for her for me?”

Buggy’s voice sounded light, but Shanks knew how real his request was. That sliver of hope felt pathetic.

I’m the one that hurt her.

“I will.”

Buggy kissed him before kicking him out, and Shanks stood there, frozen in shame until performers cussed at him for being in the way. 

Can I fucking drink now?

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

Beautiful, they both thought while they looked at their numbers girl.

Mihawk’s guilt over treating her like a toy, and dressing her up like a doll was almost forgotten when she’d let him trail his hands over her skin, her hair, let him play with her. Y/N was always stunning, but he couldn’t wait to turn her around for Crocodile to see after he’d accentuated her features. 

It was incredibly satisfying to watch that frightening face melt at the sight of her. 

What a strange, lovely girl, to bring so many villains to their knees. 

The swordsman was already on his knees for her, and would gladly do so again, smiling to himself at the thought. 

“Are you ready, little rabbit,” he rasped, standing to offer her his hand. Crocodile could see her shaking at the vanity, and he had to move toward her, coming to stand beside his little prince. 

“We’re right here with you, sweet girl,” he promised, wanting to take her and run, to leave the fucking guild behind just to see her real smile again. 

“I’m ready,” Y/N cleared her throat, that perfect mask of a smile hiding his girl away. He didn’t even care that she’d lied. 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

They weren’t supposed to touch you at the party. A firm rule you’d set in place, needing to be seen as professional to maintain respect with these contacts, even if they assumed the truth anyway. 

It was always about the image you showed, not the truth behind it. No truths in this world.

Just need enough berry to paint a pretty picture. 

You couldn’t decide if you regretted the no touching rule or not. Which option was less likely to make you cry in front of all the guests?

Here they come.

You almost smirked at the twitching in Crocodile and Mihawk's hands as they stood beside you, watching the line come closer. Buggy had to wait backstage for the show, so his executives and CFO would be greeting the guests. 

The guest list was seared into your mind. You had obsessed, going over and over it, making sure that only the right people showed, making sure that their plus one’s were up to your standards. 

Each guest could bring a maximum of two personal guards. Crocodile had fought you on that, but he’d finally agreed that not a single rich sleaze bag would be brave enough to meet with a bunch of pirates without security. He did insist that sea prism stone would be confiscated at the gate, and that all the guards would be tested to ensure no devil fruit users would be attending. 

You knew every single thing about the guests heading up those steps, yet you still scanned each one as you turned on that Sylvad charm. 

Mihawk and Crocodile seemed to radiate the opposite of charm, and you were glad you were part of the greeting party, otherwise the guests might have all run screaming.

“Do you have to be so scary,” you scolded with a laugh. “You’re making my job harder here.”

“Come now, rabbit. You have them all wrapped around your little finger,” Mihawk teased, his voice bringing a flush to your skin that you tried to ignore.

“That’s Mayor Kottley, isn't it?” Crocodile flicked his eyes toward the ostentatious man in a bowler hat that was taking his time strutting up the steps. “The one with the brothel–”

“Shh,” you swallowed a laugh, your eyes wide. You tried to get your face straight, but couldn’t resist asking. “How did you know that?”

“My sweet girl's notes are very thorough, and very entertaining.”

A true smile started.

Almost forgot. I almost forgot it’s over.

That thought made it easier to find your face again, the pride and warmth that had flooded your veins drifting away. 

Guest after guest after guest. So many annoying people with condescending smiles. This was not the kind of pretend you wanted.

At least I get to help them all before it’s over. At least I matter that much.

“Sweetheart,” Crocodile interrupted your spiral, his voice reminding you to breathe and smile. “You know what this guild is for, right? Sorry, of course you do…. I just forgot to warn you. We're gonna be doing that tonight.”

“Doing wha—“

“Well, don’t you look lovely, Y/N. And here I thought you hated parties.”

That voice came from a tall, handsome man in a conservative, yet expensive suit. The scent of citrus and cedarwood moved with him when he kissed your hand.

It’s over.

“Hello, Uncle Cedrick.”

~~~~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: Hi!!! How's everybody doing? Please don't kill me for the cliffhanger, there's sooo much going on with this party, lol. Also, I hope you don't mind that I decided against describing reader's dress, hair, and makeup (besides "accentuating features") for the party. I had some ideas, but I figured your ideas would work better for you! Numbers Girl will pretty much always be wearing dresses though since Daddy Croc likes them, and Mihawk enjoys the easy access 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000 | @mercymccann

Part 24

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 21

For Now

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 4815

Ao3 Link

Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: It's hard to sleep the night before the big event. Everyone finds ways to cope with the stress.

Author's Note: This chapter contains big TRAUMA/DRAMA/HURT, but also big SMUT and COMFORT, I swear!! However, the flashback includes the trauma of the reader's father's death. I have bracketed that section between these symbols ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ and you can skip it without missing the story. Please do not read that section if parental death, trauma, shipwrecks, panic attacks, or grief may be triggering for you!

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting panic attacks and/or big trauma (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Grief, Death of Minor Original Character, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Parental Death, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Anal, Hair-Pulling, Blowjobs, Face Slapping, Degradation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

Gods fucking damn it. 

Shanks had the presence of mind to pull on his pants before running away from that room, but now he was wandering down the corridor with sex all over his skin, a sticky reminder of the scene he’d just left. 

Fuck. 

His clothes were in the middle suite, the one nextdoor to the room he’d just fled from like a coward. 

Buggy’s scent, so precious, so craved for so long, made him want to smash his head against the wall. 

The way they kissed…

Shanks opened the next door he saw, finding another suite, remarkably full of exactly what he needed. Except for the fact that it all belonged to that swordsman. 

He’d found Mihawk’s “closet,” an entire suite of wardrobes, coat racks, and shelves for all of his annoying boots.

He wanted to burn it all to ash. 

Shanks stomped across the suite, relieved to find the extravagant bathroom fully stocked. Stripping out of those sticky pants, he struggled with the fancy soap in its pretty packaging. Normally, he’d be able to unwrap it easily, years of practice with one hand. 

But right now, his fingers were shaking, and he needed to get that fucking smell off of him. 

Growling as he tore the soapy paper with his teeth, Shanks managed to get under the water, scrubbing himself like he was warding off disease. He resisted the urge to yell and curse since he didn’t want his old “friend” to hear him.

He fought with piles of fabric, hissing with annoyance until he found one of those frilly fucking shirts, tugging on the softest, loosest pants he could find. He pulled the laces tight, but left them untied, strings hanging down over his thighs as he left his sex-covered pants in Mihawk's giant closet. 

Booze. Where the fuck is the booze?

Shanks became nothing, but that singular goal. The Emperor of the Sea was about to search every fucking room he passed until he remembered where he needed to go. Where he’d find the relief he needed. 

It’s that room. The one with that stupid, green couch. 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

You didn’t answer. 

No storms. 

No ships.

No voice calling your name. 

Just the snail on the desk, and your pencil in your hand. 

Then there was your body, trapped and suffocating. Too much heat, too much, too much!

You gasped when you woke, tasting the middle of the night on the air. Buggy’s upper body had tilted away from you, but his leg had you trapped, panicking with the need to move. Crocodile’s massive arm wrapped around you like a cage, and your breath went too light, too fast, too close to a scream. 

Whimpers left your throat as you tried to wriggle free without waking the sleeping pirates. You managed to scoot down a few inches before that giant hand grasped your throat, pulling you against his chest. 

“Sorrysorrysorrysor–”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Crocodile hissed, pulling his hand and body away from you, letting you breathe. His voice was full of sleep, groaning a bit as he rubbed his hand over his face. “Had a dream you were– Are you alright, babygirl?”

A tiny, sad laugh left your throat, and he kissed the top of your head.

“What do ya need?”

The darkened ceiling stole all of your focus for an unknowable amount of time before you breathed out your answer.

“I want to see Adam.”

~~~

“I thought you hated Adam,” you whispered, tugging on your robe before you left the room. You’d kissed Buggy’s cheek, pulling the blanket over his snoring form. Your mind struggled for a moment when you realized that there was no one else on the bed, but Crocodile touched your elbow, guiding you to the hallway before you could think about it too long. 

“Why would I hate such a tiny creature,” he snorted as he opened the door to that cat paradise. Adam came up to you first, then rubbed himself against Crocodile’s bare ankles beneath his long, velvet smoking jacket. His sharp eyes glanced toward the cat’s servant that was dozing softly by the door. “Come back in two hours.”

Giggling while the guard hurried out, you laid on the carpet to spend time with your little tabby cat. 

Not mine. Just pretend. 

Heat filled your throat as you fought against an odd guilt. Guilt that you weren’t showing this innocent animal the perfect happiness that he deserved. Guilt that you were struggling to keep pretending. 

“Sweetheart…”

Crocodile joined you on the floor. Sitting against the wall with his long legs stretched out for Adam to rub along, he offered you his comfort. He pulled you to him when you nodded, grabbing a pillow from the couch to set on his lap when Adam wouldn’t stop jumping onto that fancy, green jacket. 

You leaned into his warmth, breathing in the scent of cigars while you curled up against him. Petting the purring cat, you smiled at how relaxed Adam was on the lap of your frightening lover. 

No. It’s all just pretend. 

“Your dad told you that story, right,” he asked softly, touching a tentative finger to the top of Adam’s head. “About the Jewel Tree Adam?”

“Yeah.”

“What other stories did he tell you?”

Crocodile’s voice was so deep, so soothing. That question made you sink into yourself, struggling between a smile and a frown. 

“Most stories were about trees, or what they’re used to build. And math, always math. Great mathematicians that made their worlds better. But that story was my favorite.”

His strong fingers were so gentle as he trailed them through your hair, down your face, your arm, rubbing his thumb over your hand before letting you pet Adam again. 

“Why don’t you tell me about him? Anyone that loved my sweet girl like that deserves my respect.”

Strange pride and sorrow made your eyes clench shut, pressing your face into his chest. 

“He loved me,” you agreed, voice almost silent as you slipped away from the moment. 

“But he cursed me.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

The end of the semester was close, and you’d already finished all of your assignments. Just the final was left now, and you knew you didn't need to study. You knew you’d already killed this class. 

But the sound of your pencil scraping away, the crisp scent of your textbook, your dad’s comfy desk chair… It was all comforting. 

Moving numbers around was satisfying. Especially when he’d come home, and go over every assignment with you, making up his own so you could show him how you thought things through. 

You were erasing a mistake, brushing the bits off of your paper when your dad’s transponder snail rang. A little yelp left your throat as its lazy eyes turned to stare at you. You’d never heard a call this late before, even after all the nights you’d accidentally fallen asleep at his desk. 

Should I answer?

The snail went on and on, until you finally reached for it, wanting to help your dad by taking a message.

“Y/N?”

“Dad?”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

“Y/N?”

“Dad, is that–”

“Y/N? Can you hear me?”

“Dad?”

“Y/N, sweetheart! You can hear me?”

“Barely,” you yelled at the snail, struggling to hear through whatever chaos was happening.

There were people yelling. 

Noises you didn’t understand.

Until thunder explained it all. 

Waves. 

Wood creaking. 

Sylvad wood creaking. 

Cracking.

“Y/N?”

“Daddy, what’s–”

“I love you, sweetheart. I love you so–”

Louder yells, louder sounds. Your body was about to explode with a terror you couldn’t acknowledge.

I fell asleep at the desk. This is a dream. 

“Y/N?”

“I hear you, daddy,” you lied, pressing your ear close to the snail even as the crashing and creaking echoed through his peaceful office.

“My girl,” he praised, his voice straining over so many horrible sounds. “Knew you’d be working, my little numbers girl. Please be happy, be–”

Daddy’s voice. 

His scream. 

So many screams, and crashes, and Sylvad wood splintering beneath waves, until the snail finally gave nothing but choked, watery gasps. 

…

“Dad?”

Your head was shaking back and forth, warding off what couldn’t be real.

“Daddy, can you hear me?”

The snail’s eyes looked even wider, even more hypnotizing when you clenched your fist around it, shaking the strange creature while you screamed, begging it to bring back the voice that had called for you on that stormy ship. 

“DADDY??!!!”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

“Shh, I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Crocodile soothed while your panicked breathing made you shake. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. Thank you for trusting me. I’m right here, babygirl. Not going anywhere.”

Why did I tell him that? He’s just going to sell me. Just going to use this against me. 

Those instinctive, defensive thoughts fell apart as his voice kept washing over you. As Adam crawled off of his lap onto you, reaching up to rub his chin along yours until you held him, and sobbed. 

You’d never told anyone about your dad’s last call. That you’d heard your dad’s last words.

The only people that knew about it were people that had used it against you. Had judged you. Had screamed at you. 

Had sent you…

“Don’t tell anyone,” you begged, panic flooding your veins. “Please, don’t–”

“No one,” Crocodile vowed, his words heavier than the island you laid upon. “You know I’m here for you, Y/N. Anything you need.”

Somehow, relaxation moved through your body. Your mind battled between distrust and comfort, fear and peace. The contradictions gave you a headache, but soon you were nodding off against his warm, powerful body. A body that had frightened and satisfied you, overwhelmed and spoiled you. 

A body that was now poised to protect you. 

“You can sleep, sweet girl. Daddy’s here. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Mihawk had no trouble crawling out of bed without waking his lovers. No trouble slipping on his silk robe as stepped into the hall. No trouble following that taunting voice to the lounge. 

He had trouble opening the door. 

“Don’t be shy, old friend. Come on in.”

I’m a coward. 

“We haven’t got all night, Hawk Eyes.”

The rage in those teasing words had Mihawk’s hair standing on end. 

I deserve it. I deserve every ounce of anger he wants to drown me in. Don’t be a fucking coward. 

“There you are,” Shanks cheered, holding his arm out wide in welcome, a mostly empty bottle of wine sloshing in his hand. “My gracious host. Take a seat.”

Mihawk walked through the wine scented air, joining his old friend on that pretty, green couch. He wanted to stab himself in the leg for his urge to caution Shanks against spilling red onto the velvet cushions, or onto his stolen clothes that the emperor looked stunning in, even in his haggard state.

“Don’t be so stiff, Hawky,” Shanks laughed, turning to lounge against the armrest. He stretched his legs across Mihawk’s lap, shoving the bottle toward him until the swordsman took it, chugging the rest. 

“What would you like to discuss,” Mihawk drawled, reaching for another already opened bottle on the side table. He almost smiled at how annoyed he used to get when Shanks would open every bottle in sight before drinking, just in case he couldn’t open them later.

He tried to at least look relaxed, but there was nowhere to rest his feet. Servants had cleaned up the splintered remains of Crocodile’s rage, but they hadn’t replaced the coffee table yet. Guilt started filling him again at the thought of all the lovely and terrible things he’d done on that table.

“Gee, I wonder,” Shanks mocked, snatching the new bottle, and taking a generous swig. “Why don’t we start at the beginning?”

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

Shanks was glad the wine had dulled him, because his desire to kill the swordsman was still incredibly high.

Instead, he drank more. 

And more. 

Then he started, and he couldn’t stop. 

“You left me in that tavern,” Shanks growled, almost reaching out to strangle the man when he had the gall to look confused.

The tavern… Of course.

Shame. An incredible amount of shame slammed into Mihawk, and all he could do was nod, grabbing another bottle for himself. Shanks had clearly prepared to stay on this couch, setting open bottles around everywhere, just waiting to spill. 

“You told me love was boring,” Shanks spat, an old scar scraping open. “Don’t be boring, Shanks.”

“I–”

“You laughed at me. I told you I loved you, and you laughed in my fucking face!”

Mihawk had to close his eyes, the burn of bile creeping up his throat. He tried to speak again, but Shanks wasn’t done seething. 

“You left me there. I got over it,” Shanks lied to himself. “We went back to drinking and fucking everytime we’d cross paths. So much fun, pretending that never happened. But I was okay with it.”

He gave a tired laugh at his own words, drinking more before he lost it. 

“You’re Dracule Mihawk. Heartless. Cold. Of course you couldn’t feel that with me. You couldn’t feel it with anyone. I could live with that.”

“I’m…”

Mihawk couldn’t stomach the pain moving across his friend’s face. He wanted to look away, to run away, but this was the least he could do. To witness what his selfishness had caused.

“But now? With Buggy,” Shanks choked, looking up and away while he swallowed the heat in his throat. It wasn’t enough, his voice cracking when he met those horrible, golden eyes again. “My Buggy? Now you’re taking the only other person... Why are you taking him from me?”

“Shanks, I…” Mihawk failed. There were muscles moving in his face that were weak, that had never been allowed to move before. 

Why does this hurt more than a fucking stab wound?

“What the fuck did I ever do to you,” Shanks cursed, stumbling off of the couch, his voice more manic with every step he took while he paced. “Were you sent from the fucking hells just to torture me? To take everything?”

“Please,” Mihawk begged. He didn’t know what he was begging for, but he couldn’t stop the need.

“You broke my fucking heart, Hawk! You laughed while you did it. And now you’re making me watch you… Why the fuck are you doing this to me?”

Shanks couldn’t think, couldn’t even drink, dropping the bottle to stain the soft carpet before tearing at his hair. He needed to fucking scream, to rage, to fight. Anything but let these pathetic tears keep burning in his eyes for this fucking monster. 

“I’m so sorry,” the monster breathed, barely able to speak over the hatred that had replaced every drop of blood in his body. Hatred for himself, for a life wasted, for this pain. This pain that he’d… “I wish—”

“Wish what? Wish there was something else I love that you could fucking destroy? Why don’t you go slice my ship in two, huh? Go ahead, kill my crew. Then you’ll really get me. Take fucking everything you fucking demon. You fucking–”

“I’m sorry,” Mihawk cried out. Falling to his knees, he managed to grab Shanks’ hand with both of his, bowing his head against all those shaking fingers. He begged as he’d never done a day in his life. He cried more tears than he knew existed in his cold, unfeeling body. He let those tears fall onto their hands, vicious sobs ripping through him as he felt his heart break from his own selfish cruelty and cowardice. 

“I’m so sorry, Shanks. I don’t know what to… I know I can’t do anything. I don’t know why it took me so long, I hate… I fucking hate myself for this. I wish I could…”

Mihawk pulled at his hand, desperately crying at his feet, and Shanks was frozen. Shock wasn’t strong enough for the sight before him. The red haired pirate was stunned. He couldn’t fucking believe what was happening. After Mihawk cried enough to soak all their fingers in salty tears, Shanks plopped onto the floor in front of him, leaving his hand to be cradled like one of the stray kittens Mihawk had saved. 

“You didn’t do this on purpose?”

Shanks’ quiet wonderment pulled fresh tears and pleading from the world’s greatest swordsman. 

“No,” Mihawk laughed, raw and weak. “Gods, no. I’d do anything to fix this, but I…”

He caught those gorgeous brown eyes, wide as they scanned his wretched face. 

“I’m a monster. I destroy everything around me. I wish I’d never met–”

Salty, quivering lips, a touch that stopped their breath. Old friends, old lovers, having their first real kiss after decades behind masks. 

They clung to each other, ignoring everything they knew they’d have to deal with. For now, Mihawk and Shanks poured every feeling they’d ever held back into each other. 

For now, they kissed.

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

It’s cold.

Star!?

Buggy reached for nothing, a moment of panic that didn’t fade when he moved his arms around the empty bed. The bed that should have had three of his lovers on it. 

Maybe four…

“Y/N? Are you in here, star?”

Buggy’s body floated through the room in pieces, a silent search that offered no clues, no relief from the pressure around his lungs.

Gone. Everyone’s gone. 

Why would they all leave me here alone? Are they okay? Why didn’t they–

They didn’t want me.

Buggy choked on that thought. Choked on how fucking loud it was. Choked on the fears he’d been swimming in since his old friend had dropped back into his life. 

What if I make the wrong choice? What if I lose everything? 

What if I end up alone again?

He pulled his body together, fighting the sick feeling swirling in his gut while he found his pajama pants. 

“It’s fine. Everything’s fine. They all just got hungry at the same time, and left me all alone.”

His comforting words turned sour too fast, and he took deep breaths like he did before taking the stage. 

“Y/N? Are you out here,” he called softly, the long, empty corridor stretching on like a nightmare, like he’d never find his love again. 

“In here, Buggy.”

The clown caught himself, cutting off the yelp he’d let out at the deep whisper from the door across the hall. 

“Quiet,” Crocodile ordered, barely audible from Adam’s room. 

Buggy held his breath when he opened the door, but still couldn’t breathe when he found the owner of that voice. Crocodile was leaning back against the wall, sitting on the floor. Y/N was curled up beside him while Adam was snuggled into a tight circle on a throw pillow, perched atop the ex-warlord’s lap. 

The clown just stared for a minute until Crocodile sighed. 

“Can you help me? I don’t wanna wake up our girl.”

The larger man raised a brow, glaring until Buggy moved, floating his arms as carefully as he could to lift Y/N into the air. 

Our girl…

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

Do I just push it off? Will I hurt it?

Crocodile wanted to give his full attention to his pretty lovers as they left this ridiculous room, but he studied the purring cat as if it were a ticking bomb. 

He shifted, tilting slightly as he tugged a corner of the throw pillow to slide it off of his lap. 

Adam made a sleepy, disgruntled noise as he squeezed his paws over his face, almost like pulling a blanket over his eyes to ward off the morning. 

Crocodile snorted, startling the cat out of his relaxed, circular pose, just when he'd gotten the pillow off of his lap and onto the floor. 

Adam stretched toward him as he stood, but Crocodile had much cuter creatures he needed to cuddle. 

~~~

Our girl. 

Buggy didn’t think he’d ever held something with more care, not even his most explosive Buggy Balls. He carried Y/N to the center of that giant bed, floating random parts of his body to shove the pillows and blanket into place before setting her down.

“He’s calling.”

“Shh, baby. Just sleep now.”

Buggy set her up, his upper body floating above her while he made sure her face looked peaceful.

He bit his tongue to fight the surprised yelp he let out when a large hand touched his hip. 

He's so soft with her. 

Crocodile stood beside Buggy’s lower half at the foot of the bed, watching the gentle care his clown gave to their sleeping sweetheart. He chuckled at the shocked sound from Buggy’s throat, glad that it hadn’t woken her up. 

Buggy followed the ex-warlord after he jerked his head toward the far wall, sitting on the new loveseat. 

What happened to the old one?

“Come here,” Crocodile rasped. Buggy hesitated, but let himself be pulled into that world, Crocodile’s warm arm wrapping around his shoulders as he leaned down to whisper. “Sorry we left you alone, little clown. Didn’t wanna interrupt your beauty sleep.”

The tiny noise that escaped Buggy’s lips made Crocodile want to keep teasing. He was looking forward to making his little clown blush and squirm for him.

But their girl needed them tonight. 

“Thank you for protecting her from me. I’ll never be able to repay that debt.”

Buggy was shaking. All the words Crocodile had spoken to him the last few days were overwhelming, confusing, enticing. 

These words held respect, and it hurt. Pride almost poured in, but Buggy couldn’t help but wait for the joke. 

He was everyone’s favorite punchline. 

Crocodile frowned at the frown on Buggy's face. 

“Help me protect her,” he urged, holding his hand out as he stood. “She needs you right now, Buggy.”

The clown stood slowly, unsteady on his feet as he blinked up at that frightening face. 

That face that had terrorized him. Had made him fight, pathetically fail to fight, just for the slim chance that he could save his star from whatever harm this monster might inflict. 

That face that had made her smile, made her scream, that had called him pretty things. 

That face leaned down, a slow smile hovering close. 

“All you gotta do is tell me what you want, little clown,” Crocodile purred, breathing in pleasure at the sight of those wide, crystal eyes, and those lips parted in soft awe while this pretty clown stared up at him. “Do you wanna help me take care of her?”

“Yes, daddy,” Buggy breathed, not realizing he’d spoken until the words left his lips.

“Good boy.”

They shared a kiss, quiet and quick before they cradled their sleeping girl, and fell into dreams. 

That quiet kiss held a weight, a heaviness that seemed to anchor them in place. To draw them close. But for now, they left the kiss where it was.

For now, they slept.

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

Whimpers.

There’d never been so many panicked whimpers between them. Plenty of needy whines, hungry moans, and filthy gasps, but the noises that left their throats tonight needed their own word. 

Tonight, true need flowed through them. A need to make up for every moment they should have cherished. 

Mihawk thought his tears were done, but every time they’d pull back to take a breath, he’d see Shanks’ face. His old friend. That lovely, crooked smile. 

“You gonna help me feel good, bright eyes,” Shanks teased, his voice shaky as it fought for lightness. “I’d say it’s the least you can do.”

The swordsman barked a healing laugh, stretching his body toward the ceiling before wrapping his arms around Shanks’ neck, twisting his fingers into that red hair. 

“I think I owe you a lifetime’s worth of pleasure. How can I—“

“Take your fucking clothes off, slut,” Shanks grinned, his body pulsing at how those simple words made his friend’s eyes flutter with need. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Mihawk couldn’t hold in a moan at those deep, burning words. His hands flew to work, tearing each garment away from them both, not giving a fuck about where they landed. Not giving a fuck about anything besides feeling Shanks’ perfect cock, rubbing his hands along that silky flesh, licking at him, savoring his taste like the finest of wines. 

“There you are,” Shanks purred, stroking his fingers through Mihawk’s hair as those intense eyes stared up at him. “I always knew you were good. So good for me. Just wanna please me, huh?”

“Mhm,” Mihawk nodded, voice muffled around that thick cock. 

“This’ll be even more satisfying than usual,” Shanks laughed before he yanked Mihawk off of him, tearing at that soft, black hair while the swordsman twitched in painful pleasure. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? My golden boy doesn’t wanna be a monster. You just wanna get fucked by a monster.”

“Fuck, Shanks, plea–”

“Shut your mouth,” Shanks ordered, giving that perfect face a back handed slap. “You shouldn’t have gotten so good at fighting, friend. Can’t get off to getting fucking wrecked if no one can touch you. Must be so desperate, huh, baby? Want me to hurt you?”

Mihawk's eyes were already rolling white, his tongue hanging loose while he nodded. 

“Think you deserve that? If you can’t even let me hear your pretty voice?”

“Shanks, need you so bad. Hurt me, daddy, pleease...” 

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Shanks bragged, pleasure running through him. “Take me to a room I can fuck you in. Need to teach my little hole a lesson.”

“The table,” Mihawk gasped, reaching over the pull at the drawer of the side table, revealing a bottle of lube and a hand towel.

“You fucking slut,” Shanks laughed, shoving Mihawk onto his stomach before grabbing the lube. He poured it over his old friend's ass, smirking at how he twitched when the cold liquid touched his skin, dripping down onto that sensitive little hole he was about to rip apart. Watching his fingers sinking into him wasn’t nearly enough. “Tell me what you want.”

“Want you so–”

“Tell me what my slutty little boy wants before I walk out that fucking door.”

“Hurt me, daddy,” Mihawk cried out, his body twitching and curling with need, the rough fingers inside of him driving him mad. “Hurt me, fuck me so fucking hard, please.”

He was almost sobbing with that plea, his body on fire. 

Shanks. 

Gods, it was Shanks. 

He was–

“How’d you like that,” Shanks taunted, eating up the sight of Mihawk’s reddened ass, the brutal slap bringing a filthy moan from the man’s throat. 

“So good, daddy, please more,” he begged, “Hurt me, ruin– Fuuucck, daddyyy! Mmn, please…”

“That’s right,” Shanks growled, his body taking what it needed from the willing and desperate flesh beneath it. “Missed daddy's cock so bad, huh? Slutty little hole, just waiting for me to find you, to fuck you like the nasty whore you are?”

“Yes, please,” Mihawk begged, drooling onto the carpet.

“Gonna come for daddy? Gonna come like a good little slut?”

“P-please, hurt–”

“Ha, greedy little hole,” Shanks laughed, shoving harder, deeper, while Mihawk made such, delicious, pathetic noises. “Tell me what you are first, and daddy might be nice.”

“I'm your slut, daddy’s whore, your nasty little hole, your–”

Mihawk came onto the plush carpet when Shanks bit into his neck, teeth sinking deep as the red haired pirate filled his needy ass with come. 

“Shanks, daddy…”

Shanks growled through that mouthful of skin, his last few thrusts more brutal at the memory of someone else getting called by his name. But then his eyes rolled back as he finished sinking himself into the perfect body of his old friend. 

His old something more. 

Mihawk whimpered, gasping when Shanks released his neck to kiss, and lick, and breathe along that sensitive skin. Shanks hummed with pleasure at those sweet little sounds, his cock still twitching inside that needy hole. 

“Missed me, didn’t you,” Shanks breathed, heat and satisfaction radiating from him. 

“Always,” Mihawk told the truth. “I always miss you.”

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

“What’s he doing here?”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Shh, she’s still sleeping.”

“We need to get ready, it’s–”

“Daddy?”

You found yourself about to cry when sleep was torn away, but all of those voices reminded you of what a strange world you seemed to be caught in. A world that you hoped was real, even if it meant more torment, more people using you. 

Pros and cons. 

One of the pros was opening your eyes to find four incredibly powerful, beautiful men on that giant bed with you. All staring at you like you were precious. Like you were worth more than your name. 

I’m definitely crazy.

“Shh, babygirl,” Crocodile soothed, kissing your temple to quiet your sick laughter before it could take over another day. 

Too tired to panic today, anyway.

Today...

Oh fuck.

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: I loved writing this one, I hope you enjoyed reading it!

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000

Part 22

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 18

The Only Thing in the World

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 9508

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: Old friends reconnect, Buggy shows off his work, and you feel time moving by too fast. How can you enjoy the day when your world is falling apart?

Author's Note: This is the first chapter where I still think a lot of you will hate it, but I don't care as much because I'm super proud of it, lol. Although I realllyyy hope you like it!!! It's a rollercoaster 😵 (BIG DRAMA & EMOTIONS WARNING)

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Biting, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-Pulling, Cunnilingus, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

“You know, I can’t help but be curious,” Shanks wondered aloud, taking a sip of black coffee. He smirked at you from the newly added table on the balcony, the single round one wasn't nearly large enough for the appetites, or the sheer space that all these pirates demanded. 

“What’s that they say about cats,” Crocodile grumbled, tossing a napkin onto his empty plate before snagging the paper from Mihawk to flatten out on the table. He stared down at the page, giving the air of not caring whether the red headed guest lived or died, let alone replied.

Buggy floated his hand toward you from the second table. His body was so close to his old friend, but his smile was on you while he kept feeding you bits of fruit as he had all morning, his thumb rubbing over your lips when sweet juice would spill. 

Crocodile and Mihawk said nothing about it. 

But Shanks had too much to say.

“It just seems silly to me,” he continued, those brown eyes holding you in place, “that Miss Mystery Girl is keeping secrets from her lovers. Especially since they’ll be forced out of you after the party anyway. Why not share before then?”

“Leave her alone, shitbrain,” Buggy ordered, but there was no real bite in his voice. 

Your mouth went dry, the Emperor’s prodding words had twisted at your growing anxiety, even dipped in that friendly charm.

He’s right. It’ll be worse if I wait.

“Aren’t all the party guests your friends, Y/N? Do they know your little secret?”

“I think that’s enough curiosity for the day, Shanks,” Mihawk drawled as he rested a hand on the hook that had started scraping across the table.

“No worries,” Shanks winked, letting out a relaxed sigh as he stretched his arm toward the morning sun. “Your sweet, little bunny is just so darn interesting.”

“And you’re so darn annoying,” Buggy mocked, earning a playful smile from Shanks’ lips when he met those pretty, brown eyes.

“Alright, President,” Crocodile cut in while the red haired pirate leaned his face closer to your clown. Buggy perked up at the title of his position as their figurehead, his eyes a bit wide as he looked away from Shanks’ gaze. The dreamy look on his old friend’s face didn’t fade when Crocodile went on. “I’d like for us to sit in on your rehearsal this evening. Party’s in two days, we need to know what to expect.”

“Uh, sure, boss,” Buggy straightened up. You smiled to yourself as you caught his gloved fingers tapping and walking up and down his own thigh. “Let’s do dinner and a show!”

“Lovely,” Mihawk said dryly, although his eyes lingered on Buggy longer than usual before looking toward you. “I’m sure our clown will be busy preparing. Why don’t you all join me for a walk?”

“Got your garden set up yet?”

“Not at all,” Mihawk sighed at Shanks’ question, looking up at Crocodile after the larger man had huffed a laugh.

“Too busy building a cat palace, and terrorizing your other pets?”

“I have many fulfilling hobbies,” Mihawk smirked back, before narrowing his eyes at the rest of you. You and Buggy looked away quickly, while Shanks beamed at them. 

“Let’s have a tour then! I’d love to go play in the dirt,” Shanks laughed, his wicked eyes burning into you.

“Miss Y/N and I have some work to take care of,” Crocodile ordered, resting his arm across the back of your chair. If these men were slightly less terrifying, you might have laughed at their antics.

Shanks laughed for you, a low chuckle that sent shivers over your skin, still tingling after Mihawk led him away.

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

Shanks whistled softly, a comforting tune to keep his steps light as he followed his golden eyed friend outside this castle disguised as a circus tent.

That thought made his steps light.

Mihawk stayed silent, not a hint of lightness in his gait, except for his predator’s grace. He avoided glancing toward the source of that whistled tune he’d been humming lately until they were hidden away in the empty, walled garden, free from prying eyes.

“What exactly are you doing here, Red Hair?”

Shanks ignored the hidden threat under Mihawk’s bored voice as he chose one of the empty beds to inspect. Fisting into the soil, he let the dirt slip through his fingers, taking in the scent. 

“Think you’ll be here long enough for grapes,” Shanks rasped, standing as he tilted his head toward the other man. He wiped his hand on his thigh, huffing a laugh when Mihawk frowned at the stain of dirt on his pants. “You never change, old friend. Wanna hose me down before we go back inside? I’d hate to dirty up your shiny, new dollhouse.”

Shanks was one of the only people in the world that could notice the shift in Mihawk’s expression, his face almost sinking deeper into that lazy mask.

“You’ll never match me with cutting words, Shanks, just like you’ll never best me with a sword,” he reasoned, an unexpected tightness in his chest that he discarded, letting his body be nothing but air in this charged moment. “I’d rather not stand here all–”

“Come on, you ol’ son of a gun,” Shanks laughed, stepping across an invisible line of comfort Mihawk had drawn, touching his shoulder. “Don’t be a sourpuss. I told you I could use a little vacation, and I–”

“And you saw Buggy’s poster,” Mihawk noted, brushing that dirty hand away to wipe the evidence off of his coat. 

“You all looked real cute,” Shanks breathed, his eyes leaving heat as he dragged them down Mihawk’s skin. His lips parted into a cocky smile as he admired the column of Mihawk’s throat, and that chest covered in so many pretty scars. He smirked as he searched for some of his own making. 

“So that’s all you’re here for, then,” Mihawk asked, slipping into stillness under Shanks' hungry gaze. “Just drinking, and fucking as usual? Or just to steal our clown away?”

His hand flexed just slightly. He hadn’t meant to say those words quite like that. And the shadow that grew across Shanks’ face confirmed that he should have reined that question in. 

“Didn’t you used to call him my clown,” Shanks countered, gesturing to himself as he stepped even closer. “You know, back when you would give me shit for talking about him?”

“I…”

“Dracule Mihawk is speechless,” Shanks laughed, the sound jarring compared to the way laughter normally poured out of him. He stepped away, but only to pace in front of the swordsman, spitting words like daggers at his feet. “Always got something to say, except for now, huh? You’ve said so many things. Ooh, how about when you said I only liked my pathetic clown because of his powers, and that I’d be better off with a pretty, blue dildo? That’s definitely in my top ten. Or what about–”

“I’m sorry.”

Mihawk choked on those words, but he found himself in stillness for a different reason. A different danger.

Shanks stared, his mouth held open as if waiting to catch whatever word had been left forgotten from the shock. 

“What,” he growled, watching those glittering eyes for any hint of a feint.

“I’m sorry,” Mihawk confessed again, realizing that it was true. “I didn’t plan on–”

“Didn’t plan on fucking your best friend’s ex,” Shanks fumed, voice echoing a bit in the walled garden. “Keeping my clown as a toy? Have you used him as a fucking dildo yet, or are you still pretending to care about anyone besides your fucking cats?”

Mihawk cringed, taking each blow like a sword across his flesh. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this affected by words. 

Not words. 

Guilt. 

“I’m–”

“So how’d it happen then, old friend,” Shanks dared, anger still radiating off his skin, the air getting a little harder to breathe. “If you didn’t plan on it, did you just run around with your cock out until it landed in something?”

Mihawk tried to turn his surprised laugh into a cough, but Shanks’ eyes went manic at the sound.

“Who knew all my stoic friend needed to make him laugh was to fucking betray me. I can’t believe I’m surprised.”

“Shanks, wait–”

“Fuck off,” Shanks warned as he dodged Mihawk’s grasping hand, walking toward the exit. 

“Crocodile was going to kill him,” Mihawk called, hoping his friend would stop moving since he couldn’t seem to start. Shanks slowed, stopping to look over his shoulder, silent and waiting. “I suggested we keep him alive as our figurehead. I knew how you… I wouldn’t let him die.”

They faced off as they had countless times before, taking in every detail, every movement the other made. Shanks caught what looked like pain in those golden eyes, and his jaw clenched at the sight.

“That’s a pretty low bar for a friendship.”

After a heavy pause, Mihawk lowered his predator’s eyes, nodding as he looked toward Shanks’ feet. The swordsman was truly speechless now, nothing coming through until he braved looking back up when his friend broke the silence. 

“Are you gonna let me take him?”

“Of course,” he breathed, watching Shanks build up his walls again.

“What about Crocodile,” Shanks questioned. His lungs burned from it all, but his breathing slowed, still not sure what to feel about Mihawk’s words, about the emotion in those emotionless eyes. 

“He will. We promised Y/N,” Mihawk rasped. Shanks furrowed his brows, about to ask for more, so he continued. “She doesn’t want us to force him to stay if he wants to go, and we’ll honor that.”

Shanks tilted his head back, a heavy sigh forced out of him. Mihawk tried again, but he knew that none of the words that flew through his mind would help this moment. This guilt. 

“So it’s up to Buggy,” Shanks whispered before walking away, leaving Mihawk with his empty dirt. 

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

“Want me to drain the life out of him,” Crocodile grumbled as he opened the door to the lounge. True laughter let your lips now, and you took in a deep breath as you hugged his waist. The pleased hum that rumbled through him felt almost too comforting as he brushed your hair from your face. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Crocodile’s desk was comically large, and you wondered if he could hide a person in the bottom drawer. He stole your focus again, offering you a seat on his lap.

Work…

It was ridiculous how eager you were, how much you craved his attention. 

“Top drawer, darlin,” he rasped, not reaching down to meet your lips as you leaned into him. 

“Okay,” you blinked, stuck for a moment before you obeyed. The heavy wood slid open, revealing your notebook with all of your contacts, and their details. Your blood chilled when you set it on the desk, his voice taking too long to question you, leaving you in the discomfort.

“Do these people know your secret?”

Your body slumped at his question, his voice not cold or angry, but still not the way you wanted him to talk to you.

He’s never going to talk to me that way again. It’s over.

Heat built up in your throat as the grief and fear you’d been ignoring all this time crashed over you. 

“Hey,” he soothed, guiding your weak body to sit on the desk, your feet dangling between his legs as he studied you. The back of his golden hook lifted your chin. That hook you knew you should still be afraid of, but instead made you sigh, savoring its cool touch. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, babydoll,” he urged, and his sweetness brought a tiny choked sob from your throat. Then the sweetness was replaced with a steady calm, a voice that could tip either way. “I promised you that you could tell us after, but I need your word, Y/N. Give me your word that your secret won’t cause any problems at the party. If you can’t do that–”

“I’ll tell you,” you gave in, tears already racing down your cheeks, sobs too heavy to swallow were ripped from you until he pulled you to him.

“I’m sorry, sweet girl,” Crocodile whispered, only making your cries more painful. He held you as you ruined his silk vest, falling to pieces in his arms.

“I don’t want it to be over,” you finally managed, hating yourself for crying, for thinking you could have this. You met his eyes, wanting to shrivel up, and disappear from the concern and questions they held. “Can I… can I please have one more day?”

His pause felt like more weight tied to your limbs, dragging you under.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, carrying you to the couch to stroke your hair, and call you pretty things while you tried to stuff all those tears back inside. 

~~~~~~

Crocodile stayed with you, the bandage on his palm tickling your skin as he left soothing touches on your arms and back while you cleaned yourself up. 

“How did you get hurt,” you choked, searching for anything that would get your mind off of it. “I thought you couldn’t…”

Regretting the question, you cowered under that frightening stare through the mirror. 

“I have a secret too,” he rasped, his breath slowing as he stared through you. “Can I trust you, sweetheart? Since you’re sharing yours…”

“I—” you started, body humming, tingling with fear and something else from the intensity in that deep voice. “I promise. I’ll keep your secret.”

Crocodile leaned over you, enveloping you to turn on the faucet. 

“Try to punch my hand, sweetheart.”

Questions filled you, but you obeyed, fascinated at the sight of his flesh turning to sand to avoid the blow. He reached lower, letting water rush over his fingers, coating the back of his hand. 

“Again.”

No hesitation as you followed his addictive voice, you gasped as your fist connected with the center of his palm, punching straight into the center of the bandage. 

“What—“

He went to his knees, turning you to face him, gripping your hand in his.

“Sand doesn’t flow when it’s wet,” he whispered, the dangers of what he was sharing sending chills through you. “I can’t protect you as well when liquid touches my skin. Remember that, sweetheart, but never speak of it.”

“Never,” you vowed, wanting to cry again from his trust in you. “I promise, daddy.”

~~~~~~

Your attempts to clean your grief away didn’t matter. Every other lover clocked the evidence in your eyes when lunch rolled around.

“Pretty star, you okay, baby?”

“I’ll be okay,” you probably lied, wondering if Crocodile would punish you if it never came true. Buggy wrapped his arms around you, trapping you in place as you caught Shanks’ gaze behind him. The crease between his brows could have been for anything, and you didn’t have the energy to guess what he was thinking.

“What happened,” Mihawk asked, an unfamiliar strain in that liquid voice as he sat you down beside him. He held your face, studying you so intensely it felt like your skin would go raw. 

“Y/N’s going to tell us her secret tomorrow instead of after the party, but we can discuss that in the morning,” Crocodile ordered as leaned back to blow smoke away from the group. “Let’s enjoy the day, the next few are bound to be hectic.”

Avoiding so many eyes ruined any appetite you might have had, but you did accept a few more pieces of fruit from your clown, his eyes going soft when you smiled.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

“How the fuck am I supposed to work like this,” Buggy snapped to no one in particular, pacing as he reviewed his plans, needing everything to be perfect. 

All he could think about were Y/N’s red eyes.

And before he’d seen her like that, all he could think about was that stupid red hair. 

He checked every light, barked at every musician until they were all in tune, and snapped at the kitchen staff to coordinate dinner with the show. The clown went over every single detail until a light sheen of sweat coated his skin, making his greasepaint too shiny under the stage lights. 

Now and then, Buggy would remember that this wasn’t just a show. This was it. 

His one chance to prove that he wasn’t a worthless piece of shit.

“Which idiot left this fucking table here,” he spat, focusing on anything else. Anything but the way his pretty star had seen him bleeding on the floor, useless to protect her. Anything but the tears she must have cried today. Anything but that thing he refused to think about.

Anything but that stupid red hair.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

“I’m sorry about this morning,” Shanks purred, lounging on a loveseat while he watched you twirl for Mihawk, still deciding what you should wear. “I think I’m–”

��An asshole,” you quipped, trying not to gloat as Crocodile’s pleased laughter floated through the suite. Mihawk just cleared his throat, fetching another dress. 

“Jealous,” Shanks confessed, eyes shining with amusement even as his voice went serious. “I’ve been a jealous brat, and I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out for a long moment. The air was thick with the silence of the other men in the room. 

“A jealous brat, and an asshole,” you finally teased, the air shifting again as if time had reset itself. “Don’t forget that part.”

A shocked, yet playful grin hit his parted lips, then his eyes trailed down your body until you shivered. It hadn’t felt strange to stand there in lingerie until this moment, until the subtle bite he gave to his bottom lip before meeting your eyes again. 

“How could I forget, when I’ve got such a sweet little bunny to remind me?”

“Not yours,” Crocodile warned. 

“Of course,” Shanks conceded with a nod toward the larger man, though he never stopped watching you. 

Mihawk kissed your shoulder while he pulled you into another dress, and a bit of tension returned to your body as his silence continued. The instinctual fear that silence meant someone was mad at you made your stomach flip, but you couldn’t handle any more stress at the moment, so you shoved yet another feeling as far away as you could. 

You were grateful that his hands still touched you, even though his wicked voice was absent.

Shanks hopped up from the couch, his informal attire switched out for slightly less informal attire that suited him well. Darker fabrics, with no trace of sand, made his skin gleam as he sauntered over to you. He took your hand gently, leaning down as he gave you that disarming smile you’d seen when he first walked into your world.  

“Think you can forgive this jealous, bratty, asshole, Miss Y/N?,” he charmed, the force of it hitting you like a lovely ton of bricks. 

“Maybe,” you managed, unable to hold onto that bite in your voice. 

“I’ll take maybe,” he winked, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before Crocodile pulled your hand away. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he prodded before leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Let’s go see our clown.”

~~~~~~

“What do you think, rabbit,” Mihawk checked in, pulling your eyes from the stage. “Will those boring, wealthy clients of yours enjoy this little show?”

Buggy was tossing daggers at his empty wheel. There was no poor soul strapped on for a spin, so Buggy called out parts of the Marine’s symbol that was freshly painted across the wood, landing every shot. Performers and dancers took turns on the small stage, music and lights bringing everything to life.

You knew Buggy was nervous, but as soon as the spotlight touched him, he was in another world. 

Your shining star. 

He led the show before and during the lavish meal, until it would be time for him to hand over the reins, time to drain as many berries as possible from the guests. His speech was the perfect amount of charming and frightening that any of those guests would be craving for their little adventure, their little holiday getaway. 

Crocodile grumbled when Buggy urged him and Mihawk to stand from their place at the long, head table beside you, shaking his head when the clown announced them as his “Executives.”

“And let’s give a round of applause for our Chief Financial Officer, the stunning and talented, Miss Y/N!”

Choking on a sip of wine, you caught Buggy’s exaggerated wink, your coughs turning to laughs as Mihawk pulled you to stand. You smiled at empty tables, pride followed by emptiness when you remembered your promise for tomorrow. 

“Sorry we didn’t have time to find a promotion gift for you, sweetheart,” Crocodile rasped as he kissed your cheek. 

“I have some ideas,” Mihawk purred, his breath teasing along your ear after he kissed your other cheek.

“Are you serious,” you laughed, your body tingling as Buggy’s head flew toward you, stealing a kiss. “I don’t need anything, this is…”

Shanks interrupted your almost tears, lifting his glass up with a shout.

“To Y/N! Buggy, can the band stick around for a bit? Your C.F.O. deserves a party!”

Buggy obeyed without a thought, and soon the air was filled with joyful music, your body starting to sway.

“May I have the first dance,” Shanks grinned, stepping around Mihawk to offer you his hand.

You could almost feel it as the bodies around you went stiff. 

“I’m a terrible dancer,” you said softly, though you couldn’t stop swaying.

“Who cares,” the Emperor laughed, the infectious sound pulling you in. “Let’s go see how much fun we can have with three hands, and three left feet.”

Your hand was in his before you realized you’d moved, and he whisked you away. No one stopped you, and soon you were giggling too much to think about why they would.

“Are you this bad too, or are you just trying to make me feel better about myself?”

“You’ll have to keep dancing to find out,” he teased before grabbing your waist, pressing his hips against you. “Maybe we just need a different dance.”

Already breathless, you stopped breathing completely when he stared down at you, pressing his hand into your lower back. You swore you could feel his pulse against your skin as you swayed together.

“I love how happy he is,” Shanks whispered, guiding you closer to the stage, the music louder with every inch. “That’s your doing, isn’t it, bunny?”

Shanks’ eyes flicked back to you from over your shoulder, and he rotated your bodies so you could look for yourself. You’d already seen Buggy laying across the table in front of Crocodile and Mihawk, alternating between watching and cheering you on, and animatedly talking to his “Executives” about the show. Now you noticed Mihawk massaging Buggy’s disconnected hand the way he always does for you when you’re sitting beside him. A tentative warmth surged through your chest, even though Mihawk dropped Buggy’s hand when he caught you looking.

“You’re running from something, aren’t you?”

The heat in his almost silent voice, and the way he guided your body against his confused the icy fear that those words shot through you. You gasped, almost moaning when he flipped you around, his knees bent a bit as he rubbed against you from behind. His fingers dug into your hip with such strength and control that your body ached to feel them inside you right there on the dancefloor. 

He leaned down, breathing against your ear, the music vibrating through you with so much force that you could barely hear him. 

“There’s no better place to run than the sea. You can be free, Y/N, and we can make him happy together. We can live his dre–”

“Mind if I cut in?”

A voice as sharp as a blade chilled your blood, but Shanks didn’t let you go just yet. He hugged you to him, kissing your cheek, and you could feel a smile on his lips before he released you. His thumb rubbed over your fingers as he lifted your hand to place into Mihawk’s, who held his outstretched while he watched Shanks’ every move.

What happened? Why are they so–

“Hello, darling,” Mihawk purred, interrupting your thoughts as he pulled your body against his. You smiled up at him weakly, moving how his hands pushed and pulled. 

“What’s wrong, pet?”

Shaking out of your daze, you blinked up into those golden, searching eyes.

“Noth–”

Fingers like daggers pressed into your back, pulling away in an instant, your gasp lasting longer than the pain. Those eyes were wide now as he scanned your face, and you held your breath.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, the words sounding strange, as if he’d just learned them. “I’d hate to tattle on you, rabbit. Although I must confess, I am morbidly curious to see what daddy does to liars.”

A nervous laugh left your throat, and he gave you a few moments to breathe as he guided your steps around the gleaming floor. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried,” you managed, knowing that wouldn’t be enough. His stare confirmed it, so you tried to find a way to hide without lying. 

I can’t tell them. What if they’re angry? What if they fight, or kick him out? What if Buggy can't live his dream because of me?

What if I want to—

You shut down your thoughts, the sound of Buggy’s joyful voice pulling your eyes away.

“I’m worried about what’s gonna happen with…”

Mihawk followed your line of sight, catching the old lovers laughing. Shanks’ hand rested on Buggy’s thigh while he listened to the clown’s stories, the adoration on his face so vivid it was almost funny.

Almost funny, if not for the fact that the look on Buggy’s face was starting to match it more with each passing minute in the red haired pirate’s company. 

“Is my old friend hurting you, love?”

Mihawk had stopped dancing you, tilting your chin up toward him.

“Only by existing,” you laughed, not sure if you were dizzy from dancing, or from the chaos of emotions that Shanks had made you feel since he’d invaded your life the day before. 

“Come on, Miss C.F.O.” Shanks beamed. His eyes were obscured by Buggy’s extravagant hat, sitting askew on that pretty red hair. “It’s afterparty time!”

The two of them dragged you along, almost pulling you into your old suite before other hands pulled you back into the hallway. 

“You wanna sleep in there again,” Crocodile asked, and you almost felt fear as his frustration with your guest had seemed to build and build. But all you had to do was tell him what you wanted. 

“I do,” you breathed, going on tiptoes even though you’d never be able to reach his lips on your own. “Goodnight, daddy.”

His annoyed huff held a bit of satisfaction after your words, and you melted into the kiss he gave you. 

“I’m right next door, sweet girl.”

Mihawk pulled you aside, and you waited for evil, filthy words as he pressed you against the wall of the corridor, everyone else already in their chosen suites. It was hard to tell on his bored face that he’d worn most of the day, but he seemed to be frowning at you as he ran his fingers through your hair before cradling your face. 

He didn’t say anything for too long, until you flinched at the burst of laughter from the middle suite. 

“You are not a pet.”

“W-what–”

“You are not a toy,” Mihawk continued, those whispered words sounding vicious, speeding your pulse. “Do you understand?”

You lied with a nod, not knowing what else to say to those burning, golden eyes. 

“May I kiss you,” he breathed after staring at you some more. He tasted your lips as soon as you gave another nod. 

“Mmn,” you moaned into his mouth, eyes rolling back as he kissed you with all that wicked passion you crave from him. His fingers curled into your hair, and he bit your lip before letting his tongue claim you again. 

You were whimpering, whining now, gasping as he lifted you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you lost yourself as he growled against your lips, grinding himself against your core.

“Mihawk…”

His teeth were on your neck, biting deep, biting until your body tightened with need. That sharp, growing pain was its own pleasure, and you pulled at his soft, black hair until he moaned around your skin. Slick was smearing over his leather pants, your dress hiking up until your drenched cunt rubbed over the fabric, nothing but lace panties in the way.

“Always so greedy,” Shanks purred, leaning against the doorframe. His voice was light, a friendly tease, but the hallway felt sickeningly heavy, like gravity had increased, and you’d all be crushed to the floor.

Mihawk released your neck from his teeth, but pressed his forehead against the wall for a few seconds, leaving you to stare at Shanks, then Buggy over his shoulder, and then Crocodile who opened the other door to scowl at the scene. The swordsman lowered you gently, smoothing your dress into place, and whispering in your ear while he fixed your mussed hair. 

“Just say my name,” he breathed before turning around, failing to fix his own mussed up hair.

“The little rabbit and I were just saying goodnight,” he brushed off, heading toward the door. “See you all in the morning.”

Everyone stared as he left, until Crocodile frowned at you. You gave a weak smile and a shrug, and he narrowed his eyes, but let Buggy pull you along. 

Two doors shut, leaving that heavy air to fester in the corridor.

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

“What the fuck was that about?”

Mihawk didn’t reply, refusing any thoughts until he had a glass of wine. Something to sip, something to hold, something to stare at.

“Hawk Eyes,” Crocodile growled, moving to loom over the man who’d just gulped down a glass of wine he’d normally savor before pouring another. “What happened? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the world’s greatest swordsman is throwing a tantrum.”

Mihawk barked a laugh, walking away from the larger man without looking up to meet his eyes. 

“You may be right,” he said wistfully, wandering through the suite until he stopped at the heavy trunks they hadn’t finished unpacking. He lifted one of the lids, revealing the pile of fantasy books Crocodile had gifted Y/N. 

Mihawk frowned at the colorful covers, thinking about his own gift. He’d remembered that she said she loved cats.

But he would have gotten Adam for himself anyway. 

Crocodile’s body was on edge, waiting for danger as he observed the man before him. It was still Mihawk, still powerful, graceful, yet his usual faces of boredom or vicious glee were dulled, and Crocodile did not fucking like it. 

Mihawk ran his fingers over one of the covers, tracing the shape of a dragon before he snatched the book up. He could feel the other man’s steely eyes as he plopped onto the loveseat by that connecting wall, a new one brought in since the scotch covered sofa had stunk up the whole suite.

Crocodile sat beside him, still watching, still waiting as Mihawk sipped his wine, and tried to read about dragons and heroes.

“Should I just guess what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

A brief exhale, and an almost smile left the man who turned a page he hadn’t read. Still, he put it all away. Put everything away.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you need, little bird.”

Golden eyes shot up toward Crocodile, as if he’d offered a threat instead of whatever those words were. 

Crocodile bit his tongue, refusing to look away, and reveal the discomfort he felt as those words slipped past his better judgment. 

Mihawk had never had a day like this. A day when sharp words wouldn’t leave his lips, when sharp blades could do nothing for him. A day filled with so much guilt it made him unsteady. There were plenty of guilty days to forget or regret, but this one felt violent, urgent, and he didn’t know what to do with it all. 

What to do with Y/N.

The words, “Shanks is right,” played on a loop, until his mind was sick of everything but wine. 

“I don’t like the silent treatment.”

There wasn’t real danger, Mihawk’s body didn’t register it. Yet Crocodile fisted his hair, yanking his neck back to expose his throat until that sharp point kissed it, cold metal ready to spill red.

Mihawk had dropped the book onto his lap, though never dropped a glass of precious wine, especially over his clothes. His lips parted, forgetting everything in his mind for just a moment as that scarred face lowered over his.

“Are you gonna tell daddy what’s wrong, or do I need to tear it out of you?”

The swordsman’s body went loose, his eyes rolling back as Crocodile pressed their cheeks together, rubbing along his skin as he breathed in the scent of him. 

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Crocodile released him, brushing his thumb over those pretty lips while Mihawk caught his breath. The satisfaction that pulsed through Crocodile at the other man’s fluttering eyes was intense, piercing, and he had to hold himself still. 

Had to remind himself that he needed to know what the fuck was going on.

Mihawk hated how much he missed the touch of that hand when it was removed from his skin. Hated how needy, how fucking weak he was. Hated that no matter what he did, he would be betraying someone. Hated having to decide who it would be. 

Hated the sick wish that he could stop caring again, that he could treat everything as meaningless. 

That was how he ended up here in the first place. 

Finally, he took another large swig of wine, choosing to side with the friend that would never forgive him. Even though he might lose everything. 

“I have come to the unpleasant realization that I am a bad person,” Mihawk drawled, his voice almost perfect as he straightened up.

The deep, overwhelming laughter of the man beside him made him forget the world again, shock and annoyance pouring through him. 

“I didn’t realize my existential crisis would be so amusing to–”

“Where do you think you are,” Crocodile choked out, still laughing as he wiped a bit of moisture from his eyes. He gestured to the suite, to himself, shaking his head. “Did you forget what this fucking Guild is for? We are all very bad people.”

Mihawk’s mouth hung slack for a moment, until his head fell back. Laughter, thick as honey, filled the air between them, until his hand grazed the book in his lap, tracing over that colorful dragon. 

Crocodile couldn’t shake the feeling that the swordsman was holding things back. He wanted to pull until he got the whole truth, but there was something in Mihawk’s eyes that made him quiet, made him want to see the man with that wicked smile again first.

“Come on, little prince,” Crocodile soothed as he stood, holding out his hand. “Wanna show me what a bad person you are?”

A tiny version of that smile graced those lips, and Crocodile inhaled pride as he stared down at his little prince. 

His breath caught at the thought, at all these dangerous, stupid, distracting thoughts. 

“Thank you, daddy,” Mihawk purred, his voice breathy as he held himself under his mountain of guilt. “But I had hoped to rest and listen tonight, if that’s alright?”

Crocodile nodded, unease flooding his veins again. He tried to convince himself that it was nothing. 

“How are they doing in there,” he asked softly, wanting to shake the man, but not wanting to push their new arrangement too far. 

“Oh, they’re having a wonderful time,” Mihawk reported. The words that would have been tasty the night before were like ashes on his tongue, and he went to pour himself another glass so he could stomach listening. 

Mihawk just brought the bottle with him, drowning while he listened to Shanks steal away both of his shiny new toys.

Hoping that Crocodile wouldn’t hate him for letting it happen.

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

“Afterparty,” Buggy yelled, pressing that sexy music tone dial before floating you through the air. Giggling, you reached for him, pulling his hair loose to flow around you both. 

“You were amazing, Bugs,” you grinned, the tension of the hallway forgotten when he looked at you. 

“Of course I was,” he agreed, making you gasp when he connected with his lower body to press you onto the bed. His weight was such a perfect relief from every worried thought you wanted to burn. 

Shanks sat on the corner of the bed, but Buggy distracted you, kissing across your face, your chest, humming until you squirmed beneath him. He went still, his face hovering above yours with one of your favorite smiles. Soft and sweet, his crystal blue eyes dancing over your features as if needing to catch every slight movement, every piece of you. 

“Bug–”

“You’re my shining star, Y/N,” he confessed, a reverent tone in his voice that made you shake your head, twisting under him. 

“I thought you were the shining star,” you purred, struggling as he trapped your arms, holding your body down. “You’re the shining star of the show, and I’m the pretty star by your side, helping you shine.”

Buggy’s eyes looked down as he quirked his fading red lips, and your cheerful tease felt wrong. Anxiety started to fill you until he met your eyes again. He kissed you slowly, deep and thorough, savoring every bit of you until you whimpered, then you tasted his smile before he pulled back. 

“You’re my shining star, baby,” he whispered, squeezing your cheeks before kissing your puckered lips. “You’re my everything.”

Joy was everywhere as Buggy kissed your lips, then down your neck and shoulders, both of you laughing as you pulled him to you. 

You went cold when you remembered what the morning held, desperate to hang onto this feeling for as long as you could. Your head relaxed to the side as you tried to breathe out those thoughts, and you found Shanks observing you. You felt bare before him, like he could see through every uncomfortable feeling you tried to shove down. 

“She’s your star, huh, Buggy,” he purred, trailing his hand through Buggy’s hair until he stopped kissing your neck to look at the red haired man. 

“Of course she is,” Buggy bragged, tracing a gloved finger around your face. “Just look at her.”

His name left your lips in nothing more than a whimper, and you loved the way it made him straighten, his chin raising slightly as if your voice could lift him up. 

“I watched you feeding her fruit all day,” Shanks’ voice shifted, moving his hand down Buggy’s arm to his wrist before pulling those gloved fingers up to kiss his knuckles. “You were getting her ready for me, weren’t you? Want me to taste your shining star? Make her scream for you?”

Buggy lifted off of you, sitting back on his heels. His hungry eyes looked back and forth between you and his old friend, and you knew it was true. 

“Mm, I knew it,” Shanks rasped, now pulling your hand up for a kiss, staring heat into your skin. “Buggy wants me to taste you. Can I please taste you, little bunny?”

The weight of both of their stares tore you free from the world. You had to say yes. 

“Please.”

“Such a good girl,” Shanks praised, moving between your legs as Buggy helped you out of your dress, your bra, stopping there when Shanks reached out. “Hold on, friend. These are too pretty to get rid of so soon.”

He followed that order by pressing his hand down over the top of your thigh, and rubbing his thumb up and down over your lace covered clit. 

“Please,” you gasped, back arching when Buggy pinned your wrists. He sat behind your head, facing Shanks across your body, and you could see his breathing shift while he stared at the other man.

“Bunny’s being so polite,” Shanks taunted, his voice laced with danger that had your heart racing, “but if you don’t tell me what you’re begging for, I’ll just have to guess.”

He emphasized his threat by pressing his thumb into your desperate, clothed cunt, the lace panties straining under the pressure of his touch. 

“Please, taste me,” you choked out, catching Buggy’s face above you as he scraped his lip though his teeth. 

“My pleasure,” Shanks teased, tugging that fabric down your hips until Buggy’s hands floated down to help. “You know what she likes. Gonna teach me, Buggy?”

“Fuck,” Buggy breathed whiled he watched Shanks setting himself up between your legs. “Fuck yeah. Kiss her clit first, Shanks. Lick and suck her like candy.”

“Anything you say, Bugs,” Shanks agreed, pressing that charming mouth to your core, and your mind couldn’t decide which name to moan, mixing sounds together. “Gods, she’s so sweet for me, Buggy.”

“Quit talking, and make my girl come,” Buggy demanded, grinning at you when his words made you moan. He kept giving Shanks commands, until you were shaking, and those brown eyes stared up at you with so much focus, it made you dizzy before you screamed, coming all over that charming face. 

“Pretty bunny,” Shanks hummed as he moved up your body. He kissed the taste of you into your mouth before leaning toward Buggy. They kissed above you, the sight making you whine. 

“Looks like she needs some more attention," Shanks whispered at Buggy, until they both smirked down at you. “Wanna teach me how to finger your pretty girl now? I bet you know her pretty pussy so well, huh? Know just how to make her scream?”

“Buggy…”

“You hear that, star,” Buggy bragged, kissing along your ear. “I’m gonna do a magic trick. Make you come without even touching my pretty girl. You want that, baby?”

“Yes, ple–”

“Shove two fingers inside her right now,” he ordered, and you cried out when his words came true. “Spread her out. You feel that perfect cunt, Shanks?”

“Fuck, yes, Buggy,” Shanks rasped while he scissored those fingers inside you, spreading and feeling around, exploring. “She feels–”

“Wreck her. Make her scream,” Buggy growled. 

Buggy sent one hand to trap both of yours, and pressed the other down on your lower stomach. You glanced down just in time to see the spark in Shanks’ eyes when Buggy commanded him, and then his fingers were so fucking deep. 

“You heard him, bunny,” Shanks taunted, a wicked laugh as his strong fingers fucked you until you forgot your name. “You gonna scream for him now, or do I need to shove my whole fist into this sweet, little pussy?”

“Fuck,” you moaned, then screamed as his fingers curled inside you, his thumb attacking your clit. Buggy laughed before kissing you, inhaling your screams until you twitched all the way through that pleasure, twitched until it was too much. 

“Bugs, did we kill your star,” Shanks teased in mock horror, lifting and dropping your limp arm. 

“Nuh uh, my baby can go all night, huh,” Buggy praised, kissing your cheek while you tried, and failed to move. “She just needs a little break.”

“Breaks are nice,” the red haired pirate hummed. He laid next to you, trailing his hand along your body, and you sighed as Buggy laid on your other side. Their bodies, their voices, their heat, everything helped. Everything was good. 

“I know you like to watch,” Shanks rasped, speaking to Buggy before directing his voice, and his wicked gaze to you. “But how about you, Y/N? Do you like to watch your shining star?”

“I–”

“Yeah, she does,” Buggy bragged, interrupting you before kissing your cheek. “You got in soo much trouble. Remember, baby? You couldn’t take your eyes off of me and Mihawk.”

You almost missed it when your eyes fluttered at the memory, but Shanks’ jaw clenched at Buggy’s playful words, his fingers pressing into your skin for a moment. 

“Do you wanna watch us, bunny? Watch me make your shining star feel good?”

Shanks’ request sounded light, sounded like fun, but you felt it. You felt the pain in him, and you watched him blink and move his eyes around, trying to hide it. He failed, those brown eyes heavy on yours until you smiled. 

“I wanna watch.”

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

Y/N’s voice was so sweet, so sweet when she said those words. 

And now Shanks was crawling over him, and Buggy stopped thinking. 

This couldn’t be real.

Shanks stared down at his old friend, his old lover, wanting to kiss Y/N again for giving consent. For giving permission for this moment right now. 

“Can I make you scream now, Bugs,” Shanks asked, tracing his fingers around Buggy’s face, his jaw. 

“You can try,” Buggy taunted back, but his hands had already flown away to grab a towel and lube, dropping them in front of Shanks with a grin. 

“Come here,” the red head growled, lunging forward to grab that beautiful blue hair. Kissing Buggy almost hurt from how unreal it felt. Years and years poured into each other, and Shanks straddled his old friend, uselessly pinning one of his wrists above his head. 

Dizzy. 

So fucking dizzy. 

Buggy knew he hadn’t drank enough tonight to feel like this. His gloved hands were shaking as they ran over Shanks’ bare skin beneath his loose shirt, and he couldn’t think clearly. Every time he almost had a thought, a hungry noise from his old friend’s throat would make him frantic. 

“Can I help you out of these,” Shanks purred, his eyes sparkling with old laughter as he sat back to grab one of Buggy’s hands. 

Buggy’s eyes flicked to Y/N, and her gorgeous smile made everything alright. 

“Mhm,” Buggy nodded as he tugged one of his gloves off with his teeth. Shanks did the same with the other hand, biting down, and pulling at the fabric.

“There’s my Bugs,” he breathed, kissing those bare fingers. “You don’t need to hide from me.”

A hint of ice flashed across Buggy’s face, and though the clown caught and killed it, giving a smile to cover it up, Shanks felt that ice slide down into his gut. 

“I’m—“

“Don’t you have something you’re supposed to be doing right now, shithead,” Buggy stopped him with a laugh, tracing along his waistband. “Or are you here to break more promises?”

“Take your clothes off, clown,” Shanks ordered, heat and happiness in his voice. The two of them stood, almost stumbling off the bed with a laugh while their hands searched and freed each other's bodies. Buggy turned to do a silly strip tease for Y/N, earning another beautiful smile as she bit her lip. 

Buggy almost leapt for her, but strong fingers fisted into his hair again, pulling him into another chaotic kiss. 

“Lie on your back. I wanna see your face when you make all those pretty noises for me.”

Shanks’ whispered command burned along his skin, making Buggy’s knees weak. Shanks used that opening to shove him onto the bed, finding his way between those thighs. The red haired pirate sat back on his heels as he watched Buggy’s chest heaving, his body already writhing. Smeared red lips, and sparkling, hungry eyes made the breath catch in his throat. 

This moment was frozen, crystallized in Shanks’ mind. A moment of elation and gratitude, shot through with grief that it would be the last. He swallowed that fear, refusing to believe it. 

Refusing to lose him again. 

“Well,” Buggy prodded, breathless as he gave an impatient face.

“Lube,” Shanks smirked as he held out his hand. Buggy’s floating hands filled his palm, then dropped the bottle as Shanks grabbed Buggy’s swollen cock instead of his own. “Couldn’t resist. You’ve got the prettiest clown dick I’ve ever seen.”

“Fuck yo–” Buggy started, his words cut off by his own gasping moan when Shanks massaged a lubed finger around his asshole before pushing it inside him, slowly adding another. 

“Don’t worry, Bugs,” Shanks taunted as he watched Buggy’s face go desperate. “Help me get ready, I’ll give you what you need.”

The clown sent his hands to rub lube onto that veiny cock, just the touch of it making his eyes roll back. Thoughts kept trying to roll in now, to ruin this, but he shoved everything away. Right now their bodies were together, their bodies were taking pleasure, giving pleasure, and it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but those soft, and dangerous eyes. 

No more words. No more teasing. 

Buggy held his thighs aside easily, all that circus flexibility having so many benefits, and helped Shanks line himself up. The touch of him, barely any pressure yet, was too much, not enough.

Shanks caught Buggy’s eyes as he sank into him inch by inch. He didn’t have to say it. Buggy kept those eyes on his, and Shanks felt the pleasure of watching Buggy fight not to break eye contact. The look of frantic, painful need on his clown’s face felt even better than that perfect tight pressure around his cock.

“You feel so fucking good, Buggy,” Shanks praised, falling forward onto his hand so he could be closer while he started to move, to fuck, to make Buggy moan. He was thrusting harder, more desperate with every breath. “How’s that feel, baby? Needed my cock, didn’t you?”

“Fuck, ye– fuck, please.”

“Please,” Shanks purred, slowing to smile down, noticing the matching sheens of sweat on their skin. “I want you, Buggy. I want you inside me right–”

Buggy’s cock floated out from between their bodies, his hands going so fast as he lubed himself up, then shoved fingers into Shanks ass while he laughed and moaned, still fucking into him. 

“Oh gods, yes,” Shanks breathed, pausing his movements while Buggy started filling him, taking him, fucking him. Shanks' eyes rolled white, throwing his head back as he started his rhythm again. 

Nothing could compare to this.

Not when he looked down into those perfect eyes, tears forming at the corners while his moans got louder with every rough thrust. Not when he lost himself inside Buggy’s body, while Buggy took and gave it all to him too. 

“Come inside me, Buggy, I need to feel you,” Shanks begged as his body fell apart, almost there, but not wanting it to end. “Gods, I missed you so fucking much, baby.”

“Shanks…” Buggy whined, feeling the insane moment of pleasure when they came inside each other, the heat and force of their come bringing wild, needy moans from their throats. 

Dripping with sweat now, they relearned how to breathe, still twitching inside each other. Buggy started to move, but Shanks dropped from his hand to his elbow beside Buggy’s head, pausing to look at him before he lowered his sweaty face down, kissing those faded red lips. 

Neither had any thoughts in that moment. They finally won that battle in their minds, that battle to enjoy this moment for what it was. Whatever it was. 

That kiss was the only thing in the world. 

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

You weren’t breathing. You had no idea when you’d stopped, or if you’d ever start again. You might die on the edge of that bed, suffocating without ever making a sound. 

They wouldn’t even notice I died.

Bile rose up your throat at that hateful thought. 

It didn’t make sense. You felt so fucking selfish, so disgusting. What gave you the right to feel jealous? After everything Buggy went through, everything you put him through… 

They still haven’t noticed me. 

Entitled. Stupid. Ungrateful bitch. 

So many words and emotions flew through your mind, the speed and chaos of them only making your nausea worse. Anger, jealousy, self pity. 

You fought to keep your face neutral in case they remembered you were there, but your lip quivered, replaying every beautiful fucking moment. 

They love each other so much. 

Swallowing a sob, you dug your nails into your palms. 

I can’t have love. I can never have love.

All you wanted to do was disappear. 

“How’s my star,” Buggy asked, his voice shaky as he pulled away from his lover. 

“Beautiful, that’s how,” Shanks praised, mirroring Buggy as they moved in to kiss your cheeks. 

Liar. I’m a liar. 

Your practiced smile, your fake happiness that was trained into you since childhood lifted your lips, and you filled your eyes with as much of the truth as you could. You were happy for them. 

Part of you was, at least. 

Yawning instead of speaking, you let Buggy kiss you, giggling as he carried you to the shower. You felt lost, empty, trapped in an echoey room, only vaguely aware of the world outside. 

Buggy laid you on the soft carpet while they struggled to change the sheets, laughter, and insults, and deep, heated kisses kept interrupting their task until you wanted to scream. 

I just want to disappear. 

“Mihawk,” you breathed, hoping he could hear you over their laughter and moans as Shanks kissed along Buggy’s neck. 

“May I come in?”

The room froze at the knock, and the cold voice on the other side of the door. The lovers stepped away from each other before Buggy sent his hand to the doorknob. 

“What is it,” Shanks asked, his own voice drained of all the mirth it had held tonight. 

“Sir Crocodile,” Mihawk cleared his throat before his eyes found yours. “He’s tired of sleeping without his sweet girl. Would you mind, darling? You know how cranky he gets.”

“O-okay…”

Buggy came to your side, helping you up since your wobbly limbs didn’t seem to work anymore. 

“Thank you,” Shanks breathed into your ear before Buggy carried you to your golden eyed lover. “You’re amazing, Y/N.”

His sweet words brought back the bile in your throat, and you thought you might explode if you had to hold up that performative happiness any longer. 

Get me out of here.

“Goodnight, my shining star,” Buggy hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple before placing you in Mihawk’s arms. He smiled at you, but didn’t wait for you to say anything in return before closing the door. 

“Shh,” Mihawk soothed, almost silent while you started to shake in his arms. 

It was just a few steps to the other door, which flew open as Crocodile stood waiting, anger radiating off of him. 

“What the fuck happened? Get out of my–”

“They didn’t hurt her, Crocodile,” Mihawk sighed, walking into the room, and softly kicking the door shut behind him. “At least not on purpose. You’re okay, right, love?”

You were gone now, everything was foggy, and nothing mattered. It was nice.

“Why do you smell like four different wines?”

Both of them paused before Crocodile sat on the edge of the bed, deep, belly laughs filling the air. Mihawk looked half annoyed, and half pleased, eyes dancing over your face. 

“Five actually, but I’m impressed. My lovely, little bloodhound,” he purred as he laid you in the center of that giant bed. Stroking your hair, he whispered the words that finally broke you. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

It was a silent, choked nothing at first, your body almost heaving as it tried to fight. Heat built and rolled through your throat until burning tears finally fell, and it felt like the bile would soon follow.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Crocodile calmed, sliding in beside you until they both touched your skin, both watched you struggle to breath around tears that made you sick. “Tell me what you need, Y/N. Anything for my sweet girl.”

You almost begged for them to make the night end, but knew the morning would bring fresh, new pain. Your last night before it was over, and you spent it twitching with pathetic, quiet sobs, unable to ask these men for help. Their comfort only made it worse, and after tomorrow, they would never look at you this way again. 

Would they still care if you cried? Would they use you just like everyone else?

Would they send you back?

They held you now as you lived in this torture of a night you needed to end, and a morning you needed to never begin. 

Somehow sleep ripped you from the world, shoving you back onto stormy seas. You hung on for dear life, waiting for that voice to call your name. 

That voice didn’t call tonight. 

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: Writing this chapter was such a blast! Helped me through a tough week, and pushed me to write outside of my comfort zone. I would be eternally grateful if you tell me how you felt about the drama! I've been going nuts holding all this in 😅 Also, sorry about the big pile of emotions!! 😭

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki

Part 19

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |