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not-neverland06 · 1 month

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you're not her

The 'Worst' Logan x fem!mutant!reader

a/n: really wanted to write for the worst logan so I found a streaming site so I could finally watch the new Deadpool movie (yay pirating) (this is totally hypothetical and a joke to the feds lurking) I was going to just read the wiki plot but I don’t think that was going to cut it Again, using the same superhero name/powers. It’s not an OC I swear, it just makes sense in comic book movies to have some alternate name and I’m not creative enough to come up with multiple different supe names. Summary: You hate him, you really fucking hate him at first. He’s cruel and constantly reminds you that you’ll never be the hero he knew. You’re not her and he’s made that abundantly clear. But what are you supposed to do when he’s suddenly your new roommate and you have no choice but to wake up to his face every day? I feel sad because I don’t think I did the angst justice with this one. But if I keep staring at it trying to fix it, then I’m never going to post it. (This is a long one guys) Angst with a happy ending (because I’m a little bitch) Makeout scenes and smut towards the very end 18+ MDNI

You don’t know how you got here, but you know you’re mad at whoever dragged you into this shit. You don’t think it would be wild to assume it was Wade’s fault. Usually, when something goes wrong in your life it’s on him.

What you do know; you look like shit. Wade and Wolverine are both standing over you in their awesome ass uniforms and you’re still in your fucking pajamas. How are you supposed to be badass and save the world in pants that have Spiderman’s face plastered all over them?

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Wade,” you growl at him.

He places his hand daintily on his chest and waves you off, “Save that for the bedroom, pookie.”

You grit your teeth and glare up at him, Wolverine gives him a similarly disgusted look. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you grumble under your breath. You get to your feet and brush yourself off, finally looking around and taking in wherever the fuck he’s dragged you. “Where are we?”

“The void,” Wade responds, voice ridiculously dramatic. You look around and throw your hands up in defeat.

“What the fuck, Wade? Why did you drag me with you into this?” You look over at the Wolverine beside him. He hasn’t stopped glaring at you both and his claws are out, clearly ready to just eviscerate you. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Okay, wow, language, Flux. I’m disappointed in you.”

“Eat me-”

You’re cut off by the knock-off Wolverine standing a few feet behind you both. “Flux?” He demands, voice so low you almost can’t hear him. Both you and Wade’s heads whip around to face him. Thus far he’s been relatively silent, you nearly started to wonder if he was mute.

“It’s her X-Man name,” Wade tells him, gushing like it’s some big deal. “Impressive, huh?” You don’t bother correcting him that it was your X-Men name. Can’t exactly call yourself that if they booted you off the team for being a crappy superhero.

Logan snorts and shakes his head. He stalks towards you and you nearly fall over in your attempt to scramble back from him. “You,” he demands, claws pointed at you threateningly. “You’re Flux?”

Wade hisses, watching as Logan swipes out at you. “Alright, peanut, let’s put the claws away and take a deep grounding breath.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps at Wade. He turns to glare at him and you take the opportunity to scramble behind your friend for protection. At least if he gets stabbed, he’ll heal. “You,” he scoffs and it trails off into a laugh. There’s no humor behind it, he's just a dick. “You are a fucking joke compared to my Flux.”

The ground underneath you rattles, pebbles bouncing off the cracked desert and ricocheting off their boots. Wade quickly moves away from you, shoving you forward so he’s not in the line of fire. “Yeah, well you’re just an alcoholic fuck who could never hold a candle to my Logan.”

You can feel energy brewing at the tips of your fingers, waves, and waves of hate building up within you. The man across from you feels the shift, the static suddenly permeating the air around you both. You let your power build and build…

The pebbles drop back to the ground and you stumble back from Logan, nose bleeding from overextending yourself. “Shit,” you mutter, wiping at your face with the back of your hand and shaking your head.

Logan laughs again, it echoes through the stormy sky and you wish you had any control over your powers so you could just send him flying. Or, better yet, turn his bones into liquid and flip him inside out. “Oh,” he lets out a long exhale, glaring at both of you. “This is fuckin’ ridiculous.” The faux smile drops from his face and he raises his voice just loud enough to make you jump, “Just one big fuckin’ joke!”

You have about five seconds to dive to the side before Logan is lunging at Wade. “Wait, wait, wait we can talk about this!” Wade shouts, but it’s too late, he’s already on the ground getting his head caved in.

You let out a rough sigh, stumbling off to the side. You’re drained from that shitshow of powers. You barely made a few rocks levitate and you feel like you’re going to pass out. You walk away from the two men and throw yourself on the ground, trying to reorient yourself while they fight like wild animals.

You can hear them in the background, stabbing and shooting like they’re aiming to kill. Too bad neither of them can die. It’d save you a hell of a headache. They run past you, Logan’s got his claws buried in Wade’s gut while Wade’s desperately firing off his gun into Logan’s chest.

Your head rolls weakly to the side and you mutter out a pathetic, “No, stop. Don’t kill each other.” As expected, neither of them listens to you. They keep fighting, showing no signs of stopping.

There’s a moment of silence after about ten minutes of nothing but grunts and insults. You peak your head up in interest. Logan got his claws posed over Wade’s throat. You wonder if decapitation would actually kill him or if he’d somehow manage to survive that.

Wade doesn’t seem interested in testing out the theory, “They can fix it!” Wade shouts, “They can fix your timeline. I just need your help saving mine.”

Your eyes widen and you meet Wade’s masked gaze over Logan’s shoulders. The white slits widen and he minutely shakes his head, telling you not to say anything. Like, maybe, that neither of you has any fucking clue if the TVA is capable of even fixing timelines like that.

You know Wade is desperate when he makes that promise. It’s the only reason he would say something so stupid. It’s a blatant lie, one pulled so far out of Wade’s ass you’re genuinely surprised that Logan can’t smell the bullshit. Whatever happened in his universe must have been horrible for him to ever believe anything that comes out of any Deadpool’s mouth.

It’s a long moment before Logan finally pulls his claws out of Wade. Your friend slumps forward in relief as Logan stalks away from him. You glare at Wade from where you are on the ground, “That was fucking stupid,” you snipe at him. He gets to his feet, walks over to you, and forcefully yanks you to your feet.

“Not a goddamn word,” he warns, but you aren’t exactly threatened by him when he's got three holes in his head from Logan’s claws. Still, you hold your hands up and acquiesce, following after him as he chases down Logan.

Your mind is still fuzzy when you are captured by Cassandra. You're recovering from overextending yourself, eyes blurring and limbs going limp like jello when her army of henchmen circle you all.

You finally feel yourself starting to come back to your body when you wake up tied to Johnny. “And,” Wade draws the word out, waiting until you lift your head to finish, “there she is! Happy you could join us, princess. Mind turning these ropes into dust for me?”

You groan and let your head slump onto Johnny’s shoulder. He smirks and glances down at you. “Oh fuck off, both of you. I can’t do shit right now and you know it, Wade, I’m drained.”

Logan is glaring at you, but there’s less hate in his glare and more confusion now. “Can you do anything?”

You narrow your eyes at him, lips screwed up while you try to decide if he’s being an asshole or genuine. “Hard of hearing or something old man? I’m drained,” you reiterate, your tone a little too bitchy.

Logan narrows his eyes, grunting something foul under his breath. Wade interferes before you can piss each other off anymore. “She had an accident, her brain’s a little broken now. But it’s fine! Whose isn’t?”

You huff and throw yourself back against the cage you’re all being transported in. You feel eyes on the side of your head and slowly look over to see Johnny grinning at you. “Hey, you know I’ve met one of your variants-”

“Don’t give a fuck,” you interrupt. You hear Wade snicker under his mask, giving you an encouraging thumbs up even with his hands bound. You were both a little disappointed it wasn’t Captain America lurking under that cloak. But at least this guy isn’t such a prude he won’t cuss.

For the next five minutes, you’re on the receiving end of a very enthusiastically vulgar rant about just what a cunt Cassandra Nova is. He’s still not even finished by the time you reach the gates to her lair.

Your eyes widen when you see all the people lurking around the walls. Most of them you recognize as people you’ve put away or killed in your world. But there’s something just minutely different about them than the version you faced in your timeline. Their eye color or outfit is always just slightly off.

The familiar faces are almost a relief. But there is nothing comforting about knowing you're outnumbered two hundred to four. The cage is tipped over and you go rolling out, you grunt as Johnny’s elbow digs into your ribs.

Before you can even attempt to shove him off, the ropes are whipped off of you and you’re dragged by an invisible force across the ground. Rocks and sand scrape across your tender skin and bury themselves deep in your pores. You hiss in pain when you finally come to a stop and your body is your own again.

A groan slips through your parted lips unbidden as you struggle onto your knees. Your pajamas are ripped practically everywhere and you feel like you might as well be naked at this point. You really wished that you at least had a chance to change before you were kidnapped to another universe.

The woman you presume to be Cassandra Nova is currently fucking Wade’s skull with her freakish telepathy fingers. Johnny’s a pile of guts and bones on the floor and you have no fucking clue where she flung Logan to.

You get to your feet, shaking your head and reorienting yourself. In a second she’s in front of you, head tilted to the side while she regards you curiously. “Woah,” you jump back, glaring at her outstretched hand.

“Careful,” Wade warns her breathlessly, still clutching his head. “Flux here has a pathological fear of bald people.”

You nod, “It’s true, you can imagine how strained my relationship with your brother was.” Cassandra circles you, a devious tilt to her lips. Your eyes track her, unwilling to take your gaze off her for even a second. You feel like a rabbit, facing down a fox that’s made its way into your burrow.

“Curious,” she mutters. “I’ve seen quite a few of you down here before. But,” she chuckles and before you can move her hand is shoving its way into your brain. You scream, there’s an agonizing burn as her fingers probe under your eyes and dig through the deepest part of your subconscious. It feels like someone’s taking a shovel and ripping up your worst traumas. “None of them have been so weak.”

Wonderful, even she wants to insult you. You can feel the way she’s plucking through your thoughts, tossing aside the ones she doesn’t like. Images of your childhood are flashing across your vision. You can no longer see the world around you, it’s like every one of your worst memories is being played on a projector.

“Ah,” she clicks her tongue and jerks your neck around until you’re looking at something you’ve tried to forget for years. “Here it is. How easy it would be for me to simply unblock those powers of yours.” She smiles, her face appearing before you and blocking out the bloodshed. “It would make this far more entertaining for me, what do you say?”

Your teeth are clenched so tightly you’re surprised they haven’t cracked yet. It’s hard to get the words out when her fingers are still dancing through your skull. “Fuck you,” you finally spit out. She releases you suddenly, and you surge forward with a gasp, clutching at your skull desperately.

You half expect your brains to begin leaking from your nose and eyes. But nothing happens, despite feeling incredibly violated, everything is still in its proper place. Cassandra walks past you like everything is fine and dandy in the world. “Well, as much as I would love to see those powers of yours in action again, Flux, I’m afraid Alioth must eat.”

Before you can ask what she's talking about there’s a loud rumble. Like thunder cracking through the sky and land, the ground underneath you shakes. Cracks form under your feet and the henchmen around you all start desperately racing for cover.

You turn around, staring wide-eyed at the purple cloud of death and destruction steadily moving across the sky. A face breaks through the clouds, grinning down at you. Purple lightning hits the ground and the villain next to you explodes into nothing but dust.

“Shit!” You shout, turning around and running to try and avoid getting zapped up next. There’s no coming back from this one. Once this monster gets you, not even god could save you.

Suddenly, an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you off your feet. “No time for consent, we’ve got to get the fuck outta here!” Wade shouts in your ear. Logan is standing next to some robot leg, ripping out cords until a jet on the back fires up. Wade leaps onto the boot, wrapping an arm around Logan’s legs as you’re all shot into the sky.

You’d scream if you weren’t trying not to throw up. You hurtle through the sky at speeds that have your skin nearly ripping off your skull. The rocket on the back of the leg starts to sputter out. The flames flickering out and then back to life. It steadily begins to drop until you’re plummeting headfirst towards the ground.

Wade wraps himself around you, tossing himself off the boot so he can brace your fall. You hear and feel nearly all of his bones break under your weight. For a moment it feels like you’re laying on warm jello as you try and catch your breath.

“Nailed it,” he mutters weakly. You’re pretty sure he can’t breathe, a rib having pierced his lung in the fall. A shadow looms over you and you glance up to find Logan glaring down at you. You stare at him apprehensively, half expecting him to unsheathe his claws and just end you right here.

Instead, to your surprise, he holds a hand out. You look at it with suspicion, glaring back up at him. “Fucks sake,” he mutters. He reaches down, roughly grabbing your hand and jerking you to your feet. You feel the warmth of Wade’s blood on your back and grimace.

“Thanks,” you mutter, still not entirely trusting of him.

He purses his lips into a thin line, backing awkwardly away from you. He just nods and starts surveying the land around you. It feels less like trying to figure out where you all landed and more like awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

The whole interaction leaves you feeling odd. “Well, that was as awkward as two virgins on prom night,” Wade loudly announces as he jumps to his feet. You whip around and send him a dirty look but his attention has already been snagged by something else. Lately, you’ve been considering grounding up Adderall and slipping it into his breakfast, you think it might do him some good.

What’s got to be the fugliest dog you’ve ever seen in your life bounds towards Wade. He drops to his knees, ripping off his mask and opening his arms wide to the mutt. You grimace, taking a step back when she starts licking his face. “Oh, that’s just wrong.”

Thankfully dogless, you steal Nicepool’s Honda Odyssey - much to Wade’s chagrin. Logan’s in the front seat, Wade beside him. You’re sitting in the back, rubbing your temples and trying to get rid of the raging migraine you’ve had since Cassandra finger blasted your brain.

You’ve been zoning in and out of the conversation happening in the front seat of the car. But Logan suddenly slams on the brakes and you go hurtling forward. Without even looking at you, both their arms shoot out, blocking you from flying through the windshield.

Your face scrunches up as you look at both their arms, it feels like being saved by an overbearing soccer mom. “Buckle up, princess,” Wade tells you. He shoves you back into your seat and you look between the two men suspiciously.

“Did you just say if?” Logan growls, glaring at Wade. Your face drops, finally realizing what you’d missed.

Wade lets out a weak chuckle, “Slip of the tongue?” Logan growls and the claws come out. Wade raises his hands, “Okay, let’s put a brake on the crazy train. I wasn’t lying it was just an educated,” for the first time in your friendship Wade is actually speechless. You’re shocked by the silence. Until, of course, he runs his mouth again and comes up with the lamest cop-out you’ve ever heard. “It was an educated wish that they could fix your timeline, alright?”

Logan doesn’t give much of a warning except a low growl before he shoves his claws deep into Wade’s thigh. “You motherfucker!”

“Hey!” You shout, jumping forward and ripping Logan’s claws out of Wade’s leg. “Look, we’re trying to save our whole fucking universe. Can you blame him for lying?” You regret opening your mouth pretty much immediately.

You should have just stayed out of this, it wasn’t any of your business. And if they wanted to be two dumbasses and fucking tear each other apart then so be it. But you never should have drawn attention to yourself.

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan shouts at you. It’s so startling, coming from him. You’re still associating him with the man you’d looked up to growing up. Your Wolverine was a hero. He was the reason you wanted to be an X-Man. And they look exactly the same, it’s nearly impossible for you to separate this one from the one you knew.

But it's easier now. Because the man you’d known would never be so cruel and jaded to the world. Not like this. “Why the fuck are you even here? You’re just some watered-down knockoff of a real hero. You are nothing, you’re worth nothing. It’s a fucking joke that you’re alive and the woman I knew is buried six feet deep. If there was anything right in the world you would be in a grave somewhere crawling with maggots.”

Your eyes water without your permission. You don’t know this man. Yet, he has the face of your greatest hero and the man who you’d grown up hearing stories about. It’s like facing everything you’ve ever wanted to be and having it shout your deepest fears and insecurities back at you. He’s just confirming something you’ve known for years. You never deserved the title of being an X-Man. You never deserved the uniform or anything that came with it.

Your breaths are coming short and fast, it feels like your lungs are constricting. You worry you won’t be able to get air in but he doesn’t care. No, he keeps going. “You follow this fucking clown around and you contribute nothing to the world. You’re never gonna save your fucking timeline. You can’t even make a few rocks float.” It’s not the words that hurt you next. It’s the way he says it. “You’re pathetic.”

He spits them at you. There’s venom lacing his tone like he’s seen into you and knows there’s nothing in you to offer. For the first time in a long time, you feel seen and you hate it. Because he’s looking past the sarcasm and the faux confidence you carry yourself with.

He sees the empty husk of a woman you truly are and he’s forcing you to face it with him. It causes you physical pain, to know that everything you’ve ever feared about yourself is true. You don’t have anything to say to him, you can’t.

Your lips tremble and you feel so fucking small. You can hear your parent's voices in your head, screaming at you and wishing you were never born. They’d rather have a stillborn than a fucked up mutant for a daughter. You see the way even other kids at the school would hide from you. You were made wrong, even as a mutant you were never truly accepted.

Logan’s face drops ever so slightly at the prolonged silence in the car. Even Wade isn’t speaking, he’s just staring at you both. “I,” he starts, but Wade cuts him off.

“I’m gonna hurt you now.” Wade’s never been one to let people run over you, even when you might just let yourself fall into the background. You shouldn’t be surprised when he draws a knife and stabs it into Logan’s throat.

But the arterial spray that follows catches you off guard and suddenly your tears are dried. Instead, you’re throwing open the car door and diving out before one of them crushes you. You make it out of the car just in time, Logan having thrown Wade right where you had been sitting.

Music starts up in the car as a result of their fighting. Divorced dad rock and the sounds of their, borderline, sexual grunting are your soundtrack for the rest of the night. You curl up at the base of a tree, waiting for them to be done with each other.

Logan’s words continue to echo through your head. And the longer you linger on what he said the angrier you get. Not necessarily at him, but at yourself. You’ve let yourself linger in self-pity and wallow in regret for so long.

You look in the mirror and you no longer recognize yourself. He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it, you’re a fucking joke. You toss your head back, slamming it against the trunk of the tree hard enough for it to hurt.

There’s this manic, cloying feeling tugging at your chest. It’s like someone’s sitting on your ribs, crushing you until you can’t breathe anymore. You keep throwing your head back, letting the pain distract you until you feel warm blood leaking down the back of your scalp.

“Shit,” you hiss, hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull. You wince when you feel the split in your skin. The blood leaks over the tips of your fingers, running through the cracks of your palm.

You force yourself to relax, to move your head away from the tree. As you go to stand up, possibly to get Wade and Logan to quit their fighting, you notice something odd. The air around you is still, you can no longer hear them grunting or groaning as they rock the Honda.

Leaves are suspended in the air. They’re not trembling from the breeze, they’re completely frozen. You take a step forward and gasp when you hit something solid. The air in front of you has solidified somehow.

The realization dawns on you slowly but surely. This is you, you’ve done this. Manipulated everything around you on an atomic level. You’ve turned something you shouldn’t be able to feel into something you can touch. Frozen the world around you. Whatever Cassandra had done inside your head, it had knocked something loose.

You haven’t had this wide a range of control for years. Any attempt to do something like this has been met with nosebleeds and long periods of blacking out. Elation fills you, the hurt from earlier is nearly gone.

You glance through the wall of air and try to see if you can still see the Odyssey. To your horror, it’s gone. You wave your hands and the air returns to normal. The leaves drift back to the forest floor and you run back to where you’d left the two men.

There are tire tracks dug deep into the mud. You know Wade wouldn’t willingly leave you behind, not here. You don’t know if Logan’s just kidnapped him or if someone else has. Whoever was driving was clearly in a rush to get out of here.

You must have missed it all while you were having your meltdown. “Fuck,” you shout, your voice echoing into the branches above. You take in a deep breath and start walking. Hopefully, you can catch up to them before whoever has them does serious damage.

You make it to a weird cave/hideout area. The Odyssey is parked outside and when you peek through the broken windows you find the interior completely destroyed. There’s blood soaking through every surface, anything and everything has been smashed and bent the wrong way.

You don’t even know if this is from Wade and Logan or whoever had snatched them. Shaking your head you back up and slink towards the entrance of the den. You can hear shouting inside, it sounds like Wade, but you can’t make out what he’s saying.

You haven’t seen action for a long time. At least not any that you could actually contribute to. It feels a bit like riding a bike. You’d practiced on your way here, making things around you float or eradicating a few trees into nothing but dust in the wind. But this is different.

Your friend (and Logan) are inside, possibly being tortured. Maybe even dead. Though, you seriously doubt the universe is going to be that nice to you. You let the energy build in your arms, it’s like a warm tingling feeling. It shoots down to the palms of your hands until you feel static in the air.

You take a step inside and spot three people. Each of them is decked out in weapons. One of them turns and spots you. “Who is-”

You don’t let him finish, throwing your hands out and slamming them all into the wall so hard the whole interior shakes. Dirt rains down from the ceilings while their faces contort in pain. You run inside, spotting Logan and Wade.

You shoot Wade a big grin but he throws his hands up and shouts, “Read the fucking room!” Your brows furrow and he points emphatically at the people you’re holding, “Good guys!”

“Oh shit,” you release them immediately, a guilty look on your face. “I am so sorry.” Logan cackles in the back, doubled over laughing while the three people in front of you brush themselves off.

You don’t want to be out here with him, but it’s better than being in that cave with the others. Laura walks past you, sending you an uneasy smile. You’d noticed her sitting beside Logan and decided they probably needed a few moments to themselves.

They were finished now, though, and he had the only bottle of liquor left in the cave with him. You trudge over to him, leaves crunching under your boots. Elektra, after that horrific introduction, had given you a uniform a different Flux had left behind.

She was long gone, killed by Cassandra years ago, but she’d conveniently been your exact size. The uniform is nearly identical to the one you have buried under your bed. Black leather with a dark purple X going across your chest and matching purple seams. You’d never wanted something ridiculously flashy. Just something that people would see and associate with the X-Men.

Because that’s all you’d ever wanted to be; a hero. It feels like a pipe dream now. If your pajamas weren’t so destroyed you would have just stayed in them. You don’t feel like you deserve this uniform, not when the woman who’d worn it before you had actually been a hero in her timeline.

“Don’t want company,” Logan snarks, without even looking back to see who’s coming up to him.

You take a seat on the lawn chair closest to him and snatch the bottle of whiskey from his hands. “Good,” you tilt your head back, downing as much as possible. It burns the whole way and you revel in the slight tickle in the back of your throat.

“Alright,” Logan mutters. He gently takes the bottle back from you, giving you an aggrieved look when he sees just how much you’ve stolen. He looks back into the fire and sighs, “Look, I’m not interested in hearing about your sob story or why you’re suddenly drinking all my liquor-”

“Gambit’s liquor,” you interrupt, not bothering to look at him. “And I’m not looking to dump my sob story on your lap. I just want to sit in silence and that’s impossible because Wade hasn’t stopped running his mouth since we got here.”

He looks a little surprised by the brusque way you dismiss him, “Alright,” he mutters. He takes another swig from the bottle and you both stare silently into the fire. It’s like that for a while, you don’t bother keeping track of time.

All you hear is the crackling of the flames. All you can feel is the way your eyes burn from staring into the fire and watching sparks pop off the logs for too long. The breeze rustles the trees, makes the leaves shake free and dance around the logs of the fire.

He breaks the silence first, to your chagrin. “About what I said,” he clears his throat uncomfortably, still refusing to look at you, “back in the car.”

“Don’t,” you snap, voice low. “Just,” you let out a long breath and shake your head. You finally look over and meet his eyes. He does actually look sorry, but you don’t want to hear it. “Just don’t, I deserved it all right.”

“No, no you didn’t.” You open your mouth to argue but he gives you a firm look that has your jaw snapping shut. “I was wrong, I don’t know you. And if my Flux had ever heard me talking to you like that she would have melted my fucking spine.” He laughs a little and you feel your lips twitch up slightly. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look anything but angry.

Curiosity loosens your tongue and knocks you out of the dazed stupor you’ve been in. “What was she like?” You ask, tone earnest. “Your Flux, I mean, you make her sound so amazing. I just can’t,” you trail off, but the look on his face tells you he understands your unspoken words. I just can’t see myself as a real hero.

He groans and leans back on the log he’s resting on. He stretches his legs out in front of him, the liquor bottle placed on the forest floor. You’re surprised, you figured the thing was glued to his hand.

“Well,” he reaches up and scratches at the scruff of his chin, a wry grin on his face. “She was always giving me shit, never let me get away with anything.” You unconsciously lean forward, drawn into the endearing way he begins to describe this other version of you.

It’s not ridiculous to assume this variant meant something to him. He’s got a shine to his eye that you haven’t seen in the whole time you’ve been together. His gaze has been empty, closed off to anything and everything. But now, his eyes are crinkling at the corners, there’s an easy smile on his face that you can’t miss.

“Ah, she was fucking feisty. And strong, she was so strong. She was always a better hero than I was. She lived for that shit,” he trails off and shakes his head. You can see you’re losing him and you don’t want this to end. You’re in your own little bubble right now, getting to pretend there’s a version of you out there somewhere that actually lived up to her potential.

“Her powers,” you blurt out, desperate for something to stop him from retreating back into his mind. “Did she have, um, good control over them?”

Logan nods, eyes darting down to the bottle of whiskey before flickering back up to meet your gaze again. “Yeah, Charles trained her, she was right up there with Jean. She could have,” he stops and suddenly you feel guilty for making him talk about this. You can see the tears in the corner of his eyes, the way the whites of them go red. “She could have been great.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t mean to pry.” But you did. You were being selfish and forcing him to talk about it even though you knew it would hurt him.

“Look, kid, she would have liked you. I’ll tell you that much,” he says reluctantly. Like the words hurt to force out. You suppose he isn’t used to being genuine with anyone.

You shake your head and look down at your hands. “I appreciate the thought, but I doubt it.”

Logan grabs the bottle again, gulping it down like it's water. His words have a slight slur to them as he speaks again. “I think I would know, bub. ‘Sides, you made it into the X-Men, tells me what I need to know.”

You scoff and fix him with a sardonic look, he raises his brows in question and you roll your eyes. “They’ll take fucking anybody. And I still wasn’t good enough for them.”

Logan shakes his head and frowns. “If what I saw in there,” he points back to the den and you feel your cheeks warm as you remember what you’d done, “is any indication, then I’m sure you were plenty good.”

You lean towards him, elbows braced on your knees. He follows suit, leaning so close you almost want to back up. The proximity flusters you slightly but you shake the feeling off. “You don’t even know me and the first real thing you said to me was that I’d be more useful as fertilizer.”

He sighs, face screwing up at your harsh words. He runs a hand over his cheeks and groans, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You lean back in your chair and idly twirl your hand through the air. The leaves around you lift up and flutter through the air above your head. Logan watches and you turn back to him, waiting until his eyes meet yours to speak again. “Yes, you did. And you were right. I’m fucking useless, powers or not.” The leaves drop, a few fluttering into the fire. “We’re irrelevant, Wolverine, two washed-up X-Men who never looked good in the uniform.”

There’s a twinge of hurt on his face but you can’t make yourself feel bad about it. Since he’s such a fan of brutal truth, you’re sure he can handle it.

You watch as the leaves curl up at the corners, the fire burning them straight through the middle. You get to your feet and move past him. You’re nearly back to the den when he calls, “The suit looks right on you,” over his shoulder.

You pause at the threshold of the door. He’s already drinking again, staring into the fire and watching it burn. You take a few steps towards him, staring at his broad back. “What happened to her, your me?”

Logan looks down at his hands, his ring finger specifically. You wonder at the significance of the movement, what exactly you’d meant to him. “She married me,” he mutters, voice cold and closed off again.

“Goodnight, Logan,” you whisper, finally walking inside the den.

You miss the small goodnight he sends back to you, finally turning around only to watch you leave.

There had been a very clear plan set in place. Get Juggernaut’s helmet, put it on Cassandra, and then kill that psychotic bitch. Which is why you’re so confused when you’re standing knee-deep in guts and watching Logan and Wade leap through a portal above you.

You don’t have time to feel angry or even hurt that they left without you. Laura is grabbing your arm and you’re both running for your life, trying to escape Alioth again. You run into Cassandra’s lair ducking into one of the rooms and dragging Laura with you.

You’re both holding your breaths and praying that he’s sated by the others still outside. After a few minutes, the cracks of thunder stop and you risk peeking your head outside. The clouds have retreated back to their usual spot in the middle of the void.

You take in the carnage of Cassandra’s evil lair. Most everybody is dead. You only have to skirt around a few people to get back to the Odyssey.

You throw yourself in the driver’s seat and sink back against the bloodstained cushions. You let out a relieved breath and look at Laura, “What do you do to entertain yourself around here?”

You acclimated to the idea of being stuck in the void pretty quickly. There wasn’t exactly a lot waiting for you back home. Besides, Laura was nice enough. You had food, beer, and company. You didn’t really need much else.

You’re pretty sure if you linger too long on the thought that Wade left you behind you’ll fall into a depression that you’re never going to be able to claw your way out of. So, you forced a smile on your face and played cards. Nothing else to do but wait to die of old age or for Alioth to kill you.

Of course, your plans had to be ruined. There was an odd rush of air against your back and then a slight whoosh. Laura glanced over your shoulders and her brows furrowed, you turned around to find three armored men waiting behind you.

“Flux,” the man glanced from you to Laura, “X-23?”

“Laura,” you both correct at the same time.

The man gives an aggrieved sigh and holds his arm out, “Come with me, please.”

You stand up, energy tingling in the palms of your hands while you regard them suspiciously. Laura comes up behind you, claws out and glaring at them. “Why should we?” You demand.

Barely a second later you hear the most insufferable voice in the world. “Hiya, peanut!”

“Wade,” you hiss. You follow the armored men through an oddly shaped portal and find Wade standing beside a shirtless Logan, smiling proudly at you. “You fucking left me,” you hold up your hands and his eyes widen.

His hands quickly come up, trying to assuage you, “Hold on now-”

You throw him back, his body hurtling into a nearby building and caving in the wall. Logan watches it happen with a small smile, “Been wanting to do that for a while.”

Once Wade had recovered he filled you in on everything that happened. TVA did a general clean up and then you were standing in front of your apartment door, keys in hand like nothing had happened.

It was so bizarre, going from a mission to save your timeline and then you’re expected to just go about your life. You stay standing in that hallway for you don’t know how long before you hear someone behind you.

You jump and drop your keys when Logan clears his throat. “Shit,” you hiss, whirling around and glaring at him while your heart races. He chuckles and bends over to grab your keys for you.

“Sorry,” he mutters. This is the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him, covered in blood and in a borrowed shirt. “Uh, Wade doesn’t have enough room at his place. Told me I should come over here.”

You look over his shoulder and see Wade peeking his head out of his doorway. He catches your eye, sending you a thumbs up. You almost smile but then he makes a phallic gesture with his hands, pointing at Logan and humping the air. You glare at him and he quickly backs into his apartment, but not before sending you one last encouraging shit-eating grin.

You look back at Logan and he’s waiting expectantly for your answer. “Yeah,” you take your keys from him and unlock the door. “I’ve got a spare room but there’s no bed in it right now.” Your eyes widen when you see the mess that is your apartment.

You quickly rush through, picking up empty take-out boxes and dirty laundry and shoving them into your room. He’s smiling at you when you come back and it's slightly off-putting. “Um,” you gesture towards the couch awkwardly. “You can take the sofa tonight and we’ll look at setting you up with something more permanent tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” he hovers by the armrest and you engage in the longest stare-off of your life. Neither of you says anything for a few suffocating moments before he gestures at himself. “Shower?”

“Oh,” you snap out of your stupor and nod your head. “Yeah, right, of course.” You show him down the hall, “Here. I’ll go get you a towel.”

You rush towards your linen closet, leaving him behind in your bathroom. You grab a few clean towels and then figure he might want some clothes as well. You grab some pajamas that Wade’s left over when he’s crashed before. They’ll probably be a bit tighter on Logan, but you wouldn’t mind seeing that.

You walk back to the bathroom and the thought of knocking doesn’t even run through your head. It should, honestly, but you’re already so thrown off by him even being here. You walk in and immediately gasp and drop the towels.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’s standing naked before you. Clothes discarded on the floor behind him. Everything on perfect display. Your eyes land on his abs, noticing a few prominent veins leading down-

You cover your face and turn around. “Sorry,” you mutter again. God, you’re such an idiot. You still haven’t even left. You’d just been shamelessly ogling the man naked and you don’t even have the decency to walk out.

You really can’t help it though. It’s been such a clusterfuck, the last 72 hours. Your brain is fried and Wade’s little show hasn’t helped you at all.

You hear Logan laugh behind you. “It’s alright,” he mutters. Something warm ghosts across your arm and you jump slightly. His hand firmly grasps your bicep, gently tugging your palms away from your face.

You risk a glance over your shoulder and nearly gasp at how close he’s gotten. He's towering over you, something in his face you can’t place. “It’s alright,” he whispers again and you find yourself nodding without really thinking.

He’s got both hands on your arms now, trailing up and down. The touch is so featherlight you can barely feel it at all. You don’t even realize how he’s gently coaxing you closer until you trip on the towels at your feet.

You startle, looking down at them and moving to kick them aside. But he stops you, his finger nudging your chip up so you’ll look at him again. There is such blatant want painted across his face that it makes your heart skip a beat. Your breath catches in your throat when he wraps an arm around your waist and drags you closer.

You can feel all of him. You can feel just how much he wants you. It catches you off guard, this sudden display of attraction. You don’t know where it’s coming from, what’s brought it on. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’ve been so lonely for so long. You just want to bask in the fact that he looks absolutely starved for you.

No man has ever looked at you with such heartbreakingly yearning eyes - like he’s been looking for you his whole life. He dips down, lips ghosting gently over yours. Your breaths mingle together, you can nearly taste him.

It’s unclear which one of you moves first, who pushes closer to the other. But it doesn’t matter because the second you put real pressure behind the kiss he’s all over you. One of his hands drifts down to your ass, squeezing the flesh there and dragging you closer, grinding his hips into yours.

You moan at the feeling, your arms wrap around his neck and you press yourself even closer. He groans against your lips at the first swipe of your tongue. You part with a gasp when he picks you up, practically tossing you onto your sink. Your legs spread instinctually, making room for him as he slots himself between them.

It’s odd, feeling so vulnerable even when he’s the one who's completely naked. It still feels like he’s holding all the power.

His lips are moving frantically over yours like he’s terrified you’re going to disappear the second he lets go. You can taste something desperate on his tongue. Something deeply rooted inside him that you can’t identify.

One of your hands drifts from his neck, trailing over the muscles of his chest. Your fingers carve a path down his abs, relishing in how muscular he feels under your palm. Your hand reaches his pelvis, nearly wrapped around him when he jumps back.

He grabs your wrist in a grip so tight you know there’s going to be a bruise. A pained gasp slips out and he releases you immediately. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “Sorry, I can’t.” He won’t look at you now, backing up towards the shower and shaking his head. “This was a bad idea, I can’t do this.”

You shake your head, slipping off the sink and hiding your bruised wrist behind your back. “No, sorry, I shouldn’t have moved so fast.”

You feel too ashamed to meet his eye. He kissed you but you feel like you’ve forced yourself on him somehow. It’s a nauseating feeling and you want nothing more than to run back to your room and hide.

He takes a step towards you, something pained on his face. “Kid-”

You just shake your head, step out of the bathroom, and grab the handle of the door. “Sorry,” you whisper again, closing the door behind you. You lean against the cool wood, trying to catch your breath.

Your hand drifts up to your lips, still tingling from how desperately he’d kissed you. It doesn’t make any sense. He came on to you, he threw you up on the sink, and made out with you more passionately than any man ever has before. So why are you the one who feels dirty?

You rush down the hall and into your room, slamming the door behind you. You dive under your covers, closing your eyes even though you know you won’t sleep. No, your shoulders are tensed up to your ears and your bones are vibrating with an energy you need to release.

You’re completely tuned into the other person lurking in your apartment. You can hear as he starts the shower, how he talks quietly to himself sometimes. Then when he gets out you can perfectly picture what he looks like while he’s getting dressed and it only makes you feel worse.

You listen as he leaves the bathroom and pauses in the hall. You can see it in your mind’s eye, how he stares at your door. He walks towards it and lingers for a minute before cussing quietly and heading back into the living room.

You suddenly remember that you didn’t lay sheets out on the couch for him. You feel guilty, but there’s not one part of you that will be dragged from this bed and face him. Not now, at least.

He’s up for a little while longer, getting water. Turning the TV on and off. Rooting through your cabinets looking for booze you know you don’t have. Finally, he settles on the couch. You’re awake for another hour, unable to relax until you’re completely sure he’s asleep. Even as you drift off and your body finally relaxes your mind doesn’t. You keep seeing that stricken look on his face and it makes you sick to your stomach.

It’s the smell of pancakes that wakes you up. You’re not sure when you finally managed to pass out last night but you know it was late. Which is why you’re so pissed off that you’re being forced to get up at seven in the morning.

You’re used to being able to sleep in a lot later than that. You’re already in a pissy mood from last night and it only gets worse as you trudge around your room getting ready. You’ve never been more thankful to have snagged one of the rare two-bathroom apartments in the building.

You don’t want to have to share a bathroom with Logan. You don’t even want to use the other one after what happened last night. It’s too embarrassing and painful to think about. The emotional whiplash of feeling so desired and then absolutely hideous is making your head spin.

You’re sure it was all just a problem on his end, but it really doesn’t make you feel any better. When you can’t stall any longer, and you know that Logan has heard you get up, you slip quietly out of your room.

The curtains in your living room are open and he’s in the kitchen fucking around with your stove. The news is playing quietly on the TV and you’re astounded about how little he’s done and how much more homely your apartment feels.

It’s never really been home to you. Not after you were booted from the X-Men. But he’s somehow made it ten times cozier than it ever has been. You almost resent him a little for it.

“Morning,” he grumbles from the kitchen. “Coffee,” he motions behind him and you see a steaming cup already waiting for you. You silently slip behind him, grabbing the creamer from the fridge and pouring it until you’re sure it’s sweet enough to not actually taste the coffee.

“Thanks,” you mutter, moving to sit at the table. You keep your eyes trained on the TV, pretending to pay attention to the news so you don’t have to look at him. He bores his eyes into the side of your head until you feel like you’re going to have holes in your temple.

When you can’t take it anymore you finally look over at him. He doesn’t smile, his face barely even twitches, he just looks back to his pan and continues scrambling some eggs. “Didn’t know you cooked,” you offer up weakly, already growing anxious from the silence.

It feels wrong, to be walking on eggshells in your own apartment. He grunts and shrugs, “Not really cooking. You had the mix in your pantry,” he tells you brusquely. His tone borders on rude and you scoff.

The audacity of this man to have an attitude with you in your apartment. He was the one who threw a hissy fit last night. You roll your eyes and go back to the news, all it tells you is that the world is just as depressing as the inside of your apartment is right now.

You notice out of the corner of your eye the way his shoulders slump forward. He leans against the oven, seeming not to care if he burns himself. You suppose it doesn’t matter, he’d just heal. “Sorry,” he mutters. It sounds like it pains him to say the words.

“Whatever,” you mumble under your breath. You take a long sip of your coffee, slurping a little so you have something to fill the atmosphere.

He puts some food on a plate and brings it over to the table for you. You usually don’t eat breakfast, preferring to just skip the meal and eat a bigger lunch. But it feels too bitchy to say that to him, so you just accept the food with a strained smile. “Thanks.”

He sits across from you, glaring down at your table like it insulted him. You drag your fork against the plate, letting the scrape of metal against porcelain drown out your worries. Finally, he looks at you. “Look, about last night.”

You tense up. You want to interrupt him, to stop him from explaining. You know it’s just going to hurt your feelings, whatever he says. Whether he tells you it was a mistake or he just realized he’s not attracted to you, either way, you’re fucked. But, it’s also kept you up all night so you just shut your mouth and let him speak.

You keep your gaze trained on your plate, unable to fully face him. He lets out a long sigh and clenches his fork so tight you hear the metal bend. He drops it to the table and clenches and unclenches his fists a few times.

“I just couldn’t kiss you, not when I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons.”

Your brows furrow in confusion and you finally look up at him. “What?” You demand, disbelief coloring your voice.

His eyes are boring into yours, an intensity behind the stare that leaves you feeling a little shaken. “You look like her,” he whispers, and the grief is so thick in his voice it makes your throat tighten. He pauses briefly before continuing. “There are,” he clears his throat like he’s trying not to cry. It makes you lean back in your chair, arms crossed over your stomach uncomfortably.

“There are a few differences, obviously. You’re not a carbon copy. But your mannerisms, your attitudes, you’re so similar. And I,” he shakes his head and gives you one of the most genuinely apologetic looks you’ve ever received. You can tell he really does feel guilty for projecting on you but it doesn’t make you feel any less uncomfortable. “And I just wasn’t doing that for the right reasons. I was pretending you were her and that’s just not fair to you.”

You lean your elbows on the table, head falling into your hands. You let out a rough sigh and groan in irritation. You knew the reason would hurt but you didn’t think it would be this bad. You feel gross, icky under your skin knowing that he was pretending you were another version of yourself. The version of yourself you’ve always wanted to be; the hero.

But you also feel such a deep sadness and sympathy for him. He’d briefly mentioned that he was married to this other you. You can’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like, to see your dead wife’s face staring at you and she doesn’t even know you.

“I,” you don’t even know where to begin. You struggle to say anything for a minute and you both just stew in the tense silence. You take in a deep breath and look up at him. You do what you always do, forcing a smile and shrugging it off. “I appreciate the honesty, really.” You stand up, bringing your still-full plate into the kitchen and busying yourself with cleaning up.

“Clearly,” you snap, your voice crueler than it should be, “It was a mistake. We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t happen again, right?”

Logan sits silently at the table. He looks like there’s more he wants to say but you don’t give him the chance. You can’t take it. You finally thought someone had wanted you for you, flaws and all. You’re a fucking idiot, he barely even knows you. Whatever connection you thought was there was just brought about by your own loneliness.

“I gotta get ready for work,” you tell his back because he isn’t looking at you now.

He nods, scraping his fork across the plate as he aggressively cuts into his food. “Right.” You wait for him to say anything else but he doesn’t.

You walk past him and head back to your room. You don’t even have a job, you don’t have to work. But you still grab your purse and head out of the apartment. Pretending you do just so you don’t have to look at him anymore.

You really should have let him finish, though. You should have let him keep talking to you. Let him explain how as much as he sees her in you, that’s not why he wants you. He wants you for you. Because as similar as you can be, you’re still a completely different person from who his late wife was. You’re someone strong and incredible and he genuinely wants you. But he can never really let himself be happy.

It takes a few days for you both to ease up around the other. The incident in the bathroom is never brought up again. You take him shopping for clothes after a few days. It feels wrong to keep giving him Wade’s hand-me-downs. You would have had your friend take him, but you don’t trust Wade’s sense of fashion at all.

After that and getting lunch together while you were out shopping things got a little easier. You bought him a bed for the spare room because you felt guilty seeing him all cramped up on your tiny couch.

You don’t initiate any physical contact with each other. The closest you’d gotten was your hands brushing when you both reached for some popcorn at the same time on movie night. But you hadn’t really minded that bad.

Eventually, he starts to feel like a real roommate and a friend. He lets little pieces of himself slip out. Slowly opens up about his past. You haven’t made any existential discoveries of course. But he tells you stories of what his X-Men were like.

You try not to dance around the topic of his wife, you don’t want him to think you’re avoiding asking about her. But you also don’t want him to think you’re obsessed with discussing her.

He’s right, you two weren’t carbon copies of each other at all. You might share a few things in common but the more both you and Logan learn about each other, the more clear it is how different you both are from your variants.

Sometimes you think he looks at you like he’s really seeing you, not her. But you can never be sure and you don’t want to put much strength behind the thought in case you’re wrong. You hate the idea that when you’re thinking of nothing but him, he’s just seeing her reflection on your face.

There’s nothing you can do about it but it doesn’t stop the hurt.

Tonight, at Wade’s suggestion, you’re both up on the roof waiting for a meteor shower that you’re ninety percent sure is never going to happen. You’re also one hundred percent sure that Wade just tricked you out of your apartment so he could have sex in it. He and Vanessa don’t really get a lot of time alone with Blind Al around. You’re already mentally preparing for the absolute fuck storm you’re going to have to clean up after.

There’s a light nudge on your shoulder and you glance over at Logan. He’s got the whiskey bottle outstretched towards you and you take it from him with a smile. One thing about being his roommate, your alcohol tolerance has skyrocketed. His liver might regenerate, but you’re pretty sure if you keep going down this route yours will give out in a few months.

“Think this is actually going to happen?” You ask, pointing up toward the clear night sky.

Logan chuckles and shakes his head. He stretches out in your flimsy lawn chair and you try not to let your gaze be drawn to the sliver of skin peeking out from his shirt. “Probably not, but I don’t mind being out here.”

There’s an unspoken, with you, that makes you smile. You meet his gaze, his eyes soft as he watches you. “Me either.” You lean back in your chair, pulling your legs up onto the seat and huddling under your blanket. “It’s peaceful.”

You drink together in silence for a little while longer. Then you have to tap out, you don’t want your brain getting too foggy. Tonight is nice, you want to remember it tomorrow. To your surprise, he caps the bottle and places it to the side. You don’t mention it but you do feel like you’ve noticed he’s been drinking a little less. The dark circles under his eyes seem to be easing away ever so slightly.

He looks over at you with an odd light in his eyes. You shift uncomfortably under his stare when it lasts a little longer than it usually does. You chuckle awkwardly, “Do I have something on my face?”

There’s a soft uptick to his lips as he shakes his head. “No,” he mutters, looking back out at the night. “You mind if I ask you something?”

Ominous, but whatever. “Sure.”

He still doesn’t look at you and you worry slightly about whatever it is he’s going to ask. He doesn’t ease you into it all, “Wade said your brain was broken?” A laugh springs out of your throat from how brusque that was. He rolls his eyes. “Fuckin’ idiot mentioned it in the void, been wonderin’ about it.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him. You’re relaxed enough that you don’t mind answering. You don’t want to pop the soft bubble you’ve managed to create around each other. “Here,” you hold your hand out for the whiskey bottle. He gives you an apprehensive look before handing it over.

You unscrew the cap, “This,” you say and point your hand at the glass. The liquid inside lifts into the air and you freeze it before dropping it back into the bottle with a splash, a simple little party trick. “This used to be enough to put me in a coma for two days. That’s what he meant. Something happened to me and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

Logan’s eyes widen and he shakes his head in disbelief. You laugh a little, “I assume your wife never had problems like that?”

There’s always a fond smile when you mention his wife. Whether the memory is bittersweet or not. “She wasn’t perfect, much as I thought so. When she used her powers too much she,” he trails off and looks down at the floor. You frown, ducking your head down so you can catch his gaze.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” you promise quietly.

But he shakes his head and gives you a weak, tight-lipped smile. “No, I want to. And I don’t want you to think you’re the only Flux who struggled. When she used her powers too much she would deteriorate. Parts of her would just disappear, I don’t even know how to describe it. They were destroying her from the inside out.”

You let out a low whistle, eyes widening slightly. “Well, maybe I didn't get the short end of the stick after all.” It’s quiet and for a moment you worry your humor was ill-timed.

But he lets out a rough laugh, “No, I guess not.” He takes in a deep breath before looking back up at you. There’s no distant sadness in his eyes like there usually is when you bring her up. It seems to only be a familiar ache now, rather than something fresh and bleeding. “But what happened to you? Why couldn’t you use your powers?”

“Oh,” you look down at your lap, picking at the strings of your pants. It would be unfair to have him talk about his wife and then wimp out when it was your turn.

“Um, There was this mission. A bunch of kids, mutants, were being held in this warehouse. It was actually pretty normal, just go in, retrieve them, and bring them back to safety. I must have done a dozen of these before, but, I don’t know. Something was this different this time around.”

You can still hear them screaming. In your mind, you hear the way they cried for help. And you see the look on your faces when they realize you can’t save them every time you go to sleep.

You suck in a sharp breath and almost jump when his hand lands on yours. It’s gentle, he’s barely even touching you and he’s not even acknowledging what he’s doing. But you take his hand in yours and squeeze, it’s nice, grounding.

“Long story short, they were heavily guarded and I was pretty drained from fighting off the guards. My powers were practically gone by the time we could even get to the kids. And, I don’t know, something must have gotten knocked over or hit the wrong way because smoke was filling the place and everything was on fire. I couldn’t see anything, couldn’t breathe, and the kids were blocked off. There was nothing we could do to get to them. Everyone kept screaming at me, telling me to just use my abilities and get them out of there. I couldn’t,” your voice gets thick and you look anywhere but at him. “I,” your mouth hangs open and you don’t know what you could possibly say.

There’s no excuse for what happened. “I just couldn’t,” you whisper. You sniffle and your eyes flutter rapidly, trying to stop any tears from coming. “Hadn’t been able to use my powers since then. Trauma block or something, I guess,” you dismiss yourself flippantly and shrug.

Logan just squeezes your hand again. He doesn’t seem to know what to say to comfort you and you’re honestly grateful for the silence. You get so sick of people telling you there was nothing you could have done. Or that the others should have helped you. Because that’s not a fucking excuse. There’s no fixing what happened, no giving those parents their children back. You fucked up and you don’t appreciate people giving you cop-outs.

You keep your gaze trained steadily on the ground, eyes going blurry while you try to slip into the back of your mind. You don’t get the chance, though. Logan is kneeling in front of you, hands slipping up your arms to cup your face.

He forces you to look at him, to stay present in the moment with him. “You fucked up,” he tells you. It's so shocking that you can’t help but let out a loud wet laugh. You sniffle and he grins, wiping the tears out from under your eyes. His grip on your cheeks tightens and he makes sure you’re listening as he speaks, “You fucked up, kid. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t try your fucking hardest. And it doesn’t erase all the people you did help.”

Your eyes search him, trying to find any kernel of untruth. Trying to prove to yourself that this isn’t real. That he isn’t real. You don’t deserve this moment of such unwavering trust and faith. This is meant for someone else, for someone who deserves good things in life.

You’ve never truly believed you deserved happiness or peace like this. But right now you don’t care because he is saying everything you’ve ever wanted to hear. And he actually means it.

Your hand drifts up, covering his and tilting your head to press a gentle kiss to his palm. It’s tentative, a test, a way to give him an out if doesn’t want this. His grip on you tightens for half a second before he shoots forward and claims your lips with his own.

It escalates quickly. You practically melt off your chair, straddling his lap while he leans back on the ground. Your hands tug at his hair while he moves desperately over your body. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to do, where he wants to touch you.

You love how fully his hands engulf you, the tight way they cradle you to his chest. You’ve never felt more secure in someone’s arms than you do right now. He’s got you, and he wants you. For you this time, you can tell. You can tell from the way he holds you that this isn’t a desperation born from grief. It’s something else, something you’re not ready to identify yet.

His tongue laves across the seam of your lips, silently asking permission. You smile against the kiss, parting your lips and deepening it. He licks into you, tasting you with a low grunt in the back of his throat. You feel your hips start to move of their own volition. Gently grinding down against his lap. You moan when you feel just how bad he wants you.

You lean back, parting from the kiss and pressing a finger to his chest to keep from following. You chuckle at his eagerness, grinding your hips down again and watching the way he thrusts up to meet your movement. “Didn’t know I was such a good kisser,” you tease.

But he doesn’t return the joke or play along. His face falls slightly and he pulls further away from you, the look on his face distant. “What?” You whisper. “Do I have bad breath?” You joke, trying to keep the mood light.

He shakes his head and runs a tired hand over his face. “No,” he mutters. He repeats the word more firmly and finally meets your gaze. “I think I need to take this slow, just because of…”

He trails off but you know what he means. His wife. You don’t know if he’s still projecting her onto you, you felt so sure he wasn’t earlier. But if every time you kiss he’s gonna pull back you’re not sure that you can do this. “Of course,” you mutter with a bite to your voice. It’s hard not to feel a little rejected every time he acts like this.

You move to get off his lap but his hands clamp down on your hips and he shakes his head again. “You don’t have to get up.”

You hesitate, thighs still hovering over his. You should get up and put as much space between you as possible. But he’s so warm and you want to be held for a little while more. You nod and he looks relieved. You lean back down, pressing your chest against his and letting your head rest in the crook of his neck.

He wraps a heavy arm around your back, keeping you close while the other reaches up to stroke your hair. It makes you feel small, in a good way. Like you can just relax and he’ll take care of you.

“Goddamn,” he laughs a little and you sit up. He nods to the sky above and you turn around, gasping.

“Fuck,” you whisper, “he wasn’t lying.” For once, Wade was telling the truth. Above you, it looks like the sky is falling. Glittering stars dart across the sky, streaks of blue following behind them. You grin, “It’s so beautiful.”

Logan keeps his eyes on you and nods, “Yeah, it is.”

“Ah, look, my favorite fuck buddies.”

”Wade,” you greet tightly. You shove the bottle of wine you brought into his chest and he stumbles back. “Just let us in, you freak.”

He frowns, placing a hand over his heart. “You know, it really hurts when you talk like that. I think we all need to hold hands and have a good old-fashioned jerk circle.”

You roll your eyes and flick his thick forehead. “It’s share circle, dumbass.”

”Not the way I do it,” he moves to the side and lets you both in. “Well, mi casa es su casa, especially since Vanessa and I had rockin’ sex in your bed last week.”

He walks off before you can hit him or even begin to respond to that. “I fucking knew it,” you hiss, glaring at his stupid Hawaiian shirt while he mingles with the rest of the people at the party.

Logan chuckles behind you, “How did you two ever become friends?”

You roll your eyes and turn to face him. “I moved in next door,” you respond dryly. “This was a nonconsensual friendship because god hates me, clearly.” You shrug your jacket off and he takes it from you, hanging it up on the hook by the door. He comes back, slinging an arm around your shoulder, and leading you towards the kitchen.

You hear Wade laughing loudly in the background and he grunts, “I’m gonna need a drink for this,” he mutters. You nod your head in agreement. You don’t get very far, though, because without any warning Wade is in front of you. He’s got his ridiculous dog in his arms and shoves her in your face. You grimace and jump back. Logan abandons you and you narrow your eyes at his retreating back. Traitor

Wade says your name with disappointment. “You know, Mary Puppins is a part of my life now. As my best friend, you need to bond with her. I can’t have you two fighting like this.” He shoves the dog into your arms without any warning and you flinch away from her wandering tongue.

“If this thing licks me, I’m putting her down,” you warn him gravely.

He gasps and snatches her back. “You are no longer welcome in my home,” he tells you with a snotty huff. You roll your eyes and watch him go. When he’s out of sight your lips curl up in a grin and you glance at Logan.

He’s by the sink, making himself a drink and taking a deep swig straight out of the bottle. You creep up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smiles, hand coming down to gently hold your arm. “What’re you doing?”

”Come with me,” you whisper. You take his hand and lead him through the apartment. You both skirt around the partygoers, giving them vague greetings and waving them off when they give you odd looks.

Logan leans down, lips brushing across your ear as he whispers, “Where are we going?” Your knees nearly give out when you hear that low tone of voice of his. You just shake your head and lead him down the hall. You can sniff out Wade’s room from the permeating stench of his axe body spray.

You throw the door open and drag Logan inside behind you. His nose wrinkles up at the stiff socks littering the floor and the smell. Other than that, it’s relatively clean. You actually thought this would look so much worse.

“Now,” Logan demands, “are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”

“Well,” you lock the door and turn around with a devious grin. “Seeing as Wade has ruined my favorite sheets, I feel like we need to get him back somehow.” You glance around the room, trying to figure out something of his you want to destroy.

You don’t hear Logan moving towards you. You’re too busy rooting through Wade’s desk and trying to find something good to shred up. All you’re seeing is increasingly more disturbing porno mags. He has got a serious problem with pegging. You briefly wonder if you should set up an intervention or something for him.

You nearly yelp when Logan’s hands grip your shoulders, whipping you around to face him. “I’ve got an idea of what we can do.” That’s your only warning before his lips cover your own. You melt into him immediately, hands fisting his shirt and dragging him closer. He grins against your lips, lifting you and placing you on the edge of Wade’s desk.

“Mm,” you moan but shove his chest back and shake your head. “Wait,” you hop off the desk and take a seat on Wade’s bed instead. “There’s no point in this if we’re not on the bed.”

Logan shakes his head with an amused huff. He walks towards you but instead of taking a seat on the bed next to you like you'd expected, he kneels before you. Your brows furrow together and you frown. “Wait, what’re you doing?”

He gives you a gentle smile, hands coming up to rub gently over your thighs. The warmth of his palms soothes you almost immediately. “You trust me?” He asks, voice a low rumble against your chest.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He nods encouragingly and leans forward, kissing you gently. There’s nothing expectant in this kiss. He’s doing it just to be close to you. Then you feel his hands drifting higher, fingers running over the buttons of your jeans. Your lips part, ready to ask him a question. But he just takes the chance to dip his tongue into your mouth, eagerly tasting you. You moan into it, not protesting when he presses you back into the bed.

His fingers dip under the waistband of your jeans. You lift your hips to help him tug them the rest of the way down until they’re dropping to the floor quietly. You have a million questions dancing on the tip of your tongue but you can’t find it in yourself to actually voice any of them. You don’t want to break the moment. This is the first time he’s seemed comfortable going further than kissing and some heavy petting.

“Fuck,” he whispers. Your hips jolt as he runs a thumb over the wet spot on your panties. “All this just from kissing?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his tone. You feel your face flush, cheeks warming when you realize he’s never actually seen just how much he affects you. “Relax,” he tells you, squeezing your thighs once before slipping a few lithe fingers under the band of your panties.

He tugs them down, but the second he sets eyes on you he gets too impatient to take them off the rest of the way. They dangle off one ankle while he lifts your thighs, setting them on his shoulder and dipping down to press a gentle kiss against you. You gasp at the contact, head tilting back while you instinctually grind your hips up against him.

It’s been a long time since you’ve actually been with anyone and you already know you’re going to cum embarrassingly quick because he fucking devours you. You’ve had boyfriends who liked to eat you out before, but this is something completely different.

He drags his tongue over you, sucking on your clit like it’s his only true joy in life. You can’t even make noises, your jaw hanging slack while you cant your hips higher. He groans when you grind against his face, shaking his head and flicking his nose across your bud. You nearly come from the sight of him smiling against your cunt alone. You feel it building slowly, and it’s like your powers are swelling up along with your release.

Wade’s knicknacks are floating off the shelves, some of them rotating in the air, others fluctuating between liquid and solid forms. You can’t control yourself, you’re barely aware of the chaos happening in the room around you. You just feel a warmth at the tips of your toes, swelling over your body, making your skin feel too tight. There’s little to no warning when you cum. He dips his tongue inside you and you let out a long moan, drenching his face.

The sheets are soaking wet underneath you and you know you’ve ruined his shirt. You’ve never come that hard before and you would reflect on that more if he wasn’t still fucking eating you out. You think your brain is going to melt out of your ears, you're so overwhelmed by all the different sensations.

He dips his tongue into you, dragging out your orgasm and drinking as much of you down as he can. Your hips keep twitching, you’d be thrashing out of his hands if it wasn’t for the near brushing grip he has on your hips. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you reach down, grabbing his hair at the roots and tugging. He groans at the feeling, barely leaning an inch back. “No more,” you whisper, chest heaving.

He smiles, palms smoothing across the skin of your thighs, “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum weakly. Your head falls back against the bed with a dull thunk and you struggle to catch your breath. “Holy shit, where did you learn to do that?” He doesn’t answer, just laughs. You jump slightly when he presses a tender kiss on your thigh, every part of you oversensitive.

He moves slowly up your body, hands dragging your shirt up until he’s pulling it over your head. He cups your cheeks, letting you recover while he kisses your cheeks and face. You laugh slightly at the feeling of his beard tickling you.

You pull back, meeting his gaze for a long drawn-out moment before you lean forward to finally kiss him back. You can feel yourself slowly coming back into your body. Your limbs tingle back to life while you lazily make out with him.

His hands drift down your chest, squeezing your breasts. You laugh against his lips, arching into his touch. You reach back, unclipping your bra and throwing it off somewhere in the room. In the far reaches of your mind, you make a mental note to take that when you go. You don’t want to think about what Wade would do with it if he found it.

Logan pulls back from you and your lips tip down at the serious look he wears. Your fingers trace the lines of his face and you tilt your head in question. “What’s wrong?” You whisper. You’re completely naked before him and he’s still clothed, you don’t want him to leave now.

He can’t keep doing this to you. He can’t keep forcing you into these vulnerable positions and then leaving. There’s only so much rejection you can take before you start to resent him for it.

He tilts his head down, gaze dragging across your body appreciatively. He’s looking at you like you’re art and it makes you feel like you should be in a museum somewhere. Finally, his hand drags down from your chest, wrapping around your waist and dragging you onto his lap.

You brace your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He leans towards you, lips trailing lightly across your jaw. “You’re not her,” he whispers against your skin. Your mouth parts, a pained breath slipping through. You try to move back from him. You hadn’t expected something like that, not now, not when you thought you’d made so much progress together.

To have you naked, vulnerable like this, and then say something like that to you. It was fucking despicable. You shove his shoulders back but he barely moves. You shift, trying to cover yourself and fighting off the urge to cry. Why won’t he let you go? Why does he keep doing this to you?

He reaches out, snatching up your wrist before you can get far. “I don’t want you to be. I never wanted you to be her, I need you to know that.”

He tries to kiss you but you snatch his jaw in your hand before he can. You let your nails dig in until there’s red blooming under your fingertips. He hisses, but he’s not mad, you can feel how much he enjoys the little pinpricks of pain.

“No more pulling away,” you warn. “I’m not playing this damn game with you anymore, Logan. You want me, then commit.” You release him with a shove and his pupils dilate with want. You appreciate the gentle way he’s been treating you, but you know you’re both holding back.

He’s the first partner you’ve been with that can actually take what you give and vice versa. There’s something only mutants understand sometimes. You normally have to hold back, have to make sure you don’t scare a guy off by making the walls shake when you come.

You push him down onto the bed. Hands sliding under the hem of his shirt and running over the grooves of his muscles. You haven’t had a chance to appreciate just how gorgeous his body is before, but nothing is holding you back now.

You snap your fingers and the buttons rip open, he surges forward catching your lips with his while you both frantically push his shirt off. He throws it off to the side and his fingers fumble with his belt buckle while you trail kisses down his neck. You glance up at him for a second before biting down on a particularly sensitive spot.

He groans, head rolling back while you grin against his skin. You make your way back to his lips. “Don’t hold back,” you tell him, trailing your hands down to his fists and running over the spots where the claws come out.

“Sweetheart,” he starts tone apprehensive. You shake your head, shutting him up with a kiss.

“Don’t. Hold. Back.”

It’s like a switch flipping. Even the way he looks at you changes. You’re not something to be cherished and adored. You feel like a deer pinned by a wolf. He’s got you in his clutches now and there’s a real possibility you might not survive this.

He stands up, dropping you on the bed and dragging your hips off the edge. He doesn’t kick his jeans off, just lowers them enough for his cock to hang out. You’ll address the fact that he wasn’t wearing boxers later, you’re too worried about what’s hanging between his legs right now.

You’re no virgin, but goddamn, there’s no way that’s going to fit.

He laughs, the noise cruel and it makes shivers crawl down your spine. “We’ll make it work, kid.” He spreads your legs and you tilt your hips up, making it easier for him to just sip inside.

There’s a slight stretch, but you’re already soaked for him. You’ve been waiting for this to happen since you walked in on him naked in your bathroom. “Oh, shit,” you toss your head back, taking in a deep breath while he pushes in. It feels like he’s rearranging your insides, molding you to fit him perfectly.

You can already feel yourself clenching down, just being so close to him is enough to make that tingle in the tips of your toes start. He leans down, placing your legs over his elbows and rutting into you like a wild animal. There’s nothing gentle or slow about this.

You’re both so pent-up, tired from the weeks of dancing around each other. Your nails drag up his back, blood following your movement. Your powers are actively surging against him, pain only driving you further into each other’s arms.

You can hear his breathy grunts and groans in your ears and it’s music to you. Neither of you cares about the party going on just outside the door. You’re loud, skin slapping against skin while you loudly call out his name.

God, you hope they hear you. Hope they realize just how thoroughly you’re wrecked for each other. You can feel yourself getting closer, hips stuttering against his while you struggle to match his pace. “Come on,” he mutters in your ear. He releases one of your legs to reach down and rub your clit.

“Fuck,” you groan, reaching up and tugging at his hair while your back bows. It only takes a few more tight circles of his thumb before you’re spasming around him. He’s quick to follow behind you.

He pins your hips to the bed, dropping your legs while he thrusts faster. He loses his rhythm, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as he cums inside you. It’s like a mini death, you feel like you’ve lost time when you finally manage to come back to yourself.

And when you roll your head to the side you realize just how much damage you’ve done to Wade’s bed. “Shit,” You glance up at the sound of his voice and notice little droplets of blood on your hips. Logan’s claws are out, stuck in the fluff of the bed.

You force the words out, tongue heavy in your mouth. “Do that often?”

“Not really,” he mutters. The claws retreat and he rubs his fingers over the blood. It’s not bad, you’ve honestly done worse to yourself. It’s like a big paper cut. When the rough pad of his fingers presses against the cut you hiss at the sting, nearly enjoying it.

“Must be special,” you tell him with a cheeky grin. He shakes his head with a laugh and takes his time pulling out. You hate the loss of him inside you but it's a slight relief. He's larger than any partner you’ve ever had and it’s almost overwhelming to be so full.

“Come on, let's get you dressed.” He pats your thighs, glancing around for your clothes.

“Uh, Logan,” he looks up and you glance at his still very hard cock. “I thought you came?”

The smile he gives you is slightly terrifying. Because there’s a promise in it. He’s not getting you dressed for no reason. He’s taking you back to your apartment so you can have more fun where there are less people and fewer reminders of Wade. “Stamina's part of the deal, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you whisper, voice breathless in shock. You wipe the cum off your legs with Wade’s sheets. You feel like you’ve thoroughly gotten revenge on him for destroying your favorite bed set. Maybe, you’ve gone a little farther than revenge, though.

You feel guilty, looking around the room and seeing everything you destroyed. Once you’re dressed, you wave your hand, putting most things back where they belong. But there’s nothing you can do about the bed. The sheets are soaked with a mixture of yours and Logan’s releases and there are six holes dug deep in the bed from his claws.

When you step out of the room with Logan, struggling to press down your hair and get it back into place, Blind Al is waiting by the door. She’s doing a line off the back of her hand when you pass by. You think you’ve almost made it scott-free when she yells, “Man, I wish I couldn’t fucking hear,” at you.

You tense up, shoulders to your ears while you run to the door. Logan laughs, grabbing your coat for you and pressing a hand to your back while he leads you to the apartment. “Weren’t feeling so embarrassed earlier,” he teases.

“Shut up,” you grumble, dragging him into the apartment to finish what you couldn’t on Wade’s bed.

You’ve managed to keep any holes out of your bed, you just have to use your powers to keep his at bay. It’s nice, not having to explain why everything around you is levitating to the person you’re having sex with. There were a lot of awkward conversations that came from that.

You’re lying on Logan’s chest, fingers idly running over the veins in his biceps. “I want to be serious about this,” you tell him.

His hand pauses from where it’d been stroking your back. You sit up on your elbow so you can get a better look at him. “I mean it, I,” there’s no way to say this without sounding like a complete bitch. You just have to rip the bandaid off.

You take in a deep breath, “I know that you still miss her,” you say, unwilling to say her name. Logan sits up, looking more serious now. “But I don’t want to be with you if you think that I’m going to turn into her. Or if you think that I’m the last connection you have to her. I’m not her, Logan, and I'm never going to be her.”

You expect anger on his face or regret, maybe. But you don’t expect him to laugh at you. You roll your eyes, lips pursed while you wait for him to finish. He notices the pissy expression on your face and quiets down, but you still see a smile fighting on his lips.

“I know you’re not her. You could not be more different” he tells you with a slight smirk, like there’s an inside joke you’re missing out on. “I was married to her for a long time and I loved her. But we had our time together. Now, I just want my time with you. You’re not her,” he leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “That’s why I want you.”

You feel your heart flutter in your chest and have to fight to keep a stupid grin off your face. “Okay,” you whisper. “Good, well as long as we’re on the same page,” you tell him, faux serious. He just rolls his eyes and pulls you back into his arms.

You’re going to cuddle up beside him when you hear your phone going off like crazy on your nightstand. Your face pinches in confusion and you reach over to grab it.

Wade

Did you fuckers have sex???

In my bed!!!!

And you didn’t invite me?!

….

Wade

Tell Logan I want his claws in me next

“Fuckin’ dumbass,” you mutter, throwing your phone somewhere on the bed. Logan laughs again, drawing you closer.

a/n: i have a really weird tendency for masochism, idk what that’s about. I just feel like if you were having sex with this man, he’s taking you like a wild animal. also feel like I might be a one-hit wonder. the smut just wasn’t doing it for me this time guys nor was the angst, i’m disappointed in myself

I just don't think I did justice to his character in the movie, I might have made it too OOC/ if I did PLEASE let me know

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus ♡

#logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #the worst logan x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #hugh jackman #praying this doesn't flop

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uglypastels · 1 year

Text

the Special | Sanji x reader

a/n - my first One Piece fic. absolutely terrifying but definitely a needed change of scenario to get out of my writing block. please be kind; I'm taking all my inspo from the live-action as that is what I am currently the most familiar with. but, well, we just have to see how it goes. bon appetite

Shoutout to my dear @mydearzero for encouraging my newfound obsession with this show and this character, as well as generally encouraging me to write. this is all your fault. And to everyone else who had been expecting me to finally post one of the other million fics I had promised... I'm sorry

And kind reminder that reblogs is what makes tumblr work. Please, if you enjoyed the story, reblog

word count: 9.9k

warning: 18+ only. MDNI. smut. piv sex. oral sex (f!receiving). unprotected sex [wrap up your eggplants yall]. semi-public sex. several FDA regulation code breaks, probably. afab reader. swearing. little bit of angst. shitty and fat-shaming [oc!]boyfriend/date. fist fight. alcohol consumption.

“Look at your waiter's face. He knows. It's another reason to be polite to your waiter; he could save your life with a raised eyebrow or a sigh.”

― Anthony Bourdain,

The first thing you saw was the red, bright sign spelling out the restaurant's name.

Baratie. You had no clue what it meant but could only hope that “the best restaurant in the East Blue” was somewhere down the list of its definitions, especially after the months that they had kept you on the waiting list and the tumultuous trip that it took to sail there. Next, as your ship approached, you saw the… fish head. The sight of the sculpture at the front of the ship structure buried some worry in the pit of your stomach, but surely, if so many people had given it such fond reviews, the exterior was not to speak for what awaited you inside.

‘Believe me, baby, you’ll love it here.’

‘I really hope so,’ you smiled as you got off your boat. Your legs shook at the knee as you stepped onto the sturdy dock planks. Days at sea, which had never been your friend, had clearly done more damage than you expected. You would have been on the floor if it wasn’t for the pair of arms holding on to you.

‘Thanks, Chosi,’ you said towards your boyfriend as he helped you steadily get back onto your feet.

‘Can’t have you faceplant the second we get here,’ he brushed some invisible dust off your shoulder, and with his arm entwined with yours, he led you to the entrance of the establishment. You grabbed at the skirt of your dress to keep it down as the wind blew by.

As you walked, you looked at all the other ships harboured on the… was this an island? Was the entirety just one large ship? Was it anchored to something then, or was it drifting around the seas constantly? You couldn’t quite comprehend the logistics of it all. But you could tell that humans and other creatures of all walks of life–royalty, commoners, marines, pirates—were unbothered by each other's presence and enjoying the outing. Once inside, the shushed sound of the waves was exchanged for a whisper of swing music, as well as the chatter of the restaurant’s patrons and the clinking of their cutlery on plates. The walls were lined in crimson wallpaper as well as painted depictions of sea battles, accented in gold and bronze details matching the furniture placed spaciously around the room and the two stories above it that lead the eye to a beautiful aquamarine ceiling that gave the illusion as if one was looking up at the bright sky from underwater.

The maitre’d, a Fishman, stood to attention at your entrance.

‘Good afternoon, how may I help you?’ he asked kindly.

‘We have a reservation. Name is Chosi,’ Chosi stated with his head held high. Despite you doubting that anyone knew his name in these parts of the world, he never ceased to pronounce it with a level of expectation to it. It was commendable, as well as disappointing, when nothing happened afterwards. The maitre’d simply nodded and glanced down at his long list of names, searching for the one he had just heard, ready to cross it off.

‘Ah, yes, right here. Please, do follow me to your table.’ And so, you did just that, walking down the grand staircase onto the restaurant's main floor, where you seated at one of the smaller tables, perfect for a romantic dinner for two. ‘Your waiter will be right with you.’ The Fishman bid you farewell just like that and returned to his position at the door.

‘So?’ Chosi looked at you with a raised brow as you looked around.

‘It is quite stunning.’ You must admit that you did not expect this kind of splendour when looking at the carved fish that gaped at you outside. Something about that just did not exude the same essence as the timeless and classy beauty of the interior. You barely even felt the shake of the waves beneath you.

Maybe your response wasn’t sufficient, for Chosi had opened his mouth to respond, something in the angles of his face announcing displeasure, but he was interrupted by a new presence at your table. You looked up at the tall figure towering over you.

‘Welcome,’ the man spoke, his accent clearly indicating his origin if only you had been aware of where that was. Simultaneously, he put down a plate of bread rolls, perfectly and meticulously positioned atop it. ‘...to Baratie. My name is Sanji; I will be your waiter this afternoon.’

‘Took you long enough.’ Chosi mumbled under his breath, giving you an immense urge to kick him underneath the table, but you knew better than to do that, especially when he did not seem to be ready to stop any time soon. ‘Trying to convince my girl this place is worth visiting, heh.’ You could feel your cheeks burning up in embarrassment. Nevertheless, the waiter—Sanji, he said was his name—did not seem to give the comment much thought as he looked down at you with a curve to his thin-lined lips.

‘My apologies, madame; I hope my service will not give you the false impression of this establishment being worth any of your precious time.’ The smoothness of his voice almost concealed the true meaning behind his speech, leaving you, as well as your date, speechless. However, you felt your speaking ability to be taken away by more than just his words as you spared a second to take your waiter in properly. You just could not help but notice how his suit wrapped around his arms, and although one was covered by his blonde hair, his eyes had a glint of something that excited you despite not even knowing the root of that excitement.

Like nothing had happened, Sanji continued, ‘Would you care to see the menu? Hear the specials?’ That is when you noticed the menu cards he was holding in his hand. And he must have been ready to list the special items, but Chosi was a step ahead.

‘Actually, I think we are ready to order.’ That was the first you had heard of it, but you stayed put as he continued. After all, Chosi had eaten here before. He knew what was good, and you could trust his judgement.

‘Prime rib, medium rare,’ as your boyfriend spoke, you kept your eye on the waiter, noticing the appearance of the smallest of flinches in his face at the sound of the dish, but never faltering his picture-perfect appearance, ‘and my lady will have the salad.’

Another twitch, right below his visible eyes, followed, but Sanji’s professional facade stayed on as he inquired: ‘We offer quite a variety of salads; which would madame prefer?’ And with that, he turned to you, that smile plastered on like a sticker, but he had trouble keeping it on as the answer to his question did not come from your mouth.

‘Whichever is the best, of course.’ Chosi rolled his eyes, and you wished you could do so as well. The waiter glanced between you and him, turning back to you momentarily. Long enough for you to give him a reassuring smile. It would be in everyone’s best interest if he just moved on from the matter.

‘Drinks, then,’ Sanji again spoke with an unphased essence about him, as if nothing from the past few minutes had ever occurred, or at least tried to emulate this. ‘Madam, anything I can get you?’ The way he emphasised that word didn’t require any pointed glares.

‘Uhm,’ you hesitated as he kept his full attention on you, completely ignoring the man sitting opposite you at the table, making Chosi stare at you just as, if not more, intensely, for all the opposite reasons. Out of panic, you just blurted out the most straightforward order. ‘Just water, thank you.’ It being the first words you said in the waiter's presence, they came out soft. Nothing like your regular voice, which startled you slightly.

‘Still, sparkling or mineral?’ Sanji pursued.

‘Still please,’ you smiled shyly, unsure where that actual shyness derived from.

‘Ice? Cubed or crushed?’ He fired the questions at a rapid pace.

‘A bit of ice is fine. Thank you,’ you repeated yourself, looking down at the table and letting the waiter move on to the rest of the order. He didn’t say anything else but looked at Chosi with anticipation.

‘I’ll have your finest brew.’

‘Coming up,’ his voice had a sudden coldness to it as he walked away, back to the kitchen, leaving the table to a thick silence.

‘I could have ordered for myself, you know,’ you said, with that same soft tone you had spoken with earlier, although this felt much more familiar seeing who you talked to.

‘And have you stuff yourself with some useless carbs? C’mon, you know I’m just looking out for you, here.’

‘I know.’ You straightened out a fork in front of you, suddenly feeling uneasy at how far away from the plate it was positioned compared to the knife on the opposite side. You were straightening out a crease in the tablecloth when Sanji returned with a silver tray in one hand. He placed the pint glass full of golden brew in front of Chosi before turning your way and setting a glass beside your plate. With a pair of tongs, one by one, he let ice cubes fall to the bottom of it, the clinking against the glass almost deafening. Then, he followed up with another pair of tongs and reached for a little tray but stopped himself to ask you: ‘Care for a slice of lemon, madame?’

‘Oh, uhm, sure,’ you shrugged, unable to look away. This process of pouring a glass of water felt rather extensive, but you could not deny the fact you were enjoying it all. As he grabbed the large pitcher to pour the water, you were unsure how he had carried all of these items with one hand and did so seemingly effortlessly.

‘There we go,’ he smiled, ‘your food will be with you shortly, but do let me know if you require anything else.’ And just like that, he was gone again, but not without leaving you feeling that he had meant his parting words especially for you and that that sentiment had undoubtedly not escaped your date.

‘I don’t like the look of that guy.’ Chosi glared at you as he took a sip from his pint, slurping up the top layer of foam with it.

‘I think he’s quite sweet.’ You straightened out the fork again and reached for a bread roll to tear it apart piece by piece.

‘Of course you would,’ he rolled his eyes, which made you look up from your little snack.

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ You put the bread roll down as the pit in your stomach hollowed out your appetite. Right, making space for that damn salad.

‘Nothing.’ Chosi shrugged, ‘Just that it's typical that somehow I’m the only one to notice when some guy is trying to cop a feel.’

‘He was doing no such thing.’ You had to bite your tongue not to raise your voice as his insinuation, despite being on the waiter's actions, seemed to be brutally judging yourself. ‘The poor guy is just doing his job. I’m not bothered by it, and neither should you be.’ Usually, you would attach some sweet nickname at the end of that sentence, but this was one too many times you had said a variant of the confirmation, and you were growing tired of just the thought of it.

Somewhere in the distance, a table erupted into a shouting match that had to be broken up by a handful of waiters. While usually, you turned away from such brutalities, never having been fond of violence and not particularly having a necessity in seeing people getting their teeth punched out minutes before eating a meal, this time you stretched your neck out to glance across the room, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of the white-blonde hair among the rousing heads. Someone had pulled a pistol, but the weapon was kicked out of the man's grip before they could shoot or even alarm people enough to hide beneath their tables. Just like that, the restaurant resumed its normal state of pleasantries, and you got back to your abysmal date and hoped it was still worth saving… or that saving was still even an option to begin with.

‘From what you had told me about the place, Chi, it is much grander than I had expected.’ You smiled, and he nodded to your affirmations.

‘Well, I didn’t want to raise the expectations too high, but you know I don’t do anything but the best for you, sweet cheeks.’

‘Of course—’ you were interrupted by the footsteps nearing your table, and the weight nearly lifted off your shoulders at the sight of Sanji carrying too large plates.

‘Hello there,’ he grinned slyly, ‘hope I don’t interrupt anythin’.’

‘Not at all,’ You moved your glass aside to make space for your dish, but Sanji put Chosi’s plate down first, announcing the food.

‘Prime rib, medium rare, for the gentleman.’ Like everything else, he precisely placed it so the gold details on the plate faced the diner exactly right. The roast glistened in the restaurant's dim light, and the smell hit you right at the nerves that reminded you of your hunger. But that was for the gentleman, and the gentleman had ordered for you the—

‘And for the madame,’ Sanji put a plate in front of you, ‘what I like to call the Sanji Special.’

You looked down at your plate of food with a stunned expression and then looked back up. Just in time, you caught the slight wink that your waiter had sent you before stepping back to then, with a nod, say, ‘Bon appetite.’

He got to take about three steps and had just turned his back towards your table when Chosi called out to him, clearing his throat. ‘Ehem, excuse me, Sonny.’

‘Is there a problem?’ Sanji returned with his hands behind his back, but you didn’t need to see his fists to know he was clenching them. It was all visible in the strain of his upper arms and jaw as he restrained himself to keep up a polite smile.

‘I am pretty sure we had ordered a salad?’ Chosi tried to play it off with a casual laugh, but it turned out to be anything but. Sanji leaned forward to grab the plate, but then your boyfriend exclaimed, ‘No, not for me; for her.’ before the waiter got his hand on his prime rib.

With a satisfied smile, Sanji glanced at your plate and stated: ‘That is a salad.’

Not that you did not appreciate what was in front of you, but if it was a salad, it was the loosest interpretation of the definition possible. You had to keep your laugh in as he explained that the dish was a “twist on kensui salad with steamed components, egg, and pork” or, in your simpler terms… the most delicious-looking pot of ramen you had ever encountered in your life, but no, definitely not a salad in the traditional sense. You smiled at the food, not daring to look up at Sanji while your boyfriend’s head seemed to be boiling alive, but the waiter was a step ahead of you.

‘Ah, almost forgot, for the lady,’ almost out of nowhere, he made a pair of chopsticks appear for you.

‘She will not be eating that,’ Chosi grunted.

‘I think that is for her to decide,’ Sanji didn’t even bother to look at him, keeping his sweet smile on you, which, in turn, rushed a hot flush over your cheeks.

‘Chosi, don’t be like that; this looks delicious.’ You spoke, hoping he would calm down and let you finally sink your teeth into this gorgeous meal. After a tense second, Chosi finally huffed out and sank back down in his chair, making you realise he had been on the verge of getting up for whatever reason. Either way, his intentions could not have been good. In the meantime, Sanji excused himself once more to finally leave you to eat.

You had perhaps taken half a bite when Chosi, his food untouched, spoke up again. ‘Why do you always do this?’

‘Do what?’ your throat tightened around the pork you had just swallowed.

‘Embarrass me like that?’ He sighed, a vein in his forehead looking more prominent than ever.

‘I didn’t—’

‘Cut the shit, you know what you’re doing.’ Chosi slammed his fist on the table, startling you and the few people sitting at the nearest tables to you.

‘Please, can we not do this now,’ you kept your head down, ignoring all the pairs of eyes that must have started catching on to what was happening. Chosi had turned red from anger by that point.

‘What, am I being too much for you? Imagine what it’s like going out with a slut—’

‘Chosi!’ you snapped, immediately covering your face with your hand as if you had not meant to shout and grab the attention of even more people.

Deep breath in.

Out.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ You hissed at the man across the table from you.

‘With me? You’re the one that has been eyefucking the waiter this whole time, and now you disrespected me like that in front of him? Do I mean so little to you?’

‘I did no such thing.’ You rolled your eyes, catching glimpses of the room you were in. The people that sat around, the employees. Of course, Sanji stood only a few tables away, taking an order. Could he hear what was happening? Most likely, the idea of that burned you in a new, much more unpleasant manner. Chosi must have said something, but you had been too occupied by your surroundings and too tired to even listen to what other vile things he had to tell you. The only thing that kept you at that table was the food, but no matter how good, it wasn’t worth enduring him. ‘You know what,’ you grabbed your napkin and slapped it onto the table, ‘I can’t do this right now. I’ll see you on the boat.’ The chair shrieked as you shoved it back.

‘Where the hell do you think you’re going,’ Chosi growled practically, and despite you having already turned your back to him, you heard his own chair scrape the deck floor. You had your eyes squeezed shut as you got ready for what was coming. He reached out, but nothing happened.

You looked over your shoulder to see Sanji pulling Chosi in by the sleeve.

‘Believe me, we don’t wanna do that, mate.’ Sanji said, his eyes filled with a new rage that made you take a step back.

‘Let go of me, you sleaze.’ Chosi suddenly reminded you of a feral kitten, how he tried to wriggle himself out of the waiter’s grip. ‘I’ll make you regret ever touching me. Do you know who I am?’

‘Do I look like I give a shit?’ he let go with a laugh, almost pushing Chosi to the ground. As your date dusted off his sleeves, Sanji took a step forward, pressing himself against him. Now that both men were standing face to face, did you only realise how much taller Sanji was than your boyfriend. How much bigger and, most likely, how much stronger. With a hushed and reserved tone yet somehow full of intimidation, the waiter said, ‘Don’t you ever try to touch or speak to a woman like that again, you hear me? Or I’ll make you regret you were ever born.’

Chosi could only nod with his eyes blown wide open. The restaurant was dead quiet, unable to pull their eyes away from the scene unfolding before them. No one said anything or moved, and yet, somewhere, a stack of plates fell. The crash of porcelain echoed through the space, and Sanji turned his attention toward the kitchen’s double doors for a second. That quick moment was enough for Chosi to find his moment and attack.

Or at least make an attempt at it.

Sanji was still looking toward the kitchen, and Chosi’s fist was in mid-air, but the waiter flawlessly manoeuvred around it, swinging himself back and letting Chosi fall forward. To make matters worse, Sanji supplemented the fall by kicking him over. If it wasn’t for the fact that your boyfriend’s chin had smacked against the table, you would have missed the entire thing, as Sanji’s movements were so elegant that it seemed as if he had not moved at all. He might as well have been refilling your water, ignorant of the groaning mess of a man he had kicked down to the ground with such ease.

Chosi got up shakily. A nasty cut was already dripping blood from the underside of his face, but the redness didn’t compare to the rage on his face. He looked around until his eyes caught yours. ‘What, you’re just gonna stand there like some dumb–’

‘What did I just say?’ Sanji said, this time much louder, not trying to hide the row from the rest of the diners. But before he could make another move, Chosi reached for the nearest thing he could reach, which in his case was your dish of ramen, and threw a fistful of noodles Sanji’s way, hitting him square in the chest.

Silence.

He must have been too stunned at the audacious strike to move out of the way for it. Everyone must have been watching the noodles unstick from his navy jacket and slowly fall to the ground, then watched as Sanji raised his head back up, his expression unamused and cold, but his eyes filled with a passionate and furious fire. One that was enough to live up to the promise he had made the man you had come to the restaurant with. And so, just like that, without another word needing to be said by anyone, you watched Chosi back away—one, two, three steps, whimpering and mumbling some comments that could almost make up an apology, before he sprinted up the stairs to the exit.

‘Ridiculous,’ you heard Sanji mutter under his breath. ‘Fucking waste of food.’

Before you could think any better about it, you walked up and knelt down, as he did, to reach for the spilt noodles. ‘I am so sorry,’ you started apologising. ‘I swear normally he–’

‘Is exactly like that,’ Sanji chuckled with a rasp. You looked up at him, a bit dumbfounded. He had managed to scoop most of the food before you had and was already getting up. ‘You have nothing to apologise for.’ One of his colleagues had been quick with bringing over cleaning supplies. ‘If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. Let me make it up to you—a drink in the bar, on the house.’

‘No, that is really not necessary.’ You couldn’t accept anything for free after your boyfriend pulled off such a scene and… had run off without paying. The realisation hit you like a brick on the head as you cursed under your breath with a strong sense of panic, which Sanji caught on to immediately.

‘Please,’ He reached gently for your arm. ‘I insist.’

You stuttered for a moment before actually answering in defeated agreement. With a satisfied smile, Sanji led you to another exit, leading to the bar deck. ‘Right this way, madame.’

The bar deck, located in the mouth of that giant fish head, was moderately empty. Except for you and the appointed barman behind the counter, only a handful of others were sprinkled across the couches and futons. You chose a seat overlooking the sea and the setting sun that coloured the sky and waters an array of warm colours.

You understood that you had to go up to the bar to order, but you felt no particular need for it, just enjoying the breeze that brought over the calm sea air towards you.

It was unclear how much time you spent sitting out there, looking at the waves splashing by and the clouds above you and the people around you. Only once the sun had set entirely, darkening the sky completely, and most people had left the area, you decide to finally walk up to the bartender and place an order. The man nodded and proceeded to make your drink with only a few attached flourishes to the craft, but the result was charming and tasted delicious.

‘I hope I had made it clear that that was one drink on the house,’ you heard from behind you.

‘Don’t worry, this is my first.’ You said, turning around to see Sanji standing behind you.

‘You might just be the slowest drinker I have ever met,’ he said as he took the spot by your side.

‘Jeez, do your manners flush away the second you’re off the clock?’ You smiled, taking a sip of your drink, most likely also proving Sanji his point as the sip you took was particularly small.

‘For what it’s worth, madame, I was about to tell you that your bill has been taken care of.’ He leaned against the bar countertop with his forearms. ‘But I will make myself scarce now.’

‘No, wait,’ you stopped him before he could push himself back. ‘What do you mean it was– I would have happily paid. At least let me leave a tip.’ You were ready to pull out your purse when he took his turn to halt your movements.

‘I will not be accepting any tips for my service today. And honestly, you barely had a meal to eat, let alone to pay for. It is all taken care of. I promise.’

You looked up at him apprehensively, but something about his–not necessarily laidback–but how he was so comfortable with the situation put you at ease, too. But something was gnawing at your conscience.

‘Alright then, but I disagree with the review of your service. You most certainly need something for it in return.’ How could you repay the man who had just gotten you out of your horrific relationship? You doubted anything in the world could match your actual gratefulness. Although, maybe the smile that pulled at Sanji’s lips said something different.

‘Let me cook for you.’

‘What?’ You blinked slowly, making him smile even wider.

‘You haven’t eaten anything proper in hours. Let me make you something in the kitchen–an exclusive guest experience.’

‘That doesn’t sound much like a gratuity for you.’ You pointed out, but he did not seem to mind.

‘Indulge me,’ was all he responded with. Feeling giddy at the prospect, you glanced over at the bartender, who was definitely listening in on the conversation. Understanding what you meant with your look, he simply shrugged while wiping the glasses.

‘Ok then.’ This entire thing felt utterly ridiculous, and you didn’t hide the amusement you felt from it as Sanji opened the door to the kitchen for you. That is when your smile lightly faltered, only to be replaced with a fallen jaw as you looked around in amazement. Like the dining area, this room had a high ceiling but wasn’t decorated as much as simply visually enhanced by all the bronze pots and pans hanging around, and the pipes leading from the ovens and stoves up to the chimneys. There were long lines of prep stations, behind which one Sanji comfortably made himself at home as he immediately got started on something.

The first few minutes, after you watched him exchange his suit jacket for a white chef’s uniform, you were occupied with the kitchen itself, but once you had gotten used to the environment, you wondered where you could make yourself equally comfortable as not a nuisance to him as he cooked.

‘Make yourself at home, sweetheart,’ he said while chopping some ingredients at a speed that made your heart skip a beat in fear. Or did that come from the new nickname that caught you by surprise?

‘What happened to “madame”?’ you walked closer to his station. Sanji just looked up briefly, eye covered by his hair but his smile evermore present. Your smile lasted longer as you forgot you had meant to look at what he was doing, not to stare at him. Noticing he was not planning on answering your question, you asked another. ‘So, what exactly are you making?’

‘Since I’m sure dinner did not turn out entirely as you had planned, I thought maybe dessert would be a good pick-me-up. Rose and chocolate meringue tartes, how does that sound?’

‘Makes me wonder what I did to deserve it,’ you laugh it off while speaking the question that had been on your mind this whole time.

‘I like to show a lady how she’s meant to be treated,’ he said as he poured several ingredients into a glass bowl and began wicking at a pace that should have stopped him from looking so effortless long ago. ‘It’s all part of the special package deal.’

‘Right, the Sanji Special, was it?’ You looked around at the countertop next to him, which seemed free from ingredients and anything you could set on fire. You glanced his way, and he swiftly nodded your way. With that permission in mind, you pushed yourself up on the counter, swinging your legs lightly back and forth. ‘So what exactly does this special indicate?’

‘A nice meal, a little surprise, a few kind words, nothing too crazy. I would like to think that, with it, I have perfected the recipe on how to eliminate shitbag boyfriends like that prince charming you came here with.’

‘My knight in shining armour.’ You rolled your eyes, hiding how much you appreciated all his actions from that day. ‘Must have worked on quite a few girls then?’

‘Can’t say it has,’ he said as he pushed the oven open to prebake a few tartelette frames. The speed at which he worked truly was otherworldly.

‘Can’t because of a bad success rate or because you hadn’t actually tried it before?’

He appeared next to you from beside the oven; tiny droplets of sweat were forming at his temple, but his energy was still burning like the fire under the pot where he was melting the chocolate. ‘Let's say the latter. For both our dignity’s sake.’ It did not come as a surprise to you that he was a flirt and most likely tried these tricks out on the entirety of the female clientele, and yet, for reasons unknown, you did not mind one bit, and it still did not seize to make the smallest of his advances work on you with tremendous effect.

‘Don’t think I have much more of that left after everything that happened out there.’ You cringed at the memory of the shouting, the mess, and just how many people had been sitting there watching you.

‘There’s been much worse out there, believe me.’ Sanji lowered the fire under the pan lightly.

‘I hardly believe that. He threw noodles at you. That is absolutely revolting behaviour.’ And somehow, you managed not to get kicked out of the restaurant along with Chosi but even got to hang out in the kitchen after hours as a special dessert was being prepared for you… by the waiter that your boyfriend had tried to assault— no, that your ex-boyfriend tried to assault. That felt much better, but still didn’t let the whole situation make any more sense.

‘And that wouldn’t even make the top ten of shit that’s happened around this place.’

‘I… am not sure wether to be relieved or disappointed.’ For an inexplicable reason, you thought you would be more memorable to him. However, would you have wanted that, seeing the actual circumstances under which that would be? Ugh.

As if he could read your mind, Sanji added in. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not planning on forgetting you anytime soon.’

‘I bet you say that to everyone.’ You rolled your eyes, to which he just smiled. ‘But really, I am sorry for what happened—especially to your suit.’

‘I care more about the noodles, honestly, don’t like seeing food go to waste—’ he drifted off with his thoughts before coming back up to the surface with another question, ‘speaking of noodles, where’d you meet this guy anyway?’

‘It’s complicated,’ you sighed, not wanting to burden him with your story, but from the eager attitude he was conveying as he managed his ingredients, he did not hold the same sentiment over it. ‘We had been friends for ages—out dads worked together—and it seemed, to everyone, apparently, like the natural progression of events that we would end up together.’

‘Everyone… except for you?’ he assumed, looking up at you from the counter space.

‘No, I mean, at first I thought so too, but over time… well, you saw it yourself. But by the time I had realised what a mess I had gotten myself into, it felt like I was already too late.’

‘How so?’ You heard the gentleness in his question like he was treading the topic lightly, not wanting to put any pressure on it or on you to answer.

‘Heard people talking he had been planning to propose.’ You shrugged it off. ‘But I doubt that will be happening anymore.’

‘What are you going to do now?’ The question came with that same carefulness but perhaps a bit more intrigue. You simply shrugged again.

‘Will probably have to find another ship to get back home on, as I can’t imagine he would want me on board with him.’ It was crazy you had not bothered to check but assumed that he had already taken off hours ago, leaving you behind to fend for yourself. ‘And then, if I see him again… well, not much else I can do but officially dump his ass.’

‘So I shouldn’t feel bad for what I did?’ He stopped what he was doing as he waited for an answer.

‘Absolutely not. I can’t thank you enough for doing that.’

The both of you shared sheepish smiles before you watched him work silently for a few more minutes. The tarte frames came out of the oven in a beautifully crisp golden tone, and he mixed the chocolate into a thick mousse while the rosy syrup lay back to cool off. While the two of you remained quiet, the kitchen was anything but that as his utensils clinked around the pans. You thought back to a few hours ago and how the silence at your table had been anything but this. You had sat in a cold dread, waiting for something to snap until it inevitably did. However, you sat back comfortably here, happily watching as Sanji focused on his work.

It really was his element. While you thought the man had been exemplary at waiting tables, it was nothing compared to the ease at which he performed here. Each move he made seemed like second nature to him.

‘Do all the waiters here know how to cook like this?’ you inquired, leaning in to see how he filled the pastries up, hands in a tight grip on the piping bag.

‘The ones that are cooks do,’ he chuckled.

‘You’re a cook?’ you blinked, ‘then what were you doing out there earlier?’

‘Ah, the old shitbag that runs this place likes to torture me and send me off to do the waitin’.’ He readjusted his hold on the piping bag, briefly stopping to wipe his hand on the towel tucked between his belt.

‘Doesn’t that bother you? I’m sure you’d much rather work here.’ You certainly would. Some people could be real assholes to serve… your former date being a prime example. But Sanji simply laughed it off.

‘Nah, not when beautiful women are out there waiting to be served.’ He stopped to look up at you with a shit-eating grin, and the unseriousness dripping off of it made you blush, smile along with him and push him back by his shoulder before you would do something else much more irrational. Perhaps a bit too hard, as he lost his balance, only finding it on the counter, exactly where the piping bag had been left behind. His palm fell right over the ending, bursting out the mousse in an unfortunate mess, spilling all over him and the counter.

‘Oh no,’ you said, covering your mouth but not the giggles from it, ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You think it’s funny, don’t you?’ He couldn’t keep his smile, but you shook your head harshly. ‘You’ll pay for this,’ he pointed his hand, covered in chocolate, at you. Several thoughts ran through your mind initially, but you managed to suppress most of them, opting for simply running your finger over the back of his hand where most of the mousse had spilt and giving it a taste.

‘That is really good.’ you hummed at the sweetness. Sanji stood back, somewhat frozen at what you had done, but quickly thawed out with a few blinks.

‘Well, what else did you expect?’ He wiped the rest of his hand on the towel at his side, ‘and I’ll have you know it’s rude to eat the food before it’s done. Takes away from the experience.’

‘I’m sorry,’ you pouted, ‘but I promise you I am still very much enjoying this whole experience.’

‘You better.’ Sanji said, taking the baking tray and putting it back in the oven for the last few minutes. With the oven door shut, he sighed and leaned against the counter opposite you. ‘Now we wait.’

‘How long exactly?’

‘In a rush, are we?’ He glanced at you from behind his hair, and the question made you heat up in the face. Because how could you explain to this practical stranger that you were feeling the opposite of what he insinuated. That you did not want this night to end at all. That being here with him, even if you were just waiting for a damn tart to bake, you were having more fun than you had had in weeks, if not longer. So, all you did was simply shake your head again.

‘It will be just a few minutes, and then gotta let it cool for a bit.’ He reassured you. That is when you noticed the bowl he had mixed the mousse in, mostly scraped clean while filling up the piping bag, but even the best chef can’t always scrape every last ounce out. Now, you might not have had any particular urge to leave any time soon, but you certainly were hungry, and having tasted just how delicious Sanji’s food was, you couldn’t help but lean in to get another little taste.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ He said, bemused, reaching to stop you from taking another swipe of mousse onto your finger. His hand gently grabbed your wrist, but he had been too late. When he caught you, you had your hand directly over your lips, looking up at him. He glared down at you in a daring manner.

You licked the chocolate off yourself as innocently as possible without bursting into laughter.

‘I can’t believe you’d do that.’ He took a step forward, nearly closing the gap between you. The presence of his body, so close to yours, almost touching, reverberated off of you with warmth, and suddenly, you felt the breath you had taken to be stuck in the back of your throat. ‘Did you not listen to anything I just said?’ His breath was hot against your skin, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it was a direct source of the skip in your heart.

‘Of course I did.’ You ignored the fast beating of your heart and the feeling like it might just burst out of your chest as you took him by the arm to give you some space and let you slide down the counter back onto your feet. ‘Something about experience and…’ you slid out from between him and the counter, and as you did so, swooped by the bowl of mousse with your finger one last time. ‘I forgot what else.’

‘You are unbelievable,’ Sanji reached for your hand, but you were quicker and manoeuvred around him and from his arm’s reach. Taunting him with the mousse, you walked around the work counters, and he, happily playing along, followed suit.

Like children, you ran around the kitchen, with him not far behind you, trying to catch you until he finally did, picking you up by the waist. Unintentionally, a squeak of a shriek came out of you, followed by both your laughs. You kept on laughing until you heard something outside the door. Heavy footsteps, freezing you both in your place until they moved on by. That is when you noted the time. Hours past midnight.

‘Are we even allowed to be in here at this time?’ You whispered as if the person who had walked by would suddenly be able to hear you.

‘Of course,’ Sanji said with confidence, but his expression juxtaposed this with signs that you could only read as “absolutely fucking not.” chances were that if you were caught in the kitchen at this time of night, you would be shot on the spot by, what did Sanji call him, the old shitbag.

But before you could run away in fear of getting caught, it was Sanji’s turn to take you by surprise. As you stood in his arms, he leaned in and wrapped his mouth around your finger, sucking all the chocolate right off. You could feel his tongue move down your knuckles and back up until he released it, leaving you stunned and wide-eyed.

‘I thought it’s rude to eat a dish before it’s done,’ you managed to sputter out.

‘So you did listen,’ he smiled, ‘but you might want to know that a good cook always tastes their dishes in the process, and that… was delicious.’

‘Are you always this humble about your cooking?’ Your heart was basically in your throat at this moment.

‘Wasn’t talking about the food,’ his tone was deep, sultry, as he leaned closer. ‘But care to give me another taste?’

Your breath was officially hitched in your throat, unable to breathe properly, as you stared at him, body flooding with heat and need for him. As words escaped you, you nodded lightly and leaned in as he did the same, meeting your lips in the middle with a kiss.

As soon as it happened, his arms found their spot on your side as you fastened yourself on his shoulders. It was nothing like you expected it to be. For a man spending his entire nights and days in the kitchen, he felt nothing like it. You could smell the cologne, taste the cigarettes and the fresh mint he used to conceal the former. His tender but firm touch held you in your place as he pressed closer.

There was a force to it, but nothing that you didn’t feel in yourself to copy as the need for him boiled deep inside you.

Your hand moved slowly up to his cheek, over to his hair at the nape of his neck.

One of his hands, in the meantime, had found your thigh, pulling it up over his leg as he squeezed your soft flesh, but before giving you a chance to even react to this new position and all its implications, Sanji moved.

Pulling apart, leaving your lips to be the last piece he detached from as he kept your bottom lip between his teeth lightly, he apologised, ‘Excuse me for a moment.’ because while you might have forgotten all about the world around you, he had still been keeping track of the tartelettes that were baking down in the oven.

He pulled the tray of pastries out with a white tea towel, practically throwing it down on the counter, discarding it with a metal clang.

‘Now we wait for them to cool,’ he explained as he got back to you.

‘And what were you planning on doing in the meantime,’ you pulled him back in by the blue ascot tie.

With his lips ghosting over yours, he half-whispered, ‘I might have a few things in mind,’ and with it, kissed you again. While the kiss itself was not much different, with that same intensity and passion running through both of you as before, now you were very much aware of what was to follow. If it wasn’t your need that spurred you on, then it was Sanji and his eagerness. Despite his chef’s uniform and the navy apron, you could feel him grow harder against you as the kiss continued. A moan escaped you as his lips travelled down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses one by one until he reached a spot that was more sensitive than others. The simple touch sparked a fuse inside you.

As he continued playing with your sensitive skin, he led both your bodies to one of the empty tables at the side of the room, pressing you right against the edge and locking you in between it and him.

Without needing him to say a word, you understood exactly what you needed to do and climbed on top of the table, spreading your legs to make space for him right in the middle.

Your dress might have hiked up slightly over your thighs, but it wasn’t enough for Sanji, who took it upon himself to pull it up.

‘I hope you don’t mind me saying’,’ he smiled as he kissed the corner of your mouth and as his hand reached the top of your leg, ‘but I had been thinkin' about this ever since I saw you.’

‘Me too,’ you exhaled deeply, letting the confession sink in. Maybe Chosi was right after all. Now, with him out of the picture, you could admit that something had been there from the start, from the moment you caught a glimpse of the waiter cook. And if it wasn’t for all the shit that occurred that day, maybe you would have felt a twinge of guilt as you guided Sanji’s hand between your legs. If you had not shut that chapter behind you, perhaps you would have felt bad, but any insecurities of that disappeared as Sanji began to toy with your core. His slender fingers grazed slowly over your slit, putting enough pressure on it to make you arch your back in need of more.

‘Already so needy,’ he smirked. ‘And I barely touched you.’

‘Touch me then,’ you said with gritted teeth.

‘Don’t need to tell me twice.’ His fingers moved up in pace and barely went any deeper, keeping you on the edge of satisfaction. ‘And what would madame like me to do?’ He threaded his movements, and you were growing impatient with the teasing.

‘Fuck me,’ ready to hear his next question, you added, ‘I don’t care how.’

His grin only grew wider at your words. Much to your dislike, he pulled his hand away to place both at your thighs, pressing his fingers into your skin and using that as leverage to make more space for himself in between.

‘As madame wishes.’ He spoke softly right below your ear as he descended onto his knees.

The kiss he left over your panties already invoked a tremble through your entire body, and it only got worse from there, in the best sense. He pushed your underwear aside and took his time giving you all his attention and care. Kissing your core deeply until his nose pressed up against you. His tongue licked up your juices like a starving man until your eyes rolled back, and you felt weak.

The table you were perched on was empty, so you only had Sanji to hold on to. At first, you reached for his shoulder, but it was just not high enough for you to find support. As you tried to look for it, Sanji reached for your hand and brought it up to the side of his head for you to tangle your fingers in his light locks. Before you even managed to grab onto them, simply letting your nails trace over his hair, you felt the vibrations of his moans strike you. Another deep blow to your senses pulled you further down to the edge. Closer and closer until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your grip on his hair tightened as your breath grew sporadic.

‘Fuck, fuck,’ you moaned, voice filled with desperation for a release, and one that Sanji would be more than pleased to give you… just not quite yet. As he pulled away from you, you deflated with the feeling of a ruined climax and the urge to pull him back to finish what he had started, but all you could do was whimper in protest.

‘Don’t worry,’ he kissed your knee softly, ‘all in good time. I promise to take good care of you,’ and with that, he rose back up to his feet, untying his apron.

‘That was good,’ your chest still moving up and down heavily as you caught your breath. ‘Really good.’

‘It pleases me to hear that,’ he said as he threw the apron aside onto the ground. ‘And believe me, I would love to go back for seconds—’

‘Does all your pillow talk stem from restaurant jargon?’ you interrupted jokingly.

‘You laugh, and yet you’re the one begging me to fuck you.’ God, he was so cocky, with the way he stood there in front of you, his head tilted sideways, and his lip turned up in a grin that told you he knew he was right. ‘So, please, let me.’ His hand was already on his belt buckle.

There was no time or need for either of you to undress. With your dress hiked up to your hips, he already had easy enough access, and once his belt was loose, it only took a few sharp pulls for you to release him from the material restraints.

‘You ready?’ he asked.

‘For the love of god,’ grabbing him by the arm, you pulled him in, ‘stop talking and just take me.’ You knew he was about to respond, but before he got the chance to make another absurdly silly but nonetheless flirtatious comment, you shit him up with a kiss. Just like that, the two of you melted into one another. Sanji made himself comfortable between you and let his lips wander down to your neck again, to that one spot he found that drove you crazy.

He kept kissing your neck as he finally slid into you. The two feelings made your body go weak, melting you into a puddle of burning nerves as he spread your walls and filled you up perfectly.

First, he moved slowly, but with each thrust, he sped up more and more, putting more force into it until you were both shaking with ferocity, and the table underneath you scratched over the planks it stood upon. The sound of the tortured floor was the only thing covering up both your moans and that of the messy skin-to-skin contact.

While he practically pounded into you, you reached for his hair again. There was just something about it: how messy you managed to make it with a few tugs and brushstrokes. All of it, how he acted and reacted, it was all in response to you. Just how he made you see stars with each move he made.

‘Feels so good, fuck,’ he groaned over your shoulder as you grabbed for his, pulling him closer if possible. He had your legs pressed against his sides. He shook his head quickly, letting the hair flick out of his sight, but the attempt was poor as the lock quickly fell back over his eye despite his efforts.

‘San–’ you moaned, ‘Sanji–’

‘That’s right,’ he might as well have been kissing you, so close were his lips to you, but instead, the only thing you truly felt was his hot breath on your skin as he kept going deeper and harder. ‘Gonna come for me? His voice got even deeper the longer he kept going. At the sound of it, your nails dug into his back, his striped shirt being the only thing saving him from possibly some nasty scratches, but it seemed to only spur him on more. ‘I–’ you gasped out as you felt him hit the deepest part of you.

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m close, fuck.’ the pit in your stomach tightened, your muscles strained as you tried to hold on to that feeling of pleasure he brought over you. The tension built up like a band being pulled tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment; he had you in his grip, waiting to let go of you at the exact right time. All you needed was that touch, just the right one in the right spot.

You could feel it all. Could feel just how close he was himself as his thrusts got sloppier, and his breathing grew heavier and rougher between his words. ‘Yeah, c’mon. I know you can do it. Come all over my cock. ‘’s gonna feel so good, I promise you.’

The encouragement might not have been necessarily what did it. It was more like a concoction of things that all led to this precise moment when ecstasy overtook your body and washed over you like a hot flash. Sanji was not far behind you, riding his high as he ensured you got to yours. His movements slowed down as you felt the cum slick down your thighs. While you both caught your breath, it became quiet once more.

It took you a bit longer to catch up on air in your lungs, and so while you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, you heard Sanji zip his trousers back up and lightly walk across the aisle between the workstations. When you opened your eyes again, he was making his way back to you already, a handful of paper towels in his hand.

Despite the burn you already felt in your sore muscles, you spread your legs one last time to give him access to clean you up. His soft touches to your sensitive core now were in stark contrast to what he had been doing to you moments ago, but the cold of the damp towel brought a nice sense of comfort.

‘You think you can stand up for me?’ he asked gently, and the little words in that tone were enough to make your heart flutter.

‘Yeah, I think so.’ You said, but that was quickly proven wrong when your knees buckled almost immediately when your feet touched the ground. It was only because of the way that Sanji held your arm that you had not completely toppled over.

‘Woah, alright.’ He smiled, never letting go of you, ‘How about we just sit for now.’ Slowly, he guided you to sit on the ground, back against a cabinet. ‘Water?’

You nodded in agreement. The question had made you realise just how parched you were.

‘Still, sparkling, mineral?’

‘Surprise me.’ You said through a tired smile at the reference to how he waited on you earlier, but moments later, you reminded yourself of your preference, ‘just not sparkling! It just tastes foul.’

‘Anything but sparkling water, coming right up.’ He moved around the room to pour you some surprise water, and while he did so, you pressed your face into your hands, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Less than 12 hours ago, you had been walking up the deck, arm in arm, with your good-for-nothing boyfriend, soon-to-be fiance. Now you sat on the ground of a restaurant kitchen, with no idea where said–now ex–-boyfriend was in the world, coming down from one of the best orgasms you had ever received… all by the hand of a stranger. A handsome stranger at that. One that you could imagine seeing much more of in the future, but it was all just too silly.

And you were tired. And hungry.

‘Voila,’ Sanji appeared in front of you with impeccable timing, a large ice-cold looking glass in one hand, filled with ice cubes and cucumber, and two plates in the other hand. The rose and chocolate meringue tartes look particularly inviting. ‘Thought you might finally want to try one,’ he said as he handed you a plate and fork.

‘I swear, you’re a godsend.’ No matter in how much need you were of a drink, the sight of the dessert made your mouth water.

‘Ah, just a little something sweet for—’

‘If you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say, I will shove this tarte in your face.’ One could only endure so much of this sappy flirting, even if you found it very endearing. Sanji shut his mouth and sat beside you, poking his fork into his portion.

The two of you ate quickly but still took enough time to appreciate the flavours that oozed out of the pastry and its filling. The moan you made as it all reached your tastebuds might have been more pornographic than any sound you made while he had been deep inside you.

‘Mmm, this is delicious,’ you said through another bite. The praise brought a huge smile to the cook’s lips. ‘Seriously, thank you. For everything.’

‘It’s been my pleasure,’ he spoke in a way that almost made you think he was getting shy on you. That felt unlikely, but you let him process it all for a moment as you kept eating.

Only once you had eaten everything off your plate did you ask your next question of the evening. ‘How did you know I would like this?’

‘It’s a chef’s best trait,’ he pulled the fork out of his mouth with a pop, ‘to be able to read their customers well. To be able to tell what they like or dislike; to know them better than they know themselves.’

‘But how?’ With intrigue, you moved closer to him. He had been leaning against the same cupboard as you, one of his knees raised up and an arm hanging casually over it. His hair was still messy, falling over his eye. ‘How could you tell I would enjoy this specific dish?’

The one unobstructed eye fell over you, looking up and down over your body as his mischievous smile reappeared. ‘It felt fitting.’

‘How so?’ You blinked, confused as to what he meant.

‘Sweet, decadent and hot; what’s there not to like? I mean—’ he leaned in over his arm to kiss you, feather-light. Then, he hummed as he pulled back. ‘It is an absolutely divine combination.’

Your cheeks burned up for what felt like the millionth time that evening, and you could not dare keep looking at him as he stared down at you with that innate hunger. That kind that could only be filled with one thing, and it just so happened to have wholly exhausted you.

‘Is this still all part of that special of yours?’

To this, Sanji shrugged, ‘Depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On how long you want to keep me around.’ He scraped some leftover mousse from his plate, licking it off his fork.

‘I think for a while,’ you admitted. Yeah, you definitely hadn’t had enough of him yet.

‘Well, then there’s so much more I can do for you, madame.’

the end

thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and commenting-either through the comments, in a reblog or through my inbox <3 to hear your thoughts on my writing means the world to me and really is a huge help in motivation to keep going.

you can find my other writing here

#opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #sanji fanfiction #sanji fanfic #sanji #sanji vinsmoke #sanji vinsmoke x reader #one piece live action #one piece live action fanfiction #opla fanfiction #opla #opla x reader #opla x y/n #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n

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luffysinterlude · 3 months

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random thoughts…i’m sick in bed and my imagination gifted me this (im barely getting to dressrosa in the manga like i have no idea how canonically correct this is, forgive me) / (use of yn, fem!reader in mind, but kinda like an oc?,, zoro x reader/oc bc yes i’m biased):

donquixote!yn who escapes the family with her brother Law, only to be split up…couple of years later Law finds himself staring back at your bounty poster. a bold 77,000$ written just below…Trafalgar D. Cupid (takes Law’s name AND an alias because doflamingo is a scary man). he smiles to himself, a feeling of pride filling his chest, knowing you’re somewhere out there. he reads that you’re apart of Straw Hat Luffy’s crew, the captain who took down Crocodile in Alabasta. he makes a mental note to keep an eye on the Straw Hats, knowing how you wouldn’t have joined the guy’s crew if he wasn’t strong. mostly, just to keep an eye on you.

“oh, it’s yn, isn’t it?” Bepo beams, interrupting Law’s thoughts. “lemme see, captain.” Law barely gets to react before a paw reaches over and snatches the paper out of his hands.

“AWWWWWW. IT’S REALLY OUR YN!! Cupid, huh? still an archer….oh wow she looks so cool!! so grown up…!” The rest of the Heart Pirates gather around Bepo, all wanting to see the sister of their Captain. Aww’s and gasps fill the room as Law thinks of you, hoping that wherever you are and wherever you go, you’re safe. If anything were to happen to you, he’ll kill Straw Hat Luffy himself, and gift his heart to Sengoku in person.

somewhere across the grand line, your legs drag you to your shared quarters…throwing your bow and arrows to the side of your bedpost, you soon find yourself face planting into the mattress…muscles aching from the intense training you’ve just finished with Zoro. you feel yourself slipping into a deep slumber, that’s only until Nami barges in with a newspaper in her hand, shoving it in your face.

“YN!! LOOK!!”

on the cover, the name Trafalgar D. Law is written in bold, but it’s the striking 1,000,000$ written beneath it that make your eyes bulge…

“HUUUUUUUUUUUUUH?!?!” Law must be a captain now….the thought makes you worried sick but at the same time curious…where have you been Law?!

“it says here your brother’s the captain of the Heart Pirates!!” a part of you wants to dwell the fact you’re technically your brother’s enemy…wants to dwell on the fact that the Heart Pirates was a dream of yours once, too. but you can’t — the tears of joy overwhelm every negative emotion, and soon your bursting out crying because you’re so proud of big brother Law. “i bet he’s proud of you too, yn.”

“i just hope he’s okay. life hasn’t been the easiest on either of us and….” your thoughts halt for a moment. you think of what Law would say if he were to be sitting in Nami’s seat right now…”c’mon yn, stop being a baby! stop cryin’, you’re stronger than that. i’m okay, we’re okay.”

you blink away those sappy thoughts as you shake your head, slightly smiling at the memory. you take a deep breath before shooting the ginger a small smile, “he’s okay. and i’m so happy.” you stare at her with loving eyes, before throwing yourself into an embrace with her. Nami reminded you of Law somehow, maybe the familial feeling you get from her, but she’s truly the one person who really knows you…aside from…

“though, i wonder how he’d react if he met Zoro.”

#luffysinterlude #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece au #literally so sick rn #this is what im thinking of #never been an oc typa person before but i’m lowkey digging it #one piece oc #one piece x oc #Cupid ❤️‍🩹 I’ll take such good care of you #i wish i knew how to draw

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lawomi · 7 months

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S-Leopard or... Leo! He only ever emotes to Bepo for some time lol.

OC Omi is She/Any nonbinary

🔞 Bluesky 💃

S-Leopard or S-Seal headcanons/speculation because fun or something-- under cut

So, I'm highly doubting this seraphim exists for various reasons. Two being:

1) Law was not part of the first 7 warlords

2) The Op Op Fruit would be god damn op

3 (edit): lmao the recent anime episode reminded me they were shown all 7 seraphim pods. However, this *is* a special case, so who freaking knows.

Leo is likely not the first of the S-Leopard model to exist thanks to the ability to grant immortality. One work around I assume is maybe the seraphim can be "repaired"?

Hence...

Since these seraphim may have been multi-produced to give people immortality, they may not have been given the whole hyper-aging or gigantification the other seraphim experience.

While he obviously takes most after Law, he also has some traits of King as the other seraphim do.

Leo has...

Incredible strength & training

The ability to memorize entire books within seconds to minutes.

Adaptability to new techniques or battle styles.

A smaller replica of Kikoku

A love for soft & cute animals (resulting in Bepo being his "favorite" parent but mom's a close second since she's a mink too.)

A serious personality + is impulsive and short tempered

A love for knowledge / Medical knowledge

Law's core beliefs such as not directly killing people unnecessarily

Some of Law's core memories (although vague) of the Donquixote family.

A similar taste pallet and dress preference to Law (and King)

I like to think since seraphim are cyborgs they have humanity. Leo tends to gather his morals the more he reads about things like psychology, social studies, history, ext as well as the Heart Pirates' influences.

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redriotinggg · 8 months

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Hey I saw your post about Zoro and Sanji getting jealous over every person they meet getting a crush on Usopp and it reminded me that I made up an entire Pirate Crew OC's with the sole purpose of all of them having a crush on Usopp (because he deserves having a bunch of people fawning over him <3) and how this bleeds to Zoro and Sanji (and to a minor degree Nami and Luffy) to get a little more "possesive" over him like sitting closer to him, glaring at the other crew members (Luffy in his Luffy way), more physical contact (specially Sanji), Usopp meanwhile thinks its all really funny but tries not to think too much about it or he'll get really flustered

Meanwhile the other crew is just chilling talking amongst them how cute the Strawhats Sniper is, mildly oblivious to the rest of the crew's murder looks (as in, lets ignore it because obviously that guy is taken and we respect that)

Anon your brain is so gigantonormous……… I’d like to assign myself the role of Captain of the Usopp Admirers.

IDK what your OCs are like but I imagine that a scenario such as this can go as follows:

The Straw Hats are hanging around on an island while they wait for their log pose to reset and they run into another pirate group. Luckily, the other pirates are similar in their interest in having fun adventures rather than looting or pillaging. It's good times all around as the two crews laugh party, eat, and drink. It doesn't take long for Usopp to take his place on the main stage and grab everyone's attention as he shares the dramatic tales of the Straw Hats. His crew mates are watching fondly as the other pirates are left starstruck by their sniper and storyteller. Usopp happily plays his role as an entertainer--dancing, singing, telling jokes, doing magic tricks, and showing off his sniping skills. The other crew head back to their ship that first night singing Usopp's praises.

Over the next few days, the pirate crews mingle and it soon becomes clear to the Straw Hats that their new friends are completely enraptured by Usopp. The rest of the Straw Hats are chopped liver compared to their sniper, only made worse by him playing into it and soaking up all the attention. Nami can't help but feel scorned when she catches him fixing up a weapon for one of the other pirates. Luffy frowns when someone on the other crew throws an arm around Usopp's shoulder. Sanji bites his cigarette in half when Usopp is handfed food made by the other pirate crew's chef. Zoro grips the hilt of his sword when he goes to one of the other pirates for protection.

The Straw Hats are a possessive bunch, so it doesn't take long for the other pirates to realize that their admiration of Usopp is going to have to remain platonic. If looks could kill Zoro would've slain them a thousand times over. He doesn't say much, but he stays near Usopp and glares when one of the other pirates gets too close. Nami makes sly comments about their sniper, who is their priceless treasure. Sanji is even touchier than usual as he runs his hands over Usopp's arms, holds his hand, and tugs on his hair. Luffy doesn't bother hiding his jealousy. When his frustration boils over he grabs Usopp and yells that Usopp is his sniper and they can’t have him!

As his partners, Zoro and Sanji can’t simply allow for their boyfriend to be accosted right in front of their eyes. They kiss him right in front of everyone. They whisper promises in his ear that make him go red in the face. Sanji calls him pet names and Zoro holds him from behind.

Usopp is absolutely loving all of the attention. He's embarrassed because he doesn't really understand why he's the one being fawned over, but he'll happily soak up all the adoration. He loves seeing how much his nakama care for him and it's pretty funny to see how possessive they can be.

The other crew find the Straw Hats’ possessiveness amusing, and they’re glad that Usopp is part of a crew that loves and value him so much. They leave the island with lots of hugs and compliments for their favourite sniper and promises to meet up later on the Grand Line.

“Usopp, love?” Sanji says once the other pirates’ ship is out of sight. “Let’s avoid entertaining affections from other pirates in the future, hm?”

Zoro nods, arms crossed. “Don’t entertain anyone. You don’t need them. You have us.”

Usopp laughs and buries himself further in their arms. “Hey, it’s not my fault that everyone wants a piece of the Great Captain Usopp. But yeah, okay. You guys are all I need.”

#zosanuso #zosansopp #east blue polycule #east blue crew #strawhats #sanuso #zosopp #one piece #AAAAAHHH I LOVE THEM #this was fun i love people loving usopp #red’s asks

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madam-o · 10 months

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Back on my BS about this "Old Men" thing again

I'm about to repeat myself, and maybe I'm being too sensitive about this and should just let the tumblr community go on with its misconceptions about how aging works. However, this is a fandom pet peeve that won't leave me alone.

There are several old characters in One Piece. Garp definitely is at 78, and Zeff has retired from pirating to his restaurant at 67, although Garp is still working at his naval career and kicking ass at it, I'll remind you. A lot of the toughest to beat characters in OP are oldies, in fact. Advanced age in One Piece tends to bring with it more power, more wisdom, or both. It's much harder to bring a tough old person down in that world than in this one. Several OP characters are even older than 100 and still perfectly healthy (granted, a lot of them are giants, who can live for centuries).

So why are characters like Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk, Crocodile, etc. often described as "old men" in a humorously deprecating fashion by the fandom? Is it because they're sexy and over 35 and that's somehow hard to deal with?

Do you know how old Chris Evans is? 42. Chris Hemsworth? Henry Cavill? Both are 40. Even babyface Timothee Chalamet, who looks about 16, is a lot older than you'd think at 27.

I'm sorry to tell you this, but most of the hottest people on Earth are over 25, and a LOT of them are over 40. And that's OKAY. You're not a pervy weirdo for being attracted to them.

So you can joke about Shanks and Buggy being old, but they're both still in their 30's and likely haven't even hit their peaks yet. Mihawk and Croc are in their mid-40's and two of the scariest mfers out there. Btw, Doflamingo's 41, just in case you didn't know.

It especially irks me when writers have these characters ashamedly refer to themselves as old. I don't think being in your 30's-to-40's is considered a negative in the OP world for one thing, especially for fighters. You're coming into your prime around then, with a lot of room to keep growing.

If age gaps are a problem for you in fic writing, maybe you should try aging up your oc's. Or just accept that you're gonna hit 30 sooner than you think and then you'll finally realize how young that actually is. We're living in a youth-obsessed culture, but the One Piece world is a lot more sensible.

#buggy the clown #shanks #one piece #sir crocodile #crocodile one piece #opla #dracule mihawk

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alleywayrat · 10 months

Text

Fluff Alphabet - LA!Sanji x Reader

Warnings - none really just fluff, no use of y/n, kinda long ig, I don't think I used any gendered terms but please tell me if I did, might be a bit oc? I'm new to writing fanfics so idk (I've only watched the LA one piece so I'm writing based off that one)

I got this fluff alphabet from @anonymousbeefriend-fanfics (I just searched up fluff alphabet template)

(I'm so desperately in love with him😔)

Activities – What are their favorite things to do with you? How do you spend your free time?

Obviously, Sanji loves cooking with you. His free time is mostly taken up by cooking to satiate Luffy's enormous appetite, so if you spend it with him he's even more head over heels for you. If you just want to sit and keep him company while he cooks, he'll love it. If you want to sit and tell him everything that comes to your mind, he'll gladly listen. Sanji loves listening to you, your voice, learning things about you, your opinions, likes and dislikes. He'd listen to you forever. But if you prefer sitting in silence with him, he loves it too. Just your presence calms him, seeing you chill out with him has him staring at you for a little too long. Sanji would love it if you cooked with you. It doesn't matter if you know how to cook or not, he loves sharing his passion with you.

Boo! – How do they feel about surprises, giving and receiving?

Sanji loves romantic surprises. When he's receiving them it just makes him fall in love with you all over again. Knowing you love and care about him enough to put this effort into surprising him, whether that be by a dinner, picnic, or any other kind of surprise, he just loves it. When he finally sees the surprise, he'll kind of just stand there, looking at you with all the love in his eyes. Nobody's ever done this for him before, and his hearts about to burst. When Sanji's giving a surprise, he wants it to be perfect. If he's planning like a romantic dinner for you two, he'll whip up something for the strawhats dinner and then spend time meticulously making your favorite food, after having asked someone to keep you busy so he can keep it a surprise. If your docked he'll have gone out to look for a nice spot to have your dinner, but if you're sailing it'll probably be by Nami's trees (that seems like a nice spot). He loves making you feel loved and reminding you how much he loves you.

Comfort – How do they comfort you when you’re upset? When the tables turn, do they come to you, or try to handle it themselves?

Of the Strawhat pirates Sanji is definitely one of the better ones at dealing with emotions, he's a bit more in tune with his own and others more than some of his crewmates. So if you're upset he'll definitely notice the changes in your behavior. If you avoid everyone, or lash out, he notices. No matter how close he is with you when it happens, he pays attention to all of his crewmates, and knows when something's off. He comes to find you, making sure nobody's going to try to bother you guys. Sanji might be sweet with his words, but when it comes to comfort he prefers to rely on his actions. He might bring you your favorite tea (or other calming drink), he wants to make you feel safe and understood, because while he might not have been through what you're going through, he wants you to know that he's there for you, and he's always going to be there for you.

Dance – Do they like to dance with you? How good of a dancer are they?

Sanji would love to dance with you in the dark of night. A night you both can't sleep, you go to the kitchen for a snack or a drink, and you find him there, chopping away in his safe space. Coming up behind him, you run your hands up his waist, kissing his neck softly. He hums softly as you caress him. "Can't sleep?" He asks, turning around to kiss you properly. "Couldn't you" Your hands glide up his body to wrap around his neck, his soft skin emitting a soothing warmth. He starts swaying you around the kitchen, his hands around your waist, your head resting on his chest. He would give anything for this moment to last forever.

Excitement – How do they act when they’re excited? What excites them?

(I really want to say he would squeal yk like Ken from barbie life in the dreamhouse just like a high pitched "EEEEEE!" idk how to write that but do you see my vision okay nvm) When Sanji gets excited I feel like he talks a lot and it just goes on and on, he's just talking about anything and everything related to what he's excited about. He gives me like rambler vibes but only if he's close to you and he knows you're actually interested in what he has to say and you won't make fun of him.

Future – What are their plans for the future? Do they see themselves getting married, having kids?

Sanji would love to marry you. He loves you so much, he wants to have you by him forever, his absolute partner. I definitely see Sanji as wanting kids, he wants to be the best father to them.

Gifts – What do they give you as presents? How often do they get you gifts?

Sanji want to show you how much he loves you, all the time. His gifts are usually handmade, he likes to pour his heart into what he makes you. Also cooking gifts obviously he would love to make you your favorite drink, dessert, meal, anything to show how much he cares about you.

Hold – How do they hold you? Cuddling, sleeping, holding hands…

When you guys are sleeping or cuddling, he likes to hold you. It’s his protective side, he wants to make sure you’re safe in his arms. Your head laying in his chest, his arms wrapped around you. When you’re out and not sleeping he likes to have his hand on you in some way at least a bit, holding hands, his hand on your back as your walking, he loves touching you.

Ideal – What’s their ideal date like?

Sanji’s idea date is just the two of you, taking time for eachother to spend time just alone. Maybe it’s a picnic on an island you’re docked on, out in a forest clearing, watching the stars while laying by eachother, laughing and pointing out the constellations you know, talking about anything and everything, falling into a comfortable silence as you enjoy the feeling of eachother.

Jealousy – Do they get jealous easily? How do they handle it?

Sanji doesn’t get overly jealous, but just a little bit. When he sees another guy talking to you, as if he’s good enough for you? Terrible, he’s the possessive kind of jealous, he’d go up to you talking to the guy, wrap his hand around your waist and kiss your forehead while staring the guy down. He’s yours and you’re his, and he needs this guy to know it.

Kisses – How do they like to kiss you? How frequently do you kiss?

Sanji could never get enough of you, of your lips, against his skin, his own lips. He would kiss you all day everyday if he could but he sadly can’t 😔 poor Sanji so deprived of love and kisses. He loves kissing you all over, and loves it when you kiss him all over. He prefers to keep most of his kisses for private, the ones that are just for the two of you. But he doesn’t mind chaste kisses out on the deck, or giving you pecks in front of the crew. It’s just the passionate kisses, the ones where he’s putting all of his love onto your lips, that he wants private.

Love – How do they show you that they love you?

I’ve definitely said this a ton but Sanji LOVES cooking for you it’s just one of the ways he knows he can show you how much he loves you, but besides that he has other things too he’s not only a chef but your loving boyfriend. Sanji pays attention to you, all of your tells and quirks, he knows them all. He knows the signs of when you’re angry, sad, or annoyed. He knows when to give you space, and when to hold you. He shows you he loves you by taking time for you, he’ll always make time for you. There’s no one he’d rather spend time with.

Melt – What do you do that absolutely makes them melt?

Sanji absolutely melts when you hold his face. He’s not used to soft touches, so when you hold him softly, caressing his cheeks, brushing his hair, soft moments just make him melt into a puddle of sappy love. Please hold him he needs it.

Nicknames – What do they call you, and what are their favorite things to be called?

Sanji loves giving you nicknames, like love/beloved, my sweet, my one and only, all those really sweet and sappy ones yk. Sanji loves it when you call him nicknames, but his favorite thing you call him is his name, the way it slips off your tongue and out of your mouth graces his ears every time.

Obvious – How obvious do they make it that they like you?

As we all know Sanji flirts with so many people. So before you guys got together it’s hard to take him seriously when he flirts with you, you think he’s just acting the way he does around everyone else. Sanji is kinda oblivious as to why you aren’t responding to his advances, so he’s all “Aw man do they not like me😖” I love him aw anyways it’s not until Sanji flat out tells you he’s in love with you and was wondering if you don’t like him because you never seem to notice his interest and you guys finally both confess because you both thought the other didn’t like you.

Pets – Do they have pets? Do they want them?

Ignore this one being short but I can’t see Sanji having or wanting pets (but I’d force him to deal with my cats anyways)

Quiet – How are the calm, quiet moments with them?

Calm and quiet isn’t something that happens often with the strawhats, but when you do get it make sure to cherish it. Night spent with you two holding eachother in your arms, you don’t need to talk, just breathe, relax, don’t worry about anything. Spending time when Sanji’s cooking resting close by him, just taking in each others presence.

Romance – How romantic are they? What are their go-to ways of being romantic?

Is Sanji romantic? Is the grass green? Is the sky blue? Is water wet? Am I in love with him? Yes Sanji is a romantic, a hopeless romantic, a sappy, cliche, romantic, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Everything he does for you he pours so much love and care into it. You’re his everything, and he always wants you to know that.

Safe – What makes them feel safe and comfortable around you?

Sanji feels safe around you when you don’t rag on him for being himself, when you don’t get annoyed or say it’s weird when he shows his emotion. He feels safe around you because he can be himself, be vulnerable. Growing up with pirates you don’t get to be vulnerable, so when you take care of him and are soft and caring when he finally takes that chance, he knows he’s safe around you.

Tend – How do they act when you’re hurt or sick, and vice versa?

Super overprotective of you when you’re sick. He knows you’re strong and can take care of yourself, but when your sick? He’s taking care of everything for you. Making you soups and old recipes to help you get better, always checking up on you, making sure he’s doing whatever he can to help and make you comfortable. When Sanji is sick, disaster. He takes being sick better than a lot of guys, but it’s still not good. He tried to argue that he’s perfectly fine and can get back to work and to not worry about it then he’d try to stand up and fall on you. You need to force him to rest, or else he’ll keep trying to get back to work. Take care of him while he’s sick and he’s melting, you’re just so caring and he’s just so I love with you.

Unique – What’s an unusual thing about them that’s oddly charming?

The way Sanji looks at you when you’re not looking. You’ll never see it, but the others do. He looks at you like you’re the sun and the moon, the very stars in the sky. He looks at you with all the love in his eyes and while you never see it, you can always feel his love.

Variety – Do they prefer to keep things the same, or spice it up?

Sanji loves to spice up your relationship and try new things, different date ideas, different ways to spend time together or finding new ways to spice up what you already do, but don’t be fooled, when things are the same he still loves it. He could never get tired of the things he does with you. A routine calms him down and having you in that routine just makes it all better.

Wash – What’s it like taking a bath with them, or helping them wash up after a fight?

Taking a regular bath with Sanji is nice, calming and relaxing. He loves helping wash you, his hands running over your skin, through your hair. And he loves it when you help him, the feeling of your hands, scrubbing him, being so soft on his skin, on his hair. The feeling of you taking care of him is amazing. If you were cleaning up after a fight he’s checking you everywhere for wounds, cleaning the ones he finds and leaving soft kisses around them.

XO – How do they show you affection? How much PDA are they willing to show?

Sanji doesn’t have anything against PDA, he loves showing you off and loves having people know you’re together. Now, of course if you’re not comfortable with it, he respect that, he always respects your boundaries. If you don’t like big acts of pda or even just kissing out in public he’ll just hold your hand or be especially close to you all the time.

Yearn – What do they do when they miss you?

When Sanji misses you his demeanor changes slightly, he gets annoyed at the others a bit more easily, and he’s distracted, he just misses you so much, how could he focus when you’re not around? If you’re gone for awhile he’ll make things that remind him of you, your favorite foods, eating them thinking of how you react whenever he makes it.

Zzz – How do they act when they get sleepy? How is it sleeping in the same bed?

Sleepy Sanji is fighting so hard against the sleepy allegations. He’s not tired! He just needs to get back to work but don’t listen to him he’s a liar. Drag him to bed, and he’ll go with minimal whining but he appreciates it really he does. He loves laying with you, it’s so comforting. I see Sanji as somebody who moves around during his sleep, just a bit. He just shifts a lot. Sleeping with him is the best, he’s so warm and with his wrapped around you you’re gonna be so cozy and snuggled up.

YAAA this took so long to write ty for reading🫶🫶

#sanji x reader #one piece x reader #opla x reader #op x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader

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zealfruity · 7 days

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Collection of star wars related stuff I'm probably never finishing. These have been sketches for ages.

(1 is cyberpunk style echo; 2 is padme and anakin because i found a photo that reminded me of them; 3 is cake, query, and poppy, the youngests of Gold Squad and therefore the chaos children; 4 is a mandosona i talked abt months ago; 5 is a commander shard post o66 when he's healed up from his head injury and doing on-the-run shenanigans with his pirate boyfriend, whom ive never shown or mentioned; 6 is zeiyva and winko on a beach day, back when i was working on the 212th beach episode drawing; and 7 is fives, echo, and oc wraith as cowboys in my friend @mothartella 's dystopian western cowboy world)

#my art #wips #star wars #clone wars #star wars ocs #tcw fives #tbb echo #mandosona #padme amidala #anaking skywalker #clone oc #jedi oc #fanart #digital art #sketches #character design

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giddlygoat · 1 year

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i have lots of unfinished stuff lol. first one is just me trying to figure out how to draw stanley. second is an idea for an au where the narrator gets trapped in a computer [which i got inspired for via some cool but sadly uncredited fanart on pinterest rip [i hate art pirates <3]]

last two are inspired by an AMAZING fic which you can read here. i am like 98% sure the authors both have tumblr but i can’t find them in their ao3 profiles so if anyone happens to know them please tag them or let me know! i had this vivid image of the narrator typing on his tiny laptop like an old writer guy i knew growing up. he would go to my favorite coffee shop everyday and type his stories for hours and it reminded me of the narrator’s set up in this fic. really solid writing and cool ocs, 1000/10 everyone should read it rn <3

#tsp #the stanley parable #stanley tsp #the narrator tsp #stanley #the narrator #stannarrator #tsp computer au #just incase i end up developing that more lol #giddly’s art

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violettduchess · 5 months

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A/N: It's been a long haul but it's finally done! Thank you to @lorei-writes for all the encouragement and advice and for helping me take a step into an area of fanfic I never really considered exploring before!

OC Captain Leyla Quinn x Silvio Ricci

Their first meeting

WC: 4k

The sight of sunlight glistening off the waters of the bay never fails to bring Leyla a sense of calm. The brightness dancing along the wavering surface feels like it echoes through her bones, steadying and strengthening her, as real and solid as the wooden dock beneath her boots or the hand that suddenly clamps down on her shoulder.

What the….

With a sharp intake of air, she turns to find Kai, her trusted Quartermaster, has joined her on the pier. The sunlight winks off his bald head and the gold hoop in his ear. Leyla isn’t a short woman but next to Kai, anyone would feel small. He reminds her of the giant Oak trees found in the forests of his native Obsidian: tall, broad, imposing. He gestures with one muscular arm and the orange kraken tattooed from wrist to elbow undulates with the movement.

“Shipwright says repairs will be done by tomorrow.”

Siren’s Call, her ship, took some minor damage before reaching the Tourmaline port thanks to a particularly nasty storm that harrowed them on the last day of their journey. She knew the damage was minimal but keeping the ship in tip-top shape was one of Leyla’s biggest concerns. She had seen firsthand what could happen when a captain became lackadaisical with the care of their ship and when she had become Siren’s Call’s owner, she vowed to never be so complacent.

She shifts her sky-blue gaze over to where the ship is docked. Several figures can be seen scurrying around the deck. She recognizes several members of her crew and grins slowly when she notices Amani, her boatswain, is among them.

“Amani's got a handle on things, I’m sure.” Fiery Amani from the mystical land of Tanzanite with her explosion of lilac curls and stormy gray eyes sometimes scares Leyla with how well she knows Siren’s Call, almost as if she and the ship share a mind and a soul. She wouldn’t let them get away with so much as an off-center nail.

Kai’s laughter greets her ears like a roll of jolly thunder. “She’s probably the reason they’re almost done, the little terror.”

“Captain Quinn!”

Leyla and Kai both turn at the same time to see a grizzled man with a thick white beard and skin like aged leather approaching, his arms held out wide in jubilant greeting.

“Rumford, you old pirate!” Leyla’s voice is warm with affection as she claps the old man on the back heartily. Kai’s large hand grips his arm in greeting, his smile also welcoming.

The older man’s green eyes twinkle like sea glass as he nods towards the docks. “Ship’s lookin’ good, Captain. I heard ‘bout your troubles with the storm but it seems Lady Luck still favors ya.”

Leyla throws the dark waves of her hair over her shoulder as she glances at her ship and then back to Rumford who is now leaning against one of the nearby wooden pillars.

“Ah, but that's less to do with luck and more to do with the skill of my crew.” Her voice swells with pride. Her crew is her family and it's obvious to anyone who speaks to her how fiercely she treasures them.

Rumford scratches at the edges of his worn blue bandana, shrugging one bony shoulder. “Fair enough, lass, fair enough. Lord knows ya got one of the best…” He pauses, eyes bright as he remembers something and he motions for her and Kai to come closer. “I do have a bit of interestin’ news for ya both.”

Kai can never resist gossip and immediately moves a step closer. Leyla, a bit more skeptical, crosses her arms slowly and grins.

“Go on then, old timer.”

Rumford clears his throat. “The storm wasn’t the only thing makin’ waves around here." He lowers his voice conspiratorially. "The Red Queen herself was around these parts not several days ago.”

Leyla’s dark brows rise. “You don’t say.”

He nods sagely. “Aye. Ya see, a slave ship carryin’ cargo from the Peridot Islands was sunk not that far from here. One lone crew member survived and he was scared shitless. Claimed the ship moved silent as a ghost and the attack was so brutal it was over in a matter of seconds. All the captives disappeared. No other crew members survived.” Rumford’s voice is a loud, stage whisper. “Folks say that ship and her Captain are cursed but I say, they’re doin’ the angels work, takin’ out scum like that.” He punctuates his words by spitting on the dock.

He rambles on for a few more minutes before excusing himself with a hiccup and a wave. Leyla watches him amble back towards the ramshackle wooden buildings that make up the portside town.

“I told you one had gotten away.” Her voice is low as she watches Rumford’s frame grow smaller with distance.

Kai crosses his burly arms. “It was dark. He wouldn’t have seen much. Besides.” He turns, mouth tilting in a grin. “That’s what we wear the fancy red scarves for.”

She snorts, biting back a laugh. Kai hated the red silk scarves they all wore on the bottom halves of their faces when they were on The Crimson Scorn. He knew they had to protect their identities. Some of the ships they had taken down belonged to powerful people, black market merchants or corrupt government officials who would love to find the Red Queen and her crew and send them to a watery grave.

“We should be hearing from Morganite in a few days then.” The small country of Morganite was where they had sent those they freed. A contact was waiting for them there and would help relocate all those who had originally been heading for the torment of slavery.

Kai nods. “I’ll let you know the minute I do.” A seagull cuts a dark figure across the clear sky, its loud call directing their attention towards a ship in the distance, heading towards the port. Even from far away, every part of it screams wealth, from its many billowing white sails to the rich color of its wood.

Leyla squints and then shakes her head. Her disdain for the fancy ship radiates off her like heat waves and Kai laughs, patting his captain on the shoulder.

“C’mon. There’s a pint in The Loaded Cannon with your name on it.”

She watches the gaudy merchant ship for another moment, something uneasy fluttering in the pit of her stomach. A feeling that she can’t quite pinpoint. Like that ship is a harbinger of some kind. But of what....she doesn't know.

“Captain?” Kai is looking down at her with concern in his hazel eyes.

Leyla clears her throat, turning on the heel of her black boot.

“Let’s go. We got some celebrating to do.”

The Loaded Cannon isn’t much, but it has warm food, strong ale and good service which is more than one can say for many seaside taverns. As the sun sinks, painting the sky in dramatic pink and orange, Captain Leyla Quinn is squinting, one blue eye focused with blazing intensity on the crude chalk outline of a person against the far wall of the tavern. Those who are seated nearby or leaning against tables watch, slanted forward in anticipation but not daring to make a sound.

Right……there……

The small dagger leaves her hand, flying with a precision that belies the amount of drink she has consumed already. It strikes the wall right where the painted man’s heart would be with a loud thunk. The grizzled seafarers cheer, sloshing their ale as they raise their mugs in a toast. Leyla whoops with joy, throwing her arm up in celebration before reaching for her own tankard and taking a long, deep pull.

“And that’s how you do it, folks!” Her eyes shine as she sets down her mug, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and laughing at a joke one of the craggy patrons makes about never messing with Captain Quinn.

“You’re good."

A voice cuts through the crowd and she turns, her radiant exuberance slowly shifting from smile to frown as a stranger approaches. In the hush that falls over the tavern, she can hear the sound of his ornate clothing jangling before he even steps into the hazy orange light of the overhead lantern.

Even in the dim room his blue eyes gleam like molten sapphire.

“But I’m better.”

Heat swarms inside her veins, an immediate buzzing that has her straightening her shoulders, lifting her chin as he comes fully into view. He is staggeringly handsome with pale hair the color of moonlight and a face made to be sculpted in marble. His body is long and lean, lines that beg the eye to follow them. His lips are quirked in a smile painted in equal shades arrogance and confidence. A smile that has her suck in a breath and there it sticks, right in her chest, as she finds herself locked into that brilliant gaze.

She could drown in all that blue, sink into it like a wrecked ship into the hungry ocean, all without putting up a fight.

Attraction has unexpectedly roared like a beast unearthed, sinking its claws into her heart and stomach, driving heat across her skin.

But she is also very aware of her surroundings, of the many gazes jumping with bright interest between her and this tall stranger with golden jewelry that drinks in the ochre light.

Fighting the shocking tidal wave of sudden desire he has unleashed, she slips into a pose of casual interest, her head tilted as she regards him, hoping in the back of her mind that she has managed to look mildly intrigued.

“Aren’t we sure of ourselves,” she says loudly, lifting her mug of ale and taking a sip, grateful for the cool rush of liquid. Her eyes never leave the stranger and he seems amused, head cocked to one side, waiting to see what she’ll do.

She sets down her tankard, turning to face him fully. “You have a very loud bark, sea dog. And it’s my experience that dogs that yap the loudest are the least dangerous.”

A collective chuckle rolls through the patrons as they continue watching the exchange. It gives Leyla a boost of confidence as she winks at the sailor seated just to her right, a gesture of comradery and conspiracy.

The stranger grins slowly, placing a hand on his hip.

“Brave enough to make a bet of it, lady?”

Leyla scoffs. “I don’t make bets with strangers.”

He takes a step closer, looking at her as if she is the only person in the whole tavern.

“We ain't strangers. We’ve been talkin’ for at least a minute.”

“You can take him!”, one of the men calls from the back and the patrons all nod, yelling their support, some banging their mugs on the scarred wooden tables.

Leyla glances around, bolstered by the sight of so many supportive grins, then turns back to the pale-haired man. Alright then. This may be a way to temper some of the heat tornadoing through her. Focus that energy on competition.

“What’s your bet?”

He reaches up, rubbing his chin as if in thought. She can’t help but notice his hands. What a paradox they seem to be. He has the calloused palms of a sailor but with long, elegant fingers bedecked in a variety of expensive rings.

“One throw. Whoever gets closest to the center of the heart, wins. When I win….” There’s a pause as he allows himself the liberty of drinking in the sight of her, from her knee-high black boots to the ends of her wavy ebon hair. “.....you kiss me.”

The patrons in the tavern roar, some with protective annoyance, others with astounded delight. There are an equal number of “Now wait a minutes” mixed in with “He’s got guts, I tell ya.”

That tornado she was hoping to temper rips through her at the thought.

Goddamn it.

Leyla holds up her hand to quiet the room, ignoring the wild hammering of her heart and keeping her breathing as even as possible. However confident this man is, she knows her own skill with a dagger.

“And when I win….” She pauses, imitating the way he looked at her a moment before, then smiles slowly. “I get that fancy sword of yours.”

His hand automatically comes up the sword at his hip, to touch the beautiful gold hilt inlaid with elegant azure gemstones. She’s struck a nerve, picking something that obviously holds value to him. Their gazes meet and lock, like the antlers of stags locked in combat.

“It’s a bet.” His voice is light, easygoing but she notices the way his hand is still possessively wrapped around the hilt of his sword. “Ladies first.”

She reaches down, slipping her fingers into the inside of her boot and removes the dagger she has carried with her ever since her first journey across the sea. She has wielded it a thousand times, knows its heft, its dynamics, its length. She could throw it with her eyes bound and it would hit its mark.

The patrons hold their breath. Never has she experienced the tavern as quiet as it is now. She turns, facing the chalky outline of the man on the wooden wall.

The only sign of nervousness is the slight press of her lips, the thin line they form as she breathes in deeply.

Once.

Twice.

And then she throws. The dagger sails from her hand as sure and steady an arrow from Diana’s bow where it lands with a satisfying thunk right where the man’s heart would be. The tavern erupts into cheers and she feels a wave of pure relief wash over her as she steps aside, unable to keep from grinning.

There’s no way–

He moves with the litheness of a predator, elegance and unbelievable speed blending together in the extension of his arm as his jeweled dagger flies towards the outline. There is another thunk, followed by the hollow thud of Leyla’s dagger as it is dislodged from the wall and falls in a dramatic swoon to the dusty floorboards. In its place, the silver and sapphire dagger gleams victorious.

The tavern erupts again, this time louder than before. It sounds like one loud roar as patrons jump up, some cheering, some in shock, some even clapping this stranger in his elegant clothing on the shoulder.

Well, fuck.

He passes her, going to retrieve the daggers and she’s hit with the smell of sea salt and something else, something tangy and expensive. Her heart thunders in her chest as the crowd around her calls out teasing words and praise for them both.

The stranger flashes her a smile, all white teeth and triumph, as he holds out her dagger to her, hilt first.

“Told ya,” he says in a low, infuriatingly attractive whisper.

She takes the dagger from him with a loud exhale. She can’t help but notice the eager look on many of the patron’s faces. After all, she did agree to kiss him if she lost….

“Not here,” she snaps, turning on her boot heel and marching straight out of the tavern and into the cool night air. Losing has temporarily doused some of the heat his presence had ignited in her.

Maybe he won’t follow her.

He follows her.

And she has to admit to herself….she’s not sorry.

When she reaches her destination, he barks out a laugh. She’s literally marched across the street, stopping on the wooden portico of the boarding house directly across from the tavern. The raucous sounds of the patrons within The Loaded Cannon are still audible as they float along on the cool sea breeze.

“Too good for a room in the tavern?”

Now they are ostensibly alone, standing in the dim light of the single lantern hanging next to the wooden sign of the boarding house. She thought he was handsome before but now, up close and away from other people, his presence swallows everything else around her, as strong as the unyielding pull of the bright moon on the tide. Has she ever, ever been so immediately drawn to a person like this?

“I like my privacy.” The word hangs in the air between them, sparkling like a gemstone, smooth as silk.

He takes a step towards her and for the first time, she can see the effect she is having on him. His eyes are dark as the sea at midnight, his body radiating an electric tension as he draws closer to her.

So it's not just her. He feels it too.

“Ya lost, sea witch. Time to pay up.”

Something inside Leyla bursts.

Like a sea anemone opening its explosively bright body to the current.

Like cannon fire.

Like lust.

She reaches out, grabbing him by the wrist, feeling the softness of his white silk tunic under her palm and pulls him to her, stretching up to press her mouth to his.

Oh……

……..oh…….

………………fuck.

He tastes sweet as rose liquor and twice as potent. She wraps her arms around him, immediately wanting to get closer, drinking him in like he might disappear at any second as something ferocious is let loose. Something wild that winds itself around them. Something blistering. Something that feels like vague danger and crystal-clear want. Those long fingers are curling themselves into her black hair, wearing it like his golden rings. He pulls slightly to shift her head, giving him a better position to plunder the heat of her mouth, to swallow every gasp she makes. And when she groans, he yanks her even closer, like he can’t take it, and she swears she can feel his heart banging like drumfire in his chest.

A loud whistling breaks through the feverish haze and she sees several sailors grinning as they exit the tavern, having spotted them wrapped in each other’s arms.

“Fuck,” she murmurs as the rowdy, ale-drunk group continues with playful catcalls and whistles. Drawing a deep breath, she tilts her head to meet his gaze straight on. “Let’s go to my room.” She starts to reach for his hand but then stops. “I mean….if you want to.” Maybe he doesn’t want to go any further. She shouldn’t assume–

He grins and the sight of it has her heart resume beating at breakneck speed.

“If ya think my answer is gonna be anything except ‘yes, immediately’--” He’s cut off by her yanking him through the doors of the boarding house, hand now held confidently and very firmly in hers.

She kisses not with lips and tongue, but with fire.

Silvio didn’t see her when he walked into The Loaded Cannon. He heard her. A laugh that broke through the smoky din like a burst of sunlight through faded gray clouds. It immediately turned his head, diverting him from his mission to see what he could find out about the captain he would be meeting with tomorrow concerning his trip to Pyrite.

That laughter wound its way through the air, danced over the rumble of low voices, the drunken cheers, the mumbles until he found its source. She was standing, shoulders back, stance wide, wavy hair the color of a moonless midnight sky falling in waves past her shoulders, and a grin so cocky he felt his own lips curving upwards in response. She was jerking her thumb towards the wall where a dagger was embedded within the outline of a person, defying anyone to deny what skill a throw like that would take.

She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. There wasn’t any physical feature that stood out as extraordinary. And yet here he was, unable to tear his gaze away from her. He watched as she lifted her tankard, turning in a way that he got a good look at the pale blue of her eyes, the cloudless sky at midday, and he noticed the small black beauty mark at the corner of her left eye. His fingers curled with the sudden, inexplicable urge to touch it.

“And that’s how you do it, folks!” Her voice surprised him. Deeper than he expected, huskier than he would have imagined. He wanted to hear more.

And then he was on his feet, walking towards her.

“You’re good……but I’m better.”

And those five words lead him to this moment, right now. To this woman who has invaded every one of his senses with lightning speed, her fingers brazenly roaming through his hair as she leaves a trail of kisses across his bare shoulder like droplets of lava. A tornado of hunger tears its way through his body, tangling his veins and burning up any thoughts other than how much he wants her, this blue-eyed siren who smells like orange blossoms and feels like heaven under his palms.

Her name…..it doesn’t matter. Who needs something so unimportant? His mouth has other things to do. Like an unspoken agreement, neither one of them has said a word since stumbling into her room. The seconds are for tasting as much of the other as they can, as quickly as they can. They fall in tandem onto the bed, never letting go. Two people drowning and grasping each other as they sink down into the storm of need.

Has he ever been so lost, so completely immersed in another person like this? Has he ever felt so frantic from just a touch, a sigh?

And then she wraps her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist and there is room for nothing else in his mind. Just her. And he plans to enjoy every second he has, swimming in this tempestuous sea of lust and longing, until the dawn kisses the night and the sky turns pale with morning’s glow.

Leyla’s eyes open just as the last blush of peach is fading from the clouds and the sun continues its climb through the morning sky. Her body feels languid with the memory of the night, heavy with satisfaction. She stretches with a slow yawn, running a hand over the side of her neck and down the tender slope to her shoulder, an expanse of skin peppered with the rosy echoes of a stranger's passionate kisses. Her hips are marked by the strong grip of his nimble fingers. Ah, but it can't be just her. Oh, no. His body must carry the same evidence of their night together. She remembers well the feel of his muscular back under her fingernails, the softness of his earlobe between her teeth.

A shiver runs through her at the thought. One of the most memorable nights of her life and she doesn’t even know his name.

She turns towards the nightstand with the intention of checking the time on her pocket watch and freezes.

There, leaning against the wooden night table, is his sword. A parting gift. A thank you.

Her grin rivals the brightening sky.

“Had a good night, did you?” Kai glances at his captain as they head down the street towards the Merchant’s Guild, one of the better constructed and larger buildings in the entire town.

Leyla adjusts her fitted long coat. It is a deep royal blue and decorated with gold filigree, the one she always wears when she needs to make a strong impression. Her blouse is white and crisp and a black leather sword baldric is strapped across her body. And hanging at her side is the sword, its golden handle and sapphire stones winking cheerily in the sunlight.

“That is for me to know. And you to never ask about again.” But she knows he can read her like a seafarer can the stars. He notices the extra bounce in her step, the white silk scarf tied strategically around her neck, the small, secretive smile that hasn’t left her lips since he picked her up.

He laughs as they approach the building, the sound buoyant and warm.

“Alright, alright. Let’s focus on the task at hand then. Remind me who exactly set up this meeting?”

She pauses at the foot of the stairs that lead up to the wide, ornately carved double doors.

“An emissary from Benitoite has been sniffing around different port towns. Some prince is looking for a crew who knows these waters. Apparently he’s been searching for a captain willing to take him through Blackwater Strait. He’s got cargo that needs to be delivered to Pyrite.”

Kai nods in recollection, now remembering the first time she told him this story. “I only know one captain who is crazy enough to do that.”

They share a grin and Leyla adjusts the blue velvet tricorn hat on her head, fingers brushing against the elegant white feather it boasts. “Should be easy money.”

They walk in step with each other through the heavy double doors and are immediately met by a slender man with dark curls and glasses. He's dressed in the elegant clothing of a royal adjutant.

“Ahh Captain Quinn, right this way.” He glances at her and then up up up at Kai nervously before leading them down the hallway and through another set of doors that open into a large, airy meeting room.

Kai steps in confidently but for the second time that morning, Leyla freezes.

The man waiting by the window, the one dressed in ornate finery, absurdly trimmed with white and black fur. The one whose golden jewelry jangles as he turns to face them. The one with pale hair the color of moonlight and a face made to be sculpted in marble.

“Prince Silvio of Benitoite,” the aide says formally.

It can’t be……

He’s the prince?

“Captain Leyla Quinn, of the Siren’s Call.”

Silvio’s shocked expression is a mirror of her own.

She’s the captain?

The same word leaves both their lips, at the same time.

“Fuck.”

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#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #silvio ricci #ikepri silvio #ikemen silvio #ikepri oc #ikemen oc #leyla quinn #leyla x silvio #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfiction #violettwrites

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somanyratsinthewalls · 8 months

Text

Burning Hearts Part 7

Pairing: Law x Straw Hat Zoan Type (named) OC

Summary: You were teleported across the globe in an instant, away from your crew. Your body was badly broken and beaten, thrust into the harsh landscape of a Northern island. You are discovered by the Heart Pirates and brought back to health. Startled upon waking up in a foreign place with an unfamiliar crew, you are shocked with the news that you’ll be spending two years there. Trafalgar Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates has made a promise to train you, but will it become something more than a mentor relationship?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

**MINORS DNI, SMALL SCENE OF ADULT CONTENT**

Burning Hearts Chapter 7: Repressing (some) Urges

— —

“You aren’t focusing your energy.”

“I can focus enough to kick your ass!”

Daisy chirps back and forth with Law as they sparred across the clearing in the woods.

“You either harness Haki or awaken your Devil Fruit. Without that, you’ll get hosed in the New World, regardless of how much stronger the rest of your crew gets.” Law barks at her.

There was a sharp sound of swords meeting.

“I thought people were born with Haki, I can’t just get it.” Daisy pushes Law back, finally strong enough to defend herself from his blows.

“How are you going to know that you don’t have it if you don’t even try?” Law disappears and she searches the clearing for a flash of blue to signify his reappearance. Daisy spins around and raises her blades in defense.

*CLANG*

“You think I’m not trying? Sorry I’m not a bright little gifted kid like you were- AH!” Law pushes Daisy across the clearing and her back hits hard against a tree.

“A gifted kid? That’s what you think I was?” Law comes at her with renewed force. He uses his power to throw Daisy’s body into the air and back down again. “You think you’re the only one who experienced horrors beyond comprehension?! You don’t know anything about me or my past.”

Daisy struggles, but she rises to her feet. She spits on the ground.

“You’re right. I don’t know a god damn thing about you.” Daisy breaths heavily. “It’s like it would kill you to open up to someone. Be a human.” She approaches Law slowly, like a wounded lion still set on taking down a wildebeest, a small trickle of blood coming from the crown of her head and turning that grey streak red at the base.

Without warning, Daisy launches herself into the air and lunges into Law. They lock in a sparring match that went on for ages before Law finally pinned her to the ground.

Daisy was bested again. She stared up at the man above her with wild eyes. Law looked down and met her gaze, hands on either side of her face… but shortly after looking in her eyes, Law’s own eyes wandered to the rest of her form. Chest heaving violently and droplets of sweat littering her cleavage and sternum, hair splayed out messily against the dirt floor of the clearing…

It reminded him of his dreams…

Daisy was underneath him, laying there at his mercy…

Law’s eyes glazed over…

*THWACK*

Law was broken out of his daze by being catapulted across the clearing and onto a ragged tree stump.

“Fuck…” Law had let his guard down and he left himself open for assault. “What the hell was that…” He picks himself up and sees Daisy standing across the clearing, wings spread. Law spies something else…

Was that a tail?

A long, black, scaled and spiked tail protruded from her backside and slowly flicked back and forth.

“What? Haki, Devil Fruit? Who said I can’t do both?” Daisy chides with a smirk.

Law coughs, still struggling for breath after having the wind knocked out of him. There was a silence as he walks towards her.

“What changed your mind?” Law asks with a raised eyebrow. “And when the hell did you figure that out?” Law gestures at the new appendage.

“You were being a dickhead. I wanted to beat the shit out of you faster, so I did some training. Turns out, it worked! You just got fucking rocked!” Daisy laughs hard and holds her stomach.

Law saw her brilliant smile and couldn’t help but smirk a bit at her new found confidence.

*bdd bdd bdd bdd*

The transponder snail that Law carried in his jacket began to ring. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the snail and answers it.

“Yeah?” He speaks into the snail.

“Hey Captain… it’s Bepo… can you come back to the base? Something came up and we need to talk to you…”

“Is this an emergency, Bepo? You know this training is important.” Law grips the snail tighter in his fist.

“I-I think so, C-Captain…” Bepo sounded concerned.

“Fine.” Law hangs up the snail and puts it back in his pocket.

“Everything okay?” Daisy sheathes her blades.

“We need to head back.”

— —

You and Law enter the base to find it oddly quiet. Usually the compound was buzzing with chatter and the comings and goings of the rowdy Heart Pirates… but now it was eerily silent. Law leads you to the galley and pushes the doors open. He found every single member of his crew packed into the kitchen around the dining table. Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi were seated at the table while the rest of the crew stood around them.

Every single pair of eyes shot up at the two of you when you entered the room. No words were said. The air was thick with tension.

You were confused. What had happened in your absence? You then spy a News Coo spread out on the dining table. You read the headline from the doorway. Trafalgar Law Named Newest Warlord of the Sea.

Your eyes bug open wide. You rush towards the table and scoop up the paper. You begin reading.

“With the gift of 100 pirate hearts, Surgeon of Death, former member of the Worst Generation, Trafalgar Law joins the ranks of the Seven Warlords…” You read quietly out loud.

You turn to Law. He stares at you, expressionless. You look back at the crew. The same response.

“Well, it’s obviously a mistake. We just write the paper and say there’s been a misconception and it’s not true, right? It’s fine, right? Law?” You question him as you put the paper back on the table.

The silence continues. You demand an answer.

“Law? This obviously isn’t true, right?” You step towards him.

“It is true.” Law finally responds.

The silence becomes even heavier.

“Captain… r-respectfully… w-what the hell is going on?” Penguin speaks up with a shaky voice.

“You hate the government, Captain… now you work for them-?” Ikkaku chimes in.

“We work for them.” Law butts in.

The room is quiet again.

“I have been appointed one of the Seven Warlords. My bounty has been cancelled along with the rest of the crew.” Law turns from his crew to face you this time. “Everyone’s but Daisy’s, that is.”

“What!?” You reply in shock horror.

“After the incident at Marine Ford, the World Government is out for blood with any of the Straw Hat Pirates. Telling the Marines that I was harboring you would only complicate matters. You’ll stay here and you’ll stay hidden. Now that I’ve allied with them, it’s assured that they’ll leave us be.”

“But Captain-“ Bepo starts.

“I have 60 million berries on my fucking head and you work for the government now?!” You raise your voice. “You bailed out your crew and now I’m stuck here like a stowaway again?!”

“There’s a reason for all of this.” Law responds.

“A reason?! PLEASE kindly explain it to us, then!” You shout.

“Yeah, Captain, we deserve an answer. Why did you hide this from us?” Bepo asks.

“I hid it to protect you all. You are my crew and I care about you. You all know that is something I don’t say often, but I mean it. I can’t explain it now, but I promise it will all make sense later. You need to trust me. This is temporary.” Law snatches the News Coo from the table. “You need to trust me, it’s all part of a larger plan. If you don’t trust me, you may leave, I understand… but if you wish to stay, your loyalty will be rewarded.”

Law looks around at his crew once more before retreating down the hall to his office.

“Fucking bullshit…” You storm down the hall and into your room. You slam the door behind you and begin cleaning your room to keep your mind off the current situation.

— —

Law sits at his desk, again pouring over the text about ancient Zoan Devil Fruits, chin resting in his fist. Law was trying to distract himself from the guilt that thrummed in his chest that appeared from keeping such a huge secret from his crew.

He wished he could tell them… His crew he loved and cared so deeply for… and Daisy, who was upset with him once again…

They knew nothing of his plan to murder Doflamingo… and they probably never would until after the plan succeeded or failed… He would die trying to complete his mission or come back to his crew successful and have to pick up the pieces of their shattered trust…

Either way, he had months to plan and build the rapport back up. He was in no shape to take on Doflamingo now, he had much to prepare. Trillions of thoughts whirled around in Law’s head as he mulled over the text at his desk… he couldn’t focus on the words anymore so he resigned and left his office for the showers.

In his sour mood, Law skulks towards the bathroom quickly, not paying attention to where he was going.

*OOF*

“Hey, watch it.” Daisy remarks with the laundry basket that was now half full under her arm, the rest of the contents spilled all over the floor after the collision.

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking-“ Law bends over to help Daisy pick up her clothing that had fallen to the ground and put them back into her bin.

“Uh, thanks.” Daisy awkwardly hikes the laundry bin over her hip again and passes him to head towards the laundry room in the center of the base. Daisy rounds the corner and Law lets go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

Law looks down at the floor and sees a black, amorphous blob on the ground in front of him. He picks it up. It was a pair of lace panties.

Law gasps, but doesn’t drop them right away, fascinated by how soft they feel between his tattooed fingers.

D, E, A, T, H.

“Hey, Cap?” Ikkaku’s voice comes from the opposite end of the hallway.

In a panic, Law shoves Daisy’s panties into his hoodie pocket.

“Yes?” Law answers, almost too quickly.

“You know we’re not mad at you, right? We just wish you would have told us. We would support you always, I wish you’d have more faith in us is all.” Ikkaku smiled softly.

“I know. It was…” Law sighs. “A selfish decision. I hope you all can understand.”

“We do. I think you should talk to Bepo, though. He seems pretty beat up.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to him.”

Law pushes open the door to the bathroom and starts the shower.

— —

Law returns to his office after his shower and looks at the clock.

1:48 AM

“When the hell did it get that late?” Law asks himself.

Law grabs the text from his desk and brings it with him through the archway of the adjoining room to his bed. He throws the textbook onto his bed and strips himself of his jeans before he climbs in after it.

After flipping through some more pages, he instinctively reaches into his pocket to warm his free hand while reading.

The panties.

He still had Daisy’s worn panties in his hoodie pocket.

Law gingerly pulls them out and unfolds them. He feels his cock twitch at the sight of the skimpy black lace. He knew it was wrong to be aroused but he couldn’t help it…

Law stares at the panties in his hands. Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to not listen to his intrusive thoughts but he simply can’t resist anymore, the animalistic urge in him taking over… he pulls the panties to his face and takes a deep inhale.

His eyes roll back in his head. The heady, musky scent of Daisy’s panties fill his senses.

“Fuck…”

Law couldn’t help but imagine the sweet, slightly sour , sweaty taste of her cunt after a hard sparring session in the clearing with him… how she might react if he dipped his tongue in between her sensitive lower lips… would she moan? Would she whimper? Would he know what to do? Would she even like it? He knows what she’s been through, he shouldn’t be thinking of her like this…

“Shit…” Law gasps and unbuckles his belt. He unzips his jeans and frees his suddenly aching cock.

“Room.” Law creates a room around his office and uses it to lock the deadbolt on the door.

With a bit of guilt, Law begins to stroke his cock with the hand the panties were currently being held in. It was so wildly wrong, but he couldn’t help it. He had thought of Daisy writhing on his member so many times that this felt almost natural.

The lacy fabric caused Law to hiss out at the foreign sensation, only having ever felt his hand down there in moments of desperation like this one. Law begin stroking himself slowly with the panties and threw his head back in pleasure. He closed his eyes and thought of her…

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this… but it felt too good to stop…

“Fuck, Daisy…”

He had finally said it out loud. It felt so sinful, slipping off his tongue in a moment of lust, but it also felt so incredibly right. Her name felt so comforting and safe falling from his lips, Law didn’t even notice how close he was coming to his own finale.

“Shit!” Law chokes out as he reaches his climax, ropes of thick cum spurting out all over the filched pair of panties.

As the remnants of his orgasm subside, Law realizes the filth of his actions. He pulls up his underwear and shoves the soiled panties deep inside his laundry basket, thoroughly hoping they will never be discovered in their current state.

Law tosses the book off his bed and climbs into the covers. With a huge sigh, he tries his best to fall asleep.

— —

You smile widely as you pull a fresh apple pie out of the oven, inhaling it’s intoxicating scent as you place it on the counter.

Suddenly, as if by magic, Shachi and Penguin appear in the galley.

“Cake?”

“Pie?”

“For us?” They say in unison.

You laugh.

“Yes, you vultures. Let me cut a slice for your buzzkill captain and then you can have at it. Make sure Clione gets a slice. You know it’s his favorite, okay?” You say as you carve a piece and put it on a plate to bring to the Captain of the Heart Pirates. You grab a fork and bring the plate down the hall to Law’s office.

You knock.

“Yes?”

You enter.

“Hey… brought you some pie.” You smile and walk towards Law’s desk to set down the plate.

“Hmm.. Smells good. Sit. Want to show you something.” Law dismisses your dessert and gestures for you to take a seat in the chair across from him again.

You sigh.

“Law if this is about my Devil Fruit-“

“I found it.” Law interjects.

There was a heavy silence.

“You… what?” You ask

“Come, look at this drawing…” Law stands up from his chair and beckons you to come around and look at the book on his desk.

You roll you eyes and get up to look at the dusty tome. You look down and your stomach drops straight through to the floor.

“That’s… that’s it…” You cover your mouth with one hand. “That’s exactly what it looked like… I remember it…” Your eyes gloss over, being involuntarily brought back to the day you were forced to ingest that Devil Fruit.

“A wyvern.” Law speaks monotonously, as if he were prescribing you an antacids.

“A what?” You whisper, unable to speak louder than that.

“A medieval type dragon. Claws, wings, fire breath, tail… it all makes sense…” Law runs his smooth fingers over the page.

“This is you, Daisy. You have this power.” He turns his head to look at you in the eye.

You stumble backwards and fall on the floor.

“No, I…. I’m not like that.. It’s something else..” You mumble mostly to yourself. “I’m a weird bat or something…”

“Do bats have tails, Daisy?” Law cocks his head and looks at you, sitting on his office floor.

You begin to retort, but Law stops you.

“Do lizards have wings?” You hold eye contact with the doctor.

“I…”

“You showed me that this is the fruit you ate. You can’t argue with this anymore. We will proceed with training using this information. Get some rest. We continue tomorrow.”

You nod and leave Law’s office.

#one piece #one piece anime #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #law x reader #trafalgar op #trafalgar d law #traffy #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law #trafalfar #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #law one piece #trafalgar d water law #op memes

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333creolelady · 8 months

Text

Lady Of The Blue Bakunawa Ch. 5

Black Afab! OC x Roman Reigns (Pirate Au)

Warnings: Moody Roman, Feisty Jane, Arguing , Cursing, cunnilingus, overstimulation.

Songs this chapter: Young love, Yumeji’s theme, Your hands are cold

Alternative playlist songs: Polly, Green eyes, Lights on.

Story cover by @joannasteez

Spotify playlist link here <-

Alternative playlist link <-

Next -> chapter 6

<- Back to Masterlist

All reblogs will recieve a snippet of next weeks chapter.

3 weeks later….

Jane

“ Never take your eye off your opponent”, Adhar warns.

“ Okay”, said Jane as she steadied herself.

“ Just a moment of unfocus and you could end up with a sword sheathed in your gut. It’s how Roman was able to take out Captain Night’s eye”, says Adhar.

“ Ugh don’t remind me”, Jane shivers.

“ Also, don’t pick up a sword unless you're willing to do the unthinkable. If someone is coming at you with a weapon they’ve usually weighed the consequences of killing you. It’s up to you to defend yourself. Night and Roman’s battle was ongoing for almost fifteen years. I don’t think they truly wanted to kill each other until you were involved”, Adhar takes her sword ending the lesson for the day.

Jane appeared puzzled. “Why didn’t they kill each other before?”

“ I’m not sure. To be honest I think it was a game to the both of them. Roman kept him alive out of spite and so did Night. But then you came and…well.”

Jane remained in deep thought. It had been a few weeks since their kiss and the tension had grown between the two of them. Roman hadn’t made any advancements onto her again and she didn’t know how to ask. The hand holding in private still happened but something had fizzled out. She suspected it was because Roman had seen her interactions with Adhar.

Everytime she brought up Adhar he’d grow short and flat. Adhar wasn’t really a flirt, just really cheeky. However, she was sure that Adhar was just a friend. His cheekiness was often misconstrued for flirting and since she was a woman it was assumed that he was attracted to her. In the past weeks of their training she’d come to realize that Adhar was already missing a love. A girl named Kita from back home. The two of them had gotten to know each other better and he’d spoken briefly on his life before piracy. He had a lover and he was exiled from his community. He never got to see Kita again. Adhar’s demeanor was an attempt to chase away his sadness. Ever since then, Jane understood him better.

So when Adhar stood behind her to adjust her grip on the handle of her sword she didn’t panic. Roman caught the two of them a few times during their sessions. This time was no different as he strolled past them on the wind deck heading for his quarters.

Adhar grabs the sword from Jane,“ Why don’t we stop for the day? I’m sure Caden needs your help by now and Roman is shooting me daggers”, Adhar chuckled.

“ Yes, I’m on for lunch preparation. I’ll see you later. Thanks for the lesson”, Jane straightened her apron and headed down to the kitchen.

Caden, John and Allen all worked tirelessly prepping lunch. Lunch was usually left overs from the night's previous dinner. Although no serious cooking was involved, food had to be reheated and distributed to many men. She put on her chef's hat and scrubbed her hands before firing up the stove. Root stew from last night needed boiling and it was now a gelatinous mess waiting to liquify.

“ We don’t have enough for everybody. Caden, can you go in the pantry and pull out the bread for the sandwiches. It’ll have to be half and half to last them until dinner.”

“ Didn’t you hear Jane—-there’s a celebration tonight. There is no dinner except for what we find inland”, said Caden. He makes quick work of laying pieces of bread out to be buttered.

Jane

“ A celebration ?”

“ Ay’, it’s celebration for the ship. Cap’n gained something better when we got the Night star. We still have to dock for some repairs. It’ll only be for the night then back at it in the morning. Not only that but it’s the March solstice. It’s the start of the new season where night is no more. To not celebrate would be bad luck for the land and sea”, Says Caden.

“ I’m not much of a party person”, Jane shrugged.

“ I figured as much. I’ll bring you back something nice. Don’t tell anyone but Roman gave me these”, Caden held his pocket out to reveal 20 gold shillings.

“ Woah…. rich man. Remember me when you buy your big house”, Jane joked.

“ Never M’lady”, Caden smiled as he assembled the sandwiches.

“ Caden where are your parents ?”, Jane asked curiously.

“ Wow nice pivot Jane”, Caden snorted.

Jane winced. “ Oh sorry. I didn’t mean to be pushy. It’s just…you’re a young boy. It breaks my heart to see you do so much on your own. It’s why I asked Roman to let me help out.”

“ Well my mom died from the blue death when I was about 12. My father passed away from smallpox a few months later. Funnily enough they created a vaccine a year after he passed. What luck”, Caden shrugged.

“ I’m sorry”, Jane frowned.

“ S’alright. It’s life. I didn’t suffer for long. Things got better for me.”

“ How did you meet Roman ?”

“ Well when I lost my parents I became an orphan so I was sent away to nuns. I kept getting into trouble and running away. The nuns were harsh….they believed in rough punishments. It was hard for me to get used to it. My dad was a gentle and kind man. My mother was patient. I’d never been spanked by an adult before let alone slapped. It didn’t just stop there though. It got worse. I just wanted to work and be an adult. Looking back I realize that was a bit foolish but.. I met Roman hiding in a port. He gave me coins and bought me food. He kept asking me questions but I wouldn’t budge. He was visiting town for a few days and every night I would be in the same hiding spot. I guess he figured that If someone cared they would have found me by then. Anyhow, he took me in and I thought he was gonna teach me how to be a pirate. That I would learn the sword —get big muscles and be scary like him. Imagine my surprise after the first 2 days on the ship he places a book in my lap. A stinkin’ book”, Caden scoffs. Jane laughs at that.

“ That sounds like him”, Jane grinned.

“ Oh yeah. He said he wouldn’t teach me how to sword until I finished the book. A dictionary of all things. I couldn’t read very well. He taught me the alphabet again which took about a week. Then I had to learn the sound of the alphabet which took another week. Then we started reading the dictionary and guess how long it took me. Just guess ?” Caden crossed his arms in a challenge.

“ Uh…a week?”, Jane spoke with hopefulness.

“ Three Bloody MONTHS”, Caden flailed his arms.

“ Roman thought you deserved some semblance of an education. That’s a good thing. It’s more than most people get …trust me”, Jane smiled admirably despite wanting to laugh.

“ Yes and it was awful. Eventually I was able to start my position as a cabin boy 6 months after joining the ship. It took time learning how to address Roman.”

“ I’m sure you’re better for it”, said Jane. She was shocked to know the lengths Roman went for Caleb. Someone in his position wouldn’t really care about providing basic needs for a child he didn’t know. It’s not like Caleb was his child… but yet he did.

“ He took me to the doctor. Apparently I had scurvy and was rattleboned. I mean I was every bit of a flea ridden mutt at that point but Roman took care of it all. Then he’d send me to work and I could only refer to him as Captain. I don’t think he likes his affection to be witnessed by other people very much. I know Roman cares about me like family but he’d never say it and he wouldn’t want it to be discussed with others. The funny thing is we all know that Roman is good to the crew and has made accommodations for many of us when asked but we never really say anything about it to each other. It’s just…known ”, Caleb pondered as he added meat to the bread.

“ Roman can be a very sweet and gentleman. I’ve been introduced to that side of him and I’m grateful for it. I’m not sure I like the other side quite yet”, she pondered as she remembered his knife slicing through the skull of his mortal enemy Night.

“ Ay’ but he’s a pirate after all. He can’t be nice all the time otherwise nobody would be scared of him. I mean his name alone is a nightmare to some people. It’s what keeps us safe. Plus other pirates would probably think him a joke for taking in some ol’ kid.”

“ He’s a person. As kind and cruel and ever changing as all of us. No matter how hard his peers try to hide their humanity they are still slaves to their flesh. People are people..the way I see it”, Jane nods.

“ Well when you put it like that I’m glad I got one of the nicer pirates. Not the kind that use their cabin boys as jesters and pets”, Caden frowned.

“ Me too”, Jane shivered thinking about her encounter with Nights crew. She’d thank the stars for running into civilized pirates.

“ Sometimes…it feels like he’s my father and other times he’s my big brother. Other times…he’s an ass.”

“ Haven’t met the ass quite yet”, Jane laughed.

“ And you won’t. That’s reserved for nuisances only. Take 10 minutes. I need to speak with her”, Roman sighed in annoyance startling them both.

Caden rolled his eyes and dropped one of the half made sandwiches back on the counter. John and Allen left, following behind the young boy.

“ Hi”, Jane looked up at his tall frame. He was dressed down today in baggy slacks, socks and a baggy cotton shirt half unbuttoned. His hair was pulled up in a bun that seemed slept in. She noticed his beard looked a bit cleaner. She lifted her hand to feel it and playfully tugged it.

“ Did you cut it ?”

“ Not much. Just a small trim.”

“ I like your beard.”

“ Oh I couldn’t tell by how much you yank it every chance you get”, he said with an slightly annoyed yet humorous tone.

“ Sorry”, she smirked playfully before lowering her hand. Despite his obvious moodiness she could see a ghost of a smile on his delicious lips. She contemplated asking for a kiss.

“ As you know there’s a celebration tonight which means that we probably won’t be able to have dinner together. There’s someone I have to meet who has information about where to find the key to the treasure. There’s an entirely different map for the key. I likely won’t be back until late”, says Roman.

“ Oh…Alright. I guess I’ll just read then.”

“ If you’re still awake past midnight, come to my door. We can have a drink.”

“ You excused everybody out of the room just to tell me that ? I’m disappointed”, she teased.

“ Well there was another thing as well but…”, Roman broke eye contact hinting at a sense of guilt. Jane honed in on it.

“ Spit it out”, she taunted.

“ Why….did you ask adhar to teach you sword?”

“ I’m not sure…I’m very comfortable with adhar. He doesn’t make me anxious.”

“ So I make you anxious?”

“ At times yes. For good reasons..”, she whispered. Romans eyes faltered. He paused.

“ Why?”, said Jane.

“ I don’t think that he should be the one to teach you. In fact…I don’t think that you should be using a sword at all in my humble opinion.”

“ Nice to meet you ass.”

“ Now wait I—- “

“ I have to finish making lunch if you don’t mind”, Jane blurted before Roman could get his words out.

“Jane”, Roman blurted at her back that was now turned to him. She didn’t answer. He puffed out an audible sigh and walked away. Why did he have to piss her off while looking his best?

She wasn’t sure if Roman’s comment came from a manly or jealous place. He allowed Alice a high position on the ship despite her gender, so she surmised he was jealous. Still, there was nothing a man could do or say that surprised her. She’d learnt lessons to last her a lifetime regarding the actions of males. It did however slightly disappoint her. If Roman really watched the interactions between Adhar and herself then he would see just how well they got along. He would see that he makes her laugh and really helps with her comfort around some of the other men. They laughed like siblings and gossiped like sisters. There was not an inkling of true romantic or sexual attraction between the two of them. As she served lunch and cleaned behind herself she got angrier and angrier. Roman had officially disappointed her and being sidetracked by it made her even more upset.

The day rolled on like it always does. She mopped the deck with Caden, finished laundry, cleaned bedding and washed her own clothes. Jane had a peculiar sense of melancholy that lasted until nightfall. Most of the men ended up leaving for the night. With the ship left with only a few stragglers, she had a quiet dinner on the wind deck. Caden and Adhar left together in pursuit to find some expensive fighting gear and she wished them luck.

She noticed Roman had finally stepped out of his cabin to head into the city. He briefly nodded to her in acknowledgment and walked down the ramp leading from the ship to the sand. She didn’t bother returning the gesture; instead she watched his hulking frame disappear into a crowd of drunk and happy people socializing on the shoreline. She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

The urge for a concerningly long bath with fancy oils and soaps came over her. She tried a new scented lotion and attempted a new hairstyle. She picked out a fancy night gown and shaped up her eyebrows with tweezers. Pampering herself was becoming a new routine for her and she drew it out as long as she could. There was something cathartic about it but eventually she found herself bored again. She wished Caden was here to make her laugh. With no other chores to fulfill she headed down to the dimly lit kitchen and cut herself two slices of dried fig cake. She took it to her room with her alongside half a pitcher of lemonade.

She placed a napkin in her lap to catch any crumbs. Just as she was getting ready to dig in with her fork, a knock sounded from her door.

“ One second”, she called out, removing the napkin and resting the fork on the plate.

She scurried to the door and opened it to find Earl, looking his usually scruffy and round self. He held a board in his hand and looked around nervously.

“ M-M’lady…I’m sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you’d like to partake in a game of chess with me? Allen usually plays with me but he’s at the pub”, Earl said in a tingue of a British and German accent. His face reddened when he took in her night gown.

“ Oh …you’re not bothering me at all. It’s just that I don’t really know how to play…”, Jane shrugged.

“ I can teach you. It’s fairly simple. I’ve been playing it for a long time”, Earl pearched up.

“ Okay well why don’t we play in the mess hall. I’ll be down in a moment”, Jane said smiled.

“ Very well”, Earl flashed her a bright smile and waddled down to the third floor. She brought her two slices of cake and lemonade to the table as he set up the chess pieces. The two ate cake as Earl taught her the logistics. She couldn’t think of a better way to end the march solstice.

Roman

Roman treads through the streets of a famous port, boots crackling against loose pebbles and dirt. It was dreary. This had to be his least favorite place to dock because the weather was shit. Port Plado, home of the drunks, fucked weather and scam artists. He made his way into the pub after a five minute walk. Upon entering he was hit with a waft of beer, sex, sweat and smoke. The cheering from the men in the room quieted when he entered. The women however were bold as ever. A woman with thick curly brown hair, pale skin and ruby lips swayed over to him with one breast hanging out from her bustier.

“ Fancy a Frenchy my big pirate?”, purred the harlot taking her hand and rubbing it up and down his arm. Roman turned away gently.

“ I’m spoken for ”, he throws blandly over his shoulder heading for an outdoor leading to a dimly lit hallway. Moans, screams and yelling reverberated off the walls. He finally reached the end of the hallway and opened the door. At the wooden table sat a withered old man with tan skin, white long dreadlocks, milky eyes and a fragile short body. His fingernails were black and he wore gold rings on each finder. A thump of his Tobacco spit hitting the bottom of a can echoed across the empty room.

“ Ah….Roman. Surprised to see you here. And here I thought you were smart enough to heed my warning. Let me guess…you want the map?”, he said.

“ Crane…been awhile”, Roman stalked up to the table with the old man and sat. He removed his hat and poured himself a glass of ale.

“ You’re fuckin’ right it’s been awhile. A decade”, the old man snorted.

He shrugged. “ Give or take”, said Roman.

The old man crossed his arms and leaned back into his wooden chair. “ Well you already know what I’m going to say.”

Roman remained unflinching. “ Name your price”.

“ What you’re doing is foolish boy…”

Roman sighed leaning back in his seat as well. “ Price..”

“ You first.”

“ 10,00 shillings.”

Cranes brow rose in defense. “ I’d imagine that a navigators knowledge is a little bit more valuable than that. Come on.”

Roman could feel irritation running a finger up his spine. He clears his throat and repositions himself in an attempt to shake the annoyance away.

“ After all….without me you can kiss ever finding that treasure goodbye.”

Romans anger peaks. With how shitty the last two weeks had been, he underestimated just how moody he really was. He swiftly pulls out his pocket knife and stabs it between the gap of cranes fingers, lodging the knife into the wooden table. Crane jumps back in shock.

“ If you could go ahead and name your price so I can get off this shit hole of an island I would appreciate it. I’m not in a very good mood”, Roman seethes quietly, briefly pulling his knife back into its sheath.

Crane holds his hands up in surrender, his smirk returning to his face. The pair were never fond of each other. Many pirates had come to know Crane because he was a navigator. Navigators were valuable assets and were often rented for voyages due to their knowledge of the stars. The problem is that none of the men lived to find that key. The navigator's knowledge was photographic and each time he lost a map he could make a new one. Rumor has it, his old crew made an attempt to find the key and he was the only one who survived the trip.

“ 30 thousand shillings”, Crane spat.

Roman furiously dug into his pocket and held up a brown satchel.

“ There is something you’re not telling me. You will not receive this until you give all the additional information about this quest. Something that will actually help us…clues.”

“ It’s a suicide mission anyhow. What would I possibly know? I hold no treasure of my own. What more can I say to help?”

“ Crane…”, Roman warned.

“ The creature that holds this key is as old as time. The place that holds the creature will reveal itself to you but if your heart is not pure you will be destroyed. That means that there is no turning back. You may reach your destination but there is no guarantee that you will have the option to leave. So that should tell you that NO man was deemed worthy enough to claim the key as his.”

“ And you know how ?”

“ Stories of course…the same stories that made you believe that you could find that treasure.”

“ Creature…elaborate.”

“ There is not much that I know. All I know is that there will be a test. You may have a better chance at receiving the key with the likes of a woman or a child.”

“ Because ?”

“ It has a fascination for them or so I hear. Now give me the bloody money”, crane sighed. Roman dropped the bag on the table and flicked it over to crane. The old man eagerly opened it up and counted the coins. It was all there. Crane grabbed an old folded up piece of paper from his pocket and slid it to Roman the same way he slid the satchel. Roman opened it to reveal 10 corddinates.

“ Pleasure doing business with ya’”, Crane tipped his hat and went back to chewing his Tobacco.. Roman stood up and placed his hat back on before making his way to the ship.

Jane

Adhar and Caden had returned happier than ever. Caden bought himself a new coat made from the finest materials, alongside a necklace with a heart shaped silver locket. She gushed about it and thanked him profusely. Adhar had bought himself a new sword and it was absolutely magnificent. She held the sword and watched its shine bounce off the moonlight.

“ It’s so light to be so big ?”, Jane gasped.

“ Means it’s well made”, said Adhar.

More of Roman’s crew came singing on the ship, clearly drunk. They brought a group of musicians on the ship and started dancing with some of the woman they’d surely spend the night with. Adhar grabbed the hand of a brunette girl and danced with her like the dozens of other pirates who had taken a lady for the night. Jane clapped on beat with the drum beats watching her friend dance. Caden offered her to dance and with hesitancy she accepted, spinning around crazily with her friend. She giggled like a maniac, feeling the wind in her hair and underneath her dress.

“Not a party person?”, Caden laughed as he spun with Jane.

“ I’m not”, jane giggled. She let out a soft squeal as Caden passed her to Adhar to dance. Her forehead fell onto Adhar’s shoulder as she tried to catch her breath from laughing so hard. Then suddenly she saw him standing there, brooding, tall and wide. He looked pissed and it stopped her in her tracks. The music seemed to screech at a halt when Roman’s presence was noticed.

“ You lot take that back down to the beach. Some of us like to sleep”, Roman snapped before stalking into his cabin. The shift in the mood changed as the gathering party walked back down the ramp, clutching their playthings to their sides. The mood was ruined.

“ I’ll see you in the morning Jane”, Caden waved as he walked back with everyone else.

Jane was seeing red. Roman was acting like an absolute prick and she surprised even herself as she stomped over to his door and flung it open. She walked inside on a mission. A single candle light illuminated the room and it was more cluttered than usual but not dirty. Still unusual for him.

“ And just what is the matter with you ?!”, Jane snapped.

Roman stood from his desk holding his books and taking them over to the book shelf.

“ I beg your pardon?”, he said with his back turned.

“ Don’t play coy. What’s wrong NOW ?”, Jane snorted.

“ You”, he says quietly.

“ Me ? “

“ Yes —you”, he snapped. His body language turned defensive as he crossed his arms. She slowly closed the space between them.

“ What have I done ?”

“ Jane look, I’m not in the mood for this right now. Enjoy yourself. I have things to do”, Roman dismissed her.

“ I’m not going anywhere. Be a man and tell me what I could have possibly done to make you upset ?”, Jane spat. Roman hated that tone and suddenly he was losing his grip on his temper for the second time today.

“ You call me an ass before I can even so much as utter a reasoning behind my statement. I’m called an ass and then dismissed? You ask Adhar for lessons but not me? Then you’re dancing with him and you’re so content in his arms like there’s no place you’d rather be?”

Jane’s brows rise in confusion.“ You’re jealous? You of all people ??!”

“ Is the sky fucking blue ?”, Roman hissed.

“ I’m sorry that I do not pet your ego the way you like. I’m sorry I’m not living up to the mousey silent role you’re used to seeing me play ”, Jane scoffs.

“ Don’t do that…”, Roman raised his tone half an octave. Still calm but more alert. He points his finger at her. “ Do not do that. Don't pretend that this is my gender. This has nothing to do with that. Don’t cop out with that. Not after everything”, Roman scolds.

“ Well what else could it be ? I’m actually enjoying myself now and suddenly you have a problem with it ?! I thought you’d be happy for me. I thought that me learning to sword would ease your worry after what happened to the Black jewel. But...THIS ?”, said Jane.

“ I have no name or category to identify what we share. I see the way he looks at you.”

“ Adhar is not like that. His heart belongs to another.”

“ I know men. I’m a man, I know a man in lust when I see one. You’re a beautiful woman Jane. Any red blooded male would be a fool not to— “

“ This IS about your gender because you sound like a stupid man !” Jane raged. Roman seemed taken aback for a moment but didn’t dare speak. Even Jane herself looked shocked. Back in London she would NEVER raise her voice to a man—it’s certain to earn a slap. But something so visceral bubbled inside her now.

“ First it’s Adhar. Then it’s your problem with me swording. You’re starting to sound like all the rest of them. So sure that you know what a girl needs—that you know what’s right. That you know the natural order.”

“ You’re are aiming your frustration at the wrong person Jane.”

“ No, I think I’m a damn good shot. Why can’t you see that I’m tired of being the person things happen to. Every moment of my life—victim. VICTIM. I don’t want to be weak. Why can you let me do this for myself ? Why are you so threatened ? You let Alice—

“ Alice wasn’t like you.”

She gets louder. “ What does that even mean?!”

“ Forget it.”

She fully yelling now.“ What does that mean ?!! Alice was stronger ?!!”

“ Jane”, Roman warns in a low tone. Something in her stomach is telling her to leave now before this combusts. Her pride pushes onward.

“ She was taller, more capable ? Not weak like me? So I’m doomed to be a victim!?”

“ Jane” he warns even lower. He rubs his beard with annoyance.

“ I can’t want more for myself ?!”

He erupts..

“ I DIDN'T CARE FOR ALICE LIKE I CARE FOR YOU!”, he roars.

Silence falls.

Roman begins to pace. “ You are driving me to madness. Every moment I think of you…the bruises I saw on you. Your eyes….the way you shook. The way you held yourself like you were preparing for—- he catches himself and closes his eyes for a moment. She watches his tense body language assessing if she should run. However…something told her that she was okay.

“ It’s not that I think you aren’t capable, Jane. It’s that you shouldn’t have to fight. You shouldn’t have to touch a sword. You shouldn’t have to prepare for the worst. You’ve paid your dues —this I know to be true. For your every presence to grace this ship should be nothing short of a privilege. It is a miracle—you’re a miracle. I wanted to take care of you. Even if you forbid me from ever kissing you again. Even if you decide you can’t stand my very presence. Even if you’ve fallen for another..I need to take care of you.”

Jane stands there stunned for a moment. Seeing Roman lose control of the calm demeanor he always presented her with… was shocking. Now as if she’s forced his hand, he finally tells her the depth of what he feels. His irritation was short lived and the truth he blurted seemed to dampen his anger as quickly as it came.

“ And maybe that very desire is chauvinistic. And yes I’m jealous. How can I not be ? We kissed and I’ve been replaying it in my head ever since. You pulled away and I don’t blame you—I promised you I wouldn’t. You needed time and I’ve given you that—I’ll give you more. But can’t I have this ? Am I not allowed to seethe at the way your eyes meet another ? As I fear that I’ve lost your favor in the weeks we’ve been distant? After all, it is you who said that I’m a person. Not just a man but I'm a person Jane. Am I not a slave to my own flesh just like everybody else?”, he says in a quiet begging tone.

Never has a man expressed his desire for her in this way. But not just desire, no. There was adoration….admiration too. He has disarmed her. Now she stared at him with tears rimming her eyes as she felt this unusual need to be closer to him. To hide her face in his chest like an embarrassed child. To cry.

Her voice cracked. “ You can protect me by liberating me, Roman. Arming me to defend myself.”

He sighed in disappointment. “ If you wanted to leave I would have let you.”

“ I chose this.”

“ Why….?”

“ I’ve had more rights on this ship than I’ve had in my entire life. And when you look at me……”, Jane’s eyes trail down to her shoes now and she can’t help but to closer her eyes to speak the words, as if she was hiding from them herself.

“ When you look at me it feels like you're looking AT me. Like you see me on the inside too. Like I’m a whole person. I’m not lesser. You don’t straighten your stance in power when I look away. You don’t smirk when I’m trembling. I’m not some background object or a side character. And you know what that’s like…don't you? You know what it’s like to be observed like an animal…to be treated like furniture. Moved around…herded from place to place like livestock. To be judged for your color, your features, your build, your words, your very essence. You know what it’s like for people to feed on your fear…to survive and sustain themselves on it. You’re the first man who’s ever looked at me—really looked at me like I mattered. That’s why I chose this ship, that's why I chose you Roman. And that’s why I know that after all you’ve done for me…you’ll let me have this too. You’ll be happy for me.”

He melts. Not in his stance but his eyes. They soften and deepen. His brows raise in defeat. His shoulders relax. His gaze darts around the room for reprieve. She has penetrated his defenses. On his cheeks, the faintest flush. He rubbed his fingers along his temples. His self control has weakened. He was back to pacing around the room again.

“Go to bed”, he says firmly.

This catches her off guard. She just spilled his heart out and suddenly had no regard for it. “NO”, she scoffed.

“Jane..”

“Roman..”

“ Jane. GO. TO. BED”, he warns.

“Don’t tell me what to do. You’re not my father.”

“ You’re damn right I’m not your goddamn father. And bless him for dealing with such infuriating —

She slaps him. He hit a soft spot mentioning her father and she slapped him across the face. It happened quicker than she had time to understand and then suddenly his mouth was on hers. Hers was on his. Suddenly, as she tasted the ale on his tongue, she understood what the anger brewing outside the two of them was. Passion. He pauses hesitantly, pulling his face from hers. She claws at his hair forcing his mouth back to hers. He sucks on her tongue pressing her up against the wall.

They stop for a moment, taking a second to stare at one another. The room is filled with panting and unspoken lust. She inhales the air he exhales. Forehead to forehead she can see the uncertainty creeping up on his face.

“ I have been trying hard to be a good man. Do you know the things I think about doing to you?”

“ That’s okay”, she answers desperately twisting against his touch. Desperately wanting friction.

“ I’m not a good man Jane. I kill people. I steal and I lie. Since the moment you’ve been on this ship I’ve tried my best to hide the depravity that I feel when I’m near you. You have possessed me…Jane.”

“ I—I don’t care what you are”, she groans into his mouth trying to catch it with her own. He pulls back further.

“ You will be a criminal by association if you choose me.”

“ I’m already a criminal by British standards. There is nothing left in that life for me”, she hissed in frustration pressing her breast against his chest. She feels up and down his arms and then her fingers tug at his shirt. That nearly unraveled him but he once again restrained himself. She was operating on an entirely animalistic desire.

“ I will—I’ll stop this. Tell me to stop”, he begged as his mouth found her neck.

“No”, she moaned.

“ Say it…say you want me to stop”, he groaned as he bit into her skin.

“ touch me”, she gasped.

And then…everything in the room seemed to swirl and blend into itself. She wasn’t shaking in fear. She wasn’t tearing herself away; she was unequivocally open to him. Their mouths smashed and crashed against one another like how water met rock. Her hands dig into his skin, wishing she could borrow them into his flesh until she merged her bones with his own.

Something was primal about this. These feelings seemed to have boiled to the top and blew the lid on both of their self control. He dragged her like a rag doll over to the front of his desk. He swiped it clean with a massive clatter of objects to the floor before resting her on the hard surface.The kiss continued and it got sloppier. She sucked on his bottom lip unabashedly. Her nails dug into the side of his arm. Her legs parted making room for his large frame. She pulled away motioning for his shirt. He pulls it off in a frenzy exposing his ripped physique. He was covered in tattoos all across his chest and down the left side of his body. Her eyes widened in desire, clawing for his skin and rubbing her fingers against his chiseled stomach. He was firm and soft. She arched into him as he kissed down her neck pulling her nightgown down to expose one of her breasts. He pulls it into his mouth and sucks. She moans at the warmth of his tongue flicking back and forth over the skin. His teeth grazed her nipple and she twitched from the sensation leaning into it once more. He switched to the other nipple while massaging her other breast.

“ These tits..”, he mumbled against a mouthful of breast before kissing back up to her awaiting mouth. Her fingers climbed down to the waistband of his pants before trailing back up to his shoulders. She figured she should mention that she wasn’t sure if she was ready to go all the way. She could feel him unbuckling his pants.

Just before she blurted out the words, he bent to his knees and pushed his hands under her bum, pulling her hips down towards him. Her panties went first and quickly. He bunched up her skirt revealing her naked sex and she instinctively tried to close them. He used to hands to keep them pryed open.

“ …so pretty”, he whispered quietly before licking his thumb and pressing it firmly against her clit. She took a sharp inhale of air and stiffened against the desk. Without warning a hot mouth found her clit and the room melted together in a haze of unidentifiable pleasure. What was this feeling ? How has no woman bothered to mention it to her ?

He pulled away rubbing her clit in circles and watching her squirm. She had no time to adjust as he dragged his tongue in a single swipe through her folds to catch every drop of arousal that stuck to her. They both groaned, him from the taste and her from the intrusion.

A shout spurted from her lips as he sucked her clit again “ Fuck!”, she winced as she found her hand in his hair. Her face was downturned into a permanent pout as he lapped on the mess of her inner thighs. He cleaned her arousal thoroughly before heading straight to her target again.

“ Roman”, she croaked quietly. This feeling was not one that came often to her. She experienced it a handful times before at her own expense. But now it was a sensory overload. His beard, his lips, his tongue, his hands, the cold table —it was different. And not only that, he was enthusiastic about. He groaned like he received pleasure and that confused her. What man could recieve pleasure from inflicting pleasure on his lady? She believed sex to be transactional and serving to one person only. But not anymore as he lapped her clit with the tip of his tongue.

With each pass her fingers dug tighter into his hair and she desperately tried to control the sounds that slipped past her tucked lips. Would somebody hear? Are people still here? Does she sound horrible? What if he doesn’t like the sound ?

But another wave of intense pleasure hit her as he began to swirl his tongue in circles which pulled her out of her thoughts. She pulled his hair unintentionally and he pressed hard against her. His sucking and licking became firmer and the moans she kept concealed slipped out louder. She covered her mouth.

“ Take your hand from your mouth”, He mumbled against her skin. She looked down at him crazily.

“ T-They’ll hear”, She stuttered quietly.

“ This is my ship. If someone’s there then they’ll get the fucking point ”, He rebuttaled followed by a long lap against her whole sex.

She apprehensively took her hand from her mouth and breathed through another overwhelming wave of pleasure. She felt it the most in her core and then it spread all over her body.

He sat back and opened her legs to see her, still keeping his arms hooked around her hips. She looked down at him but quickly reverted her gaze back to the ceiling. He extends his tongue and fucks her opening, filling her with it completely. He gets messy, taking his lips and swiping them up and down her folds, coating himself in her. A gentle slap to her thigh causes her to jump as she looks down at him quizically.

“ W-what”, she gasps.

“ Look at me”, he says before going right back to his pattern. Lap, flick, swirl, suck.

“ I- I can’t. I can’t or I’ll cum”, she whined.

“ That’s the point love,” he chuckled into her which shot vibrations against her sensitive flesh.

“ Come on..”, he coaxed gently rubbing her back and forth with his thumb. She slowly raised her head to look at him.

A wet beard, A long wet pink tongue, and deep brown eyes stared back at her. He flicked at her clit slowly staring her down with no shame and as she suspected, she fell apart within seconds. She shouted. Mortifyingly enough the release was way bigger than she prepared herself for as she felt her body shake and cramp up viciously. He held her down through it—-prolonging it with quick flickers by the tip of his tongue. As for his hair, her fingers were pulling it like horse reins. To get him to stop she had to push his head away. He gave her some reprieve.

There she laid, absolutely wrecked and throbbing. A few moments of silences passed between them as he lapped up her release before finally pulling away. Holy..fuck.

“ We are going to have to break this prissy behavior of yours. Your wound up tight. I want to see what happens when you lose control.” He says in an astute tone.

“ I’m pretty sure I did just a second ago”, she pants.

“ Oh nowhere close dove. Come…sit on my face.”

Her eyes popped out of her head. “ But I already came…just a second ago.”

“ Don’t tell me you’ve never stacked your orgasms on top of each other. Oh you have so much to learn”, he picked her up from the table and placed her on his bed.

“ Get on your hands and knees”, he constructed gently.

Jane obliged and felt him slide into a lying position underneath her. There were no pleasantries, he just buried her face in her cunt. From this angle she could fully feel his breath, his nose, his beard, his warmth— times ten. It instantly drew a long moan from her.

She was already so sensitive from the first climax but Roman’s tongue seemed to find new areas to torture and wring pleasure from. She never thought she’d enjoy riding a tongue until now. He used his hands to rock her up and down, impaling her on his tongue like a cock. He made sure to angle the tip of his nose right at her clit and pressed firmly earning a loud moan from her.

“ Roman wait —-fuck!”, she moaned. He just groaned in appreciation, sucking her clit with fivour.

“ Roman are you sure I’m not suffocating….”, she didn’t even finish the sentence as another high pitched moan rang through her. He didn’t bother to answer and instead hummed against her skin.

Something had changed in his demeanor. He was more ravenous this round, nearly swiping the entirety of her cunt against his face. It was getting to be too much as she got louder and louder, leaning forward to bury her face into one of his pillows. He reached up and snatched it from under her just to hear every whine that came from her mouth.

“I can’t—I’m gonna—- fuck wait !”, she panicked. And sure enough there it was, her second climax. It surprised her that her body gave it up so easily. Perhaps it really needed it. And now it was barreling towards her with vengeance. When it finally slammed into her, she winced and fell face flat on the bed screaming her lungs out.

Her ears were ringing as she felt him pull away. She remained with her face planted. Roman gently nudged her onto her, back assessing the damage. She was properly ruined, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat and a rouge tear making its way down her temple.

He was glorious of course. Shirtless with a soaked beard…panting like he took a jog or something. He sat next to her taking his shirt and wiping his wet beard off and then his neck.

“ Was I wanton enough for you ?”

“ Terribly so”, He chuckled leaning down to kiss her lips. A wave of tiredness came over her. She sat up ready to go back to her cabin. Roman pulled the covers over her in defiance.

“ Stay awhile”, he insists.

“ Are you sure ?”, she croaks tiredly.

“ Positive. I have work to do. Rest”, he leaned down to kiss her forehead. She would protest but a yawn took its place instead. Sleep found her fast.

When she woke up in the morning to the smell of toast she sat up with a proper yawn. Roman sat across the room polishing something shiny.

“ Ah you're awake. Sleep well? I did”, he flashed a white smile at her. She wanted to pull the covers back over her head remembering last night.

“ I….”

“ For you”, he walked over to her and placed a brand new golden sword and a musket in front of her.

“ Adhar can teach you sword. I’ll teach you to shoot.”

#spotify #roman reigns #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x reader #the tribal chief #wwe #wwe smackdown #pirate au #roman reigns au #the head of the table

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