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andreawritesit · 2 months

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The Red Storm - Part II

Fandom - One Piece

Pair - Shanks x Reader

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“Dadan!” you shout while opening the worn-down door of her house. “I got the kids!” Ace snorts and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not a kid. These two are. I’m their older brother.” You roll your eyes as Sabo kicks Ace in the back. Luffy ignores them both, runs to you again, and tugs at your shirt. You look down at him and see drool pooling at his mouth. “Where’s the food? You said if we’ll come back with you, Dadan will give us food.”

“Want food, do ya?” Dadan’s voice rings behind them. Sabo lets go of Ace’s hair at once and Ace puts Sabo’s hat back on his head. The two kids stand apart from each other and one can’t even tell that they were beating each other a moment ago. Luffy runs to Dadan and jumps onto her shoulder. “Oi Dadan! Where’s the food?”

The older woman grits her teeth and it takes all her strength to not fling Luffy across the room. Instead, she slowly puts him back down and lets out a loud sigh. “Fine, you’ll get your damn food! Wash the floors first!” All three boys complain aloud but one look from the curly-haired woman shuts them up and they begin mopping the floor. “And you,” she points towards you, “go fetch some booze from Makino. We’re out.” You nod and head to the bar. Ever since Shanks had left, you had stopped going to the bar. That place held too many memories of you two together. Usually, you would straight up refuse to go there but today Dadan was in a very bad mood. It’s better to not rile her up any further. And so you walk down the painfully familiar roads and finally reach the bar. Makino is at her usual place, cleaning some glasses. There are very few people in the bar than used to be. You walk over to the counter where Makino greets you with a wide grin.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you in so long!” she exclaims as she walks over to give you a hug. You smile and hug her back, already feeling nostalgia hit you. Oh, how much fun you would have with her and the Red-Haired Pirates!

Stupid Shanks! And his stupid crew!

“Makino, Dadan has asked for more booze. Do you have any for her?”

Makino put her hand under her chin and seemed to be in deep thought. “I don’t know actually. I think the new supply is arriving later. Will you wait till then?”

“I guess, I mean I don’t really have a choice. Dadan will kill me if I return without booze.”

“Good. Come have a seat. I’ll pour you something.” You nod and sit at your usual seat near the counter. Every now and then your eyes move to the adjacent seat, where he would be sitting with his arm around your waist, narrating his grand adventures. You close your eyes and try to get rid of those images but in vain. And so you resort to drinking the loneliness away.

Shanks enters the dimly lit bar, the familiar scent of alcohol and old wood greeting him, but it is soon overshadowed by the sight of you sitting at the counter, a glass of wine in your hand. The years have been kind to her, he thinks, as he makes his way over to where you are sitting, his heart pounding in his chest.

Before he can even say a word, you feel his presence behind you. I’m being stupid. He can’t be here, can he? Agonizingly slow, you turn around and gasp loudly, the wine glass in your hand falling on the table. His eyes meet yours and you feel your heart stop. Why is he here? How?

You stand up from your chair and take a step towards him. None of you say anything. Shanks stands there, waiting to see your reaction before doing anything. You take another step toward him but you lose your balance and fall forwards. He leaps forward and catches you quickly. "Hi," he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your hands ache to just wrap themselves around him but the disbelief makes them dangle uselessly by your sides as he holds you up. “You look so… so-“

“Old!” comes a voice from behind him. Your head whips around to see Lucky Roux laughing his ass off with a lamb leg in his hand. “Damn girl! You look like you’re a single mother of three!” he adds as he takes another bite of the meat. Shanks lets out a sound something between a laugh and a sigh and sets you back on your feet.

“And you look like you have drank the sea dry!” you retort back. “Did they kick you out of the Grand Line for causing drought?” He laughs again, clearly drunk, and Yasopp joins in this time. Shanks holds your wrist lightly and turns you to him. “Don’t pay him any mind. You look as beautiful as you were, if not more.” You smile at him and your eyes wander over his face, his handsome face you haven’t seen in years. Your hand automatically goes to his face and you run your fingers over his scars. “You’ve gotten more handsome if that’s even possible.” He smirks and runs his hand from your wrist to your shoulder.

“Get a room!” Roux shouts and then chokes on the lamb. You laugh at him and Shanks lets go of your shoulder.

Shanks takes your hand and leads you to your usual seats. The two of you sit down at the bar, talking and laughing as if no time has passed at all. After a lot of alcohol and catching up, you’re both sitting in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

"I've missed you," he says all of a sudden, his voice husky with emotion. You reach out and touch his face, tracing the lines and contours that you know so well. “I’ve missed you too, you dumbass,” you reply, running your thumb over his cheek.

“Why did you come back, Shanks?”

“I had to. We had left something valuable here. We couldn’t possibly go further without it.”

You raise your eyebrow at his response. “What exactly did you leave here?”

“You. I came back to take you with me.” You let out a gasp and shook your head.

“Don’t joke with me!” He intertwines his fingers with yours. “I’m not. I want you to go with us.”

“But…But you said that it’s not safe for me…”

“I know. And it isn’t. But I cannot function properly without you. I have grown so fond of your presence that I couldn’t even look after my crew properly. A feeling of emptiness kept nagging me. It took a lot of alcohol and a dozen scoldings from Benn for me to realize that I needed you with me. Even if it’s dangerous, I’ll protect you with my life. Just come with me, please.” His voice breaks at the end and you have to stop yourself from saying yes immediately.

“But Shanks, what about Luffy? He needs me, no?”

He nods and rests his head on your shoulder. “I heard his grandfather is looking after him. He’ll be safe with him.”

“I guess so but..”

“Do you want to come with me?”

“Well yes but how will I tell that to Luffy? Oh yes, you can come with me! He’ll be so happy to see you and he’ll understand you better!”

Shanks lifts his head and shakes his side to side. “I can’t see him. Not yet. We promised to only meet again when he has become a pirate captain. You’ll have to go say goodbye alone.”

“Meanie…” you mumble under your breath. He laughs and pulls you into his arms. “Sorry, it is what it is.” You huff at his reply and stand up to leave. “Fine you asshole. I’ll go say goodbye. I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning then, alright?” He stands up as well and nods. “Alright, love.”

And then, without another word, Shanks reaches out and gently cups your face in his hands, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes search yours, seeking permission and reassurance. Finding nothing but love and longing reflected back at him, he leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you want to. But you don't. As his lips met yours, it’s like a floodgate is opened. Years of pent-up longing and desire surge through you, and you respond eagerly, your hands finding their way around his neck, pulling him closer. His kiss is soft yet filled with passion, a gentle exploration that speaks volumes about the depth of his feelings. You could taste the sweetness of his lips, and feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. Every touch, every caress is like a promise of all the things that could be, all the moments you have missed out on. When you finally break apart, you are both breathless, your hearts pounding in sync. You look into his eyes, and in that moment, you know that this is where you belong, in his arms, forever.

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I might have to write another part. Yikes

Part III - here

#shanks #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #one piece #one piece fanfiction #andreawritesit

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beanghostprincess · 4 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/pierppasolini/736687946870226944/the-golden-girls-211-twas-the-nightmare

This but it's Shanks explaining to his crew why the clown look is doing it for him

Shanks: Okay so there's just something about clowns-

Yasopp: Are you into clowns?

Shanks: Yes. Not my point here, though. The thing about clowns is that-

Benn: That they look like your ex.

Shanks: What? This has nothing to do with him. Could you hear me out-

Lucky Roux: Not when you're saying you want to fuck clowns!

Shanks: I don't want to fuck clowns!

Yasopp: Yeah guys! He doesn't want to fuck clowns!

Shanks: Thank you! It's just the look-

Yasopp: He only wants to fuck a very specific clown.

Shanks: Stop making fun of me! I'm your captain!

Lucky Roux: But it's so easy!

Yasopp: Easy like Shanks.

Shanks: Please, Beck, you're my first mate, say something.

Benn: I mean... You do sleep with anyone who kind of looks like Buggy. Can't defend you here. Even less the clown thing.

Yasopp: Okay, no, but seriously. I can understand the clown look. I can get behind that. But the fact that all the people you want have blue hair-

Shanks: I got it. Yes. Shut the fuck up. I can't deal with you.

#basically everyone loves bullying shanks #this is the reason why he drinks so much you know #one piece #red haired shanks #shuggy #red hair pirates

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fanaticsnail · 12 days

Text

Daughter of the Sea: Chapter 4

Masterlist Here, Header Masterlist Here

Word Count: 6,500+

Synopsis: After tucking your niece into bed after dinner, the two of you finally give in to your lengthy longing and spend the night in the arms of one another. A revelation once morning arrives has the blissful world you have created with one another come crashing down around you. (Smut in this chapter, MDNI, 18+).

Themes: Unrequited requited love, slow burn, long fic, long distance relationship, friends to lovers, found family dynamics, love over time, (smut, mdni 18+, NSFW - chapters will be marked accordingly), love-making, angst, hurt, gendered terms used, swearing, adult language.

Notes: Benn Beckman x f!reader, platonic!Mihawk x f!reader, platonic!Shanks x f!reader, slight mention of MiShanks ship, Beginning: Shanks is 19, Mihawk is 23, Beckman is 30, f!reader is 22, Uta is 2 months old for the sake of the plot (canonically she's 2 years old). The f!reader is suggested to be native to Kuraigana with her mannerisms and language.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @since-im-already-here @mfreedomstuff @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @indydonuts

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Sifting through Uta's clothes and organizing her room was done hastily; placing her new clothes on hangers and setting up her small vanity. She hummed a tune, enjoying her reflection in the mirror as you worked away at neatening her treasures.

After some time, you turned to see her twirling in place with her new skirts frilling around her in a perfect circle. You were glad her childhood has been happy, especially considering the hardships of your own. Truly glad to spoil her in all the ways you had never been, you stood tall and beckoned her over with a soft wave of your hands.

“Ready for dinner, gorgeous girl?” You asked her, her hand reaching out to collect yours within, “Want to go somewhere that's just us, or do you want to see your crew for a meal?” You placed the velveteen, well-loved hawk plush on her pillow and fixed up her bedsheets.

“Can we go back to the bar place?” she smiled at you, looking down at her bed before placing her hand in yours, “And maybe have a table for just me and you?”

“Of course, sweety,” you reassure her, “Just me and you.”

As you made your way off the Red-Force, you noticed Benn Beckman standing on the deck of the bar, leaning over the side rails and looking to the ocean where you arrived from. He looked at peace, his signature frown missing from his face and a cigarette tucked between his index and middle finger. Dressed in a fine dark button-up shirt, his hair combed back, and his face clean shaven, Beckman had never looked so refined before.

Beside him was Lucky Roux, gnawing at a whole leg of lamb while joking with him. Roux’s wide, toothy grin grew when Uta suddenly tugged at your hand to pull you inside the bar.

“Roux,” you nodded your greeting, Uta tugged you in firmer, “Beckman.” Your eyes met, his silvery orbs mesmerized with the immediate contact. His lips parted, his mouth moving as if to speak, only to immediately shut as Uta thrust you within the doors of the bar.

Both of you were dressed in fine clothes, Uta's new skirts sparkling as she moved towards Shanks and Limejuice who sat alone and laughing together. As she began to demonstrate her new fine-wear to the men, you walked over to the bar and began perusing the menu.

“Need help deciding what to get, love?” a woman's voice prompted you to look up. Her hair was a vibrant green, tucked away from her face by a triangular bandana, “I'm Makino, owner of the bar.” Giving her your name in response, you nodded your greeting to her.

“I’ll take two glasses of water for now, please,” you asked, turning over the menu in your hands to gauge an appropriate meal for your niece, “Uta will likely have some chicken, mashed potatoes and I would love to see her eat some type of green vegetable.”

“We’ve got peas or string beans, do you have a preference?” she readied two glasses with ice and began filling them with water.

“I think the beans would be appropriate,” you shrugged, placing down the menu and sliding it over to her. She exchanged the waters for your Berry, handing them down with an inquisitive smile. You cock your head to the side to read her expression more clearly, your evidence collection being halted when she disclosed her curiosity.

“We don't normally see women dressed in all that finery here. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life,” she admitted to you, prompting you to laugh a little in response. A soft rouge drew up her cheeks, mentally slapping herself.

“Thank you for your compliment, Makino. I truly appreciate it,” you teetered off your laughter, reaching forward to give her hand a soft squeeze, “I'm from Kuraigana. This is the similar style worn by our locals there.”

“Kuraigana? Is that on the Grand Line?” she asked, her curiosity growing as she readied Uta's meal for her. You nodded emphatically, beginning to talk about the land you had been living in under the rule of Dracule Mihawk.

As you both dove deeper into conversation, Benn Beckman and Lucky Roux reentered the bar. The first-mate was in a trance, his gaze locked onto you as your actions moved slower in his mind than what occurred in reality.

The soft bounce of your hair when you laughed, the passion in your eyes as you spoke to Makino, and your grand smile. The smile that haunted him from the moment he first saw you. His heart soared ever higher when Uta joined you at your side, you immediately stooping to aid her up onto the barstool to consume her meal.

He was so desperately in love with you.

Now that he knew you used both his name and love in the same sentence, he needed to make his move. Although he wanted nothing more than to sweep you into his arms and begin wooing you l like his other conquests, he physically couldn't do it. His northern star pointed him to you, calling him home to rest in your arms, but he was still unsure of where to start. He wanted to make you feel special, set aside from the rest, and most importantly: loved.

As Uta finished her meals, dipping her green beans into her mashed potato and using it as a spoon, you continued sipping at your water and praising her for eating her meal. Giving you a wide, toothy grin, Uta jumps up into your lap and starts eagerly discussing her plans for her future. Her dreams of being a singer, her travels to Kuraigana to see you and her Uncle Hawk, and how she wants to have her captain achieve his goals.

Just at the mention of his name, Shanks hovered over the bar, ordering another drink beside you. He pauses, leaning forward and giving you a soft peck on your cheek before leaning down to press his lips on the crown of Uta’s head.

“Thank you for coming to see us while we were docked here,” Shanks whispered to you, collecting his drink from the bar, “Means a lot to all of us here, especially Uta.” He smiled down at his adoptive daughter, extending his arm out to her, “It’s time for you to get to bed, little miss. Want Yassop to take you?”

“I think we both know who Uta wants to take her,” a burly voice rumbled from ahead. Beckman stepped into the bar, his lopsided smile looking first down at Uta before raking his eyes up to meet yours. You return his smile briefly before looking down at your niece.

“Shall I tuck you in, gorgeous girl?” you offered, her overenthusiastic smile immediately rising up her face. She all but sprung out of your lap, gathering your hand and dragging you onto your feet. Before you took a step towards the door, Uta’s unoccupied hand reached up and gathered Beckmans within her own.

You both briefly made eye contact once more before she dragged you towards her lodgings for the night. She was happily chirping away to Beckman, recounting all of her day with you and her in town. He would ask the occasional question, humming in interest when it was called for, all the both of you would steal looks from one another like coy, lovesick teenagers.

You both readyed Uta in her pajamas, tucking her into her bedsheets and reading her a fairytale from one of her new books. After all the bedtime routine took its course, you gave Uta one final squeeze goodnight and kissed the apple of her cheek.

“Goodnight, gorgeous girl,” you whispered to her, “I'll see you in the morning. We could have breakfast together, if you like.”

“Pretty A-...,” she yawned, stretching her arms above her head and nestling into her sheets, “...-Aunty, I would like that. Pancakes?”

“We can do pancakes,” Beckman nodded, smoothing over her sheets and drawing up her quilted blanket to keep her warm, “I'll get up early and make the batter for you, okay?”

“You're the best, Uncle Beckman,” she uttered snoozily, her eyes drooping as she flopped further into her bed, “Both my favorites together.”

Quietly exiting the room, you clicked her bedroom door closed before looking around the shared communal lounge. You clicked your tongue at the miscellaneous items askew in the room, immediately setting to work and tidying up after the Red-Hair crew.

“Leave it, Darlin’,” Beckman urged you, collecting a cigarette from his pocket alongside his lighter, “The boys’ll get to it.” You huffed a gentle laugh, continuing to collect empty drinking containers, clothing items and dirty bowls and mugs. Placing the clothes in baskets, the food utensils and containers on the bench top, and turned to face him.

“Leave me be, Becks,” you shook your head with a soft smile, “Don't keep your date waiting, and let me put myself to use while I'm here.” You continued fussing in the room, leaving Beckman perplexed while mulling over your comment.

“She is very pretty,” you continued, sighing as you began to fill the basin of the sink with warm, soapy water, “You always did know how to pick the best ones.” Beckman coughed out a soft laugh, choking on his thoughts.

Spinning on your toes to gaze up at him, you waved him off with a gentle “shoo.” Beckman's mind was racing, watching you hastily turn off the tap to the basin and gather the dishes into a neatly stacked pile. Immediately drawn back to you ushering him away to rest after being so long at sea, cradling the infant Uta in your arms, supplying the Red-Force with all the ship needed to embark on the adventure: his mind zeroed in on that single moment.

As you hummed while starting to wash the drinking glasses first, he was immediately overwhelmed by those first emotions from so long ago. He neither had the constitution, nor the energy, to make his move back then: his body too sleep deprived and seaworn to truly depict his adoration for you.

He was under no such plight now.

Just when you placed the last of the drinking cups to dry on the rack beside the sink, two strong arms wrapped around your stomach while a face buried itself in the crease of your shoulder. You froze in shock, eyes wide and unblinking. Lips found your neck, sweet kisses pressed into your skin and leading down into your shoulder.

“Beckman, what are you doing?” Your breathy voice gave you away to him, truly reveling in the attention, “You're all dressed up, and your date is waiting for you-.”

“-I got dressed up for you, Darlin’,” he groaned, his lips trailing back up from your shoulder to your neck, “Only for you.” You quickly dried your hands, turning in his arms and pushing him gently on his shoulders.

“And the woman at the bar?” you asked him, brows raised and eyes darting between his half-lidded orbs. He could barely focus on forming a sentence, his mind wanting nothing but to give into what his body was craving.

“Just a kiss, nothin’ more, I swear to you,” he confessed hurriedly. His hands began to tremble as they held you firmly, your attention momentarily drawn to them before turning back to face him.

“You deserve so much more than a simple kiss, Benn Beckman,” you gazed up into his eyes, both of you mirroring the same unspoken emotions you had for one another.

“I don't want to have anything more with anyone else,” he whispered, his body moving forward, his torso brushing against your chest, “I just want you,” his voice caught in his throat as he confessed, “Only ever you.”

The love between you was physically tangible, desire rolling from you both in waves. Before managing to speak a single word of confession, you both became overwhelmed by the sensation of finally holding each other in your arms.

Lips crashed almost violently, Beckman pinning you against the kitchen counter by his hips while your hands caught his lengthy hair in fistfuls. He pawed at your legs, hoisting you up and sitting you firmly on the counter while your lips began to attack his cheek, chin and jaw with your lips.

Turning his head, he reclaimed your lips beneath his, his hips slotting between your legs and growled into your lips as you untied his hair from within the elastic. His hair fell like curtains over his shoulders, your hands gathering up the strands and holding his head hostage to your passionate and bruising kisses.

Sliding his hands over your thighs, he hurriedly snaked his arms over your hips and drew you in closer. Pelvises brushing, you whined into his lips when you felt the outline of his stiff cock grinding against your clothed core. As you parted your lips and shifted your chin, Beckman darted his tongue out to stroke yours and deepen the desperate oscillation.

“Becks,” you sighed, hands perching on his shoulders as he trailed his lips along the outside of your mouth, “Becks, stop.” He immediately broke away, eyes wide and panicking.

“I'm sorry, Darlin’,” he gasped, your hands leaving his hair and his hands leaving your body, “Did I misread something? Did you not want this-?”

“-Uta is sleeping in the other room, sweetheart,” you whispered, a love-struck smile rising to your lips as you caressed his cheek, “And Yassop was going to come and take over supervision any second,” you tucked a stray piece of fallen hair behind his ear, “I don't particularly want us to be caught, pants down and ass out by the crew.”

Beckman’s rumbled laughter was contagious, your own joining his as he stooped lower and pressed his lips against your cheek. His lips traveled again to your mouth and hummed as his warm and slow kisses pressed against yours. Pulling away, he gazed deeply into your eyes and softened his expression: eyes half-lidded, lips parted and a small smile painted over his mouth.

“I am truly,” he kissed you with a soft peck, “deeply,” followed by another chaste kiss, “desperately,” he held his lips firmly against yours, deepening it briefly before pulling away, “In love with you.”

His confession caused your heart to beat violently against your chest, eyes swelling at the truth he disclosed to you. You collected his cheeks within your palms, rubbing a soft circle over his lips with your right thumb.

“I loved you from the moment you placed Uta in my arms,” you admitted, your voice wavering a little as you truly came to terms with your emotions, “And I have loved you every day since.” He laughed, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I win,” his nose circled your own, scrunching briefly in playful teasing, “I loved you the moment I first saw you. Just before you and Mihawk got into that large brawl, from memory.”

As the tension swelled once more between you, you shook off the feeling as soon as you heard heavy boots outside the door. Beckman broke away from you, turning away and readying his cigarette and lighter as you approached the sink. Surely and steadily as you washed the dishes, the door to the lodgings swung open to reveal Yasopp.

His pistol lay at his side, strutting on through with a soft nod to you before sharing a pointed look with Beckman.

“She sleepin’?” Yassop asked, brow raised high. Your back was turned, concentrating fully on the task of washing the dishes.

“Aye, she is,” Beckman confirmed as he lit his cigarette, inhaling a deep lungful of smoke, “You eaten?”

“Makino made some lamb stew,” Yassop confessed, wandering around to the kitchen, leaning against the countertop Beckman had pinned you against moments prior, “Had to fight Roux for the last bowl.”

“Ah, that settles my next question,” Beckman uttered, his hand raising to the crown of his head and raking through his fallen locks with his fingers, “No chance of gettin’ some leftovers for us, Darlin'.”

You huffed a soft laugh, looking at him over your shoulder and smiling mischievously.

“I have some supplies back on my ship from town,” you admitted with a shrug, “I could cook you something, if you like.”

Beckman closed his eyes, cocking his head to the side and attempting to bite back his growing smile by clamping his lips tightly around his cigarette. Yassop shot Beckman a knowing smirk, walking away from the benchtop and approaching the sink.

“Let me handle that, Hon,” he picked up a dish and nudged you away with his hips, “Go get some food sorted for you and the big guy.” Your heart began to race, turning to glance up at Beckman through your eyelashes.

“Thank you, Yassop,” you praised him, fully unable to tear your eyes away from Beckman's as his eyes darkened.

The walk back to your ship passed in almost a blink. As soon as your foot stepped atop your boat, your fine dress was immediately hoisted over your head to leave you in your lingerie. Beckman's shirt was hastily unbuttoned and shrugged away from his shoulders. All while undressing one another, your lips never left seeking out new bare flesh to press themselves against.

Finally in the crew quarters of your personal ship, your legs wrapped themselves around Beckmans hips as he wove his left hand around your shoulders, and right hand snaked around your hips to hold you firmly in place. His lips we're eagerly consuming your lips, jaw, neck and down your chest as he lined his swollen cock up with your glistening slit.

Before he prodded you with his knob, he hesitated, snapping his face up to meet with yours. You looked up at him, eyes blown with lust and lashes half-lidded. Hand caressing his cheek, he turned his chin to collect your palm beneath his lips.

“Everything okay?” you asked him in a airy whisper.

“I just-...” he darted his eyes between yours, looking down to your lips before floating back up, “...I want you to know this isn't just a notch for me,” he confessed, prodding you open with his knob, “I’ve wanted this for so long, and I want you to know how much I love you”

You smiled, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of his knob slowly stretching you open with shallow thrusts. Reopening them, your eyes met: Beckman's expressive silver globes pooling with love and adoration for you.

“If you're asking me if I love you too, please know that I do,” you whimper as he sheathed more of himself into you, your walls molding to the shape of his cock with each slow thrust, “Oh, Becks. I love you,” you moaned, arching your back as his cock sheathed itself deeply inside you.

“F-Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned, his forehead falling into the crease of your shoulder and neck. He began thrusting slowly, keeping the majority of his cock buried down to the hilt. His pelvis brushed against your clit, each intentional motion his hips made had his mushroomed tip curve to hit your g-spot.

You anchored your hands on his shoulders, hastily circling his shoulders to hold him closer. Your feet joined at the ankles, digging your heels into his back to prompt him to keep going. He picked up the pace, deep thrusts brushing your g-spot before pushing deeper to reach further depths within you.

“Fuck, Becks,” you moaned, arching your back and pressing your head against the pillow, “R-Remind me-... Nghmm-... Remind me again why we w-weren’t doing this f-for the past five years.”

“N-No fucking clue, Darlin’,” Beckman huffed, his hips rutting faster as he bullied your walls to take more of his brutal pace, “Coulda had you so many ways in that gloomy castle.”

“How would you’ve had me?” your mind began to fog, your smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He turned his head to face you, his grin mirroring yours between panted breaths.

“Woulda’ had you bent over that desk a few times,” he laughed, eyes rolling back as he felt your walls clench around his shaft. “Fuck,” he groaned your name, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek, “Woulda’ had you sit at that fuckin’ desk chair, and wrap your gorgeous thighs around my face while you did your paperwork.”

You mewled as he unwrapped his left arm from your shoulder to rake at your thigh, carefully supporting it against his hips as he continued snapping his pelvis against yours.

“Pick a place in the grounds,” he groaned, his motions becoming staggered as he felt his release rapidly approach, “There's the maze,” he smirked, his gaze turning wicked and feral, “Woulda’ chased you through the damn thing in nothin’ but lingerie and some sensible running shoes.” You laughed, turning it into a short whine as he bullied his swollen tip against your g-spot.

“Oh, fuck, Beckman. I-I’m right there,” you cried, feeling the coil begin to tighten in the pit of your abdomen. Your hands pawed at him, desperately attempting to find something to tether you to the world before it came crashing down around you.

“I got you, I got you,” he chanted, his left hand leaving your thigh as he raised your hips with his right and began pistoning your body against his skin. His impossible strength heightened the pleasure he was snapping into you. Your body was flint, his hips the rock that sparked the fire to ignite your flame.

He collected your hands from his shoulders, his index finger anchoring your two wrists together as his thumb and three fingers tugged them away from his shoulders and above your head. He pressed your knuckles against the plush pillow of your bed, using his body weight to pin you against the bed.

“Becks,” you whined, “Becks, I'm close.”

“Me too, me too,” he nodded, his hips snapping with crude, wet slaps echoing within your bedroom. Mewls of your bliss and gruff groans of Beckman's own rapid approach harmonized together, your voices carrying chants of one another's names over the sea.

As your eyes began to see the dancing lights behind them, your body buzzing with bliss, Beckman's voice barked over your hypnotism to break the trance.

“Eyes on me, Darlin’,” he growled, “Wanna see you come undone. Wanna see it in your eyes.” You took your bottom lip between your teeth as you forced your eyes to stay open. He pummeled himself into you, your body beginning to shoot the buzzed sparks throughout your stomach to your toes.

“Becks, I-I'm gonna-...” you anchored your legs firmly against his body as your orgasm began to hit you, “...Beckman-... Fuck-... Beckman, I'm cumming.” Your body erupted into pure, electrified bliss. Eyes never leaving his, Beckman could see your unravel as his own shot through him.

“Fuck, Darlin’,” he barked, his hips staggering while his entire length was sheathed completely down to the hilt, “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.” Your walls wrung around his cock in rhythmic contractions, squeezing his shaft to the same rhythm he sheathed himself within you.

You attempted to wriggle away from his grip, the overstimulation causing you to panic a little beneath him. Sensing the panic in your arms, he released your hands from above your head and drew them up to his hair. Wasting no time, you drew his face down to meet yours, your lips consuming his whole he chased his bliss within you.

As your hands tangled in his hair, he rut himself deeply within you, his cock twitching and beginning to spill himself deeply within you. He was usually careful, wrapping himself in a barrier to hold back his spend. With you, he all but lost that thought the moment your lips met his for the first time back in the lodgings.

“I’m g-gonna-,” he warned you, his hips staggering, “Where? Where do you-.” You wrapped your legs tightly around his hips, refusing to allow him space to pull away from you as you sucked a dark, purple oval against his neck. “F-Fuck, Darlin’. Fuck, I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Please, let me have you,” you whined against his neck, biting at his flesh as you felt the rapid approach of his hard cock within you, “Please let me have all of you.”

He chanted your name, the crude snaps of his hips staggered while fully sheathed within you. Ropes of his spend shot deep within you in short spurts. His face eagerly sought out yours, his lips collecting your mouth and groaning deeply within.

His hips stilled, his cock twitching as he continued to slowly rock his hips against yours. He released a breathy whisper, something you weren't anticipating to follow. Caressing your cheek, he looked down at you while whispering in his best attempt at Kuraiganan

“I love you.”

Your thoughts betrayed you, eyes beginning to pool with emotion at his heavily accented depiction of the language. His intentions were pure, prompting you to relay your own heart in your practiced tongue.

“I love you too, Beckman,” you whispered, your hands smoothing over the fallen strands of his hair, “More than I could ever truly say, with any uttered tongue. I love you more than you could ever dream of.” He smiled, shaking his head while attempting to understand your words.

“My Kuraiganan is lackluster,” he admitted with a short laugh, his body and yours still tingling with the aftershocks of the bliss, “But I think I got the sentiment.” He chuckled, pressing his lips against yours and passing his smile to you. Your own lips mirrored his, you both groaning as he pulled his cock out of you.

He rolled beside you, cradling your shoulders against him as he continued to move his lips in slow and intentional kisses.

For the first time since early childhood, your guard completely dropped. The walls fell away from guarding your heart from the pain of breaking, each rock of resolve gently pried away by Beckman's lips coaxing you to give in. He felt your body relax, his own following suit as he allowed his hardened heart to warm to the unspoken promises of tomorrow.

You both felt exactly in the place you needed to be, that place being within the arms of a lover you valued as equal to you.

Basking in the soft afterglow of your love for a few more moments, you slowly got up and placed Beckman's dark, button-up shirt over your body; drowning in the fabric. He laughed at you, sitting up as you went to your small bathroom to gently rinse yourself of your prior collection of joint release.

Upon exiting the room, you brought a small dish and washcloth to the man sitting in your bed. You knelt beside him, gently placing the warmed water onto his body and cleansing him.

“I really should be doing this for you, you know,” he smirked as you continued to drag the cloth over his abdomen and down to his shaft.

“Why would I expect you to, especially after you were the one who topped me?” you laughed, your hands circling a ring around his cock and drawing out the final drops of his release into the washcloth.

“You saying you could top me?” Beckman taunted you, nudging your thigh with his knee.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you purred at him, leaning over his torso and tucking a loose strand of hair over his ear, “I was being nice letting you take the lead because you're special to me,” you brought your mischievous smirk over to him, cocking your head to the side and uttering your soft promise. “When you're ready again, I'll show you how good it can be.”

Your challenge did not end unseen, your night almost sleepless as your joint pleas, cries of bliss, and praises echoed well into the dark of the night. As your body finally gave in to the sweet call of slumber, that rest was found tucked within the strong arms of Benn Beckman. His slow and steady heartbeat lulled you to sleep, just as the gentle rise and fall of your chest had him blissfully achieve the best sleep he's had aboard a ship.

As the sun began to rise, Beckman woke first. He felt you nuzzle into him as he began to shift, taking a moment to commit this picture to memory. His heart was with you, his love and adoration carried with every breath you took. As you stirred, he pressed his lips against your temple.

“Mornin’, Darlin’,” his smooth drawl has you swooning as your eyes flutter open.

“Good morning, my love,” you whispered, leaning up and pressing your lips against his in a gentle kiss. Marks of your night together showed itself in soft hues of purple, small indentations of teeth and scratches on your bodies. Gazing down at you, he clicked his tongue as a reprimand to himself about his rough treatment of you.

“Shouldn't ‘a gripped you so hard,” he scolded, his index finger tracing down your body and bringing your attention to the perfect cast of his hand against your hips.

“I probably should not have sunk my teeth into your shoulder like that, either,” you noted, nudging your face against his shoulder. A small, wicked grin began to simmer atop your lips, your eyes filled with mischief as you asked, “Want me to make it up to you?”

Before he could utter a word, you were already straddling his waist, peppering his cheeks, neck and shoulders with kisses as the rush of morning blood swelled his cock with eager anticipation. Both indulging in chasing your highs, you skillfully raked yourself over Beckman’s thick cock until your walls contracted in blissful flutters around his girth; his seed spilling within you as your lips pressed against one another.

This time, Beckman did all the heavy lifting with aftercare. He drew you a warm bath, your iron pipes heating your water reserves and filling the large basin with soapy water as you lay in your bed, laughing at yourself as you felt truly happy.

The taps squeaked off, your long-haired lover returning to you with his pants hanging limply from his hips. His lips collected yours beneath his, giving you a lengthy kiss as you leant into him. Pulling away, he gazed deeply into your eyes as his smile illuminated his face.

“I promised our niece pancakes,” he reminded you, nudging your chin with his nose, “Come join us after your bath. I'll have coffee waiting for you back at the lodgings.” You swooned, whimpering at the thought as he laughed at you.

“You truly are a man after my own heart, aren't you?” you uttered more as a statement than a question, “Pancakes for the princess, coffee for the-.”

“-The queen,” he hastily confirmed your title to him, reaching down and collecting your left hand within his right, “You're my queen.” He pressed his lips on your knuckles while looking deeply into your eyes.

“Oh, stop it, flatterer,” you giggled at him, turning your left hand within his to collect his chin, “Would that make you the king?”

“Nay, my lady,” he smiled at you, his lips pressing against your palm before tugging down at your wrist, “I am your knight,” he kissed your wrist, approaching your forearm. “Your loyal soldier,” he trailed a soft kiss down to the inner crease of your elbow. “Your fierce protector,” he trailed his lips over your bicep to your shoulder, “And, most importantly,” he kissed your nose, “I am your friend first.”

“That you are, Benn Beckman,” your dazed and lovestruck eyes held his for a moment, him falling victim to your inquisitive stare, “But the most important aspect is actually,” you sat firmly up, your faces at eye level and leaving no air for misinterpretation. “You are my love,” you confessed, “You will always be my love.”

“As you will be mine,” he whispered, his voice wavering with his confession. He surged his face down to yours, his body caging yours beneath it as he pressed his unwavering love into you to solidify his vow. Just as you moved to hook your legs around his and deepen the kiss, he chuckled, tearing himself off you.

“Enough o’ that,” he chastised you, his eyes shut as he stood upright, “Keep that up, and we won't ever leave this fuckin’ room.” You rose up onto your elbows behind you, sensually biting your lip and carefully dragging your toes over his thigh.

“What if I don't want you to ever leave this room?” His head snapped over to you, his gaze firm and longing.

“You're going to be the end of me,” he sighed, catching your ankle and drawing it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss against it. “Pancakes and coffee first,” he growled, “Then back to this room until my queen is satisfied, yes?”

You giggled a soft, “Aye, sir,” which prompted Beckman to fall deeper into your trap, truly not wanting to leave. You handed him back his shirt, aiding him to thrust his arms into the sleeves, and gave him a soft kiss goodbye. You watched him approach the tavern with a soft bounce in his step, as you shrouded yourself with the door.

As you turned to approach your warm bath, a rumble of your personal Den-Den hummed to life. Puzzled, you reached for the small shell and elevated it to your ear.

“Enjoying your time away with our niece, my dear?” the disinterested call of Mihawk hummed at you through the transponder, “She would be about five now, yes?”

“Good morning, my lord,” you smiled into the transponder as you gathered your bathing supplies to begin basking in the soft call of the water, “Have you arrived back at Kuraigana already, sir-?”

“-I’m sorry, dear,” he spoke over you, his tone depicting an unnatural worry to you, “I truly wanted to know about Uta and the Red-Hair crew, believe me. That will need to wait, I'm afraid. You need to sit down while I tell you this, and ensure you are alone.”

At the swift change of his tone, you sat on your bed, your bathtowl beneath your naked form as you gathered a robe to shroud yourself.

“I am sat, Mihawk,” you informed him in a professionally practiced tone, “What happened? What did you do?”

There was a brief pause, a small stagger of breath within his tone, his voice betraying him as he attempted to steady it. After a moment, he informed you of his travels.

“My bounty has been canceled, and, by association, so has yours.” You cocked your head to the side, holding the shell closer to your ear as he admitted, “I have joined with the marines to become one of the seven warlords of the sea.”

You were immediately flooded with dread, your mind racing with you at this knowledge. Your bounty was hefty, your collection of whispers on the wind keeping you informed of hunters and marines before you docked or left Kuraigana.

“What does that mean?” You asked, shaking your head as you attempted to process the information, “I work for them now, too?”

“Absolutely not. You work for me, and I advocated for you because you live with me in Kuraigana,” he relayed to you, “I refuse to have every Marine rat come to my door and attempt to collect your bounty each time I receive orders from the World Government.”

After taking a few moments to collect yourself, you ready the question Mihawk knew you would ask. Although he anticipated it, he truly could not prepare for the heartbreak depicted in your tone.

“What are you asking me to do?”

“You need to come home, immediately,” he whispered after taking a slow and steady breath, “Leave the Red-Hairs and come back home to me.”

The next question that fell from your lips almost broke him, the new warlord experiencing the greatest empathy for his oldest friend and closest confidant.

“Will I ever be permitted to see them again?”

The pause he produced had your breath stop, your heart beating heavier and heavier with each burst, “...it means no contact for at least five years.”

You could barely process the following information Mihawk was relaying to you, his voice attempting to produce further instructions of, “That includes calls, letters, physical contact. We will not see our niece again for quite some time.”

Your voice caught in your throat, your pulse beating heavy in your ears with a brutality you had not had since your first encounter with the fight, flight or freeze reaction.

“My dear, did you hear me?” the smooth drawl of Mihawk's voice broke you out of your rapidly panicking thoughts, your mind snapping back to you.

“I-I can't do that,” you stuttered, your eyes swelling with immediate grief, “I can't do that, Mihawk. Especially now, since-...” your voice trailed off, your eyes immediately falling to the closed door of your ship.

After a moment of silence, Mihawk clicked his tongue in shock, putting the pieces he feared together

“You're finally been in bed with Beckman, haven't you?” your stifled sob escaped your lips, prompting your right hand to clap over it. Soothing assurances poured from his honey-sweet tone.

“My dear, I'm so sorry,” his apology fell on deaf ears as your body already began to mourn the years to be lost to you. After taking a moment longer to dwell with your shattered heart, you hardened your stance and blinked back the rise of sorrow in your eyes.

“What would you have me do, my lord,” your cool tone depicting your cast aside emotions in each articulated syllable.

“Best to tell only Shanks, and leave him to relay what he wants to his crew,” he directed you, your body moving as automatically as it could to prepare yourself to receive your orders, “You need to come back before the spy network can draw a connection between us and them.”

You stepped into the bath, hastily ridding yourself of the prior night and morning shared in the arms of your lover and stepping out to dry yourself. Housing the chain of the plug out from your bath. In lieu of the sundress you had desired to wear for the day, you tugged on your old uniform: a hooded shawl, tanned pants and a lengthy shirt beneath a face shield that only showcased your eyes above it.

Before Mihawk ended the call, he advised you with a swift and steady articulation.

“You may do what you need to do to make it easier on yourself and your niece, but know,” he paused, inhaling a deep breath, “The longer you dwell with them, the more danger you put not only yourself, but Uta in. Goa kingdom hosts marines, pirates and bandits alike. If you're seen with them, the marines have been ordered to kill on sight.”

“Aye, sir,” you uttered in a voice darker than night. Mihawk uttered a final precaution to you, his sorrow almost depicted in itself, “Better to have them hate you than for them to chase you.”

Ending the transponder call, you finally had a moment to dwell in silence before deciding on what direction to take. As you looked at yourself in your vanity, it seemed as if one has already been made for you.

#one piece #x reader #benn beckman x reader #beckman x reader #op beckman #benn beckman smut #one piece x reader #one piece smut #f!reader #op x reader

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fandomtherapy44 · 8 months

Text

Klaus x reader

Summary: This story is from the perspective of Y/n Marshall the younger sister of Hayley Marshall. Side note I love Hayley one of my favorite characters. Basically Y/n will be pregnant instead of Hayley and I will be changing some things up but then that it should stay pretty close to the series. I hope you enjoy the story! Also, if you like I have a Castiel x reader.

Paring: Klaus x reader

Word count: 3,341

Warnings: Some language, Typical the Originals violence, Spoilers for season one of The Originals, Pregnancy,

I got the divder from

saradika

Chapter 1: Always and forever

POV: Y/n

New Orleans is the heart of Louisiana known for its live music, food, and apparently family history, well at least for my older sister and me. We came here to learn more about our parents but the few weeks we've been here nothing zilch but some tasty gumbo that lately I have had a strong hunger for. “Third time in here this week.” Jane-Anne said, placing down a steamy bowl of gumbo in front of me.“I'm obsessed with the gumbo, Jane-Anne.” I said to her grabbing my spoon and lifting a huge scoop into my mouth while my sister Haley was nursing a bourbon.

“You know, ladies in the 9th ward say my sister, Sophie, bleeds a piece of her soul into every dish.” She said referring to her sister who was cooking in the kitchen. “We’ve asked around the Quarter about my family......” Haley started to say. “And?” Jane-Anne questioned. “Nothing. Zero. we can't find a single person who remembers them.” I finished throwing my spoon back into the bowl. “Because Hayley, Y/n people like you were run out of here years ago.”

“What do you mean, people like us?” Jane-Anne walked around the bar to the other side to stand beside us. While Sophie watched us. Jane-Anne stetted a map on the bar. “In the bayou, they call the werewolves "Roux-Ga-Roux"”. She circled a point on the map. “You head out there, you'll find what you're looking for. Be careful. It's the last place you'd ever want to go.” Haley and I smile in hope that maybe we will finally find something. I order my gumbo to go, and we thank Jane-Anne and leave.

Haley and I are driving down the road and I'm giving directions while she drives. “Okay now take a left...” I said while looking down at the map not sounding very confident. “Y/n the map is upside down.” “Oh, he he I mean right.” She sighs as she hard turns right. “It’s like the mountains all over again.” “Hey, it was not my fault that the map was outdated.” “It was GPS N/n” “Well still the phone was-” As I started to talk, I suddenly started to feel sick. “Haley pull over now.” She pulled the car over and I jumped out puking out all my lunch. “Uhh what the Hell-” And there goes breakfast. “Maybe it’s all the gumbo that you ate when it’s been sitting in the car for two hours.” “Maybe it’s the gumbo y/n shut it, Haley. I was hungry… again.”

We finally arrive at the bayou and look at the map to figure out where we are. “So, we are here and-” As I held the map the paper got hot, and it became on fire. “What the-” I threw it out the window. Haley and I looked at each other like what the fuck. We start to reverse the car, but the engine starts to smoke, and it stops. “Are you kidding me?” We get out and I take out my phone. “Hey, I'm looking for a tow service?” I didn't even get a response before a loud ringing came from the phone and I threw it down and Haley heard it too and she smashed it with her boot. I didn’t even notice people around us. Haley and I start to get back-to-back. My vision starts to become blurry, and I passed out.“Y/n!”

I wake up gasping. “Y/n N/n you're okay.” “Hayley, where the Hell are we?” I said looking around the room and the walls were made of stone and there were lots of candles around. “In a tomb.” “Why are we in a tomb?” “Because the witches kidnapped us.” “Why would they kidnap us!?” I'm getting angry and I stand up. Sophie devereaux walks in with a bottle of water and a bowl of gumbo and places it in front of me. “If you think I'm eating anything you give me, you witches are crazier than I give you credit for!” I said as I kicked the bowl back.

“Please Y/n all this anger is not good for the baby.” “You are going to let my sister and I go or-” Hayley stopped. “Did you just say baby?” “Yes, I did, Y/n’s baby.” Wait what? “That’s impossible, I can't be pregnant.” “Well, congrats you are, with Klaus Mikaelson’s.” Fuck “So eat up your baby needs it.” With that she walked away. “Hey, you still haven't told us why we’re here!” Haley yelled at her behind the bars. She looked down at me, who was still in shock. “Klaus Mikealson what were you thinking N/n?” “I don’t know Hayley, I was drunk, and he looked really cute and we talked and one bottle of whiskey later I woke up in his bed.” “Now I'm pregnant and absolutely terrified.” I said as I started to cry. “Shh It’s okay It’s okay.” Hayley said while hugging and rocking me.

Sophie walks in. “Get up It’s time to meet your baby’s uncle.” Hayley and I look at each with confusion and follow her. We walk out to see a man standing there in a press suit and tie.” Who the hell are you?” I asked him. “Give us a moment, please.” The man asked Sophie. “Whoever you are, you aren't going to talk to my sister alone.” Hayley said with a fierceness that I hadn't seen since I was younger. “Hayley I'll be okay.” I said as the man, and I walked into the other room.

“So, have they been holding you here against your will?” Elijah asked me. “They lured my sister and I out to the bayou and grabbed me. And they did all these... weird witchy tests. Not that I understand how this could happen. I mean, vampires are dead. They can't have children!” He turns to me and holds his hands. “Perhaps if you knew my brother's story, it might explain how this is possible. Here, if I may.” “If you open your mind to me, I can show you.” I lean down my head and Elijah shows me.

“In the beginning, our family was human... A thousand years ago, now.” I started to see them as kids. “Although our mother dabbled in the dark arts, we were actually just a family trying to survive in a time when it was quite difficult to do so. And, for better or worse, we were happy.” “That is, however, until one night, our youngest brother was killed by our village's greatest threat.” I then saw Klaus carrying their youngest brother and he was dead. “Men that could transform themselves into wolves during the full moon. Our family was devastated, none more than Niklaus. Desperate to protect the rest of us, our father forced our mother to call upon her black magic in order to make us stronger.” I now see that their father was forcing them to drink the blood to turn them.

"Thus, the first vampires were born. But with this speed, this strength, this immortality, came a terrible hunger. No one felt this hunger more than Niklaus.” The scene was now Klaus killing a human for the first time and with that he was changing into a wolf. He didn’t know of his descent. His father chained him up as Elijah tried to help but he wouldn't allow it and kept on saying horrible things about Klaus. “He wasn't just a vampire.” “He was also a werewolf. That's how the werewolf curse works. It isn't activated until you take a life.” I concluded. “Niklaus was the result of an indiscretion our mother had hidden from us all. An affair with a werewolf like yourself.” I see another thing I did not want to, Klaus was being forced to bury his werewolf side. “Your dad was a massive dick.” I said and we kind of laughed about it.

“I'm Y/n Marshall, by the way. You should probably know my name if you're gonna tell me your whole life story. I mean, I know yours. Your family is legendary. Your brother is a notorious psycho... who I slept with.” “I cannot excuse his behavior, but you must understand, when our father hunted him – hunted us – for centuries, every time we found a moment of happiness, we were forced to flee. Even here, in New Orleans, where we were happiest of all. Not long after Niklaus broke the spell which prevented him from becoming a hybrid, he defeated our father. I thought this would make him happy. He was angrier than ever. I wonder if perhaps this baby might be a way for my brother to find happiness. A way to save him from himself.” When he finished, I grabbed at my stomach for the first time knowing that I was pregnant.

“I'm glad you feel that way, because we need your help.” It was Sophie. “What, precisely, is it that you want and what does it have to do with this young woman?” Elijah questioned and I wanted to know too. “We want to run Marcel and his vampires out of town. Klaus is the key. Everything Marcel knows about being a vampire, he learned from Klaus. Marcel trusts him, looks up to him, and he won't see the betrayal coming.”

“Yes, well, as I'm sure you're aware, my brother Niklaus doesn't like to be told what to do.” “That's why I brought you here. Marcel drove the werewolves out of town decades ago. Do you really think he's going to welcome a hybrid baby to the neighborhood? Convince Klaus to help us, and no one has to know about the newest member of the Original family.” “That sounds remarkably like blackmail.” “Like I said, I'm desperate.” “Well, then, I have my work cut out for me, don't I?” “I will be back with my brother.” And with that he walks away.

Hayley walked into the room a little worried. “Oh my gosh are you okay did he hurt you?” I smile at her. “I'm fine Hayley. I just feel a little bad.” “Do you need a bucket?” “No no I mean I just learned more about Klaus than I bargained for.”

We get called back into the front of the tomb and there standing is Klaus and he looks handsome as the morning I left his bed. “No. It's impossible.” He said pointing at me and its funny cause I said the same thing. “I said the same thing myself.” Elijah said. “This is a lie. You are all lying. Vampires cannot procreate.” I kind of wish it was a lie. “But werewolves can. Magic made you a vampire, but you were born a werewolf. You're the Original hybrid, the first of your kind. And this pregnancy is one of nature's loopholes.” Sophie explained.

“You've been with someone else, admit it!” Klaus yelled at me. “Hey, guess what buddy it’s impossible on my side too since I was a teen, I've been told I can’t get pregnant, so it is a hundred percent yours also my sister and I have spent days held captive in a freaking alligator bayou because they think that I'm carrying some magical miracle baby. Don't you think I would've fessed up if it wasn't yours?” I said getting closer, almost getting in his face because if anything I was not going to stand here and be accused of being with other guys when I know my own body. We stare at each other for second before Hayley pulls me back.

“My sister gave her life to perform the spell she needed to confirm this pregnancy. Because of Jane-Anne's sacrifice, the lives of this girl and her baby are now controlled by us. We can keep them safe. Or we can kill them. If you don't help us, take down Marcel, so help me, Y/n won't live long enough to see her first maternity dress.” “Excuse me what?” I said getting worried about what Sophie just said. “Enough of this. If you want Marcel dead, he's dead. I'll do it myself.” Elijah said, stepping up and I saw Hayley looking at him with a bit of admiration. “No. We can't, not yet. We have a clear plan that we need to follow, and there are rules.” Sophie said stopping Elijah. We looked at Klaus waiting for his response.

“How dare you command me, threaten me, with what you wrongfully perceive to be my weaknesses. This is a pathetic deception. I won't hear any more lies.” I forgot how egoistic he was. I guess that night was just a side of him that was a one-time thing. “Niklaus!... Listen.” Elijah yells at him and Klaus looks at me and then my stomach listening to our baby’s heartbeat I wonder what it was like. “Kill her and the baby. What do I care?” Klaus walked away with that sentence, and I almost lunged at him. “OH, HELL NO get back here you son of a bitch!” I get held back by Elijah gently this time. “No one touches the girl. I'll fix this.”

Sophie and this older witch, Agnes, are talking again about this Vampire Marcel and whoever he is, they don’t like him that much. “Marcel and his vampires are out of control. Something had to be done.” “And the solution is to bring in more vampires?” “What makes you think you can control the hybrid?” That’s a good question. It seems like to me Klaus won’t just sit down. “She can't. I'm not entirely certain that I can, either. But now that your coven has drawn his ire, I have a question: What prevents my brother from murdering you instead of cooperating?”

Elijah said, surprising as all. Then I'm surprised personally because Sophie takes out a needle and pricks herself, but I feel it too. “Ow! What the fu-” I said looking at my hand and it was bleeding in the same place that was bleeding on Sophie's hand. Hayley grabs my hand to look at it. “The spell my sister performed, the one that got her killed? It didn't just confirm the pregnancy. It linked me to Y/n. So, anything that happens to me, happens to her, which means her life is in my hands. Klaus may not care about his own child, but it's very clear what it already means to you. If I have to hurt Y/n – or worse – to ensure that I have your attention, I will.” What the hell so the witches are cool to kill people good to know. “You would dare threaten an Original?” “I have nothing to lose.” “Well, I do!” I said feeling like they were talking about me like I wasn't there. “You have until midnight to get Klaus to change his mind.”

“His time is up. What're you gonna do now, Sophie?” Agnes asked Sophie and I was very scared for her answer. “I'm gonna do what I said was gonna do” Shit “What, kill the girl? Kill yourself?” Sabine this other witch asked. “Klaus does not care about the child.” Agnes added in and it was making me pissed off that they were barning with our baby like this. “I do” It was Elijah, at least one brother of this crazy family cared. He came in carrying the body of Jane-Anne. “And I bring proof of my intent to help you: the body of your fallen friend, which I procured from Marcel himself.” “Jane-Anne. “

“May she be granted peace. Klaus will agree to your terms. I just need a little more time.” Elijah I could tell was a smart man and thank God for that. “You had your time. It's passed.” Agnes said to him, and I wanted to wolf out on her for that. “Shut up, Agnes.” Sabine added in which kind of surprised me I mean I wanted to say it, but I had a baby to look out for. “For now, accept the deal. The girl and the child and her sister remain unharmed, or Klaus will kill you all.” He went to go walk away again but turned back. “And I will help him.”

Elijah came back to collect us and brought us to a grand old white house that felt like it hadn't been inhabited in years, probably so. Hayley was exploring another part of the house while Elijah was showing me the nursery. I went to the crib and pulled off the sheet and about a hundred years of dust came off. Cough' cough. “Are you alright?” Elijah asked me. “Oh fine, there are a lot worse places to stay in then here.” “Yes, it should serve our purposes. It's a sanctuary from our business in the Quarter. Right now, you are the most important person in this family. You need a good home. So, I'm curious... in all this time, has anyone asked you how you feel? “Like usually about how I could have a one-night stand with someone who doesn't usually do that?” “About being a mother.”

“Hayley and I were abandoned when we were born and for the most part of our lives we were in different parts of the system and I-I when I activated my werewolf side I was kicked out and thought of as a monster. And I didn’t find Hayley until I was eighteen so I really don’t know how to feel about that because I never really had a mom to rely on.” I looked back at him and he looked like he had sympathy behind his eyes. “I will always protect you and your sister. You have my word on that.”

“And noble Elijah always keeps his word.” It was Klaus. “Is it done?” "As a matter of fact, yes. Your underhanded deal worked quite well. Marcel was only too happy to accept my blood even as he accepted my heartfelt apologies. His man, Thierry, yet lives and I remain a welcome guest in the French Quarter. My only concern now is this coven of impudent witches. "Great that’s just great “I believe them to be honorable. They did release Hayley and Y/n to me. Although, they haven't been entirely forthcoming. Marcel obviously has something that they need. They don't want him dead. There must be a reason why” I leave the brothers and go to talk to Hayley.

“Hey, how was talking to Elijah?” She asked me. “It was actually not that bad, it seems like he actually cares about us.” “Really?” “Really, which is good because it seems like you were checking him out.” “Yeah, well look at us both looking at the vampire brothers, we must really be sisters.” She finished with a smile and we both laughed.

I walked back into the nursery and just stood over the crib staring at it when I felt a presence behind me. It was Klaus. “Oh hey.” “Hello” He responded back. The thing was I didn’t know how to go beyond hellos. “Look I know this is super weird you probably didn't think you would ever see me again or think about me after our… time together I just wanted to say that I will stay out of your way.” I finished awkwardly. He walked closer to me. “Is it really mine?” “One hundred percent” We stare at each other for a second. But he backs away. “Right well If you just stay out of my way there won’t be a problem.” “Right.” He goes to walk out.

Hey Yall, I really hope you liked this new fanfiction I'm trying out. I love the Vampire Diaries universe, especially the Originals. And of course, Klaus, I can't wait to develop the relationship between Y/n and him. If you want to be tagged for this series, comment nicely and I'll put you down. And if you like supernatural, I have a Castiel x reader series too.

#klaus mikaelson #klaus x y/n #klaus x reader #tvd fanfiction #tvd klaus #elijah mikaelson #marcel gerard #hayley marshall #rebekah mikaelson #hope mikaelson #tvd universe #the originals #Y/n marshall

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rouxnen · 10 months

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Yknow, instead of cringing at your 15 year old self and saying how dumb they were maybe you should thank them for not giving up.

#this post is for me but listen anyways #shut up roux!

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ruggiethethuggie · 8 months

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R U G T O B E R || D A Y O N E

wc: 1801

You rubbed your eyes groggily as you made it down the steps. Having just rolled out of bed, your eyes were still struggling to adjust to the light coming in past the curtains on the window. Grim had pounced on you that morning, whining about someone being at the door. You kept telling him there was no way someone would be there so early, the sun had just come up. But you were mistaken.

As you made it off the last step, you could hear light mumbling coming from outside the door. Confused, you quietly approached the door and put your ear to it, trying to make out the muffled sounds. It was hard to really decipher what was actually being said, but it was easy to recognize to whom the voice belonged to.

You threw the door open to find Ruggie standing there on your doorstep, once again. “Ruggie.” Your tone was sullen, clearly from unwillingly being woken up so early. “Oh, turn that frown upside down, sunshine. It’s Rugtober, did you forget? I did tell you that I’d be here again super early.”

He stood there with his hands in his pockets, eyes bright and chipper as if he had been up for hours already. Did he ever take the time to really get in good sleep, or was he always a ‘go-go-go’ person? His outfit consisted of a dark gray shirt with the spell drive team’s logo, a mustard yellow plaid shirt overtop with the sleeves rolled and left unbuttoned, and a plain black pair of joggers and sneakers.

For waking you up so early, you decided to get him back a bit with teasing. “Are you already dressing up for Halloween? Gonna be a scarecrow this year?” You raised an eyebrow at him as he sucked his teeth at your words.

“Yeah,” he grabbed at the bottom hem of the plaid shirt, “this is my scarecrow outfit. You don’t like it?” He looked up at you, giving you sickeningly sweet eyes. It was difficult to not think it was adorable.

“So what is our plan for day 1 of Rugtober, Ruggie?” you asked.

“Two words. Pumpkin. Patch. Well, I guess four words. Also, get and dressed. Maybe six words. Hurry and up, oh seven, already!” He chuckled to himself as he counted on his fingers.

“Okay, okay, mister impatient. Give me like 5 minutes, I’ll be right back. I’ll even wear a flannel so you don’t become a lonely scarecrow today.”

“I’m touched,” he said, putting his hand over his heart. “I’ll be waiting here.”

You shut the door and ran back upstairs, scaring Grim and making him fall off the bed as you came back into your bedroom.

“WAHHHH!!” Grim hit the floor with a thud. “What’d’ya doing scaring me like that?! Who was that?” he asked, rubbing the top of his head.

“It was Ruggie. I have to get dressed, we’re going to a pumpkin patch today. And before you even ask- no you cannot come along.” You rummaged through your drawers and closet, quickly finding clothes to wear, not forgetting the flannel you said you’d wear.

“Hmph, like I wanna go anywhere with him anyway. He never shares his snacks with me,” Grim huffed and stuck his tongue out. His fake disinterest was amusing, you knew he probably really wanted to go, but this was something Ruggie invited you to- not you and Grim.

You finished getting dressed, walked over to him, and put your hand on his head gently, avoiding the spot where he bonked his head moments ago. “How about I bring you a small pumpkin back? Yeah? One you can decorate however you’d like?”

Grim’s ears perked up at your words and he smiled mischievously. “You better bring me back a good one, or you’ll roux the day and feel the wrath of the all powerful mage, Grim!”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you back into bed, o’ powerful one.” You picked him up, put him back on your bed, and watched as he snuggled back up into the covers. “I’ll be back later, be good.” Grim was already half asleep as you left the room and closed the door quietly before meeting Ruggie downstairs.

“Alright, let’s go.” You locked the door as you closed it. Ruggie nodded and turned on his heel, leading the way.

Going towards the town of Sage’s Island, you spotted an old wooden fence with a makeshift sign on it that read “Pumpkin Patch” with an arrow pointing down a small dirt path. Realistically, it seemed odd that a pumpkin patch would be out of the way like this, but you wouldn’t think Ruggie would lead you into danger- at least, not without forewarning you before.

“Why’s it so far out of the way? I feel like we’ve been walking for hours, Ruggie,” you groaned. “Well, if it was right by the road, then there wouldn’t be any room for that.”

You kept walking, staring at the sky above you and not paying attention to the stopped beastman in front of you, running into him and staggering back.

“OOF!” Ruggie said as he caught his balance and turned around and grabbed your hand. “Watch it, klutz,” he teased. “Oh, shut up,” you said as you used his hand to stabilize yourself and tried to reorient yourself. “Wouldn’t be any room for what?” you asked looking everywhere but where Ruggie had been talking about.

“For that.” Ruggie pointed up ahead to a small little hill. There were what looked like hundreds of pumpkins, but what was amazing, leaving you in awe, was the ginormous pumpkin that was in the middle of them all. “Holy shi-”

“Shh, shhh. Language,” Ruggie said, putting a finger to your lips. “Come on” He took your hand and pulled you up the hill, making sure you didn’t clumsily fall down it or run into him again.

The patch was full of many pumpkins, you knew it was going to be hard to find the right one, especially since you promised to get Grim one while you were here, too. The varying sizes and colors and shapes of them all could force someone to spend hours here just trying to find the pumpkin for them.

You could see a small house up higher on the hill with a sign on the front railing that said “Checkout here” on it. An elderly man waved at you and Ruggie from the porch, to which Ruggie shouted up to him. “HEY, MR. JOE! I THINK THIS ONE’S BIGGER THAN LAST YEAR’S!” Ruggie smiled widely as he pointed to the excessively large pumpkin.

Mr. Joe shouted back to him, but he was so far away and seemed so soft spoken that it was hard to make out what he said. Ruggie just waved off the words and turned to whisper to you. “He has no idea what I just said, and I have no idea what he just said.” You both chuckled as you started to look through the patch for your perfect pumpkins to take home.

A plump, orange pumpkin near a back fence caught your eye. It was the perfect roundness for making a jack-o-lantern and the orange was bright and vibrant. You walked over to it and tried to pull it off the vine when you felt a tapping on your shoulder. You glanced up to see Ruggie standing there with two pumpkins in his hands, looking almost upset.

“Ruggie? What’s wrong??” You stopped tugging on the vine to give him your full attention, it was rare to see him in such a state.

“Uh.. Uhm.. well..” he stammered.

“Spit it out already! WHAT, WHAT?!” You stood up and wiped your hands on your pants to get the dirt off.

“What… what do you get when you drop a pumpkin?”

“What do you get? Uh I don’t think you get anything, except a bill to probably pay for it,” you said confused.

“No… squash.”

The upset look on Ruggie’s face immediately changed to a cheeky grin as you rolled your eyes at his joke.

“Do you want me to get that one off the vine for you? Here, hold these.” He shoved the two pumpkins in your hands and knelt to the ground to get your pumpkin off the vine.

“Rug, why did you get two? Getting Leona one or something?”

“Oh, please, he doesn’t carve pumpkins. I figured your pet cat was wantin’ one so I got him a small one.” He traded pumpkins with you, handing you your one and taking his two back. “Yeah, he does want one. I was gonna look for him one next, but you did it for me. Thanks, Rugbert.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he snapped and leaned in close to you. “Don’t call me that in public.” You knew he was just joking with you, at least mostly. He really did hate being called that in public but there was no one around you two at the patch, and there was no way Mr. Joe could’ve heard the nickname anyway.

You two made your way up to the small house where Mr. Joe was to buy your pumpkins. “Welcome, Welcome!” the man said cheerily from his old rocking chair. “Find the ones y’ere looking for?”

“Yes, sir! Three pumpkins, good and ready. How much for these bad boys?” You held up your pumpkin when Ruggie showed his. Mr. Joe looked back and forth at them for a few moments before responding. “I’d say about 10.”

“Just 10? Feels like I’m robbin’ ya, old man,” Ruggie said as he handed the money to Mr. Joe. “I’ll be back next year, and that pumpkin out there- It better be as big as this house next time.” Ruggie and Mr. Joe chuckled. “O’heehee, you betcha it will be, my boy!”

“Take it easy, you know how to get me if you need me,” Ruggie said walking off the porch. “Err, it was nice meeting you, thank you for the pumpkins, Mr. Joe!” you spit out before tagging along behind Ruggie.

“You come here every year, Rug?”

“Sometimes more than once a year. The old fart’s too old to get house and yard work done, so I come by every now and then when he tells me he needs help and then he always gives me a lil discount when I buy pumpkins. One time I bought pumpkins for all the kids at Sunset Savanna and it only cos’ me like 100 thaumarks. Wild, right?”

“Yeah, that is wild. I bet he likes when you come around, seems lonely all the way out here if you ask me.”

Ruggie smiled and nodded at your words. “We better get you back before Grim starts causing a ruckus and setting the dorm on fire.”

#~.writing #~.twst #~.rugtober #ruggie bucchi #ruggie x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #disney twst #ruggie fluff #ruggie bucchi fluff #twst fluff #ruggie imagines #ruggie bucchi imagines #twst imagines

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milfhawks · 4 months

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😊😊😊❤️❤️❤️ heres what i have written so far.

warnings: very NSFW, omegaverse

Male omegas and female alphas are intersex

so omega mihawk was very sick as a child and this caused some unfortunate side effects when he got older, one such being he doesn’t get heats and another being that he is infertile. mihawk is at the time nonchalant about that particular fact, but as life continues he thinks on it more, on carrying a child, growing a life within him, who many consider a harbinger of death. a demon only capable of destruction and chaos. carrying a child with which he can live a peaceful life, a child he can raise and teach. a legacy, wether it be a master swordsman, or a simple farmer, this child would be something tangible he could leave behind.

a child that would never be in a future now impossible. mihawk is devastated.

years go on and rivals are found and friendships and more blossom afterwards.

one day as mihawk is going about his business he idk stops a bandit or something that was terrorizing some civilians and annoying him, hes got a migrane going on so when on of the civilians offers to cure the migrane with their devil fruit powers! it works and mihawk continues his life.

until the week after when he is out sailing amd he starts to feel hot, and bothered.

he figures hes just really horny right now so he quickly and efficiently-almost cold in its roboticness- jerks his dick to get off. it wasn’t till after he finished for the third time, and his neglected pussy drenching the seat under him, that he realized what was going on.

He was in Heat.

He needed to get to the Red Force quickly, before Higitsubune gets so soaked not even sailing through Water 7’s infamous Aqua Lagoona will get it clean.

The watchman in the crowsnest calls down the news of spotting Higitsubune, though it seems to just be drifting which is rather odd.

Shanks orders the appoach with a calm tone, yet he is rather puzzled and worried as usually mihawk actually sneaks up on the red force when he visits so spotting him first is unusual. when the red force pulls up to the smaller ship, mihawk is not in his seat or standing throwing lines to secure, instead he seems to be huddled behind his seat, wedged between it and the mast. shanks, extremely worried now, starts climbing down to the raft with lime juice the ship’s doctor organizing his medical bag in preparation up at the railing.

when shanks touches down on the small boat, he’s hit with the heavy scent of lavender, wine and sex.

he covers his nose with his shirt, he needs to keep a clear head, and cautiously approached mihawk. when he rounds the seat and lays eyes on him, he has to bite down on his hand to keep from getting down on his knees and taking him right there with the whole crew watching.

mihawk is sitting with his legs out before him, his pants are open and he has his dick in his hand and fingers in his pussy.

shanks can see that the wood of the boat directly underneath mihawk is wet.

he calls for a seat to be winched down and calls up to have water and clean cloths delivered to his cabin.

shanks manages to climb back up right after mihawk is lifted over the edge of the railing and as he hustles him to his room he tells lucky roux (perhaps a bit louder than he would normally to cover up the delicious moans coming from the omega plastered to his side) to bring some water and food in an hour or so.

“Alpha~” mihawk moans as shanks pulls him into his cabin. Shanks shuts the door and presses his thigh to mihawks crotch. Mihawk throws his head back and lets out the loudest moan shanks has ever heard him make, loud enough ghat he can be heard through the door.

“Hawkeyes what is going on? Were you hit with a devil fruit? drugged? what’s happening?”

mihawk wraps his arms around shanks’ neck, gripping tight to his shirt. “Healing- devil fruit-“ he grunts out between whines and moans, “Heat~” he whines

YEEEEEEEEEEESSS I LOVE THIS SO MUCH you are absolutely GODLY for delivering this absolute gem to me and i’m eternally grateful 🫶🏻

mihawk suffering emotionally thinking he’ll never have a child makes me want to cry like his tenderness when he thinks about them, how he’d love them no matter the path they take… only for them to not be possible for him to bear. that mental image actually broke my heart.

i’m heart is swelling with happiness bc he’s been healed, he can have a child now, like he wanted… i’m emotional asf don’t mind me

and the image of him pleasuring himself so desperately, trying to handle the heat he’s never experienced before… moaning so loudly, his body not used it… shanks being close to snapping and fucking him then and there is so unbelievably hot too i’m soooo weak for shanks losing his control

i absolutely LOVE this and i’m sorry it took me a while to reply, i just needed to sort my feelings and words and give a reply worth of this. it’s SO SO SO good

thank you so much for sharing this i’m so grateful and excited i got to read it 💗

#asks #work of art #mishanks #mihawk #shanks #dracule mihawk #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #one piece

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obsidiancreates · 10 months

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Taishen's Guide On Being The Best Uncle You Can Be

(Somehow I hit exactly 1,400 words for this. I just wanted to say that because that is a damn satisfying wordcount.)

It takes just about a year after traveling with Gricko and Frost for Gideon to start being called "Uncle Gideon" whenever Gricko mentions him to Hootsie.

"He sure warmed up to us quick," Kremy had said one night, sitting by the campfire and keeping an eye on his roux. "Callin' us family already seems a little much, don't it, Gid?"

"Yeah, but he's a fuckin' weird little guy. Not really surprisin'."

"True."

Truth be told, Gideon doesn't mind it. He thinks Kremy doesn't mind the "Uncle Kremy" title either, because there's always just enough room in the budget to buy Hootsie a trinket, or snack, or new little hat. And sometimes Gideon decides not to go back for thirds of whatever Kremy cooks so Hootsie can have seconds, and sometimes Gideon doesn't even need to hold back because Kremy sets aside extra just for her.

The first time Gideon accepts it aloud, though, is when they're staying in a little inn, and Hootsie is dancing just for fun in the tavern area, and someone throws a tankard at her and calls for the "wild beast" to be thrown out.

The man finds himself thrown out, his throwing arm broken, and the shout of "That's my fuckin' niece, asshole!" haunting his drunken dreams.

"That was very violent, Gideon," Gricko says later as they're all prepping the single room they could get. Hootsie is curled up in the corner, a little rattled still, but Gricko already has his pack set out and is making up a little bed for both of them where she lays. Gricko's tone is scolding, but he mouths "Good job," when he knows Hootsie can't see it.

"People shouldn't be throwin' things at her," Gideon says with a shrug, fluffing up his thin-as-paper pillow as much as he can. "She's just a baby."

"Your little baby niece," Gricko says with a wide grin. "Isn't that right, Hootsie? You've got big strong Uncle Gideon to protect you!"

Hootsie looks up at Gideon with those giant round eyes and hoots. Maybe Gideon's starting to catch some of Gricko's strange brand of cookoo-bananas, but Gideon could swear she looks and sounds grateful.

"Yeah yeah, I'm Uncle Gideon, we all heard me say it." Gideon gets into the bigger bed in the room as Kremy and Frost play a game of cards to determine who gets the other one (card counting versus slight-of-hand cheating, mind-reading versus shadow magic, it's tough to know who'll win) and shuts his eyes. The sounds of shuffling cards, Gricko telling Hootsie a bedtime story, and the bed likely splintering beneath Gideon's own weight lull him to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gideon walks into a tea shop. He doesn't really drink tea, that's more Frost's thing, but he's here anyway.

He doesn't question it, as is the nature of dreams.

"Finally!" an excited voice rings out in the empty shop as Gideon finds himself sat down at a counter. The golden dragonborn on the other side grins brightly at him as he pushes a cup of fresh tea forward. "I've been waiting so long for you to finally realize you're an uncle!"

"Uh... what?" Gideon takes a sip of the tea. It's actually not bad. He didn't know tea could be spicy.

"That little owlbear has a lot of support, but that doesn't mean you can take being her uncle any less seriously." The dragonborn gestures at an ink painting hanging on the wall, of himself and a younger dragonborn girl. "Mei Li taught me just how important this role truly is, and I'm going to help you be the best possible uncle you can be."

"Hey man, listen. I appreciate the fuckin' thought and all, but, I don't know who the hell you are!"

"You won't remember once you wake up anyway," the dragonborn says, pouring himself a cup of tea and pulling a stool over to his side of the counter. "We've talked a few times, actually. But those were usually extremely upsetting times, and now we finally have something to celebrate!"

"Celebrate with tea?"

"I know you prefer alcohol, but if I can get Skrimm to enjoy tea I can get you to enjoy it as well."

"Well, I dunno why I'd need any advice on bein' an uncle, 'cause it seems pretty fuckin' easy t'me." Gideon knocks the rest of his tea back. The cup is full when he sets it down. "Give her treats, buy her stuff when she wants it, and punch guys who're fuckin' dicks to her."

"Those are all part of it," the dragonborn agrees, "But there's more to it than just spoiling her and protecting her. You have to nurture her as well!"

"I mean, Gricko's her dad, he's the one who's doin' all the raisin' and stuff."

"If you all lived in a town, that might work out just fine. But you're always on the move! You're the only four constants in this young girl's life, so you're all very influential on her as she grows!"

"Aw, man. I gotta be a good fuckin' influence now? I just got outta havin' to watch my every fuckin' move all the time, man."

The dragonborn seems to deflate, suddenly growing weary and ancient. "I'm... very aware. But I promise it's nothing like that. I just mean that Hootsie is an impressionable little girl right now, and it's a good idea to teach her important, valuable lessons."

"... Like... if somebody's bein' a fuckin' dick, she can bite their fingers off?"

"Well, I don't know if I'd encourage it to be that extreme, but self-defense is a good lesson, yes! And self-respect, it's much easier to defend yourself when you respect yourself and your value."

"Okay... I think I get it. And uh... knowin' when somebody's talkin' a load of bullshit."

"Exactly! Not to insult anyone but, you and I both know that Gricko can be... quite gullible. I mean, I understand him, I was very much the same way for most of my life, and can still be now. Oh, I remember Skrimm told me that a certain gesture was a universal greeting-"

"Which one? This one?" Gideon flips him off.

"That's the one! He always managed to find me when no-one else was around and pull pranks on me like that." The dragonborn laughs a little, fond. "Oh-ho, when it was a matter of life or death I was truly distressed, but now it's easy to look back and laugh."

"Alright, so, make sure she knows she can bite people, make sure she knows when she's bein' tricked, and I guess... make sure she knows how to get outta tough situations!"

"That's another great idea!"

"Man, I knew this whole uncle thing'd be easy." Gideon knocks the tea back again and looks around the shop. There's lots of ink paintings like the one he saw before, with these two dragonborn enjoying life. One catches his eye, of the man who sits across from him letting the young girl ride around on his shoulders.

"That'll be easy too," Gideon says, gesturing at the painting with cup in hand and sloshing spicy tea all over the floor- or would, if it ever hit the floor, but the tea just ceases to exist before it makes an impact. "Fuckin' piggyback rides and life lessons, easy as hell."

"And best of all, rewarding. It's an incredible joy to care for a child, as much as it is a serious responsibility." The dragonborn looks around. "And if you see Yorgrim when you leave here, let him know about the piggyback rides you plan to give. I think he'll appreciate a little warning."

"Who?"

"You're right, I'll tell him. I think you're waking up now anyway."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gideon picks Hootsie up and plops her onto his shoulders as the group exits the inn and gets going. Hootsie gives a startled hoot at first, and then looks down. Her face lights up, eyes ghetting as big as possible, and she gives another, more excited hoot as he leans over to watch everything from her new height!

Taishen sighs happily as he watches, and looks up at Yorgrim. "Does that help soothe some of your old wounds?"

Yorgrim huffs a little. "It's... bittersweet."

Taishen reaches up and pats Yorgrim's arm. "I understand. ... Tea?"

Yorgrim is quiet for a moment before sighing and holding his hand out. "Thank you."

"Of course, my friend."

#legends of avantris #once upon a witchlight #icebound #gideon coal #taishen fireblossom #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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highqueenofelfhame · 1 year

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who am i posting two drabbles in the same week??

rowaelin // 2709 words // masterlist

It was always easy to tell if Rowan had a good or bad day at work.

When it was good, he would sweep in and drop a kiss to Roux’s chubby cheeks if she was awake. If she wasn’t, he would disappear upstairs to check in on her before coming back down and getting a rundown of the day from Aelin. Sometimes she would heat up leftovers from dinner for him to eat, others they would sit and finish whatever movie held her attention before she slipped out and retired to her home in the renovated pool house for the night.

When it was bad, the signs started as soon as he pulled into the driveway. The lights would flash through the window, the garage would open, close, and then… silence. It could be anywhere from five minutes to an hour before he would get out of his car, slowly push the door shut, and quietly trudge in through the mud room. Aelin would barely hear him put down his keys and bag by the door. His footsteps up to Roux’s room were nearly nonexistent if it weren’t for the creaking of that fourth step from the bottom.

Sometimes he would get into the tiny twin sized bed with his daughter and fall asleep shielding her with his body. Other times he would sit with her while he decompressed before coming down to check in with Aelin on how the night went. On the bad nights, he seldom ate anything at all. He just went through the motions of getting ready for bed until he inevitably passed out from whatever hours-long surgery he’d endured that day.

Tonight was no different. Aelin tried not to count the ticks of the clock above the fireplace while she watched tv, her stomach twisting with anxiety at the ninety-two minute mark. An hour and a half was almost the longest he had ever stayed in his car like that. She knew it was turned off, so there was no need to worry about fumes. It was just the idea of him sitting in the dark silence while trying to unravel the tragedy of the day that was eating at her.

The last time this happened, a young girl about Roux’s age had died on his operating table. It wasn’t anything he had done wrong, no. The little girl had just been too badly injured in the car accident. Everyone knew it was a long shot to save her. She’d barely had a pulse when they wheeled her into the operating room, her heart having stopped twice in the ambulance on the way over.

It wasn’t a story she had learned from Rowan himself, but from one of his closest friends at a barbeque for Roux’s fifth birthday a few weeks back. Aelin’s heart had broken as he quietly recounted the nightmare to Aelin where Rowan couldn’t hear, the two of them sipping their beers while keeping an eye on the father to make sure he didn’t get close enough to hear. It had ended with Aelin needing to turn away to wipe away a few stray tears before anyone noticed, and Fenrys gave her a brief hug. The pair had been busted then, Rowan’s eyes narrowing slightly at the blonde man beside her. Caught red handed learning a story he didn’t want to speak of, she had thought.

There had been a few other times since then that he’d taken his moment of silence, but nothing this long since that had happened. It had Aelin’s mind reeling with what might have gone wrong, her body itching to make her way to the garage to check on him and make sure he was okay. But there was a line there that she didn’t want to cross. She didn’t want to intrude on whatever process he underwent to come down after a hard day.

But her eyes didn’t leave the garage door, her body turned so she could see his face when he came in. As much as he needed to be sure that Roux was okay when he had shitty days like today surely was, Aelin needed to make sure that he was okay, too. For a thousand and one different reasons, she ignored why that was. She was his nanny, he was her boss, and she was only worried because she cared for him in the way that all nannies cared about the families they worked for that treated them well. Right?

The movie she’d paused was long forgotten, the brand of the television bouncing from side to side on an idle screen. It was another three agonizingly slow minutes before the garage door opened, the scrape of the sill against the floor as deafening as it was startling. And then there was the look on his face.

Much like a couple months ago, his face was hewn from stone. Even from here she could see the signs that tears had slipped past the iron clad dam he usually had on his emotions. Red cheeks, slightly puffy under eyes. His nose had been kissed by grief, raw from how many times she assumed he’d blown or wiped at it with a tissue or his sleeve. The usually straight posture he had was deflated with shoulders that slumped inward.

The one thing different about this than the others was that he had immediately zoned into where she sat on the couch, his eyes roving over her face and what he could see of her body. Almost like this time it was her that he was checking on, that he needed to know was okay.

Aelin opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a single finger before making his way upstairs. When he was halfway up, he looked at her over his shoulder one more time before she would disappear from his view.

The soft jiggle of Roux’s door handle being turned was her cue to rise from the couch. Her feet carried her to the kitchen where she immediately started a kettle for some tea and then began pulling the night’s dinner from the fridge to warm him a plate. If he didn’t come back down, it would be there when he did. Worst case scenario, she would just force him to eat breakfast in the morning even if it meant waking him from a dead sleep.

Fifteen minutes hadn’t passed when she heard that creaky step announce his descent. Aelin stayed quiet in the kitchen, readying two mugs on the island for tea while the microwave hummed a quiet song behind her. If she wasn’t always so acutely aware of Rowan Whitethorn, she probably wouldn’t have heard his bare feet as he made his way into the kitchen. Still, she said nothing in case he didn’t want to talk and simply proceeded to make his tea precisely how he liked it.

As she placed the kettle down on a dishrag, Rowan’s arms braced either side of her, locking her in place where she stood. He was so close that his chest was pressed against her back. Even through their shirts she could feel the heat radiating off his body, off his biceps that rested against her shoulders. And then his forehead was gently resting against the back of her head while he took a deep breath, almost like he was… savoring the way she smelled. Like she hadn’t been wrong when he first walked in and she was the one he’d needed to know was safe.

Instead of freezing up like her body wanted to, she kept up the task of making the tea. Or trying to, anyway. The few times she had been this close to Rowan had always resulted in her brain short circuiting, and more than anything she was trying to not make a mess of the boiling water and the glass cups she handled with shaking hands.

“I made you tea,” she whispered, pushing the cups toward the side of the counter with the barstools.

“Thank you.” More-so than usual, Rowan’s voice was low and gravely. Another tell that at some point he had almost definitely been crying. The only other time he sounded like that was first thing in the morning or the few times she’d been around him when he was drunk and exhausted, accent heavier than usual and voice so low it gave her goosebumps.

Instead of replying she just nodded slightly so as to not disturb him. He simply kept breathing in the scent of her lavender shampoo, each exhale tickling the back of her neck and shooting small zips of electricity down her spine. The microwave beeped three times to proudly alert that his dinner was finished, but neither of them moved to deal with it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Moving her gaze from the tea, she looked down at his hands. His knuckles went white at the question and he inhaled deeply one more time before turning her so she was facing him.

Their faces were so close that she could count the small smattering of freckles he had across his nose from summers spent in the sun. The rich green of his eyes were more prominent than she’d ever seen them, the color enhanced by the vessels that were bloodshot. Gold and brown and every shade of green she could name was swirled in his irises. They weren’t just green anymore than hers were just blue.

“I lost a patient today.” His words weighed heavily between them despite being barely more than the minty breath across her face.

“I know.” Rowan nodded once, his fingers ghosting over her hip. For several heartbeats she watched his hands almost touch her, graze her skin, and pull back into fists before starting the process over again. Like he was fighting himself not to touch her even though he wanted– or needed– to.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, looking up at him through thick lashes. “You can– it’s okay.”

Consent seemed to be the key. Rowan was tender as he gathered her up in his arms, treating her like she was one of those cups behind them that might break if handled too roughly. Knowing he needed some sort of physical affection, she melted into him easily. That thing that had been brewing between them, that she had convinced herself was all in her head, was now a wire pulled taught as she pressed her cheek against his chest.

Rowan let out a shaky breath, his lips pressing to the top of her head in a lingering kiss. Her own arms wrapped around his sides, hands sliding over the muscles of his back before meeting in the middle. With feather light touches, she traced invisible shapes and lines with her fingernails over the fabric of his t-shirt. One of his hands cradled the back of her head with his thumb making soft soothing strokes over the side of her neck. The other was splayed across her back to keep her tightly pressed to him.

She didn’t have any complaints. He was freshly showered– likely using the facilities at work– and smelled like pine and snow and so distinctly Rowan. Aelin wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but the way he smelled was quickly becoming one of her favorite things in the world. And even if this was all only in her head, she would take this small gift from the gods and run like hell with it.

The cocoon of his arms shifted around her and he pulled back enough to look at her face. His fingers slipped between the silky strands of her hair until they rested in the little dip at the base of her skull with his thumb on her jaw. So much emotion swirled in his eyes as she looked up at him, not knowing what was going to come next. Her heart pounded like a timpani all the same.

“The woman that died on my table tonight shared a birthday with you.” Aelin noticed the way his throat bobbed as his thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. His brows were furrowed, his muscles tight beneath her fingertips. “I didn’t know that until after, but… her hair was almost the same golden hue. Her eyes were blue. Not like yours, nobody has eyes like yours. But they were still blue. And in the brief second I saw her barely conscious before she was put under, from across the room they looked close enough.”

“Rowan–”

“I couldn’t save her. I tried but I couldn’t save her and all I could see was you on the table.”

“I’m right here,” was the only thing she could think to say. It seemed to be just enough because he nodded, leaning forward to rest his brow against hers. Their breath mingled between them, his eyes falling closed as he steadied his ragged breathing. Aelin was almost positive she could feel his heart thundering away in his chest– or maybe that was her own pulse she felt down to her fingers.

Rowan’s eyes opened once more to search hers, his calloused thumb catching her full bottom lip as he said, “I think it’s about time we stop dancing around this, yeah?”

“Not like this,” she whispered, the words falling like stones between them. His head lifted, eyebrows pinched together. “I don’t– I don’t mean no. I don’t–” Aelin let out a shaky laugh and moved her hands to his sides. Rowan didn’t move away, which was good considering the bang up job she was doing with words at the moment.

“You think this is just a grief response.”

“I think you’ve had a really long and hard day and I don’t want you to do or say something you’re going to regret tomorrow–”

“I could never regret you, Aelin.”

And then his lips were pressing softly against hers, asking permission where she didn’t feel like she ever needed to give it in the first place. For months she had known that she was his, however he wanted to have her. That she had desperately wanted it to be this but never would have pushed without him giving in.

So she kissed him back fiercely, relishing in the way his hand tightened on her hips but softened where he held her face. She breathed every second of the moment in, the same way she had all the others. It had been months of push and pull, of subtle touches and words with double meanings. Rowan and Roux were everything that she wanted for her future. She just couldn’t believe he wanted her to be part of theirs.

They kissed until the tea had cooled and his dinner was cold. What he had been hungry for wasn’t food, she found out, when he carried her all the way up to his room and quietly shut the door behind him. He had been starving for her, to feel his hands over her soft skin, to feel her nails leaving marks across his back. Rowan swallowed up her moans as quickly as she released them from swollen lips and chased her own release with his own.

They both drifted to sleep like tangled vines. When she was the first to wake just after the sun came up– her biological clock alerting her that Roux would be up and wanting breakfast soon– anxiety had begun to pool in her stomach. What if he did regret last night? If it had all been the result of grief and him needing a warm body to coax him into a dreamless sleep? He was her boss, and she loved Roux more than any of the kids she had ever nannied for. What if she had just thrown that all away on a whim?

Her mind was reeling as she laid beside him. Back and forth she went about whether or not she should quietly leave, and just as she decided that she maybe should, Rowan began to stir from his deep slumber. His arm tightened around her waist, tugging her closer as he rubbed his nose against her shoulder. A laugh almost escaped her lips, but worry had an iron-clad grip on her nerves.

It all vanished, though, when he opened his eyes and saw her next to him. Because the moment his sleepy eyes met hers, Rowan smiled.

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