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vacayisland · 6 months

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LAST BUT NOT LEAST

Floyd x Motherly! Reader

Species and gender your choice- I’m just seeing reader is sweet, calm, mature. Calls everyone baby- always helpful. Maybe Floyd and reader are already dating? And reader calls Floyd the most embarrassing nicknames(sugarplum), number one fan-maybe some mortica vibes? Idk! You have fun with this one

@!; oh, Oh... Floyd / Motherly! Reader

"Summary"! Floyd loves you for many reasons, too many to count on his fingers or toes; too many to remember in one sitting when he's asked that simply question 'what do you love above them?'; too many to make a list of that won't expand pages and pages. Yet, he knows what he loves the most about you; you complete him in the best ways possible. "Tags"! say it with me... fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!, not proof read either :(

@!; Floyd knew you before he got captured by Veneer and Velvet. He knew you from his travels around the world in an attempt to find himself after the group broke up. He actually found you in Lonesome Flats, despite not being a country troll (or maybe you were), leaning against the window inside a western building. You had been talking to Delta with such a bright smile, Floyd couldn't help but slow down his walk to stare at it; noticing to dimples on your cheeks, the way your eyes lit up as you spoke, and the passion in your voice. It was intoxicating. It drew him in. So hesitantly, he kept his distance but kept near your little building. He didn't mean to ease drop, yet he overheard your conversation: "So, anyone catch ya' eye yet, sweetheart?" Delta's country twang was more noticeable every time she decided to tease you about this subject. You knew she only wanted to see a reaction out of you. Though you couldn't help but smile at her, wafting off the scent of a plum pie you had just finished. "No, not yet, Ma'am." Your voice was soft, a subtle hum to it that Floyd had caught. It made him choke up a bit, though he tried not to focus on that feeling. "Aw, come on, pickin's ain't that slim." Delta chuckled as she crossed her arms, grinning back at you. "And I know many fine Trolls who wouldn't waste takin' you out for dinner... and maybe some wilder ones who would take ya to a rodeo show."

And she winked, causing you to shake your head as you maintained your smile and composure. Despite being teased, Floyd could only describe you as calm and relaxed. Your shoulders weren't stiffened and you didn't crinkle your nose at anything Delta said; it was like her words didn't effect you, yet you were listening intently and responding to her accordingly. "Oh, yes Ma'am. I know that." As you softly laughed at Delta's attempted, you tested the pie's temperature and deemed it cool enough to cut. You took your knife and began to slice the pie into 12 even pieces. "Then let me set ya' up with someone!- Thank you, darlin'." You handed Delta a slice of pie as she spoke, knowing plum was her favorite. Quickly, you searched for a fork and then handed that to her too. She continued, "A pretty gal such as yourself shouldn't have to be kept waitin', though you do deserve your perfect someone." Oh, so you were a baker? Floyd noted that to himself, noticing that the pie that Delta was munching on as you spoke seemed to have some personal touches. Such as some honey baked into the plums, the crust being a little more golden than pies in the Pop Troll village, as well as some sugar that had crystalized at the top. It looked delicious... and it made his stomach growl. Floyd didn't think his stomach actually growled, he didn't catch it. Thus he was both startled and confused when you turned your attention over to him, your soft eyes matching the soft nature you carried yourself. "Are ya' hungry?" Floyd covered his stomach with his arm, a bit self conscious as you called him out. But he didn't feel called out; in an odd way he felt seen. Delta soon turned her attention over to Floyd while taking a bite of the pie. She held up the plate with a grin, "Come on, don't be shy, bumpkin'! Our Miss (Y/N) is the best baker in town and you won't find talent like this; She's like a needle in a hay stack, she is." "Oh, um.. okay." Floyd walked over to the window, noticing how your grin grew slightly larger and your eyes seemed to catch this sparkle in them. You grabbed him a plate, a slice of pie, and a fork almost instantly and placed it on your window ceil for him. "Here ya' go!" Service with a smile. Yet Floyd patted his pockets, and even dug around in them, for something to give you in exchange for the generous slice of pie. He fell short, "Oh- um, I don't have anything-" "Oh don't worry about payment, sugarplum!" Your words caught Floyd off guard, his round eyes shot up to meet yours. "Baking is just a hobby, I don't ask for anything in return; well, other than friends with full bellies and big grins. Seeing people enjoying my baking is enough payment for me." Floyd had kind of believed in love at first sight; but he didn't realize it actually could happen.

@!; Sometime after Floyd first meeting you and before he got captured, Floyd had confessed his feelings to you. Confessed that he had loved you since he saw you that first day when you gave him a plum pie. Confessed that he adored everything about you; he adored your laugh and your smile; he adored the way you worried about him, but not in an overpowering way, the way you always were there for him, the way that he could come back to you at the end of the day and you will be waiting with open arms. He adored the way you mothered him a little. Not in the way a mother would actually mother their children, yet in the way you were so caring and compassionate, while being sensible and calm made his heart beat out of his chest. You were perfect in every way, shape, and form. He loved you so much it hurt him more to imagine what you were going through when he had gotten captured by Velvet and Veneer. It was complete anguish to think about you sitting on the couch by the door in the little home you two made, waiting for him to only go on days without anything to report. It choked him up to think he could be the reason you were hurting at this moment. But he just hoped you could wait a little longer, hold out a little more, (you always had managed to, though it burns him to think to ask this of you) for him; and he will take everything just to be able to return back home to you again at the end of the day. One day. one day. Until that day, please.. please hold out. Please don't cry like he is.

@!; The day that Floyd was rescued by his brothers, and Poppy and Viva, after the initial shock wore off his first and only thought was you. It filled his head and he couldn't ignored the thoughts that piled up because everything in his body was screaming for you. For your touch and comfort and he couldn't help but blurt out, "We need to go to Lonesome Flats. Now!" Which got a lot of weird looks from his brothers; mainly Clay, Spruce, and JD looking around wondering what and where 'Lonesome Flats' was while Branch was just plain confused, maybe even a little hurt. Floyd didn't mean to hurt Branch, or any of his brothers by this request, but he needed to make sure you knew he was okay. "The country troll region?" Poppy questioned as she walked over to Branch's side. She tilted her head to the side, "Why do you need to go there?" "Yeah! Why do you need to go there? We just got you back, Floyd." Branch seemed stand-offish by this request, crossing his arms and scrunching his nose a little. Floyd understood where Branch was coming from, he did almost just die in front of all his brothers, but surely they would understand? "Please, just trust me. I.. I need to get back there." Floyd pleaded with his brothers, "I'll explain everything there or on the way. We just- we need to go now! The sooner the better.." And despite everyone's confusion, and unsureness about this all, it was a family road trip to Lonesome Flats. Where, when they finally arrived, Floyd rushed out of the van towards your little bakery. He slowed a bit seeing the window shut and your door not propped open. His eyes widened when he read the sign attached: Closed. But it was your usual opening time, what.. where were you? "There ya' are!" Floyd wiped around hearing Delta's voice. He didn't catch her unfriendly tone at first, though registered it as soon as he caught her face. Still, that didn't stop him, "Delta! Where is (Y/N)?" "More important, where have you been? You've been gone longer than our grazin' cattle, and they returned a month ago!" Delta crossed her arms and let out a huff of annoyance. "You've got your poor-" Though Delta didn't make it far before Floyd saw an all too familiar person out of the corner of his eye. You always managed to steal his attention, and his brothers were even more confused upon seeing Floyd rush over to you; despite stumbling a little bit on his starting sprint due to the lack of energy he has. "Floyd!" Branch called after his brother, just wanting him to be careful. Yet he froze upon feeling Poppy's hand on his shoulder, hearing a small 'aww' escape her lips as she watched Floyd literally jump into your arms. You had noticed him as he ran towards you, and despite carrying a bucket of fresh milk, you dropped it quickly to catch him. Which, was a good idea, since you didn't expect him to cause you to stumble a little. Even so, you laughed as Floyd hid his face in your shoulder feeling your arms tightly hug him. Your hugs were always warm, best described as momma bear hugs. Floyd had missed them and you. He had missed your warmth and your laugh.

"Oh Sugarplum, what happened?" And he missed your gentle nature and calm tone, despite everything he probably put you through after he left. You were gentle as you placed your hands on his shoulders and backed him up a little, so you were looking at each other eye to eye. Floyd couldn't even get a word out before you noticed everything different about him, "Oh my dear.. you look tired! Skinner, and your hair-! Oh my lord, what in the Trollstice happened to your hair, Sugarplum?!" Floyd now had his back facing you, as you had spun him around. Oh, Floyd could just melt at this moment, feeling your hands run through his hair as you took in all the whites that now mingled with the hot pink. He knew you were more used to his darker roots, and not like these whites were natural but he thought they suited him a little more now. Though, just as Floyd was about to answer you, he caught sight of his brothers and the plus ones. And at that moment, wide wide, he knew he had a lot of explaining to do to his brothers...

@!; It wasn't like Floyd was embarrassed of you, far from it, yet when you had him up and about dancing to Brozone.. it caused his cheeks to flush; from both embarrassment and lovingly. It had been a few months after he introduced you to the family, and he was glad his brothers had taken to you like he did and accepted you into the family. Branch was a little on the nose, but he came around.

Now, after a Brozone featured show, the both of you were dancing like crazy people to an old Brozone soundtrack in Poppy's pod. Poppy was trying to get Branch to dance with her while Clay was trying not to give into Viva's silliness.

Bruce was sitting on some chairs with JD, chatting and making fun of the younger brothers; as it was their bug brother duty to.

"Are you tired yet, sugarplum?" JD snickered as he called over to Floyd and you, his hand cupped to the side of his mouth to allow his voice to carry over the record player. Floyd grumbled a little at his brother's antics and tried to chuckle it off, maybe even shoot something back.

Yet he didn't even have to!- "What's wrong with me calling him Sugarplum, John?" Oh. Poppy paused in her pursuit and glanced over to JD with pressed lips and wide eyes, a silent question of what did he just do?

Clay and Branch both seemed to stop as well, Viva being soon to follow. Since meeting, you had never called anyone by their name. It had always been some cute nickname, such as baby or love or princess. Something motherly that made people's hearts warm upon hearing the nickname roll off your tongue with such affection and ease.

Even Floyd has barely ever heard you call anyone by their first name, that was unless they were in trouble. He decided to turn down the record player a little, just so you didn't have to talk over the music.

"Nothing!-" JD put up his hands at once, "It's just-"

"Just what? You wanna tease my darlin' for my decision in calling him sugarplum? Aren't you supposed to be the eldest brother?" You kept Floyd's hands in yours as you cocked an eyebrow up at JD, your eyes narrowing in his direction. Bruce had turned away, silently drinking his milkshake.

"No of course not-" JD started again, though didn't get far before you flashed a bright smile at him.

"Phew! For a second you have me worried there, dumplin'. Thought you were really striking that low!" And JD stared at you and your sudden switch of mood, wondering if he was seeing things or if he wasn't going insane. Either or, you gave Floyd a kiss on the forehead and turned your attention back to him.

"You still have the energy to dance with me, Sugarplum?"

And Floyd swore he fell deeper in love with you, if that was even possible at this point. "With you? Always."

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#floyd trolls #brozone x reader #floyd trolls x reader #floyd x reader #brozone #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls dreamworks #trolls fandom #trolls brozone #clay trolls #branch trolls #john dory trolls #viva trolls #spruce trolls

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neopuppy · 2 months

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first, jeno with a mouth fixation. secondly, jeno with a fixation on your mouth but...well, you reject him each time he's made a move on you...that is...until you can't reject him anymore. how does that come to be? idk. but he knows how to get what he wants i'm sure. (you know how to make him get what he wants)

“Pay attention.”

Jeno blinks furiously, sitting up and wiping his chin of imaginary drool. It’s only about the fifth time you’ve scolded him, or maybe the sixth, who's counting.

Right. Pay attention.

“This final counts for half of your grade.” You remind him, peering up from behind your glasses. “Are you even listening?”

No. Jeno hasn’t listened once throughout the duration of this semester. He gave up the first day of class when he saw you chewing on the end of your pen, tapping it against your lips as you followed along with the professor’s introduction.

It seemed to only worsen from there, pens turned to your pinky finger, dragging the nail between your teeth. Hard candies that you’d suck on and hold between your teeth, lightly licking the sugar coating off to make the treat last longer.

That gave him the idea to approach you, finally finding an excuse after receiving his first graded test, not even bothered by the bold ‘D’ circled at the top.

‘These are for you.’ He said flatly, setting a bag of caramel apple suckers on your desk.

‘Huh? Wait, I love these..’ you mumbled, picking up the bag full of 60 suckers. ‘But how—‘

He shrugged, turning around to make way to his seat without another word. Not bothering to explain that he’d noticed the pattern in flavors you always seemed to have stockpiled inside your hidden candy drawer.

Without fail one of those lollipops would end up in your mouth a few times per week as you took notes and graded assignments. Swapping between drinks of water from your overpriced adult sippy cup, biting on the straw attached to your iced coffee, scouring through your drawer after an hour of lectures to find a treat to wake yourself up. Somehow your lipgloss managed to stay intact through it all, making Jeno’s fingers twitch as he grasped onto the edges of his desk.

It’s not only how perfectly juicy your lips look sucking around various objects, but how obscene they hang open when you’re thinking too hard, casually tucking your bottom lip in under your teeth. The meat filling your bottom lip sinking in as you bite down harder, raising the beat of his heart to pump faster through his veins.

At this point he looks forward to another disappointed frown dragging your pretty mouth down when you place another failed test on his desk. He shrugs and smiles, mentioning by the third fail that he may need extra help, assistance if you have the time for him.

Each time you coin up some excuse, too busy for study sessions. He needs to learn to study on his own, teacher assistants are not tutors.

But the day he presents you a gift card for your favorite coffee shop, you begin to relent, smiling softly as you refuse to accept bribery. He didn’t stop there of course, opting to learn your order and show up a few minutes earlier to have everything set out on your desk. Even throwing in a pastry that you munched on once getting halfway into your coffee, tearing off small pieces to chew on which he thoroughly enjoyed.

The next upside test you hand him had an extra note to meet after class.

Finally.

Only now that he’s alone with you, it’s even worse. Hyper fixated on your lips moving as you explain the subject he’d just failed, a big fat F on his test that he could really give a shit about right now.

“Jeno, it wasn’t easy to get this room at the last minute.” You sigh, waving a yawn away. “You seriously need to turn around your grade, at this rate you’ll never pass.”

He hums, agreeing with you, digging into his bag for a sucker. “I don’t work well like this, the pressure,” unwrapping the candy, he drags its dry coating across his lip, slowly blinking at you. “With no incentive—“

“The incentive is your grade.” You interrupt, snatching the lollipop away from him before he can pop it into his mouth. “You need to focus.”

“Make me then.” He shrugs, wrapping a firm hold on your retreating wrist. “That’s mine.”

“Fine.” You scowl, shaking him off. “Finish this practice quiz and I’ll give you your candy back.”

He has to hide a smirk when you raise it to your mouth, eyebrow cocked. “You get more than half wrong and it’ll be mine.”

“Keep it.” He says, leaning over the desk. “In fact.. I’d love to see you try and take it from me.”

Quickly clutching your wrist, he draws your balled up fist back toward his mouth, the lollipop stuck between your fingers. “Get it back from me, and I’ll pass whatever test you throw my way.” He finishes, lips sucking around the candy, sleek gaze burning into yours.

“Want it?” He says between slow, long licks. Grip staying tight on you.

“Let go of me.” You grit, jerking away without budge. “This isn’t proper behavior between students and teachers.”

“You’re not my teacher.” He corrects, sucking the lollipop to one side. “But you want me to pass right? Because if I don’t..”

Trailing his free hand up your arm, he glides past your shoulder and throat, pinching your chin roughly. “I’ll have to repeat next semester when you take over. And I’ll make sure to show up everyday, miss every assignment, fail each and every test.”

“Why—“

“Because,” he tugs the lollipop free, pressing the saliva coated sucker to your pursed lips. “I want you to open up that pretty mouth.” Digging in his fingers, he forces your jaw to unhinge. Whimpering as he invades your tongue and drags the sucked on lollipop down the middle.

“So good at using your tongue, aren’t you?” He jeers, tapping the roof of your mouth with the lollipop until you gag around nothing. “Be good, push those pretty lips together.”

Shaking his ruthless grip on your jaw, he pulls harder until your neck cracks and you cough from the stimulation against your tongue. Lips wrapping shut around the stick.

“Very good.” But not enough. He stands abruptly, chair scraping nastily across the floor. Without losing any tension clenching your jaw and chin, he pulls the corners of your lips open. Thumbs piercing past the seam to watch your tongue struggle to not swallow down the lollipop. Saliva spurting out and running down your chin as he licks at his lips.

Yes. Very good.

“But I want more.” He whispers, thumbs deeping in to push your cheeks open from inside out.

“Pl-please.” You gurgle, moist eyes blinking up at him.

Ignoring your pleads, his fingers drag out, smearing drool down your cheeks and chin. The lollipop stem hangs between your pouty abused lip, covered in slick spit. “This won’t do.” He chuckles, dragging it free from your lips and returning the lollipop to his mouth.

Fingers dig back into your cheeks to keep your head in place, dragging a thick rubbery plastic from his bag. “You can do better.”

#asks #nct hard hours #nct dream hard hours #nct smut

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 8 months

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Hi I just learned Kinktober is a thing

So here's my four favorite boys and their kinks.

Or is it five this time? *dramatic sound effect*

And yes, I'm still working on ABCs of Kink, I've got the next one about halfway done and it may be posted today, and I'm still working through the ask requests, and still

But headcanons shiny need more

Ooooh...Kinky ;D

Very obviously NSFW.

LA!Zoro X AFAB!Reader, LA!Sanji X AFAB!Reader, LA!Shanks X AFAB!Reader, LA!Mihawk X AFAB!Reader, LA!Buggy X AFAB!Reader (I'm on my second watch of OPLA and he's kinda grown on me).

Zoro

"I hope you like it rough, baby."

Zoro's not super kinky, but he definitely likes it rough, which goes hand in hand with the couple kinks he does have.

You're going to want to have a safeword/signal if you're giving him a blowjob—he's thick and he loves seeing you gag and choke on his cock. Literally the biggest turn-on.

Holding tight onto your hair the whole time.

The sight of your make-up trailing down your flushed face while he's fucking your mouth and throat makes his knees weak.

Pulling your head all the way down to come down your throat, shaking, groaning, swearing.

He's a little cautious about outright choking you during sex—he doesn't want to get too wound up and unintentionally hurt you—but if you ask him to, he's going to, because it's still an enormous turn-on.

"God, I fucking love it when you gag on it...."

Sanji

"If I make you dinner, do I get to have you for dessert?"

Like, do I even have to say it?

Food play.

Chocolate sauce, whipped cream, caramel, it's going to get messy. Any reason to trail his lips and his tongue over your beautiful body is a very, very good reason.

(BTW I recently learned Taz Skylar has a tongue ring so it's now canon that Sanji has one and do not argue with me I will die on this hill.)

He's never going to do or say anything to degrade you...but if you want to do so to him? By all means, be his guest.

You're his queen and he's your loyal subject, the man has no qualms about you doing anything you want to him.

Shove him into a wall, call him names, tie him to the bed, step on him, whip him, spit in his face—he will thank you for it. If it brings you pleasure, it brings him pleasure.

Literally everything you do turns him on, and he's beyond happy to be your personal toy.

"You, my love, are the sweetest thing that has ever touched my lips."

Shanks

"Oh, come on, sweetheart. Where's the fun in life without a little risk?"

Honestly the kinkiest of the four (but not the five). Super playful, and one hundred percent open to absolutely anything you suggest trying.

I mean anything. If you tell him you want to dress him up in frilly lingerie and call him your wench, he's totally game.

But he reserves the right to crack stupid jokes about it the whole time.

His own biggest kink is public sex. The riskier the better.

Reaching under the table at a tavern and creeping his hand up your thigh and under your skirt to rub you through your panties...or just flat out pulling you onto him to straddle his lap, make out with you, grind against you with absolutely no concern of anyone seeing.

Pulling you right into the mouth of an alley, barely concealed in the shadows and just having you right there against the wall, where any passersby might catch a glimpse of what you're doing.

He doesn't care—it's not like anyone's even going to attempt to stop one of the most notorious pirates on the Grand Line.

He enjoys a little role-play as well. You're the little marine cadet he took prisoner and decided to keep as his personal playing. The enchanting stranger from a tavern he's seduced.

Call him "captain." It drives him wild.

"Oh, what a good little wench you are, love."

Mihawk

"You seem to have forgotten who's in charge here, little one."

One hundred percent certified professional Brat Tamer™.

He's not going to let on that your pestering and testing his patience is anything but a casual annoyance—but the whole time he'll be thinking about how he's going to punish you later for being such an endearing little pest.

You're getting tied up. Cuffed to the bed. Clothes torn off of you. Spanked. You're getting teased beyond the point of sanity, within an inch of your life.

There's a fair chance he won't let you come for literal hours.

That he'll leave you tied up while he sits back and has a glass of wine and just revels in your pleading for more, revels in being in total control of your agony and pleasure.

You're going to have to beg, to promise you'll be a good girl for your master (even though you both know that's not true) before you get anything more out of him.

Big kink for lace and nylon as well.

He's constantly having to buy you new tights, new underwear and lingerie, because seeing you in them sets him on fire to the point that he's very likely to literally rip them off of you in a fit of desire and fuck you absolutely senseless.

"For the last damned time, no, your safe-word cannot be Yoru."

Buggy

"You know you're my favorite freak, babe."

Couldn't not include Buggy this time because it's pretty obvious that he's the kinkiest motherfucker at this party.

The guy has removable body parts, for gods' sake, of course he's going to utilize them in the most creative ways possible. He could be on the other side of the ship and still have his hand down your panties.

Degradation, cuckhold, ropes, whips, chains, knife play, you name it and he's probably into it. It would be a miracle for you to come up with something he hasn't tried at least twice.

He's going to call you every degrading name he can think of. Spank you and slap you. Choke you until you nearly pass out. And he's fully open to and expects you to do the same to him.

Dom or sub, doesn't matter, he's just having a good old-fashioned filthy time either way.

Totally open to threesomes, he's bi as fuck.

Also totally open to chaining you up and letting the entire crew run a train on you while he watches.

If you can imagine it, he's done it, wrote the book on it, and you're going to be doing it with him.

"Don't even pretend you don't like being my slut."

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moonydustx · 2 months

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Part 2 from this request (thank u again @cartoonykat )

Mihawk, Lucci and Crocodile x F!Reader.

In short: how they would react to F!Reader saying she was pregnant, how they would deal with the child.

(get ready to read, the stories are a little long)

PART 1 HERE - Luffy, Zoro and Ace x F! Reader

Warnings are placed individually in each history.

requests open | one piece masterlist

Mihawk

warnings: fluff. Mihawk and f!Reader are married and want to have children. Mentions of F! Reader be a cook. Very brief mention of abortion (but it was in the past). Content a little spicy, nothing detailed or explicit. Mihawk speaks Spanish a few times in this one (I just couldn't help it). Princesa: princess. Cariño: kind of "Sweetheart"

You had already arranged your sundress countless times, as well as your hair, as well as the entire dinner table. You couldn't sit still, anxious for your husband's arrival. Today you celebrated three years of marriage and you knew that after a long two months, he would return home. You knew his temperament well enough to know that there were high chances of finding him in a bad mood, he hated spending long periods away from the castle and this had been the longest time of all. Of course, your anxiety had nothing to do with the little box hidden in the kitchen.

"Cariño?" You heard his voice from downstairs and in a matter of minutes you already had him in your field of vision. His expression lit up when he saw you and lifted you into his arms. "How I missed you!"

"Me too darling." his hat fell back as you peppered kisses across his face. "My God, how can you stay away all this time?"

"Problems, cariño, a long list of problems." your feet touched the floor again after the long hug. "And what amazing smell is that?"

"Let's just say I used my free time to prepare something special for both of us."

"You should be resting. Last time we spoke, you weren't well." his smile faded, replaced by an alert tone.

"I promise I'm okay." You tried to make conversation just like the day he called you and said you didn't look well. You were talking through a den den mushi, how could he realize that?

"Just give me a few minutes and I'll meet you in the dining room." he asked and placed a quick kiss on your lips.

The minutes of waiting seemed like endless hours, just like dinner itself. You were willing to listen to him talk about how complicated the days at the Cross Guild were, about the news in the world outside your little dome or even how delicious the dough you had prepared was. Your fingers intertwined with his and despite the physical proximity, your mind wandered on how to get to the subject naturally. You had already tried a few times, you had already lost once without even knowing that you expected it, you wanted - and needed - this time to be special.

"Princesa?" he called you, looking towards the cup in front of you. "You didn't like the wine I chose?"

"It's one of my favorites actually."

"Yet it remains untouched." he observed, noticing your hands restlessly hitting the table. "Is something going on?"

"First, I'll get this." You took the wine cork. "Second, wait here for a while."

Twisting the small piece of cork between your fingers - the one you would make sure to keep, you reached for the small box in the kitchen and before long it was standing in front of Mihawk.

"To what do I owe the honor of being presented like this, out of nowhere?" he began to undo the bow, setting the wine glass aside and using both hands to undo the wrapping.

Inside, there were some pregnancy tests, in your desperation to know if it was correct, you took a much larger quantity than necessary. Next to them, a small hawk plush. You had searched the nearby town while picking up fresh items for dinner. At first your idea was to just talk to him, but the stuffed hawk with yellow eyes stole your attention.

"How could I not notice?" he murmured, as if a thought had been spoken aloud. "That means it worked…"

"If you talk about all sex without a condom, without any protection… Drac!"

He pulled you from the chair onto his lap. The hands on your back served as much support as your arms around his neck. Your laughter echoed throughout the castle while Mihawk almost sloppily distributed kisses to any part of your face that he could find.

"How long have you known?" he asked euphorically, a type of state that was rare to find in hawk-eyes.

"A few weeks ago. No, I would never tell you that on a phone call." you interrupted him before he could complain.

For a few minutes, the two of you remained there. Swears like "I love you" "You just made me the happiest man in the world" they were uttered and kisses spread across your face. His hands, accustomed to the weight and brutality of swords, touched you gently. Not like you were something about to break, but rather like something he valued so much. As if he wanted to record every moment of that moment in his memory through the drawings of his hands on your body. The yellowish eyes practically penetrated your soul as you watched Mihawk.

"May I know what's going on in your beautiful head, my princess?" Mihawk's nose caressed your neck, earning a smile from your lips.

"Now you know. It was a low blow to choose my favorite wine." you mumbled, adjusting yourself in his lap.

"No alcohol for you from now on."

"Not for a while now. God, I'd kill for a full glass right now."

"Maybe I have a little idea of how to satisfy that desire of yours."

"What do you say, hawk eyes." Your attentive eyes followed him as he brought the glass of wine to his mouth and slowly drank the drink, in silent provocation. "Are you capable of being so mean to your pregnant wife? I thought it was to satisfy my desire."

"Don't put it like that." He returned the cup to the immense table, his agile hands slid across the bare skin of your thighs. "I just want you to taste it in a new way."

The taste of wine invaded your lips when Mihawk trapped you in a kiss. His tongue opened space in you, eliciting a moan from you when you felt the much-desired taste invade your palate. In an improvised juggling act, without taking your lips off his, you adjusted yourself in Mihawk's lap. Before now your legs dangled around his body, looking for some kind of friction.

"Babe, I need you." you murmured against his lips and his hands held you even tighter, feeling his intimacy harden against yours. "Please, it's on my craving list too."

"Who knew what a little of the taste would do to you." his hands slid over your skin, he could clearly see your skin crawl. "It also seems like you're more sensitive, this is interesting."

"Why don't you take it off and find out?" you pulled his hands down to the hem of your dress.

"Do you want to take this upstairs?" he asked and instead of using words, you just took off the dress you were wearing, throwing it across the kitchen.

You didn't need to shout the news from the rooftops, that night it was enough for Mihawk that you screamed his name, that he valued the body that would be home to your two long-awaited baby. After eliciting screams, nectar and sweat from you unlike many other times when you spent hours caressing each other and talking, you remained awake for a short time. Then Mihawk could notice the small difference in your belly, how it seemed firmer and pointier, different from the last time he had ventured across your body.

"Sorry about the time out." he first made sure you were asleep and then leaned down to whisper against your skin. "I promise to make it up to you. Both of you."

You could notice the different way Mihawk looked at you and not that he didn't do it often, but it became more and more common to hear him say "You look amazing." "You are so beautiful." Soon after the discovery, you also discovered how your husband could go into hyperfocus and the time was to find a perfect home for you. It still hurt you to leave the castle behind, even if for a brief time, but he knew he had tasks to fulfill with the Cross Guild and because of that, he would need to spend more time away from your island home.

The small arranged mansion was also isolated and was a result of Crocodile's help. Despite having little contact with the main part of the island, it was much less minutes away than the old house. At least you would have space to redecorate the entire room to your liking.

"Woman, you really want to spare me from living a long life." Before your protests, you felt his arms wrap around you and take you off the ladder that you were balancing on to finish painting the room. "If this child turns out to be half as stubborn as you, I will be in big trouble."

"Baby, don't listen to your father's nonsense." you mumbled to your belly bump. "And you, did you manage to assemble the crib?"

"No." he practically whispered and as a way of irritating him, you pretended not to hear. "I'm going back to the city, I'm sure there must be something already done."

"You men, with your little swords, can't handle a new toy." You stood on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. "Let's switch tasks."

"You women and your kitchen knives." he grumbled, watching you leave and then return only to look at him with judgement. "Okay, I've been an asshole now."

The light shade of yellow had just finished filling the walls when a bang took the eagle eyes' attention. Hearing you swear, it only took seconds for him to be on the doorstep, watching you contemplate the collapsed crib.

"What were you saying about swords?" he teased but your furious look made him change his mind - he swore he saw something red shine in your iris. "Tomorrow we'll go to town together and get one ready, what do you think my love?"

"A great idea."

"And for now, how about a hot bath, some music and grape juice." well, at least that was the way he had found to prevent you from drinking wine.

"Can we include a massage in the package?" you took advantage of the fact that he was behind your body to lean on him.

"Whatever my dear wife wants."

The house was already ready, toys, clothes and gifts from the most different friends were piling up and by a pure coincidence of fate, Luna arrived into the world on a full moon night. You would carry it in your soul when Mihawk's eyes - golden when they touched the moonlight - met the small pair of irises identical to his.

"My little Luna, you chose the right day to come." he whispered, pacing the sleeping girl from side to side. "You are so perfect."

"Just like her daddy." you answered.

In other situations you would end up in two camps: Mihawk would play the opposite and say that the most beautiful thing in the relationship is you or on days when he was really in a good mood, he would say how lucky you were to have him. That night, he just smiled at your comment. Not a provocative smile like most of the ones he had given his entire life. It was one of those that made the hawk's eyes become just a detail on his illuminated face.

"Thank you my love." he replied to you. "Thank you for bringing me a little piece of heaven, of all this infinity above us. Mi preciosa Luna."

When little Luna wasn't within your reach, you didn't need to make an effort to find her, she would be in her father's shadow. Whether in the moments he took to read or even in some Cross Guild meetings. The other two men didn't seem to mind the little girl's presence, who was always busy with something.

"I think we can… Hey, what's this?" Buggy screamed as he saw the girl climb over him. "Mihawk!"

"Let the girl have some fun. That's what clowns are for, aren't they?" Crocodile responded in a gentle tone while Mihawk kept his eyes on Luna, who without hesitation pulled one of Buggy's ears and sat on the couch next to him.

"You little brat!" the clown made to take the ear from her hand in an almost brutal way as he felt her digging the almost non-existent fingers into the cartilage of the ear. "That hurts."

"I wouldn't want to have to remove your other ear, permanently." Mihawk spoke calmly, as if he had just commented on an everyday fact.

"Sorry to interrupt." You walked into the room, attracting looks, especially from a certain little girl who realized that your ear wasn't that interesting anymore.

"Mami!" Luna immediately started throwing her little arms towards you and even though she tried to at least hide it in these situations it was impossible not to see Mihawk's eyes light up.

"She just took down a Yonkou, I'll be saving a spot on the team for her." Crocodile laughed when he saw your dissatisfied face. "Okay, I guess I'll have to settle for just a single hawk's eye."

On the same day, after a few long hours of meeting between them, you thought that at least your husband would want to rest, to remove any idea of work from inside the house - despite his choice to have brought work into the house while the Luna was still small. Of all the places you expected to find yourself, you didn't expect to find Mihawk with little Luna on his lap, in front of them a large Cross Guild poster.

"Who's that?" Mihawk pointed at the figure.

"It's a crocodile." The word was slurred, but Luna said it anyway with a certain confidence. Again, the man asked, pointing to the next image. "The clown."

"And who is this?"

"Dada!" she cheered, making him laugh along and, consequently, you, happy with your little family.

Lucci

warnings: Lucci is a warning in itself. A lot of angst with a somewhat happy ending. F!Reader was also an agent, she had the fruit that transformed her into a kind of cat. Slightly troubled relationship between him and F!Reader. Completely based on the fact that Lucci is not a complete psychopath (I mean, egghead spoilers ahead: him asking for Kaku's life, how can we not love him? Besides the CP9 cover stories).

A few days had passed since the last time you and Lucci had seen each other in person. The voices demanding mission reports seemed distant as you watched him from the other side of the table and you had known him long enough to know that even though he seemed focused he was still able to see him glance casually in your direction and no one noticed.

You wished the brief meeting could have lasted longer, given you time to think more about what words to use, to fantasize that Lucci would be happy with the idea, but chills ran through your body just thinking about it.

"Hey, meow girl." Kaku nudged you with his shoulder, pulling you back to the real world. "I heard you got into trouble."

"You have no idea." You laughed heartily, pushing him back. "Call me meow girl again and I'll wring your huge neck."

"Hey, I'm just being nice."

"I bet you are, big guy." You pinched the tip of his nose, leaving him grumbling.

"Need to talk to you." Lucci's voice interrupted the two of you, stopping Kaku's laughter and complaints. The man just waved and walked away, leaving you and Lucci alone. "Not here."

He took the lead, his firm steps and serious posture didn't let anyone think anything other than that you - who followed him without the same grandeur - had gotten yourself into some kind of problem. The solid wooden door closed behind you as you noticed Rob Lucci walk through the space, filling two glasses of brandy and handing you one of them. The drink danced through your hands, but never reached your lips.

"You were restless today, pupils dilated, sweat on your face." He touched a temple, noticing the moisture. "What kind of problem did you encounter?"

"I'm pregnant." You ripped the band-aid off at once, with no time to let the thoughts flow through your mind.

The man took a few steps back, looking you up and down and then looking around the entire room. The small shot of brandy in his hand was downed in moments and he took the one you were holding from you, the liquid meeting the same fate.

"And what do I have to do with it?" you already knew his cold temper, but you didn't expect to hear such rude words.

"What do you have to do with this?" you snapped, approaching him. "What do you have to do with this? Use your fucking brain Lucci."

"What's wrong? How can you guarantee that this is my doing?" His tone dropped, becoming threatening. "I have nothing to do with this."

"I knew you could be an asshole, but after all this time?" you gave him a push Lucci didn't react, just letting his body move away.

"We had one night and that was it. This could be anyone's business."

The lie that came out of his lips hurt more than any blow you've ever taken in all these years fighting alongside him.

You threatened to push him, but this time he reacted by guiding your body to the wall and enclosing you in his arms. Your body contracted as you saw him punch the wall next to you and some pieces of concrete fall.

"Get out of here." his tone became a whisper and if it weren't for the argument you were already having, it was impossible to tell he was mad. "You get out of here and ask to leave Cipher Pol today. Ask or I'll throw you out."

How could you have been stupid to think that would lead anywhere? You thought Lucci could have changed something, all the times the two of you could have had some connection felt in vain.

Swallowing your tears and not giving any justification to anyone, a few days later you managed to free yourself from the organization. You knew they would keep an eye on you, but at least now you wouldn't be the target of Lucci's hatred.

A few months later you had already found a new home on your home island, a new spark of hope that everything would work out, even without him. That week you would be six months pregnant and you were already used to the affection and closeness of your neighbors and colleagues. What you weren't used to was strange noises in your house in the middle of the night.

Reluctantly - and against any recommendation from your doctor, you assumed the form that your devil fruit allowed. A completely black cat. You still remembered Kalifa's laugh when you two and Kaku acquired your fruits and she claimed it was curious that you also turned into a feline.

The image of the man you no longer imagined seeing in front of you was there, standing in your kitchen. You wanted to return to your human form and ask what it was about, you wanted to at least feel him again, but the hatred inside you spoke louder. Shooing away the pigeon that accompanied him, you jumped at Lucci, climbing up his suit with your fingernails.

"Stop this." Lucci tried to hold you back, but you kept throwing small kicks at him. Damn the time you trimmed your claws, the damage wouldn't be so great "Stop!"

Fatigue soon hit you and you returned to your human form, even so you continued attacking him, this time with weak slaps.

"You practically called me a bitch." you snapped, having your hands trapped by his. "You humiliated me and now you have the nerve to show up here."

"You need to calm down." you lunged at him, even though your hands were practically tied by his hands. "You're going to hurt yourself, sweetheart, please."

The calm tone of his words hit you before your brain even processed his arms trapping you in a tight hug. It took a few seconds before you actually gave up trying to free yourself.

"Calm down, please." he asked once again, pressing you against his body.

"You left me." hurt replaced the hatred in your voice, this time you were able to let go of him, now calmer.

Noticing that your clothes were gone with your transformation, you turned your back and went to your room, reaching for panties and a robe. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you closed your eyes, trying to regain the lost air and dealing with the weakness that took over your body.

"There are big differences between the anatomy of a cat and a human, even more so when they carry their kittens." Lucci leaned on the doorstep and realized that you still hadn't turned your attention to him. He soon bent down in front of you, taking one of your hands. "How can I help you?"

"You sent me away." the hurt was almost palpable in your voice. "My life was good here, I got a job even though I was pregnant, I started making friends. Why are you here after so long?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you two." Lucci gave up and sat next to you. "That day I had to lie." he confessed and your attention quickly turned to Lucci. "I saw Yuro following us, him slightly pushing the door to hear us. He was interested in my position just like he was always interested in you. What do you think he would do when he connected the information?" The question remained in the air for some time, long enough for you to feel your heart soften a little. "That's why I asked you to leave, I didn't know how well the little act had worked."

"And how did you find me here?"

"I never lost sight of you." the answer was almost obvious to you, yet it was good to hear. "Besides, even if I wanted to, that annoying giraffe wouldn't leave me alone after I told him about the child." a light laugh dared to cross your lips. "I'm sorry for this."

"I know you meant well, Lucci, but it still hurts anyway." you made to touch his arm, but you flinched. "It doesn't mean that I don't miss you, that I don't want to see you."

"I figured that. As long as you accept me here, accept me in this child's life, I want to stay." he, contrary to what you had done, allowed his hand to touch your skin, turning your face towards him. "And what you want?"

"Can we just cuddle for a bit, please?"

Lucci opted to just pull you into his arms and drag you to the bed, laying down comfortably and allowing you to snuggle into him. Feeling a little wary of how you would react, his hand lightly touched the spot on the back of your neck that you loved being stroked. Surely your cat form would be purring. For a long time, it was the kind of physical contact you had.

The residents of the small village were initially surprised by the man's presence. He didn't stay for long and when he stayed on the island, he only left the house a few times and had a serious expression on his face, not allowing anyone to feel free to talk. And when it was extremely necessary, he preferred to use Hattori for that role.

The little child arrived into the world on a rainy night. Leo was an almost identical copy of his father, except for his eyes that were the same as yours. Lucci only returned to the island two days later and few things could surprise him more than finding you sitting on the bed with several blankets around your body, while you breastfed the little baby.

"Hey." you limited yourself to saying, not wanting to speak more or louder so as not to take away the child's peace.

"Are you cold?"

"I just need to keep the nest… the bed warm, make our little Leo comfortable." You looked at the little one, who was still focused on eating. "Want to see him?" You nodded to the space next to you on the bed.

Lucci got closer and could notice every feature of the baby it was like looking at a small version of him. Until the small eyes found the man's direction and he understood that everything bad that could exist in him, in Lucci, would be compensated by everything good he had in you. A strange feeling took over him, something like possession, like pride, something that if he needed to put into words he wouldn't be able to.

His hands first lowered the cover from your back and then lowered the strap of your shirt. Before you could complain, Lucci started distributing kisses and rubbing his face against your skin, in a strange affection that you gladly accepted. In anyone's eyes, it would be like seeing two cats taking care of their pup.

Lucci was right in his little mental gamble. Leo was a physical copy of him, but he had your personality. Cunning, agile, but kind, a soft heart that accepted anything. Well, almost anything.

"Daddy!" the boy shouted as soon as he saw Lucci enter the small yard after almost two months away. The man just bent down and allowed him to jump into his arms. When Leo was just a few centimeters away, Lucci watched the boy scream in horror and walk away. "Hattori!"

The pigeon landed on Lucci's shoulder and that was enough to explain the story. Ever since baby Leo woke up with the pigeon watching him, the now three-year-old boy was terrified of any bird and poor Hattori was included - and was the main reason.

"Son, I already told you. Hattori is good." you caught up to them, sitting on the floor so you were at Leo's level.

"No, it is not." he grumbled, hiding in the back of your neck. "Get him out of here."

"You need to get used to it." Lucci would once again try and knew he might fail. "Look at me."

"I don't want."

"Leo…" the warning tone caught the boy's attention, who just gave him space to see, not letting go of you. "Look, Hattori is a good friend."

Lucci let the pigeon land on his fingertips. Fulfilling the small unspoken agreement between the two, Hattori remained quiet, accepting Lucci to stroke his head.

"See? Your mom likes him too." Lucci passed the pigeon to your finger and more docilely you caught it.

"Come here." Lucci picked up the boy and whispered something in his ear, probably some promise to the boy. Leo, with his small trembling hand, stretched out his finger and let Hattori land. "See? He can be a great friend."

"He can?"

"Coo, yes sir Leo." As soon as the dove spoke, Leo screamed in fear again, letting the bird fly and throwing himself at you.

"Maybe that was too soon." Lucci commented, helping you stand with the boy on your lap.

That time, Lucci spent about a month with you and you were already suffering from the night he was leaving. Partly because of your longing, even if you hadn't gotten back into the relationship, you couldn't deny how you felt about him. In addition to suffering for little Leo. He admired his father, even though he didn't know what he actually did and even though he maintained a more serious behavior, you knew that Lucci adored the boy.

"Dad…" you watched Lucci put Leo to sleep, with the boy practically with his eyes closed. "You will return?"

"I promise you I will."

"What if I cry just this little bit." he pointed at the small space with his fingers. "Will you still love me?"

The question seemed to take him by surprise. You noticed that Lucci didn't respond immediately and you wondered how many memories were going through his head, of all the death, chaos and hatred that he had carried since childhood. You knew that it was difficult for Lucci to express - and even nurture feelings that were reserved for few people, the bond with you and Leo was unique.

"Absolutely," a rare light chuckle escaped him. "You're my best friend, remember?" Lucci finished covering the boy. "Now sleep."

You blew your little boy a kiss from a distance and closed the door to his room. Like something magnetic you followed Lucci to the small room of the house you two sort of shared.

"Need to talk to you."

"I'm listening." you crossed your arms, bracing yourself for something bad, something like "That was the last time I showed up."

"I'm leaving Cipher Pol." he took a small letter from his pocket. That seal was familiar and the last time you saw it was when you gave up.

"Explain this to me properly"

"Even on a mission in Water 7, being a shipwright wasn't that bad." as he spoke, you felt even more lost. "I've always had my goals. Little Leo wasn't one of them, but I can't ignore him."

"You know you don't have to do that. Our little arrangement has been working." you tried to argue, but Lucci was irreducible, as always.

"I don't really need it. I want it." he spoke firmly. "I'm just going to carry out this mission more."

"Something important?"

"I need to go to Egghead, deal with Vegapunk." he limited himself to speaking, not wanting to go into too many details. Despite asking, your mind was still stuck on the idea of having Lucci always there.

"Promise to come back." the words came out like an order. "Promise now Lucci, please."

Lucci just hung his face, trying to understand where that plea had come from. You always warned him to make promises to Leo, after all, life as an agent and director of CP0 wasn't the safest. Those words didn't usually come out of your mouth.

Ignoring the mix of sensations that accumulated in your chest, you practically threw yourself towards Lucci, taking his lips for yourself. His lack of reaction only lasted a few seconds and you only had to press your body against his for his hands to find your legs and lock them around his waist.

"I promise." he said amidst sighs and footsteps towards your room. "As long as you promise to come back to me, to be mine again."

"I promise."

Crocodile

warnings: angst, but with a happy ending. Crocodile and F!Reader are married, there are mentions of blood but nothing much. Mentions of Cross Guild because I absolutely love the existence of this trio.

Long years, long disputes and problems ago, Crocodile found you lost in Alabasta. Fleeing from a crew that chose to only use you, you found yourself without any direction and when demonstrating your skills to escape some thieves, he saw something interesting in you.

This interest lasted through the years, even into the fall of his reign in Alabasta, even into the time he was trapped in Impel Down, he knew that once he found you again, he wouldn't let something so good slip through his hands like sand in the wind.

That's how the small ring with green details found your hand, which you passed from Miss Honeymoon to his wife. Very little time had passed before you had to face the countless positive tests that piled up in front of you.

You tried to go back to bed in silence, the goal was not to wake Crocodile and over time, find the courage to bring the news to him. However, you failed miserably. As soon as the bathroom door opened, you found Crocodile waiting for you.

"You've been out of bed for a while. Is everything okay?" he asked, leaning against the wall next to the door.

"Y-Yes." Your voice betrayed you, giving away that at least something had happened in there and you knew Crocodile enough to know that he would turn everything over and discover your little secret. "Can we talk?"

"It's a little early for that, isn't it, my little one?" The serious expression on your face told him that the matter couldn't wait. Without asking, he took your hand and guided you back to the bed, placing you in a sitting position. "What happened?"

"I h-guess. I mean." you took a deep breath, the huge room seemed to compress next to you. "I'm pregnant."

Silence prevailed for a few seconds - it seemed like ages between the two of you. You looked for any reaction, for anything, but Crocodile was far away. It was just a physical form in front of you.

"Rest, there's still a long way to go before dawn." he just said, turning his back and heading towards the bathroom.

It didn't take long for you to see him leave, hair wet, steam everywhere, no more words left his lips and the first rays of sun appeared on the horizon when he disappeared from your field of vision. Almost two weeks passed like this, only essential words were exchanged between the two of you, Crocodile spent most of his hours away from home or locked in his office. According to Daz, the boss had problems to solve.

That was it, this would end the relationship that you two had worked so hard to achieve. Without saying anything, you packed your bags, even so you couldn't leave without at least looking at his face. Opening the office door without any kind of ceremony, the first thing that caught your attention was the blood that was staining him, only then did you notice the cut that he was finishing stitching.

"Crocodile!" You got closer, trying to touch the wound, but he pushed your hand away. "Are you okay?"

"It was just a superficial cut." he simply responded, finishing the last stitch and using gauze to cover the wound.

Despite your concern, you would not let your recent decision shake you. Crocodile watched with surprised eyes as you took off the ring you were wearing and with shaking hands left it on the table.

"What is this about?"

"Given the distance, the way you've been treating me, I don't think you were happy with the existence of a baby." You started, trying to make your voice steady. "But I am and it's okay that you don't want to have a child, but I do. I just don't want to have to deal with this indifference, this distance. You don't talk to me, you don't sleep in our bed…"

"Calm down darling, please." he asked, his unshaken tone quite contrary to the worried expression on his features.

He took your hand and gently made you circle the table, standing next to him. Crocodile then took three brown folders from a drawer, each of which had a name and a photo of a guy.

"Do you remember them?" you still remembered the faces, before settling on the new island, the two of you evaluated how the entire system worked.

"The three main leaders here on this island. This one is responsible for the bandits." You pointed to the first photo and then to the second. "This one was a pirate too, as I remember."

"And this one works in the slave trade." Crocodile took a pen and crossed out his photo, just as the first man's photo was also crossed out.

"And what does this have to do with what I told you just now?" you tried to move away from the table, but the hand on your waist stopped you.

"As we once talked about, I planned to calmly find a place for my business, maybe some partnerships…" he put the folders aside, turning his attention completely to you. "Now with this. With our baby on the way. I can't allow there to be threats of this level around."

"What do you mean by that, my dear?" the endearing word involuntarily escaped your lips, a clear sign that you couldn't help but have love for Crocodile, even with the hurt.

"I needed to speed up my business, exclude some of these faces." He held your face and pressed his forehead to yours. "I can only be happy with this news when I know you two are safe."

"Crocodile…"

"I'm going to be the happiest man on this island when I can walk around showing off my beautiful, shiny, pregnant wife, carrying my little one. I don't want our children to have to see the terror we've both experienced throughout this life."

"I thought you didn't want me anymore." you let your hands wrap around him and his found a similar path around your body.

"I'm a man of my word and when I said I want you for the rest of my life, I really meant it." His lips traced their way across your face. "Please give me just a few more days and I will allow myself to be happy with this news."

It took another week before you woke up in the middle of the night, feeling something you hadn't felt in time. The icy contrast of his hook revealed that Crocodile had accidentally slept in that position. Head and one hand resting on your belly, in a protective mode. Apparently, the day had finally come for him to allow himself to be happy.

The months that followed were calmer, with the full-time man being your shadow, even on the tireless afternoons of shopping you did, Crocodile was there. At least he considered himself lucky and rewarded, since your raging hormones acted in a somewhat pleasant way for him - which made Daz find the two of you in a vulnerable way in the kitchen.

The best doctors from across the island gathered in the grand mansion when Ella was born. An identical copy for you, much to Crocodile's happiness. You knew that Crocodile would dedicate himself to being a father, even if it didn't work out, however, you couldn't be more wrong. On many nights, the girl was only able to stop crying when she found her father, or afternoons became calmer when, while the two of you talked and made plans, little Ella was distracted by the piles of sand that her father was. capable of producing. Apart from the fact that he had decided to give a baby Bananawani as soon as she turned her first birthday or when he made a replica of the hook he had for the little girl, everything was going well in the relationship between the three of you.

Despite being your copy in terms of features, her personality was much more similar to her father - and she was extremely close to him. With a cunning capable of convincing everyone, it didn't take long for Ella to be able to soften even Daz's heart. There wasn't a thing the girl asked for that Crocodile's faithful partner wouldn't go after. Cross Guild mates were also victims of Ella. In this case, just one of them. Mihawk thought it was funny for someone so small to have such an irreverent stance as Crocodile, despite almost getting him expelled from the Cross Guild when he was caught letting Ella play - or at least try - to manipulate Yoru. As for Buggy, Ella preferred to keep her distance. One of the few things the girl couldn't deal with easily was the existence of clowns.

The scream of horror that crossed the corridor invaded your ears, as well as those of the other two men who were next to you. Recognizing the voice, you and Crocodile jumped to your feet, quickly heading to where you thought the source was. Arriving in the kitchen, Crocodile barely had time to balance himself when he saw Ella hugging his legs, looking for some kind of help.

"A monster daddy, a big monster." Crocodile picked her up and felt the girl's heart racing even with all the fabrics separating him from her skin. "He's right there."

"It's okay, sweetie." your voice reached her ears, which were practically the only possible point of contact. Her eyes were sunk into her father's shoulder, her small hands almost pierced the fabric of his overcoat.

"I have my suspicions about what this monster is." Mihawk, who you hadn't noticed following the two of you, spoke up. "And I agree with you Ella, it's a pretty ugly monster." the cynicism was clear in his voice.

"Look at your father, my little one." Crocodile asked and found two orbs damp with tears. "Was it a monster with an ugly, red nose?"

"You lizard, you don't talk about my nose." Buggy practically rolled out of the pantry, eliciting another scream from the girl who went back into hiding. "She who appeared out of nowhere here."

"He's harmless, Ella." you tried to catch her, but the girl refused to let go of her own father.

"She's in her house, she has the freedom to do whatever she wants." Crocodile's threatening tone didn't go unnoticed. "You know what awaits you, don't you, clown?"

"Hey, I didn't do anything." he grumbled, approaching you already knowing that Crocodile would scalp him soon. "Look here, pretty girl, Uncle Buggy is your friend."

"Everything is fine." you interrupted the clown, who only scared your daughter more. You knew that the two of them probably just bumped into each other in the kitchen, but little Ella's fear spoke louder in these moments. "You are not going to do anything." you muttered to Crocodile and turned to the clown in question. "And can you stop this, you're only scaring little Ella more."

"Let's get out of here, my little baby." your husband grumbled, turning his back and going in front, you couldn't make out exactly what he was saying, but he seemed to be trying to reassure Ella, who was just sniffling now.

The sniffles were replaced by a small laugh, when you looked to the side the reason made you laugh too. Mihawk had turned the blunt side of the sword and hit Buggy a few times, who grunted back.

"We don't scare little girls here, we only scare bad mariners." Mihawk repeated the gesture and you knew he wasn't using any of the full strength he had. "Don't scare little Ella."

The hawk's eyes blinked at the girl, who continued laughing - much to the reassurance of Crocodile, who was already thinking of methods to torture his fellow Cross Guild member. No one scared his little girl.

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #requests open #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #rob lucci #lucci x reader #lucci x you #crocodile x you #sir crocodile #crocodile x reader

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gallusrostromegalus · 2 years

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You don't think matcha is tea????

Matcha isn't a Tea in my humble Opinion.

Matcha is an experience.

The year is 2009, the place is the University of Hawai'i at Manoa in Honolulu, and I am recovering from a still-undiagnosed disease that left me with a 100+ degree for over three weeks, extreme weight loss and permanent Brain Damage. I have signed up for an introductory Art History class because I need an additional Humanities credit.

It's called "The History and Philosophy of the Japanese Tea Ceremony", and for a class I can only sort of remember, it stands out.

So I'm in professor Roberts' Japanese Tea Ceremony class, looking and feeling like death warmed over, but I'm genuinely interested in the subject matter and show up to every class because I have nothing better to do, and ask questions and turn in my homework, even if neither are particularly coherent at times, and rapidly become his favorite student. The thing I learned in public school was how to show up to events even if I don't want to, analyze tests and other written materials for patterns and charm educators by holding up my end of a conversation, skills that have served me in the modern world far more than learning actual course content would have.

The Tea Ceremony, historically, takes a good month to prepare and the entire evening to carry out- the guest list is curated to create social bonds and intellectual stimulation alike, a poem is composed for the season, and a seasonal flower arrangement created to decorate the space. When the guests arrive, they must all crawl through a small door to enter the tea garden, regardless of profession or rank. Hands are ritually washed in spring water, and there is a slow processional walk through the garden, to admire the artistry of the landscaping, and the composition of seasonal elements to create this particular night of beauty. The entire ceremony is about appreciating both the joy of existing right now, in this time and place, and the unification of the self and the universe and the endless cycles of nature.

The guests arrive at the tea house and meet the Tea Master, who will be making the Matcha that evening. The guests are seated in particular order, the Most Revered Guest- sometimes a high-ranking official, sometimes a visiting scholar or artist- is seated closest to the Tea Master. The Poem is read aloud. The Flowers are admired. The tools for making the Matcha are taken out, examined as objects of art, and their history told. The matcha powder itself is taken out- the case examined, the cultivation of the tea discussed, and only then does the Tea Master make the Tea.

Matcha is not brewed- it's a fine powder made of crushed green tea leaves, and the powder is whisked together with not-quite-boiling water in a bowl to create a much more substantial and flavorful drink. This drink is presented to the Most Revered Guest first, who is expected to take a sip and, in a moment of Zen spiritual clarity, comment on its flavor and how all the elements of the tea, art, garden and season all complement each other, and perhaps offer some sort of philosophical statement.

At least,

That's how it's supposed to go.

About a month before the spring semester is over, Professor Roberts announces that he has a surprise for his class- a good friend of his, a Professional Tea Master, will be visiting Hawai'i, and has agreed to perform a Tea Ceremony for our class! I am very excited. The other 10 people in class are varying levels of amiably confused to distressed by having to go to An Event (TM) for a grade, but agree. One of my classmates, an astrology hoe named Jessica, pointed out that with the 11 students, Professor Roberts, and the Tea Master, there will be 13 people present, which is basically inviting disaster.

"Jessica." Sighed Professor Roberts. "It's a Tea Ceremony. What disaster could happen?"

Despite Jessica's misgivings, Preparations for the ceremony went on. We learned about Ikebana while deciding on the Ceremonial Bouquet and tried our hands at it with what Professor Robert could get at the grocery store for $12. We learned about calligraphy and different types of poetic compositions while making the Seasonal Poem, and stain the hell out of the classroom carpet learning the brush strokes. We learn about different types of Matcha Bowl sculpting and glazing and we are not allowed to touch the demonstration bowls or the kiln because Professor Roberts was beginning to suspect that some of his students (me) were suffering from coordination issues. I apply myself with zeal, if not necessarily talent. I was, at the time, an Art Major, but my professors in the art department had been grading me on a secret "this bitch almost died last semester and is re-learning how to hold a pencil" curve, and boy howdy did I stumble and break leaves and splatter ink like it.

Despite my ongoing unmonitored recovery, Professor Roberts viewed my enthusiastic class participation with rose-colored glasses, and about a week before the ceremony we had a class where he brought out the used Kimonos and Obi and other forms of japanese dress he'd borrowed from the theater department so that we would be traditionally dressed(ish) and experience the ceremony authentically(ish). While people were trying on clothes to see what would fit, he took me aside and told me he wanted me to be in the position of Most Revered Guest, the person who makes the zen statement upon which the entire event hinges.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked.

"You're the only person who doesn't fall asleep in class and you talked about how the flowers stagger their blooms to not compete for the bees- you're perfectly engaged and conscious of the seasons!" He said, blindly. "You will need different shoes though." He indicated my flip-flops. "I won't make you learn how to walk in Geta, but nothing with Heels. Ballet flats are fine."

"...These are the only shoes I own." I said.

Professor Roberts stared at me.

"-I used to have a pair of sneakers but I think a homeless guy stole them while I was at the beach last month."

"What?" Roberts blinked.

"He probably needed them more than I do. I'll see if I can borrow some flats."

"...I don't think I've ever met a woman with less than 10 pairs of shoes." Said Roberts.

"I'm not a woman, I'm and undergrad." I said, still three years away from learning the term 'Nonbinary'. "Those are Jordan's only pair of shorts, you know." I pointed at my classmate, who had been wearing the one (1) pair of basketball shorts for the entire semester.

"I WASH THEM." Jordan shouted defensively, wearing the longest Men's Kinmo the theater department had, which barely came down to the top of his calves.

"Oh God." Said Roberts, a horrifying new world opening up to him like a tub of Expired sour cream.

It was the day of the Ceremony.

The Seasonal Theme we'd worked on was "The Turn Of Summer", and the weather was complying maliciously.

Normally, Tea Ceremonies are scheduled for the more temperate evening, but due to the school needing to host something in the adjoining cultural center later, we could only use the Tea Garden in the middle of the afternoon, and the summer sun was a sweltering 98 degrees and a similar level of Humidity. The Camelias were melting.

Where Jordan had difficulty finding a Kimono that suited his ent-like proportions, I'd had the opposite problem and the only Kimono short enough to not trip my Hobbit-sized self was a Child’s size. My roommate had helped me get into the Kimono and Obi before the ceremony, and leant me a pair of her Ballet Flats, but we discovered an issue- this Kimono was designed for a flat-chested prepubescent youth, and even though I barely scraped 5'0", I had the robust proportions of an Irish Peasant, and the only way to avoid displaying a frankly offensive amount of cleavage was to use the widest Obi we could find and sort of tuck my boobs into it.

"Hm" I said. "Kind of hard to breathe."

"Yeah, but you're sitting for most of it, right? It can't last more than an hour, so just like, shuffle and don't talk much?" She suggested.

To her credit, the first forty-five minutes of the ceremony only involved shuffling through the gardens and not talking while the Tea Master lectured us on some of the finer points of the garden's design.

But then we got to the Tea House- a small structure only barely able to accommodate the 13 of us, which was in the shade but hotter than the outside because of the roaring fire in the middle of the room, where the water for the Matcha was boiling. The room was surrounded by a narrow sort of porch, part of which hung over the Koi pond, where several massively overfed carp blurbled expectantly for treats at the arrival of humans. I sat down, legs folded under me like Professor Roberts had insisted, and realized that this pushed the Obi UP, and now my rib cage was being compressed in all directions.

I tried to pay attention to the rest of the ceremony, but two and a half hours is an awfully long time to listen about lecturers you've already heard when your body is undergoing a sort of internal horserace to see if the heatstroke, sciatica pain and numbness, allergies or suffocation-by-compression will cause you to pass out first. My legs had gone numb below the knee by the time we were done with the flower arrangement. My entire legs were numb before we were done with the Poem. By the time the Tea Utensils came out, I was seeing spots of colored light in my vision and could only breathe if I focused on it very, very hard.

But! The ceremony was genuinely interesting! and Professor Roberts was counting on me! So I did my best not to sway or throw up from watching the Tea Master whisk the Matcha, and dutifully took the bowl with a pair of hands that felt like slabs of ham that I was attempting to puppet from another dimension, and took a sip.

They say that Smell and Taste are far more closely connected to the emotional centers of the brain than any other sense, and I believe it because the instant I inhaled both the grassy, powdery smell, and tasted the moderately viscous bubbly liquid, I experienced an intense flashbulb memory back to a previous late May-

The Year was '98, the place was my elementary school art room, and we'd been using the seasonal hot weather to paint on a massive scale as the art dried quickly- each third-grader had been given a roll of butcher paper, a cheap brush, squirts of non-toxic paint and a water cup, and allowed to go hog-wild on our murals, and the rush of creative energy and the imminent sense of freedom as the semester drew to a close truly embodied the summer of youth, carefree but with an almost psychotic fervor, where lack of care was both freeing and dangerous as you lost track of your surroundings in the act of creation-

Which isn't a bad seasonal-philosophical connection statement to make, but the actual words that came out of my mouth were:

"Wow. This tastes exactly like paint."

The first sound I heard after the moment of silence was the cartoonishly loud gasp of horror from Professor Roberts, which was almost immediately drowned out by the thunderclap of laughter from the Tea Master, slapping his thighs and wiping tears from his face, unable to stop. I desperately tried to explain the connection between the fact I might be dying of heat stroke right now, and how I ended up drinking my paint water back in Mrs. Krantz's art class because back then I was also dying of heat stroke, but mostly ended up wheezing half-formed sentences as the rest of the class took sips and offered opinions varying between "Wow, that's thick. Like a Hot smoothie." and "Oh yeah, it tastes like summer. Like how a freshly-mowed lawn smells like summer." Professor Roberts slowly melted into a pile of shame, and the Tea Master slapped him on the back, still howling with laughter.

"They're honest! Nobody else will be honest! This is magnificent!" he wheezed.

Eventually, everyone had their taste, and the ceremony was concluded. The second the Tea Master had packed up his tools and stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, Professor Roberts was in my face.

"HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?" he hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. "GO APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW!" he shoved me out onto the porch where the Tea Master was looking at the Koi, who had started bubble-begging aggressively again.

Except that my legs felt like blocks of wood that my pelvis was renting from another planet where legs hadn’t been invented yet, my vision was entirely static between the dehydration and lack of oxygen, and my vestibuar system had fucked off an hour ago, leaving me to stay upright by purely by the virtue of the over-tightened Obi. So instead of bowing and apologizing profusely like my professor expected, what I actually did was stumble out of the room, say something like "Hsdfkf" and topple head-first into the koi pond.

Fortunately, the impact of the bottom of the pond with the top of my skull activated a sort of last-resort emergency self preservation system and I inhaled with enough force to break the Obi-Jime and probably a couple ribs from the pain that hit both my sides like lightning. Unfortunately, the thing I was inhaling was fish-shit riddled Pond Water, so my emergency self-preservation system ordered an even harder Exhale.

The Tea Master, to his immense credit, had immediately jumped in after me, and pulled me upright just in time for me to forcibly exhale half a gallon of rancid pond water directly into his face, then start screaming. Screaming is an extremely appropriate reaction to have when injured, because it alerts everyone that you require medical attention, but is very unpleasant to experience from four inches away, which is probably why he then immediately dropped me.

Fortunately the pond wasn't very deep and this time I sat there, scream-gasping as my lungs reinflated, Koi fish burbling and sucking at me with tremendous excitement, until the EMT from the campus clinic arrived, a vanguard before the actual ambulance.

"Okay uh. You're bleeding." he said, cautiously wading into the pond.

I opened my eyes to find that I had apparently acquired a large and profusely bleeding head wound, which had activated some long-suppressed Shark Instincts in the Koi, which were eagerly gumming at the streams of blood and trying to suck on my forehead. "Good thing they don’t have teeth." I said in the distant bliss that only zen masters and people with serious head injuries get to experience.

"Do you want a towel?" he asked, helping me up.

"No, this is rather refreshing, actually." I said, still absolutely smashed on endorphins, Koi still enthusiastically swarming at my kneecaps.

"I mean like for your-" the EMT Gestured Vaguely at my torso.

I looked down and realized that not only had I broken the Obi-jime, the entire Obi had come undone and was floating several feet away, and I was only wearing the Kimono, fallen completely off my shoulders and was only being prevented from performing a full Lady Godiva by the valiant efforts of the safety pin my roommate had put in to keep it folded correctly while we figured out the Obi.

"Professor Roberts?" I stood up all the way, soaking wet, bleeding from my forehead with such force as to create actual streams of blood down my face, neck and chest, tits out, and addressed the poor man standing, white-faced on the deck above the pond. "I don't think I'm going to be in class on Monday-" I paused to fish a small Koi that had gotten trapped in the remains of the now-ruined Kimono, and tossed it back into the pond. "-Can I schedule a make-up exam for the Final?"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GET IN THE AMBULANCE!" He screamed.

I was x-rayed for a skull fracture, but my lifelong membership to the Lactose Tolerance Club had protected me, and I happily texted my roommate to come pick me up as "They x-rayed my head and found nothing" while the doctor stitched part of my scalp back together.

The following morning, I discovered that Professor Roberts had graded my exam before I took it. 100%. Truly, the best way to get a good grade on your finals is to get a serious head injury.

So, Matcha is not a Tea, in my humble opinion.

Matcha is an Experience.

And sometimes that experience is drinking something almost exactly like paint, ruining an important cultural ceremony, traumatizing your professor, and introducing a bunch of fish to the taste of human flesh.

***

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#Family Lore #Tea Ceremony #Matcha #injury mention #blood mention

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glassrowboat · 5 months

Text

Morning After

Authors note: This includes a variety of my own headcanons on these characters. The reader is gender neutral. This includes only the male harbingers, but I am willing to write one for the chicks too ^^

Capitano.

-The instant you stirred in your sleep, just the slightest twitch, and you were pinned to the mattress with a looming figure above you. His black hair tickled your skin, swaying back and forth from the sudden movement, but that was barely a concern when this man who had been so sweet with you last night was suddenly acting like a switch that flipped off in his brain. All you could tell was one discernable thing after the sudden surprise: there was no escape if he didn't want there to be.

-”Capitano?” You called out, voice hesitant and barely a whisper as fear choked back the ability to speak confidently.

-Immediately the tense nature that had over taken his form fell, shoulders no longer strung together as that soldier who had been pinning you down held you close and started apologizing for startling you.

-He didn't have to say it, he didn't want to, bit for a moment there the Captain had mistaken you for someone that crept into his chambers with ill intent. He's a soldier. War is what he's known for. This caution just comes with the territory.

-To make up for his own actions he makes sure you're well fed, given a hearty breakfast (one a little too big for you to fully eat but he doesn't mind giving you some Tupperware to take it home in) and tea.

-It's just he's a terrible conversationalist, barely talking as he just nods along to whatever you say, making you carry the flow the entire morning as he adds in an occasion “yes, interesting, or no.”

-At least he's handsome under that helmet.

Childe.

-Fell off the bed the moment he saw you, a shout falling from his lips from the surprise of the fall and well, this naked person in his bed.

-Why he didn't expect you to wake up and throw a pillow at his head for being so darn loud when you have a hangover? Well, only Celestia knows. Though he didn't bother to block it, simply accepted getting hit as it didn't even knock him back.. well that is if he didn't play along and dramatically fell down onto the floor.

-”Are you always such a drama queen?”

-”A guy can't play along with a joke?”

-Very sweet, but a little bit annoying as he asks about you in as many questions he can think of. What's your favorite color? What's your job?

-Admittedly Childe has never had a one night stand before so he doesn't know what to do in this position so when you give him a sweet smile and tell him to just to let you get dressed for now he goes to get a stray shirt for you.

-Definitely wants to see you again, and not just in the bedroom.

-”So where do you come from?”

-”Give me five minutes for fucks sake.”

Dottore.

-First off, what? He's aware each harbinger has their own little dedicated fan club, even him…for some reason. Yet for him to willingly bring someone, possibly one of them, to his bed? People aren't allowed in his personal quarters. Hell, he barely uses it himself, opting to sleep on that one couch in the laboratory. So why the switch in his normal behavioral patterns?

-(I personally see Dottore as a virgin so for this dweeb to lose it this way-)

-Admittedly, he's on edge from trying to remember what happened, the haze of sleep, and the shock of seeing someone he apparently trusted enough to bring to bed. It only made sense he was scowling at this sleeping body. It wouldn't be easy enough to just call it a new test subject, use the sheets as restraints to drag this stranger down to his lab and shove them in a cell but..

-Maybe not this time.

-Instead he gets up and throws on some clothes as quickly as possible, making sure to slot his mask in place despite the fact you have very obviously already seen what lies underneath. That and more.

-It has proven more useful than not to use that thing to hide his expressions.

- Depending on if he drank last night and that's what had him indulging in the warmth of another person's body, Dottore would have one of his clones stand by until you wake up. They can deal with the situation from there and take you home while he gets some caffeine in his body. An easy way to rid of a hangover and forget his newfound company.

-If it was a completely sober decision, Dottore no longer has the excuse that he simply got ahead of himself from the drink and would therefore be hostile in response. Unable to put up with this one bit, he would be telling his bed partner to get dressed and head home already so he can get back to work instead of watching over pointless little you.

-Don't try and say anything about possibly being emotionally attached, it would only anger him. Boy is not used to being open or vulnerable with anyone and you suddenly appearing and having held him so close last night would only set him off in the worst of ways.

Pantalone.

-First thing this man notices is he's just not as comfy as usual, somehow this mattress isn't right, he isn't sinking into the soft plush he spent thousands on. Not even his haze of grogginess was enough to make tossing and turning twist his body into comfort. (Goldilocks having motherfucker). So with a steady hand he reaches out to find his glasses on the nightstand, silver chains rattling on the surface as he pulls them close.

-A one night stand isn't an uncommon thing to the regrator, for him it's happened a small handful of times before but it's never something he's typically the better for in the morning. A man of his position caught slinking into a woman's bedroom as they drunkenly grope at eachother was far from a good look. Not to mention you never knew if the individual would keep their mouth shut.

-That has been a problem with one particular individual in the past that has henceforth been ‘dealt with.’

-But the person laying besides him was still conked out and wrapped in a good majority of the blankets the bedding had to offer. Well, a bit of a thief aren't they? Pantalone almost wanted to laugh but kept his mouth sealed shut, already knowing it's best not to wake you.

-Slowly he got up and out of the bed, trying to keep it from creaking too loudy, to put on last night's clothes. He'll take a shower and get changed into something clean later.

-With one last peak towards the stranger he spent the night with Pantalone slipped out of the front door.

Pierro.

-He's confused.

-Now he understands what happened, the sight of you naked and curled up into him is more than enough to make that clear; though your underwear basically on his favorite pillow definitely would have gotten the point across either way. But, like, him? You who look so much younger, livelier compared to what Pierro sees in the mirror every day after five hundred years haunting him.

-Maybe that joke the second made about people liking ‘older folks’ was based on reality.

-Would greedily allow himself to hold you in his arms for a time. It started with him first saying one minute, that's all he'd allow himself. Then that turned into five, then ten, then twenty. Eventually he would barely wish to nudge you awake even though he knows better.

-Don't go getting attached when there's so much left to do.

-When he finally did wake you up he did his best to make sure you wouldn't get startled, softly calling out the name he was given last night. It's just a shame you do, startling as your hand nearly wacked his face from sheer shock. (Though who can blame you? It's not everyday you blearliy open your eyes, vision still blurry as you take in a man with white hair and stars in his- wait is that the fucking Pierro? Oh fuck).

-The type to help you find your clothes and call for a cab so he knows you get home safely.

-Now all that's left is trying to figure out how to hide the hickey you planted on him.

Scaramouche.

-Let's be real here, you're not making it to the morning.

-He had no clue why he was allowing this, allowing a humans lips to fall to his own with such fevered need. In any other situation he'd be pushing them off, telling this person they're a useless worm that shouldn't ever have walked these lands if all they was going to do was use their life to paw at him. Oh but to worshipped was a delight.

-Kisses pressed to the wooden skin of his puppet body like small prayers to the God he will one day be. This is what humans are made for, aren't they? To give their all to a greater being. So readily Scaramouche let himself be tugged along as you pulled him to wherever you pleased, ready to lavish in the attention he so rarely got.

-A human isn't a threat after all.

-Yet when you tugged on his short, pulling them down just low enough for your mouth to eagerly await something filling it, everything took a turn for the worst.

-”Wait a minute, you don't have genitals?”

-And in a heartbeat you were struck with a bolt of lightning that had you dead on the spot.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #hoyoverse #x reader #capitano x reader #capitano #childe x reader #dottore x reader #Pantalone x reader #pierro x reader #scaramouche x reader #dottore #pantalone #childe #tartaglia x reader #gn reader #headcanons #banner by cafekitsune

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