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fanaticsnail · 3 months

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When You Had The Chance

Masterlist Here.

Word Count: 3,830

Plot: Serving as first mate to the Buggy-Pirates, it was your job to keep your captain grounded and uplifted. When tempers flared, he decided to confront his childhood rival once and for all - pulling out all the stops to finally lay their feud to rest. Crew against crew, Captain against Captain, First-Mate against First-Mate - will you win, or lie at the mercy of the man you once loved. The man you will always love.

Themes: Angst, pining, war, fighting, guns, blades, blood, unrequitted love, age-gap (19-37, 23-41, 32-50: Maths made me work today) f!reader, pet-name used, enemies to friends to enemies to lovers.

Song Suggestions: Let Me Down Slowly, She Used to be Mine

Tag List: @sordidmusings, @writingmysanity, @gingernut1314, @feral-artistry,

Destruction, chaos, blood and bones litter the splintered hull of the ship. The air was tinted with the scent of cinders, flint and ignited powders. Another cannon struck the top-mast, this time severing the link and reducing it to shredded planks. Everything was happening both too fast and too slow. Buggy was flying through the air, untameable as the sea and as chaotic as the storm rocking the ship against the thrashing waves.

A clap of lightning cut the sky, the sound of rumbled beaten-drum thunder reverberated and shook against your rapidly reducing vessel. You shook your nerves away from your hands and leapt into the air, holding your breath as you propelled yourself onto the enemy vessel.

You had no idea that a night of drinking and reminiscing with your captain and crew would lead you here. It started with ale, pale to start and ending with stout. Then you switched to ports and honey-mead to cleanse the palate and continue the merriment. Music, lividity, gaiety was where you started - singing heartily to the shanties of old.

And then they brought out the ouzo.

Ouzo, your one weakness, had memories spiraling and your heart swelling in love-stricken grief. It started with each of you recounting your places at the time of Gol D Rogers execution. Buggy could barely choke back his tears, almost coherent with words he left unspoken as he witnessed his heart stop as a fifteen year old. You confessed you were in a place you knew you shouldn't, a child of barely eight witnessing the death of someone you had adored from afar as king of your kind.

From listening to the recounts of the crew, anger began to fester below the surface. Tales of how Captain Shanks ruined the life of your beloved clown had your heart beating heavier - swelling with the thinning blood infused with a high percentage of alcohol. You had only then begun to uproot the prior stifled feelings regarding the redheaded captain’s first mate.

You thought you repressed them enough, compartmentalized enough. But the bile began to form behind your lips as your heart jumped into your throat as the memories found themselves within the forefront of your eyes.

He had every right to turn you down. You respect him more for it now than you did back then, that was for certain. You were barely nineteen, making a name for yourself as one of the most nimble-footed, light fingered thieves in the east blue. “Get in, get on with it, get it done, and get out,” was your motto; and a motto you managed to execute with the highest amount of competency and skill.

Stealing from a red-haired captain? An easy task you were commissioned to do. Having your heart stolen from your chest, lungs compressed of all its oxygen as your eyes met with the steel gaze of the first mate? Not something you had ever accounted for. But you fell first, and you fell hard.

You disregarded your mission, bullied the captain immediately to take you under his wing aboard the red-force and served with them for little over four years. In those four years, your heart was longing, craving affection from the first mate. Yassop gave you hell for it. Lucky Roux attempted to join in on the teasing - only for you to teach them both a lesson by misplacing and claiming objects very near and dear to them.

Each time you set to dock at port, you witnessed the love of your life take another to his bed. You drew attention yourself, and easily took a fling here and there. But in doing so, you were always longing to be the one chosen good enough - special enough - to warm the sheets beside Benn Beckman. To be the face he’d lie next to in the night, and the smile he awoke to in the morning.

At twenty three, you confessed. A night not unlike the one here amongst the red-hair pirates had you singing, swaying and dancing to the fingerpicking of a guitar. Ouzo drove your words, an apprehensive and innocent smile dancing on your lips as the warm alcohol flushed your cheeks. You laid it all out for him; from the moment your eyes first met, to the way you altered your entire life for the opportunity to be by his side - you risked it all at the beachfront fireside with the crack of warm flames dancing in your eyes.

As you leant in to place a soft kiss against his lips: he turned away from you with his eyes tightly shut. His hand clapped over your shoulder, as he kept you an arms length away and reopened his eyes.

“Darlin’, I’m flattered,” His voice drawled, brows furrowed in a deep frown as he held his eyes away from yours, “But I’m a little old for someone like you.”

Someone like you.

That phrase had all thoughts sour, all emotions and tempers running high as you hastily sprung to your feet and marched back towards the Red Force. Knowing now what you knew then, he had every right to turn you down as you confessed to him. You were young, a fool only in love; never unsound in mind.

Was that how all of the crew thought of you? An infatuated, love-sick, and thieving child following blindly the orders of your captain, under the watchful eyes of a first mate you’d come to love? You gave up everything to be by his side; your career long since forgotten as you worked yourself to the bone for the chance to be on the receiving end of a small smile from him.

You hastily packed your belongings, leaving no trace nor whisper you had ever served among this crew, and crept back into the shadows where you once more found yourself again. Thriving in the reignition of your skillset, you had managed to acquire a fair amount of wealth for yourself. Feeling in a celebratory mood after a successful solo heist, your eyes met with the hunched over figure of a sad clown.

Feeling content and pleased with yourself, you decided to buy him a drink. And then another.

And then you decided to join him for one.

When you met Buggy, you knew this was the crew you were always meant to serve with. Your skills as a thief had you perform in his circus as his prized assistant. His coy volunteer within the stands, his enchanting assistant showcasing his grandeur, his leading lady in the ring - his loyal First-Mate as he made a name for himself through fame and fortune. Never once did you feel the desire to romance the clown, keeping the need to express such feelings for another hidden well below the surface, but you loved him as one ever could love an older sibling who acted like the younger.

After slamming down your upturned, empty shot glass for the umpteenth time; you lulled your head atop his shoulder and nonchalantly raised your voice in question.

“What if we just,” your speech slurred as you looked over the back of your nails, “killed him?”

“Killed who, Doll? Who we killing?” Your captain asked, looking over your head to nod in appreciation of your painted fingernails.

“Shanks. The Red-Hair pirates. All of them.”

Buggy leant down into your ear, holding his glazed over eyes and a rumbled growl of anxiety laden excitement purred against your skin.

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

And this is where your booze-filled suggestion had you. Rifles drawn, cutlasses brandished and fists meeting flesh as you tore each other into ribbons of littered and battered skin. Teeth gnashing, throats growling and brows furrowing; the tension was being cut with layers of destruction. Two crews you had served with, the former being on the winning side of the fight as the latter began to perish. Your current crew were being annihilated, only very few remaining now standing as the Big Top was slowly sinking beneath the icy-cold water.

As another cannonball was fired from the end of an iron circlet, you fell to a crouched position and barely managed to cover your ears to stifle the ringing within. As you withdrew your ears and turned, you opened your eyes to a sight you never thought you would see again.

Facing down the barrel of a rifle, your eyes first met with the cold circlet of doom pointing at your head. You smelt the warm familiarity of tobacco first, your heart pounding harder than it ever did within the battle prior.

Glancing up past the barrel, you met with the cold and calculated stare of the first-mate of the red hair pirates. His eyes were wide and wild, his lips curled back into a grimace with the grinding of teeth, before the cruel twist of fate had his eyes stagger under recognition.

The warm hot flush of angry tears began to sting at the corners of your eyes as they continued to bear into his - his own raw emotion being depicted on his own face.

Beckman’s heart stopped, his breath hitched and cigarette fell from his parted lips as his jaw fell slack. Never once had you reached out. Not after all this time did he know you were even alive, let alone serving amongst the rival crew of the one you had come to know prior. He never should’ve let you leave - not like that. Not knowing how he truly felt for you and choosing to restrain himself from your alcohol-induced confession.

He loved you. He loved you so desperately, he could not see his life complete without you. And when you severed from the crew and left no trace, Beckman became a shell of a man he once was. Faking smiles, forcing laughter, joining himself with pleasurable company no longer on his agenda as all he could picture was your face. Your eyes: filled with such sorrow at his rejection, that was all he came to see behind his closed eyes as he lay to sleep.

"You gonna shoot me, Becks? Is that what it all comes down to?" Your taunt broke him away from his looping thoughts, his battletorn face alert to the woman he had come to long for. Your sinister and malicious smile was never something he ever foresaw being on the receiving end of, and it startled him.

"I don't want to, Darlin'. But if it'll stop you from fightin’ us and leaving with the clown again, I'll see it done,” he responded, clicking back the ignition on his beloved pistol.

The roars of battle fleeing from the lips of your Captain, his malicious cackles of rage-filled laughter hurtling towards Red Haired Shanks. Echoes of taunts and insults hurled into the air regarding the betrayal of one captain against another, all of which were met by an uproar of apologies from your former captain as he blocked every assault thrown his way.

Although you were a faithful first-mate, knowing it was your role to serve and protect your captain, you were struck down by your own swollen emotions within your heart. No longer filled with the taste and hindrance of alcohol, your once hidden thoughts and emotions began to swell of their own accord in front of the silver-haired first-mate.

You couldn't tear your eyes from Beckman’s, unable to break the spell of longing you felt for him. After all these years, he was still the man your heart cried for in the lonely hours of the night, as you lay in crew quarters aboard the enemy’s ship. The first man you ever loved. The man you would always love. The man who still held the pointed tip of a gun at your head as you scowled into his face, masking the pain his absence had drawn to you.

His eyes, his hair, his soul: all once held secret and safe with your adoration for him protected and refused to be spoken. Those words turned to broken mirrors, refracting light away from your eyes as they held firm against his own.

"You going to cut me down just like that? I thought you were a man far more dignified than all that," you huffed with a humorless laugh. His jaw clenched tightly shut, his eyes narrowing at you as you snarled at him beneath the barrel of his gun.

"And I never thought I'd see you again, let alone blindly serving the enemy,” He growled, dragging his eyes over your war torn clothes and battleshaken face for any semblance of injury.

Another cry from the clown in rage had your ears pricking at the sound, but eyes fixed on the expressions the man in front of you were holding. You saw the masking emotions slip, his eyes begin to glaze as your own mask dropped completely.

After all this time, he was still the man you loved. You loved him so desperately, so deeply, that you almost forgot the reason you were here in the first place.

He dropped his gun from your head and fell to his knees in front of you, reaching down his left hand to seek out your chin and cradle it beneath his thumb and index finger. You keep your eyes fixed on his as you allow the luxury of a hot tear to roll down your cheek, gritting your teeth in wordlessly reprimanding yourself for such an action.

“Benn,” the whisper of his name from your mouth had his body surge towards you, taking your lips beneath his in a long, bruising kiss.

His left hand removed itself from your chin to take your cheek into it, his right hand circling your waist as he cradled you against himself. You whimpered against his lips, feeling everything you had once felt for him simmer and boil to the surface.

You clenched your eyes tightly shut, brows furrowing as he reflected everything you had tangibly felt in yearning for him for all of these years. You felt the stubble of his chin scrape against yours, the taste of his final cigarette on his tongue as he deepened the oscillation. He growled as you finally gave in, hooking your right arm over his shoulder and placing your left hand atop his right cheek. You felt the etchings of his healed over scar dancing beneath your fingertips, an angry whisper of a tear leaking down to press against your thumb.

"Please don't leave with him. I couldn't bear the thought. Stop all of this,” he whispered against your lips, “Please stay,” he uttered, breaking the kiss to brace you against his body, “Stay with me on the Red Force. Serve Shanks once more. Please . I'll do anything-."

At that, you circled your chin around, breaking the embrace while rotating your hips away from him. You danced your body around his, placing a firm kick to the side of his head; successfully knocking the first-mate of the Red-Hair pirates to the ground and rising to your feet in one swift movement.

Benn was on his side, staring up at you with a mixture of shock, fury and pride.

"Good bye, Benn. You should've shot me when you had the chance."

At that, you ran fast as your feet could carry you towards your blue-haired captain. You quickly sought him out as he lay punch after punch against the face and torso of red-haired Shanks, who looked to just be sitting there and taking them. He easily could defend himself and thwart the rage of the clown by pushing him backwards into the sea water, but he just stood and took everything Buggy was throwing at him.

Buggy, your beautiful captain, was crying. Hot and angry tears were pouring without any semblance of stopping, as fatigue from the fight slowed down his rage-filled hits. His white gloves were stained red with the blood of the man who betrayed him, a man who appeared to be whispering in a voice so low only Buggy could hear it.

Your sprint drew you close, just off to the side as the punches slowed to a lull; Buggy’s shoulders shaking as he continued to sob.

“It’s okay, Buggy,” Shanks whispered, allowing another hit to land against his chest, “It’s okay. Everything is okay.” Buggy’s head hung low, his knuckles pressed firmly against Shanks’ torso as he continued to cry into the air.

Shanks hooked an arm over his shoulders, pressing Buggy’s sweat-smeared forehead against his own, as he embraced him with his battered remaining arm. Shanks’ eyes were closed and a whisper of a boyish smile was stuck to his face as Buggy’s sobs began to shake violently under his arm.

“I’m sorry, Buggy. I’m so, so sorry,” Shanks whispered, nuzzling his head against Buggy’s as he drew his head into his chest. Buggy’s eyes continued to remain wide and unblinking as he stiffened in the embrace.

You felt the presence of both the Red-Hair and the Buggy-Pirates at your side; battered, bruised and broken as they watched their captains embrace against one another.

“You can keep hitting me if you want,” Shanks smiled, placing his chin atop the blue hair of the captain you serve, “But know I’ll never hate you. I’d rather die.”

You felt an overwhelming sense of both panic and relief as Buggy circled his arms around Shanks’ waist and buried his head into his chest. Sobs from the clown and laughter from the redhead began to echo against the deck of the ship, confusing all those surrounding.

“Lay down your arms, boys,” Beckman’s voice rumbled from your side, prompting you to freeze in place. To your surprise, the Red-Hair pirates sheathed their swords and disarmed their pistols. Silence aside from the whimpers from your captain in the arms of your former were the only sounds gracing your ears, until they met with the flick of a lighter and a deep inhale of a cigarette.

You looked over to the silver-haired man beside you, watching as he took the back of his hand and wiped the small trickle of blood from your prior kick from his lips.

“And bring out some Ouzo, would you, Roux?” Beckman’s eyes upturned. You watched as that smile you so desperately craved began to draw up onto the lips of the man you loved, causing your heart to swell.

“Me and this one got a lot to talk about,” he stooped down, resting his forehead against your own as his charming smile began to grow, “Don’t we, Darlin’?”

The battle died down, your current and former captains sitting together in the middle of a table of the tavern as the Red-Force tethered and chaperoned the Big-Top into port. You were sitting at the bar, refusing to acknowledge any member of your former crew, nor your current. Cabaji and Yasopp were heavily engaged in a dart-throwing competition at the far end of the tavern; Roux and Mohji were talking about food in heavy detail, with Richie curled up at their feet.

And Beckman was sitting atop the barstool beside you, patiently watching and waiting for you to engage him in conversation. You continued to sit in silence, sipping at the small glass of ouzo first before downing the liquid and signaling for another.

“Someone like you,” you mocked him, tutting out a venomous reprimand before throwing back another shot of the burning, liquorice-flavored liquid as soon as it was placed in front of you, “Darlin’ this, Darlin’ that.”

“Is that what this was about?” Beckman chuckled, leaning his elbow on the bar as he took his cheek beneath his fist, “After all this time, you think-.”

“-You know what, Benn? Fuck you,” you spat, turning from him and signalling for the bartender to leave the remainder of the bottle, “Fuck you and your stupid ‘someone like you’, Benn. You should be so lucky, you arrogant prick-.”

Your words were stifled by the firm grip pulling at the back of your hair, immediately molding his lips over your own in a long, passionate kiss. He circled his chin, parted his lips and claimed more of your heart with each brush-stroke of the portrait he painted against your mouth. He bullied you, bruised you with his intensity; cradling you against his body with each motion he made with his lips.

Wolf-whistles and cat-calls were thrust into the air by the two pirate crews once sworn in hatred, now allies. Benn smiled against your lips, continuing to press more of himself into you before he broke away from claiming you against his mouth.

“Someone like you,” Beckman whispered, his breath tickling your lips with the former memory, “Someone as young as you. Someone as stunning as you. Someone that could have any man they wanted fall on their knees and beg for you to send a single look their way.” Your breath hitched, eyes wide at his confession.

“Is that what you’re doing, Benn?” your eyes dropped to his lips, processing every word relayed onto you, “Begging?”

“Pleading,” he confessed further before he claimed another kiss from your lips that ended as briefly as it began. You allowed the small break of a smile chip and whittle away against your prior stoic and aggressive demeanor.

“Why didn’t you say so when you had the chance?” you asked him, shaking your head at him and drawing up your palm to cradle his cheek within its warmth. He closed his eyes, leaning into the small gesture and kissed your palm.

“I wanted you to have the chance to do better, Darlin’,” he uttered, placing his hand atop yours and withdrawing it from his face, “Better than me.” You sought out his meaning behind his gray orbs and clicked your tongue at him.

“Why would I ever have wanted anyone else?” you whispered, shaking your head at him. He chuckled, turning back and poured two glasses of the burning, translucent liquid into the shot glasses.

“A guy like me doesn’t get someone like you,” he sighed, his smile still present as he downed his ouzo, “Someone like you goes for someone like Shanks.” He poured himself another and danced his glass rim against yours remaining unclaimed atop the bar. You took the hint and raised your glass within your hand, rolling your eyes at his comment.

“Someone like me changed their life to follow someone like you,” you quipped in return, downing the liquid and placing your glass back atop the bar, prompting Benn to do the same. “I gave up everything I was for you, Benn. I wanted you,” you took the neck of the bottle and began pouring the liquid into both of the glasses, “And I still do.”

“After all that fighting?” he asked, nudging you with his shoulder, “You still want me, Darlin’?” You sighed, a smile dancing on your lips as the crew around continued their merriment and conversations.

“Of course I do.”

#one piece #opla #x reader #opla fic #one piece live action #buggy #shanks #benn beckman x reader #benn beckman #benn beckman op #benn x reader #beckman x reader

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stinkysam · 7 months

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Buggy the Clown - So no head ?

Warning : nsfw, mouth fucking

Genre : smut

Synopsis : "One thought that won't get out of my head about Buggy, in the scene where he keeps annoying everyone/scaring Usopp while he's making explosives, what if the reader decides to "give the guys a break from the annoying clown" by going on a walk with him, but really it's just an excuse to get some time alone with Buggy and uhh get some head, pun intended ;) Bonus points if reader promises to return the favor once Buggy gets his body back." -anon

Reader : male (he/you)

A/N : Part TWO

-cis women dni-

Today had been a tough day for the clown. Spending most of it in a sandy bag or with unfriendly captors.

"Hey ! Morning champ !" Buggy laughed as Zoro arrived.

"I know Luffy made a deal with you to find Arlong, clown, but if this is another one of your tricks-" Zoro warned.

"What are you gonna do ? Bleed on me ?" The clown said, laughing again before Zoro grabbed him by his bandana to hold him above the sea, ready to throw him out.

"Whoa, whoa, wait, whoa, whoa, whoa ! What ! Because I said bleed on me ? You can bleed on me if you want ! I mean, a deal's a deal, all right ? You want your map back, I want my bodyyy." He quickly spat, laughing once more.

"How do we know you're not leading us to a trap ?"

"Zoro, buddy, honors amongst pirates, right ? C'mon I can sing a nice sea shanty to pass the time ! Ooh there once was a girl with tangerine hair," unbothered Zoro moved back toward the barrel. "Stole my map and left me stranded somewhere, truly a crafty and crooked young lass," Usopp opened it for Zoro to put him inside. "But you can't deny she had a spectacular- Aw ! Right on my nose !" He yelled as he fell inside the barrel before Zoro closed it.

If only it had stopped there. But soon he was put back in the dark and humid sandy bag. Ew. Really ? Couldn't you or someone on the crew dry it a bit ? He's not asking for cushions and blankets, you could at least put him somewhere not sandy. No ? Ugh. Boor.

Then, later, his abuse, as he would call it, continued.

He watched as Usopp worked on his explosives, hands shaking as focused to not spill anything.

"Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, BOOM !!" The clown yelled, laughing as Usopp jumped, along with everyone in the room.

"Yeah I'm gonna get some air." Nojiko announced as you watched her leave.

"Can you just… be quiet ?" Asked Usopp, hoping to get some peace. He was clearly stressing out of his mind.

"Aw, come on. Where's the fun in that ?" The clown teased, enjoying himself as Usopp's hands shook more. "Do you really think your little toys can get through the skin of a fishman ?" He asked quietly, his eyes never leaving him.

"These are smoke bombs."

"Smoke ? That's rich… Makes me think of how long it's been since I've had any smoked fish." He gulped, imagining the taste in his mouth. God, he was so hungry.

"Maybe if you guys had some extra ?" He looked at Sanji. "Please ?"

You watched them, waiting for any of them to get him something but none moved.

"Ah, screw you guys ! Arlong's gonna bite the shit out of you anyway ! You know you don't stand a chance against him and his army. And you dumb pieces of garbage, you ain't gonna do anything against that stupid- mmhf mh" before he could continue Sanji had pushed a full tangerine in the clown's mouth, shutting him up efficiently.

"New guy shuts up the clown head."

Buggy tried to cough it out, to say something but couldn't, struggling with the fruit in his mouth.

"Okay, enough." You said, getting up from the table and pulling the tangerine out of Buggy's mouth, ignoring Sanji's and Usopp surprised stare.

"Puh ! Thanks handsome." He said with a wink, clicking his tongue after stretching his jaw.

"Let me take care of him. You're coming with me."

"I'm gonna eat ?" Buggy said with wide excited eyes before squinting them at you.

"Kinda."

"What are you planning ? What's your deal." He asked, suspicious. All of the strawhats avoided him, already annoyed by him before even having said something, even the new guy couldn't stand him anymore and suddenly one of them was down to keep him ?

Smells like bullshit to Buggy.

"Yeah, [Name]. What's up ?" Usopp asked, no longer focused on his explosives.

"You guys are clearly on your toes around him for whatever reasons so I'll keep him, I don't care."

"Whatever reason ?" Repeated Sanji.

"Why ? [Name]." Usopp asked, confused.

You shrugged.

"I like him. He's fun."

"You hear that boys ? I'm fun ! Clearly a taste you lack."

"He's fun ?" Repeated Usopp, frowning. Really, he wasn't getting it.

Buggy smiled and laughed loudly as Zoro walked back inside with Luffy.

"What's going on ? Why is it laughing like that ?" Zoro asked.

"It ?" Buggy said, immediately stopping laughing.

"[Name] wants to keep the head." Usopp immediately answered, speaking over the clown.

"[Name] said he likes him." Sanji added, making you scoff. These two…

"Look at him, he's all cute." You said, grabbing his head to rub your cheek against his. You and Buggy smiled together awkwardly with your teeth showing, wide eyed, as if you were trying to smile for the first time ever. Was that your way of trying to be convincing ?

Zoro and Sanji raised an eyebrow while Luffy and Usopp tilted their heads to the side.

"C'mon, guys, he has nobody, no body and stayed in a sandy bag, I would've been bored out of my mind as well. And pissy as fuck."

"He gets me !" Buggy said. A little bit more and there'd be fake tears as well. "And I'm not pissy ! I'm angry and hungry, I haven't eaten in-"

"Can't believe you're taking his side." Zoro simply said, ignoring him, crossing his arms.

"Well, call me too empathetic because I'm gonna care for the sad clown."

"Don't ignore me ! And I'm not a sad clown ! But I'm about to be ! Do you know the last time I ate something ?!"

Zoro hummed while looking at you, still ignoring him, he clearly wanted to say something more but deciding against it. He rolled his eyes and walked away. If you wanted hell then, who was he to stop you from getting it.

"Hey ! Stop ignoring me !"

You turned to face Buggy's head, he had a toothy smile, clearly forced and awkward.

"Don't overdo it or you go back in the sand bag."

"Ugh." Buggy grumbled, his smile falling, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Where are we going ?" He asked as you carefully held him up.

"Outside."

"Ah ?"

"I'm going to teach you how to be quiet." You said with a grin, ignoring your friends' confused stare. What did you mean by that ?

Buggy raised an eyebrow before a smirk invited itself on his face.

"Oh yeah ? And how are you gonna do that ?" He said as you exited the house.

You walked a bit, not too far from the house in case they still needed you but enough to be out of earshot and stopped. You sat down and placed Buggy next to you as you grabbed a tangerine.

He watched you, staring intently as you peeled it. Getting rid of the small white strings on it and opening it in small pieces.

"Here." You said pushing one piece against his lips, waiting for him to open his mouth. "This isn't smoked fish but that'll feed y-" you didn't have the time to finish your sentence that he was already eating it up.

"Don't care !" He said in between bites.

Buggy sighed as you made him eat the fruit, finally putting something in his belly after a couple days of not eating. It wasn't much but at least it was something.

"Hey, that's mine !" He yelled as you took a bite, the fresh juice flooding your mouth.

"My hands feed who they want. And right now, they wants to feed me."

"Oh come on ! I've been good ! Sweetheart !?"

"Okay, okay. You've been good." You said, patting his head as he tried to move it away.

You pushed the piece of tangerine back against his lips and he wasted no time eating it. Fearing you would take it away.

"I just wanted a taste, I'm not gonna steal it from you." You said with a small laugh.

"Coming from the person who stole my map, that's rich."

"Your map ?" You looked at him, amused at how he still called it his when it never was to begin with. But before he could retort, you pushed another piece of tangerine in his mouth. He glared at you, debating whether he should try to bite you or not.

"Why are you feeding me anyway ? Not that I'm complaining." He watched you eat another bit of the fruit, sucking the juice in before chewing it.

"Told you. I like you." You said nonchalantly as you poked his forehead. One of his eyes twitched.

"Like me, huh ?" He couldn't believe you.

"Yeah you're cute." You continued, without hesitation as you smiled at him. He stared at you and for a second he was glad his body wasn't there or he would've fallen into pieces at your comment. He tried to regain his composure, clearing his throat and looking away while you still stared at him.

"I don't know if I would call myself cute bu-"

"Why wouldn't you ?"

Your question caught him off guard as he looked up at you. The answer seemed obvious though. His nose. Big round red nose right in the middle of his face. Hello ?

But he wouldn't tell you that. He's not gonna open up to you -or anyone- in the middle of no-fucking-where.

You grabbed his head so you would be face to face and tilted your head.

"Why wouldn't you be cute ?" You repeated. You had to be fucking with him. He chewed the inside of his cheeks, unsure of what to say or do. If he was more than a head he'd push you away but right now he couldn't do that. Only able to stare at you and be glad his heart is too far away for you to hear it beat loudly.

"You seemed upset when Luffy tried to touch your nose, is it about that ?" You finally asked and he looked at you with wide eyes. You better be careful with your words becau-

"I think it's a really cute nose." You said with a grin. "I like red."

That's… not what he had expected. Usually people laugh or grimace at his nose, they don't look at it as if it's… a good thing ? He blinks several time. He wants to retort something mean but nothing comes to mind.

"Can you put me down ?" He asks instead. You hum and do as asked, placing him back next to you.

You continued to give him the tangerine, taking a bite every now and then.

"Aahh" He opened his mouth, waiting for you to give him the last bit. You gave it to him and he thanked you while chewing it, glancing your way awkwardly. Shit, now he didn't know what to say.

"I'm not gonna give you head."

"What ?" You laughed, unable to believe you heard him right.

"Just because you fed me and complimented me doesn't mean you'll get to fuck me."

"Aw, bummer, I was looking to it." You said, still smiling.

"Well. You won't. Plus I'm just a head, so…"

"Buggy. Head." You said staring at him, hoping he'd get it.

"Yeah ? And ?"

"You're exactly what's required to give head. A head. Literally." You said and he stared at you.

"I'm still not gonna give it to you !"

"I wasn't asking ! I was just saying !"

"Aah !" He yelled, frustrated with the conversation and you laughed. "Let's stop talking about it !"

You nodded and stayed silent, your lips still curved into a smile. A minute or two passes before he talks again.

If he had a body, he'd be tapping his feet and pacing.

"Fuck now I can't stop thinking about it." He grumbled.

"Yeah me neither." You stared at each other unsure of what to do.

"Well, you have the dick, I don't, so… get on with it !"

You quickly got up and grabbed the head, pressing it between your legs.

He rubbed his face against your groin, using his nose to nudge against your growing hard on. He generally would've hated to use his nose like this, but he had no other choice, his hands being so far away and unable to touch you any other way. Your humming encouraged him to continue, wanting to hear more of your noises. Feeling your dick twitch inside your clothes against his skin.

You quickly pushed your shorts and your underwear to your feet and Buggy gulped as he breathed loudly at the sight of your dick standing up right in front of him. He looked at you for a second, a flash of uncertainty crossing his features. He was only just a head, after all. Wouldn't he need his hands to please you as well ?

"You're gonna do great, Bugs." You reassured him. "All I need is your mouth right now. And you clearly know how to run it."

He nodded and you smiled, caressing his face before pushing your thumb in his mouth. When you pulled it out, you let your thumb rub against his lipstick, smearing his make up more than it already was.

"C'mon, just get to it already !" He barked, making you snort.

You grabbed his head, pushing the tip of your cock inside his mouth, past his teeth. Feeling the wet and warm walls of his cheek against your sensitive skin.

His eyes never left yours as you slowly moved him up and down your length.

Your whole dick was inside him, tickling the back of his throat for a few seconds, resting there. You could tell he was trying not to choke with how his eyes shone with tears. His round nose was pushed against your pelvis.

"Good boy…" You cooed, voice slightly shaky. "Takin' all of me."

You pulled out and he let out a big huff, exhaling loudly with his tongue out. You wasted no time and pushed it back in with your cock. Making him hum in surprise.

"Ahh…" You let out, closing your eyes as your head hung back. You began to move Buggy's head faster, your hips rocking against his face with his chin pressing against your balls.

You could hear him choke on your dick, trying to breathe or to cough, or both at the same time. But you didn't stop, only to let him breathe from time to time.

Heavy strings of saliva connected the inside of his mouth to your dick as you pulled out, letting him inhale before pushing yourself back in. Making him choke loudly.

"Not- not too loud, or you'll get us caught. Is that what you want, Bugs ?" You breathed out and his eyes widened. The idea of possibly being caught lit something in him. Both wanting and dreading for this to happen.

You could hear the rest of the crew talk loudly and laugh inside the house, blissfully unaware you were fucking the head.

One noise too loud and they would know. Curiously looking outside for the source of it as he gags and chokes on you.

God, he didn't want you to stop, he wanted you to continue and use him as you please. Which you did, fucking his face roughly, smearing some of his make up onto your own skin.

You kept using his mouth as you moaned quietly, you could feel the flat of his tongue move against your cock, rubbing along the veins.

You slowed down despite wanting to go even faster, not wanting to cum just yet. Wanting the pleasure to last a little bit longer.

You allowed Buggy to regain some of his composure, breathing loudly as if he had been drowning. He coughed and cleared his throat loudly while you sighed.

"Fuck, love, you really don't play a-" You didn't give him the time to finish his sentence, pushing back his face against your dick for him to lick. Which he did.

You moved his head slightly to help him lick all of it, from your balls to your leaking tip before pushing yourself back inside his mouth, all the way in. This time he didn't gag.

While one hand remained behind his head to keep him in place, the other gently caressed him under his red and white bandana. You started to move when he tried to swallow around your dick, squeezing it deliciously in his warm embrace.

You found back your old pace rather quickly, fucking his mouth and his throat carelessly while he tried to suck more of it.

You came in his mouth, hot semen shooting down his throat as he choked trying to swallow it without biting your cock off. You remained still for a few seconds, his face pressed against you as you caught back your breath before pulling him out.

He coughed, spitting on himself a little bit as he regained his breath. He looked at you with tears in his eyes from choking so much, trying to blink them away. You helped him, gently and carefully wiping his eyes, grimacing as you smudged some of his make up.

"Oops."

"What ? What is it ?"

"Nothin'"

He huffed and you brought his head to your face, pecking his cheek delicately.

"I'll repay you, I promise." You said, pulling your shorts back on.

"You better ! I'm left all hot and fucking bothered here !"

In Arlong Park, some of the fishmen laughed at the sight of Buggy's body. Not because they found it particularly funny. Although it was. But because they noticed the tent in the clown's pants with wet stain as his hands struggled in their restraints, clearly wanting to do something about it but unable to.

#male reader #m!reader #buggy the clown #buggy the clown imagine #opla #opla x male reader #opla imagine #one piece live action #one piece live action imagine #opla buggy #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece x male reader

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irisintheafterglow · 3 months

Text

way hay, and up she rises! (opla!zoro x you)

summary: zoro leads the crew to an informant from his bounty-hunting days; they don't know his history with the pretty singer in the bar.

wc: 2.6k

cw/tags: swearing, implied fem!reader (wearing a skirt and makeup) but they/them pronouns used, basically singer/bodyguard trope, strangers to lovers, brief guy being an asshole (and protective zoro!), simp zoro, i love zoro, can you tell how much i love this man

note: do i imagine lucy gray baird when i think about reader singing in a bar? maybe a little bit. do i wish i could sing like rachel zegler as lucy gray baird? abso-fucking-lutely. i've been listening to a lot of random sea shanties lately so this is where that came from. hope you enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are much appreciated!

“You’re sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Of all the times for you to doubt me, cook,” he says, catching the door with the toe of his boot and kicking it open, “I can say for certain, I have this under control.” His feet step through the doorway and he’s bombarded with jolly laughter, drunken singing, and a dancing fiddle. The patrons cheer with flasks and goblets in their hands, liquor splashing onto their neighbors when they slam their cups onto wooden tables. It’s warm like a hearth, not a hell, and the unkempt atmosphere wraps around him like a familiar blanket. Within seconds, he’s not a pirate anymore; he’s back to being a hunter.

And there, swinging the edge of your skirt with a tambourine in hand, was you. The lantern light catches in your eyes in a way that makes them glow, enchanting him like a spell. You’re just as breathtaking as the last time he saw you, singing clearer than the stars shining on a winter night. When you speak, it’s like invisible ropes extend from your lithe fingers, grabbing each man by the ears and pulling them in to listen further. He’s no different, finding himself drifting toward your stage when a sudden hand tugs him away.

“Hey, we’re going this way. Luffy found a table in the back,” Nami informs him over the controlled chaos of the bar. Her voice quiets as he follows her to a secluded corner, but her teasing was not lost to him.

“Pretty interesting place you’ve led us to.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he replies blandly, still slightly awestruck from seeing you again.

“Got a crush on the singer?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he deadpans, sliding into the booth next to his beaming captain. He gladly accepts the bottle Usopp offers him, taking a swig without so much of a flinch when it burns down his throat and goes straight to his head.

“What were you guys talking about?” Luffy pipes up and he doesn’t hide his grimace in time. “Did Nami say something to bother you, Zoro?”

“Doesn’t she always?” An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of the swordsman’s stomach, one he could only explain by not having eyes on you. He was used to being here alone, where he could admire you without distraction. He knew he wasn’t ready for the crew’s interrogation about his history with you. “I just need something to drink.”

“You’re already holding a bottle, if you’ve forgotten already,” Sanji reminds him. “Don’t make us drag your sorry ass out of another bar.” If looks could kill, Zoro couldn’t fathom the number of coffins the stupid cook would need.

“Alright, alright,” Luffy interjects. “Zoro’s just been…stressed. We all deal with stress in our own ways.”

“There are healthier ways to deal with stress than alcoholism,” Nami points out. “For instance, talking it out works wonders.”

“While I appreciate the concern, we’re here for information, not therapy,” Zoro states tersely, taking another gulp from his bottle. “We came a little early, so we’ll have to wait until the band is done with their set before we move in on the target.” His eyes drift back into your general direction, hoping there weren’t any guys giving you trouble.

“Why can’t we just move in now? There’s enough chaos in the bar to be a distraction,” Luffy asks.

“Sanji and I could start a fight,” Usopp offers in response, holding up the cook’s wrist like he was ready for the first punch. “That worked last time.” Zoro shakes his head.

“Too risky. The informant won’t say anything if we interrupt the music, especially if it’s a bar fight,” he replies, a fond look blinking across his face. “They’re a little…difficult, sometimes.” The pieces click together in Nami’s brain before he can stop her and the realization dawns on her in no time.

“Your contact is the singer.” He shrugs one shoulder, not looking any of his crew in the eye and instead watching the growing crowd around your stage. “The singer you have a crush on?” Zoro’s head snaps back to reality and becomes all too aware of the heat growing on his cheeks.

“I don’t have a crush on them,” he mumbles half-heartedly.

“Aw, Zoro is in love!” Usopp sighs. “I always knew he had a heart.”

“It’s not love. It’s just admiration, if anything,” he counters, but it’s no use. His crewmates were already on a roll.

“I thought you said you had this under control,” Sanji recalls with a taunting smirk.

“I do have this under control.”

“Your red complexion says otherwise,” the cook replies and Zoro’s frown deepens. It wasn’t part of his plan for the rest of his friends to find out about his relationship with you. In fact, accompanying him to the bar was not part of the plan in the first place. “Look, I’m happy for you. Honestly, I am. If you could do it, then I surely will find someone even better.”

“That’s enough,” Nami cuts in before Zoro can unsheath a sword. He nods in curt gratitude, but she doesn’t let him off the hook. “However, as payback for not telling us about your little sweetheart, you’re gonna explain how you know them until their set is done.”

“Says who?”

“Says us,” Usopp answers, holding up Sanji’s fist again and miming the cook punching him in the face. “Or, we’re gonna cause a scene and make them come to us first.”

“You guys are impossible,” Zoro mutters under his breath. With a deep exhale, he establishes a single rule. “You don’t tell anyone about what I’m about to tell you, understand?” The crew nods. “Good, because if someone finds out about them, I’m gonna shave your heads while you sleep.”

As with most people Zoro interacted with, you met him because of a fight.

“I didn’t need your help,” you had told him that night, resting your boot on a ribcage for leverage and yanking your sword from the dead assailant’s chest. “So, you can leave now.”

“I thought you said you had this under control,” he remarks, cleaning the blood from his blade and inserting it back into its sheath.

“I do have this under control,” you reiterate with a glare. “It was just an off night.”

“Pretty impressive for an off night, though your swordsmanship could improve.” His hand gestures vaguely at the half-dozen attackers lying at your feet, amateurs whose strength depended on their numbers. Numbers, which he'd helped you cut down when you didn’t show up at the meeting spot you’d agreed upon.

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to insult me or compliment me,” you scoff.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as you keep talking,” he replies without missing a beat, following you through the backdoor of the bar and down a dusty hallway into what he presumed was a makeshift dressing room. “You could make a good career out of bounty hunting if you wanted to.” Closing the door behind him, he settles into a nearby chair and watches you tidy up trinkets on the vanity.

“I don’t remember letting you come in here, much less telling you to have a seat.” Your guarded nature only intrigues Zoro more, but he’s more than willing to leave if you truly didn’t want him present. Something in his gut told him, though, that you secretly enjoyed the company. “And, no. I’m not interested in the violence of your world, only the information part.”

“The information part you didn’t show up for,” he recalls with a scowl. You hum in fake sympathy at his displeasure.

“And my sincerest apologies for getting attacked while on route to our meeting place,” you bite, shaking your head when he rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re here now, so just ask your questions and get out.” Zoro does ask his questions and you give him the answers he needs, but the lingering feeling of disappointment when he bids you farewell stays with him even after he collects the head you helped him find. So, with the reward money sitting heavy in his pocket, he returns to your run-down little bar the following week.

Without the pressure of fulfilling a hunt weighing on his chest, he catches himself enjoying your performance a little too much. It was mesmerizing, the way you danced across the stage and blew kisses to drunken audience members. Zoro even found himself smiling when he was able to catch your eye.

“I take it the hunt went well,” you say in greeting when he appears in the doorway of your dressing room. It’s after your band’s last set and you’re visibly more relaxed than the previous time he saw you. Instead of barging into your space, he simply leans a muscled shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed and observing you remove your makeup.

“It did. Your little tip about the maid worked wonders.”

“She’ll always turn a blind eye if it means a little extra money.”

“She also knew the place better than the maps I was reading,” he adds. “I wouldn’t think to talk to her if it weren’t for you.” You dismiss his compliment with a wave of your hand.

“The Lady of the House’s true right-hand is not her husband, but the one that cleans up after him,” you muse with a satisfied smile. He’s still standing in the doorway, you notice from the corner of your eye. “You can come in if you promise to explain why you’re back again.”

“Consider the promise made, then,” he replies, shutting the door and taking a seat the same way he did the week prior. “I wanted to apologize for getting off on the wrong foot.”

“The Demon of the East Blue apologizing to me? What a world we live in,” you quip and he chuckles. “For the record, I wasn’t mad at you. Well, not entirely.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yeah, I was mad at you for interrupting the set to ask your questions, but I can’t blame you too much. It’s your first time here, after all.” He listens to your explanation intently, like there was no other voice he’d rather be hearing. “But for future reference, interrupting me while I’m singing will make other clients I serve a little jumpy.”

“They think you’re conspiring against them?”

“Exactly. I try to keep the same after-the-show policy with everyone, so if I give priority to one person, they’ll question my reliability.” He nods, your irritation suddenly making much more sense.

“And when they question your reliability, they attack you outside the bar,” he concludes.

“Mhmm, which was why I was late for our meeting. For that, I am sorry.” Your voice is softer than the candlelight illuminating the small room and he finds himself being drawn into you again, like a magnet. An idea pops into his mind, one that was sure to cost him a few hunts, but he’s sure you’re worth it.

“Ever think about hiring stage security?”

“For a dirty-ass bar like this? Definitely not,” you laugh. “Maybe if I were playing for the general of the Marines, but here? That’s funny.” You thought that would be the end of your conversations with Zoro, but decided not to question his intentions when he showed up the following night. You spied him sitting in the same dark corner with a glass in his hand, watching you like you were the only being that mattered in his world. As the songs pass, your eyes find him on instinct and you’re rewarded with a rare grin that makes your stomach float. No sooner did you start your last set of the night, though, did a new client come storming into the bar.

He was a Marine defector, one that was trying to make it onto some pirate’s ship before the government found him. In the second drawer of your dressing room vanity, you had a list of ships and ports that would guarantee him a smooth disappearance into the sea. He desperately needed the list and, being a new client, was clueless about your after-show policy.

“Alright, give me the list. Let’s go,” he hissed once he reached the front of the stage, his words barely audible over the sound of your band. You attempt to smile and play him off as another drunk, but your amiable expression disappears when he tries to grab the edge of your skirt. “I’m not fucking messing around. Give me the fucking list.” As expected, your regular clients started to shift uncomfortably in their seats, looking at you and the greenie suspiciously. In their minds, you were giving special privileges to a new guy. “Stop being a bitch and give me the list.” The man reaches out to grab your skirt again when a strong hand shoves him away from you.

“Get lost. They’re in the middle of performing.” You steal one glance at the swordsman in front of you, the one resting his hands menacingly on the hilts of his swords. His broad shoulders become a wall in front of you, impossible to pass without risking instant decapitation. The new client scurries away and you release a shaky breath, sending Zoro a grateful look when he’s back at his seat. Please stay, you mouth wordlessly. I’m not going anywhere, he mouths back.

He stays with you during your official meeting with the ex-Marine, arms crossed and stationed in the corner of your dressing room like a guard dog. When the meeting is over and Zoro’s all but thrown the man out of the building, he walks you home and waits until he hears your door lock before leaving. He’s back the next night, and the next, and the next, and all the nights afterward for nearly a year. You start to ask him about his past, his hunts, and his dreams. Little by little, you both start to take down your defenses and trust each other with vulnerability. He’s late, sometimes, when he gets caught in a hunt; but, you always end up finding him waiting for you in your dressing room.

After he kisses you for the first time, you start inviting him in once he’s walked you home, impatiently locking your door before pulling him to your room. It’s little things that make you fall in love with him: waking up to find him hogging all of your blankets, resting on his bare chest and relishing in the feeling of his skin against yours, running a hand through his hair until he wakes up with a sleepy smile. He falls freely, hopelessly, and completely in love with you, too.

He knows nothing has changed when you rush into his arms as soon as you see him in your dressing room.

“Hey, songbird,” he mumbles while his arms lock around your waist. “I burn from missing you.”

“I’ve missed you more.” Your voice sounds muffled against his shoulder as your arms wind tightly around his neck. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, pulling you as closely to him as humanly possible. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Zoro felt at ease. “I thought I saw you walk in, but you didn’t go to your usual spot.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I have some…friends with me,” he says slowly, nudging the door open to reveal his crewmates eavesdropping from the hallway. You smirk knowingly, running the pad of your thumb over his cheekbone. “Alright, alright. Just say it–”

“I didn’t know you could make friends,” you tease and he prevents you from saying anything else by pressing his lips against yours. “Wanna introduce me to them?”

“Give me a second, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “I need you to myself for a bit.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n

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suguwu · 5 months

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Mer!jing yuan save me … mer!jing yuan … save me mer!jing yuan

listen i know this is a meme but—

gn!reader, shipwrecks, yandere. minors and ageless blogs dni.

he's been watching the ship.

it moves smoothly through the waters, parts the waves and leaves a quiet trail in its wake. the sails ripple with the wind, a disturbed pond, until they balloon out, full-bellied like the moon. it's well-made, the ship, and well-loved. jing yuan has seen enough ships to know.

and its captain is just as loved.

he's seen how your men respond to you, the way they laugh merrily but follow your orders without question. they cheer your name after you take the helm during a summer storm, the hungry sea breaking against the hull, lightning forking through the sky. after the storm passes, you stand on the deck, chest heaving. the sun peeks out from behind the distant clouds, and you turn your face up towards the watery light. it burnishes you, warms your wet figure into something more.

the ship sails on.

jing yuan follows.

it's easy to keep up despite the wind catching in the sails, his powerful tail coiling and bunching with muscle as he swims, the scales shining like moonlight beneath the water. he keeps his distance, for now.

the ocean favors you, he thinks, with the way sea spray kisses your lips like a lover, catches in your hair, crystalline droplets crowning you. the salt gleams on your skin when you're on deck, glittering in the sunlight as you weave your way through the deckhands.

he has heard the sirens before, the wailing echo of their enchanting song, and he hears them in your voice. it draws him near, closer than he should, peeking out of the water like the moon rising over the horizon to watch you as you get ready for bed, your windows open wide to the expanse of the sea. he watches, and watches, and watches.

the sound of your voice sinks into his bones, slips silken through his blood. he would know it anywhere, can unwind the thread of it from the patchwork quilt of the sea shanties you sing with your crew. he contemplates speaking to you, but he can wait. he knows the path you are taking, his fingertips weaving a current. he knows where it ends.

jing yuan knows patience well.

your laugh shimmers like moonlight on the water as you dance a jig with your first mate, bouncing merrily. the sea laps at the hull of your ship, peaceful and sweet, belaying the tempest it can whip into.

he can taste the storm coming.

it hits that night, the bruised clouds swallowing down the moon, the sea churning, white-capped waves like teeth. the ship is buffeted by the howling wind, sent skipping forward as you yell to your crew, voice firm. it is only because he knows you so well that he can recognize the waver to it.

the storm grows.

it catches the ship in its teeth, drags it to and fro like a dog with a bone. you yell until your voice goes hoarse, rasps like the waves against the pebbles of the shore. the ship keels under the press of a hungry wave. jing yuan hums to himself, the sound lost to the storm, and dives.

beneath the roiling surface, the ocean welcomes him, the currents tickling against his powerful body as he keeps pace with the ship. the current he'd spun swirls around him like a tapestry, warm and familiar.

it does not take long to see them.

his mother the sea has whittled the rocks into gravemakers to feed her unceasing hunger. beneath the surface lies the wreckage of several ships, rotting in the ocean's maw. they are barnacled, wicked-mouthed things, the gravemaker rocks, pointed like spears and dark enough to meld with the ocean's blackened surface. the current ripples around them.

they rend your ship asunder.

they tear through the wood like teeth to meat, ripping through the hull with a ravenous bite. the sea howls her delight as the hull splinters; the water rushes in, eager to devour. as he surfaces, watching, waiting, jing yuan can hear your voice pitched with fervor, lined with a well-hidden panic.

a wave rises and crashes into the ship, pinning it further onto the rocks. the hull gives. it folds into itself like a paper crane crushed in clumsy fingers; the water swallows it.

jing yuan knows the second you hit the water.

he calls the current to him, following its beckoning fingers with just a few pulses of his powerful tail. he surfaces to find you floating amid the wreckage, blood seeping from a few scrapes and scratches.

he hums and gathers you into his arms; lets the warmth of your skin sink into him. you stir for only a breath before sinking back into unconsciousness. but your heartbeat is strong and steady.

jing yuan wraps himself around you and dives again. he has been patient enough.

this is always where your path was leading.

#bee writes hsr #yandere tw #fellas is it saving someone if you cause the problem in the first place #jing yuan x reader

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tumbler-polls · 2 months

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#music #polls #workout #gymlife #tumbler polls

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amicus-siderum · 7 months

Text

I think it'd be nice if in Genshin they added the main characters into the playable world- eg. seeing Amber at the Good Hunter, or finding Zhongli at the storyteller's place and being able to interact with them. Kinda hangout style except it's not a quest or anything major. Just a fun little interaction!

I think this would make for a more interactive and realistic experience. As you know, the players love their favourite character's greatly, and often complain about not having enough interactions with them, so I believe that making them occasionally appear outside of quests would be a great solution to that.

Here are some examples I've come up with:

- Diluc can be found on Mondstadt's city wall at night, and when you try to interact with him, he is very awkwardly trying to hide his Darknight Hero identity

- Lisa can be found in the KoF library sometimes, sipping tea and reading a romance novel, and when you interact with her, she invites you to read together

- Noelle can be found around the Favonius Headquarters performing her maidly duties, and when interacted with, she says she's quite busy but will try her best to aid you in any way she can

- Jean can be found in her office late at night, and when interacted with, you can try to coerce her into resting by doing some of her work for her

- Kaeya can be found walking around the streets of Mond at any time of the day, and when interacted with, he invites you for a walk together while gaining intel from the other residents

- Beidou can be found on the Alcor, and when interacted with, she sings sea shanties or offers to tell you of her adventures out at sea

- Ningguang can be found in the Jade Chamber in the early mornings, and when interacted with, she entertains you with a philosophical discussion and is amused by your responses

- Childe can be found around and about Liyue Harbor, and when interacted with, he ends up giving you mora to "buy yourself something nice"

- Thoma can be found at Komore Teahouse in the afternoons, and when interacted with, you receive consumable food thanks to his caring nature

- Sayu can sometimes be spotted in her barrel camouflage, and when you try to interact with her, she says bad inconspicuous things such as "I am just a normal barrel, no need to concern yourself with me"

- Yoimiya can be encountered when interacting with her father at Naganohara Fireworks, and when interacted with, she gives you fireworks and you set

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demigoddessqueens · 5 months

Text

family

Family Headcanons of each of the leads

For the November codexmonthly prompt

Altair

He never really saw himself as a parent, but when you tell him you’re expecting or when you both become parents, he sees a younger version of himself and cares for his kin immensely, a new generation of his family

Connor/Ratonhnkake:ton

He’s entirely full of nerves but you reassure him he’s doing fine. Be ready for Connor to constantly check up on you, grabbing whatever you need, and when he finally holds his child in his arms, he never wants to be separated from them

Jacob

A whole rollercoaster of emotions, he wants to be better than his father but also sheds his old carefree habits bit by bit to care for you and his child, the type to be a fun dad but also serious when he needs to be

Ezio

Oh you’ve made him the happiest man there is! He’s thrilled, nervous, excited, grateful his family is growing again. A total fun dad who’s super protective too!

Evie

Oh she frets constantly over you on what you need, but she’s thrilled at the chance to be a mom. Jacob as the fun, protective uncle and she as the loving, protective mother

Arno 🇫🇷

He didn’t think he was deserving of having such a loving family unit after before, but you prove him (thankfully) wrong. He thinks loving you and having kids would slip through his fingers but the days, weeks, months and years are all the more loving

Eivor

They adore the family you’ve created together and always treasures every second. Also the type of dad to carry the tiny ones on their shoulders or back during playtime

Bayek

Such a good dad!! Like he’s super involved, super loving, always wants to teach the Little One, and is never short of interesting stories to tell them at bed time

Kassandra

She’s a loving mom who has a habit of singing lullabies to Little One and has stories to entertain them with

Basim

Ecstatic and enthusiastic type of dad! Oh you’ve made him the happiest man alive! The type to spoil you during pregnancy and always present for each milestone

Shay

Rambunctious type of dad that always has his Little One giggling at everything. From birth, Tiny One always wants to go sailing on The Morrigan with their papa

Haytham

Stern but loving dad (even if he’s not good at showing it, but he cares! A lot! The type of dad to carry full conversations with Little One’s babbling when they’re at the infant stage

Edward 🏴‍☠️

He is also Fun Dad™️ but has his serious, protective streak too. It’s either taking Little One sailing on The Jackdaw, teaching them sea shanties or he’s holding still whole Little One likes to climb all over him

Aveline

She’s the type of mom who is very encouraging with her kid when they set their mind to do something, and they also like a shopping trip or two

EDIT: Desmond

He’s a bit of a nervous dad at first, thinking he’s not cut out for this at first, but you’re there to help him every step of the way. Later Becomes that kind of dad that is involved 110% and absolutely uses the Dad Jokes

And don’t get me started if he’s a girl dad! 😜

276 notes · View notes

lilacmingi · 4 months

Text

RUNAWAY

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Pirate!Hongjoong x pirate!fem reader

Word count: 8,270

Note: This is an imagine from April 2022 from my Wattpad. The pirate Ateez imagines are definitely some of my most popular ones and I’m SO excited to share them here! I wanted to do something to celebrate 200 followers but I don’t have any new stuff ready so I’ve decided to post my Ateez pirate imagines! 🏴‍☠️ Pirate AUs for the other members are linked at the end of the imagine!

The moon hung high in the clear night sky, the bright beam reflecting onto the peaceful waters below. The view of the dark horizon was tranquil and the complete opposite of the pandemonium that was taking place just a few feet behind you.

Singing, hollers of celebration, and the clanking of stein glasses became mere background noise as you gazed at the midnight sky above. The myriad of stars dotting the heavens were almost like fireflies in the forest, giving some light to the otherwise dark sky.

Hongjoong's crew was celebrating another successful day of pillaging—it was exhausting. You'd become rather numb to these so-called celebrations. It's just a bunch of men acting like drunken fools to you.

The crew belted out sea shanties in their intoxicated states, the sour notes coming out slurred and garbled. You cringed. You didn't know how much more of this you could take.

The sound of heavy boots stumbling towards you caught your attention. An arm was slung haphazardly over your shoulder, the force making you jerk forward a bit.

"Y/n." Hongjoong slurred slightly, his breath smelling of rum. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"Watching the moon." You answered.

"Come join us. You're missing out."

"No thank you."

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I just don't care for celebrations."

"But you've always enjoyed our celebrations."

"Yeah, but it's becoming a bit... how do I put this? Lackluster."

Hongjoong scoffed. "Lackluster?"

"Yeah. I just don't enjoy it much anymore."

"Let me change your mind."

You glanced over to see Hongjoong's hand extended towards you, his many gold rings glimmering under the lit torches.

You started to deny him, but stopped, pressing your lips together in thought.

"C'mon." That all too familiar charming smirk of his spread across his soft-looking lips. "You wouldn't refuse a dance with me, would you?"

"I might." You teased, a playful grin threatening to break out onto your features.

He made a face at you in return.

"Alright." You caved, clasping his extended hand. "I'll dance with you."

"I knew you couldn't resist." He simpered, leading you towards the middle of the main deck.

The drunken singing of the crew was much louder now that you were right in the middle of it. Hongjoong's cheeks were stained pink from the alcohol, no doubt, as he grinned brightly, taking your other hand. The two of you began spinning and skipping to the stomp of the crew's boots against the wooden boards of the ship. Neither of you ever really learned how to properly dance, but when you're a pirate, that doesn't matter much.

As you bounded in circles, you found yourself enjoying it more and more. The two of you danced in no particular rhythm, stomping your feet and bouncing around like fools. Your hands stayed clasped together as you swung them around, your joint laughter filling the air.

Once the chanting and off-key singing of the crew died down, you and Hongjoong ceased your dancing.

"See? That was fun, wasn't it?" He grinned.

"It was." You agreed, fixing the errant strands of his scruffy mullet.

"You always enjoy dancing with me."

"I do." You admitted.

"C'mon. Have something to drink." He pulled you towards one of the barrels set up and took it upon himself to fill up a stein.

He handed it to you with a smile. You reluctantly took it, taking a sip of the dark liquid.

"Next time we dock, I'll try and get some nice wine. How about that?" Hongjoong suggested.

"That would be wonderful. I'm starting to tire of rum."

"Hey, if you won't drink it, I will." Hongjoong reached out to grab the glass from you.

"Wait." You pulled it away. "Are you sure you should have any more?"

"Of course! You can never have enough alcohol."

"How many of these have you had?" You questioned, referring to the large stein in your hand.

"Three."

You pressed your lips together, hesitant to hand over the drink. Then again, Hongjoong is as stubborn as a mule. If you don't give it to him, he'll just make himself another glass.

"Very well, then." You gave in, handing over the glass.

"Thanks, lovely." He winked, taking the beverage from you.

You watched as he sauntered off, joining his crew to clink steins with them. One of the crew members began singing yet another drunken shanty, causing everyone to start dancing again. Hongjoong held his wooden stein up in the air, alcohol sloshing onto the deck as his crew cheered him on.

"Say my name!" He shouted.

"Captain Hongjoong! Captain Hongjoong! Captain Hongjoong!" They chanted, fueling his ego.

You could tell he loved that. He loved being the captain. It was his dream, after all.

A yawn spilled from your lips, catching you off guard. You hadn't realized how tired you were.

You stepped away from the railing of the ship and began to head towards the captain's cabin to turn in for the night.

You and Hongjoong shared a room, exactly the way he wanted. You were the only female on the ship and Hongjoong's dearest friend, as well as his right hand woman, so he wanted to make sure you stayed close, which is why you got the best room on the ship.

On the way to your shared room, you noticed someone sitting on the steps leading to the quarterdeck. He was hunched over, a head of soft, brown hair resting on the top of his knees. You were curious as to who was crouched on the steps alone. You had been on the ship for years and were familiar with every crew member, but you weren't sure who this was.

"Excuse me. Are you okay?" You asked, approaching the male.

He lifted his head, large, brown eyes looking up at you.

"Oh, Minho." You smiled, warmly. "I thought you'd be over there with everyone else." You spoke, gesturing to the celebration taking place a few feet behind you.

"No." He shook his head. "I'm not one for celebrations. They've become too hectic for me. To be honest, I thought you'd be over there. You're always with Hongjoong."

"Yeah, well, I've had my fill of celebrations for the night." You told him. "Hongjoong is on his own tonight. I've decided to turn in for the night."

"Well, I don't want to keep you out here. Sleep tight." He smiled.

"Thanks, Minho."

You stepped into your room, closing the door behind you.

Hongjoong's bed was unmade, as usual and his desk was an absolute mess. He was never one to clean up after himself. Apparently, he "has other things to worry about." You let out a sigh as you walked over to his desk where papers and books were scattered over the surface. The entire tabletop was in disarray. As much as you wanted to clean it up, you knew everything was more than likely left in place for a reason. So, you did the least you could possibly do, which was throw away any wadded pieces of paper as well as collect all of the pens and pencils scattered across the desk, placing them all into a cup.

You told yourself you'd stop and go to bed after that, but you didn't. You ended up stacking all the papers strewn across Hongjoong's desk, putting them in one, neat pile. Upon doing so, you discovered a large map spread across the tabletop. Your head tilted to the side when you noticed a red dot on the map. Normally, a red dot indicated that the town was going to be raided for supplies. You tried to read the name of the town, unable

to see well in the dimply lit room. Your eyes squinted as you leaned towards the map, until you heard a commotion just outside the cabin, which caused you to scurry away from Hongjoong's desk.

You made yourself busy, pulling back the covers on your bed, only to find that it was just a false alarm. The noises you heard were merely drunken crew mates making a ruckus.

You glanced back towards Hongjoong's desk sitting on the other side of the room, tempted to go back and look at the map, but you decided against it, choosing to get ready for bed.

You turned the knob on the oil lamp, dimming the light so you'd be able to rest. You wanted Hongjoong to be able to see when he finally came to bed, so you didn't put it out all the way.

As you laid in bed, your mind began to drift towards the map, your curiosity getting the best of you. Your head lifted from the pillow, your eyes staring across the room at Hongjoong's desk. Then, without thinking you flung the covers off of you and grabbed the oil lamp, moving across the room to the map spread on the table.

The dim glow of the low-burning flame illuminated the chart enough to where you could finally read the name of the town. You blinked a few times, getting a second look at it, wondering if you misread it.

"That can't be right." You murmured.

Worried about getting caught, you scurried back to bed and attempted to go to sleep. Instead of worrying about what you saw on that map, you just chose to confront Hongjoong about it the next day.

The sea breeze blew through your hair as you stood by Hongjoong's side on the forecastle deck.

"There's a town close by that we're going to pillage." He informed you as he steered the gigantic vessel.

"Was that the town you had marked in red on your map?"

"How did you know that?"

"I saw it on your desk last night. That town isn't a bad town. There's good people living there. Why would you plan to pillage it?"

"We need supplies. Plus, they're nearby."

"That's your reasoning?" You questioned.

"Yeah."

"Hongjoong, that town is well known for giving things to those in need. You should find another town to get supplies from."

"If that's true, then looting the town should be easy." He shrugged.

You were appalled, unable to believe what he just said.

"It makes more sense to go there because it's closer. We don't have enough supplies to last long enough to make it to the next town."

"Then ration our provisions."

"I can't do that."

"Yes you can. I'm not asking for much. Ration until we reach the next town."

You could tell Hongjoong was getting agitated, but you wouldn't have him pillage a town that didn't deserve it.

"What I say goes, and I say we're raiding that town."

"I want you to wait and raid another town."

"Well, you're not the captain, are you, Y/n?"

"No, but I am your friend." You responded, harshly, stepping forward to grab the wheel.

"Hey!" Hongjoong shouted. "What are you doing?"

"Steering us away from that town."

You began to fight with him, the wheel being pulled back and forth like a tug of war.

"Why don't you listen to me?" You asked.

"I'm the captain!" He snapped. "Not you!"

Hongjoong shoved you away, causing you to stumble back and fall onto the deck. A hiss left you as pain shot up your hip and elbow. You thought maybe your friend would feel some sort of remorse, but he only stared down at you, looking only mildly surprised at his actions.

You clenched your jaw and pushed yourself up off the deck, knowing you lost this fight.

"Forget it. I'm tired of this."

You stormed off the forecastle deck, getting as far away from Hongjoong as you could. You were absolutely fuming, wanting to unleash the burning anger inside. Hongjoong only raids towns that steal from the poor. Never has he even considered looting a town so generous—until now, apparently.

The way he simply brushed off the fact that he was about to pillage a small town that didn't deserve it made your blood boil. Truthfully, you don't think he understands the weight of his actions. He'll leave that town with hardly anything. They won't have anything left.

The sound of boots hitting the deck pulled your from your thoughts. Turning your head, you spotted Minho approaching you.

"You alright?" He asked.

Your lips pressed together as you briefly contemplated lying to him.

"No."

"I heard a commotion on the forecastle deck and wanted to check on you. I assume you and Captain got in a fight?"

"It's the first fight we've ever had. He wants to raid a town because it's nearby. I tired to talk him out of it because the town provides for others."

"That doesn't seem right." Minho responded.

"It's not. I tried to make him change his mind, but he just kept saying we don't have enough supplies and we have to dock there. I suggested rationing what we have and he completely shot down the idea."

Minho frowned in distaste. "Why is it so difficult to ration?"

"I don't know." You sighed, shaking your head. "He's never acted like this before. I don't know what's happening to him."

"I'm sorry he's being such a jerk."

"Me too. Sorry for dumping all of this onto you. I should have just lied and said I was okay."

"No." Minho shook his head. "I'm glad you were honest. It's not good to bottle things up. If you ever need to talk, I'm here. Okay?"

You nodded, giving him a weak smile.

The day went on and you tried your hardest to keep your distance, avoiding Hongjoong by any and all means. Much your dismay, Hongjoong had announced to the crew his plans of looting the poor town. You were set to dock in just a couple days.

When night settled over the sky, you began making your way towards the captain's quarters, only to stop in your tracks. Did you even want to sleep in the same room as Hongjoong?

You turned on your heel, redirecting your route to the crew's sleeping quarters, heading directly to one room in particular.

Your knuckles knocked lightly on the bedroom door, waiting for an answer. It creaked open just a few seconds later.

"Oh, Y/n. What are you doing here? Is everything alright?" Minho asked.

"Yeah. This might sound like a weird question, but is it alright if I stay with you tonight?"

His large eyes widened in surprise.

"Hongjoong and I aren't on good terms at the moment, which you already know, and I don't really want to share a room with him now."

"I understand." He nodded, stepping aside. "Come on in."

You volunteered to sleep on the floor, but Minho wouldn't allow it, offering you his bed. So, that's where you slept.

The ocean was rather choppy today, much like the situation you were currently in. The white-capped waves dominated the majority of the waters' surface, the ship lurching with each forceful push of the sea below, sending a spray of salt water up the side of the vessel.

"Alright men, all hands on deck!" Hongjoong instructed. "There's a storm coming in from the north."

"Yes, Captain." The crew responded.

You wanted to ask Hongjoong if he needed your help with anything, but the two of you were not on speaking terms at the moment, so you held your tongue.

"Man the sails!" Hongjoong shouted more commands, sternly.

He's absolutely deserving of being captain. Despite his small stature, he carried a very powerful and commanding presence, his aura almost threatening at times. However, at the end of the day, he was still the sweet Hongjoong you grew up with—well, up until recently. You said you would follow him to the ends of the earth. He was your best friend, after all. Now, you're not sure who he is.

Years ago, when the two of you had just recently turned 18, Hongjoong had this grand idea to escape.

"We're gonna get out of here." He told you.

"And go where?" You inquired.

"Anywhere. Everywhere." He answered, his eyes twinkling. "Sail the seas."

"You want to be a pirate?" You questioned.

"Yes! It would be so much fun. No rules, no nothing." He turned to you with a smile. "Will you join me?"

The excited gleam in his eye let you know how serious he was about this unattainable dream. Despite that, the idea of sailing the seas and living a rule-free pirate life thrilled you.

"Yes."

Look where that got you.

A loud boom of thunder rumbled in the ominous sky above, dark, menacing clouds swirled over the ocean. You stepped away from the railing, watching as the crew scurried across the deck, preparing for the storm brewing in the atmosphere.

Hongjoong was busying himself by barking orders at crew mates, rushing them along. He was unusually snappy today, no doubt because of your little fight yesterday.

"What are you doing?" He shouted, angrily. "Furl the mainsail! The storm is approaching!"

Truthfully, you were surprised he hadn't said anything to you about not sleeping in your own bed last night. Then again, maybe he didn't care.

A raindrop hit the top of your head, catching your attention. It didn't take long for the stray drops to turn into a torrential downpour. The rain came down in sheets, pounding on the deck, making puddles almost instantly.

You noticed Minho struggling with one of the masts, hurrying over to assist him.

"Thanks." He breathed.

A gust of wind blew by, whipping your hair in every direction.

"We should get inside!" Minho yelled over the howling winds.

You nodded in agreement as his hand found yours, leading you towards the crew's sleeping quarters to get out of the harsh winds and piercing rain.

Little did you know, Hongjoong was watching, his sharp eyes trained on yours and Minho's intertwined hands.

The ship made it out of the storm unscathed and went on its way to the small, unsuspecting town. Part of you had hoped the storm would somehow get the ship off-route and Hongjoong would be forced to ration supplies and hold off on the raid until you made it to the next town.

The pillaging went on as planned. Like all raids, the looting took place at night. Hongjoong always said it was better to do these things under the cover of darkness.

You stayed on the ship, of course, unable to join in on the raiding. Your conscience wouldn't let you. To your surprise, Minho stayed behind too. Like you, he couldn't bear to be a part of the merciless thievery that was taking place.

It didn't take long for the two of you to hear multiple pairs of booted feet thudding hurriedly against the main deck, followed by the sounds of heavy objects being set down. Your heart sank, knowing the raid was over and the town was left without many of their supplies. For the first time since stepping foot on this ship, you felt sick.

It didn't take long for the music and rhythmic stomping of feet to begin, letting you know the celebrations had already kicked off.

Minho's top lip curled in distaste as he stared in the direction of the main deck.

"I can't sit here and let them celebrate this heinous act." You muttered, pushing yourself to your feet.

You stormed up onto the main deck where Hongjoong was standing up on a cluster of crates, barrels, and burlap sacks dancing and celebrating.

"So you ended up raiding that town?" You inquired with crossed arms.

"Of course I did." He responded before turning to the crew. "And it was a raging success!"

The crew cheered with him, which only fueled your anger.

"I wouldn't call it a raging success if you're stealing from people who do good."

"It's not like we killed anyone." He rolled his eyes.

"No, but you left that town to suffer. The attack was unprovoked."

"Don't get your trousers in a wad, Y/n. We're pirates. We pillage and plunder, it's what we do." Hongjoong responded casually.

Your fists unconsciously clenched as you tried your hardest to bite back rage. Instead of opening your mouth and allowing your scathing words to escape, you whirled around and returned to Minho's room.

The door slammed shut behind you as the brown-haired male lifted his gaze, waiting for you to speak.

"Minho, can you keep a secret?"

In the dead of night while everyone was asleep and/or passed out from alcohol consumption, you snuck out onto the main deck with a small bag of your belongings, heading for the rowboat. You planned to escape the godforsaken ship that once felt like home. Minho, who knew about your plan of action, promised not to breathe a word of your whereabouts. He even offered to assist you.

Said pirate followed you outside and helped lower you into the water once you were inside the boat.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" He questioned.

"I'm sure. Being captain has gotten to Hongjoong's head and after that little stunt he pulled earlier tonight, I can no longer stand by his side."

Minho nodded, somberly. "I understand. Good luck."

"Thank you."

The boat was lowered the rest of the way into the water and you began making your way towards the town. Equipped with just the necessities, you started your journey, using just a compass and a messy, hand-drawn copy of Hongjoong's map.

You didn't feel the slightest bit of remorse as you rowed further from the ship, watching as it got smaller and smaller. You didn't really care if Hongjoong knew you left. He made it very clear that he was the captain and what he says goes. It was painfully evident that he didn't need you anymore; if anything, you were doing him a favor. On the off chance that he did freak out in wake of your disappearance, you'd never know, nor would you care.

"Serves him right." You muttered.

To your surprise, it only took you the entirety of the night to arrive at the marauded town. Your arms were throbbing and you were in need of sleep, but were happy to have arrived at your destination. You used an old rope to tie your row boat to the dock before stepping out onto the landing.

The first thing you noticed about your surroundings was the stacks of crates and barrels that had been emptied and toppled over. The remnants of last night's pillaging was obvious and heartbreaking. You slowly made your way off the dock and into the town where you were met with more wreckage—it was horrible. The more you saw, the angrier you became, wanting nothing more than to curse Hongjoong up one side and down the other. Being on a pirate ship for so long, you managed to learn some insults you didn't even know existed and you wanted to use every single one on Kim Hongjoong.

People were trying to clean up the aftermath of the pillaging from the previous night, doing their best to put the town back together. You spotted a nearby hostel, a middle-aged woman crouched on the ground outside, attempting to tidy up the small flowerbed that looked as if it had been trampled on.

"Excuse me." You called out, gently.

The woman lifted her head. "Oh, hello. Can I help you?"

"I was wondering if you had any vacancies."

"As a matter of fact, I do." She smiled, softly, dusting her hands off on her apron. "You look like you need a good night's rest. Have you traveled far?"

"All night." You responded.

"I'll get you checked in right away. Follow me." You trailed behind the woman as she entered the house, going behind the front counter. "Sorry. We're a little short-staffed. There was a pirate pillaging last night. All but one of my employees quit—and he can't quit because he's my son. That sort of thing just doesn't happen here, so it really scared the workers."

"If you need help, I'd be happy to lend a hand." You told her.

"No, dear. You need rest."

"It's fine." You brushed it off. "It's daytime anyway. It's best I stay up."

"Are you sure, dear?"

"Of course. It seems like you could really use the extra help."

"If you insist. I won't turn down someone who's so willing to lend a helping hand. I'll show you to your room and bring you some working clothes."

"Great." You smiled, following her to the room you'd be staying in.

It was small, cozy, and equipped with only the necessities.

"So, what's your name?" She asked as you looked around the room.

"Y/n." You answered.

"That's a lovely name. You can call me Mrs. Park."

"Well, Mrs. Park, I'd like to stay here for a few days. How much do I owe you for it?" You asked, turning to her.

"Free of charge."

"I can pay for it. It's fine." You insisted.

Mrs. Park held her hand up to stop you.

"You're doing me a huge favor by offering to help me out. It's the least I can do."

"Well, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Like I said, it's the least I can do. We have running water. If you'd like, you can go wash up and I'll bring you a change of clothes and an apron. Then, we can get started on the work."

You didn't bring a lot with you, so getting settled wasn't a problem at all. You did take advantage of the running water Mrs. Park told you about. Being at sea, you haven't had access to clean water, therefore you've not been able to properly bathe. The closest you got to a bath was a quick dip in the ocean with a bar of soap. Shampoo, conditioner, and soap was provided for you, which you were immensely thankful for.

You felt rejuvenated after your bath. In fact, you felt like a whole new new person.

After stepping out of the bathroom, you spotted a neatly folded stack of clothes on your bed.

Normally, you'd wear a large, cream-colored shirt with ruffled sleeves tucked into a pair or trousers and black boots. The clothes Mrs. Park had provided you with contrasted greatly with your usual attire. In your hands was a long, navy-colored dress that laced up in the back, the garment made with thick material, as well as an apron to wear over the dress. As a pirate, you never wore dresses. They weren't really your thing, anyway. However, you were trying to start a new life, and that new life required you to wear the dress in your hands, so you put it on.

You were surprised by your reflection, hardly recognizing the person staring back. Your hair, which had started to dry, was fluffy and bouncy. The outfit was different, but you didn't hate it. You would have preferred pants, but you were willing to compromise since you had a place to stay.

Not wanting to waste too much time, you headed to the lobby.

"Mrs. Park, I'm ready to get started."

"Y/n?" Hongjoong called out.

He hadn't seen you all day. He was still a bit upset with you for the way you reacted the other day as well as last night, but when he didn't see you, not even with Minho, he began to worry.

"Y/n!" He called out again much louder, hurrying across the deck. "Has anyone seen Y/n?"

No answer.

In a panic, he peered over the side of the ship, noticing the row boat was gone. His head snapped towards the sails where Minho was standing.

"Minho!" He shouted, stomping over to the man. "Where is she?"

Minho didn't even spare a glance at Hongjoong and continued straightening out the rigging.

"I'm sure she's around here somewhere." He responded, nonchalantly.

"Don't make me ask again."

"I don't know where she is."

"Stop lying. I know the two of you have been spending time together. Where is she?"

"Away from you." Minho responded, his tone becoming snappy.

Hongjoong reached for his cutlass, pulling it from its sheath and pointing it at Minho's neck.

"Tell me where Y/n is." He demanded.

"You're the captain, you're smart. Why don't you figure it out?"

Hongjoong's jaw clenched, his patience being pushed to its limits. Then, suddenly, it clicked. You had to have gone to that town.

Hongjoong put his cutlass back in its sheath and turned around on his heel.

"We're changing course!" He announced. "I know where Y/n is. We're going to get her."

Working at the small hostel was wonderful. You found that you enjoyed it very much. Unlike life on Hongjoong's ship where you did the same thing every day, you did something different each day here. It was a nice change.

The day you arrived at the town, you were introduced to Mrs. Park's son, Seonghwa. He normally took care of washing the sheets and putting the beds back together. Sometimes he helped out in the kitchen and cooked meals for the residents. Now that all of the staff members had quit, he had to take up most of the slack. The two of you got along well and it made working at the hostel a lot more fun.

Mrs. Park had sent you and Seonghwa to the market to get some things she had run out of. She rushed the two of you out the door, going on about how dire it was that she get these items. She wanted to make a cake for you, which she had mentioned was her specialty, so getting the ingredients was very important.

"Alright. Eggs, flour, and sugar." You read off the list. "We got the sugar. Just a couple more things and we're good to go."

You picked up a small sack of flour and put it into the basket Seonghwa had tossed over his arm. That was the system. You grabbed the groceries, Seonghwa carried them.

"My mom really appreciates your help. When those pirates came though and everyone quit, she was really scared. She didn't know how she'd be able to take care of the place."

"Seems like I showed up at the right time."

"You did." He nodded with a smile. "I know it's only been a week, but things are starting to get back to normal, I think. Everyone seems to have recovered. I just hope it doesn't happen again."

"Me too." You responded, picking up a carton of eggs.

Unbeknownst go you, Hongjoong's ship had just docked at the town and the captain was making his way down the wharf.

You had just paid the cashier for the groceries and were headed back to the hostel when suddenly your wrist was grabbed and you were pulled away from Seonghwa into a small alley between two buildings. You jerked in the person's grip, trying to break free until you saw their face.

"What are you doing here?" You spat.

"What are you doing here?" Hongjoong turned the question back to you. "And what in the seven seas are you wearing?"

"I'm helping, and if you must know, this is the uniform I was given."

"Uniform?" He repeated, his face twisted in distaste.

"I'm working at a small hostel. Did you know all of the staff quit after your little rampage?"

You could see Hongjoong's eyes soften for a moment before he quickly covered it up.

"Why did you even come looking for me?" You questioned, harshly.

"You're part of my crew."

"Is that all I am to you? Just a crew member?"

"No."

"Well, that's what it feels like. Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

You started to walk away when Hongjoong grabbed you again.

"No you don't. You're coming back with me."

"I'm staying here."

"You don't have a choice, Y/n."

You jerked your arm away. "I do, and I choose to stay. You obviously don't need me back on that ship. You wasted your time coming back for me."

"You're wrong. I need you."

"You don't. You're the captain, remember? You make the decisions yourself. You don't need me to tell you what to do because in the end, you'll do what you want."

He opened his mouth to speak, but you continued.

"This whole captain thing has gone to your head. What happened to the Hongjoong I used to know?"

"I'm still the same Hongjoong."

"No, you're not. You've changed."

That's the last thing you said before walking back to Seonghwa, who was standing in the middle of the street with his mouth hanging open, his face as white as a sheet.

"Let's go." You grabbed his arm, pulling him in the direction of the hostel.

"D-do you know him?" Seonghwa asked, his head turned to stare at Hongjoong.

"I used to."

"He's the captain of the pirate crew that looted our town."

"I know."

"What?"

"It's a long story."

"If you're with him, then—"

"I'm not with him. I ran away. He wanted to pillage your town and I told him not to because this town is so selfless, but he didn't listen, so I left the ship."

"You're a pirate?" Seonghwa gaped.

"Yes."

"Is he going to take you back?"

"He's trying to."

Once you got back to the hostel, you gave Mrs. Park the items she asked for and hurried to your room, Seonghwa following behind.

"What are you going to do?" He asked.

"I don't know." You muttered, pacing back and forth. "I didn't know he'd come looking for me."

Just then, a loud thump came from the somewhere downstairs. You and Seonghwa shared a wide-eyed look before hurrying to the door. You peered over the shallow staircase and spotted Hongjoong at the front desk.

"You wouldn't happen to how a Y/n, would you?" He asked.

"No." Mrs. Park lied.

"I know she's here." Hongjoong spat.c"Where's her room?"

"Crap." You whispered, retreating to your bedroom where you frantically began packing your things.

"What are you doing? Where are you going?" Seonghwa questioned.

"I don't know. Away from here."

The dress you wore was restricting you immensely, making it hard for you to move around.

"I hate this thing." You grumbled.

"I have an idea. I'll go distract him while you change and make your escape."

You gave him a nod and gathered the clothes you arrived in, which had so generously been washed by Mrs. Park.

While Seonghwa was downstairs stalling, you quickly stripped off the confining dress, changing into your comfortable pirate attire. Not wanting to leave things in a mess, you hastily folded the dress and apron, lying it on the bed before you snuck out the window.

"You!" Hongjoong pointed when Seonghwa appeared downstairs. "Tell me where Y/n is."

"She's not here."

"Yes she is. Where are you hiding her?" He pressed.

"I already told you. She's not here."

Hongjoong's lip curled into a snarl as realization struck him. He then rushed out the front entrance, turning the corner to catch you just as your feet landed on the ground.

You were relived, feeling like you had successfully made your escape.

"You didn't think you could get away from me that easily, did you?"

Your heart sank.

Hongjoong grabbed you, pulling you out into the streets, yanking you towards the docks. You jerked and writhed in his grip, shouting at him to let go, but he wouldn't listen. Your heels dug into the dirt as you tried to stop Hongjoong, but it didn't work. His grip on you was too strong.

Seonghwa, who rushed out after Hongjoong, spotted him as he pulled you through town.

No one dared to help. It was obvious the townspeople recognized Hongjoong from the pillaging a week prior. They wouldn't dare try and stand up to him.

"I hate you!" You spat.

"I could care less about your feelings towards me."

"Clearly you do. If you didn't care that I was mad at you, you wouldn't have come looking for me."

His hand tightened around your wrist, which let you know you struck a nerve.

"Let go of me." You hissed.

"Not until we're back on the ship."

"Hey!" Someone cut in.

Hongjoong stopped in his tracks, turning to see who had shouted at him. You turned as well, gasping when you saw Seonghwa standing on the dock a few feet behind you.

"Let her go."

"And who do you think you are?"

"Her friend."

Hongjoong scoffed. "You've only known her for a week. You're not her friend. I'm her friend."

"Really? It doesn't look like it."

Hongjoong used his free hand to pull out his pistol, pointing it at Seonghwa.

"Stay out of our business before I put a bullet in your head."

"Hongjoong!" You snapped, pushing the barrel down. "What is wrong with you?"

He gave you a sharp glare before you turned to the man attempting to save you.

"Seonghwa." You placed your free hand on his shoulder. "I need to go."

"What?" He asked in disbelief. "You're going back?"

"I have to. There's things that need to be dealt with."

Seonghwa gave Hongjoong a skeptical look.

"It's not what you want, though."

"It's what needs to be done. Tell your mom I'm glad I could help her out, but that I needed to go. Good luck with your business."

Seonghwa gave you a sad look, but nodded in understanding.

As soon as Hongjoong had you back on the ship, he let you go, beginning to bark orders at the crew.

"Let's get out of here!"

While he was distracted, you hurried off, searching for Minho. You hadn't seen him on the deck, so you thought he was in his room.

You burst into his bedroom, but he was nowhere to be seen. After searching different areas of the ship, you found him in the galley, cleaning the tables.

"Minho!"

"Y/n. You're back." He responded, seeming surprised.

"Not by choice."

"Well, just because you're being forced to stay on this ship, doesn't mean you should be forced to be around Hongjoong. You can stay in my room if you want to."

"Thank you. What are you doing down here?"

"Hongjoong put me on kitchen duty when I refused to tell him where you were."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I don't mind cleaning up down here."

"Well, I appreciate that you kept my secret and tried to protect me." You smiled, giving him a light hug.

Just then, Hongjoong burst into the galley.

"I look away for two seconds and you've run off again. Now I find you hanging all over him."

He stormed over, grabbing your upper arm.

"Come here. We have some talking to do."

"Let go of her." Minho snapped. "You've forced her back on this ship. That should be enough."

"I'll deal with you later." Hongjoong pointed, pulling you out of the room.

You shouted at him as he dragged you all the way to the captain's quarters, calling him every name you could think of. Even when he released your arm, you continued ranting and raving.

"I can't even explain how angry I am right now!"

The door was then locked shut, causing you to spin around, abruptly. Hongjoong stood a few feet from you, his eyes dark as they stared into yours.

"Don't look at me like that. You have no right to be acting this w—"

You were cut off as Hongjoong pressed you against the door, his arms trapping you.

"I have every right to be acting this way. You're mine, remember?"

"I'm no one's."

You had barely gotten the sentence out of your mouth when his lips pressed harshly against yours. You had no time to react and were left frozen in place, your mind scrambling to make sense of what was going on.

Your eyes unconsciously fluttered closed as you allowed yourself to give in momentarily.

Hongjoong kissed you hungrily, letting out small growls that vibrated against your lips. You wanted so desperately to push him away. Your mind screamed at you to do so, but you couldn't. He had your mind in such a fog you couldn't seem to care what was wrong and what was right. Hongjoong's head tilted to the side, allowing his mouth to fit more closely with yours.

This is not right. This is not right.

Your senses finally kicked in and you pulled away, your hand making contact with Hongjoong's cheek as a resounding smack filled the air.

"What's wrong with you?"

Hongjoong placed a hand on his stinging cheek as he took a step back, a mildly shocked expression on his face.

"You got mad that I ran away, chased me down, acted like the biggest jerk ever, then all of a sudden you just kiss me?" You questioned. "What did you think that was gonna do?"

"I..." He trailed off.

"If you thought I would confess my love to you and forgive you, you're wrong. I don't love you. I love the old Hongjoong. The one who isn't this." You said, gesturing to him. "Just so you know, I'm sleeping in Minho's room tonight. If you need me, that's where I'll be." You told him, turning to leave.

"Wait." Hongjoong took hold of your wrist, this time much more softly, almost pleading. "Don't go."

You gave him an expectant look, waiting to see what he had to say. Though he was being a pompous jerk, he was still your friend and you were willing to hear him out.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me lately. You're right. This whole captain thing has gotten to my head. Being a pirate and being in charge of everyone made me feel like I could take whatever I wanted, that included you."

He paused, collecting his thoughts before continuing.

"The truth is, I love you—yes, I said love. Before you and I started this journey together I liked you, but over the years that turned into something more. My feelings for you combined with my sudden superiority complex made me think you belonged to me. In reality, I just couldn't stand the thought of not seeing you again. It made my chest hurt."

Your gaze softened a bit.

Truthfully, you'd held some feelings for Hongjoong. Though, you tried to bury them, they were slowly resurfacing after his heartfelt confession.

"I had no reason to go after you like that. I should have just let you stay. You were right. You don't belong to me." He added.

That's all it took.

You grabbed his collar, pulling him forward and swiftly placing your lips on his. Hongjoong's words meant a lot to you and you were more than willing to forgive him.

He was stiff at first, not expecting you to initiate the kiss. Then, once he registered what was happening he started to reciprocate, kissing you with just as much hunger and ferocity as he was minutes earlier. There was so much passion and desperation in the kiss that it left you breathless. One of his hands made it's way to your waist while the other rested on your upper back, pulling you closer to him. His lips fully encased yours a few times before taking your bottom lips between his teeth. You were blown away by his kissing skills, your mind and body turning to mush.

When he parted ways, you found yourself gasping for breath, your chest heaving up and down. You didn't get a lot of time to relax as Hongjoong began leaving open-mouth kisses down your neck. Your breath caught in your throat as your fingers tangled themselves in Hongjoong's tousled mullet, grabbing at the long strands. Small gasps left you when his teeth grazed your skin. You never thought he would be so bold, but you weren't complaining at all.

Hongjoong pulled away, his eyes glazed over as he stared into your own. His lips were puffy from the intense makeout session and his cheeks were flushed—and this time it wasn't from alcohol.

"Don't ever run away from me again." He murmured hoarsely, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

"Don't do anything stupid and I won't."

He let out a short chuckle. "I promise. I also wanna say that I'm sorry for looting that town. I should have listened to you. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you."

"Whatever it takes?" You questioned.

He nodded.

"Well, there is one thing."

Hongjoong returned the stolen items to the small town, apologizing for his actions. He continuously said he wasn't the type of person to do such horrible things and that he hopes the townspeople could forgive him.

Being the selfless people they were, the citizens forgave Hongjoong and even allowed him to keep some of the things he and the crew had looted. It was just enough supplies to last everyone until they got to another town. Mrs. Park and Seonghwa were happy to see you and understood that, while you had a good time staying in the town, your true home was at sea with Hongjoong. Mrs. Park even gave you her specialty cake as a parting gift.

"I baked it after you left." She told you.

"Don't you want to save some of this for yourself?"

"No." She shook her head. "You take it. Share it with the crew and that headstrong captain of yours."

You chuckled at her choice of adjective.

"He wasn't always so headstrong." You commented, glancing across the way at Hongjoong as he chatted with one of the townspeople. "That's why I'm here to be his voice of reason."

"Good." Mrs. Park smiled. "A man like him needs a strong woman by his side to keep him in check."

You chuckled lightly in response.

"Hey." Hongjoong cut in as he approached, snaking an arm around your waist. "We should get going."

You gave Seonghwa and Mrs. Park a bittersweet smile. "Thank you both for all the fond memories and giving me somewhat of a vacation."

"You're welcome." Seonghwa grinned.

"Come back anytime, dear." Mrs. Park smiled warmly.

With that, everyone boarded the ship and set sail once again.

"Mrs. Park gave me a cake." You smiled, showing Hongjoong. "It's her specialty."

"Looks good. Why don't we try it out?"

"It's to share with the crew." You told him, pulling it away.

"I'll share." Hongjoong responded with pleading eyes.

"I'll make sure you do."

"Hey." He piped up. "You know what goes good with cake?"

"What?"

"A party!"

For the first time in months, a party actually sounded fun.

Sour notes traveled through the night air as the crew sang out of tune. The celebration had just kicked off, so you knew the unpleasant singing wasn't from alcohol, though you expected it to get worse as the night went on.

Even Minho joined in on the celebrating, singing along with the crew and dancing around.

You sat alone on the forecastle deck watching the stars, the garbled singing once again becoming background noise.

The gentle thump of boots approaching caught you attention. You turned your head just as Hongjoong sat down next to you.

"What are you doing up here all alone? The party's not boring, is it?"

"No. I just wanted to watch the stars."

"Well, I brought you a slice of cake."

"Ah. Thank you." You smiled, taking the small plate from him. "What about you?"

"I thought we could share it." He responded, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

You tried to hold back a grin as he took the fork, getting a small bite of cake, bringing it to your lips.

You allowed Hongjoong to feed you, your eyes widening once you tasted the sweet treat.

"Mrs. Park was right. This is definitely her specialty." You commented.

"Wait." Hongjoong reached out, his fingers delicately holding your chin, turning you towards him. "You have something on you."

You didn't have time to respond as Hongjoong leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip, sending a rush of heat across your face.

He parted ways, letting out a chuckle as he licked his lips. "Got it."

You playfully smacked his shoulder, turning away in embarrassment.

"I can't believe you did that."

"But you liked it."

"A little." You responded, shyly.

"Oh. I almost forgot." He muttered, getting to his feet. "Wait here."

Hongjoong hurried off, returning moments later.

"Look what I got." He held up a bottle. "I told you I'd get us some fine wine."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Someone in that town gave it to me. He said it's meant to be shared with someone you love and then gestured to you." He chuckled. "I don't know how he knew we were together, but I have wine because of it."

"What are you waiting for? Let's open it."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

He popped the cork on the bottle, handing it to you. "M'lady." He offered.

You gladly took the bottle, taking a sip and humming in approval before handing it to him.

Your head rested on his shoulder as he took a large gulp of alcohol, setting the bottle on the deck.

"I love you, Hongjoong."

The words unconsciously slipped out, but you didn't care. Hongjoong's head rested on top of yours as he responded.

"I love you too, Y/n."

Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

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#hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x y/n #pirate hongjoong #ateez pirate au #ateez imagines #kpop oneshots #ateez oneshot #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #Hongjoong pirate au

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ltwilliammowett · 7 months

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Sea Shanties and Shipboard Music aboard Warships

Traditionally, sea shanties were sung on board both warships and merchant ships to help light the work involved in sailing the ship. They are usually divided into two main groups - capstan shanties, designed to accompany the hard effort involved in heaving on the bars of the ship's capstan, and halyard shanties, where either the rhythm or the words were designed to help the men pull together, for instance when raising a sail pr raising up a new spar to the masthead.

Most shanties follow the same pattern, with short versesand boisterous but repetitive choruses. Sometimes the lyrics were either made up aas the seamen went along, or else improvised or repeated, especially if the task proved longer than the shanty. The words were often less important than the rhythm of the song, although some shanties such Shenandoah or Blow the Man Down have become famous as songs in their own right. Oh and by the way the first known shanties date from the mid-16th century, recorded in the Complaynt of Scotland (1549), but their origins probably lie much further back than that.

It has been argued that sea shanties were much more commonplace on merchant vessels than on warships, as the later were comparatively well manned, so the labour involved in sailing the ship was less arduous. This theory isn't borne out by what we know about life in the sailing navies of the world. While shanties might have been less commonly used as working songs, they were widdely sung as a means of recreation. Music was important on board a sailing man o'war, and instruments such as fiddles, fifes and flutes were often played when sailors were off-duty. And the sailors loved singing on board until ordered to their hammocks at pipe down, these shanties are known as fo'c's'le songs or forebitters. Dancing was also popular, and many captains encouraged it, as a way of keeping spirits high and of providing exercise.

Popular songs in the Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars were Nancy Dawson, Spanish Ladies and Drops of Brandy and some ships carried an official band, and during the approach of the British Fleet to the enemy at the Battle of Trafalgar, many ships played Rule Britannia, Hearts of Oak or Britons Strike Home.

Shanties during work on board depended on the captain, because not everyone wanted music. It was more like silence aboard a warship so that the men could hear the orders better and not get lost in the singing. But it also happened that there was singing or a flute was played when the anchor was being aweight but that mostly depending on the situation on the ship.

Well the truth was, music such as sea shanties made the work appear easier, whether on board a merchant vessel or a warship. But the shanties went out of favour with the coming of steam. With no sails to raise, and with steam powered capstans there was little need to sing during work. By the later 19th century they had lost their original workmanlike purpose, and shanties became something that were sung for fun and get mixed with the so called sailors songs, rather than as a song of work.

#naval history #sea shanties #mid 16th century -19th century #age of discovery #age of sail #age of steam

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undiscovered-horizon · 10 months

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"Sea shanties" - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[mentions of a minor injury and blood]

SUMMARY: Alina catches Sturmhond in a surprising moment of weakness when he's quietly watching you sing to yourself and fix the net.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.7k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

The cold wind nips at your exposed skin and part of you beckons you to return under the deck to finish sewing the net back together. But you dread returning among the sailors: despite truly being a lovely bunch, their constant chattering and liveliness can wear you out. The berths and cabins are warm, yes, but the sea is silent, predictable and, most of all, doesn’t expect engagement. As long as you let her be, she leaves you alone in return. Here, where cold wind tugs at your clothes and saltwater spray your face, you can finally take a deep breath and relax your tense shoulders. Stitching the nets is a very monotone, maybe even boring, activity but it’s exactly what you need. Your hands fix the knots on their own, guided by experience, allowing your mind to let go of duties and worries, to slip away into much more pleasant thoughts.

“I’ll wander, weep and moan. All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home,” you sing barely above a whisper. Truthfully, you can’t recall where you learned the song. It’s as if you’ve always known it, the melody haunting you whenever you’re getting lost in thought.

Alina lets out a sigh of relief when she finally finds Sturmhond. For a moment she was really considering whether he could snap his fingers and vanish. He’s leaning against the doorframe but his broad shoulders still block most of the view of the deck. Sturmhond is completely oblivious to her presence and Alina has a bit too much spite in her to let the opportunity go. She quietly approaches him, harbouring a wicked hope that maybe she can scare him and single-handedly rub away that smug smirk of his.

She stops a pace or two behind him, taking in a deep breath to yell right into his ear. "Sturmhond, I-"

But the privateer is quick to silence her:

"Keep your voice down!" he hisses at Alina.

The Sun Summoner frowns at the privateer. Not only did she not scare him but also seems to be interrupting something. And considering his wish to keep things quiet, Sturmhond is doing something he knows he shouldn’t. She stares at him through half-closed eyes, beaming with suspicion, when she hears a faint hum distracting her from constructing some passive-aggressive remark. Alina recognizes your voice, although it sounds a lot softer than what she’s used to. Being the boatswain, you’re mostly heard yelling out orders for the maintenance crew that you’re watching over; forcing seafarers to tie perfect knots, no matter how many tries it takes them and raising Hell for the smallest error in repairing sails. Even if you might come off as harsh, credit is due as Volkvolny’s sails and equipment are kept impeccable. Your discipline has definitely played a significant part in Sturmhond’s successful betrayal of the Black General.

Listening in, over the howling wind and crashing waves, Alina and Nikolai eavesdrop on the sombre song you’re singing quietly to yourself — a story of a woman mourning her lover who never returned from the sea. Despite the heaviness of the words leaving your mouth, your voice is rid of dread as though such a woeful story is nowhere near relatable to you. Alina doesn’t notice that detail but Sturmhond surely does. In fact, it brings him a sense of relief: after all, how could he compete with a dead man for your love?

A mischievous smile creeps onto Alina’s face as she’s looking between you and Sturmhond. As far as she can tell, you’re completely oblivious to the small audience watching you go about your duties. The sailor, however, is unable to control his soft expression and that lovesick, mellow look in his eyes. To be honest, Sturmhond looks so removed from reality, he might actually be unaware that there are more people in the world than just him and you.

“So, genius privateer Sturmhond, the fright of the sea is in love with the boatswain,” Alina whispers, barely holding in an impish snicker, “but instead of his usual bravado he cowers away, settling for watching her from afar like a creep.”

He seems to ponder her words for a moment, nodding his head ever so slightly. “That is a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?” he asks. Nikolai appears to be well aware of his affliction but rendered powerless in the face of his heart’s desire, he can only accept the state of things.

“I wanted to say pathetic but either way works.”

Sturmhond looks at Alina out of the corner of his eye but only for a moment, unwilling to waste any more time not admiring you. “Wouldn’t it be more pathetic to be the best privateer in all of Ravka’s history but not know love?”

Alina clenches her fists. She puckers her lips, suddenly feeling hot as blood rushes to her face. Saints have mercy - he’s right. The sole act of seeing eye to eye with the blond man isn’t as terrible as the act of admitting it and stroking his ego. “I hate to say it but I agree,” she grits through her teeth.

Nikolai notices her discomfort. He doesn’t hide a certain satisfaction in the effect he has on her - it’s amusing to see her paper mache confidence falter, although he is painfully aware that this will prove problematic later on. “Oh my, I might think you actually tolerate me.”

She forces herself into a contemptuous scowl - it’s a little overdone to be considered natural. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Alina dismisses him.

“You know, I might be an incredible captain and all but without her…” Sturmhond shakes his head. His eyes follow your barely noticeable movements as you weave the net back together. “This whole ship would have already sunk.”

But she doesn’t believe him - not entirely. If she is to believe Tamar, and Alina doesn’t have much reason not to, Sturmhond chose Volkvolny despite having more captain-worthy vessels available. “Somehow, I don’t believe you’d allow that.”

“Right. If she wasn’t on this ship, I wouldn’t be either.”

Alina almost comes to the conclusion that you’re the sole reason he chose Volkvolny to be his flagship but she mostly dismisses that thought - Sturmhond may be doting but he’s far from completely losing his mind. He simply doesn’t give the impression of someone who’d shuffle his life around just to be able to creep on his boatswain. Little did she know at the time but the strangeness and dread the future holds is going to prove her wrong.

Their conversation is halted when one of the sailors on night watch passes by them. Alina recognizes him by the burn mark spreading across the right side of his face. Tolya called him ‘Marquis’. His long, blond hair sway in the cold wind. As he’s carrying a heavy crate from starboard to port, he’s quietly singing along to your song with certain carelessness as though he’s not entirely aware he’s doing it:

“My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me-”

Alina yawns. She’s had a long, exciting day and tomorrow is not going to be any easier, that she’s sure of. Whatever she wants to tell Sturmhond will have to wait until dawn when the captain wriggles free of his heart’s restless desires. Even though at first she’s annoyed that she has to wait because Sturmhond decided to play a lovesick teenager, she quickly finds it may be for the best: an in-depth discussion will surely erupt between the two of them and doing so when the moon is high just doesn’t seem like the best idea. Aside from that, she can really use a few more hours of sleep.

The Sun Summoner murmurs something resembling ‘Goodnight’ to Sturmhond and turns around to go back to the room she shares with Tamar, when a great wave shakes the ship, throwing her against a wooden wall. Despite the impact not being exceptionally painful to her, she’s sore anyway, the sound of it carried quite well.

Hearing a thud, you look up out of reflex. Glancing around the deck, your watchful eyes stop on Sturmhond, who’s staring back at you. The privateer gives the impression that you’ve just become privy to a side of him he’s not so keen on showing. Perhaps ‘side’ doesn’t quite mirror the idea. ‘Layer’ seems more fitting. It’s as though he dropped the facade of quick wit and evasive answers, only to show the exhaustion of a man carrying the world on his shoulders for a day too long. Despite the silence and distance between you, this staring feels intimate; both of you are showing something raw to one another in the gullible hope that the other will keep it secret.

He appears different, more calm than smug, than he does during the day, although still beautiful enough to make you flustered. Truly, he looks like he breaks the hearts of naive girls for a living. Despite that, as well as your experience with sailors in general, you found yourself craving his attention. Whether it’s intentional or not, Sturmhond has the ability to make people feel seen and their efforts acknowledged. Considering that establishing your position among sea dogs as a woman is a real challenge, maybe it was your hurt ego that clawed at any possibility or delusion of your exceptionalism. And maybe the privateer never intended for you to be hopelessly in love with him. Sure, the two of you have flirted back and forth but you never assumed it means as much to him as it does to you. It’s just the way he is, right?

A sharp, stinging pain in your finger makes you yelp. Discarding fantasies about the blond man in an awful frock coat, you look at your sore hand, now noticing a drop of crimson slowly rolling down your skin.

“Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself.

You put the bleeding finger against your lips. It’s a small cut, it shouldn’t bleed longer than a minute or two and then you can get back to-

“Are you alright?”

Sturmhond’s worried tone elicits mixed but engaging feelings from you. On one hand, you’re giddy at any crumb of attention he gives you. On the other hand, you just failed at the second easiest maintenance job a ship can have - one Hell of a way to make a good impression on the captain that always seems to fall on four paws.

“Yeah, just pricked my finger with a needle fixing the net. Nothing fatal.”

“Why are you doing this anyway? You’re a boatswain. This is a deckhand’s job,” he says as he grabs the net from your hands and tosses it aside.

“Believe it or not but I actually enjoy this. It’s peaceful, helps me get my mind off of things.”

He gives you a cocky half-grin. “Pricking your finger is just a tasteful addition, I presume?”

“Oh, you know, just trying to enrich things,” you joke back.

Sturmhond lets out a quiet, resigned sigh. Of course, you told everyone to go to sleep and finished the odd jobs yourself. “Have Tamar look at this,” he says in a soft voice. Despite the suddenly mild demeanour, his smug expression stays in place. “I’ll get someone else to finish.”

“Alright, captain,” you reluctantly agree. “But can it wait a few minutes? I like it here.”

Your gaze returns to the sapphire waves and black firmament, the line of horizon barely distinguishable between them. To your own surprise, Sturmhond sits down next to you on a barrel. “Just a few,” he says insincerely. You may not know it but he’s willing to sit there with you for much longer than a few minutes.

Volkvolny bobs on the waves, headed somewhere in the South-East direction. Cold water sprays on your face and clothes but you don’t mind it. It’s quite refreshing. Only now do you notice how quiet the ship is. Most of the crew must already be asleep, revelling in the few hours of rest they have until dawn. The thought of sleeping sailors makes you aware of your own exhaustion, both physical and mental.

You barely stifle a yawn. Too tired to think twice, you lay your head against Sturmhond’s shoulder. He doesn’t shy away, quite the contrary - he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to his torso ever so slightly. He smells like expensive, imported cologne and seaweed. The fragrance is hardly likable but you’ve grown to earn some masochistic pleasure from it simply because it belongs to him. The blue frock coat he’s wearing feels nice against your skin.

“Why do you always sing that song?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.

“I always sing or hum doing manual jobs. It’s a habit I can’t kill,” you answer quietly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open and you can hear your words starting to slur. “I grew up in Novokribirsk. I know a lot of shanties.”

“Know anything happier than mourning a sailor?”

“Hardly,” you let out a tired chuckle. “Somehow, sailors have an aversion to happy songs. There’s one you might like.” You clear your throat, trying to recall the song from your cloudy, tired memories. “I’m a broken man on the Os Kervo pier, the last of Ravka’s privateers.”

Sturmhond furrows his eyebrows and he shakes his head in disapproval. “No, it’s still depressing.” Whether he means to or not, his finger is gently brushing circles against your arm.

“Alright, another one, um… Oh! Don’t haul on the ropes, don’t climb up the mast. If you see a sailing ship, it might be your last.”

“Ominous and tedious. I’m actually surprised you can put both in one song.”

To Sturmhond’s dissatisfaction, you pull away from him. Still, the distance between you is considerably small and you feel each other’s breaths on your skin. With half-lidded eyes out of exhaustion, you give him a wide smile. His breath shakes in his chest.

“You know, you might be the most optimistic sailor I’ve ever met,” you confess.

He could kiss you right now. Saints only know how much he wants to. If the odds are in his favour, and his vanity would like to think they are, you might even kiss him back. Or at least not slap him. Would your lips feel soft and warm against his? Would you taste of saltwater and rye bread like he always imagines? Would you giggle nervously after? In that specific way that makes him forget to breathe?

But Sturmhond can only hope your tired mind can’t compute his nervousness. “Does that title come with a prize?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Is being the most optimistic sailor truly worth such honour?” he says in an overly dramatic tone. He jokingly puts his hand on his chest. “Are you not underestimating your presence, my lady?”

“You get extra credit because I like you. A lot.”

Sturmhond swallows nervously. Since when does he get nervous around women? For a moment you’re just staring at each other again. The desire to push his lips against yours is back flooding his mind, now stronger and more desperate than before. The first chance might have been a coincidence but the second… He slowly leans in, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. But you look just as lovely as you did in the morning. His nose almost brushes yours and-

“I might have a happy one,” you suddenly speak up. You look back at the sea, furrowing your eyebrows in deep thought. “Saints, how did it go?” you whisper to yourself. “Prick your finger, it is done. Roll her out and spread her wings, the time has come for better things.”

Having mastered self-control, Sturmhond doesn’t make his disappointment visible. The third time’s the charm, right? “First one that doesn’t make me want to drown myself.” The bitterness in his voice is almost inaudible but you’re too tired to notice.

“I’ll sing you the whole thing but that has to wait until morning, alright?”

“I’m holding you to that.”

His heart quickens its beat when you lay your head back on his shoulder. He should probably tell you to go back to your berth and get some sleep but maybe it can wait a few minutes? He likes it here.

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