#sunny x buggy

[rorywritesjunk]

No one:

Absolutely no one:

Me while grocery shopping: omg the whole Buggy/Sunny/Croc fic reminds me of that image of Raul Esparza, Anne Hathaway, and Audra McDonald from Twelfth Night.

Me, loading my car of groceries: obv this isn't like the play but that image has that same energy I feel. Sunny in the middle, Croc holding his hook up to her, Buggy clinging to just a little bit of attention from her, wanting to be close.

#not a fic #my own brain rot #buggy the clown #sir crocodile #sunny x buggy #sunny x crocodile #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #sir crocodile x oc #crocodile x oc

[hey-august]

I'm comin' apart at the seams | (Buggy x OC)

Ahhhhh, this is a birthday gift for @rorywritesjunk 🎁 I hope you like it even though it's not birthday-themed.

I chose Sunny because she's just the sweetest and I thought she'd fit this story well. I'm sure she's ooc, but I hope I captured her spirit. 🩷

Word count: ~1.8k

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x OC, buggy x sunny!!, fem OC, mentions of PIV sex, dadbod buggy

(Presumptive tag for @paperclippedmime since you were curious about the apples 👀)

Title from "Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes" by Fall Out Boy

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Something was wrong. Something has been wrong. And Buggy wasn’t sure how much longer he could hide it from Sunny. It started small. An extra shimmy to pull on his pants. A deep exhale to reach the usual notch on his belt. Unbuttoning his pants after a big meal. Then his shirts felt a little snug. Pulling on the sleeves and the bottom hem would help, but only for so long. Soon, he couldn’t tighten his belt to the same spot. The problem was growing.

Sunny made such tasty food, it was hard for Buggy to decline. Not only was the pirate addicted to his wife’s cooking, but to the smile she’d bestow when he complimented her skills. Treats came with a kiss on the cheek. Snacks were ready when his stomach grumbled. She’d set out a pastry with his morning coffee. Sunny always knew what Buggy was in the mood for before he knew. And it was always delicious.

Buggy stared at himself in the full length mirror, twisting and turning to assess the full extent of his indulgences. Was his rear always that round? Was the belly pooch new? He poked his stomach, wondering what was from years of yeasty beer and rum and what was from married life. Regardless of where the excess came from, Buggy was resolved to get rid of it before Sunny noticed.

He started by waking up before her. As the sun started to crest the horizon, Buggy would slip out of bed bit by bit and limb by limb. It was tedious, but the slow retreat kept the bed from shifting too much and allowed Sunny to stay wrapped in sleep. Once out of bed, Buggy would jog around the deck with a deep scowl on his face - a warning that anyone else awake at this hour should keep their mouth shut. He’d keep an eye on the sun’s journey and sneak back into the room just in time for Sunny to roll over and assume her husband had also just woken up and gotten out of bed.

The morning excursions weren’t enough, though, and Buggy was worried that Sunny would notice. That she would think Buggy is letting himself go. That she could do better than some chubby clown. The ache from that possible future pushed the pirate to do something he never dreamed of doing - turning down some of Sunny’s treats. The morning pastry would be ripped half to share with Sunny, even when it was his favorite one dusted in powdered sugar. (He’d still lick the sugar off his fingers, though.) Buggy would only take a bite of what Sunny would offer him and go on a tangent about how it was too good and he wanted to save space to eat it later.

Buggy might have gotten away with it all if it wasn’t for the apples. The goddamn apples.

Sunny stared at the uneaten food left on Buggy’s desk. It was a small plate with one of his favorite snacks - apple slices and peanut butter. And he didn’t take a single bite. Sunny knew her husband usually got hungry around this time of day. He hadn’t been eating well recently, so she made it look extra enticing. She peeled some of the bright red skin, leaving behind little shapes that made the slices look like bunnies. They were placed in a circle, facing the spoonful of peanut butter smeared on the center of the plate. What were once happy grazing bunnies were now oxidized bits of fruit surrounding an oily lump of ground nuts.

Footsteps entered the room behind her and Sunny turned to see Buggy. All the emotions and thoughts swirling through her burst out in one confused and upset question.

“Do you not like me anymore?”

Sunny usually wasn’t the one to carry the self-doubt in this relationship. She held the other end of that rope, doting on Buggy and reminding him of her love. But weeks of her husband sneaking away every morning, turning down the food she made him, not wanting to bathe with her, and pulling away when all she wanted was a hug had worn her down. Sunny felt raw and exposed. She felt like a forgotten apple slice.

The question wasn’t answered with words, but an embrace. Buggy wrapped his arms around her, placed a hand on the back of her head, and held her close. This was what Sunny would do whenever Buggy spouted similar fears.

“Why would you ever think that?” He asked her the same question she asked him.

“You didn’t eat your snack, Buggy.” 

“I just forgot about it.” Buggy followed the fib by popping a soggy apple bunny in his mouth. “That can’t be the only reason, is it?”

Sunny shook her head against his chest, listening to the conflicted voices in her head. One told her to stop now and just enjoy the moment and enjoy the hug. The other told her that this wasn’t enough. Deciding both were right, Sunny wrapped her arms around Buggy’s waist and squeezed. She felt Buggy stiffen and try to pull away, but she held him tighter until her arms began to burn with the effort.

“No, not yet. I feel like you’ve been avoiding me,” Sunny finally confessed against his chest.

Buggy pried himself from Sunny’s hold before responding. “Never! I always want to be near you. In fact, you’re the one that banned me from the kitchen that one time.”

“You sneak out of bed early every morning.” Sunny felt a little bit of satisfaction watching the color drain from the unpainted parts of his face. “Babe, you're everywhere when you sleep. We're always touching, of course I’m going to notice when you leave, no matter how clever you think you’re being.”

Buggy opened his mouth to respond, but Sunny grabbed his hands and kept going. “Honestly, I don’t mind if you have secrets. You should have your own things, Buggy, but this feels like it involves me. Is there anything that I should know?”

“I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t want you to realize that I’m not good enough for you and then you go and find a better, more sexy pirate husband, who dresses well and wears glasses and his clothes fit…” The words exploded out of Buggy’s mouth, squeezed by the anxiety wrapped around him. He tugged at the stomach of his shirt, trying to alleviate some of the constricting feeling.

The words continued even when Sunny tried to stop them with her lips. The flow only ceased when Sunny held his face in her hands, pulling his gaze to her own.

“Buggy, I already have a sexy pirate husband. I don’t want a different one.”

“R-really? Even if…?”

“Even if what? I love you as you are.” Sunny’s words were just like her. Warm, comforting, and honest. Lingering doubts that couldn’t be eased away with words, were soothed with actions later that evening. 

Buggy sat on the edge of his desk with Sunny’s fingers tangled in his hair. Tugging his head back, she trailed kisses down his neck. Airy groans buzzed under her lips until she reached the collar of his shirt. Rather than waiting for him to disrobe, Sunny kept going. Running her hands along his soft stomach, through the hair on his chest, and back down to the hem of the shirt so she could pull it off. 

Any protests from Buggy were kept at bay with more kisses and nips, anything to keep his mouth occupied with something other than words. Once the shirt was off, the kisses traveled down to adorn his chest and decorate the stomach he still felt sensitive about. Sunny could feel the tension in his body, the conflict of whether or not he should suck in his gut, and the desire to enjoy the moment. 

Sweet words and descriptions of what lay in store for the evening were mumbled against Buggy’s body. How she likes holding his hips while sucking him off, that she loves to watch how his body moves when she’s bouncing on top of him, the way she feels so deliciously overpowered when he’s thrusting into her from behind and his heaviness presses her into the mattress. Again, words turned into actions, ones that had Buggy’s eyes rolling into the back of his head and Sunny crying his name throughout the night.

Buggy slept in the next morning. It was the first time in a long while and it felt good. Rolling over in bed, the pirate was surprised to see Sunny already awake and busy with a project. She was sewing something. Her skilled movements brought a lazy smile to Buggy’s face as he watched his wife.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

“I think you mean sexy, pirate husband,” Buggy said in a low morning voice, earning a chuckle in response. “Whatcha doing?”

“I put a bit of elastic in your pants so they’re more comfortable. They’ll fit the same, just with a bit more stretch, see?” She held them up and demonstrated.

Feeling a quiver in his lip, Buggy wiggled closer to Sunny so he could wrap her in his arms and press his face into her abdomen. She placed a hand on his head and listened to the words he spoke against her body. They were muffled, but Sunny knew what he was saying.

---

Sunny joined Buggy on his morning jog exactly one time. Not because she didn’t enjoy it - quite the opposite, actually - but because she was unprepared. She wasn’t ready for what the pirate captain’s workout entailed.

His outfit was the first surprise. Tube socks, shorts that showed a teasing amount of thigh, a sleeveless shirt, a high ponytail, and a sweatband. Sunny didn’t even know he had some of these articles of clothing, let alone that he'd be so comfortable in them. The outfit was a gift that kept giving. The shorts crept up his legs as he moved. The top kept his shoulders and arms on display. Even though the sweatband was doing its job, sometimes Buggy would pull his shirt up and wipe the moisture from his face, giving Sunny a full view of his glistening body.

And then there were the exercises Buggy did. In addition to the jogging, he added in a few other sets. Lunges up the stairs that worked his glutes. Push-ups that flexed his arms and came with tantalizing grunts. And the worst (or was it the best) was climbing the ship’s rigging. He moved with the skill and instinct that comes from a life at sea. And it was a turn on. When Buggy got back on the deck, he pulled up his shirt to wipe his face, yet again, and Sunny had to pull him below deck for a different kind of workout.

🎂🎁🤡

#buggy the clown #sunny x buggy #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy

[gildedmuse]

Guys, guys!

Just found out that Mihawk is "working" for Buggy now.

A few things:

1. You just know Shanks be so proud of two of his boyfriends.

2. Mihawk will die if his little rabbit finds out.

#sorry just bursting #one piece #roronoa zoro #mizo #law posting news reports of this all over the sunny #making sure his zoro-ya knows #dracule mihawk #mihawk x zoro #mihawk x shanks #shanks x buggy #buggy d clown #i dont know how to react #oh wait I do #turn it gay #amusing musings #akagami no shanks #the other boyfriend left blank for your imagination #its Benn #Shanks's other boy is Benn

[cinnbar-bun]

Affinity (Various OP Characters x Reader)

Characters: Brook, Buggy, Beckman, Crocodile, Zoro, Mihawk, Corazon, Shanks, Law

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~4k

A/n: Reader is GN! I kinda made this after hearing about a special thing in my religion, and decided I wanted to do this. I of course made it more romantic in nature than the original idea goes, but hey, romance! I had my followers choose 7 originally but it went to 9, which is a very lucky number in my religion so maybe it was a sign? Who knows! Please enjoy <3

Tagging: @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 @undeadeurydice @i-am-vita @kiribuchi @therosietoesy (sorry, I forgot who asked for Law my bad)

———————————————————————

There is a belief that before you are born, you were once a soul that had existed with other souls. Souls who had an affinity for each other would find that affinity carried in their time as a human. Souls who repelled each other would find that distaste carried over as well. Perhaps it was preordained, fate, destiny- whatever you’d call it. Regardless, it seems your soul has met with someone who once had an affinity for you…

Brook

Being an undead figure unable to pass on was not what Brook had in mind. In some ways, he was grateful for another chance at life, another chance to do what he previously was too dead to finish. Albeit, being a pile of bones did have its drawbacks.

While he could still function and do things many humans did, fact was, he was anything but. One look at him would easily make him stand out as something like a freak of nature.

Skeletons cannot love and be loved like a human. He could hold, but could not be held like a human. Admittedly, it had bothered him on occasion, but he always tried to brush it off with a simple hum or shrug. After all, he had his friends and crewmates- and he had a promise to continue fighting for. That should be enough.

But he couldn’t stop his eyes (if he had any) from wandering… couldn’t stop the way his mind wondered…

Just what could it be like if I too could fall in love?

Ah, but that’s such a silly thing for a skeleton to consider. Who could ever love the undead remains of someone long forgotten?

He’d practically given up on such silly notions like love or a relationship- it didn’t fit his current predicament.

So Brook focused on his music and his performances instead. He held up his violin and decided to waste some time on this sunny day playing for his audience of a few blue birds chirping at this green park. It was beautiful and reminded him of his day with the Rumbar Pirates- agh, nostalgia was always his weakest attribute, he thinks.

His fingers drift along the strings of the instrument, peacefully playing his weary heart away. He doesn’t recognize he has another guest until he hears slow clapping.

“What?” He turns his head, surprised to see you on the bench, smiling and clapping.

“That was lovely,” you comment. Time slows still and your eyes meet, shining (e/c) eyes with hollow black sockets.

If he had skin, perhaps he would’ve been red or sweating buckets. As a skeleton, he was not able to do things. But Brook was still a man through and through, and he couldn’t help but freeze at seeing the way your eyes were soft and full of admiration.

“I’m glad you thought so. Music is my pride and joy.”

“I can tell,” you reply. “I felt like I forgot to breathe for a moment when I heard that. I’m sorry for watching, though, if you weren’t looking for an audience.”

“N-no, actually it was…” he was too caught up in the way his soul was resonating and burning within him. “I appreciate it actually. Would you like me to play a song for you?”

“Would you? I’d love to hear more!”

Buggy

Buggy never believed in things like soulmates or fairy tales or blah blah blah- it was all junk! The only thing he ever could trust was treasure- shiny, bright, treasure! What else did a pirate need or want?

Is what he would say out loud- Buggy, even at a young age, was secretly a romantic who refused to let himself be swept up in the sentiment. When him and Shanks would sail together on Roger’s ship, Shanks would often ask what he thought about love.

Unlike Buggy, Shanks was pretty honest and confident about his assertions. Buggy would stumble and try to keep the bravado up, pretending as if he didn’t secretly yearn for a person who could look past his red nose and maybe possibly sorta kinda like him? Was that too much to ask? If you were Buggy, the answer was yes, because he would never allow himself the chance to be soft or vulnerable with someone. Especially not when he was already so sensitive about his looks and attitude. The thought of letting his guard down to be loved terrified him- what if they left? What if they made fun of him, too?

It was just too much for his fragile ego, so he brushed it aside and continued his hunt for treasure.

“Now where the hell am I?” He yelled, tilting the map in his hand left and right, as if that would somehow make his destination clearer. “Kinda crappy treasure map is this?”

He glared and shoved the map back in his pocket as he stomped around this town. He hadn’t ever bothered to come to this place before, so everything was new for him. He glared at the kids who were pointing at his nose to scare them off (mission accomplished), but his foul attitude still didn’t lessen.

As Buggy turned a corner, he accidentally rammed into someone. They shrieked, and his hat fell off his face and covered his eyes.

“Watch it, will ya? I’m walkin’ he…” he pushed his hat back up and came face to face with perhaps the most gorgeous person he’s ever met. His mouth was wide open, gawking at you as you gave an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there,” you said sheepishly.

“Y-yeah it’s… it’s cool. No biggie,” he mumbled in a daze.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he returned to normal. “I mean, yeah, totally.”

You chuckle at his behavior, and something within Buggy’s chest makes it feel like there’s a million butterflies flapping inside his ribcage. He can’t help the dumb grin on his face as he laughs along.

“Sorry again, sir. I’ll keep an eye out for you next time,” you wink and begin walking away, making Buggy flabbergasted. N-next time? Was that a promise? He didn’t even realize what he was thinking before he turned around and tried to jog back to you.

“H-hey, wait up-!”

Beckman

Beckman was fairly ambivalent to the idea of a “soulmate” or “affinity”. Sure, he humored his often childish captain with those notions, but the fact was, Beckman was simply a sailor at heart. He didn’t think being “stuck” to someone was the life he wanted, and he was fairly sure a sane, rational person would not want to be the lover of a first mate to perhaps one of the most infamous pirate crews on the sea.

Now, this would imply you were sane and rational, and this would also imply that he was also not a sucker for you. Perhaps that was what made him attracted to you in the first place, or maybe it was something that gave him the idea that his captain wasn’t so off base.

When it came to you, Beckman was eager, a bit too eager, the others would joke. Whenever you called, he came running and answering like a loyal servant. Whenever you wrote, his lips would form a large smile while he refused to let the others look at the letter you sent. Whenever he was away from you for long periods of time, he drank a bit too much.

It was common place enough for the others to notice and tease him about, even if Beckman was adamant there was nothing there. You guys were just… friends, or something ambiguous like that. You didn’t need a label for your relationship. This was completely normal, you were normal, he was normal- nothing was out of the ordinary, so if they would please stop asking and make him confront those pesky feelings he-

Maybe he had a problem. He never felt this way for anyone else he encountered. You knew of his philandering, not seeming to care all that much, but damn it, even he couldn’t continue that streak because his mind would get occupied with you, you, you. Love was too complicated. Maybe this was the alcohol talking. Or Shanks getting in his head about “souls being attuned” or whatever spiritual jazz the red-haired captain would spout.

No, it really made sense, all things considered. There was no one else but you to make him quit fooling around with others on the islands he stopped at. There was no one else but you who invaded his thoughts, who plagued him day and night with those eyes, that smile, the way you hated that red cologne he once bought and-

Oh dear god, he was deep into this, wasn’t he?

Crocodile

Love? Spirits? Souls? Soulmates?

Yeah right, add that to the list of stupid things weak poets say to make their miserable lives have some meaning. You could jump through a million hoops to try and blame encounters and relationships on things like “destiny” or “fate”. To a man like Crocodile, however, “destiny” was just something he could control. Whether through bribes of money or through making them submit with his fearsome powers, “destiny” was nothing but another means of his affluence.

Only those who were weak and had nothing could not control their lives.

Something like love was a crutch used by those who had nothing to pretend they did. What was love to power? What was love to wealth? To fame? To greatness?

Love was the longest-running scam that Crocodile almost could be impressed with, if not for the fact that the sentiment around love made him want to gag.

Except, now he was actively looking for jewelry to buy you, flowers to deliver to your doorstep, and outfits to clothe you in for when you visited him.

It was almost disgusting how Crocodile was eagerly awaiting for your next arrival, for when he could be able to see you on the street or at his casino so he could see that face he adored so much. Those eyes that made him want to melt, that voice that echoed in his head, that smile that made him want to have an image of you adorned on his wall so he could always see it.

Something, he could never place what it was, drew him to you. Something made you seem to stand out to him in ways that no other could. He was Crocodile- world famous business man and pirate- he had no shortage of people throwing themselves at him or fearing him. Only to you was he trying his luck attempting to woo you to give him that look he loved. Only for you was he making excuse after excuse to continue seeing you, lying over and over that he had a reason to use you, that it was just a part of some master plan.

He exhaled another puff of his cigar and rubbed his temples.

Gods, why was he acting this way? He was Crocodile. Not a lovesick teenage boy, not some lonely man, not some simpering-

“Sir, (Y/n) has arrived.” His ears perked up as he quickly slicked back his hair.

“Is that so? Send them up,” he orders, grabbing his expensive cologne to spray onto him again.

Zoro

Zoro had never heard of the idea of soulmates or anything like that. When one lives, breathes, and dies by the sword, something like “soulmates” is just comical. He doesn’t need love to become the best swordsman. He didn’t need love to teach him how to pick up a sword and kill another with it. That was, in fact, the complete opposite of love.

Survival of the fittest, he thought. Nothing more, nothing less. You kill for bounties, bounties that pay, pay that gives you a chance to eat food. Nothing more to it. He never did more than he needed to, never worked harder for anything outside of his sword training and hunting. What else did a swordsman need to live?

He was currently drinking his fill at a local tavern of some random village he washed out upon. He didn’t care to get names, not when he was always moving, always killing, always leaving. “Zoro” was a passing chance encounter few got to ever meet or understand. He was fine with that. A bounty hunter didn’t need attachments. A bounty hunter definitely didn’t need someone weighing him down.

At the tavern, a few rowdy pirates were acting up. Yelling obscenities, throwing food and liquor at one another, making rude gestures- nothing out of the ordinary for drunk pirates. Zoro had no business with them, so he ignored them, continuing to order pint after pint.

It wasn’t until he heard a crash that he looked up. You were angrily yelling at one of the pirates who threw a drink at you, and his mates were drawing their weapons. It was clear you were outnumbered, so you looked around the bar for anyone that would help.

Normally, Zoro wouldn’t bother, figuring you dug your own grave by messing with pirates like that. However, when he glanced to your eyes, he found himself… staring. Lost. Entranced?

He didn’t know why he felt like he should protect you, but he always had a good intuition when it came to these sorts of things. He sighed, placed his mug down, then stood up, drawing his swords from their sheathes.

“Zoro,” he stated. A rare thing for him to admit so casually to a normal person. The pirates heard his name and shriveled up in fear. Zoro didn’t pay them any mind, instead tapping his sword against his shoulder impatiently. “Need me to shut these guys up?”

Mihawk

If you had asked a young Mihawk about love, he would have most certainly called you a fool for daring to think of such illogical things instead of focusing on one’s own strength and potential. While he had heard of the sentiments about love and soulmates before, he didn’t place much value into it. Love was a distraction from the training he could have done. Love was a waste of time. Love was just for weak-minded people who let themselves be vulnerable or gentle with another. Love wasn’t for people like him.

Which was why he was now trying to instill the opposite into his foolhardy protege, Zoro. Yes, yes, unfortunately, Mihawk was proven wrong from his earlier ways of thinking, and ever since then, he’s been doing his best to be a good man for you.

“I didn’t think a guy like you would have a partner…” Zoro would mumble.

“Of course I would. Do I not look like a suitable husband?” Mihawk replied as he was sipping his wine. “A marriage is only an aspect of your training and power.”

“How does cooking dinner help you train?” Zoro raised a brow, not believing a word.

“If you cannot handle a routine for even the most mundane and domestic of tasks, you cannot expect to be disciplined enough to train. If you think something like making your love a cup of tea or folding laundry is too hard or not worthy enough, you are not worthy enough to hold a sword.”

Zoro nodded, impressed by Mihawk’s reasoning (or maybe impressed at how you somehow made the world’s greatest swordsman so whipped and happy to make you dinner).

“Well, when you put it like that,” Zoro scratched his cheek, looking back at his mentor to see him staring at you longingly from the window. You and Perona were outside picking some of the vegetables at the garden, an activity you insisted upon doing despite Mihawk’s protests. You and the young lady were joking and laughing about something Perona said, and Mihawk sighed.

“Something wrong?” Zoro asked, unsure what Mihawk was thinking with his stoic appearance.

“No, not at all,” Mihawk shook his head, taking another sip.

“Then why did you sigh like that?” Zoro questioned. A smirk grew on Mihawk’s lips as he chuckled, continuing to look at you. You… you who were so special, who had become the apple of his eye, his strength, his joy, his passion.

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand it right now, my student,” Mihawk closed his eyes. “Fate is… it’s simply a humorous thing.”

Corazon

He always was a sensitive soul, despite his outer appearance and harsh exterior. But even as a child, Law could tell something was up with Corazon.

“Why are you always looking at them?” Law grumpily asked, folding his arms and raising a brow at his benefactor.

“Hm? At who?” Corazon dumbly responded, cigarette in his lips.

“You know who I mean! Don’t act stupid!” Law shouted. Corazon chuckled and exhaled the smoke.

“Sorry, gotta be more specific.”

Of course, Corazon knew who Law was referring to. It wasn’t like Corazon had hidden his affection for you, but that was for another time. You were something special, something that Corazon yearned for but could never have. Not when Doflamingo’s influence was so large and looming over his life. But even if Corazon himself could not love you so freely, he always did like to tell the young boy stories. Of course, Law, being a jaded little boy, had never really given thought to such things like “soulmates” or “souls knowing each other”. That was stupid and impossible.

Corazon liked to believe, though. It comforted him. It made him feel happy that, hey, even if this life perhaps didn’t work out for him and you, at least he had known you before. At least he was able to see you again. At least he got you in his life for a moment, even if it would end in nothing but heartache and pain. At he least, for just a bit, he got to see that smile, those eyes, and feel your hands over his.

It made his life a little less hard, a little less dull. The romanticism that despite Doffy meddling in his life, Corazon still had a chance with you, was meant to know and be with you… well, that was plenty enough for him. It made him happier, too, knowing Law was perhaps a soul he was acquainted with before. It made him feel like he was always going to be guaranteed love and kindness with you and Law, even if the world was unkind to him.

Yes, this new family he had found was perhaps where he belonged the most. With you and Law by his side, there was nothing more he could ask for.

Shanks

“You’re obsessed.”

“Am not!” Shanks yelled childishly at Beckman, before turning back to face the island they were planning on docking at soon. The wide smile on his face made it clear he was beyond excited to be there, and the other men chuckled.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on running off to see em?” Yassop asked, knowing the answer.

“Oh, stop bugging about it! It’s just a little reunion with (Y/n), not anything crazy,” Shanks waved off. He breathed into his palm and winced at the smell of his breath. “Crap, does anyone have any mouthwash?”

“I don’t think anything can get that stench out. If they hadn’t run away cuz of your smell before, I think you’re good now!”

“Haha, very funny guys. Besides, it’s just between friends. Nothing weird.”

Of course, that was a bit of a fib, but who doesn’t tell little white lies? Surely he’d be forgiven for saying that by whomever was possibly in charge of making this happen?

Shanks, even with his overwhelming power and influence, did believe in superstition. It would be foolish not to, especially in such a dangerous world that a pirate inhabits. Sure, some of them were old wive’s tales from scared-straight sailors, but he did find them having some merit. He didn’t like to discount the seemingly impossible, not when it made even the most outlandish things possible.

He believed it was fate he got to meet Buggy and be a part of Roger’s crew. He believed it fate he met little Luffy in Foosha Village. He also believed it was fate he saved you that day. Some things just “made sense” like that to Shanks. It certainly made his life more interesting while also giving him a chance to bother you as always.

“Oh, come on, you can’t really kick out your soulmate, can you?” Shanks would tease.

“Soulmate?” You laugh. “Is this your attempt at proposing to me?”

“Hey, if you’d like it to be, I can absolutely make it happen,” Shanks replied, an earnest look in his eyes. You smile at him- crap, how do you always manage to make him ache and miss you? It’s gotta be fate, because no way could anyone have his heart in tight vice like this.

“Well… if you’re insisting, Captain,” you begin, smirking at him. “Why not take me with you? As your soulmate.”

Shanks’s eyes widened and the look on his face was a mixture of bewilderment and excitement.

“You know I can always make room for you,” he answered, trying to steady himself.

“Good. Although, we could share a room.”

“You drive a hard bargain, dear,” he chugs his rum. “Cheers to us!”

Law

Since he was a young boy, Law always tried to remain by himself. You couldn’t really trust anyone in a world of piracy and violence like that. Corazon, of course, always recommended otherwise. He even shared stories about a place where souls all were together.

It didn’t sound plausible or even remotely make sense. How would you even know if your soul was supposedly affiliated with someone?

It had been years since those days and the loss of Corazon, and even though he tried his hardest not to, Law still kept those stories in his mind. They were pointless and silly, but they were something Corazon believed wholeheartedly, even saying it was a miracle he got to meet a young Law. In some ways, Law felt somewhat similarly.

Love wasn’t for someone like Law. Too damaged, too cold, too logical, too afraid to ever let that feeling grow. It was how he stayed and remained for his life, and how he was planning on operating for the rest of time.

Until you, quite literally, crashed into him.

Jeez, you had to be a pest. Or a virus. Or a parasite. Something like that, but gosh, you were contagious. When you smiled, he found himself wanting to smile back. When you talked, he found himself thinking over every word you spoke in great detail. Maybe he was overthinking things, maybe when you said you were happy to have met him that was just you being friendly. Or something.

Almost always his mind drifted to you, feeling a certain way for you that he didn’t feel with the others in his crew or from the Straw Hats. You were different.

Perfect? Maybe. Definitely too good for someone like him, he’d think. But even with that self-loathing and apprehension, he found himself being drawn to you like a magnet.

Cora, if this is what you meant before…

Damn it, now he was letting things like soulmates and affinity cloud his judgment. He was a grown man, not a young boy, he didn’t need those silly delusions and ideas growing in his head and making him think he had a chance with you.

“Tora-o!” Luffy called. “Come here!!”

“No,” Law grumbled.

“Law,” you asked right after. “Do you mind helping me with this?”

“...yes,” he replied, stoically walking up to you to see what your problem was. Luffy gawked and pouted from the side, while a few of the others chuckled at Law.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece oneshots #x reader #reader insert #benn beckman x reader #benn beckman #shanks x reader #shanks #law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk #mihawk x reader #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #crocodile #rosinante corazon #corazon x reader #rosinante x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #buggy x reader #buggy the clown #op brook x reader #soul king brook x reader #soulmate au #roronoa zoro x reader #soul king brook

[wood-white-writer]

"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [6/...]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“On sunny days I go out walking, I end up on a tree-lined street. I look up at the gaps of sunlight. I miss you more than anything."

— Mitski, "Francis Forever"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends.  The crew arrives at the Baratie, and several things go down in a matter of hours. Decisions are made, both stupid and not so stupid. Old and new faces come back into your life, and unable to deal with the events in Orange Town, you handle it in the worst best way possible: through the bottle.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, alcoholic indulgence on a catastrophic scale (drink responsibly ppl), blackouts, morally grey reader, violence, mentions of everyone (marine, fish people, pirates, etc.) having a past beef with Reader/"Cross-Hairs", Buggy POV in the end,

A/N: So, since this chapter was delayed, I think it compensates due to the fact that it is approximately 7k words long. The chapter jumps a little between the events of the Baratie, but there's a reason for that: the reason being that the Reader is shitfaced for most of the time during this chapter. Also, shout out to @ay0nha for putting up with my rambles during this period, really appreciate it XD

It hurts. Everything hurts. That’s the first thing he feels. 

His feet, his back, his torso, but especially his head. It’s like a hamster is running on a wheel inside the bones in his skull, squeaking, chirping, driving him insane from the inside. 

The wheel is pounding, and pounding until all he wants is to chuck that fucking hamster into–

“Hey, he’s waking up!”

Shanks? Why is he in his head? Fuck, he takes it back. The hamster can stay, rent-free, for as long as it fucking wants to, as long as it isn’t fucking Shanks—

“Buggy?”

On second thoughts, that voice doesn’t strike any sense of irritation with him. In fact, he finds it comforting, like the morning sun shining atop the ship deck. He doesn’t mind listening to that.

“Buggy?”

His eyes open, and he thinks he's seeing the sun for the first time. The sun and the moon, in fact, at the same time. Golden, blinding, warm, and cold, but he wants to watch them until his vision turns white and all sense of sight abandons him. 

It’ll suck to be blind, but damn, what a hell of a way to go.

The more he stares, however, the more everything else falls back into place. He realizes it’s not suns he’s staring at, but two sharp eyes and a concerned face that makes him feel just as warm.

He’s in a bed, he finally discovers. There’s a pillow under his head, a fresh sheet up until his midsection which strangely smells of vinegar, inside a room he just now remembers is the Oro Jackson’s de-facto ‘infirmary’ which really is just an old storage space that was refurnished when they first got the ship.

There’s something wrapped around his head, tight but not too tight that it’s squeezing. It’s been done by precise and sturdy hands; a professional, someone who knows what they’re doing.

He blinks once, then twice, and everything around him finally settles. Including everyone perched around the bed.

“Ah, Buggy, my lad!” It’s hard not to recognize the booming voice of his captain, who proceeds to lean over him with his hands pressed around his biceps until the massive mustache trickles his chin. “Thought you were a goner for a moment!”

He kind of wishes he was one because the strength of Gol D. Roger is not to be underestimated. His ribs squeeze and it's hard to breathe, but out of respect for his captain, all that leaves his throat is a guttural groan that he hopes conveys the message clearly enough.

Gol D. promptly removes himself from his poor apprentice with his hands raised, and when he steps back, Shanks takes his place next to the bed. “Gods, Buggy! What were you thinking? You could’ve been killed! Rayleigh said you were lucky it was just a concussion!”

That’s when it dawns on him. Riiight, there was a scuttle. Some asshole pirates trying to ambush them, they picked the wrong fucking targets. Some … guy was flying over him? Did that happen, or was it just a fever dream?

He remembers kicking someone in the balls, and then … and then …

Lightning. Making its way for him as the darkness embraced his vision. A line of gold, straight as a sword, narrowing in on him.

Did it catch him before the darkness did? 

He hopes so.

“Lay off me, will ‘ya!” he shouts at his friend, trying to get up. However, the fucking hamster wheel in his head keeps spinning until he settles back down against the pillow. “I was doing good!”

“Yeah, until you weren’t!” Shanks disputes and grabs his fellow apprentice by the collar of his sleeve. “I told you to fucking move, but it’s like you spaced out! She had to carry you all the way back here with your head all bleeding!”

Carry him?

He glances at you, finally. You’re sitting there, hunched slightly over the bed with those eyes looking at him, and he’s thinking you fucking carried him? It’s not that he’s ashamed, not at all, but if anything, he was always hoping the roles were switched. 

He’d be the one carrying you. With your strength, he imagined it would be quite the weight to uphold, but he would do it. For you, he would move the seas if he could, Devil Fruit or not.

“Buggy, are you alright?” 

You’re the one talking this time. Not the captain, nor Shanks, just you. The lighting is here, and he feels his skin prick. It’s electric. Cold. Warm. All and nothing combined. He could listen to it – feel it – for hours, days, maybe even years without ever growing weary of it.

He puts on his best brave face and scoffs, forcing his arms to cross themselves despite the surge of aches that rush through his body doing so. “Of course I’m alright! I’m Buggy! I bounce back, always!”

“Still,” your hands fall on top of his, and he feels his body freeze. “I was worried.”

“’Worried’?” Shanks cackles and gestures to you with his thumb over his shoulder. “You should’ve seen the damage she left behind. The entire place was smithereens, I tell you, Buggy! She knocked over those assholes like frickin’ chessboard pieces!”

“What did I always tell you?” Gol D. slams a hand on top of your shoulder, knocking you slightly forward. “She’s got eyes sharp enough to cut through steel, and pirates too, apparently.”

You laugh awkwardly. “I didn’t cut through them, really. I just … knocked them a little over.”

Shanks cackles. “Don’t be humble. You should��ve seen the guy who knocked you out. I swear, none of his bones were where they were supposed to be. He won’t be walking, or doing much of anything, ever again.”

Buggy can imagine it, but also not. He looks at you now, and he sees his concerned friend with those kind eyes that contain both the sun and the moon. He’s always known you’re strong – the strongest person he knows of save for his captain, but not unkind. Not cruel. Not sadistic.

Yet, if what Shanks just said carries any weight, it confirms what he’s always known. 

You’re a beast, and beasts only follow their prime instincts. They don’t allow others to harm what or who they consider theirs.

And it means that you consider him yours. 

Maybe in a different way than he’d prefer, maybe in a way that’s different from the kind he harbors towards you, but it still confirms he’s yours. 

He will never want to find himself on the opposite side of that. Of you. Never you.

When he looks at you again, looks down at where your hand is pressed on top of his, he takes it in his own. 

“I’m fine,” he finally says, his lip tugging in what is supposed to be a smile. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, though.”

You chuckle softly, and he smiles. Fuck, how can he not? He remembers it all so clearly. The way your dimples are shaped, the length of your hair, the soft tint of your lips.

“You? Never.” You finally say. “Never you”

---

You reflect on how it's weird that some things change whereas others don't. 

Flowers prosper and bloom and die. The sun ascends, stays up for a few hours, then descends back into the horizon. 

Friendships grow strong, stay strong, then they aren't.

Some things change, some don't. 

Baratie being among the latter.

It's bright enough inside to momentarily blind you, just like it was a little over ten years ago. Save for new faces with the employees and some design choices, the overall place has stayed the same. 

There are people there of prestigious backgrounds - both pirate and not - and you think of how receptive the restaurant must've been to make both parts come together without any regular scuttles. 

A neutral ground for all to come and enjoy the feast. Well, that is the principle, but not everyone abides by it.

It’s been a while since you last visited the establishment, and last time, you were banned for life. 

Frankly, you don’t recall much of the events; too drunk on rum at the time.

What you do remember is that it involved a few broken bottles of Baratie’s finest wine, some mashed-up furniture, and cutlery, a rival captain who wouldn’t take a “fucking get lost” for a “no”, and it ended with you standing surrounded by a bunch of broken bodies of your own making.

Needless to say, Zeff was pissed. 

More than pissed, actually. He was fuming.

He probably still is.He has a thing for grudges if he’s still alive.

Maybe … Just maybe the old man’s chewed off something more than his leg and kicked the bucket? That’d be a sight to see considering he only has one remaining foot.

"My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?"

The waiter - Sanji - is fine, not going to lie. A good fighter, too, if his little display seconds ago is a testament to that. A bit too young for your preference, with a nose too small, and hair too bright and blonde. Not quite blue colorful enough.

All in all, not a bad look at all. Just for the aesthetics, though. A solid 7/10, you conclude.

"One of everything, please!" Luffy requests enthusiastically.

For whatever reason, Sanji does not seem to share your general affinity for the restaurant. That’s odd. Most people who work here tend to boast about their occupation in the famed restaurant.

Though, if you have to make a guess, Zeff is likely a contributing factor behind that disdain. He’s tough on people, even tougher if he likes someone.

As discontented as Sanji seems, however, it does not keep him from trying to withhold his flirtatious demeanor with Nami. A Casanova, it looks like. Funny.

"Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?" Zoro asks, fed up with the one-sided dalliance going on between your shipmate and the waiter.

"Two beers!” Usopp promptly adds. “though, I usually have three."

"And one milk!" Luffy chimes in.

"Three beers and a milk," Sanji notes. His eyes land on you, and that signature smile falls to his lips. "And for the ladies?"

You’re already here, you think to yourself. Why not make the most of it? For nostalgia’s sake.

"A bottle of Baratie's Finest," you request, your chin resting in your palm. "Not the kind you keep for customers, though. Pick one from Zeff's private stash, if you can afford to smuggle it past his bushy nose?"

"A classy beverage for a classy lady, I see." A mischievous glimmer shines in his eyes and smile. "Although that stash is off-limits, what kind of a man would I be if I refused a lady her desired beverage?”

You tilt your head a fraction to the side. "I'm sure he won't mind. At his age, he needs to watch his liver."

"That is true,"

Quite frankly, everything else evades your attention the second the waiter arrives with your order. Sanji brings you your meals, and your pricey bottle of Baratie's Finest, and it’s the Red Apple edition.

Perfect.

You eat, and eat, and drink, and then drink some more, not even stopping to concern yourself with the price tag. 

The food at the Baratie's has not been in decline when it comes to quality above all else. It's delicious, and not a lot of places have earned that kind of claim in your life.

The food is good, but the drinks are ethereal. 

One glass turns into two, and two promptly becomes three. So forth, and so forth. Anything to dull the tightness lodged in your chest. 

A tightness that has not left you alone in the past couple of weeks.

You've developed a pretty good tolerance over the years, and after several more units, you begin to feel the tickle on the edge of your hands. Baratie’s Finest indeed.

After five, the feeling settles on the tip of your spine.

After seven, you start to wonder what went wrong. It's a dangerous area to indulge in, especially if liquor is involved, but you don’t stop.

What went wrong?

What did you do wrong?

In another life, you would've traveled the world with them, doing nothing but drinking, fighting, exploring together.

Instead, you’re here, drinking with a crew yet still feeling like the loneliest asshole in the world. It’s not your crew.

You lose a smidgen of focus, and in the grand specter of things, focus is something you could do well with less off. 

You can afford to think less, feel less, and know less. Life has been full of ups and downs, and quite frankly, you've grown weary of it all.

Fuck, maybe Luffy’s onto something? Maybe you are sad?

… Nah.

Once Zoro orders another beer, you go as far as to share your bottle with him. His face scrunches at the taste and he coughs several times, but he admits that it’s good.

As you sit there on the edge of the couch, sipping your beverage and tasting your food, Sanji arrives to collect the bill. You know Luffy doesn’t have a berry to his name yet, and so you wonder how long it'll take before Zeff notices.

More specifically, how long it’ll take him before he realizes he's missing something from his private collection?

“Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?!”

Speak of the Chief… and he shall appear.

This time, you do not interfere when Luffy attempts to bargain for his lack of cash. You simply sit back and observe. 

As much as Luffy tries, he does not have the words or mind suited for this kind of business yet. It’s Capitalism at its finest. 

“You eat, you pay!”

Thoughts and dreams can only get you so far in life, but at the Baratie, it’s coin.

When Zeff grabs Luffy by the front of his shirt, the chief's eyes turn to you, and holy hell, is he furious. 

“And what in the blazing hell are you doing here?!"

“Zeff,” You greet him and raise your beverage his way, a tilted smirk on your face. "It’s been too long."

"Not long enough! I thought I told you to get fucking lost last time? The damages you did cost a fortune!"

“In my defense, it was the other guys that started it.”

He gives you such a dirty look that his jaws clench. “Don’t give a shit. Why are you here?”

You twirl the bottle around in your hand. "Just enjoying the ambiance, as always. I was in the area, and so how could I pass up the chance to try your scrumptious meals again? Or drinks, for that matter?" 

On cue, you raise your - or rather his - bottle closer up to him. 

It’s stupid, the rational part of your brain argues. One does not fuck around with the Chief of the Baratie, but among the few joys you have left in life, this remains one of them.

His eyes narrow in on the bottle and there he is.In the blink of an eye, he snaps it out of your hand with such fast precision that you're almost caught off-guard. 

Zeff narrows in on the mostly empty flask like it's personally insulted him and his entire lineage. “Where did you get this?"

"It was on the menu."

"It sure as shit was not! How could you—" He freezes like a thought suddenly dawned on him, and if a man can become purple from anything other than oxygen deprivation, Zeff's current mood is the closest thing to it. "Sanji. Why that snot-nosed, little—! ... When I get my damn hands on him."

It seems that whatever vendetta Zeff has towards his employee, it outweighs the one he has for you tenfold, which says something. Without another word, he yanks Luffy by the scruff and all but drags him with him to the kitchen. 

Ordinarily, you would’ve intervened on behalf of your captain, but with Zeff now preoccupied, it’s your chance to rob the bar of a few more beverages.

And in your dictionary, “a few” is the equivalent of “a shitton”.

"Wow," Usopp murmurs with a low whistle. "That guy really hates your guts."

"What are you talking about? I’m his favorite customer." You raise what remains in your glass to them. “Anyone want another one?”

"I do," Nami relents.

Zoro laughs, probably for the first time since you’ve met him. "Now you're talking."

Maybe, just maybe, you’re beginning to like these people. 

With a couple more drinks, maybe you’ll be able to tell.

———

“You know, I kind— I kinda assumed you were an asshole when we first met?” 

Usopp’s struggling to stand on his feet, legs bent slightly forward as he makes a half-assed attempt at ordering another drink. You can’t tell if the bartender is electively ignoring him or not, and truth be told, you don't blame the guy if the former applies.

Between the two of you, you’re more adept when it comes to dealing with liquor. Sure, your lips are a little looser now and the bright lights are starting to hurt your eyes, but all in all, you’re not even half as drunk as you want to be. 

Seriously, fuck me sometimes. You just had to go all out when you were younger. Days and nights spent pouring bottle after bottle left your liver hardened rather than weakened.

Now, because of the high tolerance you stupidly developed, it's come here to bite you in the ass and keep you from getting wrecked. 

“Oh?” Your sarcasm couldn't be any more discernible than it is now as you eye your crew mate. “What made you reach that conclusion?”

Usopp twirls around, horribly off-balanced, and slaps a hand over your shoulder. 

A little too personal for your liking, but you let it slide for now.

“I mean, for starters, you—,” he hiccups. “You always have that look about you. Like someone just pissed in your ale.”

You give him an unimpressed but vaguely piqued once-over. “Descriptive. Go on,”

“And soso— And so I and the guys are wondering if you’re like that because some clown broke your heart or—,” he hiccups again. “Or some— something? Did he piss in your ale?”

You shrug his hand off at once. You don’t want to think about him, now least of all. "No.”

Not even a second later, his arm his back over your shoulder and he leans closer. It's probably meant as a comforting gesture, but given how absolutely wasted he looks, you perceive it with a grain of salt. 

"Y-You can tell the great Capt— I mean, the Great Usopp, alright? We've all been there before, I—I'm ssssure. I mean, Zoro doesn't strike me as much of a ladies' man, but he's probably got stories, too."

The bartender finally stops by and leaves a beer bottle in front of you on the table, completely ignoring your companion, and disappears to make his next rounds.

You take the flask and flick the cork off with your thumb. "Well, if you really want to help, —" 

You turn around so that your back hits the bar counter, twirl Ussop around with the guidance of your hand and shove him lightly towards where Nami and Zoro are sitting. "— Talk to the others first about their heartbreaks."

If he wants to object, he's too drunk to for it. Instead, he recollects his limited stance and all but wobbles over to the corner where your other companions are seated.

He’s their problem now, but it’ll be an interesting display.

You recline against the bar counter to chug your beverage in peace when a voice suddenly speaks up from next to you. 

“I thought you were retired.”

With how loud the music is, it might have slipped your notice completely. Then again, the owner of said voice has always had that thing about him. 

He could whisper, and the entire room would’ve heard.

You glance up at your side, and you’re halfway tempted to smile when you see who it is. 

“It’s been a while, Hawk-Eyes.”

Everything from the feather on his hat to the cross around his neck and the pointy way his beard is trimmed has stayed the same. Not a scar, a bruise, or blemish to spot on him.

In ten years, he looks to have aged only one. Some people are fortunate in terms of youth, and you would definitely consider Dracule Mihawk one of them.

“Cross-Hairs.” He inclines his head to you, a silent courtesy reserved only for those whose company he tolerates. “I believed you abandoned your life behind the mast years ago.”

You take another generous gulp from your bottle before you respond. "So did I, but life finds a way, doesn't it?"

"Indeed." He peeks over his shoulder to where your companions are seated, his countenance less than impressed. Then again, that's just his face by default, so hard to tell with him. "And last we met, you were a Captain."

"Last time we met, you almost cut my right arm off." For emphasis, you pull back your sleeve to show off the straight scar that separates your upper arm from the rest. It's faded, old, and never noticeable unless you decide to wear anything short-sleeved, but it's there all the same.

He doesn't apologize. Of course, he wouldn't. Instead, he raises his sparse glass of wine to you. "Nothing personal."

You raise your bottle to him in turn. "Of course not,"

Clink!

You drink your respective beverages in companionable silence. However, even with your halfway inebriated state of mind, you can't help but think of the reasons for his presence. 

You have your suspicions, and you're not shy about voicing them.

"This isn't your usual scenery." You say. “What makes one of the great Warlords of the Sea seek out a place such as this? Business or pleasure?"

"Business," he answers curtly, as though he'd prefer to do anything but. "I'm looking for a captain."

“It’s not Shanks, I take it?”

“No, it’s not. It’s a captain by the name of Luffy.”

It doesn't surprise you. It should, but it doesn’t.

The lengths the vice-admiral is willing to go to retrieve his grandson, which apparently includes hiring a Warlord to do so, doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. Unbreakable willpower is a family trait, after all, if you've learned anything from Luffy. 

It wouldn’t suffice with a gun; he had to send the entire fucking arsenal.

Still, at least it’s Mihawk of all people. It shouldn’t be a source of relief, but had it been anyone else, be it Kuro or Axe-hand or Bu-... 

Your fingers subconsciously dig into the fragile, empty bottle you’re holding.

The point is, had it been anyone else, you would've intervened. You have intervened, several times by now, but not tonight. 

Tonight, you're here to drink and forget, then drink some more. You don’t have the sobriety to worry about much of anything anymore.

"Garp must truly be at his wit's end if he employs you for his endeavors." Once you retrieve the bottle at your disposal, you pluck off the cap and swirl it lazily in your hand. The lights from the bar dance around the transparently brown rim, like a shooting star with no exit and no entrance to the rest of the universe. Forever stuck. "Seems excessive to send you of all people after something so seemingly simple."

"From what I've heard, this particular quarry is something of a wildcard."

"If you’re here, I’m sure of it."

Mihawk tilts his chin up, eyeing you curiously in your peripheral vision. "Are you saying that you're acquainted with this Luffy?"

"I'm saying no such thing. It's just mere speculations on my part." Another fistful of alcohol travels down your esophagus. "You're only employed when it's truly serious, and the vice-admiral is known for only getting involved in those kinds of matters. It adds up, is all I’m saying."

“I hardly consider it dire. It's more a means of killing some time on my part." He does not take his eyes off of you, and even in your current state, you can tell that something is brewing beneath those sharp eyes. "However, if said captain has you in his arsenal, then I feel like some investigation is warranted. After all, the Captain of the Cross-Haired pirates is not particularly known for her tendency to submit to others."

You quirk an eyebrow at him and circle your finger around the bottle rim, pondering on the subject yet not biting at the metaphorical carrot he dangles in front of you. "Technically, it’s just like you said: I'm retired, and the Cross-Haired pirates are no more. I’d think most people are aware of that.”

"The Marines believe otherwise,” he counters calmly. “The Cross-haired pirates may be disbanded, but their captain’s bounty remains on the posters. The vice-admiral was quite adamant that, while he wants the boy alive, he’d prefer it if you weren’t."

“I see.” The vice-admiral should learn to take a fucking number. “Tell me, have you elected a means of execution, or is it the dealer's choice?"

"I recall he mentioned something along the lines of wanting your head on a spike."

"Crude."

"I agree."

"Then," you raise your glass. "Am I to have my last drink here tonight?"

He shakes his head. "No, I'm here for the boy and nothing else."

You'd expect him to be forward with his line of questions; demand you just give Luffy up and be done with it, not side-stepping the subject like he's doing now. 

If he suspects something, he'll sniff it out like a bloodhound until he gets what he's searching for, regardless of how many cards or people fall around him. You’ve not exactly been subtle about your affiliations with his quarry, something you’ll berate yourself for come morning, but it all depends on how this plays out now.

"I won’t give you the answer you seek. You’ll have to do that on your own.”

You're not friends, but you're not necessarily foes either. 

For as long as you’ve known the swordsman, Mihawk's only ever had a beef with Shanks for reasons undisclosed even to you. Even after you parted ways with your red-haired crew mate, Mihawk never seemed to have anything personal against you despite the rather brutal nature of your previous encounter. 

If anything, there's a certain level of respect veiled between you, one former pirate to another semi-former one, and it’s something you hope he'll honor just this once.

To your relief, he decides to not push the matter, but the interest lingers in his eyes. 

It's not easy to notice, but you make it a habit to take note of limited details. "The boy must be something special to have earned your loyalty like this, Cross-Hairs." 

"I suppose you'll have to find out for yourself." 

"Perhaps so," he concedes.

You chug the rest of your drink in one go, put the empty bottle on the tabletop in the space between you, and push yourself off the counter. "For what it's worth, I wish you good fortune with your endeavor. However, I’ll warn you; if anything happens to the kid, I'll get involved.”

“Duly noted.” Once again, he dips his head to you. "And Cross-Hairs,"

"Hmmm?"

You glance at him from over your shoulder, but his gaze is fixated on something else this time. Something on the other side of the bar, to the borders of the waters. If he sees anything, you can't tell what it is, and he doesn’t share. 

Not explicitly.

"There is unrest brewing in the seas," he finally reveals, casually as if he's discussing the current state of the weather. "I'd suggest you keep your feet dry for now, at your convenience."

You don't know what he speaks of, but whatever it is, you'll follow. He is not a man who prides himself on his capacity to proclaim falsehood. If he tells you that the sun is green, you'll believe it, and you make it a habit not to believe in a lot of people.

That applies to this warning too.

"I'll see you around, Hawk-Eyes."

You need another drink.

———

You slip in and out of consciousness a couple of times throughout the night, never coming to the same places twice, with a belly full of rum, beer, and whatever else with enough alcoholic percentage to knock out a horse. 

At one point, you're in the restaurant munching on some bread rolls.

At another, you're puking your guts out in the bathroom stalls. 

At the third, you're chugging even more liquor straight out of the bottle while a bunch of people cheer you on.

The circle goes on and on and on until it spins out of control like a zoetrope. Faces flash in front of you, one after the other, never the same two times in a row. 

It's alright, you tell yourself, as long as you forget.

You forget about blue eyes, blue hair, and red noses. 

You forget about Gol D. Roger and the time you spent on his crew.

You forget it all, if only for a few hours.

Next time you come to, you're still miraculously standing on your feet. You’re currently in the kitchen on the Merry, and currently listening to Nami telling a ridiculous story about how Zoro challenged Dracule Mihawk to a duel.

What a funny story.

In fact, it’s so funny and so outlandish that you can't help but snort. Since when has Nami been the kind of person to tell jokes?

Maybe Usopp's tendencies have rubbed off on the standoffish young woman, or maybe she's smoked something along with her drinks? 

Fuck, you have to ask her where she got the stuff.

It takes a few moments of awkward silence until you realize that no one is joking, Nami least of all. The room is still, and as if all alcoholic content has left your blood, it dawns on you last of all.

Oh hell no.

You slowly turn to Zoro with a deadpan look in your eyes, and despite the urgency, you ask him as calmly as you can, "You challenged Dracule Mihawk to a duel?"

He bobs his head and continues polishing his swords. "Which he accepted,"

You blink, and blink, hoping that this is just a fragment your beer-and-bottle-drenched brain has conjured to fuck with you, but Zoro remains where he is and so is everyone and everything else.

Fuuuuuuuck…

You thought he was one of the smart ones, too. His sense of navigation doesn't work for shit and if anyone can get lost on their way to the lavatory, it's him. Still, you withheld some semblance of hope that he would exhibit the same kind of recklessness as his captain.

Turns out, it has all been for naught.

You rub your temples hard enough to sting. With a nasty headache developing, you decide to pop the question. "Cremation or burial at sea?"

"... What?"

"Pick one or the other, I'll see to it that arrangements can be made."

"I'm not going to die.”

"You are a fly to him." Nami grimaces. "Something to be swatted and forgotten,"

"Not if I win." Zoro is steadfast and determined, like every new pirate on their first voyage.

It’s a look you remember well. In a way, the young swordsman kind of reminds you of Mihawk himself, and if there's one thing you can link to both, it's that annoying stubbornness that never yields. Even when the odds are against them.

"You're not going to win," Nami tries.

Zoro remains infuriatingly unconvinced. "You don't know that."

"You won't." This situation, to your chagrin, sobers you up enough that you can't blame the liquor on your next actions or words. 

You take a step towards him, and with an iron fist, grab him by the front of his shirt and force him to face you. He's unamused. “I think I liked you better when you were drunk,” he murmurs.

"I want you to get this, really get this.” You snarl. “Once you go against Mihawk, and there's no coming back for most. He's not known as the World's Greatest Swordsman for no reason, and as good as you are, take it from me. He'll end you."

He inclines his head to the side with deep-rooted skepticism. "Sounds like you really know the guy,"

"It doesn't matter whether I know him or not." 

"Everywhere we go, we make enemies, and for some reason, they've already got a grudge against you, Captain Cross-Hairs." 

With one hand clenched against your offending wrist, he starts to list off his other hand. "Since you know just about every asshole we come across, you might as well tell me about Mihawk's preferred method of execution. Will he chop me in half, or is he excessive like the damn clown and goes all the way with splitting someone into pieces?"

You feel your nails begin to pierce through the fabric of his shirt, inches away from leaving open gaps. You're not their guardian or their mentor. You're not the one supposed to keep the crew at ease or lead them towards certain victories. 

That's the captain's role, and you're not it. Not on this ship, with this crew.

Your only purpose here is to keep them from killing themselves on their first voyage, but if they're so determined to do it themselves despite the warnings you provide, then it's not on you.

Pulling him a few inches closer to you, you look him straight in the eyes, and that's when you see it. The aforementioned stubbornness that follows each and every young pirate you've come across in your life. The notion that they're invulnerable; unkillable. 

Nothing can hope to end them.

You remember what it was like, that feeling, and it almost breaks you to see it in front of you like this. 

You know aggression won’t do it for him, so you try an approach you haven’t tried in years. Bargaining. 

“What will it take for you to pull back from this?”

“He’s coming for Luffy. I’m his first mate, it’s my duty to protect the captain.”

To protect the Captain…

That's how you know that there's no convincing the young swordsman to stand down, not this time. 

He's persistent, exceedingly so, and if there's one thing you've learned during this voyage with these people it's that hell hath no fury like a straw hat pirate determined.

This is not on you, yet it doesn't make it any easier to let go of him. But you do.

Taking a deep breath, you uncurl your fingers and let him step back. 

"Fine."

You need another drink.

Glancing over your shoulder, you meet Luffy’s concerned gaze. “This is your call, captain.”

You don’t need to be here for this. You’ve done your part, and now it’s his turn to do his.

You give Zoro a pat on his back, just one. It's not meant for comfort, it's not an act of sympathy either. 

It's just a pat, like the kind you give your friend when they're about to gamble away all their savings over a game of cards. It’s the “fuck around and find out, but do it yourself”-kind of gesture.

Heaving a sigh, you sidestep him and let your fingers fall off his shoulders. "It's been fun, Zoro." 

And the worst part about this all is that you mean it, truly. It has been fun to sail with them, share a few beers, and joke at the expense of others. Your time on this ship has been fun. 

Like old times.

You won't go as far as to call Zoro a friend, you never do, but it's close enough that you'll probably miss him in the long run.

Zoro looks at you, his countenance indecipherable. "Say that to me again when I win this fight,"

"I can't." Because you won't.

---

The water forces its way into his lungs at such speed that it feels like he's swallowed buckets by the time they finally come up for air. He harks and coughs and tries to get as much of it out, but he doesn’t feel any lighter. 

Get it? Lighter, because he’s just a head now and— alright, forget it.

For once, he's happy his head is disjointed from the rest of his body because if it wasn't, he'd probably sink to the bottom of the ocean from the fluid in his belly alone.

The taste of salt and sand stays like a sour afterthought on his tongue, and as much as he tries to spit it out, he can't be rid of all the grains. "Fuck! Give me a warning next time, will ya?! Kinda vulnerable to seawater and all that!"

Whatever fish-guy has him strapped to their back this time does not dignify his complaints with a verbal response. Instead, all he hears is a couple of snickers, like their humor is fuelled at his expense. 

Assholes, the lot of them. 

It takes some time for the tangy scent to abandon his nostrils, but once it does, it's immediately replaced by the fine scent of something divine. Something delicious. 

It smells of food. Actual fucking human food. Not whatever Arlong and his litter gorge on, which he personally believes to be carcasses of dead sea animals they happen to catch on the shores of their island. 

It's honest-to-god cooked, seasoned, edible food.

Buggy can feel his mouth water, and for once, he cannot blame it on seawater.

They're finally at Baratie.

The finest restaurant in all the East Blue, renowned for its excellent taste and unrivaled quality. Only the richest of the rich get to dine here, and while he's not exactly flowing with berries at the moment, he’s famished.

“Hey, Lips!" he yells out as loud as he can through the shitty bag. "How about you order me some hot dogs once we get a seat? A clown's gotta eat!"

The only sort of response he gets is an elbow to the bag, which incidentally clashes right into his nose. "FUCK!"

"Shut up!"

There's scuttling to be heard, doors opening, and a shitton of gasps echo from all around him. They have an audience, he deduces, and not a particularly receptive one at that. 

Arlong makes a spectacle, something about "serve" and yish and yash about dinner and last meals as they get a seat.

Fuck, what he would give for a meal.

For the first time in what feels like forever, he feels solid ground settle under his neck. Though it's a pleasant reprieve from being thrown back and forth like a yarn ball caught in a cat’s game, he won’t consider it much of an upgrade. He's fucking hungry, damnit!

"Who are you, old man?" Arlong speaks, and Buggy hears uneven steps approach them.

An unfamiliar voice answers. "My name's Zeff, and I own this place."

Right, the Chief. Maybe he can ask him for some crumbs since his captors aren’t exactly on the generous side.

"Well, I'm Arlong, and I own the East Blue."

"No one owns the sea. Not even a fish man."

Ooooh, burn! Suck on that, shitface!

"Listen up!” Arlong exclaims when the chief’s negotiation tactics fail to appease him. “I'm looking for a pirate in a straw hat! Goes by the name of Luffy!"

The saw-nosed motherfucker truly has to be even more extravagant than himself, Buggy admits to himself with no short amount of begrudging compliance. Fishface even goes as far as to threaten the poor diners with having them for dinner instead, by the sounds of it. 

Buggy can appreciate the message it conveys; he’s used it himself, but he refuses to find any common ground with his captor, so he buries the sentiment ten feet down into wherever the hell his body is.

He listens as the diners lose their appetite, all the while Arlong begins to gorge on whatever he has on his plate. For a while, all he can make out is the sound of meat being torn off something and the occasional cry from one of the diners in the distance.

Even from miles and miles away, Buggy can feel his stomach twist painfully due to the lack of food in it. Oh, it’s hell on earth to smell everything you want yet being unable to even grasp it. And here his captors are, toying with him, torturing him with it.

Seriously, fuck them.

He’s about to demand to get something to chew on when Arlong’s other henchman — Kuroobi or some shit like that — beats him to it. "Hey, boss, I'm feeling for a bottle right about now."

Arlong laughs. "Don’t have to tell me. Take what you please. I don’t think that one will mind sharing one of hers.”

“And get one for me too while you’re at it,” Lips supplies.

The henchman cackles and gets up to his feet to retrieve what he’s looking for, but not before lightly kicking the bag that is Buggy’s current prison cell in the side. 

“HEY!”

“Sorry.” He apologizes unapologetically.

Buggy grinds his teeth together and tries to think of something — anything — to keep his mind off his ever-rising hunger. When he gets his body back, he'll take some bottles and shove them right up these fuckers a—

CRASH!

Buggy hears the sound of something breaking from the opposite side of where the fish man just headed. Countless gasps ring through the restaurant’s interior, bouncing on the walls, and he hears the henchman’s painful wails from a distance away.

He’d laugh - he does laugh, because it seems like someone didn’t want to share their precious drinks and decided that full-on attacking one of the fish people was the appropriate kind of response.

It’s impressive, he thinks. Very much so. Oh, he’d pay to see that again, and he’ll have to give that person a fucking kiss, just for making his day a little bit better.

It’s a shame he can’t see the—

"Fucking get lost."

Buggy feels his head freeze in the bag.

He recognizes that voice. The morning sun shone atop the ship deck. Warm. Cold. All of them at once. 

He's finally found you.

---

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat , @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #one piece live action #one piece x reader #buggy x you #one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x female reader #DMTMYHB #didn’t mean to make your heart blue

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 16

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 14.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* A bit of dirty flirting, some talk about labor pain/injuries and childbirth, lots of fluff. There's a lot going on in this chapter but not much in the way of warnings. Summary: Returning to Newport from New York, Max cooks up a surprise for you before you prepare to return to the future. Not everything will go according to plan, though. Notes: We are almost at the end, folx! I have loved every second of this crazy journey, and this little family will be particularly hard to say goodbye to. As always, please excuse any errors I missed do to sleepiness. This week enjoy a lovely Eddie gif 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15

In the days following the Astor’s Beechwood ball, you find yourself once again in your old familiar haunts. While Annie flits about in the first throes of wedding planning — the engagement announcement was overwhelming and quite the spectacle — Emmanuel seems to be even more doting and ever present. Max and Yayo have had their heads bent over mysterious vampiric business since your return — you swear you heard them talk about building something but they’re so quiet you can’t be sure — and with no nearby friends to call on you or duties to oversee, you’re just enjoying being settled. The morning room, comforting and familiar, with your tea tray and book are a lovely and sunny place to be while the whole rest of the household buzzes by.

“There’s my darling.” Max sails into the room with a broad, proud smile on his face.

“You look as if you’re up to something,” you assess, although you immediately shift over on the window seat to make room for him.

“I’m always up to something.” He admits with zero shame. His smile turns into a grin and he leans in to press his lips to yours eagerly. “How are you feeling? Are you up for a little trip?”

“How little is little?” Whatever it is, you’re going to say yes. But you still want to know what he has up his sleeve.

“Probably about thirty minutes?” Max asks, rolling his eyes at how slow the horses will take him and you where he wants to go.

You hum, pretending to consider it, but give yourself away with a grin when you lean forward to kiss his nose. “Do I need to change? There are so many damn rules for what I’m supposed to wear and keeping track is a menace. Thank the gods for Renee.”

“No.” Max shakes his head. The higher hem of your day dress would be perfect. “Although I would change into your boots.” He cautions.

“Hmmm.” Squinting at him in suspicion, you steal one more kiss before shifting forward on the bench. “Alright, I’ll go change my shoes and get a hat and gloves.”

“Perfect.” He smirks. “I’ll have the carriage brought around.” He promises and quickly bounces out of the room happily.

By the time you come down again everything is ready to whisk you away, and even Yayo waves from the library as you pass through the great hall. “I’m very suspicious and very curious,” you tell Max once you’re bundled up beside him in the carriage and the horses start to move.

Max chuckles and flicks the reins. In true nineteenth century fashion, he has learned to drive a horse and buggy as well as ride. The horses that your grandfather have being bred by vampires so they don’t shy away from the predators.

“Just us? No staff?” You had expected one of the covered carriages, not the stylish little open-air phaeton that is essentially a 19th century sports car.

“Just us.” He throws you a grin and leers. “Why, are you afraid to be alone with me?”

“No.” Always honest with him, you cuddle up to his side and throw him a dirty smirk. “But I might fuck you in the back of the phaeton if it’s not too cold wherever we’re going.”

He chuckles. “Maybe that was my plan all along?” He teases and glances back at the road as you make your way back down the row of styles bungalows and mansions.

“Good plan.” You snort, laughing along with him. “Solid. I like it.”

“I thought so.” He beams cockily and slips the lap blanket more securely over your legs.

“Did you have a good day so far?” He’s spent so much time with Yayo since you got back from New York that you’ve basically only since him at meals and in your room.

“Very good.” Max smiles an elusive smile, one that promises that he has a secret. “So good that I want to celebrate with you.”

“Well I know you didn’t find us a way home, since that’s my job.” In fact, you have another magic lesson with your abuela tomorrow after breakfast. It’s how you’ve been passing your mornings since getting back from New York.

“Maybe I did….in a way.” He chuckles and once the homes have given way to trees, he turns down a wagon path.

“You’re being extremely Yayo-like.” The similarities in your grandfather’s flare for the dramatic and your soulmate’s is just funny at this point, and definitely a point for teasing him with. Having Max for Yayo’s protege makes perfect sense.

“I will take that as the compliment it’s meant to be.” He pretends to huff, but the grin on his face gives him away.

Driving a little bit further down the road to wherever, you sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before you hum softly and look back at him. “I was going to save it for tonight,” you tell him with a satisfied little smile. “But I finally got fire lighting down pat with abuela this morning. I can light anything from a candle wick to a fireplace consistently.”

“That’s great!” Max smiles at you, proud of your accomplishment. He knows how hard you’ve been working to control your magic.

“It’s not exactly groundbreaking, but I’m working on it.” You’ve found that your problem isn’t power. You have an enormous amount of power at your literal fingertips now that your magic has been released. Consistency is your issue. Getting reliable and consistent results is the only way to get you back to the future safely.

“Sweetheart, if anyone can do it, it will be you. You have the most determination of anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“You see the best in me.” It’s humbling, the faith he has, but also massively encouraging. Half the time you feel like teasing him about finding a cheerleading uniform but you know it would turn dirty. “And I love you, too.”

“I see the you that you are. Max insists, transferring the reins to one hand so he can pick yours up to kiss the back of it. “Just like how you see me.”

“I like how mushy you are in the 1880s,” you tease, knowing he would be mushy and romantic no matter what era you’re in together.

Max scoffs and rolls his eyes, happy that he’s not fed recently so he can’t blush. “Hush.”

“Nope.” The grin on your face says everything, and you throw him one of the winks he loves to aim at you before turning back to watch the world roll by around you.

It doesn’t take too long to come to a clearing and Max pulls the phaeton to a stop. The coast is right beyond the clearing with its own rocky cliff. “Here it is.”

“Here what is?” Glancing up at him, you bite your lip but raise one amused eyebrow. “Did you seriously bring me out here for nature sex? Because I’m okay with that but I think it’s funny that I guessed.”

Max snorts but shakes his head. “No.” He smirks at you. “But you might want to fuck me after you find out what this place is.”

“So tell me what it is, then.” Something itches at you to get out and explore, but you’re not really sure what there even is to explore. A half an hour in the phaeton has put you outside of the immediate neighborhood of the Bellevue Avenue “cottages” and further up on Ocean Avenue at the very corner of the island. The view of the ocean is brilliant here, sun shining off the water and enough of a hill to put you on top of a breathtaking little cliff-face.

“This….” Max pauses for dramatic effect. “Is the land where that gorgeous little gothic mansion sits back in our time.” He reminds you of the present day home. It was never opened to visitors and privately owned although no one ever knew quite who owns it. “Our future or past, home.”

“Wait…” Your attention snaps back to him and your eyes widen in recognition. “Seacliff? The one that looks like a little gothic revival castle?” You had affectionately called it Seacliff Dollhouse when you first saw it, and Allison had giggled, telling Max and Eddie about it when you came home that night. “That’s…it’s our house?”

“That’s our house, sweetheart.” Max nods. “Your grandfather and I decided that if you can harness this time travel spell, then it would be fitting that we have a place to land when we return.” He explains. “The architect finished the plans today.”

"That's what you've been up to?" Tears well up behind your eyes almost instantly, blinking at him in utter disbelief. "Max, I—" You swallow a hiccup, finding yourself completely speechless and then instantly rambling through sniffles a moment later. "Baby, that's amazing! I swear I'm going to work so, so hard to master it and you're going to be so damn proud and have no one to brag to about it."

Max reaches out and cups your cheek. “I’ll brag to myself.” He promises. “When your grandfather showed me the land and he already has it, I just knew that we had built that house.”

"You're absolutely wonderful." Pressing in to kiss him, the urge to explore makes complete sense to you — it feels like the land is calling to you on a basic and magical level. "No wonder they worked so hard to convince my parents to train me as a witch when I was little." You hum, tucking into his side to look around you. "Yayo knew so much about us already. But there are some things that even he can't know about the future."

“Your grandfather knew, but he regrets pushing so hard.” He murmurs quietly. Your grandfather in this time has been more open after learning about the connection.

“At least things can get better.” You squeeze his arm gently. “And my offer to help you reconnect with your family still stands, love. Whether it’s future or past, that’s up to you.”

Max sighs softly and shakes his head. “No.” He murmurs quietly. “I don’t think they would want that. I’ve ignored people my entire life, I won’t ignore their wishes.”

"You can always change your mind." A kiss on his cheek is the end of the conversation for now, and you nod to the small, cliffside acreage in front of you. "So do you want to tell me about the design for the house? Since I've only ever seen the inside?"

"Gothic." Max grins and winks at you. "Gilded Gothic."

"You're going to keep this under your hat until we get back, aren't you?" It's yet more of his flair for the dramatic, and you can't help but smile.

"Claw foot tubs, a reading nook off the library that will have you cozied up every day." Max ticks off some of the highlights.

"At least one room big enough for us to dance in?" You ask, batting your eyelashes hopefully.

"The ballroom will open up onto the balcony overlooking the ocean." He smirks. "I wanted to be able to sweep you out there during a dance."

"Honey." That hopeful expression melts into awe all over again. Sometimes he really just does astound you with how sweet he is in that big, romantic heart that no longer beats. "We're going to throw the best parties," you decide, humming with excitement.

"Of course we are." He promises, looking out over the land and imagining what it will look like in the future. "We will need to make sure we live up to your grandmother's reputation."

"Abuela's reputation and Lina's expectations," you chuckle at the thought. "I have a feeling if I was a disappointing hostess she would sense it through time and show up to correct me."

Max snorts again and nods. "I know she would." He chuckles. "She would follow you around, clicking her tongue and tsking."

"And no one wants to have Mrs. Astor following them around tsking." It's a beautiful piece of land with the ocean stretching out all around you, and conjuring the image of the house in your mind lifts such a wistful sigh out of you that you feel a little sheepish. "I do like it here," you admit after a pause. "But I'll be glad to go back to our own time, too."

"I know." He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. "I even miss Eddie if you can believe it."

"I do believe that," you huff, rolling your eyes at him. "Pretend all you like, but he is your best friend."

He huffs, acting offended, but he doesn't actually refute you're comment. He can't. Not when he's spent so much time with Eddie over the past few years, he's come to like the perpetually youthful vampire. More than a little, he looks at him like the little brother he should have had. "Whatever."

"Mmhmm." You practically cackle at the way his face twists, hugging his side all over again. "That's what I thought."

"Anywaaaaaaaay." He rolls his eyes. "Do you like this place?"

"I absolutely love it." Shifting beside him, you pull off the blanket that's been covering your laps and grab his hand. "Come on. Let's walk around."

He hops down from the Phaeton and quickly lifts you out of the buggy so you can walk around. "The architect has set the stakes in the grass. We can walk out our house."

"I always wondered how big the house actually is." You've only ever driven past it, turning the corner of Ocean Ave with Max or Allison or the other girls from the coven as you wondered aloud who owned the house or who had built it way back when. Now that you know the answer, it makes the guesses that much more fun.

"Anything you don't like can be changed." He assured you hastily, wondering if you might feel left out of the decision. It's technically a gift from your grandfather, but Max had helped him plan.

"Tell me what you have planned." There's no doubt in your mind that it will be perfect, but you know that he's proud of his surprise and you want to hear it right from him, not from looking at a set of blueprints. Max's excitement always makes your heart skip a beat in the very best way. "I'm sure it's perfect. I just want to get excited with you."

"Surprise, surprise...." Max grins at you. "The kitchen is not in the basement." He whispers, feigning horror. "It's beautifully lined with windows that open to cool it down from the ocean."

"Let me guess?" Waggling your eyebrows a little as he starts to lead you around the border of the house, you shoot him a grin. "Yayo and Abuela's special enchanted glass?" It had been explained to you that the windows at Chateau-sur-Mer were treated with a coating to prevent the vampires living there from being too affected by the sun. Abuela, however, went more in depth with the explanation once you had come back in time. Apparently the coating was something she had created herself, to protect her soulmate.

"Of course." He nods, your grandfather having insisted on the glass being installed in the new home. "He said that it would last through the ages. Another positive is that little boys can't throw balls through the window."

"And if I know your sons, they will absolutely try." Any rambunctious little boys with his dimple and your hair and all of that pent-up mischievous energy are bound to get up to trouble, and it's sweet to imagine now — well before you'll actually have to deal with any of the fallout from it. After all, they'll also be more than half vampire by blood, so who knows what other chaos they'll get up to.

"Before we...go home." Max starts quietly. "I want you to talk to your abuela about what its like." He tells you. "She is the first human to give birth to a vampire's child. Her insight into this is the best you can ask for."

"I will." It's pretty much the most reasonable request in the world, if you're honest, and you wouldn't deny him something so logical. Especially when he's right. Your abuela's insight will be invaluable. "But baby...even if it doesn't ever happen for us. That's okay. There are a whole lot of ways to be a family. It doesn't have to include biological children. After all...there's never been another family like ours before in the history of the world. We can't know how likely it is. Or isn't."

"No...." That's true and it's a bittersweet fact for Max. He laces his fingers with you and pulls you to a stop in the middle of the clearing of what will become a gorgeous little mansion. "But I want you to know what I had imagined when I was human. When I though of 'forever' with my soulmate."

“Okay.” This is obviously a point of some not inconsiderable pain for him, and even though you wish you could just reach into his heart and wipe it away, it’s part of him. It’s part of who he is and you wouldn’t change a single thing about who he is. “Tell me everything.”

"I was an asshole." He can admit it, it was the truth. "I was a playboy and a little wild. Loose as Mrs. Astor would say." He chuckles. "But I believed in my soulmate. So much. I knew that when I found her, you, I was going to do everything I could to make her happy." He rolls his eyes. "I had it all planned out. I would be the hardworking provider and you would be free to do whatever you wanted. Stay home with our four beautiful kids, pursue whatever career you wanted, but I was going to give you everything you ever wanted."

It must be a particular sting then, to his masculine pride, that your incoming and your home — two homes — both come from your family and your inheritance. But it isn't as though you ever planned for that. Or waved it in his face. "You take amazing care of me, love." After all, hasn't he been the one encouraging you to embrace your freedom and to pursue the things you love? Financial freedom may have come from elsewhere, but Max has brought you emotional freedom.

"But up until just a few months ago, I was under the assumption that I could never give my soulmate a family." He reminds you, squeezing your hand tightly. "I know that it's a long shot, or might not happen, but if it can, I want it. I want to be the parent I never had. The support and love that I always wished for." He smiles softly at you. "The kind of life you had growing up."

"Alriiiight..." Your hands travel up and down his arms when you step closer to him, letting his hands slip around your waist so that you can be that much closer to him. "But four kids is gonna be a lot louder than my house growing up," you tell him, a grin sliding across your lips. "I hope Seacliff has five bedrooms in that plan of yours."

"Six." He winks at you with a sly grin. "One for company."

"Planning ahead, I see." It makes your grin split, giggles spilling over one more time. "We'll keep trying," you promise him, hands soothing over the warm fabric of the jacket he doesn't need to be wearing. "If we're lucky enough to have kids, they'll know their magic and their bloodline. If we end up adopting kids through time, we'll make sure the house is always full of life and laughter. Always."

"As long as you are happy." Max worries about that secretly. Always hoping that it will be enough. "That is all that matters."

"I am." You promise him without hesitation. "And you're so much of what's made me happy. It wouldn't be complete without you, love."

"I'm hoping that you mean that." He knows you believe that, so he shoots you a wink and guides you over to large, staked out area. "This is your library."

"I get a library?" He knows you far too well. It's obvious. And although a library is standard in Gilded age mansions, they were usually for men to use and you hadn't even considered that this new house of yours would have one.

"Where else would your reading nook go?" He asks with an indulgent grin. "With windows perfect for a little bat to fly in and out of."

"Best soulmate in the whole world," you giggle madly, burying yourself in hugging him, overwhelmed with excitement about this next step forward with him. "Does my library with its reading nook have a desk for my soulmate to do business at, or did you design yourself a study?"

"There is a decidedly masculine writing desk." He smirks and shakes his head. "No study for me to disappear into, sweetheart. That will be your spell room."

"With abuela Cookie's grimoire and a copy of Lina Astor's right next to each other." Looking up at him, you prop your chin on his chest and grin. "I've decided what deities I'm going to keep on my altar from now on."

"Which ones, sweetheart?" Max has been learning about your religion, but he doesn't have it all down yet. Plenty of years to learn though.

"I thought I would keep the statues of Hades and Persephone that abuela has up." Your hands pause their continual, soothing journey on his arms and you give his shoulders a squeeze. "Sexy and misunderstood representation of living death alongside the goddess of spring? It...kind of reminds me of us..."

He tilts his head curiously. "How so?" He asks, wanting you to explain it.

"Sexy undead guy," you explain, unable to holding in a grin as you point to him. "And girl who really like flowers. And also the sexy undead guy," you laugh, pointing to yourself in turn.

He snorts and rolls his eyes. "Of course." he chuckles. "I'm sexy and you know it."

“Yes I do.” In the chilly October air, you push up on the toes of your boots to kiss him. “I really hope you know how much you mean to me.”

"Maybe you can show me over the next few millennia?" He poses.

“Without a doubt.” You hum, beaming at him and never intending to stop for even half a second.

"Good." He leans in to kiss you again and then turns your attention back to the property. "Now let me show you the ballroom."

“I can’t believe how much you got done.” It’s only been a few days and the notion that an entire house could be designed in that time seems crazy. “Yayo has a vampire architect, doesn’t he?”

"Of course he does." Max snorts. "Apparently he's the best around and your grandfather changed him in order to make sure that the house he wanted for Cookie was completed before your mother was born."

"Of fucking course he did." You practically groan out a laugh as Max steers you toward the area that will be the back of the house. "Of course my grandfather turned the greatest American architect of the mid-1800s." There was very distinctly a conversation with Mrs. Taylor after you had come to Newport about the man who designed and spearheaded the building of the house. And you definitely remember her singing his praises above and beyond normal admiration.

Max chuckles with you and sends you a sly smirk. "I've met him and you aren't going to believe it...but I think he's Frank Loyd Wright. Or he becomes Frank Loyd Wright."

"Are you telling me our house is going to get built during Frank Lloyd Wright's goth phase?" For some reason that just tickles you endlessly, making you burst out into more giggles and hold Max's hand tighter.

"Apparently." He pulls you close in the center of what will be the ballroom and starts to hum a little tune, starting to sway to the rhythm. "And here is where we waltz."

"Our very own ballroom." As perfectly fitted to his arms as the first night you danced together, following his steps is easy and fluid, giving you the feeling of taking a deep and relieving breath.

"Our very own ballroom." He hums, grinning at the idea. "I want to put a design on the floor, haven't figured out what."

"Do you have any ideas?" There has been some beautiful woodwork in the houses you've been inside recently, and you wonder if any of those had given him ideas.

"I was thinking about a symbol. Maybe a protective one for you." He murmurs, blowing a kiss at you.

"Then we had better ask abuela. Mom said she has a lot of experience with runes and things like that." Since the spellbinding was lifted from you in New York, your memory has resettled itself. There were things that were embedded in you — false memories and gnarled half-truths to keep your mind from remembering its magic — that have lifted from your thoughts like a curtain allowing sunrise to shine through. Since then, you've remembered quite a lot. Including how your mother used to do her tarot readings at the dining room table when you were little and how your Yayo would always bring you dancing shoes for your birthday every year. Your childhood doesn't feel cloudy and far away anymore.

"Perhaps the floor will be embedded in something that will aid your time travel." He muses, smirking at the thought. "Something that would bring us to our ballroom."

"A little magical transporter pad in the middle of the ballroom?" You suggest, not bothering to suppress a giggle. "I'll have to incorporate 'beam me up' into my spell work."

"I always loved Star Trek when I was younger." Max admits with zero shame. "Next Generation of course."

"Of course." And of course you fully agree, having watched so much science fiction with your father as a kid. "The Holodeck? A dream come true."

“We have our own version of the holodeck.” He teases. “Time. We will be able to go anywhere if this works. Want to visit Pompeii before the eruption? We can take a day trip.”

"Where would you want to go?" Your dancing has slowed a little but you're still turning around the marked out space that will one day be your ballroom. "When or where? What do you want to see?"

“Anywhere.” He shrugs. “Everywhere. History is before us and behind us. It will be interesting to see it in person.”

The freedom of it is enticing, you have to admit, and you grin as he spins you around. "We're going to have to get really good historical clothing. A whole closet of it so we can go anywhere or anytime we want."

“Who says we don’t already have that?” Max challenges with a grin. “We also didn’t know we had a house.”

"That..." Your eyes flick up to his and you tilt your head, amused at the thought that you might already have a hoard of clothes and souvenirs to dig through in the future. "Is a very good point."

“I’m just full of wisdom.” He teases playfully, right before he dips you low to the ground just to hear your breath catch and your heartbeat speed up.

"Didn't anybody ever tell you not to play with your food?" You tease. He's only ever fed from you once, but you've found yourself thinking about it more and more since that night, and how much more intimate it made your love life.

His brow wings up and he smirks at you. “My food?” He asks, playing coy. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

"You know what I mean." He picks you up again, setting you on your feet, but holds you even closer than before. "I've been...thinking about it. A lot."

“And what have you been thinking about it?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"That..." If you roll your eyes slightly at how dramatic he's being, it's only because the heat of embarrassment is rising in your cheeks a little. "That it was...really sexy..."

“It was sexy, wasn’t it?” He hums smugly. “Two very different parts of my body, buried inside you at the same time.”

"We should definitely do it again soon." If his voice drops anymore it will be in his toes, and it is doing things to you. Very distracting, very horny things.

“How soon?” Max inquires, cock twitching in his pants. He’s hungry, but the blood your grandfather has been supplying has been alleviating that. Although it’s not as sweet as your blood.

"Can you wait until tonight?" A smirk graces your lips, though you can't feel the evidence of his arousal with so many layers of clothing between you. "Or are we actually going to fuck in the back of that phaeton?"

“I was thinking more of using that blanket and having you sit on my cock while I bite your tender neck.” Max growls. “But we can always wait for tonight.”

"If we wait until tonight, we can take as long as we want, and I you can have me as many different ways as you want." There's the added benefit of being able to be naked the entire time, too, because Max is nothing if not stunningly handsome.

“Fiiiiiine.” He huffs and pouts, but there is a smirk tucked into his cheek. “You are teasing me, knowing how much I ache for you.”

"You're not the only one aching," you promise him. If he could get one hand under all of the layers of skirts you're wearing right now, he'd feel exactly how aching and wet you are at the moment. "I just really like having you naked."

“It is pretty great, isn’t it?” He asks cockily. “Killer abs and all.” He chuckles and spins you around. “Although I love when you are naked more.”

"Then I think it's a really good reason to excuse ourselves after dinner." That big four-poster bed is calling your name. Or rather, it's going to be the place that you call his name.

"Yes, you are exhausted." He tells you dramatically. "Or perhaps you have a headache and require my special attention." He leers and flashes his fangs at you while waggling his brows.

“Very special attention.” You agree with a tone so serious that it circles back again to silly.

“A shot of protein cures everything.” Max jokes.

The inelegant snort that earns from you devolves you both into a fit of laughter right there in the middle of the clearing. “You’re ridiculous,” you pronounce when you finally stop laughing and can breathe again. “And I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” From the first time he had met you, he had expected you to be prime and proper, but you are delightfully dirty when you want and you love his sense of humor.

“Show me more of the house?” You’ll stay out here in the chilly ocean breeze with him all afternoon, dreaming and scheming about all the things the future has in store. But you definitely also want to see the outline of the house the way he’s imagined it.

“Our dinning room is off the ballroom.” He explains, moving towards the east side of the stakes. “So the buffet tables can be replenished by the kitchens easily.”

“Are you already planning our first party?” Sure you’re teasing him, but you know what you would choose for it to be.

“I think we have to have a party.” He huffs, eyes wide. “Don’t you? Unless you want this to be the mysterious house that everyone is dying to see and never do?”

“We’ll enigmatically say it’s been in the family for a long time,” you suggest with a grin. “We have to throw a party.”

He chuckles and nods. “That was my thought. Your grandfather has taught me about establishing new identities when our will become “too old”. On paper at least.”

"He's enjoying having someone to pass all of his knowledge down to." Even if you don't know your grandfather too intimately, you certainly can see the pride on his face from spending time with Max. It's the same expression he has with Emmanuel, and you suppose for very similar reasons.

“He could have started the training a little sooner.” Max huffs, shaking his head. “Feel like I’m back studying for my MBA.”

“And since he knows exactly how well you did studying for that MBA, he knows how well you’ll do now.” The outlines of the house are well marked, and when you come to the edge of the dining room he leads you along the demarcation of what you assume will be the great hall. “It wouldn’t be a Yayo-approved level of dramatic reveal if he had started with you sooner.”

He rolls his eyes only because he knows it’s true. “Can’t spoil the surprises.” He snorts.

"Never," you laugh right along with him. "Gods forbid."

The tour of the upstairs is less concrete, more just telling you about the living quarters of the little gothic castle he is building for his witch soulmate. Explaining it to you in vivid detail.

The two of you spend hours out there, walking every inch of the property and dreaming over every detail. It's a fairly remarkable feat of planning, but it sounds marvelous, and by the time you're bundling back into the carriage with Max, you can't stop smiling.

“So, what do you think?” He asks as the Phaeton is turned around and headed back towards your grandparents house. “Too much? Or just right?”

“For us?” You loop one hand around his arm as he steers the horses and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’d say absolutely perfect. It can be grand when we want it to be and intimate for all the other times. Dramatic but comfy. That’s perfect for us.”

“That is what I want.” He admits. “Plus, building in this era, hopefully the building will last for hundreds of years for our adventures.”

“Do you think…” Shifting beside him, you look up at Max seriously. “That…I ought to tell abuela and Mom? Not who I am but…where we came from? Otherwise won’t they be wondering why we’ve suddenly disappeared but are building a house?”

“Your grandfather will tell them after we go home.” He and Max had a long, serious conversation and had come to the conclusion that was the best course of action. That way the time could be enjoyed without questions that might give away your identity and somehow change the future.

“You two have talked through everything.” And you’re grateful for it. Otherwise the anxiety of the whole situation might have kept you from making so many wonderful memories.

"I know it seems like we are planning your life for you." Max reaches for your hand again. "If you want to be included, I will talk with your grandfather."

“Honestly?” You shrug a little, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “I don’t mind having you look out for me. Making sure I’m safe and putting a literal roof over my head? It’s comforting. I had…all those years there where there was no stability. Anything could be gone in an instant. So this? This…feels pretty amazing, if I’m honest.”

"As long as it doesn't feel controlling." He murmurs quietly. That was his worry, to somehow make you feel like you are back under someone's thumb. His own thumb rubs the back of your hand gently. "You are my partner. My equal in everything."

“And I know that if I said something made me unhappy, you would fix it in a heartbeat.” You grin at him, setting your tongue firmly in your cheek. “Even though you don’t have one.”

"I do when I kiss you." He can't help but lean in to press his lips against yours just to feel it. He grins against your lips and hums happily when he feels that bump in his chest.

"Watch the road, baby." Even as you hum it, you can't help giggling quietly.

"I can drive and kiss my soulmate at the same time." He huffs, rolling his eyes at you dramatically and sighing. "Fiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnneeeeee."

"You can, but I don't want to have to explain to my grandfather that his phaeton got overturned on the road because we got handsy," you tell him with a guilty grin, knowing it will happen.

“You’re right.” It grates that you are right about that, but he knows he can’t keeps his hands off you when he want to touch you. Especially now that a certain step has been taken.

Instead of letting him pout, you flash Max a grin instead. "Quickie before dinner?"

“Absolutely.” He smirks and winks at you. “Want to see if we can set a record for how fast you cum?”

"We need to keep a tally of what the fastest really is." It's like dangling the carrot of a challenge in front of Max, and you know he can never resist a challenge. "Just for fun?"

"Timers." Max huffs. "Why can't they have timers in this era that are accurate to the millisecond?"

"I'll wear your Apple Watch when we get home," you tease him. Max is always so cute when he pouts. "See how fast my heart rate spikes."

"I want to time from the moment we enter the bedroom until you are screaming my name." Max tells you with a chuckle.

"That never takes long." He has learned very quickly how to play your body like a finely tuned instrument. Thankfully, one rocky evening of magical interruption hasn't interrupted your desire for each other.

"That's because you cum so easily, sweetheart." He teases, particularly proud of that fact considering that you had said that you never really came during sex.

“Weird.” Particularly lighthearted in your teasing, you roll your eyes at him and laugh. “It’s almost like I respond better to clitoral stimulation and nobody before you knew what the fuck a clitoris was.”

"I studied in school." He winks at you playfully. "Your little clit is my favorite sucker, toy, whatever you want to call it. It's the best."

You toss him a smirk, leaning into his side again as he steers the horses back up the road. “It loves you, too.”

Max eyes you smugly. "I know."

“You’re so fucking pleased with yourself.” It cracks you up all over again, sending you into giggles at his side. Truly one of the best things about how easy it is to spend time with Max is the laughter. “But you’ve earned it, I suppose.”

"You wound me." He pouts. "I've most definitely earned it. No supposing about it."

“Maybe I just like when you prove it to me?”

Throwing his head back, Max laughs. "Of course you do."

******

Your morning magic lessons have persisted. The hours between breakfast and lunch have been spent in the tower with your grandmother and sometimes your mother as they help you to control the powers that have been locked inside you for so long. This morning Annie come upstairs with you after sharing breakfast as a family. Max kissed you goodbye at the table before leaving with your grandfather to go out to the site of the future Seacliff Castle, and your grandmother had been delighted with a morning for you three witches to spend time together.

The smell of herbs fill the air and Cookie hums as she builds up the fire in the hearth for the cauldron that is suspended over it. The quick flick of her wrist and the almost murmured words creates a flame that is powerful and she smirks at it. "Today we will work on healing." She decides. "It can be very useful, especially as the soulmate of a vampire."

"I suspect one accumulates infinite nicks and cuts over hundreds of years," you agree, dutifully settling yourself down on the stool beside Annie on one side of the fire. It's clear that your mother is an incredibly gifted witch, but she is still honing her skills. She might be more powerful than your grandmother one day, but that day has not yet come.

"Max will heal," She gives a small laugh. "I am talking about healing yourself when you soulmate gets too amorous and bites too hard."

"Oh." Even though his saliva heals the wound on your neck whenever he bites you — which he has now done a total of three times and you ache a little just thinking about it — of course there may be a time when he is not so loving and careful. A time when things get, as your abuela puts it, amorous. "I...uh...of course."

Annie looks queasy and swallows but Cookie smirks. "Plus you might be in a position to heal another human." She mentions quietly. “My talents were of great use during the war.”

"I imagine there would be a great many times healing magic might come in handy." You offer, just thinking out loud now. "Including childbirth."

"Childbirth, I would suggest having another witch with you." She advises.

"Goodness." Annie glances at you with worry in her eyes. "I cannot say I look forward to that at all."

"Your father created a tonic." She reminds her daughter and look of utter love as she reaches out and caresses Annie's cheek. "The twenty-three hours of labor it took to bring you into the world was lovely. Like floating on a cloud."

"You may be the only woman in the world to ever be able to say that." Although the bit about it taking twenty-three hours makes you cringe internally. Thinking back, your mother had told you she was only in labor with you for something like five or six. "That makes you very lucky."

“The end was absolutely worth it.” Cookie beams at Annie who huffs in embarrassment. Her mother sometimes overly showers her with affection.

"Truly." You couldn't agree more, but it's for far more reasons than either Cookie or Annie might think.

"Have you and Max had a conversation about children?" She asks, prying slightly but not even embarrassed about that.

It's impossible to admit that you're trying to have children in the traditional way without giving away your bloodline — and therefore telling them that you are related to them in some very direct way — so you cross your hands over your lap and pretend to be quite embarrassed for a second while you decide what to say. "The house that he and Mr. Brown have designed will have several bedrooms," you tell them finally. "We are hoping to be able to adopt many children throughout our lifetime."

"It is always wonderful to be able to do that." Cookie agrees. "There have been several children that my soulmate brought home." She smiles at her daughter. "Although none after we had you."

"Families can take many shapes." You offer, shifting slightly in your seat and generally being glad that no one seems to be pushing the point any further.

"Yes." She gives you a small pat on your arm and then turns back to the cauldron.

It feels oddly patronizing, that pat on the arm, but you brush past it and smile at your grandmother. “So what will we be learning today? Healing, yes, but what specifically?”

"Supernatural injuries." Cookie supplies, just as mysterious as her soulmate at times.

“Vampire bites?” You guess, remembering what she had said earlier. “Singeing yourself with magic?”

"There can be a host of different injuries that can come up from having a vampire for a soulmate." She's speaking from experience but she won't gross her daughter. "I'm sure you understand what I mean."

“I…might have an idea.” There’s a chance she’s referencing rough or at least energetic sex, and you determinedly don’t want to think about your grandparents fucking. Clearing your throat and nodding, you just try not to look uncomfortable. “Although I’m not sure I understand how that could result in an injury.”

"Mother." Annie hisses the word, clearly mortified since she knows what her mother with say. Cookie ignores her daughter and gives you a small smile. "There is a reason that I have only had one child." She admits. "I cannot physically carry anymore."

“I see.” Obviously this isn’t something you had ever known before, and you look between both women sitting with you. “But…you are healthy now, are you not?”

"Unfortunately, my magic was not what it is now, nor did I have the potions I have." She sighs sadly, knowing that she would have loved a large family but it wasn't to be. "When I healed myself, it was poorly done and I have accepted that my darling Annie will be my only child."

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” The realization that you might have had aunts or uncles comes out of nowhere. It wasn’t something you had ever considered, and now the loss feels something real and tangible. “It’s very generous of you to share your knowledge.”

“I believe that it is my job to care for the potential mates of my husband’s kind.” She murmurs softly. “Especially when they are young, vampires are not aware of their strength, their hunger.”

“Their own strength can surprise even them.” Some of the stories that Max has told you have made that pretty clear. It’s easy for young vampires to get carried away or not realized how far they’re pushing.

“Yes.” She nods, “so it’s safe to say that a strong healer as a partner goes a long way.” Annie cuts her eyes away and doesn’t say anything, but it’s obvious she’s not interested in the conversation.

“And a well-rounded witch is an asset to any coven. Especially a strong one.” Trying to include Annie in this feels almost foreboding considering you know what will happen to Emmanuel, but it isn’t your place to say. It isn’t your place to get involved at all.

“Exactly.” Cookie beams in approval, happy that you understand and share her outlook. “Unfortunately, if you don’t use your magic, it tends to be unreliable so practice is always needed.”

“As I have learned.” In fact, it’s something of an understatement. Last night you came so hard that you started shimmering — that had been an adventure.

“So, we will make ourselves some tea, and then we will work on the spells and potions.” Cookie decides.

“I’ll make the tea,” you offer, moving from your seat to the small side table your abuela keeps stocked in the tower with various kinds of tea and a heavy cast iron kettle that hangs over the fire. It’s good practice for you to conjure the water necessary to fill the kettle, and each time you’re proud when it's a little easier.

“Thank you, my dear.” It’s cozy, the three of you. It feels right in a way that she can’t quite describe. Her soulmate has encourage her to spend as much time as possible with you and it is a task she performs happily.

In the quiet of the moment, there is a sinking of your heart. It's less than a week now until the Samhain ball and you and Max have selected that night to travel back to your time — after a few secret test drives of your time travel magic where you successfully jumped a few minutes into the future each time. "I...wanted to speak to both of you." You say finally, looking between them with your hand hovering over the heavy kettle as your magic fills it steadily with water. "If I might?"

Looking up from her own work, Cookie senses that there is something bothering you. Something that you need to get off your chest. She abandons the herbs and motions you to the table. "Of course," she hums quietly. "Whatever you need to say, we will listen."

Rather than abandoning your task, you finish filling the kettle and put it on the heat before sitting down. The time it will take the boil is plenty enough time to tell them what you need to. "Max and I have been talking," you begin, sitting down between them. "And we think we might leave soon to do more traveling."

"Oh?" Cookie raises her brows in surprise and Annie gasps. "A tour of Europe?" She asks, envy and hope in her voice.

"Perhaps." You nod, glad to see that the harmless lie that you and Max devised seems to be so readily accepted. "We thought we might see as much of the world as we can while the house is being built. Though...we do not know how long that will take."

"Travel does take time." Cookie hums, smiling slightly. "It is faster than it used to be. The architect has your plans, and my husband and I will be willing to do any decision making if you would like."

"Max has been working with Mr. Brown on all of the plans, I have faith that he will be able to make any and all decisions necessary." In fact, you and Max had talked over it and decided that you liked Chateau-sur-Mer enough that you were willing to trust Seacliff Castle to your grandfather while you were 'away'.

"Then you must go and not worry yourselves." Cookie tells you. "You can always send a telegram to inquire."

“But that means…” Annie seems to have come to a conclusion all at once, eyes widening and looking stricken. “I know.” You nod slightly, looking sheepish if not managing downright upset. “It means we will be out of country when you get married.” It was, in addition to taking care of the reason you wouldn’t be around much going forward — an incredibly good excuse. European or world tours by the rich were very common in this time and it provided you with a very convenient out so Annie could not invite you to the wedding that will never happen.

"Oh." Her entire frame seems to wither slightly and she nods, even if she is disappointed. She was raised with better manners than that and her mother would be very upset if she caused a scene. "That's...disappointing."

"I'm so sorry, Annie." Disappointing your mother is not on your list of good feelings in the world, and if it weren't that you know how poorly her engagement is going to go, you would be badgering Max to agree to travel back to the wedding day with you.

"We will just have to visit when you come back and I can tell you all about how married life is treating me." She smiles reassuringly at you, reaching out and clasping your hand gently.

"When we come back we will be very nearby," you promise her. Her hand in yours is the ultimate reassurance, and you squeeze it back just as gently. "And you will have to come and see it, of course. We insist."

"I would love that." She promises, nodding quickly. "I would love to see what you and your soulmate design for a home. Max has...inspired taste."

"He certainly has unique thoughts for the house." Every single one of them sounds fantastic to you, if you're honest, but you won't rub it in now that she's upset about you leaving. Instead, as much as it twists you inside, you flip the topic back to her. "And we will be very glad to see where you and Emmanuel have settled."

“Yes…I’m sure there will be quite a bit of travel.” She smiles dreamily. “A working honeymoon.”

"Have you decided yet where you'll live?" Cookie asks, trying her very best to sound nonchalant but actually very deeply invested in the answer.

“We haven’t decided.” Annie admits. “Emmanuel will need to be close to his family for his business but he also wants to be near you and father.”

"That sounds very much like one house in New York and another here in Newport." Thinking of your mother as one of the fashionable New York society set isn't odd to you at all anymore, and in fact it makes you smile. "It sounds very lovely."

“That is what I am hopefully for.” She admits with a small giggle. “But Emmanuel has also talked about a house in San Francisco, when we have to go west.”

"All the more reason to build here as well." Cookie insists. It is such a terribly modern phenomenon for children to move far away from their parents and she dreads the idea of losing Annie entirely. No matter how happy her daughter might be.

“We will be in Newport often, mother.” She assures her mother, although it’s clear that she’s excited for the future. “Emmanuel wishes to work closely with father.”

"I'm sure that will be very good for them both." You make yourself smile, but hop up from your seat to take the kettle off of the fire and pour three cups of tea.

Annie rolls her eyes playfully and huffs but she’s grinning by the time she’s accepting the tea cup. “One can only hope.”

“Drink your tea, girls.” Cookie smiles approvingly, her own cup in hand before the rolling fire. “And then we will begin.”

******

"I'm nervous," you hum, pacing restlessly around the guest room on the third floor of Chateau-sur-Mer with Max mere feet away as he tries and retries to knot his bowtie in the full-length mirror.

"I am too." He admits quietly, his eyes moving from the bowtie to meet yours in the reflection. "Not the time traveling. I know you will get us home, Dolly." He assures you. "I'm nervous about what they will think by us leaving."

“Hopefully they’ll accept that we were too upset for goodbyes.” The letters you’ve written over the last few days — to your grandparents, your mother, to Emmanuel, to Lina Astor, and to Alice and Cornelius Vanderbilt — all laid out that you and Max are taking your tour of the world couldn’t bear the melancholy of saying goodbye. They thank your dear loved ones for hosting you, for their friendship, and for their kindness. They express the want to see these friends again. They are the goodbyes that you know you’ll sob too hard over if you have to say them in person.

"Only your grandfather will know the truth for now." He sighs, turning around and reaching for you. "I know you will miss your mother."

“We’ll come back.” You’ve already decided that, knowing that Max has also made friends here. This is a place and time you both have found surprising comfort in.

"Once we get back, though, I want to go through all the old bird's letters." Max snorts, grinning at you and giving you something to look forward to.

“All of abuela’s letters and all of the clothes in storage.” You could not agree more. “And all the things that Seacliff has undoubtedly been filled with that we still don’t know the stories of.”

"True." He nods and smiles at the excitement that you will have through the mansion that had been built for you.

“That’s what I have to keep telling myself. That we’ll come back, and that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.” Instinctively, you move across the room again. This time to Max’s arms. “And that I won’t fuck up bringing us home.”

"You won't." He knows this, even if you continuously worry about it. You hadn't really slept last night.

“You have such unshakable faith in me.” Sinking into his arms helps immeasurably, banishing some of the worst thoughts with the cool touch of his hands on your back. Your gown shows just enough of your shoulders and arms that he can touch your back, which was entirely strategic in your part.

"What I don't have is faith in myself." He confesses, watching a frown bloom on that beautiful face of yours. "No faith I won't whisk you away to ravage in you the in gardens." He adds with a smirk and a cocky wink. "Not when my wife will be the most stunning creature at the ball."

"It wouldn't be the first time we've left a party early to tango," you grin up at him and take the moment as a sigh of relief. "Perhaps that's where they'll think we've gone when we disappear tonight. Just ran away to our bed to indulge ourselves."

“It is a good possibility.” He laughs and slides his hands up and down your back. “Are you ready to go home, sweetheart? Really? If you want to stay….”

"As much as I want to spend time with my mother? It's time." Having gone over it in your mind several times over the last week, you've weighed the selfishness of wanting to stay with historical side effects, the affect in might have on Max, and all manner of other things, and decided that ultimately it is time to go back to the future. "We'll plan to come back when we start to miss it enough, and then we can be excited for it then."

Max nods. He hadn’t wanted to pressure you, but every day you spend in this time is one that you could possibly alter the future. As much as he would love to right every wrong in your past, he needs to keep his word to your grandfather. “We will make it soon.” He promises.

“Let me…” Reaching up, you tug and finesse his tie into place, offering him a soft smile. “There. We should go down soon.”

“We should.” The good thing about this time is that he can kiss you and there’s no lipstick that will transfer. Making him smirk and bite your bottom lip gently after he steals a kiss. “There. Now they are darker.” He teases.

“When we get home it’s going to be transfer-proof lipstick only.” Mostly because any time he nips at you like that you just want to drag him into bed and ride him into the next day — but that’s beside the point.

“Awww that’s no fun.” He sends you a playful pout before turning and offering his arm. “Shall we, Mrs. Phillips?”

“We shall.” You take his arm, but give it a light squeeze. “I’m going to miss that,” you admit, not afraid to say so one bit.

“Maybe when we get back, we can make it official?” Max asks casually, glancing over at you before looking ahead towards the stairs.

"Maybe, he says, like I'm not going to agree immediately." In fact, you're beaming at him immediately, squeezing his arm under your hand and leaning in to his side. "I'd love that. Almost as much as I love you."

“Yeah?” It’s still something of a novelty for him, to be loved so completely. “Maybe we should do that? Something small? In the gardens?”

“Maybe…” you bite your lip slightly and look up at him when you reach the stairs. “Maybe that would be how we open Seacliff? With a little wedding?”

“Really?” His eyes light up and he nods. “We can do that.” He agrees instantly. “A little wedding and a large ball afterwards?”

"Small wedding, big reception?" It sounds exactly like something the two of you would enjoy, and the way your heart skips a beat is so full of joy. "I think it sounds perfect."

“And I get to haul my wife off for some wedding sex.” Max chuckles.

“Your wife is going to insist on it, actually.” You throw him a wink like he likes to do to you as you descend the stairs together. “The party can go all night and so can we.”

“We will have our own party.” He promises with a grin. “After our waltz, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and haul you out.”

“I have absolutely no doubt about it.” Considering his incredible, supernatural strength? He could probably lift the whole house if necessary. “In fact,” you lower your voice, hearing the sounds on the last-minute party preparations or perhaps the first arrivals on the ground floor. “I’ll be begging for it.”

“You’ll be begging for something else.” He jokes, smirking to himself. “Especially after I very discreetly make you cum in front of everyone.”

“Oh really?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

“You are going to grind down on my knee while we dance.” He explains with a smug tone.

"So no giant ballgown." A decisive nod follows the thought and you giggle. "Got it."

“Would you be too disappointed?” Max asks softly. “Otherwise I can have you wear some vibrating panties.”

"I..." Shrugging slightly, your eyes track up to his and you bite your lip again. Wondering if he'll find your honest answer to be too depressing. "I stopped dreaming about my wedding a long time ago. So I'll wear whatever you want me to and we'll have whatever kind of party you want. As long as I get to marry you, I don't care."

Your answer breaks his heart, and it’s not even beating. “Sweetheart…” Max stops the walk towards the ballroom, pulling you into a small alcove and cups your cheeks. “I- I would marry you at city hall. Just you and me. But I want you to start dreaming again. I want you to feel safe enough to dream.”

"I do. I do feel safe enough." And that is entirely because of him. Or ninety-five percent because of him and five very solid percent because of Mrs. Taylor, who you will never disrespect or disobey for as long as your magically prolonged life allows. "I just...all that matters to me is that you're there. But if you want me to dream? Baby, I'll take Allison dress shopping with me so fast your head will spin."

“I want you to do whatever you want. Whatever that looks like.” He admits.

"We'll talk about it when we get back," you promise him. "I'll dream a little and you'll dream a little, and maybe there will be some parts of the balls we've been to that we'll want to keep for ourselves." Even though your hands are in his, you tug him even closer and press a soft kiss to his lips. "For tonight, let's just enjoy our last night in 1885."

“A toast-less toast.” Max declares softly. “To our last night in 1885—” he poses. “May it be as magical as we wish it to be.”

"Literally." Tongue firmly planted in cheek, you kiss him again — longer this time, to seal the toast — and turn back toward the ballroom with resolve.

“Here goes nothing.” Max hums as Mr. Taylor, resplendent in his butler’s garb for the evening, spots you and quickly opens the door to the ballroom. “Now presenting, Mister and Mistress Maximus P. Phillips.”

You know Max enjoys the little bit of fuss and the formality of being announced at balls, but you will never cease to be amused at how he insists on giving a different version of Max to every different butler or attendant no matter where you go. "Oh, my dears." Cookie is the first to reach you, holding out her hands to both of you and positively beaming. "How resplendent you look. Most wonderful. Come in, come in, I have Dolly's dance card here and I'm afraid you've already been asked after by several ladies, Max. You'll both be most sought after tonight."

“As long as you save two dances for my wife.” He insists. “No- three.” He waggles his brows, knowing how much of a scandal that would be. “If it is acceptable to you, of course.”

"I know you like your waltzes." The older woman hums, smiling at the two of you with her maternal pride. She takes the small pencil that she will tie to your wrist along with your dance card and writes Max's name down for three dances before hurrying you both along. "Go, dears. And enjoy yourselves."

“Shall we check the refreshments?” He asks. If you have a cup of lemonade in your hands, you are less likely to be offered champagne.

"Nothing's better than abuela's lemonade." You hum, keeping the abuela part as quiet as possible.

“I know you love it.” Your grandmother insists on making the lemonade for events herself, claiming it is a secret.

"I bet Mrs. Taylor has the recipe." There's no way that Cookie entrusted it to anyone else, and when you reach the punch bowls — one with harmless, regular lemonade and the other with intensely alcoholic punch – you pick up two glasses. "Who else are you planning on dancing with tonight? Besides me and Annie and Cookie?"

“I figured that if Mrs. Astor shows, I will be required to dance with her as well.” Max shrugs. “If they aren’t you, I’m just going through the motions.” He admits quietly.

“At least with Lina we can say some sort of goodbye.” The older woman had promised in her last letter to bring your copy of her grimoire with her to the ball, so you know that she will absolutely be here tonight. “That’s worth something.”

“Yes it is.” Max reaches up and pinches your chin softly. Apparently it’s an acceptable show of affection in this time. “Just no tears, my love.”

“I’ll do my best.” And that’s all you can promise him. Saying goodbye to your family without actually saying goodbye is going to tear your heart out. At least this time you have the solace of knowing you’ll see them again.

“I know.” He hands you the lemonade that he ladles up and gives you a reassuring look. “I’ll be right beside.”

“Don’t you make the picture of domestic bliss.” Yayo’s voice from behind you cuts through the quiet moment, and the smile in his tone is evident. “Have you been looking forward to tonight?”

“Absolutely.” Max turns and greets your grandfather with a firm handshake. “Your wife puts on a spectacular ball.”

“We’re very grateful to be included.” Hugging him would be an inappropriate show of affection since no one else knows this man as your grandfather, so you have to just accept that a warm handshake is as intimate as anything could be.

“There is no reason why you would not be included.” He reminds you as he looks to see Annie and Emmanuel venture closer. “My daughter is very fond of you.” His lips play into an enigmatic smile. “I wonder why that is.”

“It is so very difficult to fathom,” you tease, offering him a mirror of his own mysterious expression. Though yours quickly slides into a grin. “Though one might say our bond is almost…familial.”

“Hmmm.” He nods and lifts a brow. “I was hoping there was still a spot for me on your dance card for tonight.”

“Of course.” If you’re honest? You would have saved him a dance even without your dance card. After all, Yayo has been a champion of your dancing since you were just a toddler. This version of him doesn’t know that though, not yet, so you simply hold out your dance card for him to sign.

“Good.” He smiles happily and pats your arm. “Then I will see you later on.” He nods at Max and quickly disappears.

“We should find Annie and Emmanuel.” Linking your hand around Max’s arm again is comfortable and familiar as the ballroom grows fuller and fuller. “You should take a spot on her card and Emmanuel should be on mine.”

“I believe that is a must.” Max hum, “I would love to dance with my mother in law.” To the unknowing ear, Max would sound sarcastic, but he really means it. He adores your mother and it’s charming to see where some of your habits come from. Even the ones you aren’t aware of.

"We'll make a nice night of it." And then, sometime in the wee hours of the morning, you'll disappear. And that will be that.

“We could stay.” Max offers gently. If you wanted to stay in this time, he would be willing. Wanting you to be happy.

"I'm beginning to think you want to stay." He's offered multiple times, and you tilt your head at him slightly. "Is that...why you've offered? Because you would rather stay here than go back?"

“Sweetheart…” Max turns back to you and gives a very human sigh. “You shine around your M and GM,” he decided abbreviating them would be better in public, just in case. “I’ve never seen someone change so much- smile so much, laugh. If being here is what makes that happen, I’ll live without my phone, or laptop.”

"Honey..." Blowing out a deep breath, you take his hand and pull him into the library to get away from the commotion and noise of the ballroom. "Max...honey, if I'm shining here? It's because of how much I love you. How happy you make me. I mean...I love being around my family again. More than I can possibly say. But if you told me that you never wanted to come back here again then I would tell Yayo to stop construction on Seacliff immediately and we would just go back to our time like none of this ever happened. I just...I don't think you feel that way. You shine here, too, Max. I don't know if you realize that."

He huffs, shaking his head slightly. Unsure if that was true. “That would never happen.” He tells you, talking about stopping construction. “I don’t care what time we live, I just want to be with you.”

“Are you happy here?” It isn’t an easy question, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s an important one.

“It’s different, quiet.” He admits. “But I think there’s something to be said for the quiet life. Question for you.” He lifts a brow. “Are you prepared to live through history? Atrocities you know are coming, and not do anything about it?”

“Are we talking world wars, or are we talking about my mother?” Either way, the question makes you pause, biting your lip and looking up at him with curiosity in your eyes. “I think there’s something to be said for the quiet life.,” you echo. “For being a part of the movements that will shape history. I think…I didn’t really understand what Lina meant before — about finding where you belong. But this time is good for both of us.”

“It is.” Max acknowledges. It’s not like he has a lot of close friends in his time. “So what are you thinking? Just stay? Go back and tell Allison?”

“What if…” Chewing on your lip again, you step in closer to him to have your arms around his waist and squeeze his hips slightly. “What if…when it comes time for us to be born…we time travel home again? Live right up to our lifetimes and then get out of dodge so we’re not tempted to check in on ourselves? We were going to time travel the night of the Samhain ball, right? So we can just…do that on the Samhain night before you’re born. Right? We’ll still return at the same time we were going to anyway.”

“That’s-“ he’s struck dumb for a second by the sheer genius of the idea. “Genius.” He hadn’t been looking forward to leaving if he was honest. He’s immortal, he has all the time in the world. But you don’t. “You would have to take my blood.” He reminds you quietly.

“I know.” You nod, letting your arms slip around his waist. “And I’ll start tonight, if you’re okay with that.”

“Are you sure?” He knows that you have still been thinking about regularly taking his blood.

“I told you I wanted to spend my whole life with you,” you remind him, voice quiet in the dim light of the library. “I want it to be the longest life we can possibly have together.”

“I love you too.” He teases quietly, reassured by your words. “Do you want to just enjoy the night or find your grandfather?”

“We should tell him tonight.” As much as you may enjoy his — and Max’s — flare for the dramatic, it doesn’t quite work here. “Otherwise he’ll be expecting to find notes on our pillow in the morning and find us instead.”

“That would be interesting.” Max chuckles and leans in. “Considering you will most likely be asleep on my cock.”

He might be right, but your eyes still widen and you instinctively look around to make sure no one heard him. “You’ve never complained before,” you mumble instead, mild and momentarily embarrassment evaporating when you find yourself still alone.

Max smirks and winks at you. “The Phillips cause a scandal wherever they go.” He teases you quietly.

“It’s too bad we can’t cause a scandal being caught together like this.” It certainly has a particular lure to it now…being alone with him like this. “Too married for that.”

“If we stay, we will have to get married for real.” He whispers. “We will tell them that we will the marriage to be blessed.”

“We’ll have to build a whole life. Work and a marriage and even a family.” It will be a miracle if it happens, and even though you tell yourself not to count on it, there is so much hope in your voice.

“I know.” Max nods and the bites his lip. “We would need to wait for kids though.” He reminds you softly. “Otherwise Cookie and Annie would suspect something.”

He’s right, and you know he’s right, but for now you disguise your disappointment with teasing. “I guess you better work on your pullout game, then, Mr. Phillips. No condoms in the Gilded Age. At least not good ones.”

“Need to find the inventor of the Trojan.” Max grunts before he reaches for your hand. “I love you.”

"I love you, too." That is, after all, the crux of everything. No matter what else changes in your life, no matter what crazy things may come in the years ahead, you will always love Max.

Before you go and find your grandfather, there’s one thing that Max wants to do first. He bows formally and looks up at you with a doting expression. “May I have your first dance, Mrs. Phillips?”

"Mr. Phillips," you set your hand in his and feel your whole heart lift. "I insist on it."

“Just the first of many first dances in this time.” Max promises, beaming at you as he straightens and starts to escort you into the ballroom.

******

Research had commenced in earnest the next morning, with Allison setting up her laptop in the library while Eddie began to methodically look through paperwork to see if Max’s name was on anything older than just a few years ago. Through the power of internet research, though, and a few masterful keyword searches, Allison is frowning at her laptop in no time. “There is a Mr. and Mrs. M Phillips listed as part of Mrs. Astor’s 400,” she reports, glancing up at Eddie a few feet away. “But they don’t have a Wikipedia page, of course.”

“That would make sense.” Eddie calls out, bent over a file. It seems as though his sire, or Cookie, was meticulous at keeping records and as a result, there were thousands of pages to go through. “Although God help us all if Max bent some of the most power men in history ears.” He snorts.

“Can you imagine?” She huffs in amusement and shakes her head, eyes returning to her laptop screen. “Your sire taught you both how to change identity to hide your immortality, right? What would he have said about names and things like that? Maybe I can find a pattern in identities that Max would have used.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah. It’s good to keep it close to what you’ve had before. Will yourself the estate, set up trusts, that kind of thing.” He frowns slightly, thinking of the fact that Allison is very much human. “If they stayed….Dolly would have had to take Max’s blood, right? She wouldn’t have…”

“She would have taken his blood.” Somehow Allison is sure of that. Not just from the small conversations and early curiosity you had shown, but partially her own hopefulness at seeing you again. “If they got stuck, or they decided to stay, or whatever happened, he wouldn’t have done it without her. And she wouldn’t have left him.”

“No.” Eddie agrees. “He did a complete turn around with her. It’s amazing.” He twitches slightly and opens his mouth to bring up something that he has been thinking about. A lot.

“They love each other. It’s sweet.” Allison looks up from her laptop to see Eddie watching her intently and her smile turns soft. “What’s up, babe?” She asks, as easy as if they weren’t discussing the fate of some of their closest friends.

“It’s- probably stupid…” Eddie acknowledges that but he watches the woman he has completely fallen in love with frown at the idea anything he thinks about is stupid. Allison has been wonderful for him and he can only hope that she is half as happy as he is. “But this has gotten me thinking.”

“About what?” She’s sure it’s made him think about a hell of a lot of things, but Eddie doesn’t usually bring something serious up until he’s fully ready to talk about it so she shuts her laptop and gives him her full attention. “Is everything okay?”

“We aren’t soulmates.” The fact they don’t share marks doesn’t matter to Eddie, but for all the time they’ve spent together, he’s not entirely sure that it doesn’t matter to her. “It’s- I love you, no matter if we have matching marks or not. And I- fuck, Allison, I’m a vampire, I’m going to outlive you.” He huffs in distress.

“Of course you are.” She tilts her head, wondering how this is only starting to bother him now. Or if it has always bothered him and he has just never said anything. “You’re going to outlive any lover that’s mortal. But…I mean, I don’t have any weird illusions about it, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, but I—” He walks over and takes her hand. “Do you care that we aren’t soulmates?” He asks seriously.

Allison shifts, making room for Eddie to sit beside her in the spare desk chair. “I really don’t,” she tells him honestly, her fingers threading through his. “I only care that we love each other.”

His smile stretches wide, happy that she had said that. “Then I want you to be with me, longer than your lifetime.”

“Eddie…” It stings slightly, what he’s suggesting — or at least what she thinks he’s suggesting — and she shakes her head. “That…it won’t work for us…me drinking your blood will only work if we’re soulmates. That’s…” Allison puffs out an unhappy breath. “Magic has rules. Whether we like it or not.”

“Let me change you.” Eddie whispers, biting his lip after he offers. “He would approve.” He knows his sire would love to have Allison turned, if he could choose anyone.

“Oh, Eddie—” Even as the breath leaves her, her hands tighten in his. The hope in his eyes - the love - is overwhelming, and she has to admit to herself that she really had not ever expected him to offer. For as much as Eddie loves her and she loves him? They had never breached the topic before. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t thought about it. “That’s…that’s forever, babe. That’s literally forever. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I don’t care about marks, I care about the fact that I love you. I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you to sickness, old age, time.” He insists. “I want to walk through history with you like Max and Dolly are doing back in the day.”

“A coincidentally similar name on a list doesn’t confirm anything, she reminds him, but Allison smiles warmly when she reaches up to cup Eddie’s cheek. “I’ve been so in love with you for years, you know that. And I just…I never, ever thought we’d get to this place.”

“I’ve been in love with you too.” He admits with a grin. “And once I realized that you felt the same, I just wanted to keep you forever.”

"You really mean that?" There are stories, of course. Stories of witches who traded in their ordinary lives for immortality. Some lost their powers, while some saw their abilities increase threefold. It is a gamble that she would have to be willing to take. But for Eddie? For Eddie? It's possible that Allison would do anything.

“Of course I mean it.” Eddie looks at her lovingly. “I think that I was always meant to love you, soulmates or not. And I will love you until the day I am destroyed.”

"We should talk to your sire before we do anything." Her hands are tight in his, holding on to him and completely unwilling to let go. "Make sure that there aren't any hidden catch-alls that could make things complicated before we...before I...before we take the next step."

“I…might have already mentioned something to him.” Eddie flusters and the fresh blood that he had consumed today causes the blush to cross his cheeks lightly.

"Suddenly you being so sure he won't mind makes more sense," she grins at him, feeling that lift and flutter and her heart that is so frequent with Eddie. "I'm sure he has some kind of...absurdly dramatic moment of revelation between us planned for a conversation about it. And then," Allison's stomach flips with happiness. "And then maybe we can mark the occasion somehow?"

“How would you want to mark the occasion?” Eddie asks softly, knowing that he would give her the world. Wants to give her the world, which he technically would with immortality.

"Maybe we can take a little trip?" After all the planning of the ball, and the immense step forward that this will be, Allison might have a little plan of her own in her head. If Eddie truly wants to give her forever? Then she's going to give him a promise of forever as well. "We'll have a little romantic getaway."

“Of course.” He nods, a little disappointed that he hasn’t thought of that himself.

"But first." Leaning forward, Allison presses a kiss to his lips and smiles, radiating that reassuring energy from herself to him as much as she can. "Let's see if we can find some kind of actual trace of these two weirdos in history. When we get burnt out on historical research, we can plan our trip."

“Right.” It feels like the pressure has been lifted off his chest. “There has to be some sort of clue if Max was there. His ego wouldn’t let him go completely undetected.”

"Possibly unfortunate for history, but fortunate for us." With one more kiss, Allison nudges Eddie back to the finals and opens her laptop once more. "I'm going to check New York City census records for the last name Phillips in the 1880s. If they were part of the 400, there will be traces of them somewhere."

Eddie tilts his head in confusion for a moment. “Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “The 400! Mrs. Astor’s list right?” He rushes back over to a book and grabs it before hurrying back over to Allison. Preferring not to use his vampiric speed to not scatter papers around the room.

"It's such a New York thing to have a famous list of fashionable people." She would roll her eyes over it if it wasn't proving so useful at the moment. "What do you have?"

“I actually have a list of attendees to a wedding brunch.” Eddie flips through the pages and frowns. “That’s strange, it says that the couple was already married but wished to have a celebration with friends and family.” He looks up at Allison. “Did that happen often?”

"Sometimes." She chews her lip between her teeth as he opens the journal from the library's files and sets it out in front of her. "I guess sometimes people did small church weddings and then large breakfast or brunches as receptions. Queen Victoria had a wedding breakfast and she pretty much set the standard for everything fashionable in the 1800s."

“Of course she did.” Eddie isn’t as keen on history as you and Allison, so he will have to take her word on it. “Night is better. At least to me. So you can have a garden filled with fairy lights.”

"Fairy lights at night sounds perfect." Snuggling into his side at the desk, Allison starts reading the page with a hum. The list is enormous, but there are familiar names on it. Mr. and Mrs. John Brown, Anne Brown, Mr. and Mrs. William Astor, Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt, Mr. and Mrs. Ogden Goelet, Mr. and Mrs. George Wetmore, Mr. and Mrs. William Watts Sherman. The list just goes on and on. "A lot of these are people who eventually had houses here in Newport." Humming softly as her finger skims the page, Allison gasps when she hits two thirds of the way down the page. "Baby, baby, look at this! The bride's name – it's Dolly!"

Eddie’s eyes widen when he sees your name and then he snorts. “Maxium Edward Phillips.” He huffs as he reads the grooms name. “That’s fucking hilarious. Considering his name is just Max. Not short for anything. And his parents didn’t give him a middle name.” He tells Allison. “He hated that he didn’t have a middle name.”

"His parents sound like they suck," Allison huffs in return. She sits back in the chair though, looking between Eddie and the book on the desk in front of her. "That's...fuck, that's our answer. They got married. They had friends. They made a life. They...they must have stayed."

“So…does that mean that they aren’t coming back tomorrow?” Eddie asks, frowning slightly at the idea that he would never see you or Max again.

"That's what he said and I don't know that he would lie about it." Eddie's sire may be enigmatic and highly dramatic, but as far as she knows he's not a liar. He had said that everyone would be reunited at the Samhain ball and they didn't really have any reason to doubt that. It was just trying to find out what had happened to you and Max in the meantime that was so important.

“Interesting.” Eddie hums, and shrugs. “Then we will continue to believe they will show up to the ball.”

"And in the meantime." Reaching for the book once more, Allison pulls it into her lap and leans back in Eddie's arms with a noise that sounds a whole lot like the contented purr of a house cat. "I'm going to read all about their wedding reception."

“Read it aloud, babe.” Eddie sinks his fingers into her hair and starts to massage her scalp lovingly. “I want to know what to make fun of Max for and what we might want to steal.”

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #mysterious inheritance #time travel #witches #vampires #it's the Gilded Age bitches!

[jamminvroomvroom]

a golf swing and a trampoline

LN x fem!reader

read part 2: karma rules!

read part 3: you bring blue lights.

(i have no fucking idea where this gif came from, found it deep in the roll. if it’s urs hmu!!)

this is just angst and smut bc i’m depressed and horny. i really have nothing to add. ngl i’m half super proud of this and half meh so yannoooo we move. lemme know what you think, it is essential to my existence. <33 also fyi the max in this is max fewtrell just to clarify lmao

based on little freak by harry styles. lando is a little freak tbh so i think it’s very fitting. gremlin.

in which lando is a little bit too interested in max’s former fling.

warnings: smut, angst, language, alcohol, max being a prick (not his fault, bless him)

8.6k words (wtf how)

guilt was a funny thing. not the laugh out loud kind, but the peculiar, hole in the pit of your stomach, nail biting kind. lando hated biting his nails. he hated biting his nails, almost as much as he hated himself for telling max that he could bring some random girl that lando had never met to the golfing green with them. he hated that you’d arrived, the other half of max’s latest situationship, and made lando stare. he hated that you had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen and he hated that your golf skirt was so short and he hated that max had met you first.

the hatred evolved. he despised that you were funny, that you let max wrap his arms around you and show you how to swing, that you were so captivating, that his mouth was hanging open the entire fucking afternoon because of how disgustingly perfect you were.

lando had been so incredibly grateful when the eighteenth hole appeared in the distance. he’d never been so excited to leave the green before, but on that particular day, he would have been happy to never play golf again. when he’d shut the door to his mclaren and sped out of the car park, he’d let out a sigh of relief so loud that you and max probably could have heard it if you weren’t staring at each other, rather pathetically lando thought. he probably wouldn’t have found is quite as pathetic had he been the one on the other end of your gaze.

when he’d checked his mirrors and saw you staring after him while max gave you the heart eyes, he’d hoped and prayed that you were a gold digger and that you just fancied yourself a rich boyfriend that could take you out in his friends mclaren.

of course, he was wrong.

-

you and max hadn’t lasted long and lando could breath again. he wasn’t going to go after you, he wouldn’t jump in max’s grave like that, no matter how much he might have wanted to. he was mostly relieved because it meant that you’d be out of his life, gone and forgotten, as quickly as you’d raced into it on a golf buggy on a sunny tuesday afternoon. there was no longer anything to worry about, aside from the fact that max was a bit more hung up on you than he usually got with his flings. lando understood it. he was hung up on you and you were never even his.

life went on, somewhat pleasantly, normally, boringly, until max had the fantastic idea that he wanted to be your friend. it was all part of some master plan to win you back, even though lando quite desperately tried to convince him that there were plenty of other women out there that he could go and annoy, urging his bearded friend to go for a scroll on instagram and reconsider. of course max didn’t listen. you were back in no time, suddenly in lando’s eye-line at every single party, bar, restaurant, golf club, until he gave in to his urges and just let himself look at you properly. he realised how shameful he was; he always gave in so quickly, unable to look away. more often than not, you caught him staring and lando wished he could tell in the dim lighting if you actually were blushing or if the lights were playing tricks on him.

he spent more time than he cared to admit wondering how long it would take until you were back with max. it irked him greatly, pushing every single one of his buttons, gnawing away at him. all of his obsessive thinking made him realise that monaco wasn’t just good for private beaches and tax evasion. at least he didn’t have to see you all the time, and the same went for max. he struggled to look his best mate in the eyes these days.

there was a glimmer of hope one evening in london when he’d overheard max drunkenly putting a move on you as you were all leaving a bar, only to be shot down instantly. you stroked his shoulder as you spoke so carefully.

“just think we’re better as friends, max.” that part of your little speech lando very much enjoyed, but he didn’t like the way his stomach twisted when you’d told max that you weren’t looking for anything at the moment. lando was distracted by his other friends, missing your whisper to max that someone else had caught your eye and it wouldn’t be fair to lead him on like that.

max spent the following weeks praying that you’d fall madly in love with him while lando and the rest of the group tried to agree on a holiday destination for the summer break. greece was looking like a solid option, croatia again was an idea, “why don’t we just go and sit on lando’s private beach in monaco ha ha ha” was even briefly on the table. eventually, when max’s broken heart had healed, he threw himself into the middle of the heated holiday debate and soon enough, a villa was booked in santorini. flights were booked, and lando almost spat his water out when he saw your name flash up on max’s booking confirmation.

“why the fuck is she coming?“ he’d spluttered at max, eyes wide as panic arose in his chest.

“because she’s our friend?“ max explained, as if lando was the stupid one.

“how many times has this girl rejected you now?” lando raised an eyebrow, trying to cover up the fact that he was an unstable mix of devastated and excited by your attendance, whilst also trying to subtly remind max that you simply didn’t want him.

“don’t worry, mate. i’ve got a plan.” max grinned and lando grimaced.

lando wished that he had the luxury of having a plan. he was utterly, utterly fucked. two weeks with you in a confined space? not even god could help him now. he’d just have to do his best to stay completely out of your way, and perhaps even max’s. truthfully, it was quite sad to watch his friend strike out over and over again, not as entertaining to witness as it usually was, even if he did want you all to himself.

and so, lando finished up his first half of the season and made his way to greece. he’d managed to ignore you as politely as he could the entire journey there, giving you nothing but a tight smile when you’d arrived at the airport. he was quite proud of himself for not looking over at you the entire flight, despite feeling like a bit of an asshole, but that wasn’t exactly a new feeling. he watched max talk your ear off as you’d walked through the greek airport, watched the way you laughed at all his jokes and spoke so animatedly with him. it made his jaw clench, fingers drumming rapidly against his suitcase handle in annoyance, picturing the likely scene of you and max rekindling your short lived romance under the sunshine. lando tried to drown your excited voice out, instead focusing on the grating sound of the wheels of his suitcase rolling against the tiled floor.

when he’d reached the taxi that had been hired to take your group to the villa that max had booked, he flopped tiredly against the seat, exhaustion from the last few weeks taking over. he was so drained, physically and emotionally, and truthfully, he was happy to be away from all the noise, even if that meant playing a part in max’s coming of age summer chick flick that he was intent on starring in. as lando’s eyes fluttered shut, he felt someone slide into the seat next to his, and he cracked an eye open to see who it was. of course it was you, life could never be too kind, and you gave him a small wave, flashing him a heart stopping grin. he smiled back, rather awkwardly, and tried to relax with you sat mere centimetres away.

his eyes closed again, this time with force. he felt your leg brush against his, ever so subtly, and jolted upright, wriggling around to try and create some space. when he looked back over at you, ever so slightly turning his head so that you wouldn’t notice, he could have sworn there was a hint of a smirk on your face, a minuscule trace that made him want to kiss you. did you know? surely you couldn’t. but what if you did? he’d be in big trouble.

the top half of your face was covered by your dark sunglasses, which meant that he couldn’t see your eyes, a great shame in his opinion. he’d given up trying to pretend that he wasn’t looking at you, head shamelessly turned all the way to his right to watch you look out the window. he felt at peace, a strange sense of calm washing over him as he took you in. you looked so content, head leant against the glass to take in the view that flashed past before your eyes, that it made lando relax once more.

he didn’t remember falling asleep, but it was one of the better naps he’d had in a while.

-

the lack of motion from the car lulled lando out of his slumber. he was awake, aware, but his eyes were still shut, mostly because he didn’t want to face up to what had turned into a rather awkward run of events. he was slumped to the right, head resting in the crook of someone’s neck, a floral scent attacking every single one of his senses. he could feel soft strands of hair tickling his face and the rise and fall of the persons chest. what concerned him the most, however, was the way his hand was positioned, holding on firmly to a thigh, his fingers stroking slowly over the bare skin. lando stopped breathing at the realisation that not only had he fallen asleep on you, his hands had begun to wander of their own accord.

there was absolutely no way of saving himself, not a single way of getting out of this situation unscathed. he was tempted to jump out of the car and run for his life, but that would only get him so far, and he wasn’t really in the mood to cause a scene. slowly, he opened his eyes, sitting up. he heard you giggle, making him freeze, eyes darting up to meet yours. your lips were so close to his, your faces not even inches apart and for a split second, he imagined what life would be like without max. it was evil but he couldn’t help but wonder, not when he could feel your breath fanning his face.

“are you okay, sleeping beauty?” you whispered. he was obsessed with the way your lips moved.

“um, i’m, um, really sorry.” he swallowed hard, moving slowly to try and back away from your overly inviting face. he didn’t get very far, nose brushing yours as he moved, once again stopping him in his tracks.

“don’t be.” you murmured, voice barely audible, but he could feel the vibration of your words. he was far too close. he darted back, pressing his head against the headrest, staring forward. he let out a shaky breath. he heard the door handle click, watching you swing your legs out first and climb out of the taxi.

“want me to leave this open for you, or are you going for a spin with the taxi driver?” you were smirking at him, apparently very much amused by the sight of him. lando knew exactly what he must have looked like, a shaky, undignified heap that couldn’t keep his hands to himself. he scoffed, springing into action, sliding out of the car until his trainer clad feet hit the floor.

suddenly he was standing over you, hot sun beating down on both of you. he reached for the hem of his hoodie, pulling it over his head quickly, his t-shirt coming with it. when his head emerged from the material, t-shirt still bunched up around his abdomen, it was his turn to be amused. there was no denying it, your eyes were fixed on the small patch of tanned skin, his abs tightening as his stomach jumped in adulation. as quickly as you’d looked, you’d averted your eyes, fixing them back on his. you decided to smile, seemingly unfazed despite being caught.

“come on lando, everyone else is already inside. your beauty sleep is really eating into this trip.” you teased.

“i think that’s the second time you’ve called me beautiful today, love.” he didn’t know where he’d found the confidence to reply in such a way, but it was totally worth it when he heard you laugh. love.

“do you like being called beautiful, norris? do we have something to unpack here? is it ego?” you deadpanned, joking back, again totally unfazed. he picked up your bag effortlessly, as well as his own, and the both of you walked towards the white stone villa.

“maybe i like it when you do it.” he hoped that his voice signified that he was joking, and not that he was pathetically infatuated with you.

“i’ll keep that in mind.” you winked. you both laughed, making your way up the marble steps to the front door, which suddenly swung open. max was stood at the threshold, a smile on his face that lando knew to be fake.

“there you both are.” he reached out to lando, who quickly realised that max wanted your bag.

“yeah, sorry. someone was in quite a deep sleep.” either you didn’t know that max’s smile was completely false or you simply didn’t care, continuing to give lando that small, flirty smile that left him with butterflies.

when lando looked back at max, still waiting for your bag with his hand outstretched, eyes flickering between you and lando suspiciously, the butterflies died and turned into knots. the last thing lando needed was for max to find out about his silly little feelings.

lando knew that he should have given your bag over to max. you were his guest, his… well lando didn’t really know what you were. but he knew that the bag was more than a bag. it was a symbol, a piece of you, and when lando stepped around max, taking it with him, he knew that he might have just accidentally declared war. lando walked through the door, and into the hallway, eyeing up the large staircase that led to the bedrooms. he didn’t look back, climbing the extravagant staircase, leaving your bag at the top, a flag on the top of the mountain. but lando had not conquered you. he didn’t want to. conquer seemed like a dirty word where you were concerned. you were not a conquest, you were magnificent, you were sunlight.

he didn’t want to get into some kind of pissing contest with max over you. that was degrading, childish. you were not a prize to be won, nor did he want to win you. he thought about this as he searched for an empty room, replaying the moment he’d woken up over and over and over in his head. the soft rise and fall of your chest, the ends of your hair tickling his nose, the soft skin of your thigh under his firm touch.

the things he wanted to do to you.

it was embarrassing to be so caught up in a single touch, as if he was a teenager again, but you just felt so good in his hands. and then your wit? the rapid way that your mind worked, teasing him, winding him up so skilfully? that delicate point of view of yours that left him dizzy? he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

he sauntered into one of the bedrooms, leaving the door open and slinging his suitcase onto the bed, starting to lazily unpack his stuff. as he was hanging up a shirt, the light pink one that reminded him of a wild night with pierre gasly, he caught sight of a figure in his peripheral vision, leaning against the doorframe. he turned to face you, quirking an eyebrow at the sight of you.

“domestic goddess looks good on you, lando. don’t think i’ve ever seen a guy hang up clothes before, so forgive me for staring.” he was quite honestly obsessed with you and the way your voice sounded when you were blatantly making fun of him. he floundered embarrassingly for a response, not knowing what to say back to match your banter. you beat him to it anyway. “looks like we’re neighbours.” you smiled, taking your weight off of the doorframe, padding down the hallway to the room next door.

“did you know this place has a trampoline?” he heard you exclaim in disbelief and excitement as you were walking down the hall. he did know, and hadn’t really been bothered much by the information, but hearing the simple joy in your voice made him do a one eighty. suddenly, trampolines were the best thing in the world and he laughed quietly to himself, so glad that you couldn’t see the stupid, lovesick smile on his face.

-

a few days has passed, and lando had managed to force himself to relax. of course it was difficult, given that max found a way to put his hands on you when he knew lando was watching. lando wouldn’t play ball, wouldn’t let this become some kind of unspoken contest, because he respected you. not to say that max didn’t, but he was still trying desperately to pursue you, despite not getting anywhere at all. it all seemed to boil over a little bit over dinner one evening.

the air was hot, feeling as if it was getting heavier by the second. lando had a headache, probably made worse by the beer stood on the table next to his plate. he considered going back onto the ginger ale. he’d been quiet all evening, stewing in annoyance as he listening to max go on and on and on about taking you to this little restaurant him and a few of the others had found earlier that day. you’d been at the villa all day, along with lando and the remaining members of the friend group, lounging by the pool. lando had felt proud of himself that he’d decided to stay before you had, and that you hadn’t swayed his decision. he felt a bit less of that pride when he wondered, or, more accurately, prayed, that he’d swayed yours.

all throughout the dinner, max had droned on and on while you sipped your red wine and lando simply couldn’t take it. he wanted to take you to a tiny restaurant, he wanted to show you the sights, he wanted to be sat next to you, not so subtly whispering sweet nothings in your ear. he wanted max to shut the fuck up, or to simply leave. it was awful, but he’d gotten used to being awful. he felt petty and angry and fed up, and that’s why he let his hand slip, the tall beer glass crashing down onto the table, conveniently splashing all over max, covering him.

max shot up out his seat, and lando sat their motionless, slightly shocked with himself. he hoped that no one noticed that it was absolutely on purpose, turning around suddenly to throw a sorry over his shoulder to max, who was making his way inside, an apology that he didn’t at all mean. he’d gotten his wish; max was gone and you were sat on the other side of the empty chair that max had abandoned, staring at lando.

“‘m gonna get something to clear this up.” lando muttered, trudging from the outdoor table towards the glass doors that would take him into the kitchen. as he was picking up the kitchen roll, he heard the door open and close again behind him. he sighed, knowing exactly who it was that had joined him.

“why did you do that?” you asked simply. you didn’t sound amused, or irritated, or anything really. you sounded genuine, as if you really wanted to know the answer.

“do what?” lando decided to play dumb, not feeling like admitting just how pathetic he really was.

“lando, i saw you waste a perfectly good beer. if you didn’t want it, i would have happily drank it.” you made your usual jokes but for once lando didn’t want to hear it.

“he was getting on my nerves.” lando still hadn’t turned around to face you, instead he busied himself, fiddling with the paper towels in his hand.

“why?” one of your hands rose to sit on your hip, almost accusingly.

“i feel like you’re interviewing me.” lando scoffed, trying to make light of the situation.

“well i feel like you should be honest with me.” was your rebuttal.

“i can’t.” his voice was quiet, timid, a little bit stressed.

“why?”

“stop asking me ‘why’.” he was flustered.

“stop avoiding my questions.”

“you know, i see the way you look at me. i think you know the answers to your own questions. so just stop. i can’t say anything else. you know i can’t. so just stop. with the looks and the jokes and the flirting. stop.” he didn’t know what had come over him, and when he heard you let out a shaky breath behind him, he knew that you didn’t either.

“do you really want me to?” your voice was soft, and your words knocked the air out of him.

“i need you to.” he responded desperately.

“that’s not the same thing.” you pressed on.

when he didn’t respond, or move, or breathe, you sighed. you let yourself out of the kitchen and rejoined the rest of the group. lando suddenly felt claustrophobic in the giant kitchen, the kitchen roll feeling too heavy in his hands. he held the weight of his mistake in his hands, of wanting max out of his way and wanting you all to himself. he abandoned the kitchen roll, tossing it back onto the side and made a beeline for his bedroom, completely blanking max who was on his way back outside, adorning a clean, dry shirt.

“mate?” he heard max call out to him, when he was halfway up the stairs.

“not feeling good.” lando mumbled, not even sure that max had heard him, but he knew that his friend must have heard the way his door slammed, hitting the wood of its frame with force.

lando let out a frustrated groan, throwing himself down onto the bed. he laid perfectly still, flat on his back, glaring at the ceiling, as if he was mad at it, rather than himself. he’d made his bed, and he’d have to lay in it, no pun intended as he fisted the material of his bedding, cool against his flushed skin.

what did you want from him? did you really feel anything for him at all? did you really want to keep playing such a dangerous game? max was right there, longing for you openly, but you wanted him instead?

lando wondered what he could have possibly done to be so unlucky. the girl of his dreams, stood right behind him, egging him on to admit his sad little feelings for her, while his friend, her former boyfriend, was upstairs changing a shirt that lando had stained? it was practically laughable, and definitely fucked up.

lando didn’t really know how much time had passed. he heard everyone trail back to their rooms eventually, wondering what time it was for them to all have retired to bed. he felt choked by the still, humid air of the room he’d imprisoned himself in, gasping for breath all of the sudden as he sat upright. he tugged off his shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the floor, a crumpled mess, unlike the ones that hung pristinely in the wardrobe. the lack of material did nothing to help him. he need to move, he needed fresh air, he needed clarity. as quietly as he could, he tiptoed out of his room, trying to make sure that he shut the door behind him carefully. he spared your door a glance, noticing the lack of light spilling underneath it.

once he was downstairs, he was a little bit less careful, no longer so worried about being silent. he let himself out of the back door in the kitchen, glancing at the abandoned dining table on the patio, since cleared up after dinners antics. there wasn’t a trace of the evenings events, aside from someone’s jumper, a half empty ashtray and a can of beer tucked under a chair.

he carried on walking, making his way further down the garden. he stopped briefly next to the pool, the clear water now overcast with shadows from the dark night. there were little pools of light breaking out across the surface, a symptom of the fairy lights that hung over the tall fences, keeping the world out. he thought about you, for a fleeting second, how majestic you’d looked getting out of that very water, droplets skimming your body and falling away to the ground. you’d eyed him, tempting him into the cool water as you’d wrapped yourself in a towel, leaving him sweating on the sun lounger all of the sudden. you were cruel. he hated you. he didn’t.

lando turned away from the swimming pool, casting his gaze further down the garden to the trampoline. it sat surrounded by the grass, built into the layout of the garden. he walked towards it, bare feet hitting the cool blades of grass as he moved. once he reached his destination, he walked onto the centre of it, jumping lightly once or twice before throwing himself down on his back. the springs creaked quietly under his weight, body relaxing. lando stared up at the sky, eyes focusing on the twinkling stars that lit up the dark sky. it was oddly therapeutic.

he must have been out there for a while when he heard footsteps approaching. lando didn’t even look up, didn’t even bother to check and see who would be joining him. he just carried on gazing at the starry sky, picturing your eyes.

“you do know trampolines are for jumping on, right? weren’t exactly built for existential crisis.” your voice broke the delicate silence. he didn’t look over to where you stood, just kept staring at the sky.

“seems to be working fine for me right about now.” lando quipped, not really in the mood for your banter. it ached too much, and after your little discussion, more like interrogation, in the kitchen, lando just didn’t have the energy. you hummed in response, flopping onto your back next to him.

“what’s keeping you awake so late, huh?” you asked quietly.

“you know, stuff.”

“wow. ‘stuff’. are you sure you feel okay revealing so much about yourself to me?” you teased, turning your head so that you were facing him.

“you’re not funny.” he turned to face you, struggling to hide his smile that dared to break through the front he’d tried to hard to put up.

“actually, i’m hilarious.”

“you’re killing me.” he’d meant it as a joke. it wasn’t a joke.

“i’m sorry.” you really were.

“it’s too late for sorry. but i guess i’m sorry too.” lando sounded so deflated. the sad smile on your lips devastated him.

“you don’t need to be, lando.”

“he’s my best friend.” he shared the weight on his shoulders with you, the elephant in the room finally taking centre stage.

“and i made it clear i wasn’t interested in him.” you were so matter of fact, but you both knew that it wasn’t that simple.

“and yet here you are.”

“not for max.” your words hit him straight in the stomach, ricocheting off his heart.

“what?”

“he’s a friend. i care about him. but it’s not like that.”

“was it ever?”

“could have been. but then this other idiot caught my eye and i couldn’t live a lie. me and max are done.” your voice was barely above a whisper but you spoke with so much conviction, he couldn’t do anything but stare at you.

lando didn’t get a chance to reply because you were hauling yourself up until you were back on your feet. you stuck your hand out for lando, and he eyed it, still trying to process what you’d just said.

“c’mon lando. jump with me.” you looked at him expectantly, that signature small smile on your face that he physically couldn’t say no to.

he took your hand, the butterflies in his stomach alive and well, and he stood up. once he was on his feet, facing you, you took his other hand. you bounced lightly a few times, until you were both propelling yourself into the air, trying to jump as high as you could. you were both laughing, breathless, enjoying the rush of air that encapsulated you in this bubble. you both landed back onto the springy sheet, giggling. lando’s arms went around you to steady you, your hands gripping his forearms as you caught your breath. your fingers stroked across his veins and he shivered, snapped back to reality. you were grinning up at him, so fucking beautiful, he thought. your grip on him tightened and he came to his senses.

“we should go back inside.” he whispered. “it’s getting late.”

“was that a line?” you raised an eyebrow, teasing him with another smirk.

“what? no!” he blurted out, blushing slightly as he realised what he’d said. you were laughing at him and he couldn’t stop himself from joining in.

you began walking back through the garden, following the pathway. you made your way to the pool, stopping briefly for a second to watch the lights dance across the water, just as lando had earlier. he stopped alongside you at the waters edge.

“hey, lando?”

“hmm?“

“you’re looking a little bit flushed.” you turned to him slowly, mischievous glint in your eyes as they not do subtly trailed down his bare chest. uh oh. he blinked once, twice, knowing exactly where this was going but his body hadn’t caught up with his brain, something he’d gotten used to in your presence.

he was under the water before he could blink a third time.

lando swam up to the top of the water, breaking through the surface. the first thing he heard was your hysterical laughter, and as soon as he’d wiped the chlorine laced water from his eyes, he could see you, doubled over and shaking. there were little crinkles by your eyes and your smile was so wide that it must of hurt. it went straight to his heart, a gentle pang that reminded him that he was alive. he would have gotten out of the pool and let you push him in as many times as you wanted, as many times as it would satisfy you. he would have done absolutely anything, anything, to have you laughing like that for him. all for him.

“are you happy now?” lando pouted, pushing his matted curls out of his face. you were semi-calm by now, still giggling away.

“very. you look a bit better now.” you replied, a little bit breathless from all of your laughing.

“are you gonna help me get out?” lando asked, plan forming in his head. this would probably be his only opportunity to get you wet, he figured he should probably take it.

“do you really think i’m gonna fall for that?” you asked, as if he was stupid, which he definitely was.

“fall for what? c’mon, i’m cold and it’s all your fault.” he whined playfully, sticking his hand out for you to take. you looked down at him, suspicious, but for whatever reason, you took his hand, leaning your weight backwards, as if to anchor yourself in case he did exactly what he was planning on doing.

“okay, fine. but if you pull me in, i swear to god, i’ll-” you were cut off by your own yelp as you flew threw the air and landed in the cold water. you swam to the surface, just as he had done, hand still holding his tightly. you broke the surface, face inches away from his, a scowl taking over your features. he felt no sympathy, because that glint in your eye, the one that he’d become so accustomed to, was still very much there. you were loving every second of this, almost as much as he was.

“you’ll what?” lando smirked, wondering if the ball was finally in his court.

you didn’t reply, all you did was send a small tidal wave his way, thrashing the hand that wasn’t in his grip until he was hit with a wall of water. it sent his hair back into his eyes, and he was operating blind, using his free hand to try and fight back. you stayed there for a while, giggling as you declared war on one another, sending pool water flying every which way. he never let go of your hand and you never let go of his, neither of you made any attempt to, the both of you moving together through the water.

eventually, lando decided enough was enough. you were winning and he was a sore loser. he tugged on your hand, gliding you towards him, capturing your other hand in his, lacing your fingers. it felt so natural that it scared him, terrified him even. touching you felt like the most normal thing in the world and that was panic inducing. it wasn’t supposed to be like this, was it? he wondered how much more fight he had in him, how much longer he’d be able to resist you, because in that moment, the odds were not looking good. it didn’t matter how often he thought of max, didn’t matter that his best friend was still trying his luck with you, lando was beyond caring. almost.

the both of you floated there, bobbing together in the water. your thumbs stroked the backs of his hands, and you seemed to be getting closer and closer, until the gap was so nonexistent that lando could feel your breath fanning his face.

“can i tell you something?” you whispered.

“please.” he breathed.

“it’s a bit horrible.” your eyebrows furrowed, voice still so quiet that lando wondered if he was imagining all of this.

“i can take it.” that was a lie, he definitely didn’t know if he could take it. god knows what you were going to say.

“wish i’d met you first.” you mumbled, your lips barely centimetres from his.

lando wanted to cry. he probably could have. he stayed there, motionless in the water. your body was practically pressed against his and it would have been so, so incredibly easy to close that minuscule gap and just do what he’d wanted to do since the second he’d met you, but the consequences would have been so ghastly, so dreadful. maybe, you would have been his, but would the possibility of that outweigh the certainty of losing max? his best friend? his closest confidant, one of the very few people in this world that understood him?

lando’s hesitancy to kiss you made you drop one of his hands. he panicked, thinking he’d blown it, but then he felt your hand on his face, caressing the damp skin, and it felt like pure magic. his eyes were shut, shut so tightly that he wondered how long they’d been closed, so lost in the feel of you against him that he’d completely zoned out, lost in his own head. his eyes opened the second he felt your nails raking softly through his hair, making him shiver as you combed the mess of wet curls with your fingers. his eyes had snapped to yours immediately, searching them desperately. he longed to know exactly what was going through your head, because maybe it would help to organise the mess of thoughts in his.

“i get it, y’know. i get why we can’t do this. just wanna look at you for a while.” you murmured, as if it was the most mundane thing in the world and you hadn’t just set his entire body on fire with three sentences.

“you’re so fucking beautiful.” lando gasped, finally remembering that he could speak and that this was his only chance to make sure that you knew. “everything about you. everything.”

you smiled, and as it reached your eyes, he could see that it wasn’t a happy smile. it wasn’t the kind of giddy, happy go lucky smile that you can’t control, because you’re falling in love. it was the kind of smile that you give because you have to. the kind of smile that you give someone when you’re watching them leave, as you’re saying goodbye, one that makes your eyes melt into your cheeks as tears fall and everything gets a little bit hazy. it made lando want to die.

he was still so close, but just too far. too fucking far. that fire that you’d set with your words was burning out quickly and he was suddenly so cold, filled with an ache that he didn’t think could ever possibly go away.

“come on.” he whispered, pulling you towards the steps that led you out of the water, back on to solid ground, where everything would go back to normal and all of this would melt away into nothing again.

you were both dripping wet, clothes soaked through, hair a sopping mess. your hand was still in his, as if you were both refusing to let go, which you were. lando sure as hell wouldn’t be the one to break away first. he needed to savour every second. you both tiptoed solemnly through the dark house, reaching the top of the staircase. the closer you got to your rooms, the louder lando’s thoughts got.

he didn’t want to say goodbye. he didn’t want to let you go and he didn’t want to watch max try and fail over and over. he didn’t want to only tell you once that you were beautiful, he wanted to tell you every day. he didn’t want you to feel guilty, or horrible, he wanted you to feel loved.

lando stopped, halfway down the corridor, tugging on your hand until you turned around, suddenly pulled into his embrace. he searched your eyes for any hesitancy, but your hands were already cupping his face, pulling him down. he met you halfway, kissing you so urgently, finally. your lips moved with his, frantic, his hands everywhere, your hands back in his hair, tugging and desperate. it was messy and perfect and soft and warm and you were moaning as his hands wandered of their own accord, quiet whimpers getting swallowed as your tongue brushed with his.

you both grew needier and needier and lando found himself pressing you into the nearest wall, the plaster panel that separated your bedroom doors. the feel of your hands on him slowed lando right down, bringing him right back into the moment, as they slid out of his wet hair and down his neck. your fingers grazed his collarbone as they moved further down his body, a shiver running down his spine. your hands flattened against the damp skin of his bare chest, feeling the warmth that you’d created, your right hand resting over where his heart was beating uncontrollably.

“lando,” you mumbled against his lips that tried to chase after yours as you pulled back slightly. his eyes fluttered open, meeting your soft ones, seduction swirling in the different hues. “please.”

“what?” he breathed, scared to know what you were asking for. he had a vague idea but he needed to know more, before his mind exploded.

“i know we shouldn’t,” your hands crept back up his chest, sliding over his shoulders and around his neck, tugging on his hair lightly as you spoke. he couldn’t help the dull groan he let out. “and i know it can’t go any further,” lando frowned at your words, agreeing with you, but it stung nonetheless. “but tonight… please.”

your words hung heavy in the air. lando didn’t know what to say to you. you were literally a dream, right before his eyes, but you’d just told him that you wouldn’t be a reoccurring one. he didn’t know how to feel about that. all he knew was that he couldn’t deny you, couldn’t pass up the one chance that you’d both have. one time, and then it was over.

he decided against a verbal response, slotting his lips back against yours, a slow, deep kiss that told you that he was on board. he pulled you away from the wall, walking you backwards down the hallway until you were positioned between him and your bedroom door, his hand leaving your waist to open the door quickly. the door shut behind you both, perhaps a bit too loudly, but it was too late to care. you guided him across the floor, past your now empty suitcase tucked away in the corner, until you were at the foot of your bed.

you turned the pair of you around, pushing lando to sit down on the bed, stepping between his legs. his hands trailed lazily over your waist and down your outer thighs, eyes locked as he stared up at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky. if someone told him that you had, he’d believe them. your fingers gripped at the hem of your shirt, and slowly, you pulled it off, revealing yourself to him. you were left in your bra and a pair of shorts, goosebumps littering your skin, still cold from your wet clothes. he was more than happy to warm you up.

lando pulled you down onto his lap, hands hooking around the backs of your thighs to lower you down on top of him. your knees slotted either side of him, straddling him, an experimental roll of your hips making him suck in a breath. while one of his hands toyed with the band of your shorts, the other snuck up your body, tangling in your hair. he pulled you down, crashing your lips against his.

he could feel himself getting harder and harder as you carried on your movements, grinding against him slowly. you pulled your lips off of his, foreheads pressed together. the hand in your hair dropped down, skimming across your shoulder blade until he reached the clasp of your bra, fiddling with it until he heard a faint snap. the lace slipped down your arms, hanging loosely in the space between you. you caught your bottom lip between your teeth, gasping as the hand on your back trailed over the bare skin, around your side and across your ribcage.

“touch me.” you whispered, something snapping within you both that changed everything, the urgency of the situation completely taking a hold. his lips peppered kisses across your chest, never detaching them as he flipped you over and onto your back. he situated himself between your legs, already spread open for him, and carried on, swirling his tongue across the skin. he caught one of your nipples in his mouth, hips pinning you down when you bucked yours up into his.

lando could feel you warming up, replacing the cold that had caught you outside. he covered your entire body with his, desperately trying to get as close to you, feel as much of you as possible. he could feel one of your hands running down his side, stroking his tanned skin as it travelled closer and closer to the waistband of his shorts. your fingers dipped into the waistband, bypassing his boxers. he froze, vision blurry for a second as he tried to ground himself at the feel of your fingertips dancing across the sensitive skin below his hipbones.

your hand went further, pushing the material covering his lower half out of your way, hand wrapping around his cock. his eyes rolled back and it took everything within him not to collapse on top of you. you gave him a gentle squeeze, moaning quietly at the weight of him in your hand and he almost lost it then and there, slowly losing all of his willpower as your hand began to work up and down his length. he refocused his vision, wild eyes fixating on the way you were watching his face, your own only a few centimetres beneath his. you licked your lips and he groaned, kissing you fiercely.

as soon as you sped up, he knew he had to put an end to your actions, because he was teetering on the edge, dangerously close to an orgasm already. lando was hardly to blame, you looked angelic beneath him, innocent eyes contrasting your devilish grin. heavenly.

lando slapped your hand away, springing into action, aching, quite literally to please you. after all, he only had one chance, and he had to make it count. your head fell back as he kissed down the valley of your breasts, a sigh of contentment leaving your swollen lips as he left open mouthed kisses across your stomach. your shorts were gone in a flash, panties admired briefly before they quickly followed. he was in no mood to tease, this time was too precious, too sacred to waste on games. this was anything but a game. his kisses continued, down your outer thigh and back up again, tongue making an appearance to lick the crease where your thigh met your body.

he paused momentarily, looking up at you from between your legs, admiring a view that he wouldn’t ever see again. you were watching him through lustful eyes; there was something else there, too, but lando didn’t think he had the strength to try and unpack it. it would hurt too much afterwards. his arms wrapped around your legs like vines, holding you in place, keeping you spread for him. you propped yourself up on your elbows, daring him to give you more, watching on in anticipation as he closed the gap. his tongue worked up the seam of your pussy, licking into your wet heat. the moan you’d let out was like music to his ears, the best song he’d ever heard, and he wanted to hear it again and again.

lando sped up, working his tongue faster against your cunt, mouth wrapping around your clit. you collapsed back into the mattress, arms giving out as he dipped his tongue into your entrance. he wouldn’t have ever gotten sick of this, the way you tasted, felt, pulled at his hair.

“yes, please, more.” you gasped out, when you’d felt his fingers trailing up your thigh, closer and closer to where you needed them. he trailed a digit through your messy folds, getting it nice and wet, before he slipped it inside of you, mind blank as he felt how tight you were. he slipped a second finger in, thrusting them slowly, stretching you out. he could feel you clenching, attaching his mouth to your clit once more. he needed to get you there, the animalistic urge to make you cum for him so overwhelming. and when he did, tongue flicking through your folds, fingers buried inside of you, he could have died happy. you were godly, shaking and whining above him, hand threading unapologetically through his hair.

when he’d crawled back up your body, fingers licked clean, you’d pulled him down on top of you instantly, legs wrapping around his waist. you were so warm, finally, pressed against him completely in the most delicious way. it was like finding the last piece of the puzzle and putting it in its place, where it was always supposed to be. your lips were back on his, frantic as you licked into his mouth, definitely tasting yourself on his tongue. your eagerness to be made his for the evening had him twitching for you; it felt good to be so wanted by the one he wanted the most.

when he finally pushed inside of you, everything melted away. it seemed cliché, lando thought, to suddenly be encapsulated in the state in which he found himself, one where time stood still and you were everything, everywhere. he didn’t quite understand it, it had never felt like this before, and as he set his pace, slow, but unrelenting, he started to understand why. he came to the realisation, as you kissed him so sweetly, that there was one person for him. one person that truly made him feel. he wondered if he’d ever be able to feel anything ever again. if he did, it wouldn’t compare to this. every single future interaction for the rest of his life was doomed, everyone would pale in comparison to you.

lando was well and truly ruined.

his hips hit yours, the drag of him in and out of you making you whimper, over and over and over again. it felt unbearably good, the knot in his stomach tightening rapidly. you cried out his name as you let yourself go, covering him and sending him hurtling towards his own orgasm. he tried to take it all in, the sight of you, before he collapsed down on top of you, head resting in the crook of your neck. your legs were tangled with his, your right hand intertwined with his left, resting at the side of your head.

“it should have been me.” lando whispered, and it was earth shattering. the most real thing he’d said to you all evening. the most truthful, heartbreaking, soul-baring thing he’d probably ever said in his life. it should have been him, but it wasn’t, and that’s just the way it was. max found you first, the lucky bastard, and nothing would ever be okay again.

“i know.” was your simple reply.

he fell asleep in your arms, and you fell asleep in his, clinging on tight to a dream that was hurtling to an end.

-

when he’d woken up next to you, he knew he had to leave. lando knew that if you woke up and he saw those pretty, pretty eyes, he would have stayed and the consequences of that were unimaginable. it already hurt enough knowing that this was over before it had even started, the least he could do was save you the trouble of having to watch him leave.

he detangled himself from you, as gently as he could, and watched you get comfortable in your slumber while he got dressed as quickly and as quietly as possible. he brushed some stray hairs away from your peaceful face, a lingering kiss on the temple being the only thing that he could leave behind. he crept out of your room, slowly shutting the door behind him, and turned on his heel to scurry back to his room and pretend that’s where he’d been all night.

he didn’t get very far.

a figure stood at the other end of the hallway, face drenched in disbelief.

lando was frozen in place. he couldn’t speak, not knowing what you were even supposed to say in a situation like this. the blood rushing to his head made it feel like everything was happening in slow motion. he felt hot, sick, stomach twisting as he watched max’s eyebrows furrow, his jaw clench, nostrils flare.

rage, disappointment, a hint of sadness. max was feeling it all and lando watched in horror as the emotions unfolded on his best friends face. it was too early in the morning for there to have been an excuse.

lando had been caught.

the funny thing, not the laugh out loud kind, but the peculiar, hole in the pit of your stomach, nail biting kind, was that max didn’t understand that it was already over, and he was the only reason why.

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppetangelika @wmaximoffz @starlightoctavia @japanesekel @stardustinggold @vinvantae @chaoticallypan @ashleyo1611 @ggaslyp1 @poofy-baby-unicorns @dr3lover @smiithys  @turningxstrange @lees0015 @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @1missglum1 @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @shinydragondelusion @alexk2002 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @f-1-fan @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles

(as always, taglist is so broken n such a mess lmao. if u wanna be added or removed hmu <33)

#lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris oneshot #lando norris imagine #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 angst #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 imagine

[thebunnednun]

Buggy the Clown x Fem!Reader Enchanted meeting (Part 1)

Authors Note:

Hello everyone!! This is my first time writing so please tell me what you think! I'm sure we've all seen the live-action one-piece. And I've taken a strong liking to a certain clown. Please enjoy as I spin this tale. There's a good deal of flirting, banter, and much more. Definitely going to be a slow-burn fic. If anyone is a little out of character I do apologize. Btw, this is not set in a specific arc but the straw hat crew is included as follows: #MonekeyD.LUffy #RoronaZoro #Nami #Usopp #Sanji #TonyTonyChopper #NicoRobin #Brook #Sanji

Anyway, on with the show!!~

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Context:

"FUCK!"

Screams and cursing erupted everywhere. As far as safety was concerned, there was none. Who knew that going into the forbidden tundra of ice and snow for ice cream would be such a bad idea?

It didn't matter now anyway. The wind whipped at your cheeks as a pair of familiar gummy arms stretched around the crew. There was no ability to see five feet in front of you. After much pushing and shoving the steering wheel was turned and the Thousand Sunny began to fight back.

Finally, with mercy, the storm had to spit you and your crewmates out. Where? No clue. None. The feeling of sand and splintered wood accompanied you all before the darkness followed.

---------------------------------------------------- Current time-----------

"Y/n?!" a voice called out. Opening your eyes hurts like hell. The sun was too bright. And the sand was too cold. Wait... sand?!

Rolling over onto your back the sun's sharp rays began to bore their way into you. Suddenly, a fluff clown covers you. "Y/N!! YOU'RE ALIVE!" Luffy, the sweet goof that he is, crushes you in a tight hug cutting off your oxygen

"Alright, give the girl some space," Nami pulls at the arm closest to her. "What the fuck, happened?" You sit up slowly. "Well-" "THE FUCKING SHIP BROKE!" Heads turn towards a sobbing Usopp trying to rub two pieces of wood together as Sanji comfortingly pats his shoulder. Not too far away, Zoro stands quietly looking over the horizon. A sigh escapes your lips as you deflate into Nami's arms. This could not get any worse. Until a thought hits you.

"Wait, where are the others?" you begin to sit up and look at Nami again. "Robin and Chopper are trying to salvage what they can. Brook got buried under the sand for a while so he's resting." You nod and try to take it all in. So far everyone was alive and counted on. But where were you? Climbing out of Nami and Luffy's company you decided to have a look around. Items were thrown about the beach everywhere including large piles of ice and snow making for a strange scene.  

There’s a moment of uncomfortability that you register but don’t address. Silence never bothered you, but one thing was for certain. You and your family were stranded, highly wanted criminals, with no proper way of fixing the ship unless there wasn’t that much damage. Your feet stop as you come across the sight before you. “Shit.” 

Half the fucking ship was missing. Well, to be exact the giant ram's head was half buried in the snow. The middle of the left-hand side of the haul was cracked open with continents spilling out. As you got closer you could see Robin and Chopper creating piles of things salvageable. A little bit past them lay Brooks looking more lifeless than you’d ever seen him. 

Robin’s eyes caught yours and she waved you over. Watching out for glass and wood you made your way to the haul and placed a hand on the still damp wood. How could everything have changed so quickly? One moment you were all enjoying a frozen treat. The next, holding on for dear life as the elements took their wrath out on you for trespassing. Seeming to read your mind Chopper tugged Robin's leg. 

 “No need to worry,” Robin said as she pressed a compass into the empty palm of your hand. “I think I know what island we’re on. It’s very secluded on this side so we should be fine. However, the other half holds a very populated town known for carpentry. We just might be saved.” Well, that was the first good news all morning. Zoro had been voted to go with you and pick up some supplies. Also so that he didn’t get lost and have the crew spend 14 years to find him. But the walk was pleasant and you took turns humming different toons until you got to the outskirts of town. 

The sound of laughter could be heard as some decorations and flags waved in the air. Seemed like a festival was taking place. Perfect! With all the chaos no one could possibly recognize you both. Zoro managed to find materials needed for the ship while you gathered more basic supplies. However, something about the crowd drew you in. Zoro would be busy for a while so might as well look around,... right? 

The middle of the market square was filled with bright colors, noises, and various performers. You made sure to stick to the walls of the town. However, the cheers and yells for more soon had you stepping closer until you found yourself in the middle circle of a performance act. A slightly chubby man who resembled a sheep was fighting with a pink lion and a green-haired man.

While the act was obviously for kids. You couldn’t help but smile as the three began to fight until a man with blue glasses and a strange ponytail ushered them to stop. He whispered something to them and the expressions of fear were almost completely masked. Then as if the fun had been sucked away, they began to bow and pass out folders. You reached forward to receive one from the lion, thanked him, and began to retreat to where you had last seen Zoro. “Well?”

You held out the flier, “We could kill some time tonight?”

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

Author's note: This was Chapter 1! Sorry if it's a bit short. Don't worry though. I have more planned. Please share and like my post so I know to continue with this. Also, just as a nice little tidbit.

I am downbad for this clown.

Part 2

Like they didn't have to make the live action cast so hot. (Yes, yes the fuck they did.) Now, I found him funny in the anime. But, live action? DAMNNNNNN!!!! I think his eyes are so fucking pretty. His jaw and neck look like they need some special attention. Cheekbones? Biteable. Like I DEMAND to see more of this man. Oh, btw, reader gets very flirty and sassy as the story goes on.

#opla buggy x reader #buggy x reader #Buggy (One Piece) #YouBuggy/Reader #Buggy/F!Reader #Buggy/Younger Reader #LA Buggy #ReaderBuggy/Y/n #One Piece (Live Action TV 2023) #One Piece (Anime & Manga) #slow burn #friends to lovers #mutual pining #pining #reader insert #self insert #buggy the clown #one piece #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #one piece zoro #one piece nami #nico robin #tony tony chopper #usopp #brooks #flirting #sexypirates #captain buggy #eventual smut

[earthbaby-angelboy]

Imagine what happens if you, say, skin your knee while you're little and playing around the Chautauqua fairgrounds; you come running up to Walter just crying that you've got a boo-boo.

too much of a good thing | little!reader x cg!walter hale (wc: 1,004) - A/N: i was thinking of doing headcannons, but this idea is so cute that it deserves a full fic. with that, i'm going to start calling his little one "adne." it'll make my writing a bit less ambiguous/confusing. enjoy!

It was a hot and sunny morning, so you'd spent most of the day helping Charlene with small tasks, while Walter was nowhere to be seen. As the sun went down, the only illumination on the camping grounds were the small lamps and string-lights some of the performers had pitched up earlier. You began to worry. It was getting dark; where was your daddy? You and Charlene sat in the music tent, with her behind the piano and you sitting on a chair near the bottom of the stage.

"Leenie?" You asked, looking up at her. "Yeeeeees?" Charlene responded in a sing-song voice, while reviewing sheet music for tomorrow night's performance. "Where's dada? Haven't seen him all day."

Without missing a beat or looking away from the information in front of her, she responded "I haven't seen Hale- your daddy, either. I know he's very busy, but I'm sure he'll be done soon."

A small frown appeared on your face, and you murmured, "that's not fair."

Charlene tried not to let out a huff. "I know, honey, but your daddy is a grown-up and needs to do his job, so he can keep paying for all your plushes and pretty little dresses. You wouldn't want to go without those, would you?" She gave you a pointed look that had a playful air to it. You shook your head with a small smile. "No, wouldn' wanna go without those."

Propping a hand under your chin, you began to think. What could you do while waiting for Walter to get back? A few minutes of thinking later, and a lightbulb went off in your head. "Leenie, 's it okay if I go n' catch lightnin' bugs? That way, I can have a jar full of em' for dada when he gets back!" You asked excitedly.

Charlene sighed and finally tore her eyes away from the papers. She looked at you, practically bouncing with excitement at the idea of doing something to appease your daddy. She sighed, and gave in. "You know, honey? I think I've done enough work for today. Let's go catch some of those lil' buggies."

Getting down from her seat on the stage, she took your hand, and walked you out to the middle of the Chautauqua, near Walter's tent. As soon as you saw the little bugs, you took off in a run! The actual objective of catching some had flown out of your head as soon as you saw the beautiful iridescence they provided to the plain atmosphere.

"You better be careful, young lady! We don't need you getting any bruises," Charlene called after you. You giggled and continued to run around the grounds, hopping over the tent stakes and being careful of any rocks. As you continued to play, you became more tired, and a bit more clumsy. Charlene had noticed, but she too was now worrying about where Hale had went. Before she could even think of where to look, she heard a commotion from a tent halfway across the camp. She couldn't make out any of the voices or what they were saying, but she knew that it was bound to get rowdy.

Wanting to get you out of harms way, she called, "Adne, how about we come inside now?"

At the same time, Walter emerged from the tent the commotion was coming from. He was clearly agitated, with some of the performers in his face, shouting things that Charlene couldn't make out. Something about "cutting wages" and "lying about taxes."

She called you again. "Adne, come on-," but was promptly was cut off by the sound of a small thud, then a loud wail.

"...DADA!"

Everyone who had been previously arguing with Walter went silent. Stopping mid sentence, he held up his hand to signify that the silence should remain.

"Baby? You alright?"

"Hale, just get over here!" Charlene called.

Hearing that, he pushed through the crowd and jogged over to where you were on the ground. With the way you'd wailed, Walter was expecting a broken bone or some blood. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Charlene say, "baby, it's not that bad! Just a small boo-boo, nothing a bandaid can't fix!" Which was promptly followed by you shouting, "I'M BLEEDIN' LEENIE!" A smile came over Walter's face when he realized that you had not gotten seriously injured, but had just scraped your knee. Sighing with a slight smile, he crouched down in front of you and tilted your chin up to look at him. "What are you cryin' about, little miss?"

Sniffling, you responded, "got a boo-boo. Don' like boo-boos."

Walter looked up at Charlene, who responded, "she wanted to catch fireflies for you, but got a bit too excited. She's been asking after you all day." He sighed, then went back to you. "Alright, you got daddy's attention. Will ya stop cryin' now?"

You shook your head back and forth, your face puffy and red from the tears. "You gotta kiss it better, dada," you said in a soft voice.

The truth was, you had been thinking about your daddy all day. You wanted him to hold you and give you the attention you needed, but it seemed that he had "more pressing" matters. If the day had gone differently and you had still fallen, you wouldn't be in shambles. But it just seemed that this was what opened the floodgates.

Walter looked behind his shoulder at all of the performers who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, and for sake of seeming tough, he wanted to tell you to stop acting silly. But looking at the pretty little one sitting in front of him, dress splayed out and eyes wide made him throw all hesitation out the window. Softly, he leaned down to kiss your knee.

Seeing the relief on your face, he asked, "better?" You nodded. "M' better. Thankie, dada." He shook his head with a smile. How lucky he was to have someone as gentle and sweet as you.

"You're welcome, lovebug."

#elvis presley #the trouble with girls (1969) #fanfic #fanfiction #elvis agere #walter hale #cg walter hale #elvis cinematic universe #its 11pm so bare with me if this sucks #this was a lot of dialogue and tbh i don't do much dialogue #i hope yall enjoy it anyway! #:-)

[turntechgaykid]

My Thoughts on One Piece Ships 🫶:

I Love Them/OTP:

- Zoro x Luffy

- Shanks x Buggy

I Like Them:

- The Going Merry

- Sanji x Ace

- Yamato x Ace

- Yamato x Sanji

- Robin x Brook

- Kid x Killer

- Vivi x Rasa (if you don't know who Rasa is watch the 98th episode)

- Ace x Mask Deuce

- Sabo x Koala

- Uta x Perona

They're Good:

- Sanji x Law

- Law x Penguin/Sachi

- Franky x Iceburg

- Reighley x Roger

- Sanji x Usopp

- Nami x Tashigi

- Nami x Reiju

They're Ok:

- Thousand Sunny

- Robin x Law

- Sanji x Sabo

- Brook x Jimbe

- Koby x Tashigi

- Usopp x Kaya

- Hiyori x Yamato

- O-kiku x Yamato

Only Ok When Very Specific:

- East blue polycule (Only if it's every one equally in love with everyone or poly Usopp x Sanji x Nami x Luffy but Zoro is only with Luffy)

- Nami x Sanji (Only when Trans fem Sanji)

- Kid x Law (Only hate fucking)

- Mihawk x Buggy (Again hate fucking)

- Crossguild polycule (Only if all are fem)

- Doflamingo x Crocodile (Actual emotional depth from both)

- Dragon x Crocodile (No Croco-Mom)

I Dislike This:

- Robin x Jimbe

- Bepo x Law

- Nami x Wanda

- Nami x Vivi

- Zoro x (Anyone but Luffy)

- Koby x Luffy

- Koby x Helmeppo

- Beckmen x Shanks

- Mihawk x Shanks

I Fucking HATE This:

- Robin x Franky

- Zoro x Sanji

- Luffy x Boa Hancock

- Luffy x Law

- Marco x Ace

#one piece #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #luzo #straw hat pirates #cat burglar nami #vinsmoke sanji #i hate zosan #shuggy my beloved #shuggy #red haired shanks #buggy one piece #just my opinion #dont go insane

[rorywritesjunk]

No longer locked upon the land but free on the rolling waves

You and Buggy come face to face with himself from the past, and while you’re fully accepting that this is your husband as a child, Buggy doesn’t want to accept it.

Rating: PG-13ish, but just due to some swearing.

Warning: Upset kid, upset husband. Reader is way too nice, doesn’t necessarily take husband’s feelings into account as well.

A/N: A combined request. I did a few versions of this story before feeling like it hit the marks I was wanting to hit. Also, I’m just trying to vibe off what I’ve seen of Kid Buggy. I’m no expert. I’d protect that kid with my life. He’s so adorable. I also like the trope of “Meeting your self from another time” and “gets turned back into kid-self”. This is the former, and I know shit about time travel but I just kind of made something up.

This is the last chapter with the epilogue at the end. This has been a lot of fun to write and I've enjoyed it so much, thank you all for reading it and replying! I've loved responding to you all. So thank you thank you thank you. I liked how this chapter wrapped things up. Moments go a little quick but that was the intention. Nothing was to really be drawn out.

Title comes from “Sailing Song” by S.J. Tucker.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6/Epilogue

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @misadventures0fdes @sylum @valen-yamyam16 @dohkyu @fluffybunnyu @skyofsteel @lavalampskyy @gingernut1314 @ane5e @madam-o @the-angriest-angel

Chapter Six

Your husband decided to stay back on the ship while you and the kid went into the town. His excuse was he needed to get the crew ready or something, but you didn’t push him for a real reason. Part of you wanted him with you when you went into town because you didn’t know what to expect. Would some kind of portal open up and tear the kid away from you, kicking and screaming, or would it happen in an instant, like when he first appeared? You were going to cry either way, you just wish you had some kind of idea of what to expect. 

But you also didn't want Buggy coming because again, what if some portal opened up and tore your husband away from you as well as the kid? You didn't want him disappearing on you at all so you just gave him a kiss on the cheek before heading off the ship with the kid.

“I think that the table was over here.” Kid Buggy said as he held your hand, leading you down a street. You knew what he was looking for but you let him take charge, wondering if he knew here to look. The table wouldn’t be there anymore, it hadn’t been since you turned 14 and left to start your apprenticeship and your parents moved elsewhere. They still made jewelry and sold it, but in another town on another island. 

It was hard not to tell him everything, because even though Buggy said he doesn’t remember anything about this whole ordeal, what if this was different? What if something was triggered that changed the course of the kid’s life from this moment forward? You didn’t want to take the risk. You loved your life, your husband, and the life you two had together. Nothing could change that, so you never told Kid Buggy that he stole from your parents, or that he would become a Devil Fruit user at a young age (he never questioned Buggy’s head popping off his body during their first meeting), nor did Buggy ever tell him what happened between him and Shanks. 

“You think so?” You replied as you followed after, smiling down at him as he turned his head in every direction, a look of concentration on his cute face as he tried to remember where to go. He stopped a few times, looking around, wondering where to turn. You were patient, giving his hand a squeeze whenever he’d start walking again.

“I’d bring you back with me if I could, y’know.” Buggy said as he looked up at you. “Introduce you to everyone. They’d think you were great.” He then looked away, searching for the table of merchandise that no longer existed. “But I know you wouldn’t wanna come with…”

“If I could come back to my husband in the end, I would.” You assured him with a smile. “But you’ve seen how you are as an adult, you can’t survive ten minutes without me, so I have to stay back with him.” Truthfully, if you met the crew, you would have brought hell down upon them. While your husband would speak highly of being an apprentice under Gold Roger, you had other opinions, ones that you wouldn’t share because you didn’t want to upset Buggy. There was always something under the surface whenever you listened to your husband speak about it. The self-doubt, fear of failure, everything, and one time when he was drunk he cried about Shanks, often feeling lesser than his friend, but then the next morning as he sobered up he would curse the same man. 

“Yea?” He grinned. “Really? I think you’d like it. You could even meet Shanks, since you said you never got to meet him.”

“Maybe something will happen and I can someday, Buggy.” You steered him out of the main walkway, letting people pass as you knelt down in front of him. “I want you to know that I have loved spending time with you, sweetie. It’s been one of the best things ever.”

He blushed at that, avoiding your gaze as he looked away. “Are you saying goodbye to me?”

“No! Not yet, just…” You hesitated. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention, the praise, compliments, affection even. You wanted to give him as much as you gave your husband because you saw the way he would brighten up when you’d tell Adult Buggy how handsome he looked in his coat while you’d straighten his cravat, or when you’d let him know how much you loved him every night before going to bed. You meant every word you spoke to Buggy as an adult, and you wanted him to know the same as a kid. “I want you to know you’re a wonderful kid, Buggy.”

He was still red in the face but he allowed you to wrap your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He mumbled something in response and you didn’t quite hear it, because he suddenly pulled away from you, his eyes lighting up in excitement.

“I can hear Shanks!” He said as he looked over your shoulder. “I think he’s calling for me!”

You turned in the same direction but didn’t see or hear anything. What was going on? He grinned at you before he suddenly took off running in the direction he was looking. You got to your feet and started after him, but he was fast. He turned down an alleyway, calling for Shanks, and when you finally caught up to him your heart dropped. It was a dead end and he was nowhere in sight. 

So this is how it ended then.

~

You came back to the ship an hour later and went right to your room, ignoring the looks of the crew and even your husband. He noticed you were alone, so he told the first mate to keep an eye on things while he went after you. Buggy wasn't sure how upset you would be, because even after ten years of marriage he wasn't sure how to handle it.

He found you sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with something in your hand. Buggy hung his coat and hat up before taking his boots off and climbing into bed next to you. You immediately leaned into him, curling up against his side as he put his arm around you.

“I'm going to miss seeing you as a kid.” You sniffled, looking at the once stolen pendant in your hand. “You were so sweet, Buggy.”

“I was a little shit.” He rolled his eyes, clearly having a different opinion on the whole matter. You looked up at him with watery eyes and he sighed. “Fine, yes, I was a sweet little shit.”

“I just wanted you to feel safe and loved, Buggy.” You wiped at the tears as they rolled down your cheeks. “And you're not going to remember any of it.  What was the point of any of this?”

He just shrugged, pulling you closer as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He wasn't really good at using words to comfort you. He was used to actions like giving you gifts or finding ways to make you laugh instead. He hated seeing you so upset, but he knew better than to tell you to suck it up and move on. The one time he said that to you ended up with you giving him the cold shoulder for a week and he couldn't deal with that again.

“I just wanted you to be okay, Buggy.” You mumbled as you tucked the pendant away in your pocket. “I hate you went through so much before we met.” You rubbed your eyes. “And…and you're not going to remember any of this.”

“Yea, well…” He hated saying sappy things, like something out of a silly romance novel. He sighed and gritted his teeth. “If I didn't become an apprentice and continue being a pirate, we wouldn't have met.” You glanced up at him and his cheeks started to turn red. “The kid will be fine, because he will meet some way too nice tailor, fall madly in love with her and be an idiot about it, and she will show him all the love he will ever need.” He huffed and pulled his arm away from you, crossing them over his chest as he looked away. He felt a little uncomfortable but he knew you needed to hear this. “And when they hug for the first time he'll remember a moment of feeling safe as a kid but he won't know why, and when they kiss for the first time it will make him realize how much he wants her in his life.” He took a deep breath and exhaled before scowling. “Okay? So… so the kid won't remember what you did for him but he'll have a sense of familiarity when he meets his future wife, because she treats him with kindness and never asks for anything in return, and he really doesn't deserve someone like her.”

When he was finished with his rant he looked down at you, only to be horrified when he saw new tears streaming down your cheeks. Oh shit. He didn't mean to make you cry.

“S-Sorry, I didn't mean to-” He was at a loss for words. “Why are you-”

“R-Really?” You whimpered. “You felt that way when we met?”

He turned even redder if possible, unsure if he should keep talking or not, but you were almost smiling now as the tears rolled down your cheeks so he sighed and nodded.

“Y-Yes.” He said, looking away from you once more. “I… I knew the moment you gave me a hug that you and I were meant to be, because I felt safe in your arms and… and you took good care of me even before we started our relationship.” He scratched his cheek, looking so very uncomfortable to be carrying on like this, but your crying was letting up and you were looking at him with such love in your eyes that he thought he was going to literally fall to pieces in front of you. “Fixing my coat, clothes, even my gloves. It… it was nice and you didn't have to do that because I wasn't the nicest person to you at times, y’know.”

“I fixed your gloves just to spend extra time talking to you.” You said, giggling as you wiped your eyes with the hem of your shirt. He looked at you in confusion. “I made it up that your gloves needed fixing. I just… wanted to spend time with you after fixing other things, and you didn't know what I was talking about so you let me.” You smiled brightly at him. “I lied because I liked you, Buggy.”

His jaw dropped, a look of betrayal on his face. “What?! You lied?!”

You laughed. “What? I liked seeing your hands without them, honey, because you always wore them. That was the first time I felt your hands without gloves on, you know.”

“I can’t believe you lied!” He wouldn’t drop that tiny detail. “After all this time you lied about my gloves needing to be fixed?”

You knew what he was doing, trying to distract you from being upset, and you appreciated it. It still hurt having the kid disappear so quickly out of your sight but it was a comfort to hear from your husband the little bits he could recall, even if it wasn’t exact moments of his time with you. You didn’t want him to be hurt, or go through the heartaches of growing up, but if it meant the two of you meeting and falling in love, then maybe you could accept that you couldn’t fix everything.

“I love you, Buggy.” You told him as you leaned over to kiss his cheek. He turned red and looked away again but he put his arm back around you, pulling you closer to him before he looked back at you. 

“Yea, yea.” He kissed you on the forehead and sighed. “I love you too.”

~*~*~

“Buggy! Where’ve ya been?” One of the older crewmen asked. Buggy didn’t turn around, instead looking at his now empty hands. Where did the pendant go? He just snatched it off that table and he had it in his hands just moments ago, but now it was missing. Did he somehow drop it? “It’s been twenty minutes, kid! Don’t take off like that!”

He glared up at the man. “Not my fault you can’t keep up with me!”

The man just laughed and patted him on the head; the kid immediately swatted at his hand, trying to get him to stop. He didn’t take off running, he had just been with the crew and then it seemed like everything went still for a moment. He didn’t want to say anything so he kept quiet, trailing after the adult as they went to join up with the others. 

“We weren’t too worried, y’know. Figured you’d turn up once you got hungry.” 

Buggy just nodded, glaring at the ground as he walked along. It’s not like he disappeared or anything. He was just out of sight for a few minutes. Shanks and him did it all the time. 

They were walking down the street that the vendor was on where he took the pendant from. Did they somehow get it back? He hesitated but risked taking a look as they walked by. The adults were talking to a customer, showing off pieces while a girl around Buggy’s age sat nearby, looking completely bored. When their eyes met she perked up a bit and gave him a big smile. Buggy made a face and looked away  but the adult he was with noticed the exchange and laughed.

“Flirtin’ with the local girls, Buggy?”

“Shut up!” He snapped. “Let’s get back to the ship!”

“Don’t you want to say bye to your girlfriend?” He teased as Buggy glared at him, his face red. He was about to say something else when something tugged on his sleeve. He spun around, ready to fight, but froze when he saw the girl standing there, holding a flower in her hand with a big smile on her face. 

“The red flower looks like your nose.” She told him as she took his hand and placed the flower in it. “I like it.”

Buggy didn’t say anything as his hand closed around the flower. He was frozen where he stood, not sure how to respond to that, but the moment didn’t last because she turned and went back to her parents, taking her seat near the table once more. He didn’t know what to say or do next, but the adult grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him along, laughing and joking about young love and other stupid shit Buggy didn’t care about. He stuck the flower in his pocket and looked back at her once more, his face still as red as his nose. She was watching him leave and gave him a smile and wave as he left. 

Yea, okay, he decided she was kind of nice, but he wouldn’t see her again so there was no point in saying hi to her or asking her name.

 It was just a one time meeting by chance.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy x oc #buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

[saitama-vs]

Hello. THis is the big list of all the results, sorted alphabetically. Warning: LONG LIST UNDER CUT.

Aang from Avatar: the Last Airbender 41.0%

Ahti the Janitor from Control 52.8%

Akinator from Akinator 47.8%

Amelia Bedelia 80.8%

Amy Wong from Futurama 31.4%

Arale Norimaki from Dr. Slump (and one episode of Dragon Ball Super) 78.3%

Assassinlan Pasalan from The Battle Cats 54.0%

Astarion Acunin from Baldur's Gate 3 8.5%

Bambi from Bambi 19.1%

Barney the Dinosaur from Barney and Friends 27.8%

Batman 11.4%

Beedle from The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword 52.5%

Bennett from Genshin Impact 18.3%

Bocchi from Bocchi the Rock 55.7%

Boyfriend from Friday Night Funkin' 22.2%

Brassmo the Chao from Saltydkdan 83.2%

Buggy the Clown from One Piece 37.9%

Bugs Bunny 86.2%

Bunga from The Lion Guard 25.0%

Burgerpants from Undertale 34.7%

Captain Biceps from Captain Biceps 22.9%

Cats from Real Life 76.4%

Cecil Palmer from Welcome to Night Vale 72.1%

Charlie Kelly from Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia 24.1%

Chell from Portal 54.9%

Chompy from Bug Fables 87.2%

Clover from Homestuck 57.1%

Columbo from Columbo 79.3%

Connecticut Clark 71.9%

Dan from Dan VS. 38.6%

Death from Discworld 63.7%

Discord from My Little Pony 34.2%

Ditto from Pokemon 57.0%

Divecat build Purrloin from Competitive Pokemon 62.8%

Dougie Jones from Twin Peaks: the Return 43.5%

Ebony Dementia Darkness Raven Way from My Immortal 45.8%

Eduardo from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends 40.3%

Fear from Inside Out 23.0%

FEAR rattata from Competitive Pokemon 57.5%

Figment the Dragon from EPCOT 47.0%

Flabébé from Pokémon 36.9%

Flan from Everhood 41.6%

Flora Reinhold from Professor Layton 72.2%

Fumihiko Takaba from Jujutsu Kaisen 62.9%

Gamzee Makara from Homestuck 41.5%

Genie from Aladdin (1992) 66.2%

Genie from Aladdin (2019) 14.3%

Gir from Invader Zim 61.5%

Gnome Ann from Xkcd 85.6%

Gorgeous Freeman from Gorgeous Freeman 56.8%

Gotrek Gurnisson from Warhammer Fantasy 63.1%

Hatsune Miku 73.8%

Holly Jolly from Sleepless Domain 72.6%

Homura Akemi from Madoka Magica 28.1%

Imposter from Among Us 50.5%

Ingo and Emmet from Pokemon 47.7%

Isca the Unbeaten from X-Men 3.1%

Jailbot from Superjail 46.2%

Jerry from Tom & Jerry 89.7%

Joltik from Pokémon 68.7%

Kabal from Mortal Kombat 23.2%

Kanade Yoisaki from Proseka 33.3%

Karl the Raccoon from Bungou Stray Dogs 84.9%

Kira from Death Note 16.9%

Kirby 86.8%

Kobeni from Chainsaw Man 53.4%

Kyubey from Madoka Magica 20.6%

Lamb from Cult of the Lamb 51.5%

Larry the Cucumber from Vegetales 48.2%

Leeroy Jenkins from World of Warcraft 37.2%

Link from The Legend of Zelda 22.0%

Luigi, While Doing Nothing 79.3%

Luo Binghe from Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System 43.4%

Macbeth 15.6%

Madoka Kaname from Madoka Magica 49.0%

Magda from The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild 67.0%

Mandy from The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy 52.6%

Maxwell from Scribblenauts 75.4%

Melissa Foddebrat from Beware the Villainess 40.5%

Metal Cat from The Battle Cats 51.6%

Mindy from Animaniacs 58.4%

Minimoose from Invader Zim 82.3%

Mio Naganohara from Nichijou 80.3%

Mister Invincible from Mister Invincible 76.3%

Mister Miracle from DC Comics 37.0%

Mob from Mob Psycho 100 41.2%

Monkey D. Luffy in Gear Fifth 25.6%

Monokuma from Danganronpa 16.1%

Mosquito from One Punch Man 76.1%

Mr. Bean from the Mr. Bean Show 51.1%

Nahida from Genshin Impact 15.4%

Neco-Arc from Tsukihime 70.9%

One of Every Pokemon 44.5%

Orko from He Man/Masters of the Universe 53.4%

Peegue from Return to Wonderland/Wonderland Secret Worlds/the Wonderland Adventures trilogy 59.1%

Phoenix Wright from Ace Attorney 57.4%

Percy Jackson from Percy Jackson and the Olympians 10.1%

Perry the Platypus from Phineas and Ferb 66.4%

Pikmin from Pikmin 77.4%

Pinkie Pie from My Little Pony 90.4%

Plank from Ed, Edd, N' Eddy 74.7%

Plankton from Spongebob 29.1%

Pop Fizz from Skylanders 41.6%

Princess Tutu from Princess Tutu 63.4%

Prismo from Adventure Time 61.2%

Q from Star Trek 33.3%

Raku-Chan from Nyan Neko Sugar Girls 42.1%

Reigen Arataka from Mob Psycho 100 41.5%

Remy from Ratatouille 54.2%

Rick Shades from Epithet Erased: Prison of Plastic 16.6%

Rio Mason Busujima from Hypnosis Mic 29.6%

Roadrunner from Looney Tunes 93.8%

Roger Rabbit from Who Framed Roger Rabbit 66.1%

Ryan, the 'I Like Trains' kid from ASDFMovie 68.1%

Saiki Kusuo from The Disasterous Life of Saiki K 65.7%

Saint from Rain World 56.4%

@saitama-vs 30.3%

Sans from Undertale 51.3%

Santa Claus 64.2%

Saxton Hale from TF2 43.5%

SCP-682, The Hard-to-Destroy Reptile 24.2%

Shedinja from Pokemon 72.5%

Sissel from Ghost Trick 68.3%

Six Balls from Scum Villains Self Saving System 70.1%

Socioeconomic Inequality from Real Life 72.3%

Spider Ham 53.0%

Spies from Spy vs Spy 45.3%

Squirrel Girl from Marvel Comics 83.5%

Stanley from The Stanley Parable 49.0%

Starchild Dave Bowman from 2001 34.7%

Steve from Big Top Burger 81.7%

Stuart Little from Stuart Little 23.7%

Swarm of Bees from Real Life 83.5%

Tenma Tsukasa from Project SEKAI 39.9%

The Animaniacs 86.9%

The Cabbage Merchant from Avatar: The Last Airbender 33.6%

The Djinn from Twisted: the Untold Story of a Royal Vizier 86.5%

The Great Gazoo from The Flintstones 55.7%

The Goose from Untitled Goose Game 94.3%

The Gopher from Caddyshack 79.4%

The Groke from Moomins 73.5%

The Midnight Crew from Homestuck 23.9%

The Monty Python Rabbit 64.8%

The Penguins from Madagascar The results of this one are complicated

The Pink Panther from The Original Pink Panther Cartoons 87.5%

The Swan from Hot Fuzz 90.7%

The TF2 Mercs The results of this one's complicated

The Tick from The Tick (1994) 34.7%

Tom Bombadil from Lord of The Rings 80.5%

V1 from ULTRAKILL 65.9%

Vriska from Homestuck 36.2%

Xi Ping/Xi Shiyong/Tai Sui from Tai Sui 34.2%

Yonah from Nier Replicant 28.6%

You 22.6%

Youngster Joey's Top Percentage Rattata 37.9%

#not saitama poll

[quinloki]

Quicksand

Fem Reader x Sir Crocodile

CW: Language, violence, blood, moral ambiguity, murder, sexual themes and situations, yandere, angst with a happy ending, a referenced instance of physical abuse. 18+ only

Chapter 1 - Table of Consent -

Chapter 3: Sand Trap

"Ah... no, it's f-fine." Your face goes red, and your body tries to disappear in on itself.

There's an amused note in his voice when he speaks. "It seems sixty days of conversation is evaporating right before my eyes."

You flinch, feeling guilty. "Sorry! Sorry, I uh..." You cover your face with your hands. "Of all the statistical possibilities, I wasn't prepared for this."

He chuckles, it's a warm sound that seems to stay in his chest. "Understandably. I do hope you'll decide to stay, at least."

"I... yes." You relax. You'd been having really great conversations with him for the last two months, and it wouldn't be fair to just leave.

More pointedly, would you survive, if you just walked out on a Freakin' WARLORD?!

"Try not to think of me as your boss, Miss?"

"My boss' boss' boss." You correct, taking in a deep breath and letting it out. "And it's (Y/N). (Y/N)(L/N), uh... sir."

"If you're not comfortable saying my name in public, you can call me Sunawani." He offers, picking up a menu and looking it over.

"Sunawani?"

"Mmhm. It's just a different language from what's used in the Metro." He clarifies, looking up from the menu to glance at you. "What do you think?"

"Uh, I think I can use that more easily." You admit, grabbing a menu as well, and unproductively reading over it. The words on the menu swim around with one another and nothing makes sense to you. Your nerves are killing you. When you had started talking with him over the website you had assumed that he had like, something physically wrong with him. It was a terrible assumption to make, but he was educated, and charismatic and understanding in every word that had come across your screen.

You hadn't figured the reason behind him having a hard time finding someone trustworthy was because he was a FREAKING HOT SUCCESSFUL WARLORD. You never mentioned the Underground while you had spoken, you hadn't even shared opinions on marines or the government.

Oh no how were you going to tell Alvida? What were you going to tell Buggy! Wait, why did you need to tell anyone anything? You got stood up. Plain and simple. This never happened. It was a delightful afternoon, and the food was really good, you could recommend the café, but that was it.

Your decision helped you refocus on the menu, and you were finally starting to sort out what was being offered.

Shortly after, Vivi came over and introduced herself.

"I'm Vivi, I'll be your server today." She says cheerfully. You could tell she was happy for you. "Have you decided what you'll have today, or do you need a few more minutes?"

"I know what I'd like, but I think my companion may need a few more moments." Crocodile offers, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Oh, uh, no – no, I can sort out what I want by the time you're done ordering." You assure him. Please gods just get the food out here and give you something to distract yourself with.

"Very well. I'll have the flank steak and eggs then. Medium rare, eggs sunny side up, and I believe your house blend coffee to drink." His voice drifts around almost lazily. There was no CEO or Warlord sitting across from you, but a half-asleep man who was probably missing his cigar. If you were half as relaxed as he sounded you'd be in a coma.

"And you, miss?" Vivi prompts after a moment.

"You know, what he ordered sounds delicious. I'll have the same, but uh, maybe some green tea instead of coffee."

"Same prep for the steak and eggs?"

"Oh yes, thank you."

Vivi takes your menus and excuses herself. You look around the table, wanting something to materialize in front of you so you could focus on it. The golden amber gaze from the other side of the table was drilling a hole into your soul, and he wasn't even staring rudely.

"If you can tell me what has you so nervous, Miss (Y/N), I can help alleviate it." He assures you coolly. His tone of voice and cadence make you feel like you could admit that you know he's a warlord and he wouldn't be at all bothered by it.

You laugh nervously, open your mouth a couple times only to close it. Putting your hand over your mouth and take in a breath, and when you finally speak you, voice is very small. "I did not expect you to be hot." You finally manage, looking up from between your fingers. He has the same relaxed, near-sleepy look on his face that you had seen earlier, but now with a slight smile tugging at his lips; which only makes him look better.

"Second to that I am worried about how this impacts work." You admit, after he doesn't say anything to your first point. "I've never dated a coworker, let alone..."

"Your boss' boss' boss."

"Yeah, that." Your face is pink, and you can feel the heat in your ears.

"I sense a third point," he says softly, catching your gaze for a moment.

"Ah... yeah, I'd rather not say yet." You admit honestly.

His eyes seem to search you for a moment, despite their half-lidded and relaxed appearance you feel like they're fully focused.

"Well, working two out of three concerns should be enough to start." He acquiesces after a moment's consideration. "Thank you for your compliment earlier."

"Compliment? Oh, yeah, you're welcome." You keep trying to will your face from turning any redder.

Vivi comes by with your drinks and sets them down with a smile. You're glad to have something to distract yourself with and cup your cup of green tea between your hands like it could save you.

"Food will be just a few more minutes." She assures you both and sets down glasses of ice water to go with your warm drinks.

"Thank you," Crocodile says, his eyes still on you and you just nod, not sure you can trust your voice right now.

"Would this be easier for you if I were ugly?" He questions, amusement just under the surface of his smooth voice after Vivi leaves.

You nearly choke on your tea.

"Nnngh, yes maybe?" You laugh a little at yourself, feeling some of the tension ease. "If you were like... normal levels of, uh, looking." You falter, not wanting to add a qualifier that would just be another way of calling him hot. "That would, uh, help."

"Perhaps I shouldn't have tried to cover up my scar." He muses.

It's a trap, and you walk right into it. "I've seen your scar; it just makes it worse."

"Worse?"

"Yeah, it, uh..." You flush brightly, realizing what you've muttered yourself into, trying to disappear into your teacup. "Makes... you... look... hotter."

You chug the rest of your tea, trying to ignore the very pointed, very pleased, gaze across the table from you. With the teacup empty you reach for one of the glasses of water.

"Thirsty?"

Phrasing! Yes! Dammit! Thoughts rush through your head and you stop yourself mid-move to take a drink.

"Ah, sorry." You say, not really sure what exactly you're apologizing for.

"You have nothing to apologize for, if anything I should apologize for teasing you." He admits, a sly smile pulling at his lips. "But you seem to have relaxed a little."

You sigh a little, since you can't argue, "Just... ah, if you could assure me... promise, maybe?"

"Nothing that happens between us will negatively effect your job." He states easily.

"Or positively." You prompt.

That one eyebrow goes up again as he takes a sip of coffee. "Naïve, but admiral. Very well, neither positive nor negative impacts at work due to whatever may happen between us, I promise."

You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding, and your shoulders relax. Vivi arrives with your lunches and gets you a refill of green tea. Conversation tapers off a little as you eat, but the food and the tea were helping you relax the rest of the way. Granted, most of your relaxation came from knowing you weren't going to lose your job if this was the last date you shared with him.

Point three was kind of big, and you weren't sure if it was safe to even admit to it. He seemed sure he could smooth over any of your concerns, but Warlord was a bit larger than anything else. You couldn't imagine he'd walk away from that life for you, and you were certain you couldn't live within that life without dying to the stress. Assuming you survived long enough to die to something as gentle as stress.

The conversation afterward was casual and easy. Crocodile seemed more awake after some coffee, and while he still looked sleepy and relaxed, there was more energy in his words.

"I would like to continue doing this," the words slip from him before you can muster up the courage to thank him for his time and leave. His fingers brush against yours, and you couldn't move your hand away. Warm, large fingers slip over yours with more confidence and he's practically holding your hand when he speaks again. "I can promise you discretion, Miss (Y/N). I simply don't wish to let every joy you've brought me the last couple of months crumble to dust so easily."

That guilty feeling throbs within you again. It's obvious that someone in his situation would find it hard to connect with anyone the way you two had the last two months. The man you knew from the last two months was kind, attentive, intelligent, and even tempered. He was a good person, even if things had caused him to live in a way that was, admittedly, kind of terrifying to you.

Warlords were at least backed by the Government. They had been assigned specifically to create a barrier around the growing territories of the Emperors, allowing the government to press the four emperors from both sides. The well defended holy zone in the middle of the Metro, and the sprawling rural and suburban areas beyond the Warlords' territory. The Emperors, stuck between the two, had to follow certain rules if they wanted to continue to receive supplies.

It was an uneasy balance of power between the three groups.

"No one would know." You say softly.

"No one."

"I just... I don't want to see my picture in the paper without warning." Your excuse is a little weak, but no less true.

"No picture would make it to print." He promises, and there's a dark and nearly terrifying weight to that promise.

You chew the bottom of your lip lightly, trying to decide. He tightens his grip on your hand just a little, lifting it up and kissing one of your fingers gently. Your face flushes, and your mind is already trying to decide what his kisses must feel like.

"Once more, just decide that for now. You can think on things between now and the next occasion. I can promise you won't regret doing this once more."

Once more. Once more couldn't hurt. Once more, maybe even twice more. Enough to assuage your own guilt, maybe even get over your own fears. Once more. Just enough time to learn what that forbidden kiss tastes like. Once more. Enough time to know what this warm hand feels like, brushing across skin more needy than a few fingers.

"Once more." You agree, your face flushing to your ears, you pull your hand back and his expression falters just ever so slightly. "P-perhaps twice." You admit softly, and see a soft sly smile curl at the edges of his lips.

#Quicksand #Sir Crocodile #Crocodile x reader #crocodile x y/n #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #modern au #reader insert #yandere

[charkyzombicorn]

God au phrases

When it’s raining but also sunny - nami is beating the sun

When someone gets lost - zoro gave me/you directions

When some one eats a lost: appetite of the sun

Looks smart but is dumb- looks like an irises smells like a sunflower

Can't tell if you're genuinely angry or if you're just hungry - Mixing up the fire gods/Mixing up fires

Touch the sun god's heart - Originally equivalent to 'when pigs fly', now it means Very Nearly Impossible since Luffy appeared with the giant X scar that everyone blamed on Buggy

Don't split temples - generally means 'don't consider only one god' but is mostly used with engineers against those who try to invent in a vaccum without considering outside variables

Before Brook Sang - Long Ass Time Ago, usually used in the same way 'Once Upon A Time' is

Asking for gladiolas - Being arrogant and close to a comeuppance, most likely their own death but could be hyperbole

You're such a chestnut - Calling someone a crazy but romantic person

Heart of silver - used to be 'heart of the silver birch' but got shortened over time, means someone who's passionate and impatient

A dead sea - considered abandoned by all gods, not even Luffy can see what happens there, and the salt means not even Jimbe can control those watera, calling a location a dead sea is like calling it unholy/godless land

Law's visiting - Someone is close to death

Luffy's dozing - It's strangely cold for the time of year

#one piece #myths & gods au #Uhhhhhhhhh

[rose-riot-johnson]

Well, my Tumblr Peeps.... If you like One Piece and Ussop, I definitely have a definite treat for you😁👍 Recently, I have been having this idea in my head and I ended up having an idea about how to write about Ussop, himself. Anyways, my Tumblr Peeps... Enjoy🪴🌱🌻🌺

I Need Someone To Talk To ((Adult) Ussop x Any Gender Reader)

Genres: Nightmare Comfort, Hugging Mutual Confession(s), and Kissing (only on the forehead) (Warning⚠️: Only brief mentions of death without say the word death😅)

As the newest member of the Strawhats, you also became Ussop's love interest, in first sight. Well, despite of you being very unaware of it, you did develop a crush on him, as well. While he's more clueless about your feelings for him, than you are of his feelings for you, you really enjoyed his sense of humor, his stories, and his hobbies, as he also enjoyed your outer (beauty and/or handsomeness), your kindness for him, and your smile (obviously...).

The both you also enjoyed eachother's company and despite of this and the fact you and Ussop have alot in common, the both of you are also afraid to confess having feelings for eachother. You went to Franky for advice. Franky has made some cute suggestions for you to win Ussop's affection, even though Franky low-key already knows that both you and Ussop have mutual feelings for eachother. As for Ussop, he basically asked Tony Tony Chopper, if Ussop could have a private chat with Chopper, later on that night.

Speaking of later on that night, while you were in your room, you were getting yourself ready for bed, as you put on your favorite comfy pair of pajamas. You then, decided to lay in bed, as you drifted off into your own deep slumber. "I will be having sweet dreams, tonight...", you said to yourself, as you were going to sleep.

Inside your dream had Ussop and the location of his plants, which is on the Sunny (The Strawhats Pirate Ship). The dream was definitely great at first. Both you and Ussop were definitely gardening together, laughing together, and having a wonderful time. However, before you were able to confess to Ussop, there came Buggy and his crew.

The dream has been turning more and more into a nightmare, as Buggy and his crew managed to capture both you and Ussop, so easily, somehow. It's like the both of you were held hostage, as Buggy decided to destroy Ussop's garden that both you and Ussop worked, so hard on, then when Ussop tried to retaliate, Buggy somehow hit Ussop in his neck, as you fear you will lose him... You then woke up screaming, then began to realize you had a nightmare, however you're still traumatized from that nightmare you had, as tears rolled down your face.

Meanwhile, Ussop was having a private chat with Tony Tony Chopper, as Ussop was asking Chopper for some advice pertaining you. "Well, Ussop... I'm not an expert on love, however there's no need to try anything, except one thing..", Chopper mentioned. A confused, Ussop then asked, "What's this one thing I should do, Chopper?", as he's willing to do anything to win you over. Chopper then answered, "If you were paying attention to the signs, the only thing you need to do is confess to (Any Gender Reader Name), that you love (him/her/them), since ((s)he/they) is in love with you too, Ussop. So, to warn you, I also already know the both of you love eachother.", as he was smiling. "Oh. Really...", Ussop replied, then both Ussop and Chopper heard a scream from the other room (which was from your room).

"It must be, (Any Gender Reader Name)! I gonna check on (him/her/them) to see what happened.", Ussop said in concern. Tony Tony Chopper, then replied, "Okay, Ussop. I wish you good luck what happened to, (Any Gender Reader Name). Take good care of (him/her/them), Ussop.". "Gotcha, Chopper!", Ussop replied back before leaving his room to run their your room to check on you.

When Ussop, made it to your room to knock on the door, as he whispered, "Hey, (Any Gender Reader)... It's me... Ussop... I heard your scream and I wanted to see if you're okay and to see if I can help you with what might be going on... I promise I will do my best to try not to push you to tell me or anything...". As you recognize his voice, you opened the door and letted him in your room, as you said, "You may come in Ussop. I really need someone to talk to, anyways... Specifically you, Ussop...", while holding your head down. Before Ussop went in your room he replied to you, as he said, "Okay, (Any Gender Reader Name).", as he sensed that something's bothering you. After you letted Ussop in your room, you gently closed the door that leads to your room.

"Anyways (Any Gender Reader Name), I heard you scream earlier and you seemed to feel threatened, so if there's anything you need and/or anything you feel that's on your mind or heart or maybe both, I will always be there for you. Okay, (Any Gender Reader Name)?", Ussop said, as he gave you assurance. You nodded yes, then proceeded to give him a hug, as you started to sob on his right shoulder. Ussop, then out of instinct, hugged you back, as he said, "Everything is okay now, (Any Gender Reader Name). Whatever happened earlier, I will see what I can do to comfort you.".

You then hugged Ussop tightly and looked in his eyes, as his words felt very comforting for you, as you said, "Well, Ussop... It may sound silly or childish... It's just that... Earlier tonight... I had a scary dream...". Ussop was shocked to hear that you had a nightmare, however he still madesure to be there for you as he said, "Talk about it, as much as you like. No matter how silly or childish it sounds and/or will sound, I will listen to you.", as he started to pet you. You then said, "Well... The dream was good at first... You were in the dream...The both of us were gardening together...laughing together... It's like we were having a wonderful time, Ussop... Before I could tell you how I felt about you... This dream was turning into a nightmare...".

Ussop then encouraged you (without prying anything out of you), as he asked, "Would you like to talk more about it?", then he said, "And take as much time, as you need to, (Any Gender Reader).", as he continued petting you. You then replied, "Okay Ussop. Anyways... The dream actually started turning into a nightmare, when Buggy and his crew captured us and it felt like they're holding us hostage, as Buggy destroyed your garden that we worked, so hard on... The next thing I remember in the dream was when you tried to retaliate and make Buggy pay for what he did to your garden, because there was alot of principle behind it, and even if it wasn't, then still... Then he hit you in your neck, as you ended up passing away on me... I was so... Scared to lose you, then I woke up screaming, then I cried, because this dream, just traumatized me, so much that I don't know what would happen, if I lose you in anyway, especially with you passing away on me!", then you sobbed on the same right shoulder of Ussop's as you hugged him tighter, as he continued petting you and holding you. Ussop then said, "(Any Gender Reader Name). I understand how you feel.", then asked, "Would like to go outside for some air?", as he's offering you, to come outside with him. You then accepted the offer, as you went outside with him.

After the both of you went outside, the both of you were walking as you said, "Hey... Ussop... I'm sorry for hugging you, too tightly, if I did. I just really felt like aside from your your words and hugs... It's that I also felt better from hugging you, as well.", as you apologize to Ussop, as you felt like you hurt him, by accident, physically. He replied, "Its alright, (Any Gender Reader Name). Your tight hugs didn't hurt me at all. Infact, I have dealt with plenty of physically painful and uncomfortable hugs. So, your hugs are harmless. I do promise that.", then smiled at you afterwards. You then actually confessed to Ussop as you explained, "Anyways... I'm not sure, if you ever knew... I just figured I'd tell you this... I really loved, so much about you, Ussop and I really have been having feelings for you for some time... It may sound, too soon or crazy... I just really wanted to tell you this... I'm in love with you, Ussop and I have been longer than I remember to be honest.", then you started blushing. He replied to you, "I'm very happy to hear, (Any Gender Reader Name). I honestly feel the same way about you.". He blushed, as he just realized that the moment you confessed to him, Chopper was right about you about your feelings for him all along.

"Anyways, (Any Gender Reader Name). Would it be alright, if we visit my garden while we're outside?", Ussop asked, as he wanted to makesure you comfortable about first before going there. You then happily replied, "Ofcourse it would be fine, Ussop. I just know I will be safe here, right now, unlike that nightmare I told you about earlier.". Ussop then happily took you to his garden, as we wanted to makesure you're atleast alright with him taking you there first, before he does so.

After both you and Ussop made it to his garden, he then proceeds to hug you from behind leaning near one of your shoulders. As the both of you looked at the garden, as he said, "And you said and thought that it sounded too soon and crazy to tell me this, as you weren't sure, while you were wondering, if I ever knew you really loved, so much about me, and you really have been having feelings for me, then you confessed that you're in love with me and that you have been longer than you remember. Well, (Any Gender Reader Name)... Here's my confession for you... You see, eversince Luffy intoduced us to you and introduced you to us, I fell in love with you in first sight. I just always had my senses that there would be plenty to atleast really like about you. So, (Any Gender Reader Name)... I'm in love with you, too and I will makesure to nothing bad happens to you from now on and I will comfort, whenever you need someone to talk to and if something is bothering you. I will always be there for you, like you are always there for me and that's a promise, (Any Gender Reader Name).", then kisses you on your forehead. Eversince that night of mutual confessions for eachother, both you and Ussop have been together, eversince then.

The End

To be honest... My mind, emotions, gut, heart, and soul compromised for this fanfic. Until an idea popped in my head with working on a fanfic about Ussop, I wasn't expecting to work on a fanfic about him. While he's not 1 of my favorite One Piece characters, he's also 1 of the characters I never disliked nor hated, despite of his flaws. Aside from him being hilarious, I just have my reasons why I like Ussop and I'm sure there are other people who like him and would like to read about him. While I'm not gonna get over confident about this fanfic, however I just feel I made the right decision to work on a fanfic about him for sure. Anyways my Tumblr Peeps... I do hope reading this fanfic about Ussop, makes your day and/or night💭😴💤🌱🌺🪴🌻🌥️⛅🌤️☀️🌞🌙🌛🌝🎑

#one piece fanfiction #ussopp #god ussop #ussop one piece #ussop #ussop x reader #ussop x yn #ussop x you #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #nightmare comfort #nightmare #comfort

[swordsmans]

there was this zolu fic with asura zoro x nika luffy where they would be like “assistants” to the strawhats who worshiped nika (unaware their captain was him and that zoro was his like helper) and they thought luffy was like this prophet for nika sent to help then in battle or something like that and they fight buggy and its revealed but i cant find the fic anywhere please help……

here you go B) it's:

Prayers Carried on Waves Reach the Sun by anarchycox

Luffy is the sun god, Nika. Zoro is a demon. And his boyfriend. They make it work. On earth the Thousand Sunny is the ship of worship for the sun god, the crew Nika's priests. When they call for help, Luffy and Zoro go to their aid.

looks like there's a prequel as well, if you haven't read that yet! hope this helps!! enjoy!! ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

#answers