this is my side blog that i started for writing but it has kinda gone off the rails, currently we're looking at a 50/50 split between fanfiction and memes
what are you looking for?
âł about me
âł silly things (different post)
âł gen headcanons
âł spotify playlists - music i think one piece characters would listen to
âł x reader headcanons (multi character)
âł series
âł written works/all fanfiction (different post)
âł tags - i <3 goofy tags
just so you know you can message me, i don't bite i promise
about me
lynn | she/her | in my 20s
music and memes are my two favorite things
a girlie be mentally ill so updates might be inconsistent
currently hyper fixated on one piece but that is always subject to change :/
current fav characters: ace, shanks, and robin
gen headcanons
âł spotify playlists - music i think one piece characters would listen to
âł favorite taylor swift songs - this is important work
âł memes they'd have
âł chopper's hobby
âł straw hats' hobbies
âł wrapping gifts
x reader headcanons
âł you get them flowers (mostly platonic): zoro, sanji, and robin | nami, ace, shanks | luffy, usopp, chopper, brook
âł you say "i love you" first: zoro, sanji, robin, ace, shanks
âł they say "i love you" first: zoro, sanji, robin, nami, ace, shanks
âł how they'd support you (romantic): sanji, zoro, robin, ace, shanks
âł how they'd support you (platonic): luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, chopper, robin
âł where they like to lay their head: sanji, zoro, ace
âł jealousy: sanji, ace, shanks, nami, zoro, robin
series
âłon the run (ongoing) - shanks's x afab! reader (she/her
âł playlists (ongoing) - ace x reader modern au
âł after ever (ongoing) - sylus (lnds) x MC (named)
tags explained bc i like having goofy tags and in case you wanna block em
âł canon posts - posts i made that are not updates or personal (this includes memes, fanfic and headcanons)
âł silly shit - the sillier things (like memes and stuff)
âł x reader - this one's self explanatory tbfh
âł updates no one asked for - updates, be warned this is a common one that many people use
âł nurse lynn's rambling again - this is more so like random thoughts/comments on things
âł op update - i'm still watching one piece so it's just where i'm at in the story
âł stuckinmyinbox - answering asks or whatever people send me <3
âł what's in the kitchen - works in progress, basically what i've got cooking
âIs my baby still needy after all that Iâve given her?â
shanks x f! reader | wc:453 | tags: smut, it's just smut, you're welcome ;)
a/n: i wasn't planning on posting anything until i have the next two parts of on the run but i got horny and cranked this out in an hour so might as well. posting on mobile so sorry if the formatting is all fucked up, i'll try and fix it sometime
In a state of bliss, you rolled off to the side, dismounting Shanks. You had lost track of how many times youâd cum that night. First heâd toyed with you at some pub by the pier and when youâd dragged him back to the force heâd insisted you rode his face, which you happily obliged. Then heâd fucked you from behind before he eating his cum from out of you. You were sure your screams of pleasure could be heard from the docks. Following that you rode him, legs shaking the entire time but the pleasure had been so immense that you couldnât stop.
Exhausted, you were barely able to keep your eyes open as you curled up into his side, your leg and arm draped over him.
Shanks pulled you in closer, kissing the top of your head and leaving his in place. The two of you laid together in comfortable silence. But only for a moment. Somehow, you hadnât gotten it all out of your system.
Unconsciously, you began to grind against his leg. His coarse hair stimulated your hyper-sensitive clit. It seemed you were unable to stop. Your libido was demanding more.
Shanks smirked into your hair with a chuckle filled with pride in place of humor. That didnât stop you though, if anything it had spurred you on. A small, breathy moan escaped you.
âIs my baby still needy after all that Iâve given her?â The gleeful snide remark made you whine in protest. Nevertheless, you didnât stop your search for release.
Shanksâs arm shifted and tightened around your waist, pinning you against his leg. You whine in protest once more at your movements being restricted.
âHow ungrateful,â he commented disparagingly while wearing a pleased smile (not that you could see).
He tensed his thigh, maneuvering it further between your legs, all to give you a better surface to work with. The grip he had on you loosened and your hips defaulted to circling against him, chasing pleasure once more.
He could feel his spend and your juices leak onto his skin, but he didnât care for this was far too enjoyable.
Your sighs and little noises grew in consistency and volume until you approached another peak. An all encompassing shiver shook your whole body and you sighed in relief, finally believing you had it out of your system.
Thatâs when Shanks escaped your grasp.
He pushed your leg so you were on your back and crawled his way up between your thighs. âI hope youâre ready for more, darling, the night is still young.â
Your eyes snapped open in alarm, his wolfish grin was the first thing you saw. He was insatiable, but then again you were too.
So, as a resolution to myself, I'm trying to do art more regularly in my life, and tonight, I did some doodles for the first time in months
Shanks, I'm so sorry I made your neck look like that, maybe If you wore less, I could better understand your figure ;)
I would defo try to have a "paint me like one of your french girls' moments" with shanks, he'd be so into it
I am in love with your art, Wrennyx! So much so, that I had to write something for you - which is often what happens when you show me something beautiful in my ask box. I'm in love with your fishies, and that jellyfish is absolutely gorgeous.
Make Me Beautiful
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 750+
Synopsis: You asked Red Haired Shanks to model for your live drawing practice in an intimate setting. He is behaving about as well as you would assume he would, and cooperating exactly as you'd imagine.
Themes: Shanks x gn!reader, nudity hinted, NSFW themes hinted only - not explicit, established relationship, flirty rapport, drawing.
Shanks reclines back on the plush red sofa, his arm moving back to cradle his head with his stump descended beside his torso. The sheer fabric began to drop down his chest as he slowly moved himself into a more comfortable position. His leg bent at the knee, causing more of the fabric to dip below what was reasonable, revealing his happy trail leading from his belly to below his Adonis belt.
âHow's this, love? Do I look relaxed enough for you?â Shanksâ lopsided smile grew with each passing moment. It was as if he could hear the rush of blood thumping in your ears, the head swelling in your cheeks, and your heartbeat rapidly drawing up to a more dangerous elevation with each passing moment. His smile was the epitome of innocence, but the hunger in his caramel colored lenses lurked beneath the surface.
âJust-...? Can you just-...? HmmâŠâ you drew your thumb and index finger up to pinch between your brows in exasperation. Shanksâ smile only grew more broad the minute you squeezed your eyes shut. He bit-back the mischief forming over his lips and waited patiently for you to gaze back on him in his full glory.
âCan I just âwhatâ, love?â Shanks spoke innocently and softly to you, âWhat can I just do, hm? You know I'd do anything for you-.â
â-Shanks,â you growled out at him to the best of your abilities, finally losing yourself in the humor behind his actions and emitting a soft chuckle, âStop it. This is for life-drawing and anatomy practice. If you could stop⊠seducing me? That would make it all the easier for me.â You withdrew your hand from your brow and drew it over your lap, opening your sketchbook and slowly fingering through the folds to a bare page.
You barely heard the audible slip of fabric, assuming he was adjusting himself to become more comfortable and finally cooperating with you. You did not hear the following footsteps drawing the redhead closer to your sat position. As you focused on your lead and charcoal pencils lining up for a more ease of position, you felt his warm breath brushing against your ear.
âI could give you all the anatomy practice you could ever ask for,â he whispered huskily, âEvery single inch of my anatomy.â Your eyes automatically flutter closed as if your body was being pulled by the song of a siren. âAs long as you want, as hard as you want, my anatomy is yours to play with.â His lips slowly dragged across your skin, lingering over your pulse and causing you to tip your neck for his lips to find more of your body to work with.
You snap out of your minor hypnosis and push him away with a huff of breath.
âLay back down and let me practice!â You utter firmly. Shanks laughs heartily at your scolding, raising his hand clutching the sheet at his belly and causing the fabric to fall to the floor in defence.
âAlright, alright, bossy,â Shanks cheerily grinned down at your sitting form, now at eye level with every exposed part of his body, âI'll behave. I'll listen to your every word and hang on it like the lifeline binding me to the ground. I'll be your good little boy and do as I'm told.â
âShanks,â You screamed out in frustration with no weight behind it, swatting him away and balling the fabric in your hands, âLay back down and take this.â You threw the fabric at his head, a movement that he easily caught in his remaining hand, âCover your bits, or I'll draw them way smaller. I swear, Shanks. I'll draw them so small, you'll need a magnifying glass to see the damn thing.â
Shanksâ hearty laugh ricocheted off the walls of the room and caused a rise of your own to linger in your belly. He lay himself back down and tastefully draped the material over his lap, finally relaxing into a far more comfortable position and behaved more appropriately for a model.
âAlright, I'm ready,â he smiled down at you with that genuinity you had become used to in your time together. âMake me beautiful, but-...!â He moved his hand down to his lap and gestured over his crotch, â...Can you add some tasteful shading to emphasize it's even there, at least?â
âI'll do my best,â You shake your head with a smile that easily finds your features. Placing the tip of your pencil against the parchment, you nod softly and begin sketching the outlines of where his body fell.
Hello Please could you write a Shanks x you. They were apprentice lovers on the pirate king's ship. After the crew separated, y/n disappeared. When Shanks found out about her, she had become a marine and didn't remember it. Oh, at least she pretended not to be. But Shanks knew what to do. She wouldn't become a marine just like that. Something happened, and he would find out and get her out of that stupid organization. Please, your work is incredible. I'll send you a gift. Take care. I hope you can accept my request.
open book | shanks x gn! reader
hi anon! first of all sorry for the late reply i know it's been a while. also thank you so much!!! when i saw this in my inbox i had an idea right away, i've been chipping away at it this past month, it helps my brain to be able to hop between projects and i kept returning to this one it was very fun to write so thank you for the inspiration (and the gift, can't forget that) love you and thanks for reading the silly things i write đ
tags: lowkey hurt/comfort, very bittersweet, first love reunited years later, canon typical violence, drinking, swearing, suggestive (it always is with this man let's be honest), ambiguous ending ig (in my head it all works out lol)
wc: 5.9 k
a/n: i told myself i cannot go to bed until i finally finished this so if we see any typos or mistakes no we didn't, just know i tried lol
Shanks heard your laugh before he saw you. That sound wasn't something that he'd easily forget. It had been years, nearing decades at this point, since he'd hast heard it, but it was unmistakable. Shanks had never forgotten about you. How could he? You were his one regret. An injury that never healed quite right.
He hadn't understood his feelings for you until it had been much too late â until you'd been too far out of his reach. By the time he had realized how he felt, you had become impossible to find. He had tried, over the years he'd made many attempts to track you down, but nothing ever came up. All traces of you were gone, it'd been like you never even existed.
After all of this time, finally getting confirmation that you were alive lifted a weight from his shoulders â one he hadn't known he'd been holding. He looked around the dingy bar to find you. The prospect of seeing you again made him feel giddy. The feeling brought him back to his youth, to the last time you'd seen each other. It was far too late to change anything â he knew that â but talking to you one more time might finally bring him the closure he was missing.
When he spotted you, his heart stopped, but not in a good way. HE could barely believe his eyes. Yes, you were there, but you were wearing the unmistakable uniform of a marine. A rear admiral. There was no fucking way. He knew it had been years and things had changed, but there was no way you had changed that much. Maybe he had simply drank too much and was seeing things wrong, hallucinating even. At least that would make sense.
Shanks squeezed his eyes shut (a good substitute for rubbing them, he'd found) and looked again. The same scar on your forehead, one he'd watched you receive. The smile was the same, everything lined up with his memory. There was no more denying it. It was you. And you were a goddamn marine â or at least in one of their uniforms... interacting with the unit like you knew them.
Something was off, it had to be.
You had fucking hated the marines, and the World Government as a whole. At least you had the last time he'd seen you. He remembered the drunken rants you would go on, airing out all your qualms with the government â those rants he had always enjoyed, your animated passion had made them quite entertaining. Everything about the picture in front of him went against the very core of what he knew about you.Â
Truthfully, he had long suspected that you'd disappeared into the Revolutionary Army and that was why you'd been impossible to find. That was a seed that Beckman had planted in his mind early on, but it made perfect sense. There was more to this than Shanks knew â he wouldn't believe anything else â and he would be damned if he didn't figure out what.
The rest of the night he kept his eyes on you, clinging to the shadows. He was grateful that he was alone, it had made it far easier to avoid detection. He knew he was a wanted man, being spotted would make more difficult to decipher whatever the hell was actually going on.
As he had suspected (and hoped), you barely drank. Even when your soldiers urged you on, you abstained. While those around you were having fun and lowering their guard, you stayed alert. At one point in the night, you caught his eyes. A look of recognition and shock passed by briefly before you turned away, pretending you hadn't seen him.
Throughout it all, his feelings started to become more complex as memories of your time together came flooding back to him. You had been so close. The two of you had gone from best friends to lovers to... nothing. That still stung. Teenage heartbreak had a funny way of sticking around. It was true what they say, how you never forget your first love.
You got more chummy with your fellow marines as the night wore on, and, for some reason, it became harder and harder for him to witness. When one of them slung his arm around you, pulling you close, Shanks felt his temper flare. You were no longer teenagers and you were no longer together, he reminded himself. He had no claim to you and you had no obligation to him, but he couldn't keep watching it.
Shanks left the bar, but he hadn't given up yet. He wasn't going to let you go a second time, at least not until he got some answers.
~~~~~~~
It was all starting to get too much for you; your rowdy comrades were enough on their own, but seeing him again had been the real nail in the coffin. You needed a break from it all and you needed a damn cigarette. You excused yourself and stepped out into the cold night air, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Seeing Shanks on posters and hearing about him all the time at "work" tugged on your heartstrings enough, reigniting a sense of longing. But being in his presence? That was a whole different beast. You still missed him, there was no denying it. A part of your heart never stopped longing for him, even after all this time. He'd been your first...everything. Your naive, idealistic younger self had once thought he'd be your last too. Unfortunately, life had gotten in the way.
The disbandment of the Roger Pirates and your captainâs execution had spelt the end for you two. Heâd set out to sea, as youâd always known he would. He had invited you to come with him and you told him you would think about it, but that was the last time you saw him. You ended up wandering for a while before you found yourself in the arms of the Revolutionary Army at its infancy. With your strong ideology it had been a natural progression for you. Plus, you got seasick way too much to be a pirate â ironic now that you were playing the part of a marine.
Lighter in hand and cigarette in mouth, you walked further from the bar and way from the noise. Suddenly, you were yanked into an alleyway as you passed by, met with a question and a pair of familiar eyes. âSince when do you smoke?â Your mouth fell open, cigarette falling to the ground. Shanks. It took everything in you to not reach out an touch him, to confirm that you werenât dreaming, but the point of contact on your arm had already proven that he was in front of you.
A soft whisper of his name slipped from your lips, and he smiled at you. Shanks had always liked his name in your voice â it had matured with time, but it was still uniquely yours. âHey, Doll.â Your eyes widened in surprise as you took in the situation. Simply saying his name wouldnât blow your cover â you were a marine in the New World, of course you would recognize him â but the way your heart was racing might. At least nobody was around to witness it.
God, you hadnât been this close to him in years; breath intermingling, standing practically chest to chest. It felt almost ridiculous to still be this impacted by him, but you couldnât help it. How long had these emotions lied dormant? A highlight reel of all your memories with him started playing. You were snapped out of it when he placed his hand on your shoulder and gently called your name â your real one, not the one you had been using.Â
You needed to pull it together, you couldnât afford to slip an inch when you had come this far. But, damnit, it was hard. If you were better at this, you probably wouldâve raised attention to his presence, like you should have done before. You had to fulfill your role as a good little marine, and a good marine would alert to his presence. But the limit of what you were willing to do only went so far, and you could never bring yourself to hurt him. Any potential consequence to your silence didnât matter in the moment.
âWhat the hell happened to you?â Shanks asked, maneuvering his body in a way that would shield you from being visible to people on the street. âWhy are you a marine?â His usual easy going voice had been laced with concern and confusion. You wanted to tell him the truth, you wanted to tell him so bad. He had always been your weakness, but you had a job to do.
âAre you okay? Did something happen? Do you need help? Is someone forcing you to do this? Do they have something on you?â His continued on, uncharacteristically worried. As far as Shanks was concerned becoming a marine (especially one that had risen through the ranks) was antithetical to everything you stood for â against your very nature.
He saw the pang of remorse in your expression and realized you wanted to tell him. You werenât keeping quiet out of fear either, that eased his anxieties. Thinking about it, you had seen him much earlier but you hadnât done anything about it, and you werenât now either. It confirmed that you werenât in this position due a newfound love of the government or a sense of heavy handed justice â you had a motive. It was written all over your face, confirming that you were still you.
For some reason, the reassurance wasnât enough, he desperately needed to know what the motive was. Shanks knew he shouldnât push and that it should be enough to know that you were up to something, but that wasnât stopping him. Shanks tried listing off possible reasons and gauging your reaction, but he was getting nowhere. Either you had become much better at keeping a poker face and hiding your tells or he was severely out of practice when it came to you.
You couldnât respond or even open your mouth, you knew you could never keep things from him. Shanks had an uncanny ability to read you and figure out what you were hiding â it had annoyed the hell out of you and Buggy growing up, but here it could be harmful. Not that you didnât trust him, but there were so many unknown variables in the area, you couldnât trust your surroundings. There was no guarantee that you wouldnât be overheard or seen. Letting him touch you was dangerous enough, but you were about to do something more risky.Â
Reaching up, you touched his face, cupping his cheek. Shanks went quiet right away, his breath hitching. It was fascinating to see that you still had that effect on him. Perhaps you werenât the only one who had spent years being plagued by unresolved feelings, occasionally lying awake thinking of all the âwhat ifsâ.
But this would be your last time seeing him. It had to be. You wanted to soak it all in, remembering everything about him. The universe, however, seemed to hate that idea, calls for you rang out on the street in a drunken chorus. Your unit was looking for you. It was time to go.Â
~~~~~~~
The next day one of your subordinates had seen members of the Red Hair pirates and had decided to be a big shot about it, picking a fight. It had been really fucking stupid of him to go after members of a Yonkoâs personal crew, but he had. And now everyone had to bear the brunt of the consequences. Being dragged into an altercation, especially one involving Shanks and his crew, was something you wanted no part in. Honestly, you wanted to strangle the man for causing such a mess, but you had to act your part.
As the highest ranking official on the island and his superior, you were forced to step in and clean the mess up. The fight had already drawn blood by the time you had been alerted about it, which limited options in how to stop it without losing face. You came to the conclusion that the only way out was through, you just hoped casualties would be limited on either side.
Naturally, and unfortunately, you ended up facing the captain of the crew â a man you knew very well and someone you couldnât bring yourself to injure. It appeared that Shanks felt the same way. Neither of you were willing to put forth any effort in this fight. It was a dance for than anything. A forced performance.
You were backed into a corner, so close to your objective, but you needed to play it carefully. You knew that you were next in line for a promotion, one that you did not want or need yet. Saying no to the offer would raise eyebrows, so you had been trying to find a way to push back your consideration. It had to be done in a way where you didnât lose too much prestige either, you were walking a fine line. While you were going through the motions of a fight with Shanks, you were considering your exit strategies. Backing down and withdrawing, while reasonable, would decrease your standing too much. Being defeated howeverâŠ
Shanks was not worried about his crew at all, he trusted they could handle it, especially considering the state of the marines. What he did know was that you would not be engaging in this if you hadnât deemed it as necessary, and if that was the case he didnât mind putting on a show. You were scowling but underneath that was an expression of concentration, you were plotting and scheming. He wouldâve smiled at it if it werenât for the current situation. Watching you come do a decision was something he had always found cute, and that still held true.Â
With your mind made up and your swords interlocked, you inched closer to the yonko still wearing a forced snarl. âShanks,â you gritted out with no malice. Calling out his name had him soften ever so slightly, which you used to your advantage. âYou need to incapacitate me. Iâll give you an opening and you cut me, okay?â
The man looked at you like you had lost your damned mind, taking a step back but you chased after him. âYou need to take me down,â you reiterated, trying to convey your sense of urgency. âWhat the hell are you on about?â That was your idea? He couldnât believe that you were asking that of him. âI need you to trust me,â the angry expression on your face was undermined by the plea in your eyes. You glanced around to remind him of the situation, slowly, you watched him understand your reasoning.
The last thing Shanks wanted to do was hurt you, but you had determined that would be the best outcome. He didnât fully understand why or what you would accomplish by it, but he trusted you. A barely perceivable nod told you that he agreed. You released a sigh of relief and braced yourself for what was to come. With gritted teeth, Shanks raised his sword and brought it down; you allowed the blade to slash you. Your blood splattered onto him and he felt like he was going to be sick. Right away you collapsed to the ground; it was hard for Shanks to know how much of that was acting and how much was his doing.
âIâm sorry,â he told you as he sheathed his sword, not willing to look at you. You thanked him in a strained voice, and weakly rose to your feet. The skirmish was over. He played his part, now you had to play yours.Â
You ordered a full retreat and to treat the wounded right way -- there was about as many as you had expected, and to your sick sense of satisfaction, the man who started the mess was on the ground. The pirates got away with minor scrapes, but the same could not be said for your side. You could not believe the ego on some of these men for thinking they could go against them
Instead of going to receive treatment for the large gash that was dying your clothes red, you stayed put. Watching Shanks disappear again, reopening the scarred over hole in your heart.
~~~~~~~
Following the shit show of a fight, you had been brought to a marine hospital, where you were currently stuck. The doctors fussed over you almost to the point you wished you'd just died (not really, but wow was it a lot). You had finally been granted some peace and quiet when your transponder snail rang, and not the marine issued one.
"He's asking too many questions." The voice of the Revolutionary Army's chief of staff, Sabo, rang out the moment you picked up. The kid was nothing if not direct. "Get him to stop."
"Not even gonna see if I'm alright," you teased him before he could hang up. "You sound alive to me." The smile in his voice was audible. "Go fix it." With that Sabo cut the call. Without waiting for a response or providing any further information. That damn kid. He had pretty much always been like that, ever since you met him as a child.
It had been risky for him to call you while you were practically in a lion's den, Sabo might be bad at communicating but he wasn't dumb. The fact that he had called you here and now meant that it was a priority â whatever it was that you had to do. You had a pretty good guess as to what that had been about (Shanks), but you wouldnât draw conclusions with no further details. Either way, you had to make the preparations to set out.
Your doctors had been reluctant to discharge you, but you had managed to convince them with a made up story about your hometown and the threat of pulling rank. You were grateful for your status as a rear admiral, it had made it much easier for you to acquire the supplies you needed for a journey without anyone asking questions. The only thing that raised an eyebrow was asking about an unmarked ship, but you dropped it and chose to rent a civilian one instead.
Once you left the range of the marineâs surveillance capabilities, after completing preparations and setting off, you called headquarters for more information. To your surprise (and relief) you were transferred to Dragon himself, at least he would give you complete answers.Â
âI heard you got hurt, how badly injured are you?â He asked in place of a greeting. âNot enough to be worried about,â you responded. It was the truth, but you left out the part about how, depending on where you were going and what you were doing, you might have to push yourself. You informed him that you had a couple of weeks of explained and excused absence. You could practically hear the man nod. Before you could ask any clarifying questions about the mission, Dragon spoke.
âHe didnât tell you anything did he?â He sounded tired. Sabo was known for doing that sort of thing. While frustrating at times, you all loved him deeply. Sabo was really smart and dedicated to the cause, which was how he managed to become second in command as a teenager. âNo. He just told me to go fix it.â Dragon sighed, muttering something about âthat kid,â making you smile.
âRed Hair Shanks is asking around about you, using both names too.â You had figured that was the case, but you were a bit surprised, connecting your name and your alias like that was dangerous. Dragon had a vague knowledge of your history with the man, so he didnât bother questioning why the pirate would do that.
âYou know we canât have him sniffing around like that. What happens when a yonko asks questions? People find the answer. I donât need to tell you the consequences, but if we found out heâs doing it, the marines wonât be too far behind, which is why we gotta nip it in the bud. We canât afford to lose this operation. I donât know or care why heâs doing it, just get him to stop.â
~~~~~~~
After heâd left, Shanks had been in a mood. One that the majority of the crew had never seen before. He was quieter than usual, drinking more (an accomplishment tbh), and laughing less â it wasnât that noticeable unless you looked for it, or you were with him 24/7. he wasn't the best at playing it off tbfh. He could manage most of the time, it wasn't too hard, but when he got alone it was worse.
He felt stupid for being this affected by it all. Some of it made sense, like worrying about your well being, but drowning in emotions from over a decade ago? That felt rather pathetic. He supposed that was just what he got for bottling it all up. He had gone as far as stopping talking about you, at one point you were one of his favorite people. Not many people knew what you had meant to him at one point and even less had been around to witness it. It felt wrong to confide in others about the grave heâd dug, so he kept it to himself.
He was in his thirties for fucks sake, he couldnât be wallowing like a teenager experiencing heartbreak for the first time â he had important things to do â but thatâs what it was.Â
. You had been separated far longer than you had even known each other, he should be alright. But he wasnât. Everything was so confusing and Shanks had no clue how to sort through it all.
Not only was he stuck dwelling in the unprocessed pain from his youth, which wasnât fun by itself, but what was worse was the sinking feeling in his stomach that heâd killed you. In his mind he knew that it wasnât a fatal blow, but he wasnât entirely sure how he would live with himself if it was. The longer he went without any news on your condition the worse that feeling got.
When he was alerted of a sole, unmarked ship approaching them on the horizon a few days later, he actually thought about if it was worth checking â it was that bad. But he was glad that he did.
He borrowed someone's telescope already set at the right focus (there really was no good way to do that himself anymore) and looked. He thought that he saw you messing with the sail, but that couldn't be right. He passed the telescope to Beckman, who had (annoyingly) been keeping a close eye on him{ the past few days}, and asked the man to describe what he saw. It matched. What the fuck?
A series of emotions washed over Shanks, the man one being relief. He now knew that you were alive, and you were well enough to man a ship solo. The captain kept checking on the ship periodically, just to make sure he was right with what he saw. The closer the vessel came, the more certain he was, and the better he felt. Shanks damn near did a 180, falling back into himself.
~~~~~~~
The first thing Shanks noticed when you were climbing aboard was how you looked damn near green. The sight made him crack a smile. âStill donât got your sea legs, do ya?â The emperor teased as he helped you over the railing. You let out a short laugh, trying to control the nausea. Hopefully a larger and sturdier ship would make it better. âIs it that obvious?â
You stood on your own two feet, holding strong while you put on a brave face. But he could tell. He always could. Shanks got a better look at you and realized that there was freshly dried blood on your clothes, directly over where he had cut you. Seeing the consequences of his actions like that made him feel uneasy, but it was just like you to open up a wound like that. He sighed and looked you in the eyes. To be honest, you had forgotten about that entirely. You smiled at him sheepishly.
âGlad to see you havenât changed a bit,â he said before calling out for who you assumed was the shipâs doctor and leading you to a more isolated part of the deck. âIt seems you changed a little,â Your eyes flickered from the scars on his eye to where his dominant arm used to be, neither of which had been like that the last you spoke. âSâpose I have,â he said with a smile. He sat you down with your back to the ship before leaning against the railing in front of you.
Without your permission, your eyes scanned the rest of his body, very blatantly checking him out. Shanks raised an eyebrow at the action and you decided to just commit. âI like it. You look good. Like really good.â He laughed at the very conspicuous flirtation. He supposed one thing had changed, you had gotten more bold. âI can say the same to you, Doll. Timeâs done you well. âM almost jealous.â Shanks said, his smirk widening when you grew flustered by his words. Whatever you were going to say died in your mouth at the arrival of the doctor.
The man hoveredyou over briefly, zoning in on the bloody fabric of your clothes. âWhat happened?â The doctor asked. âI was bleeding,â you said cheekily. While the man stayed stone faced, Shanks let out a laugh, and you grinned over at him. âI can see that,â the poor doctor sounded tired, like he had to deal with this behavior all the time. âHowâd it reopen?â
âThe doctors told me to take it âeasyâ but I guess weathering a storm solo isnât easy,â you answered, removing bloody shirt. What lied below was your crude attempt at patching yourself back up.
âDarlinâ I couldâve told you that,â Shanks teased. You scrunched your nose back at him, a former habit of yours, causing him to laugh.
Shanks made the mistake of looking directly at the freshly unwrapped injury. He felt sick â knowing he was the one who put you in that state nearly made him ill. He had been feeling guilty for days, even if it wasnât fatal he still hurt you significantly. Sure, it was far from the worst injury heâd seen (especially with his lifestyle), but it was different this time, because this time it was you. And he did that.
You saw his reaction. This was what youâd been worried about. âShanks,â you called for his attention. âIâm okay.â The attempt at being reassuring was undercut by the wince from the antiseptic you couldnât hide. âSeriously,â you said looking him in the eyes, âyou helped me out. Thank youâ
He didnât know how you could be thanking him for that, but at your insistence he let it go. With one last look, Shanks swallowed the lump in his throat. âWhat brings you all the way out here?â He asked. Â
He wasnât about to complain at getting the chance to see you again, under better circumstances too, but he also was completely confused on why. It hadnât escaped him that you were there all by yourself, without your uniform, and how the little ship you had come in on had no trace of government insignia.
Instead of any verbal response, you used your eyes to point to the doctor, who was busy fixing the stitches youâd torn. Shanks nodded, understanding that it was a topic for a more private setting, so he shifted gears. âTell, whatâs new with you?â Also something you couldnât answered, for the same reasons. You had to refrain from rolling your eyes, opting to shake your head with a smile. You directed the question back onto him. Listening to him tell his stories with a big grin. This. This felt familiar.
When your wound had been cleaned, treated, and redressed, Shanks sent the doctor away with a thanks. He stood up straight and offered you a hand. âCome on, letâs go talk,â he said, pointing to the cabin with his head. You let him help you up and followed behind him, laughing when he snagged a freshly opened bottle out from under someone and continued to walk. âFor real?â The man with dreads and a bandana complained as if it was a common occurrence, which would not surprise you. âSorry, Yasopp, Iâll give it back to you later.â Shanks responded, raising the bottle above his head. âYeah, empty,â the man grumbled to himself. A loud laugh from the captain confirmed that that would indeed be the case.
Shanks led you through the ship, opening the door to his office while still holding the bottle with ease. Clearly it was a skill he had a lot of practice in lol. He held the door for you, shutting it behind him.
âYou still on duty, Rear Admiral?â He asked. You made a gagging noise at the title, âDonât remind me.â His grin grew at your reply, he had known that was out of character for you. Typically, you would never dream of displaying this kind of contempt for your position outside of the Armyâs headquarters, but you trusted this man with your life so your usual regulations were loosened. ââOr can I offer you a drink?â He continued, shaking the open bottle in his hand, spilling some in the process. âShit,â he said automatically, pouting at the loss [itâd be funny if he licked his hand bc so real bro]. âYeah, sure,â you laughed.
You sat down at the desk and watched Shanks. The posters hadnât done him justice. He was rummaging around in cabinets, looking for some glasses (because this man cared about portion sizes lol). It was almost surreal to see him again. To be able to hear his voice, his laugh, his breathing, to see his smile and the way his eyes sparkled, to be able to smell him â all things you had thought had been long lost to your memory. You pinched yourself to double check that this was really happening. The reset, while confirming you were not dreaming, set you back on track. This was not a personal visit, no matter how much you wanted it to be. You had a set of obligations to fulfill and responsibilities to uphold.
âLook⊠ShanksâŠâ You started, capturing his attention and interrupting his pouring into the glasses he had just found. âYou have to stop asking around about me.â You couldnât bring yourself to include how you should never try to contact each other either â at least while you remained undercover and the time table for that was unclear.
Shanks pursed his lips and nodded. A moment of silence passed and he poured out the next glass. âI figured thatâs why you came,â he admitted, sounding defeated as he slid a full glass of whatever heâd just poured across the desk to you. âWhat are you even doing there?â He asked, falling into his chair.
This time, the silence was your fault. You were trying to determine how much you could let him know. Shanks sighed and set his already emptied cup down. âThe Revolutionary Army or pirates?â âW-what are you talking about?â Calmly, he refiled his glass, focused on how the liquid fell. âWho are you working for? No way in hell your loyalty lies with the World Government.â He said looking you in the eyes and downing his drink.
He knew? Of course he knew. You should have known. You were practically an open book to him.Â
âArmy.â
âI figured,â he smiled, refilling both your glasses.
~~~~~~~
Over halfway through the bottle the conversation had gotten more relaxed. Over time, you had naturally moved closer together, now, you were barely a foot apart. Shanks sat on top of the desk, his foot mindlessly toying with your shin. His eyes shinned as you recounted some of the countless tales you had acquired since you last spoke. You hadnât realized how the man hung onto your every word.
When it was his turn to play storyteller, you were just as attentive. You took in his words eagerly, occasionally offering some of your own. It just felt right â so much had changed, but yet so little.
The kids you had known each other as no longer existed, you had both seen some shit and gotten rougher around the edges, but traces of them lingered. Shanks still had the same magnetic personality youâd always known, and the smile that you used to dream about, the one that had a history of making your knees weak. The damned heart of yours had been skipping beats like a child on the playground. It was all very strange. You had never thought youâd feel that way again, but that was something for you to deal with another day. Now, now, you wanted to stay in the moment before it faded away.
Shanks was deep into recounting how he met people on his crew and how long it had taken to convince one of them to join. You leaned in, looking up at him, wide eyes bright â it was a sight that shouldnât be as breathtaking as it was. He nearly faltered, but managed to power through. You had always had that effect on him and he doubted you even knew.Â
A first relationship, like yours, was bound to be rocky with ineffective communication and struggling to understand feelings. When you had unofficially departed there had been many things left unsaid. At the time, he hadnât known he wouldnât see you again, maybe if he had he would have said something different, but at the same time heâd just been a stupid kid. It had taken time to understand what you had and what heâd lost. Truthfully, he had never let himself realize the full extent of how much he had missed you.
The worst part of it all was knowing that it couldnât last. He understood that you had a life of your own and duties to fulfill, just like he did. Shanks knew full well that he wouldnât fit in the picture, and he told himself that he was fine with that, but why did it hurt?
Your words trailed off in the middle of sharing a story about the formation of the Revolutionary Army with Shanks. âYou canât look at me like that,â you told him, your voice low and guarded. âLike what?â He had no idea how he had been looking at you. âLike you still want me,â your voice had weakened, a vulnerability had crept in. The response took him by surprise but he recovered quickly.
âWould that really be so bad?â
He was right⊠would it really be so bad?
few quick things: i love sillies who don't know how to deal with emotions in a healthy productive way, i have made the executive decision that their love is like riding a bike, you never forget it, also i totally cried writing this lmao, my bad
i love you all and thank you for reading, don't forget to drink water and have a good day (or go to sleep idk)
i do think iâm gonna finally cross post to ao3 but i also want to do some heavy editing so i may hold off idk
i also need to chill the fuck out and stop developing the universe cause i have so much stuff (mainly smut) from before it started in my back pocket itâs crazy
i said i needed to stop expanding the scope of the universe but then do you know what i immediately did? started writing how the rest of the red hairs vetted y/n đ
i do think iâm gonna finally cross post to ao3 but i also want to do some heavy editing so i may hold off idk
i also need to chill the fuck out and stop developing the universe cause i have so much stuff (mainly smut) from before it started in my back pocket itâs crazy
i have most of part 6 written but thereâs one scene iâm struggling with so much cause i want it to be good but i cant seem to get it there and itâs making me annoyed, might have to slow down on the grind to let my mind come up with something goodâŠ.
i am really really excited for the next little saga in on the run (which i refer to as the âRun-inâ to give you a little taste) and itâs going to be so unbelievably angst heavy with a healthy does of violence but itâs so soft and sweet at the end
SUMMARY: Shanks knew better than to get infatuated with a younger artist than him, but can you blame him? With you looking at him with doe eyes, your sweet voice and innocent smile⊠You were going to be his.
GENRE: Smut
WARNINGS: AGE GAP (Reader is in her mid-20s, Shanks is in his late-40s). Modern!AU
WORD COUNT: 3.6k words.
âWe need you to choose an artist to collab on the new song, Shanks.â He sighed for what felt like the 100th time that day.
âI know, but I donât think thereâs someone adequate, yet.â And that was true. The album was almost finished except for this one song, the song that was a duet.
He just wasnât satisfied with all the demos heâs been receiving for the past month, and he was getting stressed. He was THE Shanks. He was one of the greatest songwriters of his generation, and that title came with so much pressure. Maybe not from the public, everyone seems to like whatever he does, but from himself. He just needs to feel it is perfect. He just needs to live up to his own expectations.
Shanks went through the demos once again and caught something new. A jewel case with your name on it.
He knew who you were. The first time he ever heard of you was in an interview where they asked you who your role models were. You said his name without thinking about it. He felt flattered for some reason. He liked your music. He always had some respect for you since he knew you wrote all your songs. This took him by surprise since, in the pop scene, not all artists wrote their songs. According to him, it felt too manufactured, too calculated.
But you, you were like a breath of fresh air.
He listened to your demo. And god, the combination of the verse you wrote for the song and your voice, was what he needed.
He never thought you wanted to work with him. Something about ânever meeting your heroesâ was something he remembered you saying also in that interview.
But he felt relieved. Relieved that he finally found the voice and style he was looking for.
Your team was ecstatic. They were basically on cloud nine after receiving the news that Shanks chose you to sing with him on a new song.
This was big, they knew that Shanks had so much power, or well, everyone seemed to respect him in the industry, so working with him was like having a golden ticket to stardom. Not like you actually needed the help, but this was good.
Such an opportunity only comes once in a lifetime, and the idea of working with Shanks was something you were looking forward to.
The thing was simple. Since you already worked on your verse, and according to your manager, âhe loved it,â everything else was supposed to be quicker than expected. Record the song with the band; Shanks himself will be there to produce the song as well. If he likes the sound of the whole song, then that would be it, or if he needs to change something, you would meet each other again for a 2nd session to make the changes.
It appeared that Shanks didnât want to record a million versions of the same song. He always went with the most natural and spontaneous versions for his songs, and you were glad about that.
Youâve lived firsthand how everyone in your discography wanted to make the best version of any song you recorded. Meaning that sometimes, they would make you record too many versions of the same verses just to choose the best one, leaving you drained and tired.
Thatâs why you loved to sing live. When singing live, there was no need to produce a presentation too much, it was just a pure, raw, and emotional feeling.
The previous night of the song recording was anything but peaceful. A million scenarios came to your head of how meeting Shanks would unfold. He was actually the artist who made you want to become an artist. You always had such high respect from him. So a part of you was really nervous, but the professional side of you was really excited. Youâve heard that he was such an amazing person to work with. Yeah, he was serious, but he seemed to enjoy being at the studio. Even if he looked drained, it appeared that he liked the feeling if it meant just spending more time there.
Your manager told you that not a lot of people would be allowed at the studio, though. Normally, only the artists Shanks worked with were allowed to enter for obvious reasons. So this was an âonly youâ thing.
When you were about to enter the studio, you gulped. This was it. You were about to meet the person youâve admired since you were younger. You could feel your heart in your throat, and your hands were shaking slightly.
A faint knock made Shanks stop the music. He knew it was you knocking.
âCome in.â You took a deep breath and entered the room.
For the past hour, you and Shanks have been talking. The moment you entered his studio, he could tell you were nervous, so he just wanted to make you feel more at ease before you began working.
He didnât really know what to expect from you, but he was delighted. You seemed really down-to-earth. He knows that people in the industry tend to forget that, at the end of the day, this was just a job, like any other. People tend to start getting out of touch with their surroundings and start becoming entitled, or as he likes to call them, âentitled pigs.â But he was pleased to see that you havenât forgotten who you really are.
The more the two of you spoke, the more Shanks realized he was going to enjoy his time with you.
And the fact that after some time, the two of you realized that youâve been talking for hours was the proof he needed. It was almost 7 pm, you arrived at noon. Both of you were too stunned, realizing you didnât work as you were supposed to.
But in both of your minds, this was a necessary measure in order for the two of you to get comfortable and be able to work properly without any awkward moments.
You finally went into the recording booth. Shanks was such an expert at guiding and giving instructions for you to start singing. Youâve done this a million times, but for some reason, it felt different. Maybe it was the fact that for the first time, it was only you and another person at the studio, or maybe it was the fact that it was Shanks the only one there with you. Maybe both. But you liked the privacy this whole situation had.
Shanks was pleased with the few recordings the two of you made. Looking at the studioâs clock, he was able to see it was almost midnight.Â
The two of you were listening to the final recording of the song. You couldnât help but smile when you heard both of your voices blend together so perfectly in the chorus, and it appears Shanks was also sharing the same sentiment with you.
Look, he has collaborated with so many artists in his life, and this was the first time he felt like this song was meant to be. It was pure perfection to his ears.
A part of you was happy. It all went so smoothly and quickly. But that meant this would be the only time you two would spend time in the studio.Â
The two of you stayed in silence for some minutes, enjoying each otherâs presence before Shanks finally spoke up.
âThis was the only song that was missing from the album. It will be released in 3 months, and after that, we just have to wait.â
âWait for what?â
âTo see how the song does in the charts, sometimes songs that arenât meant to be singles do really well on social media, and the discography wants us to promote the song as a single.â
âSo, in this case, if the song goes viral, we would have to promote it together?â
âOnly if you have time, of course.â
âIâm going to make sure to have my agenda free, of course, just in case.â
It seemed that Shanks was blessed with the ability to predict the future, as your song performed exceptionally well in the charts. Without being a single, it managed to make its way to the Billboard Top 10 after one month of its release, which was perfect for you and him, meaning that you now had to promote the song on different late-night shows or morning news programs.
The past 4 months were agonizing, though. Everything changed after that evening that you spent with Shanks at the studio. Your brain was consumed completely by Shanks. After finishing recording the song, the two of you stayed up all night talking about your lives, your dreams, and your wishes for the future. You never opened up to someone that easily. But there was something about Shanks that made him be perceived as someone you could trust.
As for Shanks, he knew better. He was well aware that nothing could happen between the two of you. He could easily be your father, for fucks sake. He was in his 40s, you were in your 20s, but still, he was willing to risk everything he had worked for to get at least a taste of you.
Youâve been texting each other every single day, wanting to know how your days went, wanting to know what youâve been working on, or even saying to each other âGood morningâ or âGoodnight.â It appears that you were just looking for an excuse to keep being in contact. Not wanting to stop.
It was actually Shanks the one who brought up the news to you, letting you know that his team was going to reach out to you to see if you had time to promote the song.
What he didnât know was that you were waiting for this to happen, that you actually made time and convinced your label to let you promote the song, even if it didnât perform well, but they had faith, just like you. And in the end, it was a success.
The next week, you were now at a TV studio preparing to sing with Shanks at a late-night show, the first of 4 presentations that both your labels had prepared.
You arrived a little bit early, knowing that your hair and makeup would take more time than what Shanks would need. You texted Shanks earlier that day, letting him know you were nervous since this would be the first time you would perform live with him. âyou donât have to. if anything, i should be the nervous one, to sing with someone as pretty as youâŠâ Those words kept going around your mind. âHe thinks Iâm prettyâ was all you could think about, which was a good thing since when you least expect it was the time to go on stage and finally, sing with your role model live.
While you were on stage, you tried your best to look as professional as possible. But you could feel it. The need, the desire that was coming out of Shanks every time he looked at you.
You didn't know if it was part of the presentation. Maybe he looked at all his female collaborators like this. But what you didnât know is that this was actually the first time Shanks saw someone with such intensity on the stage. He couldnât control it. It just happened.
For a moment, you almost forgot how to think properly, ALMOST. Because even if you were about to fall to your knees, you were still very professional, looking back at him with the same desire he was looking at you.
As the song finished, the two of you ended really close. This was new for both of you. You just seemed to connect.
As you were exiting the stage, your manager couldn't help but show her excitement, giving you a quick hug. You smiled.
âMy god, you did amazing! Such great chemistry!â You tried to hide the triumphant smile that was threatening to appear on your face. But Shanks was faster and couldnât help but quirk an eyebrow and smirk slightly.Â
As the presentations came to an end, you couldnât help but feel hopeless.
This last week was filled with lingering stares and touches between Shanks and you. He also wanted to spend more time together, so he started to arrive earlier than he needed to after that first presentation, spending time in your dressing room. Not everyone was allowed to be there; only your makeup artist and your manager were present, so seeing Shanks there wasn't that weird, at least for them. But if you asked Shanksâs manager. Yeah, that was a first for him.
Something that also changed drastically after that first presentation was the tone of your messages would have. They went from something innocent to something that had more sexual tension.Â
It was as if the two of you forgot that real consequences would happen if the two of you were together, if you dared to see what it would feel like to touch each other.
But could you be blamed? Everyone who saw that first presentation admitted there was something unspoken between the two of you. With comments like âgod i want to be her so bad,â âplease god, i need to be his controversially younger girlfriend,â or something as straight as âi think they did it but i just canât prove it.â You could only wish.
To celebrate the end of a very successful week, both labels decided to throw a small party for everyone involved in the making of his last album. All the collaborators, band, marketing⊠Every single one was there. But he could only look at you, and you could only look away from him, not wanting to be that obvious.Â
But Shanks wasnât having any of it. He craved for your attention. He needed to have you that night. Consequences be damned. He didnât care if everyone at the party saw how desperate he was. He had only one thing on his mind. You.
You could feel his hand on your lower back, interrupting the meaningless conversation you were having with some singer Shanks also collaborated with on the album.
âMind if I take her away for a few minutes?â The guy simply nodded and searched for a new victim to bore.
âFollow me.â He whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps through your whole body.
You could only comply. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears, your breathing was erratic. You werenât stupid. You knew Shanksâs patience was running thin. Yours too.
You didnât pay any attention to where Shanks was taking you. You could only guess this was one of his houses (yes, apparently having a lot of money meant having not only one, but at least four other places to live in, according to what Shanks told you) since he quickly took you to the farthest room of the house where this party was taking place.
As soon as he opened the door, he slammed you against it and cornered you.
âYou have no idea what you are doing to me, do you?â he grabbed both of your wrists, putting them on each side of your head. Making you whimper at the sudden roughness of his actions.
âShanksâŠâ You could feel his breathing tickle your cheek, but you couldnât react. Your whole body was on fire since the very moment he touched your back.
âJust tell me to stop, and I will. Please tell me to stop.â The thing is, if you told him you werenât interested in him, he would stop right there and then. No questions needed. You were the only reason he has been restraining himself for a whole week.
âWhat if I donât want you to stop?â You finally were able to form a phrase.
âThen say it, I need a verbal confirmation that you want this, that you donât care that every single person at this party saw us coming upstairs.â You shivered at the thought. You were so in a trance that you didnât notice the questionable and curious looks everyone sent your way.
âI want you, Shanks.â That was all he needed. Like a starved man, he kissed you as if there was no tomorrow. The tension that was created that night finally dissolved as his hands roamed all over your body, trying to memorize your silhouette.
You took the initiative and started to remove his jacket and shirt as quickly as your hands allowed you to. Trying to hide the fact that you were shaking.
Shanks also took this as an opportunity to take off your mini dress.
âDo you know how crazy and mad this dress made me? The moment you entered through the front door, I just wanted to take it off and show everyone how good I can make you feel.â You moaned at the words. âHere, or the bed?â
âHere.â You knew you sounded desperate. The bed was literally a few steps away from you, but you couldnât wait any longer, nor did Shanks. When you least expected it, Shanks was already fully naked, coating his cock with your juices, no prep needed. Shanks grabbed one of your legs, bringing it up to his waist, as his other hand was guiding himself to your entrance.
âWait, I donât have a condom.â He sounded concerned.
âI couldnât care less, Iâm on the pill.â That was all it took for Shanks to ram into you.
It was as if both of you entered heaven, as if all the waiting was worth it.Â
Shanks couldnât believe how tight you felt around him. He, even if he hated to admit it, hasnât had any type of sexual activity for some years now. But this was worth the wait. As for you, no guy your age has been able to fill you up this well. You could feel Shanks was filling you up perfectly. His cock hitting places you didnât even know existed.
Even if you were only letting out some breaths every time he was inside of you, Shanks could tell you were enjoying it, clenching every single time he moved into you.
âTaking me so well against a door, my angel.â You loved the nickname that came out of his lips. âI promise that next time we are together, this house will be empty, just me and you, and I swear to the gods that I will make you scream my name.â Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
So this wasnât a one-night thing. He wanted more. Of course he did. Now that he had finally touched heaven itself, he wasnât going to let you go that easily.
You didnât know how long youâve been fucking. Long enough for the two of you to move to the bed, wanting to enjoy as much as possible without the inconvenience of getting tired.
At this point, it was more than obvious where the two of you were. Both of your managers tried to come up with a good excuse for your absence, but the people at the party werenât dumb. They know what they saw. But secrecy was something that all the people within Shanksâs circle shared. They didnât dare to say anything at all, not wanting to risk their careers.
As for you and Shanks, you couldnât believe both of your staminas were that high. Shanks was able to manhandle you without any problem, switching positions as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He also realised he loved having you on top of him. He was able to see all of you like this. Your tits and your fucked out expression were the highlight of such a position.
âPlease, angel, come around my cock one more time. I know you can do it.â Shanks moved his hand to your clit, trying to stimulate you so he could feel you cum again. He was never going to get tired of the view. Your mouth was wide open as you tried your best not to moan out loud. One of your arms covered the lower half of your face, as your hand roamed all over his chest, trying to find something to hold onto.
âThatâs it, yâlook so pretty when you come for me.â He didnât understand how he was able to last that long, but he knew he wanted to finish inside you.
âCan I cum inside you? Please, my angel, let me do it.â You only hummed, not trusting yourself to speak properly. The overstimulation was fucking your brain.
âFuck Iâm gonna fill you up so good. So good that you will be walking around with my cum for the next few days.â The words he was speaking were going straight to your core, and somehow, the familiar knot at the bottom of your stomach was forming once again.
âYes, please, Shanks.â You didnât know what you were asking for, but Shanks appeared to have understood you, wanting to feel you come undone around him one more time.Â
Shanksâs thrusts started to become erratic, no real rhythm at this point, chasing his own orgasm. Shanks let out a brutal groan. And that was enough for you to climax for one last time. Shanksâs movements came to a halt. As the two of you tried your best to calm down, Shanks moved your whole body with such delicacy, trying his best to remain inside of you, not wanting to spill anything he just gave you.
âYou did so well, angel. So perfect, just as I knew you were going to be.â You felt your whole being warm at the comment.
The two of you stayed in silence, him still inside of you, enjoying once again each otherâs company, just as that first night the two of you shared.
You didnât know how you were going to work this out. But something was certain, and that was the fact that you wouldn't let each other go for quite some time.
Once, when you thought you had a good understanding of how he worked, you were certain Shanks was best enjoyed in pieces.
Drinks shared and nights spent with his hand at your hip and his mouth against your neck before dawn. But always in fleeting moments. Never for more than that. It was easier that way. If you stayed longer than a night, it became more difficult.
And Shanks had never been the type for anything more than easy.
You had assumed, at least.
The first time he made the offer was in a room already hot with the lingering aftermath of the evening. Rough sheets twisted around your legs, sticking to sweat-slick skin while the open window did little to chase away the summer air. Bruises were already beginning to bloom along your throat from the lazy path of his mouth before he slipped between your legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee, softer than anything he'd given you before.
âCome with me tomorrow,â he said, offering another further up your thigh. âSail with us.â
You lifted your head, curious at the gentleness of his words and his touch. âJoin you?â you asked. âDo you not have a full crew already?â
âWe do,â he said, his smile lazy as ever. âBut Iâll make space for you.â
You laughed quietly to yourself, brushing some of his hair away from his face so you could appreciate him better. Too handsome for his own good. He knew he could get away with anything if he looked at you like that.
âI see a problem with your offer,â you said and he kissed further along your thigh.
âWhat is it?â
âItâll make you lose interest too quickly.â
Shanks paused, leaning his cheek against your skin. âLose interest?â
You moved your leg from his shoulder and leaned down to drag him higher up your body, fingers tangled in his hair and lips locked in a messy kiss. He still tasted of the drinks heâd downed earlier and that explained enough about his impulsive offer.
âIt wonât be fun if Iâm already on board your ship,â you teased.
âNonsense. If I had you on my ship, I'd never get anything done. Becks would have to start captaining properly.â
âDonât you do that when Iâm around anyway?â you asked.
He hummed and kissed you again as though to distract you. âMaybe.â
You chuckled softly, unwilling to admit to him how much his offer tempted you. He was far too addictive to turn down. Especially when his tongue was in your mouth and his hand was dragging your leg back up his hip. If you didnât focus, you could almost believe he wanted you to stay with him. But pretty words alone couldnât sway you.
You still left the next morning and he didnât stop you, just pressed a kiss to your shoulder as you slipped from the bed.
âWeâll see each other soon,â he said and he sounded far too confident.
You smiled. âI suppose it depends on if the sea favours us.â
âThe seaâs a big friend of mine,â he reassured you. âIâm sure sheâll bring you back to me.â
He wasnât wrong. No matter how far you sailed, the ocean didnât give you long before it reunited you with the Red Hair Pirates. You stopped shying away from them after the third encounter, growing bolder with each offer Shanks tossed your way.
Now when you saw the Red Force docked in harbour, her flag snapping high above the masts, you'd wander the island until you found the right tavern. It was never difficult. Somewhere there would be a building with music spilling from the windows, laughter loud enough to shake the walls and patrons pretending not to stare at the cluster of infamous pirates occupying half the room. The Red Hair Pirates had a talent for making themselves at home wherever they landed.
They were a friendly crew. A mostly peaceful one, even. But they were the crew of an emperor and people respected that deeply.
You walked in most times, walked out with your hands in Shanksâ hair every time, and it was never a problem.
Not until the one evening when you waltzed in and half of his crew nudged their captain as though he hadnât already raised his head to look at you. You smiled at him and made your way to the bar, not bothering him and the woman currently pressed to his arm.
But he never wasted time in approaching you, even if he was busy. He slipped up behind you as you ordered your drink and nodded to the bartender.
"Whatever she's having is on me."
You hummed. âYouâre going to run your ship dry if you pay for the drinks of every girl that smiles at you.â
His arm slipped naturally around your waist, resting on your hip as though it belonged there. âNot every girl with a great smile,â he corrected. âJust the ones who need a bit more convincing to dance with me.â
The music in this tavern wasnât quite suited for dancing. It was softer and almost impossible to hear over the shouts of his crew.
âI might need more convincing than a drink,â you commented.
âName your price.â
Shanks was far too good at making your heart flutter, no matter how often you were exposed to his seemingly endless charm. He already knew heâd get what he wanted that night and you knew it too but sometimes, making him work for it was part of the fun.
âYouâve been trying to guess at my price for a while now,â you said. âYou havenât gotten any closer.â
âIâll figure it out with enough time.â
You turned to face him fully, draping your arms loosely over his shoulders. âIâm lucky I managed to find you without any other pretty women around, hm? Ones with more reasonable demands?â
He chuckled and leaned in to press his lips against the side of your throat. âThere are plenty. Funny thing is, I keep ending up back here.â
You tilted your head to the side. âAs easy to lead back to your bed?â
The expression he gave you was off â a smile that didnât quite get to his eyes. âSuch little faith in me. Youâre lucky I donât get hurt easily.â
âItâs not a lack of faith,â you corrected. âBut I know you enjoy the chase more than the reward.â
âI enjoy both as long as youâre there.â
You smiled. âI think youâd miss it too much.â
âMiss what? Waking up alone? Sounds awful.â He pulled you closer. âCanât say Iâd mind having you there instead.â
âThe pining,â you corrected. âThe wondering when youâll see me again. Trying to convince me every time. If I was already there, it wouldnât be nearly as fun.â
Something unreadable flickered over his face. âYou think Iâm trying to convince you for fun?â
âYou wouldnât do it if it was unpleasant.â
âOr if it wasnât worth it.â
You couldnât help being flattered by him, always so smooth. You loved the way he spoke sometimes â the way he made you feel as though you were the only important person in the world.
âIâm surprised your crew isnât filled with women thanks to those pretty words of yours,â you said. âEven I struggle to tell you no.â
Shanks laughed, a short sound. âWouldnât have guessed you struggle with it.â
You leaned in, your mouth hot against his. He kissed you lazily as though you had nowhere else to be, allowing you to lead him through it.
âIâll get us a room upstairs,â you said with a hum.
For a second, he smiled. Then he leaned in to press a swift peck to the corner of your mouth and said, âNo.â
It was as though even the music itself paused as you blinked at him. âNo?â
âAs much as I love chasing you,â he said, stepping away and leaving the space in front of you feeling very empty. âIâm starting to think you enjoy being chased more than you want me. We set sail in the morning. The offer still stands.â
You watched him walk away in mild confusion, still a little lost before his words caught up to you.
Was he serious?
The bartender placed your drink down next to you but you barely heard it. The music carried on around you as though nothing had changed. A few members of the Red Hair Pirates were starting up a song. The woman heâd been talking to earlier grinned when he returned but he took a seat aside Yasopp instead.
You looked around the party and shrugged, taking your drink and a seat at the bar. If he didnât leave, you had no reason to either.
Maybe he was trying to prove a point? You thought he might look for another woman whose words didnât sting as bad as yours did, but he drank and laughed with only his crew and you pretended not to see the way he looked at you. As though he was waiting for something.
You finished your drink and swung off the stool, sliding the beri across to the bartender.
âIsnât â â
âI can pay for myself.â
The cold night air was refreshing against your face but the familiar curl of cigarette smoke drew your attention to a very unaffected Beckman. You paused when you saw him, not sure if he had something to say. He looked like he did.
âRunning away again?â
âNo idea what you mean,â you retorted.
He tilted his head toward the swinging door of the tavern; each time it moved, the raucous din bled through into the night. Beckman wasnât even really what you would consider an acquaintance but heâd dragged Shanks out your bed more times than you could count.
âItâs early for you to be leaving alone,â he noted.
You didnât have any reason to explain the break in routine to his first mate. And yetâŠ
âChange of pace tonight,â you said. âI think I offended him.â
Beckman nodded. âYou did.â
âI didnât even know that was possible.â
He shrugged and offered you a cigarette. âI didnât think it was until recently. Not many people can get under his skin.â
âIâm not wrong though,â you defended yourself.
âNo,â he agreed. âYou werenât at one point. Iâve long since lost track of how many women Iâve had to drop off at port in the mornings but none of them were recent. Since he met you, thereâs been no others.â
You didnât want to admit to the way that made your heart flutter just slightly. âItâs the challenge. He tries to get me to join your merry little crew, I do, and then he gets bored in a month.â
âItâs possible.â
You didnât know why it annoyed you so much that he agreed with you but you felt the glare before you could stop it. True or not, he could have said it in a better way.
âWhy does it bother you so much then?â Beckman asked. âIf youâre so sure that itâs the truth?â
âItâs still not nice to hear.â
âBecause youâve fallen in love with him?â
You shot him a sharp look. If you didnât know quite how dangerous this man was, you may have snapped a little more venomously. How you hated him for saying the quiet parts of your worst thoughts out loud.
âI donât fall in love that easily,â you huffed. âI just donât particularly feel like joining a pirate crew to be a pretty face on the sidelines.â
âHe says you have good enough aim that you wonât be wholly useless. And Iâm sure heâll teach you more if you ask.â
You had no other defence. On a different crew, you may have believed him but youâd heard the legends of the Red Hair Pirates and their skills. You would not sail with an emperor just for the sake that he found you attractive. That was a ridiculous decision. Even without the risk that he lost interest once you gave him what he wanted.
âYou can see where weâre docked?â Beckman asked.
âHard to miss.â
âThen you may as well prove your point.â He blew a puff of smoke into the sky. âYou can be useless, let him lose interest and Iâll concede that youâre right.â
âAnd if I would rather things remain as they are?â
âThey wonât. Youâve already ruined that part.â
You almost didnât board. The Red Force came to life while you stood on the dock, shrouded in shadows and watched the sun rise over the horizon the next morning. The crew woke with complaints of headaches and aches as they got to work.
They were about to weigh anchor by the time you finally found the courage to walk forward, catching Hongo with a look right before he raised the ladder.
He stared for a second and then gestured you to board.
It was a strange feeling to step onto the Red Force. The gangplank creaked softly beneath your boots and the ship rose and fell beneath you with the easy rhythm of the sea. For years she had existed as something distant, spoken about in stories and rumours across countless ports. Yet the deck felt solid beneath your feet. The tarred ropes smelled no different from those of any other vessel. No monsters waited beyond the railings. Just a few curious glances and shouted greetings as the wind swelled her sails.
âHeâs downstairs,â Hongo said. âDrank more than usual so heâs still nursing a hangover if you want to see him.â
You looked toward the shipâs doctors. âWith how much you lot drink, Iâm honestly surprised you donât have a cure already.â
He smiled. âMaybe I do but I simply enjoy the peace in the mornings. Do you want a tour?â
It wasnât as though you had anything better to do although it did catch you off guard just how unsurprised the Red Hair Pirates seemed to be about your arrival. Not one of them even mentioned your arrival as the wind caught her sails.
Not even Beckman who gave you a simple nod.
The Red Force was kept in beautiful condition. She was evidently loved and no room felt neglected as you followed Hongo through her passages.
Hongo walked you through the galley, the infirmary, the stores, and everywhere else you might need aboard. You memorised the route as best you could, making note of scuffed boards and chips in the wood rather than considering the ship as anything more. It was easier to focus on that, you realised.
Hongo stopped at a door at the end of a passage that led through the quarters and he pushed it open with casual ease.
âThis oneâs yours.â
You frowned at the way he said it before stepping inside.
A warm, clean room waited beyond the doorway. Sunlight spilled through the small window, stirring the pale curtains where the sea breeze caught them. A narrow bed sat against one wall with blankets folded neatly across the end while an empty chest waited beside a small desk untouched by clutter. Nothing looked lived in. Nothing looked abandoned either. The room carried the strange feeling of something prepared and patiently waiting.
Guest quarters maybe? Though that hardly made sense and this didnât look like a spare room, briefly swept out when you stepped aboard. They wouldnât have had time for that.
There was an explanation that made sense though not one you fully grappled with.
âHow long has this been here?â you asked.
âCouple months now. Captain wanted it ready if you ever changed your mind.â
You tried not to let it show just how much that made your stomach twist. Heâd prepared a room on his ship in case you joined?
Still, you tried to ignore the topic for a little longer by returning to the deck after leaving your bag. You found an opportunity to lean against one of the cannons, talking to Yasopp about nothing of importance while you watched the island fade behind you.
The door onto deck opened and Shanks stepped out, dishevelled and hiding his eyes from the sun.
Naturally his crew all shouted at once in response to his obvious headache and he winced visually, which only made the others laugh harder. You couldnât help but smile, chuckling softly at their torment.
He spun at the sound, grin disappearing at once.
Your heart lodged in your throat as you stared, not certain what you should say.
âYouâre here?â
Well, he didnât have to sound so surprised.
âHave been for the whole morning,â you said, your voice quieter than you meant for it to be. âBut I thought I should let you get your beauty sleep.â
He chuckled as he walked over, smile gentler than youâd ever seen it before. His eyes glinted with barely concealed excitement as he approached. âDid somebody show you around? To your room?â
âYou set that up a while ago,â you said. âVery confident.â
âHopeful,â he clarified. âHow long are you staying for?â
You hesitated before you answered. If you really wanted to, you could disappear the next time you found yourself at an island. But something about that room sitting and waiting for you made leaving feel far less appealing than it ever had before.
âI havenât decided yet,â you settled on saying.
âThatâs fine. When you do leave, just tell me before you go.â
âI will,â you promised.
How many years had passed since you made that promise now? You thought back on it, trying to remember while you swirled the drink in your hand, Shanksâ hand still resting on your hip where it belonged.
âLost in thought?â he asked.
âLost in memories,â you corrected with a small smile.
âOh?â He leaned in close and pressed a kiss right behind your ear in the way that always made you laugh. âWhich ones?â
âAncient ones. I realised that Iâm still waiting for you to get bored of me so I can run away.â You took a sip of your drink and tilted your head toward him. âYou getting there yet?â
He laughed proudly. âNowhere close. I should probably be more careful though. Think youâd sooner shoot me than run away now.â
You chuckled in agreement and leaned in to kiss him, slow and lazy as ever. âMaybe. Iâm no longer much of a runner.â
okay i finished the next part of on the run (finally), but this is a 5.5, because I feel like neither of them were long enough, also this was where I intended to end part 5 originally. HOWEVER, because it's been so long and i feel bad, I am going to finish part 6, which i am really excited about, and do a double update.
i also have been working on not one, but two prequels for it because my mind won't stop as well as attempting to rewrite what is already here so it works better (and that's not even to mention my other wips)
Hello Please could you write a Shanks x you. They were apprentice lovers on the pirate king's ship. After the crew separated, y/n disappeared. When Shanks found out about her, she had become a marine and didn't remember it. Oh, at least she pretended not to be. But Shanks knew what to do. She wouldn't become a marine just like that. Something happened, and he would find out and get her out of that stupid organization. Please, your work is incredible. I'll send you a gift. Take care. I hope you can accept my request.
open book | shanks x gn! reader
hi anon! first of all sorry for the late reply i know it's been a while. also thank you so much!!! when i saw this in my inbox i had an idea right away, i've been chipping away at it this past month, it helps my brain to be able to hop between projects and i kept returning to this one it was very fun to write so thank you for the inspiration (and the gift, can't forget that) love you and thanks for reading the silly things i write đ
tags: lowkey hurt/comfort, very bittersweet, first love reunited years later, canon typical violence, drinking, swearing, suggestive (it always is with this man let's be honest), ambiguous ending ig (in my head it all works out lol)
wc: 5.9 k
a/n: i told myself i cannot go to bed until i finally finished this so if we see any typos or mistakes no we didn't, just know i tried lol
Shanks heard your laugh before he saw you. That sound wasn't something that he'd easily forget. It had been years, nearing decades at this point, since he'd hast heard it, but it was unmistakable. Shanks had never forgotten about you. How could he? You were his one regret. An injury that never healed quite right.
He hadn't understood his feelings for you until it had been much too late â until you'd been too far out of his reach. By the time he had realized how he felt, you had become impossible to find. He had tried, over the years he'd made many attempts to track you down, but nothing ever came up. All traces of you were gone, it'd been like you never even existed.
After all of this time, finally getting confirmation that you were alive lifted a weight from his shoulders â one he hadn't known he'd been holding. He looked around the dingy bar to find you. The prospect of seeing you again made him feel giddy. The feeling brought him back to his youth, to the last time you'd seen each other. It was far too late to change anything â he knew that â but talking to you one more time might finally bring him the closure he was missing.
When he spotted you, his heart stopped, but not in a good way. HE could barely believe his eyes. Yes, you were there, but you were wearing the unmistakable uniform of a marine. A rear admiral. There was no fucking way. He knew it had been years and things had changed, but there was no way you had changed that much. Maybe he had simply drank too much and was seeing things wrong, hallucinating even. At least that would make sense.
Shanks squeezed his eyes shut (a good substitute for rubbing them, he'd found) and looked again. The same scar on your forehead, one he'd watched you receive. The smile was the same, everything lined up with his memory. There was no more denying it. It was you. And you were a goddamn marine â or at least in one of their uniforms... interacting with the unit like you knew them.
Something was off, it had to be.
You had fucking hated the marines, and the World Government as a whole. At least you had the last time he'd seen you. He remembered the drunken rants you would go on, airing out all your qualms with the government â those rants he had always enjoyed, your animated passion had made them quite entertaining. Everything about the picture in front of him went against the very core of what he knew about you.Â
Truthfully, he had long suspected that you'd disappeared into the Revolutionary Army and that was why you'd been impossible to find. That was a seed that Beckman had planted in his mind early on, but it made perfect sense. There was more to this than Shanks knew â he wouldn't believe anything else â and he would be damned if he didn't figure out what.
The rest of the night he kept his eyes on you, clinging to the shadows. He was grateful that he was alone, it had made it far easier to avoid detection. He knew he was a wanted man, being spotted would make more difficult to decipher whatever the hell was actually going on.
As he had suspected (and hoped), you barely drank. Even when your soldiers urged you on, you abstained. While those around you were having fun and lowering their guard, you stayed alert. At one point in the night, you caught his eyes. A look of recognition and shock passed by briefly before you turned away, pretending you hadn't seen him.
Throughout it all, his feelings started to become more complex as memories of your time together came flooding back to him. You had been so close. The two of you had gone from best friends to lovers to... nothing. That still stung. Teenage heartbreak had a funny way of sticking around. It was true what they say, how you never forget your first love.
You got more chummy with your fellow marines as the night wore on, and, for some reason, it became harder and harder for him to witness. When one of them slung his arm around you, pulling you close, Shanks felt his temper flare. You were no longer teenagers and you were no longer together, he reminded himself. He had no claim to you and you had no obligation to him, but he couldn't keep watching it.
Shanks left the bar, but he hadn't given up yet. He wasn't going to let you go a second time, at least not until he got some answers.
~~~~~~~
It was all starting to get too much for you; your rowdy comrades were enough on their own, but seeing him again had been the real nail in the coffin. You needed a break from it all and you needed a damn cigarette. You excused yourself and stepped out into the cold night air, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Seeing Shanks on posters and hearing about him all the time at "work" tugged on your heartstrings enough, reigniting a sense of longing. But being in his presence? That was a whole different beast. You still missed him, there was no denying it. A part of your heart never stopped longing for him, even after all this time. He'd been your first...everything. Your naive, idealistic younger self had once thought he'd be your last too. Unfortunately, life had gotten in the way.
The disbandment of the Roger Pirates and your captainâs execution had spelt the end for you two. Heâd set out to sea, as youâd always known he would. He had invited you to come with him and you told him you would think about it, but that was the last time you saw him. You ended up wandering for a while before you found yourself in the arms of the Revolutionary Army at its infancy. With your strong ideology it had been a natural progression for you. Plus, you got seasick way too much to be a pirate â ironic now that you were playing the part of a marine.
Lighter in hand and cigarette in mouth, you walked further from the bar and way from the noise. Suddenly, you were yanked into an alleyway as you passed by, met with a question and a pair of familiar eyes. âSince when do you smoke?â Your mouth fell open, cigarette falling to the ground. Shanks. It took everything in you to not reach out an touch him, to confirm that you werenât dreaming, but the point of contact on your arm had already proven that he was in front of you.
A soft whisper of his name slipped from your lips, and he smiled at you. Shanks had always liked his name in your voice â it had matured with time, but it was still uniquely yours. âHey, Doll.â Your eyes widened in surprise as you took in the situation. Simply saying his name wouldnât blow your cover â you were a marine in the New World, of course you would recognize him â but the way your heart was racing might. At least nobody was around to witness it.
God, you hadnât been this close to him in years; breath intermingling, standing practically chest to chest. It felt almost ridiculous to still be this impacted by him, but you couldnât help it. How long had these emotions lied dormant? A highlight reel of all your memories with him started playing. You were snapped out of it when he placed his hand on your shoulder and gently called your name â your real one, not the one you had been using.Â
You needed to pull it together, you couldnât afford to slip an inch when you had come this far. But, damnit, it was hard. If you were better at this, you probably wouldâve raised attention to his presence, like you should have done before. You had to fulfill your role as a good little marine, and a good marine would alert to his presence. But the limit of what you were willing to do only went so far, and you could never bring yourself to hurt him. Any potential consequence to your silence didnât matter in the moment.
âWhat the hell happened to you?â Shanks asked, maneuvering his body in a way that would shield you from being visible to people on the street. âWhy are you a marine?â His usual easy going voice had been laced with concern and confusion. You wanted to tell him the truth, you wanted to tell him so bad. He had always been your weakness, but you had a job to do.
âAre you okay? Did something happen? Do you need help? Is someone forcing you to do this? Do they have something on you?â His continued on, uncharacteristically worried. As far as Shanks was concerned becoming a marine (especially one that had risen through the ranks) was antithetical to everything you stood for â against your very nature.
He saw the pang of remorse in your expression and realized you wanted to tell him. You werenât keeping quiet out of fear either, that eased his anxieties. Thinking about it, you had seen him much earlier but you hadnât done anything about it, and you werenât now either. It confirmed that you werenât in this position due a newfound love of the government or a sense of heavy handed justice â you had a motive. It was written all over your face, confirming that you were still you.
For some reason, the reassurance wasnât enough, he desperately needed to know what the motive was. Shanks knew he shouldnât push and that it should be enough to know that you were up to something, but that wasnât stopping him. Shanks tried listing off possible reasons and gauging your reaction, but he was getting nowhere. Either you had become much better at keeping a poker face and hiding your tells or he was severely out of practice when it came to you.
You couldnât respond or even open your mouth, you knew you could never keep things from him. Shanks had an uncanny ability to read you and figure out what you were hiding â it had annoyed the hell out of you and Buggy growing up, but here it could be harmful. Not that you didnât trust him, but there were so many unknown variables in the area, you couldnât trust your surroundings. There was no guarantee that you wouldnât be overheard or seen. Letting him touch you was dangerous enough, but you were about to do something more risky.Â
Reaching up, you touched his face, cupping his cheek. Shanks went quiet right away, his breath hitching. It was fascinating to see that you still had that effect on him. Perhaps you werenât the only one who had spent years being plagued by unresolved feelings, occasionally lying awake thinking of all the âwhat ifsâ.
But this would be your last time seeing him. It had to be. You wanted to soak it all in, remembering everything about him. The universe, however, seemed to hate that idea, calls for you rang out on the street in a drunken chorus. Your unit was looking for you. It was time to go.Â
~~~~~~~
The next day one of your subordinates had seen members of the Red Hair pirates and had decided to be a big shot about it, picking a fight. It had been really fucking stupid of him to go after members of a Yonkoâs personal crew, but he had. And now everyone had to bear the brunt of the consequences. Being dragged into an altercation, especially one involving Shanks and his crew, was something you wanted no part in. Honestly, you wanted to strangle the man for causing such a mess, but you had to act your part.
As the highest ranking official on the island and his superior, you were forced to step in and clean the mess up. The fight had already drawn blood by the time you had been alerted about it, which limited options in how to stop it without losing face. You came to the conclusion that the only way out was through, you just hoped casualties would be limited on either side.
Naturally, and unfortunately, you ended up facing the captain of the crew â a man you knew very well and someone you couldnât bring yourself to injure. It appeared that Shanks felt the same way. Neither of you were willing to put forth any effort in this fight. It was a dance for than anything. A forced performance.
You were backed into a corner, so close to your objective, but you needed to play it carefully. You knew that you were next in line for a promotion, one that you did not want or need yet. Saying no to the offer would raise eyebrows, so you had been trying to find a way to push back your consideration. It had to be done in a way where you didnât lose too much prestige either, you were walking a fine line. While you were going through the motions of a fight with Shanks, you were considering your exit strategies. Backing down and withdrawing, while reasonable, would decrease your standing too much. Being defeated howeverâŠ
Shanks was not worried about his crew at all, he trusted they could handle it, especially considering the state of the marines. What he did know was that you would not be engaging in this if you hadnât deemed it as necessary, and if that was the case he didnât mind putting on a show. You were scowling but underneath that was an expression of concentration, you were plotting and scheming. He wouldâve smiled at it if it werenât for the current situation. Watching you come do a decision was something he had always found cute, and that still held true.Â
With your mind made up and your swords interlocked, you inched closer to the yonko still wearing a forced snarl. âShanks,â you gritted out with no malice. Calling out his name had him soften ever so slightly, which you used to your advantage. âYou need to incapacitate me. Iâll give you an opening and you cut me, okay?â
The man looked at you like you had lost your damned mind, taking a step back but you chased after him. âYou need to take me down,â you reiterated, trying to convey your sense of urgency. âWhat the hell are you on about?â That was your idea? He couldnât believe that you were asking that of him. âI need you to trust me,â the angry expression on your face was undermined by the plea in your eyes. You glanced around to remind him of the situation, slowly, you watched him understand your reasoning.
The last thing Shanks wanted to do was hurt you, but you had determined that would be the best outcome. He didnât fully understand why or what you would accomplish by it, but he trusted you. A barely perceivable nod told you that he agreed. You released a sigh of relief and braced yourself for what was to come. With gritted teeth, Shanks raised his sword and brought it down; you allowed the blade to slash you. Your blood splattered onto him and he felt like he was going to be sick. Right away you collapsed to the ground; it was hard for Shanks to know how much of that was acting and how much was his doing.
âIâm sorry,â he told you as he sheathed his sword, not willing to look at you. You thanked him in a strained voice, and weakly rose to your feet. The skirmish was over. He played his part, now you had to play yours.Â
You ordered a full retreat and to treat the wounded right way -- there was about as many as you had expected, and to your sick sense of satisfaction, the man who started the mess was on the ground. The pirates got away with minor scrapes, but the same could not be said for your side. You could not believe the ego on some of these men for thinking they could go against them
Instead of going to receive treatment for the large gash that was dying your clothes red, you stayed put. Watching Shanks disappear again, reopening the scarred over hole in your heart.
~~~~~~~
Following the shit show of a fight, you had been brought to a marine hospital, where you were currently stuck. The doctors fussed over you almost to the point you wished you'd just died (not really, but wow was it a lot). You had finally been granted some peace and quiet when your transponder snail rang, and not the marine issued one.
"He's asking too many questions." The voice of the Revolutionary Army's chief of staff, Sabo, rang out the moment you picked up. The kid was nothing if not direct. "Get him to stop."
"Not even gonna see if I'm alright," you teased him before he could hang up. "You sound alive to me." The smile in his voice was audible. "Go fix it." With that Sabo cut the call. Without waiting for a response or providing any further information. That damn kid. He had pretty much always been like that, ever since you met him as a child.
It had been risky for him to call you while you were practically in a lion's den, Sabo might be bad at communicating but he wasn't dumb. The fact that he had called you here and now meant that it was a priority â whatever it was that you had to do. You had a pretty good guess as to what that had been about (Shanks), but you wouldnât draw conclusions with no further details. Either way, you had to make the preparations to set out.
Your doctors had been reluctant to discharge you, but you had managed to convince them with a made up story about your hometown and the threat of pulling rank. You were grateful for your status as a rear admiral, it had made it much easier for you to acquire the supplies you needed for a journey without anyone asking questions. The only thing that raised an eyebrow was asking about an unmarked ship, but you dropped it and chose to rent a civilian one instead.
Once you left the range of the marineâs surveillance capabilities, after completing preparations and setting off, you called headquarters for more information. To your surprise (and relief) you were transferred to Dragon himself, at least he would give you complete answers.Â
âI heard you got hurt, how badly injured are you?â He asked in place of a greeting. âNot enough to be worried about,â you responded. It was the truth, but you left out the part about how, depending on where you were going and what you were doing, you might have to push yourself. You informed him that you had a couple of weeks of explained and excused absence. You could practically hear the man nod. Before you could ask any clarifying questions about the mission, Dragon spoke.
âHe didnât tell you anything did he?â He sounded tired. Sabo was known for doing that sort of thing. While frustrating at times, you all loved him deeply. Sabo was really smart and dedicated to the cause, which was how he managed to become second in command as a teenager. âNo. He just told me to go fix it.â Dragon sighed, muttering something about âthat kid,â making you smile.
âRed Hair Shanks is asking around about you, using both names too.â You had figured that was the case, but you were a bit surprised, connecting your name and your alias like that was dangerous. Dragon had a vague knowledge of your history with the man, so he didnât bother questioning why the pirate would do that.
âYou know we canât have him sniffing around like that. What happens when a yonko asks questions? People find the answer. I donât need to tell you the consequences, but if we found out heâs doing it, the marines wonât be too far behind, which is why we gotta nip it in the bud. We canât afford to lose this operation. I donât know or care why heâs doing it, just get him to stop.â
~~~~~~~
After heâd left, Shanks had been in a mood. One that the majority of the crew had never seen before. He was quieter than usual, drinking more (an accomplishment tbh), and laughing less â it wasnât that noticeable unless you looked for it, or you were with him 24/7. he wasn't the best at playing it off tbfh. He could manage most of the time, it wasn't too hard, but when he got alone it was worse.
He felt stupid for being this affected by it all. Some of it made sense, like worrying about your well being, but drowning in emotions from over a decade ago? That felt rather pathetic. He supposed that was just what he got for bottling it all up. He had gone as far as stopping talking about you, at one point you were one of his favorite people. Not many people knew what you had meant to him at one point and even less had been around to witness it. It felt wrong to confide in others about the grave heâd dug, so he kept it to himself.
He was in his thirties for fucks sake, he couldnât be wallowing like a teenager experiencing heartbreak for the first time â he had important things to do â but thatâs what it was.Â
. You had been separated far longer than you had even known each other, he should be alright. But he wasnât. Everything was so confusing and Shanks had no clue how to sort through it all.
Not only was he stuck dwelling in the unprocessed pain from his youth, which wasnât fun by itself, but what was worse was the sinking feeling in his stomach that heâd killed you. In his mind he knew that it wasnât a fatal blow, but he wasnât entirely sure how he would live with himself if it was. The longer he went without any news on your condition the worse that feeling got.
When he was alerted of a sole, unmarked ship approaching them on the horizon a few days later, he actually thought about if it was worth checking â it was that bad. But he was glad that he did.
He borrowed someone's telescope already set at the right focus (there really was no good way to do that himself anymore) and looked. He thought that he saw you messing with the sail, but that couldn't be right. He passed the telescope to Beckman, who had (annoyingly) been keeping a close eye on him{ the past few days}, and asked the man to describe what he saw. It matched. What the fuck?
A series of emotions washed over Shanks, the man one being relief. He now knew that you were alive, and you were well enough to man a ship solo. The captain kept checking on the ship periodically, just to make sure he was right with what he saw. The closer the vessel came, the more certain he was, and the better he felt. Shanks damn near did a 180, falling back into himself.
~~~~~~~
The first thing Shanks noticed when you were climbing aboard was how you looked damn near green. The sight made him crack a smile. âStill donât got your sea legs, do ya?â The emperor teased as he helped you over the railing. You let out a short laugh, trying to control the nausea. Hopefully a larger and sturdier ship would make it better. âIs it that obvious?â
You stood on your own two feet, holding strong while you put on a brave face. But he could tell. He always could. Shanks got a better look at you and realized that there was freshly dried blood on your clothes, directly over where he had cut you. Seeing the consequences of his actions like that made him feel uneasy, but it was just like you to open up a wound like that. He sighed and looked you in the eyes. To be honest, you had forgotten about that entirely. You smiled at him sheepishly.
âGlad to see you havenât changed a bit,â he said before calling out for who you assumed was the shipâs doctor and leading you to a more isolated part of the deck. âIt seems you changed a little,â Your eyes flickered from the scars on his eye to where his dominant arm used to be, neither of which had been like that the last you spoke. âSâpose I have,â he said with a smile. He sat you down with your back to the ship before leaning against the railing in front of you.
Without your permission, your eyes scanned the rest of his body, very blatantly checking him out. Shanks raised an eyebrow at the action and you decided to just commit. âI like it. You look good. Like really good.â He laughed at the very conspicuous flirtation. He supposed one thing had changed, you had gotten more bold. âI can say the same to you, Doll. Timeâs done you well. âM almost jealous.â Shanks said, his smirk widening when you grew flustered by his words. Whatever you were going to say died in your mouth at the arrival of the doctor.
The man hoveredyou over briefly, zoning in on the bloody fabric of your clothes. âWhat happened?â The doctor asked. âI was bleeding,â you said cheekily. While the man stayed stone faced, Shanks let out a laugh, and you grinned over at him. âI can see that,â the poor doctor sounded tired, like he had to deal with this behavior all the time. âHowâd it reopen?â
âThe doctors told me to take it âeasyâ but I guess weathering a storm solo isnât easy,â you answered, removing bloody shirt. What lied below was your crude attempt at patching yourself back up.
âDarlinâ I couldâve told you that,â Shanks teased. You scrunched your nose back at him, a former habit of yours, causing him to laugh.
Shanks made the mistake of looking directly at the freshly unwrapped injury. He felt sick â knowing he was the one who put you in that state nearly made him ill. He had been feeling guilty for days, even if it wasnât fatal he still hurt you significantly. Sure, it was far from the worst injury heâd seen (especially with his lifestyle), but it was different this time, because this time it was you. And he did that.
You saw his reaction. This was what youâd been worried about. âShanks,â you called for his attention. âIâm okay.â The attempt at being reassuring was undercut by the wince from the antiseptic you couldnât hide. âSeriously,â you said looking him in the eyes, âyou helped me out. Thank youâ
He didnât know how you could be thanking him for that, but at your insistence he let it go. With one last look, Shanks swallowed the lump in his throat. âWhat brings you all the way out here?â He asked. Â
He wasnât about to complain at getting the chance to see you again, under better circumstances too, but he also was completely confused on why. It hadnât escaped him that you were there all by yourself, without your uniform, and how the little ship you had come in on had no trace of government insignia.
Instead of any verbal response, you used your eyes to point to the doctor, who was busy fixing the stitches youâd torn. Shanks nodded, understanding that it was a topic for a more private setting, so he shifted gears. âTell, whatâs new with you?â Also something you couldnât answered, for the same reasons. You had to refrain from rolling your eyes, opting to shake your head with a smile. You directed the question back onto him. Listening to him tell his stories with a big grin. This. This felt familiar.
When your wound had been cleaned, treated, and redressed, Shanks sent the doctor away with a thanks. He stood up straight and offered you a hand. âCome on, letâs go talk,â he said, pointing to the cabin with his head. You let him help you up and followed behind him, laughing when he snagged a freshly opened bottle out from under someone and continued to walk. âFor real?â The man with dreads and a bandana complained as if it was a common occurrence, which would not surprise you. âSorry, Yasopp, Iâll give it back to you later.â Shanks responded, raising the bottle above his head. âYeah, empty,â the man grumbled to himself. A loud laugh from the captain confirmed that that would indeed be the case.
Shanks led you through the ship, opening the door to his office while still holding the bottle with ease. Clearly it was a skill he had a lot of practice in lol. He held the door for you, shutting it behind him.
âYou still on duty, Rear Admiral?â He asked. You made a gagging noise at the title, âDonât remind me.â His grin grew at your reply, he had known that was out of character for you. Typically, you would never dream of displaying this kind of contempt for your position outside of the Armyâs headquarters, but you trusted this man with your life so your usual regulations were loosened. ââOr can I offer you a drink?â He continued, shaking the open bottle in his hand, spilling some in the process. âShit,â he said automatically, pouting at the loss [itâd be funny if he licked his hand bc so real bro]. âYeah, sure,â you laughed.
You sat down at the desk and watched Shanks. The posters hadnât done him justice. He was rummaging around in cabinets, looking for some glasses (because this man cared about portion sizes lol). It was almost surreal to see him again. To be able to hear his voice, his laugh, his breathing, to see his smile and the way his eyes sparkled, to be able to smell him â all things you had thought had been long lost to your memory. You pinched yourself to double check that this was really happening. The reset, while confirming you were not dreaming, set you back on track. This was not a personal visit, no matter how much you wanted it to be. You had a set of obligations to fulfill and responsibilities to uphold.
âLook⊠ShanksâŠâ You started, capturing his attention and interrupting his pouring into the glasses he had just found. âYou have to stop asking around about me.â You couldnât bring yourself to include how you should never try to contact each other either â at least while you remained undercover and the time table for that was unclear.
Shanks pursed his lips and nodded. A moment of silence passed and he poured out the next glass. âI figured thatâs why you came,â he admitted, sounding defeated as he slid a full glass of whatever heâd just poured across the desk to you. âWhat are you even doing there?â He asked, falling into his chair.
This time, the silence was your fault. You were trying to determine how much you could let him know. Shanks sighed and set his already emptied cup down. âThe Revolutionary Army or pirates?â âW-what are you talking about?â Calmly, he refiled his glass, focused on how the liquid fell. âWho are you working for? No way in hell your loyalty lies with the World Government.â He said looking you in the eyes and downing his drink.
He knew? Of course he knew. You should have known. You were practically an open book to him.Â
âArmy.â
âI figured,â he smiled, refilling both your glasses.
~~~~~~~
Over halfway through the bottle the conversation had gotten more relaxed. Over time, you had naturally moved closer together, now, you were barely a foot apart. Shanks sat on top of the desk, his foot mindlessly toying with your shin. His eyes shinned as you recounted some of the countless tales you had acquired since you last spoke. You hadnât realized how the man hung onto your every word.
When it was his turn to play storyteller, you were just as attentive. You took in his words eagerly, occasionally offering some of your own. It just felt right â so much had changed, but yet so little.
The kids you had known each other as no longer existed, you had both seen some shit and gotten rougher around the edges, but traces of them lingered. Shanks still had the same magnetic personality youâd always known, and the smile that you used to dream about, the one that had a history of making your knees weak. The damned heart of yours had been skipping beats like a child on the playground. It was all very strange. You had never thought youâd feel that way again, but that was something for you to deal with another day. Now, now, you wanted to stay in the moment before it faded away.
Shanks was deep into recounting how he met people on his crew and how long it had taken to convince one of them to join. You leaned in, looking up at him, wide eyes bright â it was a sight that shouldnât be as breathtaking as it was. He nearly faltered, but managed to power through. You had always had that effect on him and he doubted you even knew.Â
A first relationship, like yours, was bound to be rocky with ineffective communication and struggling to understand feelings. When you had unofficially departed there had been many things left unsaid. At the time, he hadnât known he wouldnât see you again, maybe if he had he would have said something different, but at the same time heâd just been a stupid kid. It had taken time to understand what you had and what heâd lost. Truthfully, he had never let himself realize the full extent of how much he had missed you.
The worst part of it all was knowing that it couldnât last. He understood that you had a life of your own and duties to fulfill, just like he did. Shanks knew full well that he wouldnât fit in the picture, and he told himself that he was fine with that, but why did it hurt?
Your words trailed off in the middle of sharing a story about the formation of the Revolutionary Army with Shanks. âYou canât look at me like that,â you told him, your voice low and guarded. âLike what?â He had no idea how he had been looking at you. âLike you still want me,â your voice had weakened, a vulnerability had crept in. The response took him by surprise but he recovered quickly.
âWould that really be so bad?â
He was right⊠would it really be so bad?
few quick things: i love sillies who don't know how to deal with emotions in a healthy productive way, i have made the executive decision that their love is like riding a bike, you never forget it, also i totally cried writing this lmao, my bad
i love you all and thank you for reading, don't forget to drink water and have a good day (or go to sleep idk)
Hi! I saw some of your posts and wanted to ask for a request. Feel free to ignore if it's something that makes u uncomfortable.
A Shanks x reader, where Shanks saves reader from drowning in the middle of the sea (reader is human not a devil fruit user), but instead of thanking him, reader tries to kill him just because he's a pirate. Later Shanks finds out that Reader was almost killed and drowned because of some random pirates and comforts them.
Oh my stars! Hi! Hi! Hi! I am so excited! You're my first request (besides my friend cherry, but she doesn't count). I have to admit, I haven't watched One Piece in a while, but I will try to do him justice :3. You didn't specify the reader's gender, so they won't have one!
Don't worry, I've got you
Red Hair Shanks x reader
hurt/comfort, near-death experience, drowning, fear, fluff, you try to stab him but he thinks it's funny, disassociation, pronouns not specified
Sea water filled your mouth as you tried desperately to stay above the waves. It wasn't storming, but the ocean in the grand line was always active and dangerous. Your clothes were dragging you down and your arms started to go weak. You took a last desperate gulp of air before sinking below the surface. You watched as the surface grew further and further away, the light dimming as you continued to sink. Your lungs burned and your chest ached. The last thing you saw was a dark figure diving into the water before your vision went dark.
"Come on... there you go." Consciousness came back to you jarringly. You were rolled onto your side as you coughed up water. Your throat burned and your eyes watered as you shook with the force of your coughing. A warm hand rubbed between your shoulder blades as you coughed up the rest of the water. "Well done!"
You looked towards the voice, arms shaking as you pushed yourself up. Red hair filled your vision. You had to blink a few times before the man's face came into focus. The first thing you noticed was the missing arm, and then it was the red hair. His face only confirmed your fears. Shanks. 'Pirate.' You looked towards the mast and saw the Jolly Roger. The Red Hair Pirates. You were on the Red Force. With pirates.
Shock kept you immobile, thoughts scattered as you looked around in a daze. The ship's doctor came to check you over before giving Shanks the all clear. For the life of you, you couldn't catch what they were saying. The water must have been stuck in your ears because it sounded like you were still underwater.
'Pirates. I'm on a ship with pirates.'
"What were you doing out in the water?" Shanks' voice snapped you back to the present, and it was like lightning had struck you. You bared your teeth in a snarl, and you reached for the dagger still strapped to your belt. You lunged at him, fury burning in your eyes.
You watched as surprise filled his eyes before glee filled his face. He caught you easily, even down an arm. You were still weak and shaking from nearly drowning. You growled at him, and he held you like someone would a feral cat. His laugh was loud and boisterous as he looked at you and your knife.
He laughed like you hadn't just tried to gut him. "Let go of me, you filthy pirate! Let me go, or throw me back into the water." You yelled at him, face burning as he continued to laugh.
"Oh, but you're so much fun! Now tell me, how did you end up in the middle of the ocean? There are no ships in sight."
You kicked out, trying to get him to let go, but you couldn't reach him. "Pirates like you." You spat, enraged tears filling your eyes. "Pirates attacked me and threw me out of my own boat. They took everything! And now I have nothing and no boat."
The two of you stared each other down. It was in that silence that you noticed the whole crew was watching. Shanks' gaze grew assessing, looking at you contemplatively before he was dragging you to his quarters. You squirmed and protested, yelling at him to put you down.
The door closed behind you, and you barely had a moment to take in the dimmer lighting and the captain's quarters before he was crushing you against his chest. You'd dropped your knife at some point, but it didn't matter, because you were frozen.
You tried to push against him, hands clawing at Shank's shirt. "Let me go! What're you doing?!" You yelled. He had a strong hold on you, his one arm holding you close. "Shhh..."
Your struggles stopped as you stared over his shoulder. The frustration and rage boiled over before simmering. All of the hate you held seemed to dissolve as he shushed you and held you tight. 'Is he hugging me?'
It felt like forever had passed before you were finally relaxing in his hold. Tears spilled from your eyes and down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of your home. A soft sniffle was signaled that you were recovering from your distress before Shanks was pulling away to look at you properly. "There, that's better, hm?"
You nodded, rubbing the tears away in embarrassment. You can't believe that you'd broken down like that. Especially in a pirate's arms. Especially Shanks'.
Shanks had left you alone in his cabin. "I'll let you pull yourself together, and then you can meet my crew! I think it's time for a party! To celebrate a new crewmate!" You didn't know if he'd hit his head at some point. Maybe he'd been dropped as a baby. (Roger did actually drop him and Buggy a couple of times when they were younger, but it was fine, right?)
You could hear the sound of the crew partying. There was loud cheering and music as they began to drink. You'd yelled at Shanks as he left the cabin. There was no way in hell you were going to join his crew!
But that thought was gone, and a small smile grew on your face. You looked around Shanks' room and pocketed a few shiny trinkets before opening the cabin door.
The cheering reached a new level as you were revealed. An arm hooked over your shoulder. It was Shanks. He was laughing, his tankard of beer tipping over, spilling onto the deck. His cheeks were red from the booze, but you could tell he was having the time of his life.
"Welcome your new crew mate, men!"
"Welcome to the crew!"
Everyone laughed and sang together. Shanks kept you close, careful to make sure that you weren't trampled by the overexcited crewmembers.
He leaned over to whisper in your ear. It was barely loud enough to hear over the noise. "Don't worry, I've got you..."
itâs been so long since iâve updated my one fic that i started OVER A YEAR AGO and i feel so bad man
i promise iâm working on it life has been crazy and i got distracted with a prequel (mainly smut) and patching any continuity errors, i also want to have more written before i share bc i feel bad having wildly inconsistent updates
