66. They're not ugly (Shanks x Female!Reader)

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╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
Artist : Jendrix - DeviantArt

Here is a little helper:
✏︎(y/n)=your name
✏︎(l/n)=your last name
✏︎(h/l)=hair length
✏︎(h/c)=hair color
✏︎(e/c)=eye color

The words in italics represent thoughts.

Requested by FeitanMarrow

Characteristics of the reader:
✏︎ Secretive
✏︎ Kind
✏︎ Daring
✏︎ Flirty
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*══╝

Free. Tonight you were free. No nosy queen to serve. No repulsive higher class comment's to tolerate. Tonight you would, as the king so arrogantly put it ; "hang out with your kind." The royal family was snob but knew how to offer their thanks to those who deserved it as the cooks when a buffet was planned, their soldiers when an attack occured. They weren't all that bad.

So anytime someone would bad mouth them based on only how they looked, you couldn't just stay quiet. "They're not that bad." On this sweet evening on Spring, the badmouth was Lynette, the owner of The Kicking Donkey. "Look at you, saying good stuff about those rats." She grabbed your hand over the counter. Lynette did have a....delicate mouth. "You do know you are in the right to complain? Everyone knows you're not treated the best. You rarely have day off, poor you! You always keep things to yourself. It br-"

"Lynette." you cut her short. "I appreciate your concern, really, I do but when I'm off I'd rather not talk about the job. Okay?" She looked down as she nodded, her brown locks bouncing on her shoulders but In her hazel eyes, you could see the light of disappointment. You had slim regrets ; couldn't you have your secret garden? "What would you like?"

"A Miami Vice, please."

"On the way." she forced a smile as she walked to other customers with her notebook to take in their drinks as well. And as multiple glasses hit themselves in the woman's hands, the doors slammed open as the loud man entered, causing a ruckus. Your (e/c) pupils glanced at the newcomers over your muscular and scratched shoulder. You smiled as you thought that, perhaps tonight could get interesting. Things got even better when you realized who those people were: the Red-Hair Pirates. Oh my. Usually, you'd keep them in check but you were off and pirates always intrigued you. How was it to defend your rights the way you wanted? How was it to be free? But isn't it painful for them to always run away, and keep exploring for all eternity? Didn't it feel repetitive? These two last questions were about what was making you stay on land.

The loud group took 3/4 of the bar and the one and only Red Hair Shanks sat on the bar stool next to you. He motioned to Lynette who turned around, your drink in hand. "A round of beer, please." The brunette nodded and smiled before putting down your drink. "Miami Vice for our Royal Guard Captain."

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" you grumbled but she had already walked away.

"A knight in shining armour?" these were the first words the yonko addressed you and they were ironic. You nodded shyly, pushing your strand of hair behind your ear, smiling. "Lynette likes to show off to strangers. She's really proud of the village's accomplishments. Obviously, she doesn't know who you are or she wouldn't have said anything."

He laughed. "And you know me?"

"Any that claim to be able to fight at least heard your name once in their lifetime, Red-Hair Shanks."

He smiled and pointed to your glass. "Funny drink you got there."

Your (e/c) gaze fell upon the fancy looking glass : within the drink, the green and red mixtures blended together as you moved the straw around, toward the man. "Were you never told to try beforehand?" He frowned an eyebrow and then two as his eyes scrutinized your scratched forearm. You didn't feel the strength to note it and chose to play dumb for now. "Don't look at me like that. It's almost as if you're accusing me of poisoning." He smiled for the briefest moment as he leaned forward and took a sip of the sour-sweet mixture. "It's....great, actually." You felt his words were true but his eyes still hadn't left your arms. The stretches, red blotches and old burns all appeared in their past glory under the weak light of the bar. "They're not fancy, I know."

"But they're not ugly."

"Huh?"

"They're not ugly."

Your mouth opened with surprise ever so lightly. Not that you were emotive; it wasn't the first time someone said something like that just...for the first time, it felt deeply honest. In his eyes, there was no sign of pity or sympathy. "They're not ugly." These words just came out as a fact for him. You frowned. He made you curious. You wanted to know more. "How is that?" He leaned toward you, so much so that you caught the smell of the booze he had recently drunk. "Well, you see," he started as he leaned even more forward, sliding his index against your forearm. "you have deep scratches everywhere on your skin. It shows you fight and...They all look old, which means you improved. Correct?"

You frowned. "You're complimenting my skills? You? A yonko? You don't know me or my abilities. I'll be blunt. This feels like a trap." you teased.

He laughed. "I'm not clever enough to come up with a plan like that!"

You brought a hand to your mouth as you held back your laughter. "That's not something you're supposed to say out loud!"

He smiled and stayed quiet for a moment. It didn't last long, however. "What are you looking for?"

Well, that was out of the blue so you stayed silent for a moment but you leaned toward him soon enough. "What do YOU want?"

A sudden chemistry submerged your interactions and so he approached even more, so close and so sweet. Giving in like that wouldn't be funny. So you slid your index between your two mouths. Your crystalline laugh filled the bar. "Look at you, acting like I'm an irresistible treat."

He didn't jolt back or looked embarrassed and THAT was intriguing.

"You're interesting, red-haired Shanks." And then you gave in.

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