Once a Day [Shanks x Reader]

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(Photo: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/fa/1c/95/fa1c952b89549a85b83f816d3b186b85.jpg).

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The warm breeze blew your hair away, and you used your fingers to comb it back into place while eying the newspaper the News coo had delivered that precise morning.

Admittedly, the information was surprising, although, knowing the kid as well as you did, you should had seen something like that coming.


"Oi, Shanks," you called, using your knee to separate yourself from the railing and marching in your captain's direction.


The redhead was sat against the ship's mast, enjoying the clear sky and the sunbeams for the first time that week. His eyelids fluttered, his caramel orbs soon fixated on your form with that characteristic tinge of playfulness.


"(Y/N)-chan~."


"Don't chan me, I'm still mad about what you did," you scoffed, folding the newspaper in half and crossing your arms over your chest.


Coming to a stop in between his feet, you were sure that your glare could drill holes in his head if you put enough effort into the task.


"Don't be so resentful, (Y/N)-chaaan. It was just a little joke~." The corners of his eyes wrinkled as a wide smile plastered on his face.


You quirked an eyebrow, not finding the subject remotely as amusing as he did.


"My hair is red, Shanks, that's not a little joke."


"Now we match!"


You bit your bottom lip to suppress the start of a smirk.

Shanks had that effect on you. He could get on your nerves and would still make you smile despite how angry you were. Besides, he had such a quick mind whenever it came to most of your conversations that his answers took you by surprise most of the time.


"You're an asshole," you grumbled.


"Okay, okay, I apologize, please forgive me." He pouted, and stretched his hand for you to help him stand up.


You sighed but took it, preparing yourself to use enough strength to compensate for the weight difference, but your captain pulled, bringing you to his level.

He smirked playfully as you straddled him, the tips of your noses brushing and his amber orbs meeting yours with a mixture of amusement and vaguely hidden lust.

Someone whistled in the background, and, as if on cue, you rolled your eyes and let go of his hand, straightening back up and sitting on the lower part of his thighs, denying him contact with any part of his body he might have liked to, much to his dismay.


"Had there been any possibility of me forgiving you today, you just blew it."


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