#humming brook

The soul king energy has always been in him, I think.

It's his day once again! This is my 6th year of brookposting on his birthday and I'm still as full of love for him as ever. Can't believe it took this long for me to draw a guitar.

Bonus: fashion is all about subverting expectations

sanji borrows brooks microphone

“Why You Wanna Fight?”

Fandom/Character: One Piece/Brook

Summary: You get into a heated argument with Brook, so he decides to apologize by helping you blow off some steam.

Word Count: 3.1k

Tags: Brook (One Piece) × F!Reader, Established Relationship, Protective Brook, Argument, One Shot, Fluff, Smut, Angst, No Use of Y/N for Reader-Insert, Romance, Fingering (F!Receiving)

Prompt: “Why You Wanna Fight?” - Bruno Mars (Check A/N)

The door to the library swings open with a slam. You storm in, on the verge of fury, with Brook not far behind. You don’t even dare to look at him as he sternly yet gently closes the door behind you two.

“You couldn’t leave me alone for the night?” You say, a sharp tone present in your voice.

“I’ve left you alone all day, as per your request. If I let you go to sleep tonight still upset, I’d never forgive myself.”

“Then don’t! You’re not the boss of me, you know,” you retort, refusing to turn and look at him, instead opting for the tall window that’s placed in front of Nami’s desk.

You’re kind of being a brat— you know this. But you can’t help the fact that this outburst of yours is the result of several weeks’ worth of frustration.

You love Brook, you really do. But sometimes, he acts like he knows everything. And the worst part is that he doesn’t mean any harm. He genuinely just wants to help. As a result, he struggles to understand that sometimes you want to take your own risks.

Like today. In the midst of battle against a formidable Warlord, when all hope seemed lost, you came up with a desperate plan for the Straw Hats’ survival. You just had to give yourself up as bait in order to distract the Warlord.

“Are you crazy?!” Usopp demanded as you hid for cover behind a toppled pillar. You tried to answer, but were then interrupted by an explosion erupting from the battleground. You and the other few crew members you were hiding with ducked and braced for impact. The rest were off on an emergency mission to bring the Thousand Sunny around the island so a quick escape could be made.

But they were taking too long. And the Warlord was getting more dangerous by the minute.

“I have to buy us some time! Luffy is who knows where, and even if he came back, you know the Warlord won’t bother to fight him!”

Usopp grimaces. He knows you’re right— this Warlord in particular has made it painfully clear that he only ever intends on fighting women. (He seems to have this delusional desire of dying at the hands of a beautiful female. It’s creepy. You couldn’t help but make the joke to Sanji that it was him in an alternate universe— he didn’t appreciate it much.)

Usopp, although not fully convinced, says, “Alright. Nami and Robin are with the others… and you’re the only other girl here. I don’t see how we have any other choice.”

Brook immediately straightened up, making a move to grab your hand protectively.

“What?! No, dearest, I won’t let you face that monster.”

You turned to him and desperately freed yourself from his grasp.

“What choice do we have?” You yelled to make your voice heard over the chaos happening in the background. “It’ll be just for a few minutes until either Luffy comes back or the ship comes around. I have to.”

Before Brook could reply, you ran off to face the Warlord. As promised, you fended for yourself for quite a bit. But everyone has their limits. Right as you were reaching your breaking point, that was when you saw Luffy suddenly appear and take the Warlord by surprise, effectively incapacitating him. Thanks to your distraction, you and the rest of the Straw Hats managed to barely make it out of that island alive.

But Brook was bitterly upset. He approached you right after the battle to scold you never to do that again— but you passively shrugged him off, making him even more irritated. You then told him to give you some space, to which he thankfully complied. But still, you could feel his stare all day long as the crew mended their wounds and fixed the damage done. It’s been awkward. Only a few words have been exchanged, curt and quick. Yet, for the most part, you’ve avoided each other up until this point.

But night has come, and there is just one more issue to resolve.

And that leads to where you are now.

“It’s not that I’m the boss of you— it’s that I’m trying to prevent you from needlessly putting yourself in grave danger.”

“But I saved us today, didn’t I?”

Brook winced, pained that you’re still not even looking at him. Goddamn, you can be so stubborn at times.

“Yes, placing you in grave risk! How I wish you could see that!” He exclaims.

“I just don’t understand how it’s your problem,” you truthfully explain, managing to level your tone after taking a deep breath. You hear Brook sigh exasperatedly.

“It’s not that it’s my problem, love. It’s…” he trails off, leaving you surprised. This is when you finally turn around, expecting him to be in that standoffish stance of his.

But he isn’t. He looks… vulnerable. Awfully so.

Shit. How can a skeleton possibly look so heartbroken?

You immediately rush to him, consider holding his hands, then decide against it. You opt for this close proximity for now.

“I know you care for me, Brook, I know you do… I just want to feel like I have power over my own life, you know?”

Brook doesn’t meet your gaze. For a few moments, he stays awfully silent. Finally, he speaks up.

“For decades… I haven’t had to worry about being injured in any serious way. I haven’t had skin to be cut or blood to be let. But now…” His skull turns to face you. “Now I have someone that is at risk all the time. A single scratch is enough to make me fear losing you. I can’t imagine if you got seriously injured today… or worse…” He trails off, clearly not wanting to even utter what the worst outcome could’ve been.

You feel your heart ache like it never has before.

Sure, when you first agreed to be with Brook, you knew that you’d be the only living one in the relationship. And that naturally means you’ll one day die, leaving Brook alone once more. But that was always a far off possibility, a worry for another day.

You hadn’t realized just how quickly that day could’ve come had today gone wrong.

And you hadn’t realized just how unready Brook was to accept that.

But still. Boundaries are boundaries. So, you take his hand in yours, carefully choosing what words to use next.

“I understand. But— this is my life to live. I… I won’t get a second chance at it like you. This is all I have,” you explain, gesturing to yourself with your free hand, “and when I leave, I want to leave knowing I’ve no regrets.”

Brook stays still, watching you intently. You don’t miss how his gaze seems to linger on your figure for a second too long. You push away the butterflies you feel. This is an important conversation you’re having, goddamn it. You continue.

“You can’t protect me from every danger.”

“…I understand.”

Brook squeezes your hand. Then, he speaks once more.

“But please. Just… a heads up next time you go charging into battle by yourself?”

You chuckle, thankful for his acceptance.

“Of course,” you reply. Brook’s body seems to relax at the very sound of your words. A soft sigh of your own escapes your lips.

“I’m sorry for being so reckless. I wasn’t aware of just how much I was putting you through— nor how much danger I was subjecting myself to.”

Brook shakes his head, moving an inch closer to you. “And I’m sorry for having been so overprotective. I realize now that I must simply value every second I have with you even more.”

Without saying anything else, you reach each other in a warm embrace of reconciliation. God— you missed the feeling of squeezing his tiny waist. Even if you two have been in an argument since the morning, it still feels like it’s been way too long since the last time you both touched like this. You missed his firm hold, his unwavering posture, and how he lightly smells of tea. It always manages to calm you down. Without thinking, you mumble, “If you’re to remember me, I’d rather you remember me as I am now— full of life, instead of the day I inevitably become old and unable to walk without the assistance of a cane.”

Brook freezes, then pulls back ever so slightly to face you. “My love, whatever do you mean?” There’s a hint of genuine confusion that makes your heart skip a beat. He slips his fingers back into your hands. You then realize how silly you just sounded.

“Ah, well… let’s not pretend I’m not going to continue aging while you stay the same. I guess…” you trail off, looking down at where his delicate, skeletal joints hold your firm, soft fingers. “That’s the main reason I’m so reckless. Because then there’s a chance I’ll live on in your memory as being young and, well… beautiful.”

Brook uses his free hand to hold your chin so you face him once more. You can’t help but go red at the gesture.

“Out of all the things you’ve said today, that one is by far the most absurd,” he says. No double meaning, no hidden sentiments, just plain truth. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, and it dawns on you just how Brook feels about your mortality. He continues.

“Your presence in my life is a shooting star in my night sky. If I look away for too long, you’ll be gone. So— I’ll cherish the sight of you in its entirety. From your beginning… all the way to your timely end. And I’ll find you beautiful just the same, for you’re the best thing to have happened to me in this extended life of mine.”

It takes all your willpower to not go weak in the knees. It’s just… not fair how he manages to fluster you at any given moment. And he clearly knows the effect his words have on you with the way he cockily turns his head in amusement. You stammer, trying to conjure a response to such a sudden sentiment, when he leans in ever so slightly.

“May I?” His voice is enough to light a steady flame from within, low and confident. You nervously chuckle.

“May you what?”

“Show you how your beating heart is not a curse— but a blessing to be treasured.”

The fire lit inside you is now buzzing with energy, heading straight to the heat between your legs. You’re suddenly aware of the crew members that are still on board.

“But— what if someone comes in—?” You stammer, attempting to grasp at the last straws of decency and self-respect that you can. It’s already slightly embarrassing that kind words of affirmation are such a turn-on for you, there’s no need to be publicly embarrassed by being walked in on.

“I doubt they’d want to interrupt our argument, now, would they?”

Shit, he got you there. Last time they saw you, you were storming out of the dining room in sheer frustration, Brook following closely behind. They tended to mind their business when it came to your relationship, thankfully. For all they know, you two are still arguing, instead of what Brook is currently doing. Wait— what is he doing?

You realize that he has been slowly pinning you against the coffee table. His entire demeanor has shifted— like his body is barely able to contain his sheer desire for you.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been needing this. What’s a bit of steam blown off after a stressful day of battles and fights? It doesn’t help that he’s wearing such an attractive outfit*. It’s like he knew to wear that damned cravat you like so much prior to following you in here, almost as if he shamelessly planned to seduce you. You’d call him a pervert if it weren’t for the fact that you liked it so much.

“Alright. Just— be quick,” you say, letting Brook place you against the coffee table. You’re not as surprised as you should be when he laughs.

“Quick? My love, you best believe I’ll take my time to apologize for today to the best of my abilities.”

Another surge of excitement from the bottom of your stomach. Damn him and the way he can spread your legs with just a few pretty words. You feel your heat pulsing by the time he kneels down in front of you, teasingly lifting up the fabric of your skirt. A soft sound escapes from him, a mixture of amusement and awe.

“My, what a pretty pair you picked out today, darling. I could just spend an eternity here gaping at this sight alone…”

Your chest heaves with anticipation. He can be such a stupid tease. And yet, he is classically Brook. If he dedicates himself to something, you best believe he’ll go above and beyond by taking his time.

Your train of thought is interrupted by the cold sensation that appears on your knees. You glance down to see Brook place his skeletal hands at the bottom of your bare thighs, carefully tracing his nimble fingertips up to where your legs meet. You let out a shaky breath, eager for him to just make you his. His chilly touch is a welcome sensation, for your heated conversation from earlier has warmed up the small room. Likewise— he loves the heat of your skin, and is ever grateful for the heart in your chest that pumps the blood that makes it possible. He makes a mental note to check in on it, but for now, he has other pressing matters.

“Such beautiful legs,” he muses, slowly reaching the hem of your skirt once more. He’s seen your body many times before, but he doubts the enchanting effect you have on him will ever cease. He feels the energy of his soul be stirred from your quiet whimpers, allowing him to feel a faint ghost of arousal. It’s exhilarating. You can’t deny the buzzing sensation that nearly causes your legs to shake at this point, causing Brook to feel a subtle sense of pride at being the cause of it.

As he reaches your skirt, he flattens his cold palm against the skin of your thigh, causing you to jolt ever so slightly. Your sudden movement allows him the opportunity necessary to reach beneath your skirt.

Alright. Enough teasing.

Brook finally decides to put an end to your suffering by tugging your panties to the side, exposing your folds to him and to him alone. The sudden air of the room causes you to shiver, doing wonders for what is surely already a pulsating mess down there. Judging by Brook’s stunned reaction— it definitely is.

He softly groans, followed by a mischievous, “My, already so wet for me? If I knew how much an argument would turn you on, I’d have picked numerous more.”

“Sh-shut up,” you manage to stutter, battling the butterflies in your stomach. He obediently obeys, finally making a move.

Let’s get one thing straight. Brook’s fingers are long. Like, ridiculously. So just when you think he’s done, he just keeps going. You can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips as he smoothly enters you, slick warmth enveloping his two cold fingers. They reach your cervix almost instantly, and you manage to bite back a moan— but it’s all for naught when he presses his thumb against the sensitive spot that is your clitoris. You then finally let out a desperate whine at the pressure, a subtle sign that tells Brook to keep going.

He continuously curls his fingers upwards against your wall along with the continuous stimulation of your clit. It’s almost like a pinching motion— and you go crazy for it. Slightly complicated handiwork has never been an issue for Brook. He’s a guitarist and a pianist, for crying out loud. Instinctively, your back arches from the table and towards his touch, granting him even better access that you didn’t even think was physically possible.

What’s more, he’s begun to toy with the bottom hem of your top, using your arched back to his advantage by slipping his fingertips underneath and upwards to your chest. You don’t even have the opportunity to properly register where he’s going with this, when suddenly you feel his large palm grasp one of your tits. With a tight squeeze, you let out a loud, erotic moan.

“Shh, shh… wouldn’t want to wake the others now, do we?” Brook coos, obviously taking great pleasure in your disheveled state. Your chest rises up and down as you attempt to control your breathing, but all you can manage is to bite your lip and let him continue. You just know he’s smirking. You’re so going to get him later for this.

“There we go. That’s my good girl.”

Little by little, he leads you backwards on the coffee table until you’re eventually sprawled back against it in a panting, whimpering mess. He bends over you to continue having a good grip on your sensitivities. Goodness, you’re a sight to behold. He still can’t believe that you’re allowing him be the one to make you feel this way, that he’s the only one who you’re showing this side of yourself to.

“Like a goddess of creation itself,” he mumbles, pushing you even more to your impending climax. The pressure that’s been building up at the bottom of your abdomen begins to seek release. What can you say? You’re a sucker for sugar talking.

In a swift motion, Brook dedicates all his attention to where he rubs your clit in a circular motion. “There we go. Feel it all out. Let your blood rush to places you’ve never felt before. Cherish the blessing of a beating heart.”

All control is lost as you finally let loose of the tension in between your legs. It’s like a wave of release washes over you in an ocean of passionate pleasure. Brook holds you with his free hand, his skeletal fingers gripping the incline of your arched back, offering you the reassurance necessary to come undone before him. As you work on regaining your breath, Brook softly murmurs, “There aren’t merely enough words in the English language to describe your beauty and the effect it has on me.”

You huff out breathlessly, placing a loving hand upon his cheekbone. “Is that true? Even when I’m in a state of sensational disarray?”

He chuckles, resting his forehead against your own. “Especially then.”

A/N: My first smut! I was extremely shy to post this, but I finally managed to gather up the courage to do so. (That’s the reason why it took quite a while hehe.) Additionally, I was heavily inspired by Bruno Mars’s new song “Why You Wanna Fight?” from his new album— honestly, the whole album is such a banger and gives me HEAVY Brook vibes, I heavily recommend it! Hope you enjoy! 🍽️

*This is the outfit I had in mind for Brook in the fic! I absolutely adore looking at pictures of Jimi Hendrix and imagining Brook wearing his outfits. 🫶