Pirate England x Reader : Flying Bunnies.

"Don't dwell on the past ______." Greg whispered into your ear softly.
You nodded showing him you understood. Memories still clouding your mind.


You swivelled the barstool you sat on behind the counter leaning comfortably forward, looking past the men who sat on the opposite side drinking and chatting quietly. Watching a blonde boy, who looked a little older than yourself by a year or two curiously, your small idle thoughts swirling around your captivated mind. He sat three tables away from the bar with a young red-haired man who appeared to be his older brother, they had started to become regulars and every visit caused curiosity to gnaw hungrily at your brain. Studying the boy you picked out the details, he had unkempt sandy blonde hair which stuck out in interesting angles the light reflecting causing a highlighted effect, his skin was fair and his eyes were a shining emerald green. He stared up at the young man next to him with selected attention before glancing around; His eyes lingered on yours for a brief second, then looking back to the red-haired man. You watched he expression on his face change slightly, his eyebrows which were rather thick in your opinion, were most noticeable as they crashed towards each other into a scowl.


"Aye, 'nother round here lad!" The boisterous red-haired man shouted with a thick Scottish accent.


The man swayed slightly in his seat, he was surrounded already by an collection of empty glasses. The boy looked even more irked than before.
"For the love of Flying mint bunnies, I think you've had enough big brother. You can barely sit straight!" He muttered with a British accent.
The Scotsman ignored the boy's grumpy plea and eyed one of the more 'choice' waitresses, He sat smirking devilishly until she walked past. She looked up at the towering man with flaming red hair, his calloused hand rested on her shoulder. His other hand mischievously placed on the hem of his kilt.
"How do you find this Haggis?!" He cooed drunkenly gruff, his accent and thick as the hairs on his legs as he lifted up the kilt to reveal more of Scotland than needed to be seen.
She gave the Scotsman a look of complete horror and slapped him across his freckled cheek; head turning sideways from force, a drunken expression of bliss snaked across his face with a red hand mark. You watched attentively as the poor waitress called Maria stormed towards the bar which you and your father were sitting behind. Your father was a kind man with some 'interesting' ideas. Of course it had been modern times but your father insisted on creating an old pub effect, where the waitresses wore Dirndls that looked as if they came out of a German festival. It was popular amongst both Locals and Tourists, who found the idea of the pubs theme was 'interesting'. Your father had then left his seat overlooking the whole pub and followed after the more than unimpressed waitress. You sat there looking at the boy of an age around 8 who looked extremely embarrassed by his older brothers actions, His brother happened to be on the floor. Out cold.
This memory of that flaming red-haired Scotsman and the sandy blonde Brit stayed in your memory for years, at the age of 20 you recalled it grinning lightly. Rubbing the tattoo of the Three winged bunnies on the nape of your neck. You had them done when you were 18; your brother finally gave in and let you get it done. You were positive that if you father had of been alive he would have put up a better fight.

Since your dad had died the pubs name had changed. Your brother reflected it would be hilarious to call it 'Beaded Bunnies'.

Your father used to call you Beads; after all you did have beads braided into one side of your bangs. Bunny was a newer nickname, the newer locals noticed the three bunnies tattooed onto your neck. You called them Flying Rose Bunny, Flying Mint Bunny, and Flying Blueberry bunny.
Remembering the quote from the sandy haired boy from years ago you were inspired to tattoo this into your memory and skin forever, you even added a purple and pink bunny to be mates with the green one.
So the name stuck, You were either called Beads by the older regulars who had known you since you had been very young, or Bunny, By the newer Regulars and people just stopping by.


"_________, C'mere!" It's was your brother. He was taller than you, with jet black hair he reminded you of your father so very much.


"Yeah what's wrong?" You asked strolling over past all the customers.


"New customer, Show them to a seat... They do look a little weird though; maybe they came for Pirate week..." Dustin whispered to you with a look that really had you thinking that this guy must be pretty bad.


The layout of the pub had been designed so that when a customer walked into the doors They would be at a reception desk with joined into the bar, The bar was hidden by dividing screens which had a generous gap giving a snippet of the actual pub area. The long bar that sat along the wall had a books and other motel needs closer to the entrance, it then stretched to the dividers where a small gate divided the bar from the reception, then continued past the Dividers into the bar.
You continued to the front doors past the dividing screens, and there stood a tall blonde man, his hair tied back into an elegant ponytail, He wore the most intricate blue pirate costume you had ever seen. His sky blue eyes drilled into your (e/c).


"You do realise, Pirate week ended 3 weeks ago." You scoffed with a raised eyebrow.


What kind of ignorant prick is he? You thought studying his attire, It was extremely flashy and you had to admit it was extremely beautifully made.
Dress up week had a different theme every year, It had been your fathers idea and everyone loved the thought. So one week a year everyone including the regulars would dress as the theme dictated. However since the death of your father this had stopped, only the bartenders and waitresses dressed up. The newer regulars had heard the old stories and never dared to ask why this custom had stopped.


"Mon – ami, I am not ere for zis Pirate week. I am a pirate." He scoffed back, flashing a grin with a small wink.


"Okay Mister French Pirate complex, Get out. I find your attire... Offensive... If you refuse I will have to resort to violence." You growled at him.


He roared with laughter as he looked at your small stature. He continued to advance towards you, making you feel more uncomfortable by the minute, your brother caught on quickly stepping between you just as the prick had outstretched his hands in an inappropriate direction.


"Beads said leave." He commanded harshly glaring into the man's eyes.


"You challenge Moi?"


"Leave. Now"


One of the largest most built regulars stood up in front of you.


"You heard the two... Leave now." He growled dangerously as he flexed his biceps which were the size of the man's waist.


The Frenchman eyed his muscles and backed out of the Pub.


"Until next time Mon chéri pétale de rose~" He cooed to you. Flashing you a perfect smile He then left, his thugs in tow


Huffing indignantly you turned heel and strutting back your dress swaying slightly as you did so. Dustin in tow he placed his calloused hand on your delicate shoulder.


"Don't let them get to you ______." He looked seriously at you. He only ever used your name if he was serious.


You nodded to show you understood.