#the wording makes it seem like you just care about shanks

[beanghostprincess]

Sorry I really didn’t mean I’m attacking you or your ship. I also don’t think it’s a red flag, most gay men I saw don’t really like shuggy either. I mean, probably the entire world prefers any other shanks ships? On almost every site, con or store there’s always tons of mishanks and Bennshanks and never shuggy. I get it’s also about dynamic and connection those two pairs have, like with the parallels to other ships the base for them is extremely strong. But the minimal shuggy does speak volumes. I genuinely wonder about this. Shuggy is unpopular and again while I do agree there’s strong connection between “rival ships” I don’t think that’s the only reason… and like…. Buggy is ugly, isn’t he? He doesn’t have cool style, doesn’t look cool, makes ugly faces all the time, also is a coward. I like him as comedy character and shanks brother though!

I understand where you're coming from when you say Shuggy is unpopular amongst some people (actually, before anyone says anything. It IS an extremely popular ship in Japan but I have seen A LOT of hatred towards it in this side of the fandom, so that's what I'm talking about when I say it's unpopular). I have talked about this before. And I have said a lot of times that the reason why is often because people only focus on looks and Buggy is not conventionally attractive for the fangirly twinkified sexualized gaze numerous sides of the fandom and the general audience seek. Like, I am not forcing people to ship them, but I have had people admitting the only reason they don't is because of the looks, and I personally believe that is a very (despite valid, of course) dull way of seeing ships. And respectfully, I don't care that other gay dudes or all the people in the world agree with you. It's not a red flag to not like Shuggy, what it is a red flag, though, is to come into people's inboxes to do what you're doing!

I know you don't mean to attack me or anybody who ships them but your tone does wonders showing otherwise. Your perception of shipping is just based on looks and the fact that you came here, to a blog that explicitly ships these characters and is fond of Buggy, talking shit about one of the characters' looks... Is just straight-up mean and not following the social etiquette this site should follow, which is "let people do whatever the fuck they want".

So with all due respect, what makes you think I won't find your questions offensive in any way? Because you keep talking bad about a character I like in my inbox for literally no reason. Do you expect me to admit that the ship is unpopular because Buggy is ugly and boring? Well, I do admit people view him as ugly and only a comedy relief, but I don't. Expecting others to find beautiful and interesting the same things you do is having a very close-minded vision that One Piece's plot itself is against.

By the way, you're showing that you clearly don't like Buggy in the slightest because you're only talking about the traits that you find negative about him. But of course, you like him as comedy relief. Of course, you like him as a character in Shanks' story and not as a character himself. Despite Buggy having lots of depth. Your perception of these characters seems, in my opinion, extremely empty and, as I said, only based on looks. And you're free of shipping whatever you want however you want! But please, please, don't do this anymore. This is just petty high school mean girl behavior. Even Regina George would word this in a more polite way.

So, as a little advice for you, let people ship whatever they want without questioning their favorite characters! I am sure you will live a more peaceful life!

[innerfare]

I Love You - Part 2 

Summary: Who says I love you first? How do you say it?

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Crocodile, Mihawk, Corazon, Marco

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Shanks: The two of you have known each other for years before the words ever leave his lips. You’ve been through so much, and you never felt the need to put a label on it. But one night, you’re both swinging in a hammock on a beach, you in his arms and him sipping a bottle of booze, and he says out of nowhere, “you know that I love you, right?” You think he must be drunk but he insists he’s not, telling you it struck him recently that he’d never told you before and he really should in case something happens. He wants you to know how he really feels and how much you mean to him. 

Beckman: He’s always visiting you on your home island, either finding excuses to plot a course straight to you or sneaking away for a few days. It’s only as he’s leaving one evening that it strikes him: he loves you. It takes him a very long time to decide to tell you. Given his lifestyle, a relationship isn’t exactly easy, and he would be putting you in danger should anyone learn your association to him. Plus, he enjoys his freedom. He works it over in his head for months, to the point Shanks even asks him about what’s bothering him, though Beckman doesn’t fess up. But he just can’t get you out of his head. He can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can’t even focus in a fight. One late night, he returns to his cabin to find Shanks waiting. His captain has puzzled out what has the first mate in such a state, and Shanks tells him to go take care of his business. Beckman agrees and turns up at your doorstep at three in the morning with some flowers he picked on the side of the road because he felt awkward showing up empty handed. You lead him into your kitchen and make him something to drink, thinking something horrible has happened, only for him to confess his love for you. He’s not shy about saying it after that, always making sure to tell you when he greets you and says goodbye, as well as several times in between. 

Crocodile: He despises the word love, would never even utter it except to mock people who use it. He thinks it’s weak, thinks men who profess love are sniveling and pathetic, thus the reason he despises himself for feeling it. The emotion creeps up on him slowly but surely, and he beats it back and bottles it up for as long as he can, staying up late at night with a bottle of whiskey because laying in bed makes him think of you and your mischievous smile. Only when he is locked up in Impel Down does he finally, begrudgingly admit to himself that he feels deep affection for you, which he painfully admits to you one night after he breaks out, bracing himself for you to reject him, laugh at him, or spurn him in any way. When you tell him you feel the same way, he decides that is that and sees no reason to ever repeat it, your mutual and abiding affection one of his most closely-guarded secrets. 

Mihawk: He doesn’t tell you when he feels it, however overwhelming the feeling may be, so you’ll definitely be the one to say it first. This man is the king of unspoken affection. He’d sooner die than draw his sword and cut through all the tension that seems to follow him. That being said, he does say it in other, more subtle ways, primarily referring to you as, “my love,” and leaving it at that. When you finally tell him you love him, he doesn’t even say it back, simply burying his face in your hair and saying, “I’m glad to hear it, my love.” He shocks you by saying it back a few months later, though you don’t say it back, instead pulling him in for a kiss. And it continues like that, only one of you ever saying it, the other responding with affection. 

Corazon: A victim of near insta-love, he knows better than to tell you how he’s feeling when he first meets you. He tells himself to wait a month, and then at the one month mark, it seems premature, so he pushes it to two. Then, he pushes it to three, and then to four, and then to five. He thinks he’s good at hiding it, and normally, he is good at hiding his emotions, but with you, it’s all out in the open. You catch on pretty quickly to how he feels, have even seen him start to form the words only for his face to fall and him to turn away. Eventually, one night, you ask him, “why haven’t you told me you love me yet?” He’s shocked to discover you know the truth, and when you laugh and tell him it was pretty obvious, he laughs, too, his heart soaring when you tell him you feel the same way. He’s overwhelmed by the feeling that he has a family, something he’s been desperately wanting since he was just a little kid. 

Marco: He says it first. He’s loved and lost so many people, formed the family he never had as a kid and lost so many members along the way. And he’s done a measure of living, enough to know that love should never be hidden. So when he realizes he’s in love with you, he swallows all of his fear like a seasoned professional and tells you exactly what’s on his mind the next time you two have a quiet moment alone. He’s soft and gentle in that moment, too, just as he is in all the moments you two share, just the two of you. He says it often, always either turning away or burying his face in your hair when you say it back, overwhelmed with giddiness he’s certain a man of his age and standing should not be feeling.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[lewiscarrolatemybrain]

Y’know what would be hilarious?

Ace does not give Zoro a shovel talk. He watches, and he observes, and in the end he decides that that poor dumb swordsman is so clearly whipped for his idiot little brother that drawing attention to it would be cruel. Luffy can look after himself anyway, and honestly? His whole crew seem pretty protective of him. He’s made good friends. If he and Zoro ever somehow do get their shit together, Ace will be happy for them.

Sabo does not give Zoro a shovel talk. He’s been gone for so long, and by the time he’s back in Luffy’s life Luffy and Zoro have already been an item for a while. As much as he wants to stand menacingly at Luffy’s shoulder and demand that Zoro have him home by ten, it’s too late for that. He doesn’t need to threaten Zoro anyway; the guy is obviously gone for Luffy, and if he DOES make Luffy cry, Sabo will just kill him. No need for the build-up.

Garp does not give Zoro a shovel talk. Or at least, not in so many words. The man does seem to take extra pleasure in beating Zoro up whenever they cross paths, but it’s unclear if that’s actually happening or if it’s just in Zoro’s head. If Garp brings up their relationship at all, Luffy doesn’t say, and Zoro doesn’t ask.

Dragon does not give Zoro a shovel talk. He stands in a shadowy corner and stares at Zoro very intensely for a very long time, and then he silently walks away without Zoro ever even knowing he was there.

Shanks does not give Zoro a shovel talk. He just slaps him on the back of the head, hands him a beer, and wishes him good luck. Then he tears up when Luffy asks him to be at the wedding.

Dadan does not give Zoro a shovel talk. Why should she care about who that brat shacks up with? Ignore that she’s cleaning her guns threateningly on the table. She’s a bandit. They do things like that. She does not care at all that Luffy is dating Zoro, and if Zoro breaks his heart then that’s Luffy’s own fault for falling for some roguish swordsman. None of her business.

Makino… Makino gives Zoro a shovel talk. Plz imagine Makino smiling sweetly and coming to stand in front of Zoro while he's sitting so that they're eye level. Plz imagine Makino looming menacingly over Zoro. Plz imagine Zoro letting her do that. Plz imagine the Staw Hats all watching as The King Of Hell falls all over himself to “yes ma’am” and “no ma’am” and “right away ma’am” this tiny non-combatant with zero fighting skill or experience.

Plz imagine Luffy just nodding approvingly. That’s Makino! Of course you have to respect Makino! She’s Makino!

[zwhoreo]

mommy kink luffy? 👀

ok so I don’t think luffy would ever actually use the word mommy but I think the rest of the kink can apply hehehe

nurture me - luffy x f!reader

smut

summary: missing the comfort of a nurturing female figure as a child, luffy sometimes turns to you to get that feeling back. and sometimes, he wants sex

contains: mommy kink (the word mommy is never mentioned), very innocent luffy, he’s pretty sub in this one, soft dom reader

words: 2k

_______________________________

Luffy is upset today, he’s not sure why, he’s feeling this rush of some sort of unplaceable loneliness even though he isn’t alone at all, surrounded by people to love and spend time with and hug. He had fallen and broken a stack of glasses in the kitchen yesterday, and he was chastised for his clumsiness, smacked by Nami, shoved out by Sanji. He had cut his arm on the glass, nothing deep, nothing a couple bandaids from Chopper’s office couldn’t fix, but it still made him a little sad and distressed for some reason. He needed comfort but pushed it away and forgot about it.

So now he’s sitting on the bow of the ship and picking at the bandaids. He wants to go bother you, he needs some comfort, a hug from you seems to be an immediate fix for times like these. And maybe something more, he thinks, like playtime, sort of.

You’re reading a book Robin gave you, curled up on your cabin’s chair, the porthole open next to you for that crisp sea breeze. You’re delighted at those little sandal steps, your door opening, large, glittery eyes looking at you excitedly.

Luffy hops on your bed, rolling on his back and kicking his legs and reaching for you, a teasing grabbing motion with his fists. Absolutely adorable.

You lean over to take his hand, he squirms and giggles at the contact and he’s smiling so brightly.

���[naaame]…” he whines, trying to pull you to him but you pull instead, still holding his stretched arm as you sit back in the chair. He pouts and stretches his other arm out to you.

“No pulling, Luffy,” you say, gently removing one arm from your waist knowing his intention to yank you into bed.

“Please… can we please cuddle… I wanna really bad…” Luffy’s squirming again, begging, you just can’t resist him.

You set down your book, walking over to your bed and sitting by him which makes him squeal in delight and open his arms for a hug. You lay back and pull him up onto you, letting him bury his head in your chest and find a comfortable position as you pet his hair.

He likes to be nurtured. It’s a childish part of him that comes out sometimes, especially when he thinks about his old village and Ace and Sabo and Shanks, when he misses getting to play and explore all day and just be a kid. But he didn’t really have anyone back then to take care of him like this. Makino was the closest, he got a taste of the affection a mother could bring, but mostly he was just raised by himself and his brothers, and bandits, and he wasn’t really ever cuddled or held when he was young. So now you’re his person, he gets to be extra close to you and he’ll never be too much.

And usually he’s more dominant, even in his innocence and softness, he’s your captain and you’re his to take care of and keep safe, he picks you up and carries you and holds you against his chest, you’re his, he likes being in control.

But that doesn’t have to be always.

Those times like now where he paws at you and lays on you all slack like a baby, you just curl up with your arms around him and murmur comforting things in his ear. There’s those deer eyes again, searching, he’s leaning in to kiss you and you catch him halfway with his cheeks squished in your hands. Arms circle your waist needily and this poor boy has squirmed his way between your legs because he wants friction, maybe.

“Lu, hun, what do you want?” you coax gently, tracing his shoulders, you know he wants you so bad but he has to try to say what he wants if he wants something, that’s what you’re teaching him.

“Um… I dunno, I guess uh…” Luffy’s mind is cloudy, he wants your body but he doesn’t know what to ask for so when your thigh comes to naturally rest between his legs he just settles for this, at least.

You laugh lightly as he begins to grind on your leg, hips rutting, rhythmic but messy, he starts making these little whimpering noises in your ear as he rubs himself on you like a puppy in heat. You let him, hugging gently and just laying there listening.

“I… mm! I wanna suck your breasts?” He seems excited to have found words, talking casually as he continues to get himself off on your thigh, aching and growing beneath his pants. You can’t refuse him.

“Sure, hun.” This is perfect because you’re a little tired. Let your boy enjoy himself and relax with him and it’ll all be ok. And you pull off your shirt, you let him see you, and he grins before squeezing you tightly and latching on, suckling gently on your nipple while looking up at you with stars in his soft brown eyes.

“S�� good…” he growls, mouth full, nuzzling and gripping against you.

You lift him into your arms after a few minutes, when he gets teeth-y with your skin, he whines at the loss of contact with his mouth but lets you pick him up and place him in your lap, squeezing his face in your hands, giving him a caring hug.

“Luffy, baby, you want more, huh? C’mon…” You place your hand on the small of his back, rubbing his skin.

“Mmf… I wanna put my dick in you,” he says, voice in the most amount of innocence he could possibly sound with those words. You weren’t expecting this, usually he’s more innocent when you two play, when he asks for something, but you won’t complain.

You smile. You pet him lovingly, gentle praise. You kiss his cheek and then his mouth and he’s still in a teething mood so you need to pull away when he bites your lip, but you press his face into your neck because you always like biting there.

“Want some help?” you coo to him, tugging at his clothes, and he nods happily against you and makes a tiny sound.

His shirt is open, easy to slide off. Glistening warm skin meets the cool sunlight of the porthole, wave reflections, he’s so beautiful when you can see his bare shoulders. You take a moment to lean in and kiss them. And then his jeans, you have to sort of pick him up again to unbutton and remove them and his cock slaps your wrist, no underwear, you ignore your aching need to touch it and continue to take care of him, settling his twitching hips and tossing his clothes to the side.

Soft and bare, dripping with sweetness and innocence, he’s draped on you, sitting in your lap, naked and waiting to be touched in a gentle way.

Your shirt’s off. Now your jeans, your panties, Luffy starts moaning and thrusting into nothing at your scent and the feeling of your skin but you have to calm him.

“No, baby, let’s be patient ok?” You poke his cheek and he whines but just curls into you a little more, trying to wait like you’ve taught him.

You switch the positions of your legs, you’re on his lap, propped up on the bed, sort of straddling him, he’s sitting in front of you with his cock rubbing through your wetness, eyes hooded in pleasure, he’s waiting for your command because he’s yours to comfort and hold and protect right now.

“[naaame]…” he whines in such a little voice, staring up through his hair, begging.

“Move like this…” you murmur, lining up his hips so he can rub against you for a while, and get you wet. He does so in a careful way, biting his lip as he tries not to plunge within you just yet. You’re still so tired, you want lazy, careful sex. But Luffy’s the one who needs to be looked after and cared for right now. Nurture me, is what his eyes say, mind in a space so far away.

So once you’re warmed up and once Luffy’s being tortured by need and the rising and falling of his chest is pressed to you with brutal pressure, you smile and reach down to line him up yourself. He squeaks as he feels the touch of your hand down there, and the cocoon of velvet enveloping him, you can move just be gentle like I taught you, your smile says.

So he does. Instinctual thrusting fueled by pure love and appreciation, his hands reaching to grip your ass and lift you up more against him, he’s getting a little more dominant but just in an excited, playful sort of way. You hold him, you put your arms around his shoulders and breathe in his scent.

“So good, Lu, you’re doing so well…” you whisper in his ear as he works you into pulp, grabby hands, needy whines.

He likes to feel grown up but still be cared for. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing but he likes to be shown how. He likes to be cradled but to feel you so deep, his infinitely loving girlfriend who knows his needs, who would give him the world.

It comes eventually, that confusing knot in his stomach, now is the time he wants to be held the most. You squeeze him so tight and let him squirm in your arms as you carry him in coaxing gentleness through his powerful climax. He drips within you, you’ve claimed him with the comforting warmth of your body.

You make sure to pull him out and wipe him off and even in his hazy, submissive state he still makes sure to rub your hips and thighs and make sure you’re ok and nothing hurt you. “Was that good? Did I do good?” he murmurs as he squirms onto his back in your arms like a cat looking for affection.

“So good.”

Luffy’s restless now, he needs to occupy his mouth which he often does before sleep for self-soothing, and he’s going to nurse right now, curled up in your arms. So he reaches for your breasts again but that’s when you see his arm.

“Hey Lu, what’s that? Did you hurt yourself?” You lift his forearm for examination and he blushes in slight shame. Because you then say, “when did this happen? You shoulda told me!”

“Um, yesterday. I dunno… I fell and broke some glasses and I thought you’d get mad, it’s just a scratch, I’m fine.” He avoids your eyes.

“I’d never be mad at you for something like that, it’s ok, accidents happen.” You run your hand through his hair. “These bandaids aren’t fresh, we gotta get you new ones, hun…”

“N- no! Don’t leave… I don’t wanna let go!” Because he’s attached to you in a tight embrace and can’t picture a world without your arms right now.

“It’ll just be a minute-”

“Carry meee! Please, please, please-” He’s scrambling up your body as you begin to sit up so you let him. You stand up shakily because Luffy is glued to your back, arms around your shoulders and face buried in your neck.

You get bandaids from your cabinet, you have to pry Luffy off of you and let him curl up in your lap again so you can gently change clean and re-bandage his scraped arm. This protective kindness lulls Luffy, it makes him sleepy and happy and like he needs to take a long nap with you which, from the beginning, is what you were excited for. Pulling a curtain over the porthole you’re back to laying on your bed, letting Luffy drift off with his mouth on your breast, calming and grounding for both of you. His hands find yours in his dreamy state, holding on, wanting you to know how much he loves you, in a quiet and innocent way.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Old love never rusts. Shanks has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]

Shanks's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Shanks knows he has no right to ask this question. Not when he's the one that up and left in the middle of the night, without even a word of warning that could soothe your aching heart. Nevertheless, he can't help but indulge his yearning:

"How is she?"

Mihawk raises his eyebrows barely noticeably. He seems surprised that after Shanks's disappearing act and a decade of dead silence, he's still interested in you, even if motivated by pure courtesy. But before Mihawk answers the question, he notices something strange in the red-haired captain's eyes, a sensation he's rarely seen in them before - sadness.

Interesting, how some things never quite change.

"Well," Mihawk answers laconically. Instead of indulging Shanks's lovesick longing, he wishes the man would finally accept his utter failure and move on. You're married to Dracule and this isn't going to change anytime soon. If ever.

"Wells tend to be cold and musty," Shanks jokes but his tone is far from lighthearted. In fact, his voice sounds strained like he's holding back tears. "I hope she fared better with you."

The Red-Hair pirates laugh at their captain's joke but quickly turn quiet again. Something about the tense confrontation makes their good humour virtually nonexistent. Especially when Mihawk gives them a curt, cold glare. He doesn't find his past rivalry with Shank to be funny in any way.

"She has everything she could ask for," he says with a sense of finality to his words. Mihawk feels himself growing irritated.

"Good, good..." Shanks nods, lost in thought for a moment. He clenches his hand, giving away the unpleasant tension inside his chest. The captain has promised himself to let go of you. Alas, here we are. "Is she happy?" he suddenly asks.

Mihawk furrows his thick eyebrows in an angry frown. It's almost insulting for Shanks to have any doubts regarding your well-being under the Warlord's care. "What sort of question is this?"

"A 'yes or no' sort."

"Then yes," he drones his words.

Shanks forces a wide, playful smile. There's agony hiding in his eyes and as though Mihawk is a blind man, he's trying to play it cool and appear unaffected. The truth is, the red-haired man is holding on by a thread.

"I bet she talks about me all the time," Shanks says in faux amusement. His voice almost doesn't shake. "We both know I've always been her favourite."

"And you'd lose." Mihawk begins to feel an insidious satisfaction from the distress of the other man. "In fact, I doubt she thinks about you at all."

"You keep telling yourself that, hawk-eyes."

"This misguided flattery is much unwarranted," Mihawk warns him. "No one bets on losing dogs."

But she would, Shanks thinks to himself. She always did.

Short fingernails leave bruising marks on the inside of Shanks's palm as he's clenching his fist. Once again he's reminded that when it mattered, he was a coward and fled from the overwhelming, crippling love he feels for you. Only know there's no hope, there's no ifs - you belong to another man.

Afternoon sunlight reflects off of Mihawk's gold ring. Shanks glares at it for a moment too long to pass off his intense stare as circumstantial. He can almost hear the mocking laughter of the universe as the consequence of the amalgamation of his bad choices is merely two meters away from him. There is nothing he wouldn't give up to turn back the time and make sure that things go differently, that he never became afraid of being too deep in love.

But time, like the seas, has no master.

_____

I was so torn about this one, I couldn't decide until the very end, so if you want to read a version where the scenario is flipped and Shanks is the 'lucky guy', just hit me up.

[httpwintersoldier]

『 bloodhound. || mihawk x reader 』

[PART 3 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - MIHAWK VER.

[SHANKS VER.] [BUGGY VER.] [SANJI VER.]

pairing: mihawk x f!reader words: lenghtyyyyy summary: your thievery catches the eye of a man who likes to take on every challenge that crosses him, only he did not know you were a bigger challenge than he anticipated. warnings: mihawk uses you. just assume the worst when reading my stuff. angst; smut; fluff.

You weren't a pirate, but somehow you got yourself a pretty little wanted poster. 10 million Berries, not bad! Not bad at all for someone who only committed a little theft.

Obviously by "a little theft" you meant stealing from the biggest banks and richest families - you just happened to like shiny things!

You got under the Marines' radar when you managed to infiltrate the base and steal some of their maps - yes, they weren't shiny or pretty, but the money you were about to get for them from the likes of Arlong and Buggy sure was. You made deals with good people and bad people alike, who they were mattered not to you - it only mattered that their money was real.

"You busy?" The Vice-Admiral's voice sounded in Mihawk's ear.

The man, who was sleeping, his hat covering his eyes, furrowed his eyebrows and groaned internally at the voice he now found annoying.

"I was, Vice-Admiral, but I find myself free now that you woke me." The man answered, an impertinent tone in his voice.

"I got you a new prey."

Interested in the way he described you (as a prey), Mihawk listened attentively to the instructions the Vice Admiral gave him.

"A thief? You woke me and are sending me out to sea, because of a little girl who stole some stuff?" Mihawk asked with a condescending tone.

"Not some stuff. Too much stuff."

The man rolled his eyes as he made his way to his small ship

"And the Marines are not able to catch her?"

"I think you will find the task harder than it seems, Mihawk."

With those final words, the Vice Admiral hung up, tired of Mihawk's judging and condescending tone. The man groaned, getting a little tired of these seemingly easy tasks the Marine sent him on - he was a Warlord, for fuck's sake, and the Marines used him to go after a measly thief...

You, on the other hand, rested on the shore of an island whose name you didn't care to learn. You hadn't robbed anyone or anything on it yet, so you wanted to enjoy the sea, the sand and the food while no one was looking for you (even though someone already was, you just didn't know it yet). You were very confident in your skills, constantly changing your look, attire and personality to make you harder to find or recognize. Few people ever suspected you, and so the confidence that you'd never be caught grew.

Obviously it didn't take Mihawk long before he was able to find you - all he had to do was ask around which islands had recently been tragets of many robberies and find the closest island that had yet no reports of such a thing happening.

"Have you heard? Dracule Mihawk is here! I'm sure I saw him, you can see his sword from miles away!" You heard someone whisper as you walked the streets of the island.

Your furrowed your brows at the information... Dracule Mihawk? What would a Warlord be doing in such a small island? Unless...

Your eyes widened in realization.

Shit.

Maybe you weren't as careful as you thought, maybe you weren't as good as you thought, and maybe you weren't as "uncatchable" and untraceable as you thought. If he was able to find you within a couple days of setting foot on the island, Mihawk surely would be able to spot you.

Shit. Fuck.

You needed to sneak on a ship that very night and get the fuck out before the man found you. You kept cursing internally as you had to leave the island before even being able to steal anything - but it was either leaving empty handed or leaving tied up.

For the time being, you hid on the island's vast forest, where you were sure he wouldn't look, waiting for the moon to come out.

When the sun began setting in the horizon, you made your way out of the dense jungle and headed to the island's port, looking for the biggest and most crowded ship - the more people it had and the bigger it was, the hardest to spot you, the unsolicited company, would be.

"I had to admit, I thought the whispers of my arrival would ruin our encounter, yet here we are." You heard a male voice speak behind you, as you walked on the port's creaky wooden floors.

You slowly turned around to unfortunately find the man tasked with bringing you to the Marines. You smiled innocently and held your hands up in surrender.

"Sorry Sir! Think you got the wrong person, I'm just boarding now!"

Your lies didn't work on Mihawk, that just rolled his eyes at you.

"Boarding? No ship is boarding at the moment, as both of us can very clearly see. I know who you are girl, make this easier for yourself and give in."

You smirked and scoffed at the man.

"Can't believe the Marines sent a Warlord after me, am I that dangerous?" You said, placing a hand over your chest, pretending to be shocked.

Mihawk was a little surprised about your change in demeanor, but he (obviously) didn't show it.

"Neither can I." He said honestly, with a sigh that showed the utmost boredom "So let's make this quick shall we?"

Your eyes were set on his sword and necklace. They were intersting... Pretty and... shiny. Oh you wanted them, you wanted them bad. Especially since you didn't get to steal anything in the island. You knew you'd hardly be able to steal the big heavy sword, but the little cross on his neck? Child's play.

You switched your confident expression to a fake shocked, sad one and walked over to him slowly, with your wrists together in front of you - you pretended to give yourself in for the sake of getting closer.

Mihawk's confidence, boredom and belief that he was better than anyone and capable of outsmarting every opponent, as well as the fact that he underestimated you, were fulcral for your escape plan.

When trying to find a ship, you spotted a couple that had left not long ago and would be easy to swim to. For you, obviously, not for Mihawk that carried

The Warlord was not surprised you gave youself in, some people would do so in hopes to fall in the Marines' good graces and get better sentencing.

"Pretty knife you got there." You said, pointing to his sword

Mihawk furrowed his eyebrows and, while he was busy being offended you called Yoru a "knife", you grabbed the cross on his neck and dove into the water, furiously swimming towards one of the boats that had left not long ago, but was far away enough from shore for Mihawk not to be able to follow you.

"Fuck!" He yelled.

It was dark and the waves were wild, it was impossible to follow you with his sight, let alone physically. And he couldn't attack the ship - it was full of civilians.

When you reached a ship, you pretended to be a scared woman that had fallen overboard in another ship and they immediately took you in and offered you food and clothes, in an attempt to make up for the supposed trauma you'd told them about.

You were the number one thing on Mihawk's priprity list from that day on - he was obsessed with you. Any other targeted ordered by the Marine was ignored or done as a side quest as he looked for you - the woman that had stolen his necklace and worse, the one that outsmarted him.

On the other hand, you were giddy you were able to pull it off, and wore the necklace (hidden, of course, as to not raise suspicion) as a prize.

You wouldn't see each other for two months. You thought you were safe from his radar, but that couldn't be further from the truth. To be fair, you knew that if he was looking for you, he'd be at the big ball hosted by Kaya, and you knew it'd be risky to attend but you absolutely couldn't miss it - so many people to steal from, so much jewelry... A paradise to you.

So you did your best to disguise yourself: a dress far more revealing than usual, to take away attention from your somewhat recognizable face and a long, black wig with a fringe and two strands on each side that framed your face, hiding your features even more.

Mihawk refused to leave Yoru behind, even if it meant you'd recognize him in the middle of the crowd. He was determined to get you, no matter what means he had to use.

You waited a while before starting to swipe stuff - you wanted to give people time to get somehwat drunk. That would make it so they wouldn't notice their things vanish so easily and, as a bonus, they'd probably blame the loss of their items on the alcohol, and not on a thief. It was perfect.

You hid the sutff you had stolen on your pouch, in hidden places on your outfit and, in some cases, you wore the jewelry as if it was yours.

The party was cut short on your end when you saw a feathery had and a shiny sword walk in the big doors of the mansion.

"Oh... Shit." You cursed under your breath and scanned the room to find the best exit.

The stress and fear of the Warlord seemingly still following you made your brain momentarily stop, and you did not stop to think that someone hurriedly making their way out right as he walks in would be suspicious.

"Gotcha." He thought, with a smirk, as he spotted you making your way to the back.

Before you could get far, a large hand captured your wrist.

"Leaving so soon? Why don't we dance for a little, my lady." Mihawk whispered in your ear.

You had no time to reply as he spun you around and pulled you to his chest.

"You have something that belongs to me, Y/N." He whispered again.

To the unknowing eye, it would seem you and Mihawk were simply dancing to the song, but you were very much fighting, although not in a way that would alert the other guests that they were in possible danger.

"Why don't you come find it?" You suggested with a smirk, as the man spun you into his chest.

"There will be plenty of time to find it, trust me." His hands travelled your body, looking for the cross you had stolen, correctly assuming you kept it close, instead finding several compartments with jewelry "Is this all you've stolen tonight?" Mihawk asks, amused.

You chuckled.

"I was just beginning, until someone crashed the party."

Mihawk pulled you close once more.

"I doubt you're in the guest list, I'm hardly the only one crashing a party."

"So now what?" You asked with a scoff, looking up at his big, yellow eyes "You take me in and hand me to the Marines?"

Mihawk scanned your face - you were good. You had just been caught, yet you displayed no trace of stress, despair, panic... In fact, you looked confident. And Mihawk wasn't sure if that impressed him, agered him, or aroused him. For you to be so confident in the face of power and danger... that stirred up something in him that he wasn't sure how to describe.

"I'm not so sure. You've made this personal when you stole my belongings." He replied, with an expression you couldn't decipher.

"I also made fun of your pretty sword." You said with a giggle.

That was the turning point that had Mihawk swing you over his shoulder and carry you out. Some guests were far too drunk to process what had happened and the ones that weren't simply didn't care - they had free food and drinks, why should they care.

The man carried you out to the garden, to a secluded place surrounded by bushes, trees and tall flowers. There was a small gazebo in the center but it was far away enough Mihawk was sure no one would come snooping.

"That's it. Where is it!?" He asked, as if you had wasted his patience completely (which you had).

Mihawk not-so-carefully threw you on the ground and straddled you, making you groan when your head hit the hard wooden floor.

When he obtained no response, his hands began searching you, taking out every piece of jewelry he found - your pouch, your hidden pockets, your body.

"Hey!" You complained, gathering the jewelry others had worked so hard for (and you had worked so hard to steal from) as best as you could.

"Where is it!?" Mihawk growled, his face, centimiters away from yours, as his hands angrily gripped your thighs.

You knew you had no way out of it now, so you might as well succumb to his wishes.

Mihawk watched as you slid off the straps of your dress and pulled it down slightly, to reveal that his necklace was stored in your bra, between your tits. You giggled in his face, making him even angrier.

"You know what?..." The man began, taking his cross away from you and placing it down far away "You've caused me a lot of trouble... and most of all you made fun of me to my face."

His hand made its way from your thigh to your neck, gripping it slightly, before bending over to whisper in your ear.

"I think I've just found a way for you to pay for all the trouble."

For a second you thought he was going to kill you - even though choking wasn't his style, nothing was off the table, you thought. It was only when you saw a lustful glint in his eye that you understood what he meant.

"You like to fuck all of the criminals you find along the way?" You teased with a smirk.

Mihawk stood up and, as he did so, he gripped your hair and made you kneel in front of him.

"Can't wait to shut that pretty little mouth of yours." He says through gritted teeth, as he pulled out his cock and slapped it against your cheek a couple times.

You obidiently open your mouth as you look up at him with big eyes, and he shoves his lenght in your mouth. The man gathered your hair in a ponytail, making it easier to control you and fuck your face.

"Who knew you could be such a good girl? Hm?"

You could only moan in responde and grip his thighs for support. When you looked up at him again tears brimmed in your eyes, from how hard he was fucking your mouth.

When the man pulled out, you gasped for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip.

"Feel like talking back now, brat?" Mihawk asked, voice dripping in fake pity.

You opened your mark to hit him with a snappy remark, but he took the oportunity to shove his cock back into your mouth, efffectively shutting you up once more.

You gagged on his cock over and over, a tear rolling down your cheek and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he fucked your throat.

Mihawk's abdomen clenched as he felt himself getting closer and closer to climax, and just then he pulled away from your mouth.

The smudged makeup running down your face and swollen mouth alone would've been good enough to make him cum - oh how he loved putting brats in their place.

The man sat with his back leaning against one of the sturdy wooden collumns, and patted his thigh, signaling for you to sit on his lap.

"What makes you think I won't just run away." You asked with a broken voice, your throat a little dry from him fucking you.

Mihawk scoffed as you crawled over to him.

"I know you won't." The man responded in a cocky voice.

Worst part was that he was right.

As you straddled him, one of his arms wrapped around you, keeping you hovering over his cock. The man pulled up your dress and pushed your panties aside so he could access your pussy.

"Oh but you like being used, don't you? You like being a fuck toy, right princess? Just a hole for me to fuck?" Mihawk asked condescendingly, as he ran two fingers along your dripping folds.

You bit your lip as you heard those foul (and very true) words leave his lips.

"Answer me." He demanded through gritted teeth, delivering a harsh smack to your yes.

"I do- I love being used by you."

Mihawk chuckled, running his tip alolng your folds.

"I can tell, princess."

His tip found your entrance, and he had no mercy on you. He slammed you down on his cock. You gripped his shoulders, and your mouth fell open - although you were incapable of making a single noise.

The arm that was gripped around your waist controlled your movements as his hips slammed up against you, fucking you at an inhuman pace.

"Come on princess, don't you like being a brat? I dare you to try it now." Mihawk dared, whispering the last part in your ear.

"I- I won't be! Fuck- sorry!" You apologised between pants and moans, your eyes barely open.

"That's a good girl." He praised, nearly out of breath from fucking you.

"You feel good... so good." You admitted in a husky voice, earning a smirk from Mihawk and a spank that was meant to be a reward (and you took it as such).

The Warlord attached his lips to yours in an animalistic kiss, accentuating the fact that he was in control, he owned you in that moment.

You moaned incessantly into the kiss, mixing with his groans, as you gripped his shoulders.

"You look- you look so much better like this. Being obedient, with my cock deep in you."

The way you bounced on his cock became sloppy, as did his thrust, signaling you were both close to climax.

Mihawk bit and sucked your neck, marking you as best as he possibly could at that point.

"Fuck Mihawk I'm gonna cum!"

The hand that was not busy gripping your ass flew to your neck, choking you just the right way - in a way that almost made you cum.

"Did I tell you you could? Beg." He demanded through gritted teeth.

Your legs faltered at your command, but his hand held you up.

"Please, please Mihawk... I need to cum, please!"

Your high-pitched moan combined with the way you begged was enough to make him give you the green light.

You came on his cock, a loud whine and a call for his name leaving your lips. Mihawk grabbed your hips and snapped his against yours until ropes of cum filled you up.

The both of you stayed still, regaining your breaths and resuming the tension of the pre-sex moment.

Mihawk reached out to grab the cross that you had stolen from him and wrapped it around his neck once more, enjoying the familiarity of the item.

"I guess you gotta hand me over, hm..." You said, in a fake sad voice, trying to appeal to his soft side now that you had his dick in you.

He simply scoffed.

"You won't get sympathy from me, princess." The Warlord said, placing his hands on your ass "However, this world does need a few new wild cards, it's getting boring. And you have the right attitude, I think you'd have a lot more use beside me, as a student, rather than in a cell."

It was almost as if he was debating with himself about the theme as he exposed it to you.

Before you could speak, Mihawk anticipated himself.

"You'll have plenty Berry to buy your shiny paraphernalia..." He clarified, rolling his eyes.

"Well... Having your grumoy self as a teacher beats being behind bars... so I guess you got yourself a student."

[1chaerry]

Tides of Possession

summary: shanks falls in love, a deadly obsession that twists and turns, capturing the one who stole his heart, even if it means forcing her into marriage.

c.w. : forced marriage, forced proximity, manipulative shanks, possessive and obsessive behaviour

w.c. : 5.2k

part 1(?)

Disclaimer: Reader is called Saram, meaning 'Human/Person'. Shanks has both arms.

Saram sat in the dimly lit room, the heavy oak desk before her casting a long shadow. The paper lying flat on its surface was as innocuous as it was damning. Certificate of Marriage, it read in elegant, flowing script. Each letter seemed to mock her resolve, and the delicate curves of the font were at odds with the suffocating weight in her chest.

Her hands rested on her knees, trembling as she stared down at the paper. A pen lay neatly to the side, as though taunting her.

Behind her, Shanks moved closer, the weight of his presence pressing into her back like a predator stalking its prey. The air between them crackled with something darker than words—power, control, possession.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice a velvet purr that brushed against her ear, “you don’t have to do this if you truly don’t want to.” His tone was soothing, almost kind, but the unspoken threat coiled beneath it like a viper. “No one’s forcing you, love.”

The words sent a chill down Saram’s spine. She knew better. If she didn’t sign the paper, there would be consequences. Lives would be lost, her crew would suffer, and the innocent people she had sworn to protect would bleed for her stubbornness.

Her throat tightened as she tried to find her voice. “I don’t understand why,” she finally whispered, the words trembling on her lips. “Why this? Why go this far?”

Shanks chuckled, a low sound that sent ripples through her. He placed his hands on the back of her chair, leaning down so that his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. “You already know the answer to that, Saram,” he said softly, his voice laced with possessiveness. “In exchange for sparing your precious friends, your crew, and your quaint little ideals, I want you. All of you.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she hated the way her body reacted to the heat in his voice. She hated the way his mere proximity made her feel cornered, trapped, like a bird with its wings clipped.

“This just makes it more binding,” Shanks added, gesturing to the paper.

Saram’s eyes dropped back to the document. Her fingers twitched, hovering over the pen, but she couldn’t bring herself to pick it up. Her stomach churned.

“You know this isn’t legitimate,” she said, her voice weak. “It’s not legally binding without an officiator.”

Shanks let out a quiet laugh, the sound dark and rich. “Legality?” he mused. “You think I care about that?” His hand came to rest on her shoulder, his grip firm yet strangely gentle. “I can find a priest to threaten, or a Marine judge to coerce. But if you’re so worried about appearances, we could always have a proper ceremony.”

Her head snapped up, her cheeks flushing hot. “No!” The word came out sharper than she intended.

Shanks grinned, a lazy, predatory curve of his lips. “So shy,” he teased. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll skip the audience—for now.”

Her nails dug into her palms as she looked away, her heart racing. “You don’t have to do this,” she said, her voice shaking. “You could let me go. You could stop this madness.”

His grip on her shoulder tightened, and she felt him lean closer. “And why would I do that?” he murmured, his tone softer now, more dangerous. “When I finally have you right where I want you?”

She swallowed hard, her resolve crumbling. He wouldn’t stop. She knew that. He’d burn everything she cared about to the ground before he let her go. And yet, there was something in his voice, in his words, that sent a different kind of chill through her. He wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t hurt her. He’d destroy the world for her, but he’d never let anyone harm her—not even himself.

“I wouldn’t be unkind to you,” Shanks said suddenly, his voice dropping to a whisper. He brushed his lips against the side of her neck, barely a touch, but it left her skin burning. “You’d belong to me, yes, but I’d take care of you.”

She wanted to scream, to push him away, to fight back with everything she had. But she couldn’t. Her hands were tied, her choices stolen from her. And deep down, she hated the way his words made her hesitate. He’d never shown her cruelty—only relentless, consuming determination.

“You’d take care of me,” she echoed bitterly, her voice breaking. “Like a prisoner.”

“Like my queen,” Shanks corrected, his tone unwavering. “And you’d rule alongside me. No one would dare touch you.”

Her heart twisted painfully, the weight of his words crashing down on her. She couldn’t win this. She had to think of her crew, her people, everyone who was counting on her to make the right choice.

With a trembling hand, she reached for the pen. Her vision blurred as she stared at the paper again, the letters dancing before her eyes.

“So selfless,” Shanks said softly, guiding her hand with his own. His grip was steady, his warmth seeping into her skin. “So sacrificial. Always putting others before yourself. We’ll have to work on that once you’re mine.”

Her chest ached as the pen met the paper, the ink bleeding into the page like a wound. Each letter she wrote felt heavier than the last, sealing her fate with every stroke.

When she finished, Shanks took the paper from her and held it up, his smile dark and triumphant. “You’ve made the right choice, love,” he said, pressing a feather-light kiss to her temple. “And now, you’ll never have to make another one again.”

The first night in the shared room was suffocating.

Saram had always been independent, free to roam, to stay in her own space, with only the sea and her crew to keep her company. The quarters aboard Shanks' ship were a far cry from what she was used to. The walls felt too close, the air too thick. But what made her skin crawl the most was the figure lounging casually on the other side of the room, watching her every move.

Shanks. Of course, he had insisted she stay in his personal quarters. There were no alternatives, no protest to be heard. He made it clear, with that infernal smile of his, that this was non-negotiable. She belonged to him now, and the last thing she needed was privacy.

Saram sat on the edge of the bed, her back rigid, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. She felt exposed, vulnerable. She didn’t want to show weakness, didn’t want him to know how much she hated this. But everything about the room—the soft light of the lantern, the scent of the sea in the air, the rhythmic creaking of the ship—felt like a constant reminder of her predicament.

And Shanks, who lounged in a chair by the window, looking out at the horizon with a calm expression, was the final piece of the prison she now found herself in.

“You’re not sleeping?” he asked, his voice smooth, but with that dangerous undercurrent that she had come to dread. He didn’t even look at her as he spoke, but the way his words lingered in the air made her tense up.

Saram didn’t answer at first. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him. She shifted uncomfortably, her mind racing with a hundred different ways to get out of this.

“I know you’re awake,” he continued, his voice a little louder, more amused. “You’re not even trying to hide it. It’s cute.”

“Cut it out,” she finally muttered, her voice tight. Her eyes flicked toward him, just for a second, before she looked away again. His relaxed posture made her blood boil. How could he be so calm, so sure of himself?

“You know, Saram,” he began, his tone shifting to something far more intimate, “there’s no need to be so cold toward me. We’re in this together now.”

The words felt like a slap. She could almost feel the weight of them pressing down on her chest. Her teeth gritted together in frustration.

“I’m not in this with you, Shanks,” she snapped, turning her body toward him. “I never asked for this. I didn’t sign that damn paper out of choice.”

Shanks finally looked at her, and there was that predatory gleam in his eyes again. “Did you really think you had a choice?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, dark tone. “You’ve already made your choice, Saram. You’re with me now, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Her heart raced, a mix of anger and fear stirring inside her. She knew he was right. She had signed, had agreed to his terms. But that didn’t mean she had to accept it. There was still a part of her that wanted to break free.

“I’ll never be with you,” she spat, standing up. She could feel the tension building, thick and palpable between them. “I’ll never be your pawn, your property.”

Shanks’ gaze never wavered, his eyes dark with amusement. “You’re not a pawn, love. You’re my equal… for now.” He leaned forward in his chair, the motion slow and deliberate. “But that can change, you know. I’m not asking for much. Just a little trust. A little patience.”

She shook her head, stepping away from the bed. She didn’t want to give him any more room to get under her skin. She didn’t want to show him how much his words affected her.

“You’re sick,” she muttered, her voice thick with disdain.

Shanks laughed then, and the sound was rich and deep, filled with dark amusement. “Sick? Maybe. But I’m not lying to you, Saram. You know as well as I do that the only reason you’re still fighting is because you hate that you’ve given in. You hate that I’ve beaten you at your own game.”

Her breath hitched, and she turned to face him. “I’m not defeated.”

His grin spread wider, his eyes glinting with something far more dangerous. “You will be. Eventually.” He stood from the chair, moving slowly toward her. “You’re mine now, Saram. And that means we’re going to work together, whether you like it or not.”

Saram stepped back, her back hitting the wall. She hated that he was so sure of himself. She hated the way his words crawled under her skin like poison, sinking deep into her mind, poisoning her thoughts.

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed.

But Shanks wasn’t deterred. He moved closer, his presence suffocating. His hand came to rest against the wall next to her head, trapping her in place.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, his lips inches from her ear. “I’m not going to force you. Not yet. But I’ll have you eventually. You’ll see.”

Saram shuddered, every instinct screaming at her to fight, to escape, to break free from the hold he had over her. But she knew, deep down, that there was no way out. Not yet. Not until she found a way to turn the tables on him.

Saram’s heart hammered against her chest as Shanks moved closer, his eyes gleaming with that same, unsettling confidence that always made her skin crawl. Every step he took felt like a step toward inevitability.

“Come on,” he said, voice smooth and commanding, “it’s late. We both need sleep.” His tone was casual, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to force her into his bed with him.

“No,” she hissed, her voice shaking with anger. She wasn’t going to let him get away with this. Not again. “I’m not sleeping in your bed.”

Shanks' lips curled into a wicked smile, and he reached out, grabbing her by the wrist with surprising gentleness, his grip firm but not painful. “You’ll get used to it,” he murmured, his voice low, teasing. “Besides, you don’t really have a choice, do you?”

Before she could pull away, his other hand was at her waist, his fingers brushing against the curve of her hip as he guided her toward the bed. Saram's breath hitched, her body tense with the growing proximity, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of begging him to stop.

“You’re a goddamn menace,” she spat, trying to twist out of his hold, but he only tightened his grip.

Shanks’ chuckle echoed in her ears, dark and low. “You really think you can fight me, Saram?” he asked, his fingers tracing along her side as he gently pushed her onto the bed. “I’m not asking you to fight, love. Just… surrender. For tonight.”

Saram felt her heart sink as he climbed in beside her, his movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring every second of her discomfort. She pulled the covers tightly around her, making sure to keep as much space between them as possible. But Shanks, of course, had other plans.

He shifted closer, the heat of his body radiating against hers. His hand settled over her waist, the pressure light but unyielding. “I don’t bite,” he murmured in her ear, though the possessiveness in his voice suggested otherwise. “Unless you make me.”

Saram’s skin prickled as his hand slid a little lower, brushing just below her ribcage. She tried to jerk away, but he was too quick, his fingers sliding further down her side.

“Stop it, Shanks,” she growled, her voice barely above a whisper, but the threat in her tone was unmistakable. “I’m not your plaything.”

Shanks only chuckled again, this time more menacingly. “No, you're not my plaything.” His hand moved again, this time caressing the small of her back before his fingers slipped dangerously low along her spine. “But you are mine. I’m just getting you used to the idea.”

Her entire body tensed, the fight within her burning hot and furious. She was fighting a losing battle. She couldn’t shake off the way his hands felt on her, even if it was nothing more than his touch pressing against the thin fabric of her clothes. The possessive glint in his eyes made her stomach churn. Every small touch, every movement, was a reminder that he wasn’t going to stop. He was just getting started.

Saram held her breath, trying to ignore the way his thumb brushed lazily along her waist, his hand resting heavy and possessive on her hip.

Shanks, sensing her tension, leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. “You don’t have to fight this,” he whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll take care of you, but you need to stop pushing me away.”

“You don’t have to take care of me,” she snapped, her voice shaky, and she tried to shove his hand off her hip. But he simply held it there, steady and unyielding.

He tilted his head, his lips grazing the edge of her ear as he chuckled darkly. “I’m not letting you go, Saram,” he said softly, his tone just barely above a whisper. “Not now. Not ever.”

She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle in the pit of her stomach like a stone. He wasn’t playing, and worse, he wasn’t backing down.

“You don’t control me,” she muttered, but it sounded less convincing than she would have liked. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, the warmth of his breath, and the pressure of his hand on her hip. Every time she tried to move away, he simply pulled her closer.

Shanks leaned back, still holding her tightly. “Maybe not yet,” he said softly, but his voice was filled with promise. “But you will, eventually. You’ll see.”

She couldn’t deny the shiver that ran down her spine at the finality of his words. There was something terrifying about the way he spoke, like he knew exactly what was coming—like he had already won.

For now, she didn’t know how to fight him anymore. She could feel the tension, the raw, oppressive weight of it all, pressing in on her. And when she finally closed her eyes to block him out, her body still tense under his touch, she couldn’t escape the truth.

She was trapped. Trapped in his bed. Trapped in his world.

The night stretched on, heavy and thick, like a fog that smothered her every thought. Saram lay there in silence, Shanks' hand still resting on her hip, the warmth of his touch seeping through the thin fabric of her clothes. No matter how much she tried to focus on the steady, rhythmic creak of the ship or the distant sound of waves crashing against the hull, his presence remained suffocating, inescapable.

She could feel his breath on her neck, soft but deliberate, as if he was savoring the fact that she was there—with him, no longer a defiant stranger, but something far more personal.

Saram gritted her teeth, struggling to keep her emotions in check. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his proximity affected her. He was testing her, pushing her to the brink, and she was determined not to let him see that he was winning.

But Shanks wasn’t the type to let things go. His grip tightened on her waist, and he tugged her closer, pulling her back until her back was pressed against his chest. The sudden pressure startled her, but before she could move, his arm was wrapped firmly around her waist, keeping her there.

“You don’t have to resist,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the back of her neck. The touch was almost gentle, a stark contrast to the intensity of his words. “I’m not going to hurt you, Saram. You don’t have to keep fighting me.”

Saram’s fists clenched, nails digging into her palms. She hated how his words sounded so sincere, like he was doing her a favor, like he was the only one who understood what was best for her. But beneath it all, she knew the truth. He wasn’t saving her. He was breaking her down, piece by piece, until she had nothing left to hold onto.

“You’re not my savior, Shanks,” she spat, her voice strained with a mixture of anger and frustration. “You’re just a tyrant in disguise.”

Shanks chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her skin, and for a moment, his grip on her loosened just enough for her to consider escape. But then his fingers brushed the back of her neck, slow and deliberate, sending a jolt of heat racing through her body.

“Maybe,” he mused, his voice low and dangerous. “But you’re here with me, aren’t you? Willingly.” He paused for a beat, letting the words hang in the air between them. “You might not admit it, but I can feel it, Saram. You’re not as opposed to me as you pretend to be.”

She felt her breath catch in her throat, her pulse quickening. It was like he could see straight through her defenses, straight into the heart of her deepest fears and desires. She hated how much he understood her, how easily he read her every move. It made her feel exposed, vulnerable, and she could already feel the walls she had carefully built around herself begin to crumble.

“No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but filled with a cold edge. “I’m not here because I want to be. I’m here because I have no choice. You’ve made sure of that.”

Shanks was quiet for a moment, and Saram could almost feel the amusement radiating off him. Then, his hand moved again, this time sliding slowly down her side, his fingers trailing a path along her ribs before resting on her hip once more.

“I’ve made sure of nothing,” he replied, his voice hushed but firm. “You’re here because you need to be, Saram. You’re here because you understand what will happen if you try to leave.”

Her breath hitched again, and she could feel the anger rising in her chest. The helplessness that clawed at her throat was suffocating, and she struggled to keep it under control.

“I will leave,” she said, her words cold and steady despite the chaos inside her. “One day, I’ll get out of this. You can’t hold me forever.”

Shanks’ laughter rang out, soft but undeniably mocking. He shifted closer still, pressing his chest against her back, his breath warm against her ear as he spoke.

“You are my prisoner, Saram, my wife,” he whispered. “I’m not worried about you leaving. I’m worried about when you’ll stop pretending that you don’t want to be here. When you’ll stop fighting and realize that everything you need is right here, in my arms.”

Saram stiffened, her teeth gritted as she struggled to ignore the way his words slipped under her skin like poison. He was playing a dangerous game, making her question her own resolve. But she refused to let him break her. She couldn’t let him win.

“I’m not some damsel in distress, Shanks,” she growled, her voice sharp. “I’m not your toy to control.”

Shanks sighed, his breath hot against her neck. “You keep saying that,” he murmured, almost in mock sympathy. “But deep down, you know you’re wrong.” He paused, and she could feel the smile tug at his lips. “You’ll see. Eventually. You’ll see what happens when you stop fighting me.”

Saram’s mind raced, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to figure out how to escape this. But for now, all she could do was lay there in his arms, utterly trapped, knowing that the night was far from over.

She hated him, and yet, she couldn’t escape him. And the worst part? A small part of her, the part she hated the most, wanted to stay.

He still remembered the day he first met her.

The salty breeze of the open sea carried a sense of freedom, a lightness in the air that always made Shanks feel like he could conquer anything. The Red-Haired Pirates had docked on a small, quiet island—a place filled with quiet townsfolk and hidden beauty, far from the chaos of the Grand Line's larger ports. It was the perfect place to rest, re-supply, and spend a few days enjoying the simplicity of life.

That was the day he first saw her.

It wasn’t like anything he had ever imagined. He had no grand expectations, no knowledge of who she was or what she might become to him. She was just another face in the crowd. At least, that’s what he told himself, the ever-determined pirate captain whose heart had long since been tempered by a thousand battles.

He had been strolling along the quiet dock, a tankard of ale in his hand and a carefree grin plastered across his face, when the sight of a flash of silver hair caught his attention. It was nothing unusual at first—there were always people walking along the docks—but there was something about the way she moved. It wasn’t just the grace in her steps or the way her eyes scanned the sea like she had secrets to share with the horizon. It was the intensity in her gaze, the quiet strength that seemed to radiate from her very being.

She was standing by the railing, her arms crossed over her chest, and she seemed... untouchable. As if the world around her didn’t quite matter. She was looking out to sea, but in the brief moment their eyes locked, Shanks felt something shift inside him. Something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

It wasn’t the usual flirtation or fascination he was used to feeling when meeting someone new. No, this was different. It was softer, almost... like a pull from somewhere deep inside him, a quiet voice whispering that this moment meant more than it appeared.

Her eyes, stormy and full of quiet defiance, held his for a moment longer than was usual, and then, with a slight tilt of her head, she broke the gaze and turned back toward the horizon.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but something in that moment felt like the world had tilted slightly. The sound of the waves seemed a little quieter, the chatter of his crew just a little more distant. In the middle of that bustling port town, with so much life happening around him, she was the only thing that mattered. She was the only thing that existed.

He found himself drawn to her, stepping closer, as if some invisible force was guiding him. He didn’t even have to think twice about it. She was standing alone, so confidently and yet so detached from the world, and he... couldn’t resist. There was no hesitation in his step as he approached her.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” he called out, his voice light and friendly, his usual grin wide. He was still unsure of what exactly compelled him to speak, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Saram didn’t turn to him immediately, her eyes still fixed on the vast ocean in front of them, as though trying to understand it. But after a moment, she gave a slight nod. “It’s peaceful,” she replied in a tone that suggested she wasn’t quite addressing him, but rather the world itself.

For a brief moment, Shanks thought she wouldn’t say anything else, that she might simply dismiss him, as most people did. But then she finally turned her head toward him, her eyes locking onto his, and the world around them seemed to disappear.

Her gaze was piercing, unyielding, and yet, there was a softness to it—a vulnerability tucked beneath that hard exterior. Her silver hair fluttered slightly in the wind, and for a moment, she looked almost ethereal, as if she didn’t belong to the world at all.

“I’m Shanks,” he introduced himself, his usual confidence returning, though this time, his voice was a bit gentler than usual.

“I know,” she replied, her eyes never leaving his. Her lips curved into the smallest of smiles, a rare thing. “I’ve heard about you.”

Shanks was taken aback for a second, and he laughed softly, the sound almost like an echo in the silence between them. “I hope it’s all good things,” he said, a little self-deprecating, though he wasn’t sure why.

Her smile grew just the slightest bit. “You’re a pirate. I’m sure some people like you. Some don’t.”

He chuckled again, the tension between them suddenly lifting, and for a moment, they stood there together, side by side, each lost in the same view. The sun was low on the horizon now, casting golden light across the water, and everything felt still and right.

But there was something else he noticed, something that surprised him even more than the connection he felt with her. She hadn’t been scared or defensive with him. She hadn’t turned away or looked down in an attempt to distance herself from him, like so many others had done in his past. No, she had stood her ground, and in her quiet presence, he found something that spoke to him in a way nothing else ever had.

Saram wasn’t like anyone he had ever met. She wasn’t impressed by his fame, nor did she fawn over him like many others did. She simply was. And for Shanks, that was the most intoxicating thing of all.

As the wind swept through their hair, and the sun dipped beneath the horizon, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was the beginning of something he couldn’t fully understand, but that he couldn’t let slip away.

The pirate captain who had always lived for the thrill of adventure, for the joy of sailing the seas, now found himself wondering if the greatest adventure of all might be standing right in front of him.

And somehow, in a way he never expected, he had already fallen.

The soft creak of the ship’s wooden planks was the only sound that broke the stillness of the night. Shanks lay on his back, staring at the ceiling of the dimly lit room, the weight of everything pressing down on him in a way he wasn’t used to. The steady rise and fall of Saram’s chest next to him was a reminder that things were far from simple, and his heart felt heavy, a knot tightening deep inside his chest.

He turned his head to the side, his gaze falling on her. She had fallen asleep in his arms, exhausted by the endless battles, both physical and emotional, that had been waged between them. Her body was still, but her face—her face was anything but peaceful.

Even in sleep, she looked restless, as though she couldn’t find a moment of true peace. Her brow was furrowed, and the softest of frowns tugged at her lips. But it was the tears that caught his attention—tears that had slipped from her closed eyes and stained the pillow beneath her.

Shanks felt something stir inside him, something that felt dangerous and unfamiliar. He didn’t like seeing her like this—vulnerable, exposed, broken in a way he hadn’t thought possible. It gnawed at him, that sense of helplessness, the knowledge that he was the one who had caused this.

His hand hovered over her face for a moment before he moved with slow, deliberate care. His fingers brushed the damp trail of a tear from her cheek, feeling the warmth of it on his skin. His heart squeezed, a twinge of guilt lancing through him. It was hard to reconcile the woman who fought him tooth and nail with the one who now lay beside him, her emotions raw and unguarded in her sleep.

He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to feeling this… soft. To wanting to protect someone who constantly pushed him away.

But that feeling was there, undeniable. And as he wiped the last of the tears away, he realized that he didn’t want to see her like this anymore. He didn’t want her to cry, didn’t want to be the cause of her pain. For all the walls she’d built around herself, for all the stubbornness and defiance, there was still something fragile beneath it all.

Something that he, ironically, was starting to care about.

Saram shifted slightly in her sleep, her body instinctively curling toward him as if she knew he was there, offering warmth and protection without even realizing it. Shanks didn’t fight the urge to pull her closer. He wrapped his arm around her, bringing her against his chest, and for a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the softness of the moment.

Her head rested lightly on his shoulder, her breath soft and steady now, as if she had finally found some semblance of rest. He could feel the warmth of her body, the slight tremors that still lingered from her earlier distress, and it made his chest tighten with an unfamiliar ache.

He stared down at her, his heart a strange mixture of tenderness and something darker. He knew the road ahead wasn’t going to be easy—not by any stretch of the imagination. She would fight him every step of the way, and he had no illusions about that.

But in this quiet moment, with her in his arms, the world seemed a little less complicated. He wasn’t the pirate captain feared by all, and she wasn’t the woman who despised him. They were just two people, sharing a fleeting moment of peace amidst the chaos they both carried inside them.

Shanks kissed the top of her head softly, his lips brushing her hair, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself simply breathe. The weight of the world was still there, hanging over them both, but for now, he would allow himself to feel this—this fragile, complicated connection between them.

And perhaps, in the morning, everything would return to the chaos of their rivalry. But for now, he would hold her close, as though she belonged to him, as though she was finally where she was meant to be.

In his arms.

[rayraelleaizawa]

You find out they have very sensitive nipples

TW: mild sexual content, Minors DNI

Characters: Shanks, Benn Beckman, Dracule Mihawk

Shanks

this guy walks around all day with his bare chest out, so getting to his nipples is an easy thing

you two were laying in his bed in the captain quarters, both of you panting from the wild love making you just did. You absently let your fingers trail over his chest while you two enjoyed the silence. His hand strocked over your side, keeping you close, as both of you basked in the afterglow. You then circled one of his nipples, and holy-

this man moaned

suddenly, unexpectedly, loud and deep

you looked at him in shock at the sudden noise, and he looked at you in a shocked and suprised way too

"W-what did you just do-"

He'd ask with a blush and tries to act like nothing happend, but you already noticed what was going on and are now smiling devilishly up to him

you pinch his nipple this time, and his whole body arches as he moans and yelps surprised at the same time

"That's it"

He says and grabs you and rolls you over that you're laying under him

"If you want to tease me that bad, you sure can have that"

Shanks is a man of his word, and he shows you that with another one, or two, or three rounds through the whole night

Benn Beckmann

You were sitting on Benns lap as he read the newspapers on deck

You and him both enjoyed the others presence, finding calmness and comfort with each other. And that is exactly what Benn needs after watching over his Captain and the other crewmembers everyday while also doing a bunch of tasks

He loves sitting with you and just relaxing. He's the king of quality time

You hum quietly to a tune in your mind and trace invisible patterns over his shirt, as you graze a nipple of his

His muscles tense at once and he makes a quiet and suprised groan

Tho he acts like nothing happened and just continues to stare at the newspaper

You on the other hand, trace over his nipple again, and again, and again, and you feel his body tensing more and more, and after some time he cant hold back his groan anymore and you feel goosebumps rising up your arms and back at the arousing sound he makes

You look at him stunned, you never thought he'd be that sensitive in that area, while he folded the newspaper together and laid it on the table. You just wanted to say something as he scooped you up and started walking with you in his hands under deck

"What, you think you can tease me like that with nothing incoming? I'll show you just how senstive your own body can be"

he grins as he says that, and just like his captain, he's a man of his word and makes sure to go over every inch of your body and find every sensitive spot you have and torture you with it

Dracule Mihawk

He is a stoic man

He won't tell you about his sensitive spots, he'll just make sure to please you in every way possible, but doesnt really care about himself, if he finishes with you he is more than happy

But just like Shanks, this man walks around with his bare chest and nipples on display for everyone to see

so one time, you just wondered if he also has sensitive areas. He always makes sure to stimulate you in every way, but you never saw anything that stimulated him except of the part between his legs

So, you were thinking if his nipples might be just as sensitive as yours

You walk up to him, knowing that a direct approach is best with him

He read the newspaper and sipped some of his wine as you came into the dining hall to him. You walked up to him and asked "Are you sensitive there?" and just softly pinched his nipple

You were shocked from his reaction to say the least

You figured that he might be senstive there like you are, but his reaction was way more intense than yours ever been

He gasps suprised and his back arches of the chair, his head falling back as a small moan escaped him at the end

You didnt know if you saw right just now, the Mihawk who only lets his emotions show in bed, and even then he seems to hold them back still, lost controll about his body so easily

You wanted to do it again, but he quickly grabbed your hand before you could reach his nipple again. He looked at you with a small blush

"Yes. I am sensitive there."

He answered you, and you already knew that you would use that knowledge against him the next time you two would get intimate

[13knowge]

Hi. For a long time i thought this was pretty weird (?) but after doing more research i found out that many people shared it and it made me pretty happy, i found a part on the internet pretty funny and i want to have fun too.

I'm not very good at English but i tried my best getting a little help.

So, these are my favorite OP characters and some headcanons i have of them of how they are when they are in love or in a relationship.

CW: SFW / KINK

Kaido

Kaido in love can get pretty scary, he knows he's scary and uses it to make fun of you. He also invades your personal space.

When he is drunk he seeks physical contact, sometimes he doesn't measure his strength and you get to feel a bit of discomfort to his grip.

He doesn't care if his subordinates are present or not when he shows his affection towards you, he likes to show you off.

His way of flirting is to take you on his ship to accompany him to eliminate his enemies, he wants to show you how strong he is and the respect his crew has for him.

In intimacy he likes to use intimidation and point out how small you are and that he could tear you apart if he wanted to.

Rob Lucci

He definitely chases you everywhere, no matter where you go, he will follow your footsteps wherever you decide to go. You will never be out of his vision. It's not that he distrusts you, he trusts you wholeheartedly, it's just that his favorite activity is to always be with you even though he recognizes that you need your "space".

He spies and reports on every person who approaches you to know if they are to be trusted. Regardless of your opinion, that is up to him to decide.

It will be better for everyone's sake that no one dares to even draw a tear from you or else he will commit the most violent and bloody murder. Eventually you will realize that this person has disappeared.

He doesn't show you affection in front of others, for him that's too private, but he also doesn't bother if it's you who shows some kind of affection, in that case, he doesn't ignore you.

When it's just the two of you alone, he never lets go, he's a cat that climbs on top of you to lick your neck.

During sex he has absolute control over your body, he knows perfectly where to touch you and how to make you go crazy. He uses his hybrid form to leave marks like scratches and some bites.

On special occasions he likes to be treated as a pet and to wear a collar to dominate him and follow your orders.

Shanks

He is very attentive and dedicated, he treats you with great delicacy and gentleness. Very gentlemanly.

He will always give you the best of the best, you will never be disappointed. He looks for the best treasures to be your property.

He will make you laugh many times, he is a very funny man, especially when he is drunk.

All the time he is talking about you. Even when he fights with his enemies, before finishing them he presumes that he has to leave quickly because he has to kiss someone.

He recognizes your strength and independence but is secretly terrified of something bad happening to you.

In a drunken state is when he is most sexually active and becomes a complete stranger, he is very wild. He has a fetish for smells and is very aroused by the contact when both are sweaty. In the midst of this activity he likes to talk dirty.

Sir Crocodile

It must be a miracle when he says something nice about you. He is not very affectionate, it is very difficult for him, sometimes it seems that he is not even interested in you.

He is a man of very few words, he has peculiar ways of letting you know he loves you and makes sure they are unique and special.

He does not like you to get involved in his work. He will keep the relationship very private and would expect you to do the same.

He is very jealous, as soon as someone wants to flirt with you, Crocodile squeezes your waist with his hook.

He doesn't like to murder people when you are present, he thinks it's something you shouldn't witness.

Although he thinks Buggy is an idiot, he is one of the few people next to Mihawk that he feels safe for you to be with.

When it comes to sex he is rough and gentle at the same time. He makes sure you feel comfortable. After that he feels more open to express his feelings and tell you how much he loves you.

I had a lot of fun writing this hahahahaha, hope you like it <3

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 1

Source for the pic

Firestarter 1

Word Count: 3056

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Special Warning 2 : Below the summary is the masterlist. I advise reading the introductory chapters first, as they give a sense of the story, introduce characters and locations and, this chapter starts off immediately after the Sanji chapter.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: Here's the first chapter of Ace's story. I've been having a blast writing this, I do hope you enjoy it as well. If you want to be tagged when I post a new chapter, let me know! Also, don't be shy, I'd love to read about your thoughts! Thank you! ❤️

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

Next Chapter

After lunch you take another quick stroll through town and ask around for some part-time jobs, but nothing’s available so you return to your car, ready to go home and hoping Nami and Robin can help you find that job, like they promise they would. 

But the car doesn't start. 

You try to do what your father said, as silly and idiotic as it may seem. You pet the dash of the car and the steering wheel and coo at them in a soothing voice. 

“Hi, sweetheart. You're going to work for me now, aren't you? You're a pretty little girl, aren't you?” 

Rolling your eyes and inhaling deeply, you turn the key again and the engine sputters and chokes almost catching but it doesn't and you grunt. 

You spend the next fifteen minutes alternating between spewing pretty words at the car and shouting ugly insults, but the car is dead. Finally you give up and call your dad. 

“Dad, the stupid car won't start!” you whine like a teenager, not caring because you're annoyed and upset. 

“Have you tried-...”

“Yes!” You interrupt. “I've tried everything! I've tried being nice and petting it, and I've tried being mean and hitting it. None of it is working!”

You hear Ace's loud guffaws in the background and instantly blush. “One of those options usually gets me started!” He shouts and you ignore him. You hadn't realised you were on speaker. Shanks starts to go into detail about what you should do but you just sigh in exasperation. 

“Can you come help me, dad? Please?” You add another little whine to your voice because that might do the trick. He sighs on the other end and concedes so you tell him exactly where you are parked. 

You still try to get the car to work while you wait, but it only makes you more and more frustrated. On your last attempt, you make the engine overheat and smoke billows everywhere, so you get out of the car, open the hood and wave your hands around to disperse the smoke. 

The smell of burnt oil and smoke is overpowering, and you are soon assaulted by a coughing fit before the cloud dissipates and you manage to take a look inside. Supporting  your weight on your hands, you lean inside, certain that you can find whatever is wrong with it despite having zero knowledge of mechanics. You have absolutely no idea what you are looking for. 

“Princess, you wanna kill me?” Ace's voice is deeper than you've ever heard it, and he manages to surprise you enough to elicit a small gasp. 

“Ace!”

He's leaning against the hood of his jeep, legs crossed, a hand on his chest and a smirk on his lips as his eyes drink you in. At least he has a shirt on for once, which is a first since your reencounter. “You can't lean like that while wearing a tiny dress.” He emphasises with hand gestures so you get his point. “Someone might see more than you intended.” His smirk grows. 

Your eyes pierce his without any hint of amusement. “Are you saying that you saw my butt, Mr. Someone?”

His laugh bubbles up in a sweet sound as his freckles dance along with the vibrations and you have to force yourself not to get dragged along into laughter as well. 

“I'm not saying that. I just don't want someone else to see it.” You can't control the small blush that fills your cheeks with embarrassment. The way Ace manages to make you flustered is almost infuriating. 

“Where's my dad?” You ask, deadpan. 

“Couldn't make it.”

“Meaning?” You are proudly becoming Ace-fluent and understanding that everything he says has a double meaning. 

“I volunteered.”

“That's what I thought.” You sigh and he laughs. “Can you actually help?”

He moves away from his jeep and approaches you, supporting one hand on the hood and the other on his hip while casually glancing over the engine. “That's totally fried.” He points at the engine and shakes his head. “You'll need to come with me.” With another languid smirk he points at his jeep. 

“You're bullshitting.”

“I resent that.” His hurt-boy act almost convinces you. 

“No you don't!” 

“I don't. I just like to see you mad at me.” 

You huff and place both hands on your hips while glaring at him. “Be serious, Ace!”

He sighs and this time actually leans properly into the hood, starting to mess with some parts. You have no idea if he's just touching things for the sake of it or if he actually knows what he's doing. 

“I know what I'm doing.” Is he a mind reader? “I help Franky at the firehouse all the time. He's the mechanic, but I know a few basics.”

“Firehouse?”

“Yeah, I'm a firefighter!” He exclaims as if it's something you should've known by now. 

“I didn’t know that.”

“Luffy works with me there as well. It’s hardly a job when we have as much fun as we do.” He chuckles softly. “I guess we’re lucky firefighters since there are barely any accidents where people get hurt. It’s mostly forest fires or small car accidents.”

You nod. “The perks of a small town.” You mumble as you lean closer to see what he’s doing and your shoulders bump and brush together. He’s warm and taut but you focus your eyes on his hands, paying no mind to your closeness. You notice that he’s screwing some oily nuts. He uses just the tip of his middle finger to turn the nuts, and the precision with which he does so is insane.

And he smells nice. How can he smell so good if he’s been working with your father all morning? He smells like…  nature! Some sort of sandalwood or cedarwood with a fresh hint of pine. It’s intoxicating and you try to breathe as little as possible near him.  

“Yeah, and that’s why I have time to help your dad and learn new stuff. Franky’s the genius mechanic, but I’ve got a few tricks.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, but you don’t look at him.

You're still distracted by the nuts and the amount of oil making his fingers glisten as he twirls them. You’re not usually a very carnal girl, but Ace does things to you and your body. Uncontrollable things. Inadvertently, you wet your lower lip and let it catch between your teeth, humming at his answer, or at his actions, you can't quite tell, except that hum sounded quite close to a low grunt. “That's… interesting.” 

Wow. Awesome brain power. You almost kick yourself for that but he immediately catches on and stops his motions, his eyes looking at you hungrily as they pause on your lips and the way you're biting them. Then travel up to your eyes and it’s almost as if he leans into you, like magnets being pulled close together. So close. 

“You alright there, princess?” He exhales sultrily as his warm breath tingles near your face, and you gasp, coming out of your bliss and scratching your head with nervousness. 

“Yes, yes. I'm fine.” You train your eyes back on the car’s insides. “So, is it overheating?”

“Damn right it is.” He mumbles making you look up once more and his eyes never leave your lips. Your breath catches as you pull away from the hood to gain some distance from him. 

But as you do, you take a step back towards the open road, just as a car is going by. 

“Watch it!” He yelps as his oily hand grasps your forearm with a strong grip, that’s sure to bruise, and he pulls you towards him making you collide with his chest with a sound oomph. “That was freaking close!”

Your heart is banging against your chest in an insane rhythm, the adrenaline of almost being hit by a car making you tremble and gasp for air. Ace’s hand is still gripping your forearm tightly and it’s starting to hurt but you can’t seem to find your voice. 

“Drive slower, asshole! You’re in the city” He screams at the car, his other hand wrapping protectively around you and settling on your head, pulling you flush against him. It’s a weird dichotomy, this feeling. One hand holds you tightly with a deathly vice while the other protects and soothes you with a soft caress.

You take a deep breath, inhaling his scent - that strong wooden scent - trying to ground yourself and will your heart to calm down. 

“Are you alright?” He mutters your name softly, trying to shake you out of your slight shock. 

Nodding fervently you pull back, away from his warmth and his intoxicating scent. You find your voice and force it out with a shaky breath. “You’re hurting me, Ace.”

He eyes you quizzically for a moment before realising he’s still holding your arm as if you’re about to be taken away from him. His grip relaxes instantly and he raises his hands releasing a string of apologies. 

“Ah, crap, sorry. I didn’t realise I was still holding you that tightly.”

Your arm hurts and will definitely bruise, but you don’t want him to feel bad about saving you, so you give it a quick massage and dismiss the subject with a smile. “Thank you, Ace. That was quick thinking.”

His face seems deadly serious and you had yet to witness this side of him. “It shouldn’t have to be necessary. The asshole was driving way out of limits. I should’ve gotten his plate number to give to Zoro.” He sighs as his eyes leave the road and finally settle back on you. “You sure you’re alright?”

The slight edge of his voice makes you realise he was also scared, despite not showing it, and you are deeply grateful. “I really am.”

“Oh, shit. I smeared oil all over your arm, hang on.” You look at the arm he was gripping and it is, indeed, covered in greasy oil that transferred from his hand, but you’re fine with it, you’re about to go home, anyway. Yet Ace doesn’t relent, he seems to be looking for a rag or something to wipe your arm with.

“I think I have some wipes in-... no, Ace! That’s not necessary!” But you’re too late. Off with the shirt he goes and now you start to think that he might be allergic to any kind of shirt since he’s always so keen on having his torso bare. 

“I’ll clean you up in a second.” He uses his shirt to wipe your arm and you sigh, knowing full well that this is a useless fight and you can’t win, so you just let him do his thing. 

A string of giggles and high-pitched squeals makes you turn your head to the sidewalk. Sure enough there are two girls giggling in each other’s arms, ogling Ace’s form and you frown.

“Hiiiiii, Ace!” They say in unison, their voices hitting a note that would’ve been able to shatter the finest of crystal glasses. 

Ace’s job is thorough, though, and he only turns when there’s no trace of oil on your arm. But when he does turn, it’s with a cheeky smirk and a tip of his hat. “Hello, ladies!” He leans his hand back into the hood of the car so he can give his full attention to them.

They giggle some more and you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Pathetic.” Mumbling curses between your teeth, you close the hood with vigour, making Ace yelp because you almost caught his hand in the process. “Sorry.” You scorn, not sorry at all. 

Then you reach inside and take out your purse and car keys, locking it in the process, and walk towards Ace’s jeep.

“Let’s just go.” You state coldly.

Why are you acting so jealous? It’s not like Ace is anything to you. You’re not special, you’re nothing to him. 

And you don’t want to be anything to him. So maybe get a grip and stop acting bitchy?

The girls wave goodbye at Ace and one of them tells him to call her because she misses him. You’re not quite sure how your eyes don’t fall out of their sockets from the force with which you roll them. 

Acting bitchy it is, then, you decide as you settle into the passenger seat.

He finally climbs into his jeep and you’re about to ask if he’s seriously going to drive without a shirt on, when he reaches into the backseat - leaning towards your side and making you turn to the window so you don't have to face his naked chest right up your nose - and retrieves another crumpled shirt, putting it on in a swift movement. 

Your eyes follow his earlier movement, to see if there’s an infinite pile of shirts back there, and you release a light snort through your nose at the sight you discover. There’s a folded duvet and a pillow, and thinking about the size of the bed of his jeep, your head instantly makes the assumption on why he keeps that in his car. 

You don’t want to do it, you don’t want to think about it, it just happens. Your mind is stronger than your will and, in a split second, pictures of you and Ace in the back of that jeep course through your head.

The open night sky above you, shining with stars, little dots that act as sole witnesses to your acts of passion;

Languid kisses that trail from your neck, to your chest and end in your lower belly, promising more;

Feather like touches that start on your entwined hands, where he places them above your head. His fingers trace the inside of your raised forearm, tickle your armpit, and follow along your side to your ribs, settling on the bone of your hip, stealing your breath away;

His body slotted above yours, his knee between your legs, keeping them open for him as his chest lowers above you and his lips claim yours;

You shake your head vigorously, mentally chastising yourself for what your mind conjured. He’s a player! You don’t need another fuckboy in your life. Hell, you don’t need another man in your life, period!

“Do you want me to call Kid? He owns the mechanic shop and he can tow your car.”

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of it later. Just take me home, Ace.” You realise how cold you sound and you’re pretty sure he realises that too because he keeps looking at you with his eyebrow raised.

“What happened to your mood, princess? I’m sure Kid can fix your car in a heartbeat.”

He’s seriously that clueless? Figures.

Setting your sight on the open window and the view outside as he starts the jeep, you shake your head.

“Sure. Don’t call me princess.”

Ace settles an arm behind your headrest and turns his body to look back as he reverses the jeep and you force your head to stay still and your eyes to stay glued on the post office signpost across the street.

Fuckboy, player, womaniser. Fuckboy, player, womaniser.

You keep repeating that mantra without fail until he finally faces forward and drives the car. There are few things sexier than a hot man reversing the car like that and you’re not about to add that image of Ace to your already scrambled brain. You refuse. 

“Are your panties in a twist, princess?” He chuckles.

“Two things, Ace. Three, actually.” You raise your fingers as you go and this time you actually look at him. “Don’t talk about my panties, don’t talk to me the rest of the way, and don’t call me princess!” You emphasise the last sentence and end with a hiss and a huff followed by crossing your arms over your chest and turning back to the window. 

You can almost hear the cogs turning inside his head. You’re pretty sure he’s reliving every interaction with you up until this moment and why you’re acting pissed. But you’re not about to admit to him the real reason. 

It’s a freaking stupid reason!

You’re not entitled to be upset. You’re not even entitled to be jealous or pissed. Yet, here you are. So you might as well just roll with it. But you’ll never admit it. Ever.

The ride is tense and it seems longer than it actually is, so you can’t wait to jump out of the jeep as soon as he parks it outside your house, but he presses the button that locks the doors and you sigh while turning to him with a raised brow and pursed lips, waiting for him to speak.

“What did I do?”

“That’s a good start. Always admit to guilt. Men are always at fault.” You snort and try the door, even though you know it won’t budge. 

“Princess, look at me. I really don’t know what I did wrong.” The uncertainty in his voice almost makes you cave, but there’s that freaking nickname again. And it’s getting under your skin. 

“Don't. Call. Me. Princess.”

“That’s it? Is that why you’re upset? ‘Cause I can stop. I don’t want to, you’re my princess.” He jokes but you’re not in the mood for jokes. 

“You know what I think, Ace?” Your angry stare bores into his eyes as his smile suddenly dissolves. “I think you call all your girls princess, or sweetheart, or gorgeous or another stupid, infantile pet name, because you can’t be bothered to learn their actual names!” Your hand grips the handle and you try to open the door again, this time with more force, yet it still doesn’t budge. “At least that way, you’re safe when you actually forget their name because they’re just another notch in your freaking cowboy belt!”

He just stares at you, jaw slack, while his hand grips the wheel. 

“Open this door, Ace! I want to leave.”

You huff again but it takes him a moment to react. Downcasting his gaze he nods and unlocks the door without another word. 

“Thanks for the help.” You tell him before slamming the door and climbing the steps to the porch. This was not how you had envisioned the end of this afternoon. 

At all.

[nina-ya]

hi! i love your work, is it okay if we can get shanks for your wound care series? thank you!

Patching up Shanks' Wounds

Zoro Law Sanji Shanks Ace Luffy Sabo Doflamingo A/N: HI NONNIE! Thank you so much for your request of course you can have the lovely Shanks for the wound care series! Pairing: Shanks x GN!Reader CW: None WC: 887

You thought the whole world had collapsed when you had heard the trembling voice of Shanks over the Den Den Mushi pleading for your help. You dropped what you were doing and sprinted to his location. A million thoughts raced in your head: how could the Shanks get injured like this? What kind of enemy could he possibly have encountered? Just how bad are his injuries?

As you round the corner, your eyes locked onto Shanks, and your heart pounded in your chest. Your gaze scanned him, assessing for any signs of injuries, but wait… where were his injuries? Your panic increased, and adrenaline coursed through your body, your mind in turmoil. He seemed just fine? Shanks let out a hearty laugh at your reaction and extended his pointer finger to you.

“I think I’ve gotten a splinter,” he declared, a grin stretching across his face.

Your jaw dropped, and you blinked in disbelief. “Red-haired Shanks, you did not just make me panic over a splinter!” you shouted, exasperation clear in your voice.

He shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes twinkling playfully. “Hey, hey, calm down. This is a very serious injury,” he says, his tone clearly teasing as he waved his hand dramatically to emphasize the importance of the splinter.

Your chest heaves as you attempt to calm down. “Shanks, you are insufferable.” You mutter out in irritation. You walk over to him and smack him across the head. He whines out dramatically even though your hit didn't actually hurt in the slightest. “Next time you call me like that you better be ten seconds away from death, you got it? Now show me your damn splinter.” You say in irritation.

“My, my, so angry, do I always get you this worked up?” He teases, with that same playfulness in his eyes.

You sigh, shaking your head at his antics. “It’s a special talent of yours, Captain. Now, let me see the splinter before I decide to make it a more serious injury.”

He chuckles, extending his finger to you to inspect. “Alright, I promise to only call for medical emergencies next time. No more splinter crises.”

You examine the splinter closely. It was barely a sliver of wood embedded in his finger. You grab a pair of tweezers and with one quick and precise motion, you remove it. Shanks winces, not from the pain, but from the exaggerated theatrics that he decided to play up for you. Once the ordeal is over, you can’t help but roll your eyes at him and smile. “There, all better,” you say, your voice laced with fond exasperation.

Shanks flexes his finger and grins at you. “You’re my savior. Now, how do you plan on rewarding me for being brave and handling the pain?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Reward you? How about I just don’t ban you from the infirmary for life for wasting my time?”

He pouts playfully, “Wasting your time? I think that's a bit harsh don't you think?”

“Well, Captain, you do have a knack for keeping me on my toes at all times and for making the simplest things an adventure.”

He flashes you a charming grin, leaning closer as if to share a secret. “It’s because I have the most excellent nurse who can turn the most mundane situations into unforgettable moments.”

Your heart skips a beat as his gaze locked onto yours, and his words carried a hint of something deeper. “Is that so?” you ask, your voice softening, unsure if you were still talking about the splinter or something entirely different.

Shanks nods, his expression turning playful once more. “Absolutely. And you know, and I still think I deserve a reward for my bravery today.”

You are brought out of your trance for just that moment and you take his hand in yours, your fingers lightly brushing against the calloused skin.. You bring his finger up to your lips and lightly plant a soft, lingering kiss on it, the delicate sensation of his roughened fingertip sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.. “There, all better. Is that what you wanted?” You ask, a playful smile gracing your lips, eyes locking with one another in an unspoken exchange of shared humor and affection.

Shanks chuckles, the sound warm and endearing. “Hey, only a kiss on my finger for all my troubles? Such a prude you are.”

A mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you lean closer, your lips just barely brushing against his ear. “Maybe if you get injured somewhere else you’ll get a kiss there too.”

He raises an eyebrow, his grin widening, and his voice dropping to a murmur.“I see… So, uh, I happen to have this splinter in my lips too, and one gnarly one right below the belt-”

You interrupt him with an exasperated huff, a playful swat to his arm and a mock glare. “Shanks, so help me, I am going to murder you right here, right now.”

The two of you shared a laugh, and in that moment as your laughter echoed in the room, it was clear that even the simplest of interactions with Shanks had a way of turning into something more, something extraordinary. It was in these moments, full of playful banter and shared laughter, that the connection between you and Shanks truly shines.

[merbear25]

Greetings Mear! I really love your writing! I was wondering if I may request kid,shanks, law with a cute/sweet personlity, Some traits I like too add if don't mind^^ ,Very thoughtful, culeless at times ,Over all just cute ,and the reader is blind,You can write this in any scenario you wish for.

Anyways have a good day!!!

Thanks so much for your work💕💞🫂🫂💜💕💞

Thank you so much for your kind words! It truly means a lot to me. These were an interesting three to choose for this but oh so cute! I hope you don’t mind that I added a haki ability to the reader. I hope you like what I’ve written for you. 💜💜

CW: fluff, gn!reader, reader is blind but can use haki, could be read as platonic or romantic

Their light in this dark world (Kid, Shanks, Law)

Kid

You didn’t have the most pleasant first encounter. While you were wandering through the market, you got swept up in all the commotion and let your perception waver a bit, which led to you bumping into Kid. By his stature alone, you were knocked back a few steps. 

The low grumble of a threat emerged from him when he first laid eyes on you. Before he could throw in many curses, you cut him off by profusely apologizing. Huffing and rolling his eyes at you, you seemed harmless and pathetic enough not to give the incident much thought.

He grumbled under his breath when he left, but he kept an eye on you. There was something about you that had caught his eye—he just couldn’t put his finger on it. 

As he saw you stumbling about here and there, he almost lost interest, what with nearly labeling you as a lost cause. However, there were little moments when you showed some potential with your haki abilities, to which he felt the need to approach you again.

There were a few bumps the both of you had to navigate once joining his crew, one of which being how you would unintentionally cause problems with your cluelessness. That being said, the heart-felt apology you’d muster always made him blush a bright red—moments that he was secretly happy he’d never have to worry about you witnessing.

Even with all his huffing and puffing at your thoughtfulness and sweet actions, he enjoyed having you around. You were truly a delightful member to have alongside him, and even if he’d never admit it, you were the light he didn’t realize he needed.

Shanks

He and his crew had docked the port of your city not long ago and were enjoying their time amongst the friendly locals and plentiful food and drink. Shanks was off by himself relaxing under the sun’s rays when he noticed you strolling by.

You seemed content walking down the street; you held a pleasant smile that was illuminated by the light. Watching you from afar, he could tell that there was something different about you, but of course, he couldn’t be certain until being properly introduced.

As you made your way to the fountain, you took out a coin. After whispering something to yourself, you tossed it in and took a seat on the edge.

Admiring you and the delicate nature you held in your posture, he felt enticed by your charm. Upon introducing himself, it was clear that the quality that seemed to have set you apart from the others was your blindness.

However, after exchanging pleasantries, it was obvious that your condition wasn’t the only thing that made you unique: your sweet character, your displays of thoughtfulness, and your kind soul were rarities in this gloomy world. You captivated him through conversation and eventually took the plunge on boarding his ship to sail the seas with him.

You held a lot of inner strength, making you a skilled haki user and even though that meant you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, you were still guarded by one of the most loyal—Shanks. With his curiosity getting the better of him, he asked what you wished for that day you met. 

“To live a life worth sharing.”

Law

While some of his crew was off gathering much needed supplies in town, he and the others were tending to the submarine. As the ones who were trusted with the job of collecting goods ventured into the nearby town, they were finding it a bit difficult to find their way around. 

Their arguing caught your attention, so you offered your assistance. With such overwhelming gratitude, you were touched knowing you’d made that much of a difference. As you led them to the places on their checklist, you really came to like them—they appeared to be genuinely nice people.

They invited you to meet everyone else and to show their appreciation properly, which you gladly accepted. As you were being introduced to everyone, warmth radiated off each and every one of them. That was until you felt a blistering cold emitting from the side.

With such an intense aversion coming from their captain, you treated him just as you did everyone else—with tenderness and care. Though your time getting to know them wasn’t long, Law made a passing comment on your impressive haki abilities, to which you replied that you really hadn’t been given any other choice if you wanted to live a life with independence.

Respecting your answer, you two came to have a rather pleasant conversation, causing his icy demeanor to melt and be replaced with something more welcoming. With them having to stay docked in the area for a while longer due to repairs, you swung by nearly every day to help in any way you could, further earning their trust.

With the crew practically begging Law to offer you a spot on board, he rolled his eyes but ultimately folded to their request. He’d been mulling over the idea of having you join for a little bit and seeing how you were able to overcome adversity while maintaining that affectionate nature made it difficult not to want such a ray of hope by his side.

[kittyoncescribbled]

Check-Mate, part 3.

Summary: Mihawk thought he was too old to believe in silly things like love at first sight, but things change;

Word count: 2,712;

Rating/Content Warnings: PG-16, AFAB reader;

Author’s note: ... What can I say, goth man makes my brain go brrrrrr lol Also, Shanks is making an appearance on the next chapter! Please reblog/like if you enjoy this!

Previous chapter || Next chapter

The goodbyes were, surprisingly, tearless.

You kept your composure, delivering handwritten notes to each of the crew members, taking your time to hug each of them, even if Sanji lingered a bit too much in his hug and smooching both Chopper and Luffy on their cheeks. You stood in the land, waving them off, and you stood there until you couldn't see the Thousand Sunny. Mihawk, who didn't come to the pier, could see your silhouette from one of the windows in the mansion; he could tell you were hurting, but he didn't want to step on any toes - and he didn't know what he was supposed to do if you started crying as you did in the library.

As much as he knew you were safe, Mihaw was restless until the sun started setting and you returned inside. He looked for you, but you remained inside your room with the door closed; he could hear you rummaging through things, probably settling in. He hesitated for a moment but knocked on the door.

You opened it with a curious look on your face, and MIhawk could see a small mess of clothes, shoes, and personal items behind you. His eyes lingered on it for a bit before coming back to your face, and he admired the way you never seemed to flinch from him as most people did; due to his title and his fame, most people tended to be scared or tried sucking up to him, but with you, he only saw shyness and lack of knowing where you stood. Mihawk had considered that you were in quite an uncomfortable place: a young woman, a runaway, who was now living with an older man who you didn't know. He could feel that you were scared but not scared of him: you were scared of the situation.

“Miss Y/N, now that the straw hats are gone, you might feel a bit… uncomfortable by yourself. Please know you're free to roam the whole place, apart from my quarters.” You nodded in agreement, looking like a puppy seeking approval. “Whenever you are hungry, you can help yourself to anything in the fridge, just clean up after yourself. The library is also free for you to use; just don't leave it messy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But apart from that, you are free to do as you please. I would avoid the pier to ensure no one sees you, but the garden and orchard in the back of the house should be fine.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you don't need to call me sir.”

“Yes, s-” you cut yourself off, your face acquiring a pinkish tinge; damn, maybe you should keep calling him that. “Yes.”

“I will go to the kitchen and cook dinner in about fifteen minutes. Would you care to join?” Your face lit up, and your lips, even though he could still see the mark from the attack you had suffered, stretched into a smile. “Sure! I'll meet you downstairs. Let me just change my clothes first.” Mihawk nodded and turned his back silently, leaving you be.

When you made your way downstairs, Mihawk was already chopping tomatoes in one of the counters. After Sanji’s words before leaving, you took the time to really look at the pirate for the first time.

In more plain clothes than you had seen him before, Mihawk was as handsome as ever. You could see the muscles working under the milky skin as if the effort being done were nothing, his piercing yellow eyes focusing on the task at hand as a small crease that you wanted to smooth out with your thumb formed between them. His raven locks, away from his face, shone under the kitchen lights and you could hear him humming a tune.

It felt awkward to see such a dangerous man in a domestic environment, almost like you had walked into something you shouldn’t have seen. Slowly, you approached him and, resting your hip against the counter, asked, “So… how can I help?”

Mihawk had been aware of your presence since you turned around the corner but didn't acknowledge you at first, seeing what you would do. He saw you looking at him, unashamed as you thought he didn't know he was being observed, and allowed you to study him.

He would pay a good amount of berries to know your opinions.

“First, you could go down to the wine cellar and bring us a bottle of wine. After that, you can start cooking the pasta.” Obediently, you nodded and walked away to do as you were told, and Mihawk looked up from the chopping board in time to admire your figure in a simple white skirt and a lilac sweater with a high collar; your legs had minor bruises that were starting to fade away, but that was not enough to diminish the elegance of your shape. Your hair pulled up in a ponytail showed the form of the back of your neck hidden by your clothes. He guessed you would keep on wearing those until the marks around your neck had disappeared.

Seeing you making your way back to the kitchen, Mihawk pointed to where you could find wine glasses, and you poured for both of you. When taking his glass from you, Mihawk let his hand linger for a moment, brushing his fingers against yours and he was rewarded with the vision of blood rushing to your cheeks and you trying to hide it by immediately turning away to start cooking.

Mihawk liked that you both were able to fall into a comfortable silence; he would never admit it out loud, but he enjoyed having Perona and Zoro around — he just disliked how noisy both of them were, Perona in particular. The two of you moved in synchrony, as if you were used to each others or years now.

Leaving you to do the final touches on the meal, Mihawk left to set the table. Ever since Zoro and Perona had left, that was the first time he had company for dinner and he felt himself a little nervous, which he ultimately thought was stupid; he was too old for this bullshit, and you were not old enough to be causing such a comotion inside of him, a man who strived for harmony. He didn’t like being out of balance, but you were like an itch he had to scratch.

The two of you ate in silence, apart from a shy compliment on your part on his homemade sauce - which he enjoyed far more than he would like to admit. You insisted on doing the dishes and basically shooshed him out of the kitchen. A bit amazed by the fact that he was being expelled from his own kitchen, Mihawk went up to the library with his wine glass, where he picked up a book, set up his record player, and sat down to read.

When you came to join him, you walked in, trying to make as little noise as possible. You sat down next to the chess table close to one of the windows, put down your wine glass, and brought one of your knees to your chess, thinking. Mihawk, seeing that, got up and, without saying a word, took the place in front of you. He kept reading his book during your turns, and you examined the stars during his. Mihawk, trying to be gentlemanly, did his best to avoid looking at the strip of skin that showed from under your skirt; however, he couldn’t avoid that his gaze would eventually make its way to the back of your thighs.

Once again, you seemed to drag your turn, unsure of yourself and if the move was the correct one. Mihawk kept trying to encourage you - “Miss Y/N, this is just a game of chess. There's no need to overanalyze it.” Eventually, you pouted and sighed. “Yeah, well, this is easy for you to say. You’re the best swordsman in the world, right? I’m not the best at anything, I’m struggling to be mediocre at everything”.

Mihawk thought to himself that this was probably not true and that even though ambition and persistence were something he prized very much - if it weren’t for Roronoa’s will to eventually surpass him, he would never have entertained the idea of training him -, he thought you were being too hard on yourself.

And he wasn’t willing to admit he was being biased.

“I understand the aspiration to continually strive for self-improvement, and I believe it is important to pursue personal development in a constructive manner. It is not advisable to be overly critical of oneself in this pursuit. However, if there is a genuine desire for self-improvement, it should be pursued diligently.”

You smiled and looked down at the chess board, finally making your move. “I think… It’s just another way of being afraid of messing up things, you know? I’ve been pressured all my life to be perfect, my uncle kept telling me that he’d never find a suitor for me because I was useless, so he had me trained in a bunch of stuff that I wouldn’t necessarily need, like cooking, baking, sewing and a bunch more. Just to appease some future hypothetical husband.” Mihawk could feel the disdain in your voice, sharp as a knife. “So… I may not have a lot of life skills, but I can bake you a lovely apple pie while I sew buttons to your shirt. Nice, huh?”

Mihawk didn’t reply, as he didn’t know what to say; the swordsman just took a sip of wine and watched as your face grew redder and redder, and it seemed like you were fighting with emotions internally.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be throwing all of this on you.” You said with a modulated voice, clearly trying to sound nonchalant. “I think it’s best if I go back to my room, I still need to finish organizing my clothes.”

“Certainly, Y/N. We can resume this at a later time.” With a nod, you walked out of the room, leaving Mihawk to finish his wine glass by himself.

Eventually, you two discovered a routine that seemed to work: during the day, Mihawk would leave you be, and by the noises around the house, he knew that you spent most of your day reading, playing chess, or baking; whenever you crossed paths in the halls, you would acknowledge him with a smile. At night, you would cook together, mostly in silence, or, on the occasion that Mihawk would indulge you, you would sit on a stool near the counter and read the newspaper for him. He could sense in your voice how proud you were every time there was a headline about the strawhats, and he took notice of your keeping those pages for yourself.

When you were done eating, Mihawk would either bring you to the library, where you would continue a match of chess you had started the previous night, or you would make your way to the garden, where you propped your telescope — that Franky so kindly took out of the Sunny for you — and studied the night sky while Mihawk, after setting up some old record in his record player, sat next to you reading a book.

Slowly, like a flower blossoming during spring, you started opening up to him: how life was before running away, the friends you had left behind, how your uncle treated you, how your parents passed, your likes and dislikes… Mihawk collected those pieces of information as if they were pearls to put on a string, as collectively, they were the experiences that formed who you were. As much as he wasn't someone who enjoyed small talk, he was a good listener, and as he had said to the cook, he was curious about you.

He was enjoying taking his time knowing you, which made him even more grumpy when taking notice of his next mission.

That night, after dinner, Mihawk presented you with a tiny den den mushi. “Y/N, I will be leaving Kuraigana for a while as I have a business to deal with. This den den mushi is so you can still communicate with me, even when I'm away, in an emergency.” You looked sad while taking the little snail from his hands and looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. “It'll be lonely in this big house by myself, but I hope you'll come back safe.”

“Fuck,” Mihawk thought, “It is nice to have someone waiting for you back home.”

You had called Mihawk almost every night; he got a little startled the first time, but you called for five minutes just to check with him. But now, a week and a half later, your calls lasted a little longer while you told him about your day: you were taking care of his garden for him, finished a couple of books, rearranged the furniture in your room, read about the strawhats in the newspaper. Mihawk spent most of the calls quietly listening, but the sound of your voice was soothing enough for him to set his usual grumpiness and stoic nature for a moment and spoil himself by pretending he was back at home.

“God, I hope I’m not bothering you. I’ve been blabbering non-stop for a long time now, haven’t I?”

“To some extent, yes.” Mihawk felt your hesitation on the line.

“Sorry. I’m just used to having a lot of people around me, either the servants back home or the guys in the Thousand Sunny… I don’t know how to be alone. But I apologize, I understand you’re busy, and I shouldn’t be distracting you. Just… Do you know when you’re coming back?”

“Three days. Around lunchtime.”

“Ok! Thanks. I’ll let you go now. Bye!” And just like that, you were gone.

Mihawk wished you kept calling.

As always, Mihawk started relaxing as soon as he saw the silhouette of Kuraigana; every time he had to leave home, he held his breath until he came back. Looking up, he could see a small shadow in one of the top windows, which vanished as soon as he saw it.

After finally stepping foot on dry land, Mihawk started walking the distance to the castle, holding onto his coat, trying to make sure that his surprise wouldn’t escape his arms. With a smile, you were waiting for him in the entrance hall, and he could smell something in the kitchen. Now that you were wearing shorts and a t-shirt, Mihawk could see that the bruises had faded away during the time he was out of Kuraigana. “Welcome back!”

“I have brought something for you. ”You looked up at the pirate, curious and shy.

“Oh god, please don’t bother with me. You don’t need to get me things.”

“You said you were lonely, so I merely brought you some companion,” Mihawk said, opening his coat and revealing, curled up to his side, a tiny black kitten with striking yellow eyes. You immediately cooed at the little pet, taking it into your arms and cradling the kitty like a baby. “He’s so cute! What’s his name?”

“He is yours. You name him.” You held the cat until you could stare it in the eyes.

“Midnight? What do you think, huh? Do you feel like Midnight?” The cat licked your nose, eliciting a giggle out of you. Mihawk, despite feeling tired from traveling, felt a warmth on his chest.

With a smile big and bright enough to outshine the sun itself, you looked up to the swordsman. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. Now let’s get to the kitchen. I’ve baked a lasagna, and there’s a cherry pie in the oven, too.” Still carrying Midnight in your arms, you went to the kitchen without looking back.

Mihawk could do nothing but follow you. 

[noproofread]

The Regular (NSFW)

i have to stop listening to chase atlantic

Shanks x afab!reader (no pronouns used but feminine traits are present)

oral (male recieving), public, masturbation, dom!shanks if you squint, Shanks is turned on and needs reader to help him right then and there, skull fucking, idk standard porn lmao.

word count: 1,004

masterlist here

The red-haired pirate entered your bar again. He had been frequenting your bar for the past couple of months as his crew was docked on your island awaiting repairs for their ship. Through mutual flirty glances and suggestive one-liners, it was no secret both of you had something. You purposefully wore skirts that kept getting smaller the more he came to the bar. His crew had commented on your ass, making their captain upset. It seemed he believed that he was the only one who could talk about you like that. To objectify you. You weren't opposed to it, you reveled in it. You would bend over in front of him, teasing him, tempting him to grab you and take you right then and there.

It was a fun game, to see how far you could go before he would break. It had to be a matter of time, he could barely look at you without excusing himself to the bathroom to take care of himself. You loved to watch him get red as he uncomfortably waddled to the bathroom, barely making it inside before his hand was in his pants. You started it by wearing low cut shirts first, making sure to lean forward just enough to where he could see into your shirt. However, you quickly found that mini skirts did it for him. You began wearing them more often. Some with slits on the side to really get him going.

You looked forward to seeing him in your bar. This time was no different. Your skirt was so small it was practically nonexistent. Red-haired Shanks sat at the bar, his face was a deep crimson. He was visibly frustrated. He used his index and middle finger to gesture to you to get closer. You bit your bottom lip and obliged, leaning over to Shanks. “Look at what you caused… Now you have to fix it.” He whispered in your ear as he pointed to the growing bulge in his pants. You looked at him, your face feeling hot as your heartbeat quickened. Trying your best to contain your excitement, you pointed to the back. He shook his head, quickly hopping over the bar. He began unbuttoning his pants, you quickly glanced across the room. Nobody was paying attention to you, they were all engrossed in their drunken conversations. Shanks chuckled under his breath.

"Kneel down sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched, looking back at Shanks. Noticing his pants were now pooled at his feet. Your mouth salivated as you scanned his dick. You nodded, looking into his eyes. His eyes closed as soon as he felt your breath on his erection. You licked the tip slowly, running your tongue down to the base. A hiss escaped the red-haired pirate as he threw his head back. You shushed him, you didn't want your patrons to realize what was happening mere feet away from them. He laughed breathlessly as he nodded in agreement. You carefully began placing gentle kisses on the shaft. Shanks’ hand found its way to the back of your head, gripping a fistful of your hair. “Love, I’m not here for games.” He reprimanded you.

You nodded your head, not breaking eye contact. You slowly took him in your mouth. You felt him twitch a little as he got used to the warmth surrounding him. “fuck~” a hushed whisper fell from his lips as he instinctively bucked his hips forward, hitting your throat in the process. You had little control of your movements, being pushed onto him by the hand that was gripping the back of your head. Low grunts and soft moans left Shanks, just soft enough that they blended in with the loud chatter of the environment. You used one of your hands to massage your clit, needing sensation to take care of your pooling arousal that had dampened your panties.

Seeing Shanks enjoying your mouth did things to you. The way he threw his head back with his eyes closed. His brows were furrowed as he focused on the rising feeling within him with every thrust. Your fingers slipped beneath your panties as you rubbed gentle circles onto your clit. Quiet moans formed in your throat. Shanks looked down at you, admiring the way you looked wrapped around him. He watched you play with yourself as you sucked his dick. Drool covering him completely. Just the sight of you was enough to make him cum. An echo of soft “yeah’s” came from the red-haired pirate, making complete eye contact with you. Your own movements became sloppy as your fingers were completely coated with your slick. You pumped two fingers into you as your thumb rubbed your clit. You felt a heat build up in your stomach. You held your breath at times to keep you from screaming out his name. Your pussy felt hot, throbbing sensitively into your hand as you tried to get yourself off. You held Shanks’ gaze, feeling yourself inch closer to your release. Shanks bit his bottom lip to contain his grunts as he climaxed, shooting sticky cum into your throat. You swallowed it, watching him hunch over as he sighed deeply in satisfaction.

The mere sight of him unraveling to your touch sent you over the edge, allowing you to cum all over your fingers. Shanks pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you to him. He kneeled down to your level, scruffing your hair. You were panting, trying to catch your breath. “When you get off work I want to feel all of you…” He whispered, sitting on the floor to dress himself. You felt yourself blush at his proposition. He kissed your forehead, standing up and taking his place at the other side of the bar. “A whiskey neat please. When you get the chance, barkeep.” He winked, shaking an empty glass in the air momentarily before setting down. You straightened yourself up before taking the glass in your hand. “Right away!” You cheerfully replied, winking back at him.

[usopps-devotee]

Not your fault

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, someone PLEASE give luffy a hug he needs it

@zoro-kun because you love angst

@euphofic because you also love angst as well as luffy

W.c 1.1k

Part 2: Burnout

It had been late and you were tired, unlike the rest of the crew who seemed to have boundless energy, you just wanted to sleep. Fight after fight, days with little to no rest, yet they still had the energy to party. You on the other hand went back to the ship to get some rest.

Luffy hadn't expected anyone to leave the bar, nor had he expected someone to come back to the ship when yall rented a room for the time spent on the island. He didn't hear the sound of you stepping on the deck of the sunny or walking up to him till it was too late to hide. Mortified as you stare at his tear-stained face, he's expecting you to tell him to suck it up, be a man, and so many other ways of telling him that his emotions made him weak.

Instead, you walk towards him slowly and carefully as if approaching a wild animal, holding your arms out for an embrace. You have no clue what's going through your captain's head, no one ever does, it's one of Luffy's many mysteries. All you know is he needs comfort, he looks like he wants to run, and knowing Luffy he just might. Seeing him hesitate you drop to the deck, not caring about the pain that shot through your already aching knees, arms still held out.

He's clinging to you in an instant, rubber arms pulling his body to yours, knocking the both of you over. His sniffles now sob as he cried into your chest, your shirt is immediately soaked in tears and snot but for the moment you could care less. You ran a hand through his hair, nails caressing his curls and scalp as his hat lay on the floor. Your other hand rubbed comforting circles in his back, slowly deviating in shape. You're startled by the small sorry that left your captain, you've never heard his voice so strained, so pitiful. Heart-shattering in a million pieces as you hold him tighter.

"It's okay Luffy, I promise. Let it all out, I'm here for you."

At that moment, whatever emotions he desperately tried to hold on to slipped through him like water. Years of guilt, anger, sadness, and who knows what else he may not have been able to express, are finally being felt. He's squeezing you so tightly in the back of your mind you're worried you might pop. You remind yourself that his ache is worse than yours, what you've injured for minutes, he's suppressed for years.

Eventually, Luffy lets you know what's on his mind, you're not even sure if he knows he's doing so. Babbling about his past and every mistake he's ever made, losing both sabo and ace, almost losing his crew, every time he's lost a fight, he even tells you about shanks losing his arm. All while blaming himself, blaming his incompetence, his arrogance, his weaknesses, his emotions, everything luffy perceived to be a flaw about himself. Choking on his own words while crying, between hiccups and gasping for air.

You had no clue he had been feeling this way, you doubted the rest of the crew did as well. Before this, you wouldn't have had a clue in the world about the stresses he holds on to. What thoughts keep him awake at night, what he fears more than anything else? Now more than ever you want to keep him safe from the rest of the world.

"If I wasn't so weak things would have turned out better."

"Luffy, it's not your fault. None of it is. Some of these things happened to you as a kid. Even with allies around that was stronger than you might have been at the time, not even they could have stopped what happened. It's not your fault."

Luffy finally lifted his head to look at you, he looked broken, the sight alone almost make you start to cry as well. Tears still flowing like rivers in Egypt, you're in denial about how much snot is covering the both of you. His eyes look over every detail of your face to look for a lie, to see the moment when the rug is pulled from under him and you become just as cold as everyone before. He doesn't expect you to place the straw hat back on his head and brush his hair out of his face, he doesn't expect you to pull him closer and kiss him on the forehead.

He's completely astonished when you tell him that it's okay. It's okay to be afraid sometimes, it's okay to have regrets, and it's okay to have made mistakes, and everyone does. He's never been able to let his guard down around anyone this much, he doesn't know what to do with all the trust he's placed in you. Luffy feels like he's been shattered and here you are picking up the pieces from so long ago.

Another sob racked through his body at your words, he's trembling like a leaf, and the only thing keeping him grounded is you. For years Luffy has been told by so many others his emotions are unacceptable. To hear you speak this truth so softly, so sweetly, he almost wants to deny it but he can't. He wants to cut in and say the things he could, or rather in his head, should have done. He wants to give a rebuttal to every claim that you've laid to rest. But he can't, he just can't.

There is logic to what you have to say, there's reasoning in your words he can't deny. If anything he's questioning all the others who told him not to cry, not to feel, not to express or let anything out. He's doubting what he's been taught, parts of him wonder what other lies he's been told, he'll have to ask you one day.

Slowly but surely he calms down, sniffling as he tries to catch his breath. Taking the time while he's off of your chest, you removed the soaked shirt, wiping away the rest of the tears and snot covering his face. "Why don't we get something to eat hmm? I'm sure the walk and some good food will help." He nods hesitantly, despite his lack of movement. You toss the shirt aside to worry about it later. For now, you're worried about the fact that Luffy's eyes had yet to leave the ground, and when they do he ask you a question that you could never deny.

"Can you hold me for just a little longer?"

[hey-august]

August, if you ever wonder if some of your readership would like to hear your thoughts about Buggy and Reader in a poly relationship with either crossguild or Shuggy… WELP. There’s at least one.

I just want that clown to smooch me and also several other men who may or may not scare the shit out of him or incite deep feelings of rage in him. He’s very smoochable and I’m willing to share (and I just like to think about the added hilarity with any of these characters still in the picture)

omgggg yes!! I deeply adore the dynamics of all those relationships. The clown is just so...adaptable? Blendable? Sharable? Adorable.

I do have some Shanks x Buggy x Reader headcanons to share!

But first, for Cross Guild x Reader needs, I so strongly recommend @discordantwritings stories here (I'm pretty sure Our Precious Assistant Pt 2 changed my brain chemistry) and @turtletaubwrites' Numbers Game, which just started and is so good already. ❤️❤️❤️

Nowwww, let's talk Shuggy x Reader.

Word count: ~1.2k Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, shanks x buggy x GN!reader, mix of fluffy and smutty thoughts, teasing, oral reader + m receiving, insertion sex, threesome, some praise, sorry for anything that's extremely ooc

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Date Nights

The first time you had a planned date with Shanks, Buggy sailed away so “date night” became “date week.” Buggy was jealous and embarrassed, which you both expected. You were annoyed at first, because this had been planned and discussed, but talking with Shanks calmed you down. This was new territory for all of you and it would take time to navigate. So when Buggy came back, no one made a fuss about it. If anything, you and Shanks were a little softer and a little kinder with the clown. Buggy picked up on the acceptance in your actions and it made him feel better. This also kicked off weekend-long dates, which you all look forward to.

One of your favorite dates with Shanks was when he took you to a town he frequented. The afternoon was spent strolling Main Street and shopping, although that was more of an excuse for Shanks to show you off. The evening ended at a cozy pub where he regaled you with alluring tales. Even though you heard some of them before, listening to him talk puts stars in your eyes. An expression that simply melts him.

Your favorite Buggy date was actually a party on his ship. You two were inseparable the entire night and the highlight was singing along to music at the end of the night. “Singing.” You were both bottles deep and could hardly get full words out, but the (hazy) memory of laughing and giggling your ways through the inebriated performance while holding on to each other always makes you smile. Buggy often catches that particular goofy grin on your face and he just adores it.

Buggy and Shanks also spend time together, which is surprising-not surprising. Buggy might claim that he’s upset with Shanks and needs to go yell at him, or wants to gloat about something. Shanks tries to entice Buggy with the promise of shiny goodies and treasure. Everyone knows it’s a farce, but it’s how they show they care for each other. There’s no denying the sparks in their eyes afterwards.

Petty Arguments

When these two get together, their inner children teens come out in full swing. And so do the jokes and petty arguments.

Shanks messes with Buggy any chance he gets. Teasing comments, swapping his nearly empty drink with Buggy’s fuller glass, dumb jokes.

He’ll also tease you, but in the form of cheesy pick-up lines. “If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put U and I together.” “I was feeling a little off today, but you've turned me on again.” “Did you do something to my eyes? I can't seem to take them off you.”

Buggy can’t stand when your attention is on Shanks for too long, so he’ll try and out-do the other pirate. He has a repertoire of card drinks and sleight of hands, which often do the trick.

Shanks knows what Buggy is doing and teases him. “I know you’re a performer, but there’s no need to make a scene.” Buggy didn’t like that one.

There was the one time Buggy challenged Shanks to a juggling challenge. When Shanks declined, Buggy was ready with his own comeback. “It’s not because of the arm, it’s because he doesn’t have the balls.” Surprisingly, that spurred Shanks into joining the 2-man competition.

Speaking of being competitive…

Sex with them individually is nothing like having sex all together.

At first, you were often at the mercy of the two men who were intent on proving how well they could pleasure you. Once, they wanted to see who was better at oral and could make you cum the most times. The more orgasms you had, the less lucid you became and the competition turned into finding out who would you beg to fuck you. Even though the countless orgasms emptied your head, you remembered that this all started with oral and you didn’t want to mess with the rules of their contest. When they realized you were trying so hard not to whine and ask for their dicks, they started asking you. - “Baby, want me to fuck you? C’mon, don’t you want to feel this inside you?” - “You look so good on my tongue, but you’d look better on my cock. Tell me you want it.”

Unfortunately (fortunately?) there was no clear winner. Buggy was between your legs yet again, with your fingers entwined in his hair and your head was flopped to the side. You said “please, want you inside,” but they couldn’t agree on who you were talking to. Shanks is adamant that you were looking at him, but Buggy calls bullshit and claims you were talking to him because he was the one making you feel good.

There are sessions where you and Shanks focus more on Buggy. It took a lot of time for Buggy to feel relaxed enough to accept the attention, but you two wore him down and won him over. He’ll rarely admit it, but Buggy loves being sandwiched between you and Shanks. The feeling of sinking his cock into you while he’s stretched around Shanks is so overwhelmingly delicious that Buggy gets greedy. He can’t get enough of moving his hips so he can fuck you and fuck himself on Shanks’ cock. The sweet moans and whimpers he releases are intoxicating. Buggy’s often the first to cum in this position, but Shanks will continue to fuck you through Buggy, knowing how to maneuver Buggy’s hips and thrust until you climax.

In turn, there are the moments where you and Buggy cater to Shanks. He never gets tired of watching you and Buggy fight to suck his leaking cock. The way you struggle to throat his member while Buggy focuses on smearing his face paint on Shanks’ thighs and balls through sloppy kisses is a vision that gets Shanks hard at a moment’s notice. Buggy’s attention is fierce and demanding - he’s trying to unravel Shanks entirely. It's a power trip thing. Whereas you balance that heat with restrained touches. When Shanks cums in your mouth, you always share with Buggy and make sure to show Shanks that you both swallowed his entire load. Seeing you hold Buggy by his hair and squeezing the clown's cheeks to present his empty mouth is a sinfully beautiful encore.

Your favorite times are the ones where you get to spoil Shanks and Buggy. You tend and care to their needs. Your gentleness wipes away their fierce competitive streaks. You make sure that you give them both a surplus of attention and shower them with desire. If you’re riding or under one, your hands and eyes are on the other. You pour praise and compliments until they’re overflowing. And the way it overflows is music to your ears. They turn the praise to you and to each other. - “You look amazing on Buggy’s cock.” - “Get on Shanks and make him feel good, I wanna see that sweet face you make.” - “Pretty thing, you’re taking him so well.” - “Good job, you know how to make him moan so loud.” - “You’re going to make him cum, keep going.”

The cuddles after these sessions? Heavenly. Amazing. Buggy, who normally takes up the entire bed, sleeps so peacefully when you and Shanks are on either side of him. Sometimes, when Buggy passes out first, you’ll claim the middle spot and wake up to the two pirates wrapped around you. It’s a little sweaty and a lot comforting.