#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!

[thetrasha]

He Smells Like...

feat. ZORO, BROOK, LAW, ACE, SHANKS, MIHAWK, CROCODILE

ZORO

…agarwood/jinko/oud, patchouli and black amber.

MOOD: masculine, traditional and earthy

Zoro smells like a forgotten temple that has been taken over by nature. A structure so imposing that the vines running along its architectural design seem insignificant in comparison, but every cut into the finely cut stone tells a story, every blemish reminds the visitor of years of pain. Nonetheless, the temple is still here, having overcome every invasion.

Just like Zoro, who piles other people’s burdens onto his own… just to protect them. He offers security, and only accepts sincere gratitude as payment, nothing else. He cannot change the world, but he would die trying if it came down to it – for his beliefs, his friends… and for you. You care for that abandoned temple of his like a priestess would, never once thinking of leaving it be. Really, you… are his saviour. You wouldn't let him succumb to the elements.

BROOK

…tea leaves, rain and cashmere.

MOOD: unisex, nostalgic and deep

Most people would say that they find the smell of rain comforting, but most people would also much prefer a sunny day. The scent is a circumstance of life – or the absence of it, depending on who you might ask. Standing next to Brook, thus, reminds you of… simpler times, times where happiness was so palpable and so real, more easily within your grasp, when the pressure of life didn’t get to you yet. It doesn’t surprise you at all that he naturally mirrors his soul’s gloom despite having such a joyous and accessibly kind personality.

Brook is beyond glad that you were at peace with his being. He doesn’t quite believe you when you tell him that he doesn’t smell like death at all, but he’d take the compliment with a hearty chuckle. He trusts your judgement more than he trusts his own. Besides, how can he turn you down when you look at him like he's all you've ever dreamt of?

LAW

…books, common sage and lavender.

MOOD: unisex, herbaceous and comforting

Tranquil and calm with a sharp minty tang that vaguely reminds you of medicinal properties, that’s how you’d describe it. It’s so soothing that it might even make some people deliriously sleepy – but again, deeply refreshing. It’s also a bit of an ancient smell, fitting for his old soul that’s been through so much. For someone so disturbed by himself, you think it’s delightful what a calming effect he has on others. Always the voice of reason, always ready to utter a wise word…

So you nurture him when he’s had enough for the day, the week, the entire year. When the noise gets to be too much for him, you enter the room with a fresh cup of tea or coffee – just how he likes it – and talk to him about happier things, things that take his mind off of his demons. Now you’ll never miss that steady presence in your life, just like how he will never miss yours, for you have each other now.

ACE

…common jasmine, honeydew melon and smoke.

MOOD: feminine, light and delicate with musky undertones

A scent that reminiscent of heady spring nights that end up around a barely glimmering bonfire. A marking of new beginnings and scorched earth alike – Ace smells cheerful, innocent and floral with a hint of depth to it, like a secret that’s never been lifted, a cry nobody ever bore witness to… Well, until you came along. You always thought the smoke was the strongest note within that concoction and not just because he ate the Flame Flame Fruit, no, because… still waters, ironically, are very deep. At first, you didn’t detect that smoky musk at all, yet once he’s let you in, the smoke overpowered the lighter, more cheerful parts. He was an enigma worth exploring, worthy of being seen and being offered a shoulder to lean on. He’d never thought that crying in your arms would appease the flames within him, but… well, he didn’t think he’d ever love someone this truthfully either.

Every spring follows a dark winter.

SHANKS

…rum, cedarwood and raspberry.

MOOD: masculine, balsamic and playful

It’s a surprisingly grounding scent. He smells like an adventure and feels very warm and approachable because of it. How funny that Shanks – Shanks! – smells approachable when he’s prone to burying his problems and keeping his heart under lock and key. He’s so… so silly, so fun, so him, but he’s also quite the introspective thinker who craves harmony and everlasting peace. Very well aware of his legacy and the laid-back nature he projects to ease other people’s worries, he tries not to think about the missing arm, the loss of strength that came with it, the phantom pain, the… problems; he tries to forget that he’s almost lost an eye, and that it all amounted to nothing. The world is still rotten, evil still runs rampant… it makes him chuckle wistfully. You’re always there to catch him when the mood turns sombre, holding him close and telling this living legend that he’s done well, that you’re proud of him and that his sacrifices changed the world.

If he’s balsam for the soul, you’re his much needed anchor.

MIHAWK

…black lily, sandalwood and wine.

MOOD: feminine, mysterious and elegant

Very much a complex, sophisticated scent. Nothing ever seems like it is on its surface level, and you have to dig deep to perceive the base note, because Mihawk doesn’t let people in on his... life most of the time. He’s fleeting and evasive, rarely ever blossoming. He keeps people at an arm’s length, deeming most people a liability, or shooing them away because they'd just annoy him… but somehow, you stuck with him.

You’ve seen the good, the bad and the ugly, but let him keep his air of secrecy, never pried once. Your own independence kept you busy. He... appreciates it. Like a good red wine, his trust needs time to age properly. Once he’s decided to keep you, though, there’s no going back. The slow burn has erupted into an open fire and his loyalty is indeed forever. He’s your sword and shield, and you are his heart.

CROCODILE

…tobacco, leather and burnt amber.

MOOD: masculine, domineering and warm

Crocodile smells like he could take over any room, that deep aroma keeps dominating the senses. The spiciness of the tobacco has permanently seeped into his luxurious clothes, and every cigar lit between his fingers just adds to the sensation. It’s a rich scent that is truly inevitable, just like he is. His frame is imposing, his intimidating appearance undeniable and yet, and yet… there’s this warmth in there, something leathery, something raw. You often interpret it as anger – anger at the world, at himself, at friends and foes alike… it’s easy to stoke the flames, but you’ve come to realise that Crocodile has never once been unreasonable in his anger.

His dismissiveness would be almost impressive if it weren’t for his other side; possessive, domineering… irrational. For a man of his calibre, he sure seems to have a problem with you trying to sever your ties to him by finding a job with a better work and life balance... He claims that he cannot find anyone who could do your job, but you knew that that’s a horrible lie.

Neither of you acknowledge what's happening out of pride.

[urinarythreatinfection]

Hair

a/n: I like writing fluff, it makes me happy.

Shanks x GN!reader. 921 words. Post-Loguetown.

“I gave the straw hat to Luffy but now my head looks a bit empty…” Shanks thinks to himself as he looks in the mirror. He tries to run his left hand through his hair, realizing once again that it’s gone. “Shit, I need to get used to this.” He doesn’t regret saving Luffy one bit, he’d sacrifice his arm again if he were to go back in time, but it is proving to be more and more troublesome missing an entire arm; especially his dominant one. “Can I even cut it now? It’ll take a while before I have the precision again to trim this.” So many new issues to deal with, and he’s had the hat for so long he looks weird and plain without it. ‘Maybe I should grow out my hair a bit, but taking care of it seems like a hassle.’ Despite all these ideas, he sighs. ‘I’ll think about it.’

_______________________

Shanks walks outside onto the deck and notices you talking with Benn, he freezes. Right, you left Loguetown with him. You said yes and joined his crew. That thought makes him giddy and he wants to talk to you but he stops when he hears the conversation.

“So, what looks do you like in a man?” Beckman’s asking your type… Well, it’s not like the deck is strictly for you two. He slowly makes his way back to where he was, slowly hiding behind one of the masts.

“Looks, hm?” You put a hand on your chin, pondering. “I’m not too strict about what I find attractive but if I had to have a preference I do like men bigger than me.” The corner of Shanks’s mouth twitches up. Not to toot his own horn but he is taller than you. However, it quickly goes down when you continue. “Something about the way they can envelop me feels warm. A nice hug, their arms around me, it just feels very safe.” Arms. Ah.

‘They didn’t mean it like that.’ The redhead tries to tell himself, but it’s not working. Another new thing he has to deal with. He lost his arm, his dominant one. He can’t keep you as safe as before, envelop you like before. His expression darkens.

“Red hair too.” He’s snapped out of his moping. “The shade matching their personality would be nice too. A deep red for a passionate person.” Shanks thinks of his hair, he’s plenty passionate, and his hair is a deep red. “Also, maybe this is a bit unpopular, but I actually prefer men with hair on the longer side.” Long!?

“Are you hitting on me?” Beckman jokes and you laugh a little. Shanks panics, he doesn’t know how he could take care of long hair with one non-dominant arm.

“You do look handsome, so maybe I am.” The length based on their personality is nice too, for you your hair length is perfect.” He can’t listen to this. “For a more elegant man, hair to the mid back is nice.” It turns out Beckman is your type. “But, for a rouge-ish man like I mentioned it definitely has to be hair a little above or to the shoulders. Just enough to put it into a little ponytail, basically. It always looks so perfect that I have to resist the urge to stare.” Your cheeks tint at the thought and Shanks’s heart starts to quicken. He could handle hair at that length, not too hard.

“Red hair and a rogue-ish appearance. Reminds me of someone. Though he’s missing the hair length.” Beckman’s eyes glance at Shanks’s hiding spot, he’s been caught! The captain flinches and makes his escape to the back deck via speed walking. While he walks a smile forms on his face. Longer hair. He can work with that.

______________________

Shanks has been growing his hair out. Well it’s not surprising considering it would be hard to trim the way he used to with one hand, but you still didn’t expect it; especially since he’s mentioned before that anything not short would be a hassle to take care of.

“(Y/n)” You sit on the grass at an island, looking up to see your captain casting a shadow over your face. “Photosynthesizing?”

“I’m shocked you know that word.” You joke and he laughs, sitting next to you.

“I’m a real scholar.” He looks into your eyes and you smile back. Maybe you’re biased but he looks better with longer hair, your eyes keep gravitating to him. “Do I have something on my face?” He teases.

“You look handsome.” You state and his eyes widen. He didn’t expect you to just say it.

“R-Really!?” He grimaces at his stutter but your smile gets wider.

“Mhm, you look better with your hair longer like this. I like it a lot.” Shanks manages to regain his composure, smirking.

‘Wow~ Don’t fall for me too quickly.” He winks and you laugh.

“I’ll try, but if you steal my heart I’ll have no choice but to take yours. It’s only fair~”

___________________

That night Shanks looks into the mirror in his room, your words repeating in his head.

“If you steal my heart I'll have no choice but to take yours.”

His cheeks flush, what a funny thing to say when you already have it. “I’m the one trying to get one back” Shanks sighs and flops onto his bed stomach first. A moment passes.

“You look handsome.”

“I like it a lot.”

"Hehehehehehe" He giggles, rolling around on his bed.

I offer you.. a small cute shanks drabble. Hope you like! The 3rd scenario with the old men and male reader will be posted tomorrow, obvi, so the people who wanted don't worry :D

[twoflowers]

Best Behavior- Sanji x Reader (Explicit)

Here's my contribution to InfixOP's One Piece x Reader fic exchange. This is for @mere-mortifer, who I hope enjoys it and forgives me for the late posting date. I don't know why or how this is so long, but I loved writing it.

Prompt: Forced proximity when sleeping due to extremely cold weather outside leads to cuddling, which leads to kissing, which leads to sex. Bonus points if Reader has to almost beg Sanji to share a sleeping bag/bed/whatever with them because Sanji doesn't want to make them uncomfortable while trying to sleep, meanwhile he's the one freezing in the open air. Even more bonus points if they have to be very careful and quiet while having sex cause someone else might hear them.

Description: Sanji has been more reserved in his affection recently. Being stranded in the cold and forced to share a sleeping bag may be just the remedy.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: sub!Sanji, virgin!Sanji, gentle femdom, first time, getting together, forced proximity, biting, (attempted) oral sex, worship, praise kink. Reader is described as a cis woman but there are no other references to her appearance.

Read on AO3.

Word Count: 9k+

Best Behavior

It takes a fifteen mile hike up a steep, cliffside trail in weather so cold your fingertips turn blue to realize that your sleeping bag and tent have been replaced with several large beef shanks.

It’s a miserable night. You’re separated from most of your crew, and all of your crewmates with a functioning sense of direction. Rain has soaked through your shoes to make your socks squelch with every step, and your coat is doing little to stave off the chill. Both of your coats, actually, because Sanji has long abandoned his suit jacket to drape it over your shoulders. You let him do it solely because he looked more miserable with it than without it; you look at him now, swearing and shivering pitifully as he attempts to start a campfire in the clearing that the four of you have decided to camp out in, and feel a pang of guilt. He looks back up at you with a smile so beatific you almost forget that you were about to commit murder. 

“Luffy,” you breathe. You keep breathing, loudly: you’ve figured out breathing exercises for just about every form of Luffy-induced rage or anxiety imaginable. “Luffy, what is this?”

Luffy is standing on the opposite side of the clearing with Zoro, who is searching for sake amidst the myriad bags he insisted on carrying up the mountain as training. Luffy leans towards you with wide-eyed curiosity, which quickly turns into wide-eyed joy as he sees your bag.

“Oh, meat! That’s where you went!” He beams, throwing an arm to hook onto a tree behind you. It twangs cartoonishly like an overstretched rubber band; Luffy hurdles towards you at top speed, whooping like a maniac - and lands directly into Sanji’s outstretched foot.

“You idiot!” Sanji scolds Luffy, now laying on the floor and nursing a large bump on his head. “How dare you take her sleeping bag? She’s freezing! Apologize!”

“Sorry…” Luffy whines petulantly, still rubbing his head. 

“Now give her yours!”

“Eh? I didn’t bring mine.”

“You didn’t-” Sanji stops, rubs his temple, and turns to you. “It’s okay, angel, I’m sure the marimo can spare his. If you can stand the body odor, that is.”

“Huh?” Zoro is in the middle of getting situated, sword carriers arranged carefully against a rock, wet haramaki loosened. “Why don’t you give her yours, shit cook?”

“I need to avoid frostbite or you’ll die within a day when Luffy cleans out the food stores.”

Zoro scoffs. “Nobody wants to touch your sleeping bag anyways. Who knows what you’ve done to the thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sanji and Zoro dissolve into a blur of motion lines. Over the kicks and grunts and shouted insults you hear the smacking of lips and look down to see Luffy eating meat out of your bag with the desperation of a starving street dog. You glare at him for good measure; he doesn’t seem to notice.

You take the opportunity to sneak to Zoro’s area to continue the search for that sake. It’s freezing and you need something to warm you, if there isn’t fire or dry clothing or a sleeping bag. The first bag you check is suspiciously heavy, and you open it to find… rocks. 

The second bag is also full of rocks, and so is the third. You take a very deep breath before stomping over to the fight to clock both Zoro and Sanji over the skull, a skill you’ve been developing for months under Nami’s careful tutelage. (It really is difficult to estimate where their heads are at any given point, but it’s really more of a gut feeling than anything.)

“Stop fighting!” You shout down at them. Sanji immediately apologizes, looking very honored to have been hit by you. You pretend that it doesn't send a shockwave of pure want through you and continue on, scowling down at Zoro.

“What the fuck did you do with the supplies?” 

“Huh?” Zoro glares up at you. “The cook brought them.”

“Mine! I brought mine!” Sanji pokes a finger right into Zoro’s forehead. “And my precious angel’s, but someone decided to replace her things with food!” 

He wheels around to Luffy, who’s shoved an entire bone into his mouth to suck on, cheeks stretched absurdly to accommodate it. Blankly, he spits out the bone, and it shoots over to hit Sanji square in the nose, and Sanj springs up to slug him again.

You love the boys, really, but moments like these are why you rely on Nami and Robin to keep you semi-sane. Every man on the crew is somehow a complete idiot, even Sanji. Woefully, this is a huge part of the appeal. He’s a complete fool and you adore him for it, drooling, nosebleeds, and all. 

The fighting winds down just as your shivering reaches an intolerable level. Your teeth are bashing against each other and nicking your lips. Distantly, you’re counting down the minutes until you inevitably get hypothermia, and the boys don’t look like they’re faring much better. Luffy sees you shivering and you watch in real-time as his neurons fire just enough for him to realize that it is, in fact, incredibly cold outside. He immediately shrieks and wraps his arms around himself like a weird, rubbery coat.

Besides the rocks and food, Sanji is the only person who managed to bring actual supplies. Between the four of you, there are two tents, one sleeping bag, and four packaged emergency blankets.

“Okay,” you huff. “Okay.” Your arm spasms with cold as you point to the tents. “How do we want to do this?”

“Of course, angel, you get the sleeping bag,” Sanji assures you, smacking Luffy as he tries to protest. 

“Men to one tent, woman to the other?” You suggest, knowing that Sanji will take issue with it.

“But angel, there could be wolves!” Sanji looks profoundly worried. His bangs are windswept back, and you get the full effect of his pout with both eyes visible. “You need someone to stand guard. I can-”

“Sanji, it’s practically sub-zero. You need to be inside a tent, and all of us need to get our clothes off as soon as possible.”

Sanji gulps, wind-chapped cheeks somehow flushing even redder. His gaze traces down your body and turns dazed: you aren’t sure how, given that you’re drenched and wearing a shapeless jacket. Ugh, what a sweetheart. The abstract concept of you taking your clothes off in a separate tent is getting him all hot and bothered.

It’s a relief. 

Recently, Sanji has been downright distant, by his standards. Still doting, of course; still appearing every few hours with a special drink and snack for you. Still overusing pet names and offering to be your knight and making sure you and the other women get the best of the best of everything.

But the opportunistic touches to the lower back have vanished. His eyes barely linger when you wear a low-cut shirt. You haven’t even seen him have a nosebleed in a while. 

You wonder idly how your love-life got to the point of you eagerly awaiting being perved on, but one glance at Sanji vanishes those thoughts. You know exactly how you got here: you thrilled at meeting this tall man with his lovely long legs and thin waist and broad shoulders, his large, careful hands, tapered chin and well-kempt facial hair and slight youthful roundness clinging stubbornly to his cheeks despite his manly man act. You were completely gone after learning that he essentially devoted his life to the pleasure of women, called you miss and blushed when pushed around and followed pretty girls blindly like a lost puppy, and all without an ounce of irony or malicious intent. The Straw Hats- all of them- are so sincere that it still blindsides you sometimes.

And after two years apart, seeing him mature… Muscles and jawline more defined, a bit more hardened, a bit more world-weary but still as kind and giving and genuine and lovely as ever… His reaction to seeing you essentially topless after that time apart was very charmingly him, even if it snowballed into recurrent bleeding episodes necessitating a well-stocked blood bank aboard the ship. 

As bad as it sounds, you miss the attention. You like encouraging that side of Sanji.

You look around you at the pathetic campsite and measly supplies and think that maybe fate has blessed you with a good hand indeed.

“Luffy and I could share a tent, but then you and Zoro would be together…” You say it like you haven’t already done the mental math and gotten the exact result you want, like you aren’t already internally whooping in victory. “I don’t want to break up any more fights.”

Sanji glances rapidly between you and the other men.

“And now that you mention it, I’m not sure if anybody should be left alone tonight. We should pair off for safety. Like you said, there might be wolves.” You look up, pursing your lips in thought. “Zoro and I could share.”

Sanji sputters immediately, stepping forward to cast a protective arm between you and Zoro. “No! No way! There’s no telling what that animal might try! My angel, n-n- undressed in front of that brute-!”

The two men are forehead to forehead at this point, and you quickly grab Sanji by the collar of his rain-soaked shirt and haul him backwards. He goes willingly, but his glare remains fixed on Zoro… until you stroke the back of his neck with your thumb and he flushes and slumps towards you, deactivated.

“Or you and I could share, Sanji.” 

He looks at you like you’ve just said something incomprehensible. His eyes slowly drift to your neck, then snap quickly back up. You flutter your lashes and Sanji goes scarlet. 

“Would that work? I’ll just get changed in the sleeping bag.”

“Abababa-” Sanji babbles. 

“And you can protect me?”

“Hahh-” Sanji makes a punched out sound and looks upwards as if imploring some deity for help. He clears his throat and pushes his bangs back. When he looks back at you the flush comes back full-force, and he has to look to the ground before he nods, twice.

“Perfect.” You clap your hands together. “Please tell me one of you knows how to set up a tent. Not Luffy.” 

Despite the biting cold, despite the numb fingers that can barely function to hold the pegs that secure the tents to the ground, you are a very happy camper. Sanji is moving with a manic efficiency that you hope is a good sign. He alternates between staring at you unblinkingly and pretending not to look at you while shooting desperate, furtive glances. This is your favorite Sanji, the one who’s wrecked by the mere idea of a woman being anything resembling familiar with him. Roping him into close quarters may be the perfect solution to the recent distance.

Or, you think with a frown, he might be put off by the whole situation. If asked two years ago you would have declared Sanji incredibly easy to read; recently, you’re not so sure what he’s thinking.

Still, your mind is flooded with all sorts of delicious images: Sanji furtively touching himself in the tent next to you, blanket stuffed into his mouth to stifle his whines, or Sanji accidentally finding a pair of your used underwear in his sleeping area and being unable to resist temptation. There’s an idea you go back to again and again, inspired by one time months ago that Sanji visibly licked his lips when you mentioned needing to wash your intimates.

The rain slows just as the tents are set up. Sanji finally manages to start a small fire in the clearing, and everyone strips their top layers to dry on logs overnight. You distribute the emergency blankets and watch Luffy’s eyes dazzle in wonder at their metallic sheen. You can’t help but smile softly at him: of course near death by hypothermia is just another big adventure to him.

You warm up to the best of your ability by the fire before taking Sanji’s sleeping bag and scrambling into the tent before the cold catches you. Your shorts, underwear, and tank top are soaked completely through and you’re so cold and exhausted that you don’t have an hour to spare to get dry by the measly fire. 

You can’t help but think about Zoro’s earlier words as you unzip the sleeping bag and line it with a blanket. Who knows what he’s done to the thing… Your shivering reaches new heights and you quickly strip to your underwear, crawl into the bag, and zip it up, wiggling to get comfortable and listening to the blanket make awkward crinkling noises around you.

You lie in the dark waiting for Sanji, listening to Luffy loudly get ready for bedtime and recount the story of today to Zoro, who grunts in return. They’re on the opposite side of the fire from your tent, but Luffy’s laughter rings throughout the clearing. If there are wolves, you think, they’ll probably be scared away.

You sit up after about fifteen minutes. You can see Sanji’s shadow through the tent, sitting in front of the fire with his knees drawn to his chest. You wriggle to the entrance and unzip it slightly, peeking out at Sanji as he huddles miserably in his wet undershirt and boxers. 

“Sanji, come here. You need to get out of those clothes and into a blanket.”

Sanji turns to you, nodding absently. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He turns back to the fire and takes a few deep, steady breaths, as though preparing himself. Paired with the sparks flying up into the clear, starry night he almost looks like he’s performing some kind of spell. His hands clench into fists and unclench, and then he stands up to enter the tent. 

You scoot backwards to give him room, but the action inadvertently makes the sleeping bag slip down. Sanji lets out an eep and covers his eyes with a hand, the other thrown out in front of him like a shield.

“Angel, your modesty!” He squeaks, waving his hand around helplessly. “I’m sorry!”

Is Sanji passing up an opportunity to swoon over a naked woman? 

“Sanji, it’s no big deal. It was an accident.” You get back into a lying position while Sanji stutters and tries to find his blanket with a hand shielding his eyes. “Modesty doesn’t count for much when the alternative is hypothermia.” 

“Ah- but, but-” He trips over your pile of clothes and peeks between his fingers to see your bra dangling from his foot, then squeaks and shakes it free. “But it’s-” He looks up and sees that you’re fully covered, and takes his hand from his face. 

“But it’s improper.” 

His lip is quivering in misery. His wet hair seems to sag even further down his forehead. You notice that at some point he’s put an unlit cigarette between his teeth, and he gnaws at it viciously as his eyes nearly well with tears.

You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry along with him. “Sanji, you’ve seen me naked before. In the shower? When the lock broke? Remember?”

He nods, the spitting image of a puppy watching his bag of treats sink to the bottom of the ocean.

“And you got a nosebleed and told me I had the most beautiful body in the world? Ringing any bells?”

Sanji’s lip quivers harder, and he shakes his head, then nods. “But I-” 

“So what’s with the sudden change of heart, huh?” Your eyes soften as you look at Sanji… Soggy, pitiful, desperate Sanji. “You’re shaking. Get your shirt off.” 

Sanji gulps. You admire his Adam’s apple and his sculpted neck. How is it fair that a man this beautiful is also the sweetest man in the world?

You roll over to give Sanji some privacy, and hear him peeling his wet shirt from his body. You let yourself lick your lips because you’re feeling quite self-indulgent now that you’re out of the freezing cold and marginally warmed by the fire, blanket, and sleeping bag. When you hear Sanji unfolding his blanket, you clear your throat.

“Can I turn back over?”

“Ah. Yes. You’re okay now, angel.” 

You roll back over and grin at the sight of Sanji’s head peeking out from above his foil blanket. His shirt is folded and placed at a respectful distance from your things; presumably, he’s still wearing wet boxers. 

“Warm?”

“Warmer,” he smiles, and leans towards you to appraise your sleeping situation. “And you? Are you warm enough? If not, I can give you my blanket and sit back by the fire.” 

“I’ve already taken your sleeping bag, Sanji. I don’t want you to actually die here.”

Sanji’s smile melts across his face, soft and sweet and wobbly. “Ah, my angel cares about me!” 

“Of course I do.” You smile up at him from your bundle, and he tucks a hand under his chin to better gaze at you adoringly.

“You look so snug, all tucked in…” 

For some reason, this makes you shiver with desire. You’ll never get enough of being fussed over and cooed at like a baby duckling. Sanji has seen you stumble into the kitchen, hungover and in last night’s makeup and has reacted by pressing a hand over his heart like he was ready to melt through the floor. He makes you feel unconditionally adored; more than that, he seems to adore you even more under what you think are the worst possible conditions.

A companionable silence ensues. You can hear the sporadic popping of the fire outside and the whistling of Luffy snoring. You drift off a bit; Sanji puts up a valiant fight, but when you wake up to hear the rain starting up again, he’s asleep. 

You see the fire die out and huddle your blanket closer to you. Sanji shivers. 

“Sanji?” 

His blanket crumples as he stirs. “Hm?” 

“You’re cold, huh?”

You can faintly see him shake his head. “No, angel. Don’t worry about me.” 

“I do worry about you. I worry about you a lot.”

There’s a beat. “...Thank you. I’m honored.”

You glance over and blink a few times, eyes adjusting to the darkness and allowing you to make out Sanji’s trembling outline.

“Sanji, come over here.”

He audibly swallows, but obeys, scooting close and leaning down enough that the fog of his breath is visible. 

“Come in here with me.”

His breath disappears for a few long seconds. You can see enough of his face to get the impression that his eyes are darting rapidly from you to the sleeping bag and back again, and you reach your hand out into the night air and slip it under his jaw. He makes a sound like a deflating tire.

“I- you mean-” He reflexively reaches up to his lips; not finding a cigarette, he places his hand briefly over yours and then flinches away like it burns. “Come in where?” 

“Sanji, you’re cold. There’s space, really.” You scoot backwards to demonstrate, grabbing his hand and slipping it into the sleeping bag. “See?” 

“But the-th-” he chokes, feeling around in the empty space beside you. “Not much space, there’s- really, there’s hardly any space, and-” He shivers, head to toe.

“Please,” you whisper. “I’m cold, too… Really cold, and I need you to help.”

Sanji gasps, hand reaching out past the empty space to connect with your shoulder. “Is that true, angel? Is that true? You need me?” 

“Yes, I really do. Could you-?” You reach out to gently tug his arm. He doesn’t resist at all- you don’t think Sanji could ever resist being manhandled by a woman- but he’s stiff and emanates hesitance as he’s pulled towards you.

“Angel, I’m not decent.” 

For a moment you think he’s being self-deprecating, but you quickly remember that neither of you are wearing anything but underwear. The thought makes your stomach clench. All that skin against skin, the possibility of feeling the warmth of Sanji’s body tucked right against yours... 

“Neither am I.”

Sanji draws in a harsh breath. He brings a hand to his nose to check for blood. It comes back clear, and he exhales shakily and gently places his hand on your head. His fingers twitch as they settle into your hair.

“And I’m so happy that you trust me enough to allow me near you when you’re vulnerable,” he says with great effort. “But I don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable. I don’t want to… react in a way that makes you uncomfortable.”

Heat blossoms between your legs, radiates to your belly and chest until you’re almost dizzy with it. But once the initial burn subsides, his comment gives you pause.

It’s not that Sanji hasn’t cared about your comfort in the past: of course he has. He cares very much about you being well-fed and relaxed. He’s offered to clean your room, do all of your laundry, carry you any time you seem even slightly tired. But he’s also, on multiple occasions, coyly lifted his blanket to invite you to snuggle on the couch, eyelashes fluttering. He’s assured you his bunk is always available to share after you have a night of poor sleep. He’s offered massages and manicures and haircuts and baths together, always with earnest eagerness to please and enough puppy dog desperation to make it toothless. 

It does sting a bit that he isn’t immediately jumping into bed with you.

Sanji’s hand is still in your hair and you can feel that it is shaking from a combination of cold and nerves. You wish you could see his face. You’re sure whatever expression of profound shame he’s making is very charming. 

You decide you need to do something. If Sanji is going to dial down his advances, you need to dial yours up until you reach equilibrium. 

“You mean you think you’ll get aroused?” 

His hand jerks away from your head; he jolts back with a squeak. “Angel-! That’s- That’s such a crude word-!”

“But it’s true, isn’t it? You’re worried about how you’ll react if we sleep together?”

Sanji is breathing like he’s overheating. He nods shamefully. “I’m sorry! I know it’s wrong of me. I just… I can’t control it sometimes. Especially around beautiful ladies. And you’re not…” He gulps. “You’re not wearing anything right now, and… We would be touching.”

“We would be,” you agree. “But skin-to-skin contact is very effective for warming up. Sanji, if you’d rather I send you to cuddle with Zoro, I will. I want you to warm up. Just because you could spend the night shivering in a blanket in only wet underwear doesn’t mean you should have to. We’re nakama. I want you to be cozy. With me.” 

“Cozy…?” He repeats vaguely. He shifts closer, close enough that his knee knocks into yours. “With you?”

“With me.” 

You sit up, making sure to pull the sleeping bag with you so your breasts are covered, and unzip the side. ��Now get in here. I’m freezing my ass off and I know you are, too. We can lay back to back or something.”

“Princess…” He says helplessly, but his legs are already slipping into the sleeping bag. 

You make room for him. He keeps the blanket wrapped around him and you’re feeling frustrated, sexually and emotionally; you’re cold and nervous and desperate for reassurance that he also wants to touch you. 

“Can you put the blanket on top of me, too?” You reach out to Sanji, who’s halfway into the sleeping back, and tug lightly on the little cocoon he’s made around himself. “That way we can both have two blankets and be skin-to-skin. For minimal heat loss.”

You smile when Sanji practically rips the blanket off of himself and tuck it over you, then slips quickly next to you to get out of the cold. 

You’re side to side now. Sanji’s entire bare arm is against your bare arm. You hope you aren’t breathing too loudly, but even if you are, Sanji is surely drowning you out: he’s practically huffing. 

“Can you zip us up?” You turn your back to Sanji. He seems to be having a hard enough time already, and jumping straight into cuddling while practically naked might spook him.

“Yeah… yeah.” He turns so that he’s on his side, a slight gap between your backs, and zips up the sleeping bag. 

It feels so final, like he’s closing the boundary between the outside world and the place where the two of you are lying, and you can feel the heat between your legs ramping up in intensity. The space between your back and his feels charged with potential. 

You lie in silence for a few moments. Sanji asks if you’re comfortable and you tell him that you are. A few times you attempt to subtly press your back into Sanji’s, but he’s apparently migrated as far to the other side of the sleeping bag as possible. 

“Sanji?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course,” he says, but sounds unsure. You worry your thumb over your lips.

“You’ve been distant lately. Touching me less, being less… Well, eager, I guess. Normally, I would have expected you to be very excited about a girl inviting you to share a sleeping bag. Is everything okay between us?”

“Yes! Yes, of course everything’s okay! I promise, if there was any problem, I’d fix it right away!” Sanji shifts to the best of his ability so he’s lying on his back, speaking right into your ear. “I’m trying to be better…”

“Better?”

“I know I can be a bit much. Sometimes I get so excited about being around you ladies that I can forget my manners, and it’s… Unbecoming of a gentleman. And you deserve a gentleman. You deserve nothing less than the best.”

You can’t help but laugh. You’d been so worried that Sanji was pulling away, or that his recent behavior was how Sanji acted around a girl he wasn’t romantically interested in. You realize that you’re so used to Sanji’s love sonnets and borderline ogling and gentle touches to the small of your back that normal behavior, or anything closer to normal behavior from him, puts you on high alert. Anything less than over the top feels like a rejection.

“Sanji, that’s it? Really? You’re not-” You turn so that you’re on your side, hands crossed over your breasts to avoid getting too close too fast. “You’re not… I don’t know, disinterested?”

“Disinterested?” Sanji sounds horrified. “My princess, I could never be! Have I been making you feel neglected? Please tell me I haven’t!”

“I mean, a little bit? I know you’ve probably gotten negative feedback, but with me… I like it when you’re yourself. You don’t need to tone it down.”

Sanji seems to realize that the front of your body is pressed flush against his side. He gasps an exhale but doesn’t pull away, and you let yourself even closer, gently hooking a foot between his legs. 

“You can’t mean that,” Sanji mutters. “Can you?”

“You’re not too much for me,” you say, and it’s such an understatement. You adore Sanji, completely, but aren’t sure how to verbalize it (I love you, I want to keep you, I need to hold your hand constantly and play with your hair, I want you to beg for a taste of me and then slobber all over my pussy-?). “I like the attention.”

“You really do?” He leans closer. You can feel his breath on your lips. “I can give you more attention. So much more, if you’ll let me. Please. I want to make you happy.” 

“You do make me happy. But right now, what would make me even happier is if you let me cuddle you.” 

“Hah- are you-? Cuddle? As in-?”

“I want you to be warm.”

“Angel, I’m very warm right now. That’s the problem.” 

And you can’t control yourself, because really, the way he sounds tortured is so delicious, and his breath is so hot and he smells like cigarettes and rain and his arm is pressing right against you, elbow to your ribs. You lean forward and kiss him.

Sanji is stock-still. You don’t relent. You slip a hand up to cup his jaw, move your lips against his: they’re so soft you can’t help but lick at them, and Sanji lets out a noise halfway between a moan and a cry of distress. 

You pull away and feel Sanji’s breathing start up again after a few seconds.

“Am I dreaming?” He mutters. “Do I have hypothermia? The cold is getting to me and I’m dreaming, right?” 

His hand cups your shoulder like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re solid, actually there. His fingers move to stroke wondrously down your arm. Those big, careful hands that you’ve admired for years are every bit as gentle as you’ve always imagined.

“Do you dream about me often?” You aim for teasing but end up choking the words out, because his hand is getting dangerously low.

“Yes. God, yes…” Sanji rolls to face you, and your chest presses right against his, and you feel him jolt like he was electrocuted. “God, oh my god, angel, is this okay? Is this-” He cups your cheek and strokes your face from eyebrow to chin and leans forward so he’s breathing right into your mouth. 

“It’s okay.” You lean into his touch to encourage him. 

“It’s okay,” he repeats, sounding awed. “Can I-? May I-?” 

He leans forward and tentatively brushes his lips against yours. He gasps into your lips, pulling slightly away before placing a series of small smooches around your mouth. It’s so achingly sweet and shy and lovely and you respond by stroking your foot up his calf. You can feel his leg hair and are so inexplicably endeared by him that you chase down his lips again and kiss him long and slow. 

Sanji seems inexperienced but is a quick study: he lets you lead. Your hand settles comfortably on his face and you take the opportunity to stroke his goatee. You refuse to squander this opportunity to explore by touch as much of him as possible. He makes a pleased little humming sound and it makes your heart jump in your chest. You need to get more noises out of him, need him falling apart in your arms in this sleeping bag on this mountain right now.

You lick at the seam of his lips and he opens his mouth immediately, a bit too widely. You’re dizzy with affection and then with pure lust as he presses his tongue against yours. It’s wet and messy and he groans into your mouth and you love it. 

You’re struck with the need to find out how Sanji will behave if given free rein. You bury your hand into his hair and allow your lips to go pliable against his. He licks into your mouth exploratorily, humming in pure pleasure at every new angle he tries kissing you from. You scratch his scalp and he redoubles his efforts, rolling over to slot a knee between your legs so he’s hovering slightly above you. His hard cock presses against your hip and you nearly black out. 

You pull away to catch your breath, and Sanji collapses to bury his face into your neck. 

“Was that good? Is this okay? I want to- I’ve been trying to- to be good for you.” He huffs the words into your neck, his warm breath on your skin. His facial hair is scratching you and you adore it, need so much more of it, are secretly hoping it leaves marks.

“It’s good. Sanji, it’s so good, you’re being so good for me.” You stroke his hair and he responds with a bitten off moan and a kiss to the crook of your neck. “Such a good boy for me.” 

Sanji’s hips jerk unbidden, and he lets out a small, embarrassed whimper as his cock grinds into you. Before you can praise that noise and try to get more out of him, he pushes himself up and away from you, supporting himself on shaking arms. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He mutters. His voice is trembling; he sounds completely destroyed. “Inappropriate of me, I… I should’ve controlled myself…” 

“Sanji!” You’re incredulous. “You’re apologizing for being turned on?”

“I don’t want to take advantage-”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t get a boner from making out with me!” You reach up and put your hands on his sides and yes, yes, he feels just as incredible as you’ve always dreamed. Soft skin, hardened planes of muscle, a dappling of goosebumps that spread as you run your hands up to his chest and stroke from his breastbone across his pecs. “Your nipples are hard, too…”

“Angel, please–!”

You run a thumb around his left nipple and he trembles like his arms are about to give out. 

“You don’t like when I tease you?” You coo. Since when do you coo? That’s a special tone, one reserved for fantasies of how exactly you’d treat Sanji. 

Your heart slams in your chest as the totality of this moment settles in. This is like one of your fantasies, exactly like one of your fantasies, and you intend to live it out to its fullest.

“I like it-!” His hips buck, erection grazing your stomach. “I really like it, please– Please, I can’t– I’m trying to be good! I haven’t even–” A delicious whimper. “-Even taken you on a date yet, and I wanted to–”

Your hand stills. Sanji sighs in relief, or disappointment, or both. 

“Do you not want to do this right now?” You ask. “You can say no and I won’t be mad at all, Sanji. I don’t want to pressure you.” 

“Pressure me?” He repeats in a sort of hysterical whisper. “I’m worried about pressuring you! You were so cold earlier, and scared, and I’m supposed to be protecting you! Not–” He swallows. 

“Not having sex with me?”

“Having–?” He gasps, and apparently gives up on supporting himself entirely, sinking down so his elbows meet the floor. It inadvertently presses his hard cock snug against you, but you decide to politely wait for him to process this turn of events before doing something stupid like grabbing his ass and dragging his hips against yours. You knew that if you ever did propose sex to Sanji it would at the very most kill him and at the very least render him inoperable for a while.

“I–I– my beloved, my goddess, please forgive me,” he breathes into your neck. “I must have misheard you.”

“I said ‘having sex with me,’” you repeat, gently patting his back to help him through this trying time. “That’s not what you expected tonight, huh?”

“No!” He shakes his head vigorously. “No! Having– making love to you would be the greatest honor, my angel! But I don’t have ulterior motives, I promise!” 

You don’t mention that he’s laying flush against you with his boner pressing inches from your soaking wet pussy. 

“Tell me to leave and I will!” He sobs. “I can go back outside and guard your tent from there. If the wolves come, they can take me! They don’t deserve meat as pure as yours…” 

“Sanji!” You can’t keep the smile out of your voice. “Sanji, what the hell? What’s wrong with you? Nobody’s asking you to be self-sacrificial! We’re literally just camping.”

He peeks up at you, and you can feel his pout spiritually despite the darkness.

“Should I ignore that you just compared me to meat?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–!”

“And you’re not the only one capable of having ulterior motives.” 

“...Huh?”

“Sanji, I wasn’t scared of the wolves. And I don’t actually need you protecting me. I wouldn’t be on the crew if I couldn’t fend for myself- uh,uh-!” You reach up and put a hand over his mouth as he starts to protest.  “I know you don’t want me to have to. I know that, Sanji! But I wouldn’t die if I slept in a tent ten feet away from yours. I said those things because I wanted to share a tent with you. I wanted to be intimate with you. I’ve wanted it for a really long time.”

Hand still clamped over Sanji’s mouth, you can feel his breath stop. If he was still when you kissed him, he’s a statue now, hovering motionless above you. You take your hand away in case you’re suffocating him, and it works: he starts panting like he’s letting off heat. 

“Darling, you mean that? You mean it?” 

“Yes, of course I mean it. Sanji, you’re the sweetest person I know, and I really care about you. And you drive me completely insane, I mean…” You stroke his cheek with your thumb, up and down. “The pet names and the declarations of devotion and all that. It’s not every day an incredibly attractive man treats me like a queen.” 

Sanji gasps and turns his face to kiss the palm of your hand again and again. “You deserve nothing less. You deserve the world– A-Attractive–? You really think so?”

“Very attractive. Such a cute boy…”

Sanji’s head falls down to your shoulder, and he kisses at your neck with a desperation that surprises you, sweet, chaste pecks quickly turning into long, wet drags of his lips. “Thank you,” he gasps. “You’re so beautiful, you’re so good to me–” 

“Oh, Sanji…” You moan, and Sanji moans with you, right into your neck. His hot breath against your neck makes your pussy throb; your thighs clench involuntarily and you know that Sanji feels it, because he stills for a moment before wetly kissing your collarbone.

“Did that feel good? I’m making you feel good?” 

“Sanji, you’re incredible, you’re doing perfectly–” You bury your hand in his hair and pull his head insistently to your jaw, and he yields immediately, allowing himself to be manhandled with a small, happy whine.

“My princess, my love, let me worship you…” He kisses a line under your jaw, then moves down the column of your neck. The damp patches he leaves cool almost immediately, and the chill makes you want more of his warm, bare body against you. You loop your hands around his back and tug him into you, chest to chest.

“Keep me warm,” you murmur. “Need to feel your skin against mine.” 

“Oh…” He sounds reverent. “I’ll keep you warm. I’ll take care of you. What do you need? Please tell me. You can order me around or– or pull me like you did. I want you to take what you need from me.”

“God, Sanji, you’re incredible… Can you bite my neck?”

“Bite you?” His hands settle uncertainly on your shoulders. “Angel, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No, no, it’s not about hurting. It feels good for me. Just light bites, Sanji. You won’t hurt me, I promise.”

“Gentle? I can be gentle?”

“Yes, yes, that’s a good start– oh–” You’re cut off by the first exploratory nibble to the base of your neck. You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging, and he hums and bites again, slightly harder.

“Oh, god–” You gasp, abandoning any effort at holding back. Sanji responds like a man starved at any reaction he can get out of you, lavishing your neck in attention and readjusting to target sensitive areas. 

“I’m not hurting you?” He barely manages to ask it, he’s so breathless.

“No, no, keep going– You can touch me.” You grab his hands and guide them away from your shoulders.

“God– please, please–” He palms your sides, just below your breasts, and you can feel that his hands are sweaty, shaking. “I want to be good. Can I touch you here? Please? I need to be a good boy for you.” 

“You can touch me anywhere, please…” You nearly forget to breathe as his hands skate up to settle under your breasts. The way he’s panting, begging, makes you feel so hot and feral, and you reach down to find the waistband of his boxers.

His hips snap forward and he lets out a trembling moan. 

“So sensitive for me…” You mutter, slipping your hand down to cup him through his boxers.

“Angel, my angel–” He nearly collapses, his kisses devolving into needy licks at your neck, living up to the image of the desperate puppy you’ve always known him to be. “Please, please, let me pleasure you first. I’m not going to last if you keep touching me–!”

He whines as you move your other hand to squeeze his ass. 

“I’m barely touching you. So desperate for me…”

“Yes, yes! I’m desperate, I’ll do anything. Please, please let me take care of you.” 

“Already begging and I didn’t even ask…” 

“Oh, god! You’re perfect, you’re truly an angel– no, a goddess–” He grinds into your hand and licks down your chest until he finds a nipple to lap at greedily. 

“Fuck!” You squeeze his cock through his boxers and he noses between your tits, pressing wet kisses to your sternum. You can hear him sniffing you, feel him tilting his head back and forth, and you laugh in affection and disbelief as you realize this is probably Sanji’s heaven: his face in a woman’s tits as she palms his erection. 

“You’re so hard for me…” You trace his erection and swipe a thumb over where the head must be. He whines into your tits. 

“You did this to me…” His voice is muffled. “Please, please, I’m about to cum. Let me take care of you first! I’m here to serve you, just call me your dog…” 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m going to go insane if you don’t touch my pussy right now–” 

Sanji whines, lifting his head up to look into your eyes. His hands scramble downwards, squeezing your tits once as if to say goodbye and then pushing desperately at your hips. You take your hands off of him and push your panties down. 

“Feel how wet I am, all for you…” 

“For me?” He huffs. “You really are? You’re wet, just for me?” 

You guide his hand between your legs and he trembles, shaking fingers brushing your folds. He carefully strokes down and gasps, gathering slick on his fingers and drawing them in a circle around your entrance. 

“You’re so warm… God, you’re so wet and hot here. Is this really for me?”

“I’m wet because of you, Sanji. You make me so wet.” You guide his fingers upwards and groan as his middle finger brushes your clit. “Right there, that’s the spot–”

“Oh…” He gasps in pure wonder, gently swirling his fingers around it. “Oh, that’s it… Is this good for you? Please, I’ve never– Never touched anyone here before…” 

You nearly come just hearing that you’re his first. He’s so excited, so nervous and eager to please, so careful in his exploration of your body, and you can’t resist pulling him down to kiss him, open-mouthed and hungry.

You break away and kiss the corner of his mouth, feeling his fingers slide wetly against you. 

“I’ll show you,” you mutter against his lips. “I can teach you.” 

You guide his fingers gently over your clit, showing him how to circle it, the right amount of pressure, the right tempo. He nods his head at each new scrap of feedback, immediately adopting your preferred method.

“You have– mm– you're very talented with your hands.”

He sighs in pure bliss, sounding every bit like he's just stretched out in a lawn chair in the sun. “It comes with the job. All this time, I thought I was training to improve my culinary skills… I know now it was all for you, to help you feel good.”

You laugh at his dramatics, then melt into a deep exhale as he strokes you just right. He picks up on the cue effortlessly, and keeps doing exactly what you like, fingers at just the right angle and pressure to draw more noises out of you. His fingers briefly dip down to gather more slick and your entire body tenses, toes curling at his fingers teasing your entrance.

“Beautiful, beautiful,” he chants. “You're so warm. Can I put my fingers inside of you? Please?”

“Yesss–” you hiss, hips rolling up into his waiting hand. “God, yes, please-”

He very gently inserts the tip of his middle finger, checking that you're okay. Frustrated, you buck forward so that his finger slips all the way in, and Sanji lets out a noise so awed you'd think he just found the All Blue.

“You're even hotter in here, and wetter–” He shivers as you clench around his finger. It's equal parts endearing and torturous when he begins thrusting his finger into and back out of you; you still his hand by taking his wrist.

“Am I doing it wrong?” He murmurs. You stroke the tender skin of his lower arm and he gasps out a delirious little laugh, like he can't believe his luck. “Please, mellorine, show me…”

“Hook your finger towards yourself, like–” you let out a squeak- “Like that–! Fuck, Sanji, right there- right there, right there, good boy–”

“F-faster? Or is this good?”

“Give me another, I'm ready– Please, I'm so wet for you I'm dripping–”

Sanji whines and quickly fumbles to add another finger, which sinks into you with a squelch that makes your jaw clench in pleasure. 

“You're so perfect,” Sanji babbles. “I can't believe this is happening, You're so beautiful, such a beautiful angel. Thank you for letting me touch you. Thank you, thank you!”

“Harder, harder, right there!”

Sanji hesitates for only a moment before giving into your demands and thrusting against your inner wall until you're near sobbing. He lets out noises of awe and words of praise at every clench around his fingers.

“Sanji, Sanji—” You keen as he finds the perfect tempo, back arching off the sleeping bag. “My clit, too – use your thumb!”

Sanji finds your clit after a moment of effort and rubs it in time to the thrusts of his fingers, remembering the amount of pressure you need, changing speeds until your breath is hitching and your hands are clamped to his shoulders. 

“Is this good for you? Are you close?” Sanji moves to kiss your ear, your throat, your chest.

“Yes, yes, it’s good– you’re such a sweet boy for me–” 

Sanji finds a nipple and begins sucking on it in earnest, face pressed insistently into your breast. His fingers curl into you again and again, his tongue swirls your nipple before he gently nibbles it, and that’s all you can take– you come with a stifled yell and shaking legs.

“Oh angel…” Sanji’s hand stills. “You just had an orgasm, didn’t you? I made you feel that good?” His voice is distant, awed, and he moves to kiss your lips as if in a daze. His mouth is wet and so is his chin, and as you come down from your high you realize your tits are soaked: he was drooling all over you. 

You cup his cheeks and pull his mouth into yours, possessed by some strange urge to lick the saliva off of him, and are met with the taste of iron. You pull away with an amused huff.

“You’re bleeding.” 

“Ah-” One hand shoots up to his nose, and he reaches out of the sleeping bag and into the cold night air to grab his shirt and wipe his face off with it. The action makes his cock graze you and you feel heat ripple through your belly, searing even hotter than before. 

“Get back in here.” You tug Sanji back to you by his shoulders and he happily complies. “Obedient boy. You’re like a little puppy dog, huh?” 

Sanji makes the happiest sound you’ve ever heard as he slumps back down into you, apparently on a new plane of bliss after successfully making you come. He scoops an arm under you and pulls you to his side, slotting a thigh between your legs and threading a hand into your hair. 

“I was good for you, wasn’t I?”

“You were excellent. And such a fast study.” You ruffle his hair and your cunt clenches as he gives a happy little moan in response. “Are you up for round two? I still have another one in me. Or more.”

“Really?” He perks up immediately: it’s action time. “Oh, mellorine, you need me again? Can I taste you?” 

“Holy fucking shit,” you gasp, closing your eyes as you feel an intense wave of pleasure crash over you. You pull his thigh closer to your core and barely resist humping him shamelessly until you’re coming all over his bare skin. “Yes, yes-”

Sanji scrambles into the sleeping bag with such urgency that it’s pulled down with him, exposing you to the biting chill of the air. 

“Sanji, Sanji–!” You grab him by the shoulders. “This isn’t working. I’m going to freeze to death!”

Sanji quickly comes back up and fusses like the sweet mother hen that he is, tucking you both back into the blankets and holding you to him. He smooths his hands up and down your arms to warm you back up.

“Is this better, sweet princess? I can’t have my beloved turning into an icicle.” 

God, he’s so sickeningly sweet it makes you need to see him made a mess of. You ponder the logistics of fucking in the sleeping bag, but decide it’s both implausible and also probably not the romantic and atmospheric way that Sanji would want to lose his virginity to you. He seems like more of a rose petals and candles type of man, and you’re happy to play along. 

“Give me your thigh.”

He presses his leg back to your core and you hiss in delight as his firm muscle puts delicious pressure on your clit and entrance. 

“Angel, you’re so wet! Please, please, can I–?” His fingers slip greedily down, and he strokes an affectionate circle over your vulva, waiting for permission.

Thinking he’s going to touch your clit again, you nod rapidly, but instead he dips his fingers into your pussy to gather slick and bring it to his mouth. He moans loudly, shivering in ecstasy as he gets a taste of you.

“You’re perfect, you’re perfect–!” He gasps into your ear, pressing his thigh upwards to give you more pressure. “You taste perfect! I always knew you were an angel. Thank you, thank you–” 

He licks every last drop from his fingers, slurping loudly and unabashedly and humming in contentment, and it drives you so insane that you thrust yourself into his thigh until you’re coming again. 

You feel your slick wetting his leg, dampening his hair (now there’s a thought that makes your already spent pussy throb, the idea that it’ll be dried by tomorrow); you waste no time in reaching down to grip him through his boxers.

“Angel– My goddess–!” He moves his hips immediately, chasing the friction you’re giving him. “You don’t have to–!” He protests, but makes no move to pull away.

“Fuck, Sanji, you’re incredible. My good boy, all for me. I want you on your knees as soon as you get back to the Sunny. Will you do that?”

“Yes! Yes, please, yes!” He sobs.

“Everyone’s going to hear how loud you’re being,” you tut, beginning to jerk him off. “They’ll know how desperate you are.”

Sanji whimpers pitifully, lips bitten to prevent the noise from carrying. Realistically, you know that if Zoro and Luffy were going to hear it, they’ve probably already heard about twenty minutes of noises they’ll want to forget by morning. 

“You’re all wet already for me, huh?” You tease, and slip your hand into his boxers to test your theory. You were absolutely right: he’s soaked in precum and achingly hard. “Did you like touching me? Did you like tasting your goddess?”

Sanji buries his face into your shoulder to stifle a shout, and comes hotly against your hand. His cum spills onto your wrist and drips down your hand, and you love it, love the physical reminder of how insane you managed to drive him: just a few strokes and he became a trembling mess.

Sanji recovers slowly, breathing hot and slow on your neck and trailing lazy kisses over your collarbone. You gently clean him and yourself with his boxers and he mumbles a thank you, kicking them off and to the bottom of the sleeping bag once you’re done. 

And then he just… gathers you in his arms and holds you. He cradles you to him like you’re the most precious thing in the world, squeezing you to his chest and threading your legs together. He presses kisses to your hairline and you let yourself melt into his chest, sticky and warm and sated.

“Did you really mean it?” He mutters into your hair.

“Mm?”

“When you said you don’t want me to tone it down. Did you mean it?”

“Of course I meant it. You know, I’m hesitant to say something in case it eggs you on too much, but I like how insane you are about women. Especially when it’s about me. You know, I might leave the bathroom door unlocked next time I bathe.”

“You– angel, you wouldn’t–!”

“I would. And you’d have to get there first before one of the other men did… I have my purity to protect, right? You wouldn’t want Zoro seeing me naked.”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Maybe a little. But seriously, Sanji. I’m crazy about you and I want you to feel free to be crazy about me, too. I mean, I’ve never been more flattered in my life than I was at how quickly you tried to eat me out. When we’re back at sea, I’m all yours. I want to see you eat me out like you’re starved.”

He gasps, cupping your cheeks and kissing your nose. “I am starved, I am…” 

“I know, baby boy.” 

Those last words break him. He squeaks and then starts to babble, and you let him process tonight’s events as you tuck the blankets in around the both of you and settle into a comfortable position. 

At some point Sanji snaps out of it and scooches towards you to be snuggled. You wrap your arms around him and pull him to your chest, and he rests his face in your breasts and instantly falls asleep.

“Idiot,” you smile widely, looking down at his head of fluffy hair rising and falling with every breath you take. 

The rain patters against the tent’s roof, and Sanji’s breath whistles while he sleeps against you, and it takes no time to drift off yourself.

[arixella]

Hello~ I was wondering if you could do a continuation of 'you don't tell them you're hurt' with the members of Cross Guild 🙏🙏🙏

Of courseee I can doo! This one was fun to make!

You get hurt and don't tell them pt.4 ' ft. crocodile, mihawk, buggy

wc: 440 a/n: not proof read luffy, zoro, sanji law, ace, sabo shanks, kid, killer

Crocodile

-Crocodile isn’t the type to fuss, but he’s sharp, and you’re not getting away with hiding an injury from him.

“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” His voice is calm but carries a dangerous edge, as if daring you to lie to him.

-Once you admit it, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Reckless. Don’t waste my time trying to hide things like this.”

-He handles the situation with cold efficiency, ensuring you’re patched up without much fuss. However, his hands are surprisingly gentle, and he makes sure you’re as comfortable as possible.

-Afterward, he lectures you in his usual gruff tone. “There’s no pride in pretending you’re invincible. You can rely on me.”

-While Crocodile may seem cold, his actions betray his concern. You catch him casually checking on you later, making sure you’re healing properly without drawing attention to it.

-If someone else caused the injury, they’re as good as dead. Crocodile doesn’t make a scene—he just ensures they disappear without a trace. “No one touches what’s mine and walks away.”

-He might not say it out loud, but his subtle protectiveness speaks volumes about how much he cares.

Dracule Mihawk

-Mihawk is impossibly observan, so the second you try to hide an injury, he catches on with an arched brow.

“Hiding something from me? That’s unwise.” His tone is calm but piercing, like he’s already read your mind.

-He examines your injury with precision, his touch light but firm. “You’re fortunate it’s not worse. Carelessness doesn’t suit you.”

-Mihawk insists on personally treating you, pulling out an extensive first-aid kit you didn’t even know he had. “A blade is only as effective as the one wielding it. You should take better care of yourself.”

-Afterward, he pours you a glass of wine and insists you rest, staying close by with his usual composed demeanor. “I won’t tolerate unnecessary risks, especially from you.”

-Though he doesn’t openly fuss, Mihawk keeps a sharp eye on you for days afterward, ensuring you don’t push yourself. His silent care speaks louder than words.

-If the injury was caused by someone else, Mihawk’s cold fury is unmatched. “I’ll handle it,” he says, and you know he means it.

Buggy the Clown

-Buggy doesn’t notice at first, but when he finally realizes you’re hurt, he absolutely freaks out.

“What?! You’re hurt?! Why didn’t you tell me?!” His voice is loud enough to make everyone turn their heads, drawing unnecessary attention.

-He rushes to your side, flailing dramatically and overreacting as usual. “Do I need to call a doctor? Am I supposed to do something?! What if it’s fatal?!”

-Once he calms down (sort of), Buggy genuinely tries his best to help, though his methods are questionable. “Here, let me tie this… uh… is that supposed to be bleeding?”

-Despite his antics, Buggy stays by your side the entire time, even shooing his crew away to make sure you rest. “Don’t you dare move until you’re better, you hear me?!”

-He constantly checks on you, asking a million questions like, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? Do you need anything?” His concern is over-the-top but heartfelt.

-If someone else caused the injury, Buggy flips from dramatic to angry clown mode. He may not be the strongest, but his crew will make sure payback is served. “Nobody messes with my crew—or you!”

-Later, he’s back to his usual self, teasing you about being “so clumsy” while secretly keeping a close watch to make sure you’re really okay.

♡♡♡

© 2024 arixella | please do not plagiarize or translate any of my work without my consent.

[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!

[asce-of-hearts]

Hey hey can I have 💘 I had a dream about you last night... and

🦌 If I loose you, I don’t know what I will do. — With Shanks?💌💌

Put me to ease

Contents: Yandere!Shanks with prompts: 💘🦌

more Shanks content here

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP WITH SHANKS AS USUAL, SOFT YANDERE.

Nights at the ship are quiet. Nothing more than the endless ocean surrounding you to keep you company late at night. It's a strange feeling, knowing outside of the vast dark sea there's something else, someone else, people, children, men and women. There are things there, and you are missing out. Are you really? You try to delude yourself to think and pretend you don't want to grab an escape ship and let the ocean take you to wherever you're supposed to be, you fantasize about it more than you would like.

A stubble nuzzling against your neck gets you out of train of thought.

"Restless?" Shanks asks, a lazy, indulgent smile plastered on his handsome face. You unconsciously tense and then relax as he wraps his arm around your waist, making you lean a little more against the railing of the deck.

"My thoughts are killing me again." You murmur, lashes fluttering as he peppers soft kisses around your neck and shoulders. He lets out a hum of acknowledgement, and then there's silence.

"I have strange thoughts too, you'll live." He tries to provide comfort, you sigh.

"It's not that easy, Shanks. I... It makes me exhausted."

"I know," He answers, his eyes darken for a moment. "But you'll live, I promise you will. Come back to bed, alright? I'll put you at ease."

"I'm not tired."

"You just said you were exhausted," He cocks a brow, turning you around to face him. And you can't help but laugh at his puzzled expression, making him frown a little more, mocking anger. "Don't make fun of your captain, that's not nice."

"I thought you said that before my captain you were my partner." You tease.

"Well, I take it back," He groans as he uses his arm to lift you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, you're surprised at his sheer strength, at how easily he manages to lift your entire weight like it's nothing. "There we go, back to bed," He smirks, and bites playfully at the skin of your waist, making you squeak as he starts to walk back to your shared room. "I had a dream about you last night... Well, a few moments prior."

"What did you dream?" You ask him, staring at the floor as he carries you back, you feel his grip tighten.

"Eh... Not telling, sorry." He answers sheepishly, and from one moment to another he has already left you in the bed, careful and tender despite it all. You throw him a pillow as he turns off the candles, he catches it mid air, without even blinking.

You quickly find your place between his body and the covers, like puzzle pieces that fit perfectly no matter what happens. His arm, always protectively wrapped around your waist, snakes to its already claimed spot. You close your eyes, ignoring the faceless ghosts that tell you to run away, to chase your freedom.

"If I loose you, I don’t know what I will do," He whispers, his voice already gruff and groggy, you can feel the hairs on your neck rise at the intensity of his voice, of his words, even if they seem like gentle whispers. "So don't force me to figure it out."

hope you enjoyed this!!!

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[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!

[yanderes-galore]

Could you do prompts 1, 4 and 16 by asirensrage for Shanks from One Piece?

I can try, yeah. Hopefully it's a good plot for Shanks. Here's Shanks having a favorite bartender.

Prompts Here

Yandere! Shanks Prompts 1, 4, 16

"Do you know how long I've watched you? You're perfect."

"If they touch you, I'll kill them. It's that simple."

"Sooner or later, you'll understand. I had to do this. This is for your own good, okay? Let me take care of you."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Drinking, Clingy behavior, Overprotective behavior, Kidnapping, Possessive behavior, Blood, Violence, Stalking, Forced relationship.

Shanks tends to be at bars. Bars have good alcohol and with a pirate of his status, tend to welcome him and his crew. Even if it tends to run them dry of sake.

Shanks is quite used to parties. Parties happen to be one of his favorite things no matter the occasion. It keeps the spirit of him and his crew up, even as an Emperor.

Shanks had met you during one of his many bar hopping trips. His crew was all songs and sake when you met him. Plus they all seemed to have an appetite you find yourself trying to satisfy with the cook that works with you.

Shanks looked intimidating to you. That's understandable, he's an Emperor. He's got the influence of people like Whitebeard, Big Mom, and Kaido. You fully expected him to be just as arrogant and terrifying.

Yet here he was, clearly not some lumbering beast of a man and he's drunkenly flirting with you... the bartender.

Admittedly, Shanks is charming. He's got charisma to make people trust him and seems more like a protector than the other Emperors. For a pirate... He seemed oddly uncontrolled by greed to you.

When Shanks first began flirting you often deflected or just smiled with a nod. You could see the flushed complexion on his face and knew better than to encourage a drunken captain. You were just here to serve him and his crew.

Yet Shanks kept coming back, even without his crew, as though this was his favorite bar...

Or maybe you were just his favorite person.

You had your suspicions, but either way you got along well with Shanks. He often came to your bar and sat at the counter, chatting away to you when he wasn't partying. Sometimes he was drunk, but he kept showing up more sober just to properly speak with you.

Shanks knew what he wanted. The more he talked to you, the more he wanted you. However, Shanks often tried to respect your wishes.

Being involved with an Emperor of The Sea can be daunting... but he still wishes for a little fling once in a while with you.

Shanks has had his eye on you a lot longer than you thought though. Since he first met you on your island, he's been sticking around. After all... you live in his territory...

Shouldn't he protect what's his?

Shanks is tolerant of other crews in his territory as long as they don't cause trouble. Your bar happens to be popular with pirates, not just Shanks. As a result... Shanks tends to watch over you.

At first it was curiosity... but that soon became infatuation. Shanks found nearly everything about you perfect. When he wasn't attending his duties, he was watching you like a lovesick teen.

Shanks had a feeling you knew somewhat of his obsession. How could you not when his words towards you are always sweet and affectionate promises? Shanks wants nothing more than to keep you close... to always have his eye on you.

Shanks even respected the fact you said no to his offers to take you with him as his own. That's fine by him. For now he'll just visit you to continue making his love known to you with sweet whispers between sake sips.

Shanks only stepped in when he sensed someone was trying to take what's his.

Shanks hated when other people felt they could flirt with you. Shanks always saw you as his, even when he was supposedly being patient with you. He knew he was going to have you at some point.

You don't typically have fights in your bar. Shanks' presence usually kept people in line. However...

You've never seen Shanks start one himself in your bar.

This was the day you realized just how dangerous and possessive the charming man in your bar is. It was another day where Shanks was sipping his sake and admiring you. Unfortunately... He wasn't your only admirer that day.

You were tolerating the flirting of a lone traveler at your. Shanks, however, was quick to stand and confront them. You try to calm down the Emperor, saying it's completely fine! You're alright.

To him, this wasn't fine...

That poor traveler was practically dragged out of your bar by the neck once Shanks was done with them.

By the time Shanks sat back down, you noticed the blood speckled over him. You tried to ignore it... he's just protective. Yet you knew the truth when Shanks started drunkenly babbling after a few sakes.

"Do you know how long I've watched you? You're perfect." Shanks chuckles with a grin, eyes looking up at you as if he saw the damn One Piece.

You ignore him, still glancing at the door to your bar. You weren't worried for the traveler. Yet you also didn't want to think of what Shanks said.

He's... just protective....

"Ohh, sweetheart... do you get admirers like that often...?" Shanks frowned, stull unable to pry his gaze from you as he held his cup. "You're such a pretty little thing... I'd really hate to share... They should know you're all mine...."

You tense when the Emperor sits up, gently holding your hand with the one hand he had. You look at him, unable to ignore the dark gaze he held. Despite it looking like he'd kill someone... his held adoration.

"If they touch you... anyone who admires you here or anywhere else... I'll kill them. It's that simple." Shanks murmurs, making a shiver run down your spine. "You're my treasure... not gonna give you up for anyone...."

"Uhh... Shanks?" You start, gently cupping his hand in yours as you clear your throat. "Thank you but... I'm alright. I think I should cut you off on the drinks... you're worked up...."

"Mmm... anything for you, sweetheart...." The Emperor mumbles, kissing your hands gently before pulling away.

After that Shanks seemed... mostly controlled.

Yet you still feared his growing obsession.

Unfortunately, Shanks wasn't getting over his infatuation over you, his favorite bartender. He kept offering for you to join his crew, to accompany him by his side. That, or at the very least, be his love officially and let him visit you often.

You kept trying to comply... but Shanks kept getting persistent.

Shanks is obsessed with the idea of taking care of you. He doesn't want to share you with any other drunk traveler. While taking you on his crew is dangerous... it's the only way for him to keep you to himself...

Eventually, that's good enough for him.

"My love... This is better for you. You won't have to work for anyone. You'll be mine...."

Shanks hated that you ignored his reasoning. He told you it was safer to take you with him on his ship in his fleet. It was a partial lie... in reality he wanted you for himself alone... but he was an Emperor.

You should be happy. You'll have a man who can protect, provide, and care for you! Do you hate his company that much...?

... it's a big change, maybe you just need more time.

"Sooner or later, you'll understand. I had to do this. This is for your own good, okay? Let me take care of you." Shanks whispers, looking down at you in the bed you now share. At the very least he managed to coax you into sleeping beside him.

You still refuse to speak to him. Shanks nods with a sigh before scooping you against his chest. He hears your breath hitch... which causes the faintest smile on his face.

"You'll realize we were meant to be, sweetheart... I promise..." Shanks whispers, gently kissing your forehead as he cuddles you in his quarters.

"I knew you were mine since I first saw you... I'll never let you go now that you're mine...."

[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."

[thetrasha]

Hi! I'm the one who asked for the Straw Hats' ideal types. I'm here to ask the same for other characters: Law, Ace, Sabo, Shanks, and anyone else you want; honestly, I'd read about anyone. Thanks for feeding me <3

Hello anon, thank you so much for your continous interest (●ˇ∀ˇ●) 💕 Glad you like my writing so much and shower me with compliments LOL And I'm so sorry for not replying sooner. I've been sick since Monday morning 🤡I'm still kind of feverish, but I'm recovering

Anyway, this was a lot of fun!!

Ideal Types

feat. LAW, ACE, SABO, SHANKS, BUGGY

Straw Hat crew's version here

LAW

Law needs someone who…

is honest, intelligent and kind

puts more weight behind their actions rather than their words

has a nerdy or geeky quirk

is willing to let him have his space and demands some independence of their own

Law can help you cope with these character flaws:

self-doubt

feelings of inadequacy

seeming cold-hearted (to others)

An absolute dealbreaker would be…

clinginess and being too emotional

Law sees you and knows, because you resemble him so much, that you’re misunderstood. You aren’t cold or arrogant, you’re just a little too… reserved. You naturally distrust people who haven’t proven themselves and he finds comfort in that, eager to do just that. And just like that, the image you’ve wrongfully earned yourself just melts away. Like him, you’re a deep thinker, introspective and self-critical without even trying but nonetheless very much skilled and a valuable addition to any crew. Law feels lucky to have you because it’s validating to have someone around who gets him, who understands every precarious situation and who’s able to see the bigger picture. You trust in his ability to make the right call, assisting him in every step of the way. You watch over him without expecting anything in return, you’re just loyal to a fault and want to show your gratitude. Your actions make him do a double take and he starts talking to you more often. And once your walls crumble, he realises that you’re actually… incredibly cute and kind of… what he’s been waiting for.

ACE

Ace needs someone who…

values family a lot; they need to love the Whitebeard Pirates and Luffy (and Sabo) unconditionally

lives in the moment, but regularly thinks about the past and the “what ifs” of life

wants to prove themselves or others wrong/ wants to achieve great things

is self-aware, caring and compassionate

Ace can help you cope with these character flaws:

self-loathing

impulsivity

people pleasing

An absolute dealbreaker would be…

arrogance and dismissiveness

Ace sees you and, at first, views you as a threat. Deep down, he still cannot come to terms with who he is, and thus believes that you’re the upgrade. You don’t carry the same baggage he does, which means being around you is actually pretty great – and Whitebeard thinks so, too, that’s why you’re on the Moby Dick and not just some random member aboard the grand fleet. Yet… once Ace digs deep and tries getting to know you, he feels terrible for treating you so horribly; you’re unlike anything he’s ever seen. Your hardships are a part of you, but you don’t let the past define who you are, you use it as a tool to improve the present. On top of everything, you don’t push him away after he’s opened up. If anything, you pull him even closer. He’s so, so grateful to have found you. Maybe – just maybe – he’ll learn to like himself… after all, if someone like you can love him so dearly, he cannot be so bad, right?

SABO

Sabo needs someone who…

lives freely without constraints, doesn’t care what other people think about them

pursues a deeply humanitarian dream

is just, hard-working and unique

thinks rather than feels

Sabo can help you cope with these character flaws:

being too idealistic

sorrow

perfectionist tendencies

An absolute dealbreaker would be…

different political ideology and laziness

Sabo sees you and knows you have what it takes. You’re unafraid of tension and you’re quite abrasive when it comes to the intolerable… and your track record is just as impressive. You’re a rare gem who doesn’t sell their principles to get ahead in life – you chose this path out of conviction, not due to a lack of options. Maybe that’s why he recommends you for a position much higher up the ladder where your potential would be seen, where your voice would be heard and matter… Eventually, Sabo would notice a dangerous flutter in his chest every time you worked together. He would linger around you longer than necessary and try to get you to talk about your personal life just to get closer to you. Your story is fascinating, he cannot help but be angry at the world for throwing you away. Well, kind of – you’ve landed right in his arms, so it’s not that bad now, is it?

SHANKS

Shanks needs someone who…

wants to go about life at their own pace

is outgoing, emotionally intelligent and warm

has the street-smarts and strength to defend themselves if it came down to it

hopes for peace and believes in equality

Shanks can help you cope with these character flaws:

procrastination

bottling up negative feelings

stubbornness

An absolute dealbreaker would be…

being too fragile and selfishness

Shanks sees you and doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so eager to be taken care of – you just sniff him out like a hound dog and nag at him about his terrible habits constantly. He thinks it’s sweet that there’s someone amongst his loyal crew members who still believes he would change his ways. They all let go of it at some point.

…Until you don’t let go of it at all. You shadow him and relentlessly pursue his heath and happiness. At first, Shanks wrongfully assumes that you’re trying to be the captain’s favourite, but he could only watch in astonishment as you pull the same stunt on all the others. “Benn, you smoke too much. Roux, why in the world are you lifting that crate by yourself, let me help. Yasopp, you will cook these beans before eating them or so God help us all.” – he hears your voice in his head echoing his own sentiments towards his friends. It suddenly feels too real. You’re just… like this. It’s in your nature to be warm. And you offer the same warmth to… Shanks. Larger-than-life, mythical, legendary Shanks. He’s just another man in your eyes… It makes him nervous.

BUGGY

Buggy needs someone who…

feels rather than thinks

engages in creative activities and has something that fulfils them

is loving, direct/ straightforward and clingy

reassures him and would be his anchor in life, an unshakeable constant

Buggycan help you cope with these character flaws:

deep insecurity/ self-pity

abandonment issues

competitiveness

An absolute dealbreaker would be…

being distant and indifference

Buggy sees you and knows that you’re different from the rest. Not unlike him, to be honest, but that might be wishful thinking. He just feels inexplicably drawn to you; he revels in your proud smile whenever he praises you for a job well done. Sometimes he thinks that you crave his approval just as much as he craves yours… once you tore down his walls, you’re all up in Buggy’s business. Worst thing is that he doesn’t mind at all. He likes having you around, you’re not half as much of an idiot as all the other troglodytes he keeps around. The thing that he doesn’t get is, though… you actually don’t think quite as highly of yourself. It’s not humility, you’re plenty humble, but it reeks of insecurity… and believe him when he says that he knows that stench all too well. Well, you might just need a proper hype man to tell you that you’re the most amazing person to ever walk this wretched Earth, darling! One day you’ll wear that title with pride.

[jintaka-hane]

Hiiii. Smooching my blorbos on new years eve? Yes please! So ummm is it OK if it's Mihawk x reader x Shanks? I can’t choose between them. 🥺

This is such a fun idea Jintaka!! 😘

[Masterlist] Kiss your blorbo on New Year’s Eve

MIHAWK AND SHANKS

Summary: Your boyfriends have never cared if you burn the food. Word count: 600 Warning: xf!reader; MDNI, +18 All my stories are written entirely in Spanish and then translated into English, so I apologize for any mistakes I might make.

"Why did I get myself into this?" you wonder, desperately trying to salvage the charred high-quality cordon bleu you have bought for the occasion.

This isn't just any night. It's New Year's Eve, and you're spending it with your two boyfriends. So, in an attempt to surprise them, you've decided to get into the kitchen and prepare a delicious and sumptuous dinner to close out the year. But it’s not going quite as planned.

While you wrestle with a sauce that also seems determined to stick to the bottom of the pan, the two men wait patiently in the living room. One takes small sips from his wine glass, while the other is already on his fifth or sixth pint of beer. The clatter from the kitchen gives them a clear idea of the chaos unfolding inside, and when they hear pots and pans crash followed by a stream of curses, they exchange a conspiratorial glance.

You wipe the sweat from your brow, leaning over the counter to scrub at the pepper sauce stubbornly stuck to the wall, and just as you're about to curse again, you feel strong, familiar hands firmly grab your waist and pull you back.

"Come here, love," whispers a velvety voice in your ear as your lover presses your back flush against his chest.

"Mihawk, let me go!" you protest, "I said I’d make dinner, and I still have a lot to do!" Squirming, you try to pull away, even though you know it’s pointless. Once he’s got you like this, you’ll only be let go when he decides.

Shanks strolls into the kitchen and stands in front of you, trying not to laugh as he surveys the chaotic mess.

"You know, sweetheart," he grins, running a hand through his hair, "sometimes you need to know when to stop..."

"I haven't even started the dessert!" you huff in frustration as Mihawk keeps holding you firmly. Shanks laughs loudly, and you pout, looking at him through your long lashes. "Aren't you hungry?"

Shanks' expression darkens in an instant. He leans closer to you, and your breath catches as you feel Mihawk's grip tighten around your waist.

"Oh, yes, we're definitely hungry..." the redhead says, tracing your lips slowly with his thumb, forcing you to part them.

"In fact, love..." Mihawk's deep voice whispers from behind. "We're starting to get a little impatient." Holding you firmly with one hand, he moves the other to your neck, stroking it before gripping your chin and turning your face toward the man in front of you. "Shanks, care to take a bite?"

Shanks gives you a wolfish grin before pressing his lips against yours, stealing your breath as he kisses ravenously. Your arms struggle futilely under Mihawk's grip to embrace your red-haired boyfriend, but he doesn't allow it. As you eagerly returns the kiss, you notice Mihawk's hand sliding over your waist, tracing it before reaching into your pants. He then makes its way under your underwear, his fingers spreading your folds with expertise, feeling the wetness of your arousal.

“Shanks, the food is ready,” he says in his sulky voice.

You moan in frustration as Shanks abruptly pulls away from the kiss. The man lifts his gaze over you, looking at his lover behind you with a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Alright, take her to bed.”

In a single movement, Mihawk spins you in his arms, and lifts you bridal-style. As he moves down the hallway with you, his lips seek yours, giving you a passionate kiss while Shanks guides you both forward.

You laugh softly on his lips, and in the brief moment of breath your lover gives you, you catch a glimpse of the time on the huge wall clock. 

00:01.

Merry Christmas Robin!

.............................................................

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita @eustasscapitankid @nocturnalrorobin @daydreamer-in-training <3

[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.