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

[beanghostprincess]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[innerfare]

I Love You - Part 2 

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

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

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

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

[lewiscarrolatemybrain]

Y’know what would be hilarious?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[zwhoreo]

mommy kink luffy? 👀

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

nurture me - luffy x f!reader

smut

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

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

words: 2k

_______________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that doesn’t have to be always.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So good.”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’ll just be a minute-”

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

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

[undiscovered-horizon]

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

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

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

"How is she?"

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

Interesting, how some things never quite change.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A 'yes or no' sort."

"Then yes," he drones his words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But time, like the seas, has no master.

_____

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

[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.

♡♡♡

[httpwintersoldier]

『 bloodhound. || mihawk x reader 』

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I got you a new prey."

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

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

"Not some stuff. Too much stuff."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened in realization.

Shit.

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

Shit. Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirked and scoffed at the man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck!" He yelled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckled.

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

Mihawk pulled you close once more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mihawk scoffed as you crawled over to him.

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

Worst part was that he was right.

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

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

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

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

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

Mihawk chuckled, running his tip alolng your folds.

"I can tell, princess."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck Mihawk I'm gonna cum!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He simply scoffed.

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

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

Before you could speak, Mihawk anticipated himself.

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

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

[1chaerry]

Tides of Possession

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

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

w.c. : 5.2k

part 1(?)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The first night in the shared room was suffocating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He still remembered the day he first met her.

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

That was the day he first saw her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In his arms.

[rayraelleaizawa]

You find out they have very sensitive nipples

TW: mild sexual content, Minors DNI

Characters: Shanks, Benn Beckman, Dracule Mihawk

Shanks

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

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

this man moaned

suddenly, unexpectedly, loud and deep

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

"W-what did you just do-"

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

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

"That's it"

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

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

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

Benn Beckmann

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dracule Mihawk

He is a stoic man

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were shocked from his reaction to say the least

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

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

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

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

"Yes. I am sensitive there."

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

[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.

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 20

Those Lovely Things

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 7.3k+

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: You fight to find some joy while your little world falls apart. Is there anyone you can trust?

Author's Note: Hi friends! I realize that most of you came for the smut, and stayed for the drama, lol. Going forward, there will be some heavier topics including trauma, scenes depicting panic attacks, etc. I'll try to bracket the most intense sections off with ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ and I will do my best to make sure you still understand what's going on in case you'd like to skip past those parts. Thank you so much for staying with me, and letting me take this story where I always wanted it to go!

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting panic attacks and/or big trauma (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, SH (scratching while panicking), Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Double Penetration, PIV Sex, Anal, Multiple Orgasms, Hair-Pulling, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

She’s perfect. She’s everything. She’s—

Stupid, red hair.

Buggy held Y/N close, hearts still racing, still breathing with each other.

This morning he’d woken up tense, sweating with guilt that she wasn’t in his arms after all the shit they’d been through to get back.

But the arms that had wrapped around him… The lips that had kissed his neck…

“Mornin’ Bugs.”

“Morning, shithead.”

Then there were her tears. More fucking tears today. That was all he could think about. The near panic of needing to make her feel better, make her smile, make those tears stop touching her beautiful face.

Now that those tears had stopped, his mind cracked open, letting that red hair shine through like the first light of the morning sun when you’re not ready to see it.

Gods, I’m such a piece of shit. 

“Buggy?”

“Hey, star! How ya doing? Can I get ya anything?”

“No,” she laughed, the sweetest fucking sound in the world. “Just you, Bugs. Just stay with me for a while, please.”

He held her close, his head falling back against the headboard. 

“I’ve got you.”

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

Buggy’s name echoed through the halls, so loud that Mihawk wasn’t the only one that heard.

Crocodile sighed, shaking his head slowly at the sound.

“Should we punish our pets,” Mihawk drawled, the words spilling out like acid.

“Sorry,” Shanks called as he sauntered back into the lounge, a pleased smile on his face. “My other hosts are a bit busy. Mind if I—“ 

“Fuck off.”

Shanks smirked up at Crocodile, sand fading from reality after the larger man had shifted across the floor. 

“You two seem awfully grumpy,” he taunted, his voice too even, too calm. “It almost seems like you care about your captives. But that can’t be right...”

Mihawk was there, stepping slightly between the two men. Two men he’d betrayed.

“Is it really necessary to gloat, Red Hair?”

“Who’s gloating,” Shanks countered, his sunny smile falling fast. “I just wanna know that my friend and his girl are safe. Can’t blame me for that, can you? Not after everything you did to him.”

“We won’t stop him if he wants to go,” Crocodile rasped, the veins in his hand pulsing as he clenched his fist. That thought soaked his blood in a rage he didn’t know what to do with.

He knew there was nothing to be done. 

“How kind of you,” Shanks mocked, walking away from Crocodile’s glare to stand in front of his old friend. He didn’t look back at the frustrated sound that left Crocodile’s throat at the dismissal. 

Mihawk hated the itchiness in his fingers, the instinct to reach for his sword. 

“You’ve been trying, haven’t you, old friend,” Shanks breathed, his eyes scanning over every slight movement on Mihawk’s face. “Looks like it’s too late to play nice, though. Why would such a sweet girl wanna stay with monsters like you?” 

A clash of hook against sword.

Shanks’ serene face, inches from the striking metal as Mihawk blocked that golden hook. 

“I think I’ll have lunch on the Red Force. Give my friends some time to cool off. All that screaming sounds exhausting.” Shanks winked at Mihawk, nodded at Crocodile with a smirk, and strutted toward the door with a laugh. “If you hurt them while I’m gone, I’ll level this place to the fucking ground.”

With that threat, the red haired emperor left the two ex-warlords frozen, their weapons still caught together in a useless battle between defeated men. 

It was hard to say who lowered first, but as soon as their weapons were down, Crocodile brought his to the other’s throat. 

Mihawk let him.

“You knew,” Crocodile raged, eyes flaring as he failed to spot any fucking reaction on his new lover’s face. “You knew, didn’t you? He’s gonna take them both!”

“Don’t you think he should,” Mihawk choked, wishing it was just the sting of the hook making his throat tight. “We’ll get through tomorrow, then we'll say goodbye to our little pets. Our little prisoners. They’ve served their purpose—“

He hissed, knowing there was blood beneath that press of metal, wet heat dripping down his skin. It was almost enough pain to relax him. Almost.

“You don’t get to decide that,” Crocodile growled, bringing his face in close to breathe scotch scented fury over Mihawk’s skin. “You spoiled, selfish, little prince. Finally grown a conscience, and now you’re making it everyone else’s fucking problem.”

Mihawk was away, leaving the hook empty, except for his own pretty blood. He didn’t bother to stop the flow of it down his chest before he snarled back. 

“We can’t force them to stay, sandman,” he declared, his breath heavier than he’d expected. “I won’t do that to them again, not—“

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Crocodile sighed as he cleaned his hook with a handkerchief, white fabric staining red. 

“And why is that,” Mihawk purred, eating up the anger, preferring it over everything else. 

“If they wanna go, we’ll let them go,” the larger man conceded. His deep voice was almost weak with those words, though his next were spoken with power, with the need to make them true. 

“So, we’ll convince them to stay.”

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

Fuck.

You wished that Buggy’s arms could make you feel safe from the parade of memories, of demands that dragged you back down. 

It was stupid. Of course you couldn’t be free. 

A choked laugh tore from your throat. Buggy tried to soothe it away, but the insanity of it all was too much.

You had felt safe. You’d felt fucking happy with these men that threatened to kill you, to sell you into slavery. Even though you were never without fear, you’d somehow felt good with the men that owned you. Felt good with the men that threatened to kill your lover, that had beaten him bloody, humiliated him, then made you crave them so fucking badly that you almost begged them… that you had begged them to fuck you like a whore in front of him. 

Just to escape your boring, privileged life.

All of that guilt you’d tried to shove down deep was back, and Buggy’s sweet smile that had made it all okay felt like a mirage. His loving arms around you made you feel sick. 

I am sick.

He was right. He wouldn’t even have to fake it. I’m everything he said. Damaged. Wrong. Worthless. 

Buggy deserves better. 

“What’s wrong?”

More brittle laughter escaped your raw throat, and Buggy chuckled at himself.

“Sorry, baby. That list is fucking massive, isn’t it,” he soothed, hands tracing over your skin. “Wanna take a shower with me?”

He carried you, helped you, kissed you, dried you, and made you wear some of his lipstick, chasing your lips with it until you laughed and gave in. 

“Why don’t you care?”

“What,” he coughed, eyes wide as he reached for you.

“About my… About who I am?”

He looked confused, almost as if he’d forgotten. Almost as if he really didn’t see you differently. You couldn’t fucking handle that thought either way. 

“Why would I care about your shitty family,” he scoffed, grabbing and squishing your cheeks. “All I care about is how long I have to wait before I can start making fun of you for your fancy trust fund.”

Your mouth would have fallen open in shock if he hadn’t been squeezing your face so hard. He smirked at you, looking way too fucking proud of himself.

“You. Dick,” you hissed reaching out to punch his arms, his stomach, anything you could reach. Buggy cackled as he floated each body part away just before you could hit it. You squirmed out of his grip, and he floated around you, sticking his tongue out while you huffed. “I’m gonna kill you!"

“Ooh, how much do hitmen cost? I bet rich girls can hire all the best assassins!”

“Buggy– mnf.”

“I still love you,” he whispered against your lips after shoving you against the wall. “That’s never gonna change, no matter what happens, star.”

Somehow there were still tears left in you, but he caught them with his gloved thumbs, giving your red lips a gentle kiss. 

“I love you too, Bugs.”

"Of course you do,” he winked, leading you out of the suite. “Ya hungry, pretty star?”

~~~

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” Mihawk drawled as he pulled a chair out for you. “How are you feeling?”

Uncomfortable wasn’t even close to covering it. 

They let you sit by Buggy, let him hold your hand, and they stared at you with eyes that might have held concern. Or they might have had dancing berries behind them, imagining what sort of price tag you had branded under your skin. 

“Not great,” you said blandly, hating not knowing what they were going to do with you. 

The lunch went on, and they didn’t push. Didn’t try to speak with you more than some awkward small talk, and a polite request for the salt shaker. All they did was observe you.

“I want to call my sister.”

“Of course, swee– of course,” Crocodile rasped after a pause, pulling his hand back before it could reach across the table. 

“Do you already have a buyer in mind?”

That vicious growl left your throat like lightning, too fast for you to catch. Buggy’s hand went still on your shoulder while you shook with rage. 

“Y/N, we’re–”

“Y/N,” you mocked, almost proud of the way Mihawk’s lips parted when you cut him off. “No rabbits? No sweet girls? Already distancing yourselves from your old pet, huh? I guess you can’t get too attached when you have to put ‘em down, can you?”

Your chair toppled over when you stood, but you resisted the urge to shove those pretty, round tables because you had to stop being there right that fucking second. Had to stop looking at them. You backed away from their shocked faces, the pain and anger in your blood making you dizzy. 

“I hope your next pet survives a little longer,” you spat as you turned to run inside, fleeing down that long corridor. Your eyes were burning with tears, staring at the floor just ahead of your frantic steps.

It felt like only a few seconds had passed before you were caught.

“Hey, bunny,” Shanks cooed, pressing you against him. You clung to his waist, tears spilling against his chest, bare between his loose shirt. “You’re okay, sugar. I won’t let them hurt–”

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Mihawk breathed over your shoulder, so close. Shanks tensed, tilting you ever so slightly, as if preparing to pull you away. Mihawk’s wicked fingers trailed down your back, sending chills through you while he made his promises. “We’re not going to sell you, or ransom you, or hurt you, Y/N. I swear it.”

Detangling yourself from both of them with a shudder, you caught Buggy and Crocodile waiting, watching. 

“Why are you talking to me like that,” you asked, hating how hard it was to swallow the lump in your throat. 

“We didn’t think that you’d want us to talk to you so… intimately, after everything,” Mihawk explained. His fingers flexed, and you closed your eyes against another wave of exhaustion. 

“Can we just pretend today?”

Pathetic.

“What do you mean?” Crocodile came closer, that frightening face going soft, breaking you down. 

“Can we pretend everything’s alright? I just wanna pretend you care until it’s over. Do whatever you want with me, just let me feel… Just let me pretend you care,” you begged softly. Buggy’s arms wrapped around you from behind before his lower body could catch up, squeezing more tears from you. “Please?”

“Rabbit…”

“Come here, sweet girl.”

Buggy let them take you. You let them take you.

Golden eyes were so close, the scent of him making you sigh while he stroked your hair, kissing down your temple, your cheek, your jaw, before helping to lift you into Crocodile’s arms. 

Silver eyes poured over you, his deep voice so calming while you cried against another silk vest, cried as he brought you back to that magical place filled with pleasure and pain. That place where you’d felt both shackled and free.

That stupid, green, velvet couch. 

“My sweet girl. I’d never send you away. Never hurt you, babydoll. Daddy’s here. Whatever you need.”

“My little rabbit, my love. I want you by my side. I want to watch you, my fierce, little bloodhound. Tell me what I need to do, darling. Anything.”

“My shining star. You’re my everything. You’re everything I need.”

Pretty, pretty lies.

~~~

“President Buggy, sir?”

Buggy huffed while he floated his head across the room, sticking his tongue out when he flew over Shanks’ grinning face. His hands didn’t stop petting your legs while you laid across the three laps on the couch. 

“What is it,” he snapped at the intruder through the cracked door. 

“So sorry to interrupt, sir,” the man sputtered, clearing his throat. You couldn’t see him, but his anxiety radiated through the door. “The final dress rehearsal is meant to start soon. Should we… would you like us to run through it without you, sir?”

“No, I…”

Buggy’s hands went stiff, and you turned your head to look over at his concerned face, almost pained when he glanced at you. 

“It’s okay, Buggy,” you croaked, your voice a wreck after all your tears. 

“We can watch your show over dinner again,” Mihawk suggested as he laid his hand over Buggy’s.

“We’ll freshen up,” Crocodile agreed, brushing a bit of hair from your face. “How does that sound, sweet girl?”

The tiniest, most exhausted of smiles touched the corner of your lips before he lifted you, and followed Buggy’s headless body toward the door. 

“Mind if I take a peek backstage, Bugs,” Shanks flirted, wrapping his arm around the clown’s shoulders. “I always love your shows.”

“Don’t get in the way,” Buggy grumbled. You heard Shanks’ pleased laughter while Buggy floated up to press a soft kiss to your lips, and Crocodile’s wide chest kept you warm, and sleepy. “Wanna watch my show, star?”

“Always,” you breathed, wishing you were worth that perfect smile. 

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

“Don’t be so stressed, Bugs,” Shanks beamed, following his grumbly clown through the halls. “You’ll blow ‘em away at the party tomorrow. Then we can take Y/N, and get out of here. Help her smile again. She needs to–”

“You don’t know her,” Buggy hissed, rounding on his old friend. His old friend whose eyes widened a bit at his words, but still kept that fucking smile. 

That perfect fucking smile that made his eyes go a little unfocused every time he saw it. 

So he turned, continuing his scolding while he walked toward the banquet hall, avoiding that face. 

“You don’t know what she needs.”

“You’re right,” Shanks apologized, walking backwards so he could look at his clown. Look at those perfect eyes. “You know her. You’re fucking beautiful together, Buggy. It makes me so happy to see you like that. Loved. She loves you, doesn’t she?”

Shanks watched all those expressions move under that greasepaint, studying each and every one. Trying to figure out the right words to say. 

“She does,” Buggy hesitated. He shouldered past the red haired pirate, forcing the other man to keep up with his quickened pace. Forcing that smile out of his line of sight. 

“Let’s get her out of here,” Shanks urged. Even with their speed through the halls, his voice was calm, quiet, soothing. “You can protect her, Buggy. I’ll help you. You know she’ll never be safe with them. I just want you both to be safe and happy, Bugs.”

Tears. 

Too many fucking tears in her eyes. 

“When did you ask her?”

“What do you mean,” Shanks chirped, skirting around a servant with a stack of nameplates for the tables. 

“I mean, when did you ask her to come with us,” Buggy breathed, pulling Shanks backstage after looking around the banquet hall. The stage was tiny compared to the three rings he was used to, but he could get used to that swanky, private dressing room. 

Especially now that he had Shanks pinned to the mirrored wall inside, those brown eyes flashing with a challenge, and a promise that almost made him forget the world. 

Forget her. 

“When,” he growled, more forcefully than he’d meant to as he shook himself out of Shanks’ spell. Shanks didn’t answer right away, his eyes roaming over Buggy’s face, concern and charm oozing off of him. 

“The first night,” he whispered, cradling Buggy’s cheek, tilting his hips closer. Wanting to get this stress out of Buggy’s eyes, help him feel good, help him get out of here. “You still snore like a sea lion, Bugs. Mihawk didn’t hear me.”

Buggy’s red lips fell open, but he pulled away before Shanks’ thumb could rub across them.

“And the dance. What did you say to her?”

“Just this,” Shanks reassured with a smile. “I can protect you both.”

Shanks’ smile had always brought irritation or need. No, not need. Awe. Buggy had tried to compete with his friend, had fought and struggled for years. 

“I want you with me, Bugs.”

He’d never felt good enough compared to his perfect friend. His perfect friend that was always in charge. Even though his perfect friend said such lovely things about him. 

“I don’t wanna find the One Piece without you, baby.”

Those lovely things. They couldn’t be true. 

“And I don’t wanna leave your pretty star with these monsters.” 

Until finally, Buggy had believed those words. Believed that perfect smile. 

“Let me make it all up to you. Anything you need.”

But in the end, that smile had brought him nothing but pain. 

Nothing until…

“Come with me,” Shanks purred, not caring about all that greasepaint when he flipped Buggy around, shoving his clown against the mirror to kiss the surprised, little moans from his lips. “I want you so bad, Buggy. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Buggy’s eyes fluttered closed when Shanks’ fingers reached for him, finding his cock already hard beneath that bright, red fabric. Shanks let out a satisfied hum as Buggy lost himself, melting under that smile that said so many lovely things. 

Melting under that hand that knew his body so well.

“President Buggy, sir?”

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

~~~~~~

The snail went on and on. 

You’d let Mihawk take care of you, wiping your face, kissing you, rubbing cool lotion onto your flushed skin, kissing you, fixing your face up before kissing across it again.

“Lovely, little rabbit,” he’d purred before setting you up with the transponder snail. You were shocked when they left you in the lounge all alone, until you remembered that he could hear you from a mile away. 

Pretending. We’re just pretending.

“Hello?”

“Kat? Oh gods, hi! Kat, it’s me,” you panicked, realizing you hadn’t planned anything to say. 

“Y/N? Are you okay? Fuck, tell me it’s you, sis.”

“Kat,” you laughed, relief and joy flooding your drained body, waking you out of your daze. “It’s me. I helped you cheat your way through stats so you would—“

“So I would help you get out of those creepy match making parties mom kept—“

“Kat, I’m so sorry.”

…

“Kat?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I mean,” you grimaced, hating it all. “You were right. They found out who I am.”

“How much is the ransom?”

Sighing, you leaned back, tapping your head against the chair. 

“I don’t know yet, but I’m okay. They let me call you.”

“… The Cross Guild?”

Fogginess filled your mind again, trying to mesh all of your worlds together.

“That clown,” she explained, her voice getting hushed. “Your clown, and his cronies, right? I saw the flyers.”

“Oh,” you relaxed, picturing that colorful flyer that had caused so much trouble. “Yeah, but don’t worry. They haven’t hurt me. I think they’ll just ransom me back. Uncle’s gonna love—“

“You should really listen to him.”

Kat’s voice was lined with stress, something you never missed. 

“Kat, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she clearly lied, your sister’s shrill voice too easy to read. “It’s just been long enough, you know? Things are good here, and you could… we could all be happy.”

“Happy,” you breathed, not wanting to give in to anger. 

“Yeah,” she brushed off, clearing her throat. “Mom’s coming, so I… I love you, sis.”

“Love you—“

“See you soon.”

…

The snail stared back at you for too long, its slow moving eyes making you dizzy. 

Unease bubbled under your skin, Kat’s strained voice replaying in your mind. 

“Something’s wrong,” you declared to empty air, your voice hollow. 

“What is it, love,” Mihawk asked, appearing on the desk before you. 

“Kat’s stressed.”

“What about, sweetheart,” Crocodile prompted as he came to lean over the desk beside the other man. 

“He’s done something,” you trailed off, mind going hazy around the edges. 

“We’ll help you, darling,” Mihawk whispered before kissing your wrist, your eyes fluttering from his simple touch amidst all your chaos. 

“Please, don’t send me back.”

~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~

The plea was dry, futile, almost silent while your eyes got lost around the desk. The moment the words left your lips, you went limp. Your mouth slack, drool forming, ready to spill if you got stuck for too long. 

Nothing. 

Nothing. 

Just how he wants me.

What looked like panic in their eyes at the horrifying laugh you let out made you laugh even more, your fingernails scraping deep into your thighs while that grating sound tore through you.

“You can try to own me. I tried to let you. But he won’t let you. You’ll have to buy me first,” you warned in a harsh whisper, insanity creeping and creeping. 

“Sweetheart?”

“Nope,” you giggled, shaking your head too fast. “No sweethearts for me! No love for me. Just work. Nothing else.”

“Y/N…”

“Y/N,” you parroted Mihawk again, your voice breaking. “Please pretend. Please pretend you—“

~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~

“Please, tell me what’s wrong,” he urged, kneeling at your feet, your head in his hands. “Let us help you, rabbit. I…”

“Help me by pretending,” you sat up, voice clear when you brushed the fresh tears away. “I want to pretend. I want you to pretend to care for one more day.”

His strong hands gave in as you stood to walk away. 

“Please, pretend.”

You were in his arms, resting your head in the crook of his neck, feeling Crocodile’s strong presence beside him.

“Thank you.”

“All you gotta do is tell us what you want, sweet girl.”

“Thank you, daddy.”

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

Murder. 

Murder roiled just beneath the surface of their skin, bodies made up of raw nerves.

A panicked glance shared between them helped nothing, except to confirm that something was fucking wrong. 

Something far worse than what they’d thought.

Mihawk held Y/N against him, pretending to be light, pretending to be the person he’d been for her before.

The person he’d been when he wasn’t scaring her, using her, showing her what a monster he was.

But all he wanted to do was shake her. Drag out whatever horrible truth there was inside her precious, little soul so he could stab it to death. 

She’s going to leave us like this. She’s going to leave here broken. 

He glanced at the other man again, wondering if he was just as terrified as he was.

Crocodile was terrified. All he wanted was to protect her. To never hear that jarring, scraping laugh leave her throat again. It was demonic. Wrong. 

His sweet girl should never be in that much pain.

He had to fight not to tear his hook across every wall they passed, through every door frame he ducked under. 

Had to give her what she wanted. To pretend everything was alright. 

To pretend that he wasn’t one of the monsters that made her cry. 

He sat and watched the show, watching her tired face pretending to be happy while her sick laughter clawed through the back of his mind.

I can’t let her leave like this. I can’t let my sweet girl hold that pain. I’m gonna fucking gut him. 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

Woozy. 

But okay. 

So nice to sway back and forth between them. To watch your clown perform. To forget the world. 

Forget everything.

You were pretty good at it. 

Practiced. 

It helped when they’d call you pretty names, trace their warm, strong hands along your back, your thighs. Massaging your hand while you smiled at the shining star on the stage. 

Even the red haired pirate made you smile with his laughter and jokes, with his charm and soothing voice. Even with that missed smudge of red paint on his chin, you smiled at the thought of Buggy being happy. 

“Look at my star,” he hummed, his upper body racing to you faster than his legs could when the show was done. They left the band going for you, letting you sway. “You okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, not caring what Crocodile did to you now. “I think I need to stand.”

Pushing away from the table, every eye on you felt like pressure, felt like the real world was crushing you.

“Pretend,” you ordered, huffing a laugh at what a spoiled, little rich girl you were. “Everything is fine and we’re having a wonderful night, all of us together. Okay?”

Your three men promised, their voices soothing, but the forth voice cut through when the red haired man stood. 

“Everything is wonderful,” he beamed, offering you his hand. “Would you like to show me what a wonderful dancer you are, bunny?”

He looked so pleased when you snorted, and even more so when you took his hand. You didn’t think about why you shouldn’t or why anyone would stop you. 

I just want to pretend. 

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

This poor thing. I’ve gotta get her out of here.

Shanks led Y/N to that gleaming floor, sparing just a glance at Buggy. His clown didn’t match his smile, and he couldn’t blame him. 

How could he smile when his poor girl was coming undone?

“Your technique is amazing,” he teased as he kept her from rolling her ankle. “Where did you train?”

“I trained at— shut up,” she narrowed her eyes, so fucking cute. 

“You actually trained,” he laughed, pulling her squirming body against his until her eyes went wide, her breathing slowed. His next words came out soft, but there was no need to hide from his old friend anymore. Mihawk couldn’t stop this. 

“I’ll protect you,” he vowed, watching her eyes clench shut. “Come with me after the party. I don't care about your family’s wealth. I don’t care where you came from. I just care about Buggy, and the One Piece. And now you.”

Those pretty eyes were teary again when they opened, and he felt a twinge of guilt before he charged on. 

“You can be free, Y/N.”

“Tomorrow,” she sighed, body slumping a bit against his. “Tonight we’re pretending that everyone cares, that everyone gets along, that no one would ever use me. Can you pretend?”

The emptiness in her voice made his stomach twist, something foul hiding behind her tired request.

“Of course. Anything for you, bunny,” he promised, kissing the top of her head. When he turned to look for Buggy, he clenched his jaw, fighting to keep tension out of his body while he danced with Y/N. 

Mihawk’s hands were on Buggy, stroking his hair, smoothing over his thigh while the clown laid on the table in front of those scumbags. Even Crocodile leaned closer, rubbing his large hand along Buggy’s back before heading to the dance floor.

“May I have the next dance, sweetheart?”

“Yes, daddy,” she hummed, pulling away from Shanks, not even meeting his eyes before skipping toward her kneeling captor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling when he stood. Her feet dangled while he held her thighs against that massive chest. 

“Mm, see? My sweet girl doesn’t need to be a good dancer when daddy’s around.”

She squealed as the tyrant carried her across the gleaming floor, satisfied laughter floating along behind them. 

Shanks tried not to gape at that sweet girl giggling in the arms of a man that destroyed an entire country for his own fucking greed. 

Poor thing.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

“Aren’t you gonna stop them,” Buggy asked, watching his two favorite people head toward the empty dance floor. Wondering why he didn’t feel happier seeing them together. 

“We’re never gonna do that again,” Crocodile rasped, the strange tension in his words making Buggy whip his head around to frown at that intense face. “We’re not going to force either of you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Buggy was rarely out of words, but he simply stared at the man, his red lips parted in almost comical confusion. 

“I’m sorry, Buggy.”

Those words from the swordsman’s lips had Buggy fearing that he’d died, that his mind was imagining ridiculous scenarios while his body left this world. 

But those golden eyes didn’t fade to nothingness. They kept staring at him, those dangerous fingers reaching for his own. 

“The fuck…”

“We’re bad people,” Crocodile announced, and the firmness of it made Buggy crack up, his pretty throat exposed while that blue hair fell back. 

Crocodile felt the urge to be angry. To demand fear. 

That shit was getting old. 

And his little clown was cute when he laughed. His little clown was cute when he made everyone laugh. 

Still annoying. But cute.

“We’re bad people,” Crocodile apologized, smoothing his hand along Buggy’s back. “That’s not gonna change. But I wish we hadn’t been bad to you. We hope… I hope you’ll let us make it up to you.”

Buggy blinked up at Crocodile in shock, and Mihawk almost laughed. It was surprising to hear so many nice words out of such frightening lips all at once, especially without their darling in front of him.

Mihawk cut through layers and layers of guilt to touch Buggy’s lovely hair, to smooth a hand over his thigh. 

No matter which direction he went, he would be hurting someone. There would be no true redemption for a wicked soul like his. 

But he could start here with crystal blue eyes, and a silly nose. A nose he used to ridicule, but lately had caught himself almost smiling at when he saw it. Fighting not to reach for his little clown. And why shouldn’t he reach? Who the fuck was he trying to impress? This clown was more interesting than anyone he could think of. 

“I am a terrible person. A selfish, cruel bastard. An asshole,” he whispered, staring into his clown’s wide eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” Buggy agreed cautiously, a nervous laugh leaving his throat as his eyes flicked back and forth between his tormentors. 

“I’m sorry too, little clown,” Crocodile rasped, fingers pressing in gently against Buggy’s sore muscles. “I know it’s not worth much after everything, but I’d like to take care of you now. Make sure no monster like me hurts you, or our girl again.”

Crocodile watched his little clown try to understand him. He knew it wasn’t worth shit. How could a few words make up for the terror and pain he’d caused? He fought the instinct to slam his hook into the table at his own discomfort, his body not used to accepting guilt. 

But this brave little clown had stood up to him. Over and over. Protected his sweet girl from him before he knew how precious she was. Made her laugh. 

Made him laugh.

“We won’t hurt you if you leave, even if you take her with you. I hope you stay though,” Crocodile confessed, leaning over Buggy as he stood to walk toward the dance floor. “I’d love to spoil you, little clown.”

Buggy almost fell off the table when Crocodile kissed his temple, and the playful smirk on Mihawk’s face didn’t help. 

These men were fucking horrible.

Dickbags. Monsters. Pieces of shits.

But they were also interesting. Relaxing. Intoxicating. Overwhelming. 

They made her smile. Made her scream. 

Mihawk chuckled softly, and Buggy realized that his eyes had fluttered when he thought about these big, scary, bad guys fucking his pretty star. 

Fucking him. 

“So, where’s the after party, Mr. President?”

Buggy let out an embarrassingly high yelp at Shanks’ question, breathed along the back of his neck.

“Our little rabbit wants us to pretend we all get along,” Mihawk purred, danger and challenge in those golden eyes. “Think we can all get along on that giant bed, or should I tell–”

“Can we,” Buggy asked, looking up at Shanks’ grin. 

What if this is it? What if this is the end?

Buggy wasn’t sure which “end” he was more concerned with, and that made him want to beat his head against the table. 

What the fuck do I want?

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

I want to forget everything. I want everything to freeze right here, tonight. Never start again. Just this.

“All you gotta do is tell us what you want, sweetheart,” Crocodile promised, his hand tracing down your bare skin after Mihawk freed you from those fancy clothes they’d picked out for you. You giggled when Buggy started from the bottom, kissing up your ankle and shin, shivering when Shanks mirrored him on the other side. 

“You said we all need to get along, right, love,” Mihawk teased, his voice alone making your body tighten with need. “My little vixen… You want everyone to get along inside you, don’t you? Want us to spoil our little darling? Want us to drown you in come?”

“Fuck, please,” you begged, interupting Crocodile’s weak argument against it. Interrupting whatever flimsy excuse he could muster up for why they shouldn’t fuck your brains out tonight. “Please, fucking take me.”

“Anything for you, little rabbit.”

Oh gods.

 So many things. So many sensations. 

Buggy on his knees in front of you, his tongue finding your clit like a fucking magnet. Shanks behind you, his hand holding one of your cheeks aside while his hypnotic tongue made you cry out, teasing, and then fucking your ass while you twitched. 

Mihawk gripped your hair, forcing his tongue into your mouth while you whined before he shoved your head down, shoving your mouth over Crocodile’s thick cock. You cried, struggling against his size, until Mihawk took your place, showing you how it’s done. 

Crocodile threw his head back, and the needy moan from Mihawk’s stuffed throat was enough, Buggy and Shanks’ tongues sending you screaming for the first time that night. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, falling back against Shanks’ chest while you devoured the sight of Crocodile fucking Mihawk’s throat, fisting that soft, black hair, and calling him his “sweet, little prince.”

“Want us to fuck you, little bunny? Want us inside you?”

“Please, gods…”

“You heard her, Bugs, let’s–” 

“Shut the fuck up, and fuck my girl’s ass already.”

Buggy was already kissing along your cheek as they kneeled on either side of you, whispering to check if it was alright. Lubed fingers were shoved up your ass while your eyes rolled back, not ready for the pressure that was about to fill you. 

“Oh, ffuck…”

“Little bunny likes getting fucked like this, huh? Like my cock in your tight, little ass? How did I know you’d feel so fucking good? Fuck her, Buggy. Let me feel your cock inside her.”

“Buggy!”

“Fuck, star… Gods,” Buggy moaned as he forced himself inside your needy cunt. He kissed you while you fell apart, whimpering and screaming with every greedy thrust. “Shanks…”

“I feel you, Bugs,” Shanks purred, his strong fingers finding your clit. He made you come, screaming your voice away while he talked to your clown. “She’s perfect, Buggy. Let me feel you come inside her. Let’s fill her up. You wanna please him so bad, don’t you? You want his come, bunny?”

“Need it,” you managed to moan while you twitched. 

They may have said more words, but all you knew was their achingly hot pleasure pouring so fucking deep inside you. They filled and filled you while they kissed each other over your shoulder, letting out sweet, little moans while you took everything that their cocks could give you. 

Before they were done fucking each other through your body, you felt Mihawk’s fingers in your hair, tugging just hard enough to pull you out of the feelings you were about to dip into. 

 “Want more, darling?”

“Please.”

“So voracious. I wonder if these little boys can keep up.”

“We're just getting warmed up,” Shanks taunted, fucking his come into your ass with a few wicked thrusts while you spasmed against him. “Can’t wait to see what other tricks our pretty bunny can do.”

“Come here, sweetheart," Crocodile purred from the bed, sitting against the headboard. “Daddy’s cock’ll make you forget everything.”

Whining, you begged to get off of the two cocks that had just made you scream, and onto the one that would rip you apart. 

“Come on, boys,” Mihawk ordered as he helped you line yourself up, their come dripping down to mix with the lube Crocodile had rubbed over himself for you. “Let’s watch our lovely girl’s sweet pussy get destroyed.”

“Fuck, daddy,” you cried out, the stretch of him inside you still a shock after all your time together. “Daddy, it’s too much.”

“Nah, babygirl,” he soothed, kissing your neck while his hand guided your body over his. “You can take it. Take it for daddy. Take everything...”

“My little rabbit,” Mihawk hummed, kissing up the back of your neck. “You love it when we take you like this, don’t you?”

You started to say yes, but when he shoved himself into your come-soaked ass, all you could do was scream. All you could do was pant, and twitch, and come, and then fucking come again when they told you what a good, little girl you were. 

“You fuck our girl so well, little prince,” Crocodile praised, bringing a soft moan from Mihawk’s throat. “Gonna stuff her sweet ass for daddy? Show me what a pretty mess you can make?”

You both cried out, their cocks twitching inside you. So fucking good.

“Mm, be a good boy, and kiss me first. Make our sweet girl come with your fingers again.”

“Daddy,” you fell apart, feeling his lips on yours before you watched him kiss Mihawk over your shoulder. Your head fell to the side, and your eyes rolled back at the sight of Buggy and Shanks with hands and lips all over each other.

But Buggy’s eyes were on you. 

“Buggy,” you whispered at the sight of him, and suddenly he was there. He was kissing you. 

“My little clown,” Crocodile purred, fisting his hand through that gorgeous blue hair. “Wanna make it up to him, little prince?”

“Yes, daddy,” Mihawk breathed, his fingers still making you twitch. 

Buggy had already stopped kissing you, staring back and forth between the two men while they fucked into you, while he trailed his hands down your skin. 

“I wanna take care of you,” Crocodile promised, his voice getting rougher as he fucked you open. “You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you, little clown?”

Your mind was almost lost to it all, almost fucked out, but his words felt heavy, vital. Your breath caught, waiting for your clown to answer. 

“Yes, daddy.”

“Mm, such a good boy for me,” Crocodile praised, tugging that blue hair a little harder while you came on their cocks again. “Show him how sorry you are, little prince. Suck his dick. Let Buggy fuck that mean little mouth of yours.”

If you weren’t already coming, you knew you would have at those words, at the shocked look on Buggy’s face when Mihawk opened wide, at the sounds they both made when Buggy shoved his floating cock so deep, so fucking fast into the swordsman’s throat. 

“Fuck yeah, daddy’s so fucking proud of you,” Crocodile groaned, thick come spilling down the sides of his cock as he filled you. Mihawk made delicious whimpering noises while he came in your ass, Buggy’s cock strangling him, then spilling across that perfect face when it pulled away. 

You caught Buggy’s eyes when he stared at his mess, his satisfaction making you twitch again. Mihawk reached for Buggy, kissing him hard over your shoulder. 

The door closed. It wasn’t a slam. That probably would have helped you remember why there was a door at all, let alone another human being on the fucking planet. 

But the door shut, and Buggy was gone, leaving your body screaming until your other lovers let you loose, praising, and kissing, and touching, until you shivered with pleasure. Carrying you into the shower like they had that first night. 

Buggy returned, helping to scrub Crocodile’s shoulders, making you all laugh under that lovely, warm water. 

So many pretty lies. 

Smiling against Buggy’s chest, with Crocodile curled up behind you, and Mihawk’s hand touching you from around Buggy’s body, you felt perfect. 

This was exactly what you’d wanted. 

Exactly the kind of pretend you had asked for. 

Tonight you only dreamed of the transponder snail, and you decided not to answer. 

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

It was already too much. Too much that Buggy couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. 

It’s okay. He loves her. We’ll take her away.

Those words rang through Shanks’ mind while his clown couldn’t look away from the monsters in that bed. It was okay, even when Buggy left him without a second glance to kiss her. It was just for her.

Until it wasn't.

He called him daddy.

He let Mihawk… 

Mihawk had… 

Now they're kissing like that… 

Shanks had to leave. 

“Shanks, hey! Where ya going?”

The red haired emperor rarely had to lie. Rarely had to fake a thing. Never had to fake a smile. 

But he did now.

Shanks plastered a smile on his face, tilting his head at his lovely, old friend. 

“I’m good, Bugs,” he lied, moving close. He was about to touch his chin, but the thought of Mihawk there made him pause. “You should sleep in there with her. If you come with me tomorrow, then this is your last night to play pretend with them.”

“But–”

“It’s okay,” Shanks lied again, getting over himself to kiss those faded red lips. “I’ll be here in the morning, Bugs. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Soft, sweet eyes scanned his face, so Shanks held onto that fake smile as tight as he could. Wanting his clown to be happy.

“Okay,” Buggy whispered, reaching for his hips to pull him closer. "You can join us if you want. I’m sure–”

“I’ll be alright,” Shanks laughed, fighting not to shove Buggy back into that room, and slam the door on his new life that made no fucking sense. “Goodnight, baby. Dream about me.”

A bit of satisfaction ran through him at the shudder Buggy gave when he teased those words, kissing below his ear. The emperor turned around before his clown could say another word.

Shanks needed to get the fuck out of there. 

Before he hurt someone. 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Mihawk couldn’t recall feeling the amount of pleasure, safety, and comfort that he had tonight. The warmth and slow breathing of his three lovers would have had him drifting off. 

Yet, he couldn't recall feeling the level of terror and helplessness he had felt when he watched Y/N fracture, the chaos in her distant eyes sending ice through his veins.

His darling's secrets kept him awake, especially at the searing thought that she might leave with Shanks. She might leave before he could hunt and kill whatever had poured that poisonous laughter down her throat.

That laughter.

“Hey, Hawk Eyes.”

Shanks’ quiet voice taunted through the halls, dangerous laughter floating with it.

“I know you’re awake, old friend. Let’s have a chat.”

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

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Chapter 21

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[blue-jisungs]

Hello!! Hope you're well!! Could I please request something with Shanks from the OPLA - maybe one where the reader gets hit on and his crew are shocked, as Shanks just leaves her to take care of herself? (Like in a good way) Hope that makes sense and feel free to take any creative liberty you want <3

the most expensive drink

author’s note. ugh sorry for such a long wait :( i hope you enjoy it tho hehe <3 aslo i know my reqs r closed but... opla brainrot goes wrrrrrr so.... yk wink wink

warnings. alcohol consumption, lmk if i missed anything else

word count. 979

the chatter filling the bar was pleasant, almost allowing you to drift away in your thoughts. the faint sound of music being played by a local band put a smile on your face as you absentmindedly traced shapes on the wooden surface.

you looked back through your arm and met your man’s gaze on you. shanks only sent you a boyish smirk as he continued to talk about something with yasopp.

another day, another lazy evening, another drink-filled night. shanks’ decision making was questionable at times but hey, once you’re on this lovely island you won’t waste the opportunity.

so here you are, with the crew in a bar, getting some drinks for you and him.

you can feel his gaze on you, even when you’re facing him with your back. smiling to yourself, you observe the bartender mixing alcoholic beverages.

“excuse me, ma’am?”

you turn your head around lazily, not pulling away your face from your palm. you scan the stranger through your lashes, waiting for him to continue.

but you could already predict what he was going to say.

“you’re such a beautiful woman, i swear i have never seen a goddess like this before! please allow me to buy you a drink” the young man whined and you only scoffed, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue.

“oi, captain, there’s a young fella near y/n…!” yasopp observed and exchanged scared looks with others.

the red-haired man shrugged nonchalantly, face remaining stoic.

“this young pup is about to get a painful lesson” he replied. roux murmured:

“don’t make a fuss, i really like the snacks here… i’d hate to get kicked out, cap”

shanks only laughed, shaking his head.

“i trust her. just sit and watch, boys” he sighed.

his companions were in disbelief. their leader usually wouldn’t tolerate someone approaching you without him by your side and yet… he’s here, completely relaxed. maybe it was the drinks?

you sighed dramatically, pretending to ponder about the guy’s offer. after all, a free drink is a free drink.

“so? it would be my pleasure to–” he started, grinning.

“quit yappin’, boy. sure, buy me a drink” you hummed and reached to rest your hand on the dagger attached to your hip. the man noticed the gesture “but i have quite exquisite taste so you better choose a good one”

he laughed nervously and called the bartender. you couldn’t hear what he was saying but the bartender sent you a shocked, slightly amused, look. with just a nod, you let a playful smile dance on your lips.

“so, um, are you… a pirate? or something?” the man asked, scratching his neck. you wondered if his age was even suitable for this place.

with a hum, you nodded. the bartender gave you the drinks you ordered before and the guy didn’t seem to notice the two glasses.

“yes, i’m a pirate” you replied, scanning him “and you, young man?”

“o-oh. the name is mark, by the way” he sent you a boyish smile “and i will be a pirate one day”

nodding, you reached for your drink and took a sip.

“which is why… i wanted to treat you with a drink” mark stepped a bit closer. wolfing down on your beverage, you put the glass away “the most expensive one on the whoooole menu”

“woah, so generous of you” you hummed with a fake amusement. the boy started to piss you off but he was cute, believing that a drink will make you swoon.

mark rose his eyebrows and leaned his back against the countertop, closer to you than before.

“don’t worry. if you were my partner, i’d spoil you like this every single day” he leaned closer and whispered those words to your ear. you were quite surprised that shanks didn’t intervene yet.

the beverage arrived and you winked at the bartender, him being as amused as you.

taking the two glasses, one for you and one for shanks, you turned around.

“that sounds very nice, boy. but you see, my partner spoils me enough already” you grinned. mark rolled his eyes.

“sure… you just want me to scare me off now that you have the drink, huh? i won’t quit that easily, pretty. i’ll be a pirate, i ain’t scared of no–” he stopped upon noticing something.

you started walking towards shanks, exchanging looks with him. he looked as entertained as you.

mark froze in place and walked up to you quickly upon seeing you walk away.

“is that… red-haired shanks…?” he stuttered.

“yeah, my boyfriend. now if you could leave, that’d be great. i appreciate the drink but i’m sure you’re not even old enough to be here, mark” you hummed and stopped in place, seeing his face morph into something fear-alike.

“i— uh… please don’t… hunt me down…” he stuttered, eyes widening when his gaze met with shanks’.

“we won’t. but be more careful next time, eh? i’d like to meet you in the open sea sometime” sending him a warm smile, you leaned to peck his cheek.

his face got fierce red, probably both from the gesture and nervousness – would shanks be angry and beat him up for that?

you left the guy behind, finally reaching your crew’s table. everyone was looking at you in shock.

placing down the drinks, you sat down and snuggled into shanks’ side, his arm wrapping around you in an instant.

“now the kiss was unnecessary…” he grunted softly, fingers dancing on your arm.

“let the kid dream, baby. i wasn’t in the mood to break his heart” you giggled “besides, he bought the most expensive drink here…”

“well… too bad i’m more–” shanks started.

“yeah, yeah. richer, handsome, funny et cetera, et cetera” you giggled and leaned in to peck his lips. they formed into a smile as shanks kissed you back, his ego boosting.

masterlist <3

taglist. @haecien ,, @eternalgyu

[nina-ya]

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

Patching up Shanks' Wounds

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[merbear25]

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

Anyways have a good day!!!

Thanks so much for your work💕💞🫂🫂💜💕💞

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

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

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

Kid

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shanks

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To live a life worth sharing.”

Law

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

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

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

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

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

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