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[dollymingo]

Law being romantically awkward is my favorite headcannon. I'd love to read a scenario with him just genuinely not knowing how to express his feelings or not knowing how to respond to flirting. Even better if it's like him and reader end up hooking up on the DL and Law is super inexperienced BUT he's a quick learner cause ya'know, anatomy is a doctor's specialty.

STUDYING YOU; law

oh my, oh my… i hope you enjoy this. i hope he’s awkward enough for you… i think i’m too weird myself to really know how to write characters like this haha

law x reader 18+, nsfw, medical terms (?), v in p, awkward law ♡ law is a very complicated and busy man, someone who doesn’t have time to beat around the bush. or he’s simply not yet familiar with his own feelings, especially toward you.

Alliances are, by nature, temporary things.

That’s what Law tells himself when the Straw Hats dock alongside the Polar Tang. Or when Luffy grins too wide and shakes his hand like they’re already friends. When Nami negotiates terms with a sharp eye. And then when Robin watches him as if she already knows exactly how this is going to end. 

And also when you steep aboard. 

You’re not part of the deal. Not officially, at least. And yet, your presence slips into his daily routine immediately, way before he even realizes it. The curious way your gaze wanders over the submarine, the bright smile you offer to everyone you interact with.

He notices the way you look at him, too.

It’s not obvious. Not intrusive. Just… a little too attentive. Like you’re listening for more than just his words.

Like during the first strategy meeting. In the Polar Tang’s control room, you’d blended easily into the strange mix of people gathered around Law, and claimed a spot at his side. He hadn’t noticed you at first. But when he looked up, interrupted mid-sentence by one of his crewmates, he saw you, studying the map with a slight frown, completely focused.

Then you lifted your eyes to him. That smile of yours was already forming.

And every time he glances up again, you’re already looking at him. Not staring. Worse than that. Observing.

“So,” you say at one point, chin resting in your palm. “Are you always this serious, or is this just your alliance face?”

The room goes quiet for half a second. Law blinks. “This is my normal face.”

You hum thoughtfully. “Shame. I think you’d look good smiling more.”

He doesn’t respond. He also doesn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the meeting.

It keeps happening.

You always find reasons to be near him. Leaning over his shoulder to read documents, handing him things you could easily put down instead. You thank him too warmly. Tease him lightly. Compliment him in ways that have nothing to do with his intellect or his combat ability.

“You’re surprisingly gentle, you know,” you remarked once, watching him rewrap his own hand. “For someone with such a scary reputation.”

He pauses mid-bandage, his thoughts a little unclear, the way they always do when you’re this close. “That’s an inaccurate assessment,” he says.

You smile. “Is it?”

He doesn’t answer again, but he just finishes the bandage tighter than necessary.

Strangely enough, with all these small interactions, this careful dance of flirtation and awkwardness, your crew starts to notice.

Usopp was the first one to notice.

He points it out in a loud whisper during lunch, elbowing Luffy so hard he nearly drops his meat. “Hey. Hey. Why does she keep sitting next to Tra-guy?”

Luffy squints across the room, chewing thoughtfully. “Huh? Oh yeah. She does that.”

Nami follows his gaze and freezes. You were leaning in close to Law, head tilted as he showed you something on a map. Too close. Law’s arm was rigid at his side, jaw tight, eyes focused far too intensely on the parchment.

Robin smiles faintly. “That’s interesting,” she says, folding her arms. “He’s also been watching her whenever she leaves a room.”

Usopp’s eyes widened. “That’s creepy.”

“No,” Robin replies pleasantly. “That’s affection.”

Across the room, you laugh at something Law mutters. It’s soft. Private. And for just a second, Law’s shoulders relax.

Nami smirks. “Give it three days.”

“Three days for what?” Luffy asks.

“For him to realize he’s already lost.”

The days pass. Never quite the same since the Straw Hats stepped into his life. And somewhere along the way, a quiet warmth settles into the hollow of Law’s chest, unnoticed at first, until he finally allows himself to acknowledge it.

Allows himself to be interested in you.

Law prides himself on control. On understanding systems. Bodies. Cause and effect. But there was never supposed to be space for you. You don’t fit.

You make his chest tighten at inconvenient moments. You make his focus slip. You make him hyper aware of where you are in a room, how close you stand, the way your voice lowers when you speak to him like you’re sharing a secret.

It’s distracting. And it’s starting to piss him off.

So one night, when most of the crew is already asleep he corners you in the infirmary.

“You need to stop,” he says, closing the door behind him.

“Stop what?” you ask, genuinely confused.

He exhales slowly through his nose. “This behavior.”

You tilt your head. “You’ll have to be more specific, Doctor.”

He hates that you make him spell it out. “The comments. The proximity. The– ” he gestures vaguely, frustrated with himself now, “... tone. It’s unnecessary.”

A beat. Then you smile. Soft. Knowing. And this new behavior, not really new because he already saw it in the sparkle of your eyes before. 

“Oh,” you say lightly. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to say something.”

That… wasn’t the response he expected. “You were aware of it?” he asks.

“Of course.” You step closer, deliberately slow. “I’m flirting with you, Law.”

There it is.

Clear. Direct. No ambiguity.

His brain stutters. “…You are,” he says flatly.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

You laugh quietly. “Does there have to be a strategic reason?”

He opens his mouth. Closes it. “…I don’t know how to respond to that,” he admits.

You stop just in front of him, close enough to feel his warmth, his scent, but give him enough space if he wants it. It takes effort from him to not step back.

“You don’t have to do anything special,” you say gently. “I just wanted you to know.”

“That’s the problem,” he replies, voice lower. “I don’t know. Every response I consider seems… incorrect.”

You study him for a moment. He watches you too, grey eyes unfocused, thoughts spiraling somewhere he hasn’t quite learned how to navigate yet.

“If you don’t like this,” you say quietly, carefully, “I can stop.”

“…I don’t dislike it,” he cuts in almost immediately. Then, softer, like a confession: “I just don’t know what comes next. I wasn’t prepared.”

Your heart stutters.

So you reach for his hand slowly, giving him time to pull away. He doesn’t. His fingers tense, then curl around yours with surprising firmness.

“Prepared for what?” you murmur.

“For wanting you to keep doing it.”

Silence settles between you. You smile – not teasing this time. Something warmer.

“Then we’ll go slow,” you say. “Alliance pace.”

He exhales sharply. “You’re infuriating.”

“Mm. You’ll survive.”

And that’s how it starts.  With a fragile understanding. An unspoken agreement that something has shifted between the two of you, and neither of you is quite sure where it will lead. 

***

Law does not sleep that night. Not because he’s injured. Not because of strategy. But because his mind won’t stop replaying your voice. Your closeness. The warmth of your hand in his. The way you looked at him when you smiled.

Just before dawn, he comes to a conclusion. If this is going to continue, he needs to reciprocate. That’s how this works – he assumes.

So he plans. Badly.

The next afternoon, he finds you alone on deck, leaning against the railing, watching the sea. Perfect. Controlled environment. Minimal witnesses. He approaches you. “You’re… standing differently today,” he says.

You glance over. “Differently?”

“Yes.” He nods once, confident. “Yesterday, your weight distribution favored your left side. Indicative of fatigue. Today, it’s evenly balanced.”

You stare at him. “…So I look well-rested?”

“This is a simplified interpretation,” he replies. “But yes.”

You smile despite yourself. “Thank you, I think.”

Law winces. That hadn’t sounded right. Clearly not the reaction he was aiming for. He clears his throat, fingers curling into the hem of his coat like he’s grounding himself.

“I’ve also noticed,” he continues, “that since you joined the alliance, there has been a measurable shift in my crew behavior.”

You turn fully toward him now. “Measurable?”

“Statistically speaking, your presence has had a positive impact on crew morale.”

You bite your lip, fighting a smile. “Oh?”

“Yes. You’re… efficient. In a social sense.”

From behind the mast, Nami clamps a hand over her mouth. Usopp silently screams. Robin looks delighted.

“You’re saying I’m good for morale?” you ask, clearly amused.

Law hesitates. “…In simplified terms, yes.”

You step closer, tilting your head. “Law. Are you trying to flirt with me?”

His face goes completely still.

“…Yes,” he admits after a beat. “Is it not working?”

You laugh, a soft and fond expression on your face. “It’s… not traditional.”

“I suspected as much,” he mutters. “I researched nothing.”

You reach out and take his hand without hesitation. He tenses for half a second, then relaxes, his fingers instinctively lacing with yours. “You don’t have to try so hard,” you say gently. “I like you the way you are.”

His chest tightens. “…Noted,” he says quietly. “But I’d still like to improve.”

You squeeze his hand. “We can practice.”

Behind you, the Straw Hats collectively lose their minds. Sanji drops to his knees. Usopp celebrates in complete silence. Nami smirks as she holds out her hand toward Zoro, collecting her hard-earned money. Robin smiles, watching the scene with serene satisfaction.

And Law, still awkward, still terribly bad at flirting looks at you like he’s willing to study this feeling until he finally understands it.

***

Through forced training and relentless practice – thanks to Sanji and Usopp mostly – Law has started to feel freer. Less rigid. Less painfully aware of how awkward he can be when it comes to courting you.

Courting.

A word he picked up from Sanji, one he’s clung to in a way that surprises even him. Something sincere. Intentional. Passionate. A feeling he was never taught to recognize, yet one that makes perfect sense whenever his thoughts drift to you. Being respectful. Being honest. Finding the right words and the right gestures, too.

And over time, he started noticing the subtle details of your body: the way you react to a light touch, the tension in your shoulders, the way your breathing changes when his fingers drift too close to a sensitive spot. But also, more than anything, the way you electrify his mind and his skin with a single touch, how you make him weak, make him want you even more. Always.

And maybe this is what all that clumsy learning was leading him toward to this moment, where theory finally met the practice.

His touch is always tentative at first. Careful. He treats you like unfamiliar land. His hands map you, pause when you inhale sharply, adjust when you lean closer. He really takes his time noticing everything. And now, he’s starting to know your body better.

“…There,” he murmurs under his breath, more to himself than to you. “That reaction… did I cause that?”

You nod, smiling faintly. “Yeah.”

He files it away quickly in the back of his mind. Each touch after that grows more confident. Still gentle but deliberate now. Like he’s connecting patterns. Cause and effect.

His fingers trace the sensitive swell of your breasts, then drift lower, following the subtle line of your stomach, dipping beneath your hips. You arch immediately, your breath hitching, and he smiles faintly. Internal satisfaction mixing with lust. He adjusts, presses harder where you respond, your mouth round and glossy, almost begging for more.

When he leans down to press a kiss to your collarbone, your fingers slide into his hair, tugging him closer. He groans softly at the contact.

With his hand, he reaches down, his thumb dragging through the slickness between your thighs. You’re soaking, your natural lubrication coating his fingers and dripping onto the sheets.

“You’re so wet,” he growls softly, almost in disbelief. Two fingers brush along your slit, wetting them before sinking into you without any resistance. “Shit… it just slides right in.”

And you’re almost certain it’s desire speaking for him, not his brain, but it still makes you blush at how lewd it sounds.

His fingers move fast, so fast. Each thrust precise, controlled, yet desperate all at once. He feels your walls clench around him with every movement, and it makes him lose what little composure he had left. His breathing turns short and uneven, his mouth pressing against your breast, as if he were the one being toyed with. He feels you tighten even more around his fingers, and it draws a low groan from his throat, overwhelmed by the way your body responds to him.

You moan softly, a helpless sound slipping from your lips above his head and it makes something inside him tighten.

The sound is raw, unrestrained. And suddenly he can’t stop himself from talking, from telling you exactly what you’re doing to him. His voice is rough, urgent, spilling out with every breath.

“You feel… so good… like this… I can’t…” he pants, pressing closer, brushing his lips over your nipple. Every movement, every gasp, every tremor of your body is proof of how perfect this is. How much he wants to give, how much he needs you to feel it too.

So this is what Sanji meant, he thinks distantly. Courting. Paying attention. Not taking but giving. And he wants to give you so much that a shy whimper slips from his mouth.

“Law…” you whine softly.

“Yeah?”

“I want it inside…”

“Hm…” He’s already lost. “What inside?”

“Want it inside,” you repeat, this time pressing your hand against the bulge in his pants and he gathers every ounce of restraint he has not to grind into your touch.

Instead, he lifts himself toward your face and kisses your warm mouth. It’s messy and wet, but he doesn’t care, he’s too busy tugging his pants down with long, angular fingers still slick with your fluids. He doesn’t even bother undressing properly, just pushes them down far enough to free himself, strokes his cock a few times then presses into you.

When he finally enters you, it’s slow, deliberate, almost clinical, until he hears you whimper his name.

“Mm… you like that?” he murmurs against your neck. A low sound slips from his throat as he starts to move, carefully. In his mind, he’s mapping the internal sensations. He’s a doctor, so of course he knows the placement of every nerve ending, but feeling them pulse and clench around him is an entirely different story.

And even as he experiences those sensations with you, he can’t stop watching you. Watching, again and again, the way you react. The way your body jolts when he reaches a certain depth. How your fingers dig into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks. He adjusts his angle by just a few degrees – and fuck, there it is. That exact spot. The one that makes you cry out.

There, he thinks, a slow smirk finally tugging at the corner of his mouth.

It’s deeply satisfying, in a way that goes far beyond pleasure. He isn’t just having sex, he’s studying you. He wants to be the best you’ve ever had, not out of ego, but because the idea of anyone else knowing the map of your body better than him is unbearable.

Law’s large, tattooed hands slide over your hips, thumbs pressing into the dip of your pelvic bone. His mind flickers briefly to the pudendal nerve, the most important conductor of sensation here. He leans down, lips brushing your ear, voice dropping, rougher now.

“Your skin’s so hot,” he breathes. “Mm… blood flow’s all concentrated in your pelvic floor.” A quiet groan escapes him. “You’re… fuck– you’re really ready for me.”

He pushes into you again, with a slow and an agonizing push. Your eyes roll back and a broken moan spills from your throat. “Ah– Law…” He stills, buried deep inside you, breathing hard.

He makes a mental note of everything: your strained voice, the way your body arches into the mattress, the way your pussy slicks even more around his cock. His hips begin to move in slow, deliberate circles, grinding into that deep spot, until your breath stutters.

He is not  smooth or seductive like a master of seduction, but devastatingly precise. Efficient. He experiments with the angle of his hips, rotating slightly until your internal muscles clamp around him in a frantic, involuntary rhythm.

“It’s here, hm…?” he murmurs. You don’t even know if it’s a question, but there’s something almost condescending in his tone, and it makes you spill a needy sound out of you, a soft, helpless little mewl.

Your fingers twist in the sheets, knuckles white. “I see,” he mutters. “Maybe your g-spot.. fuck–, what if I apply upward pressure…”

He thrusts again, harder, hooking his hands under your thighs to pull you closer, forcing his cock to go deep. The wet, obscene sound of skin against skin fills the room.

“Law—!” you scream, body arching off the mattress.

Watching your chest heave, hearing the high, shattered sounds you’re making, his heart rate spikes. He’s not just a doctor anymore but a man utterly obsessed with the way your body reacts to him.

One hand reaches down, long fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves, his thumb pressing, circling, perfectly timed with his thrusts. Internal. External. Every sensation layered with surgical precision.

“Look at me,” he orders, voice dropping so deep that your pussy tightens up a little. When you do, you see the raw, desperate hunger in his gaze.  “I’m going to make you…” His breath stutters. “…I’m going to make you come so hard you forget your own name.” A strained groan slips out. “That– mm.. alright with you?”

You don’t even get the chance to answer. He speeds up, thrusts turning deep, urgent, almost desperate. When you finally break, your body convulsing in a powerful orgasm, he watches every muscle contraction with a mixture of pride and pure, unadulterated lust. He doesn’t pause, no,  but matches your rhythm, trusts perfectly in time with your spams. And everything drives him higher, faster but he’s not done yet. 

“You’re not over yet, right?”, he leans closer to you, his eyes darken with need. “Because I want to try… other things with you.”

Let’s just say… Law learns to be better, a little less awkward, every single day.

if you noticed any medical terms used incorrectly… no, you didn’t ☆ masterlist ★

[crossingthedreams]

"you owe me one hundred berries" (shanks x f!reader)

summary: the years brought intimacy, fun and adventure for you in the crew of the red-haired pirates. you found a little place in the world you could call home. dreams and ambitions become clearer when you are surrounded by people you love, especially when you manage to untangle your thoughts and do something about it.

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral sex, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, spitting, creampie, no use of y/n, slow burnish. mdni.

word count: 10k 

 a/n: oof, this is LONG. almost as long as shanks' dic- ok i'll shut up now but boy oh boy did i have a lot to write about this man. I love my fictional husband so much. I considered separating this into two parts, but I like it better as one swift longass oneshot, lol. hope y’all enjoy it <3

masterlist

“What are your ambitions in life?”

The question caught you off guard. It’s not like you and the man besides you had heartfelt conversations constantly. No, it was much more relentless teasing and a whole lot of work. 

Looking straight ahead, you felt the presence of the seemingly infinite ocean in front of you, the smell of salt water, and the slight sway of the ship as the waves moved around and beneath — the combination had you at ease. The sea was your home.

The people asleep on the ship were the closest thing to a family you had nowadays. And a massive thank you to every deity for that. 

Ever since you joined them, the benefits were mutual and the connection was instant. It was easy to love them, and you made yourself valuable. One of them, playing with his own name, called you their “lucky charm”. All of that due to your navigation skills that got them out of trouble and into profit more times than one. 

However, you kept to yourself. The pain, the heartache, the loss… They haunted you, even if they belonged in the past. And here, you were moving towards your future. 

“Y’know, your dreams, your ambitions…”, the man by your side continued, given your silence. You remained quiet, teasingly, which only enticed him more. “Surely you’ve heard of those”, his smile was unfaltering and his one arm was on the bulwark, bottle of rum in hand. 

You took a sip of your drink. The two of you were the last ones still awake, drinking and staring into the endless water and dark sky, trying to see where they met — at least, that’s what you were doing. He was just yapping. You’d grown used to your Captain’s tendencies of lightheartedness and mischief, and it was safe to say you were friends. Good ones, even if you weren’t eager to share your deepest secrets. You were certain he didn’t want to share his as well. You liked each other regardless because of it. Perhaps more because of it.  

“C’mon”, he drank a generous gulp, smiling still. “Gimme a drag”, as he only had one arm, he didn’t have the capacity of holding the bottle in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. So, you held it for him between your fingers, sometimes moving it towards his mouth so he could inhale. It was such a simple gesture, but it felt so intimate. 

You liked your Captain. Very much so. And, as one of the few women on the Red Force, of course you noticed that he checked you out every now and then — all men did. You didn’t mind, in fact, you rather enjoyed checking them out right back.

It was extremely rare for the two of you to have a moment alone like this, and you cherished it immensely. The man was an Emperor, after all, and you still found yourself yearning for one on one time as if he was a school mate. 

Even now, in this whole new world, he still made sure his crew had a moment to party every now and then, when things were calm. Hence, why everyone was passed out drunk and you were still standing, at guard. Or as much guard you could be in this half drunken state.

“You know, it’s bad manners not to answer your Captain, not to mention a clear act of rebellion…”

You took a deep breath, laughing quietly. “I know”, you spoke only to shut him up. You knew he wouldn’t push you too far, and that’s why you felt comfortable enough to talk. “I remember having dreams and ambitions as a little girl. I just… Don’t know where it all went”.

“I reckon it’s still in there”, he pointed at your chest, your heart — skillfully balancing his bottle of rum without the pointed finger. 

“I once said I wanted to be an assassin”, you smiled remembering the child you once were. Your Captain smiled too. “I didn’t know what an assassin was, of course”.

“Of course”, that smile was still there, perfect. As perfect as an imperfect pirate Captain can be, at least. His gaze inspired you to continue. 

“I loved reading and history. I remember my father”, your voice altered slightly, mentioning the flawed man who raised you, more emotional than before, “finding new books for me every now and then. He abdicated everything for our little family… And for knowledge. I think at some point I wished to carry on his legacy”.

The question of ambitions and dreams was a hard one. At this particular place in your life, all you wanted was to be safe, to be comfortable, to be around your found family… Around Shanks. 

“What happened?”, he persisted, interested. 

You took a deep sigh. “People. Expectations. Life got in the way, I guess”.

“But what would you want if there were no expectations, no people?”, he asked, and, although he directed the question to you, it seemed like he was looking for guidance for himself as well.

You shrugged your shoulders and smiled. “I think I would be a librarian in a small village… Have a lot of cats, and maybe horses, too. Be free, with the open skies above me and the infinite sea near, too, but with a place of my own. In another life, maybe”, you looked over at him, “All that after I travelled the world and found the One Piece with you, boss, of course”.

“Naturally”, his smile lit up the night, and he took a sip of his drink, a little lost in thought.

“What about you?”, you inquired. You didn’t shy away from returning the question to him. After all, if you answered, so should he. Although he was the boss, he still maintained quite a balanced environment. You could just talk to each other about anything, and if one wanted out of the conversation, there would be no questions asked from the other. 

His body was turned towards you, eyes on you and not on the sea. It was clear his focus had shifted from inside his mind to outside, to the night, to this moment. His attention was almost too much. You returned your gaze to that water below, the sound of the waves a good substitute for silence. 

“Honestly?”, you nodded as he spoke, “As a kid… I just wanted to be a carefree pirate with…”, he stopped himself, shaking his head lightly. It was his turn to look away into the distance. “My friends.The freedom of it all called to me”, he finished, after taking another long sip of his drink. 

Silence ensued. Yet, the quiet with your Captain was comfortable. Even though he was propense to partying and laughing, he seemed in his element in the silence too. A man of his stature with an ability to feel deeply was a rare thing. You felt immensely proud to be by his side, to be a part of his crew. It was no lie that you wanted to see the world, but you weren’t sure you would have allowed yourself to want it this badly had you not joined his crew. They made this possible, and, even though there was violence and discomfort sometimes, it was good. 

Even though you tried not to, your glare kept returning to him. Perhaps your thinking was too loud, because the man turned to you again. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he did so often. 

“Did you lose something similar to my face or am I just too handsome?”, the amusement in his voice was tangible. 

“Oh, shut up”, you tried to cover your smirk by drinking some more, but he caught on, clearly having fun.

“No, seriously”, he took one step closer, “am I really so beautiful that your gaze just falls on me naturally?”

You laughed, but you felt your face redden nonetheless. You could try to play it cool, but this interaction had begun to make you nervous in the best way possible, and the part of you fueled by rum wanted to see where it would lead.

“Yes, Shanks”, you playfully responded. Calling him by his name was a dangerous move, especially in the mocking tone you had on. You brought the cigar to your mouth, lighting it again and taking one long inhale. You breathed out the air, still smiling slightly, your Captain’s eyes now predatorial. “I do think you’re that beautiful”.

Another step, this time you took it. The two of you were so close you could feel his warmth. His body towered over you, all six foot seven of him. It almost made your neck hurt looking up to him, but the thrill of this situation made anything bearable. 

“Care to share?”, he motioned to the smoke between your fingers with a raise of eyebrows. 

You just lift your hand close to his mouth so he could breathe it in. When he exhaled and you began to lower your hand, he stopped you, holding your wrist and the bottle at the same time. Then, he did the unthinkable. He kissed it. 

His lips were rough, but they felt amazing on your skin. Perfect. As if they belonged there. 

Even this small gesture, this little kiss on the inside of your wrist, the smoke still coming from the cigar, caused an inexplicable rush. Body on fire, burning as red as his head of hair.

His gaze never left your face, not even when your glare flew from his eyes to his lips, still lingering on your skin. 

Your poor heart, beating so quickly for a man so unattainable. Yet, a voice inside you, most likely drunk as well, whispered softly, if he could be attained, it would be by you.

A loud noise came from inside the crew’s quarters. You jumped, but Shanks simply moved away softly. 

As quickly as the moment came, it was gone. 

The cigarette in your hand went out. 

***

It had been a few months since the hand incident, if it could even be called that. The Captain acted pretty much the same most of the time, composed and natural, but you felt changed in your very core. 

Sometimes, you’d look for him and find him already staring at you. Every now and then, during a party or celebration, some drinks in, you’d flirt with him and he would flirt back, all charm and charisma. 

You brushed the incident off as a drunken reaction, but there was a part of you that couldn’t get rid of the sensation that something between the two of you shifted, and that you might want more. 

The slight shift in his demeanour came not only from his gaze, or the flirting. There was a new found protectiveness, as if his shadow was towering over you as more than a Captain. One time, when the ship was docked on a random island, you felt him come behind you during an argument with a shopkeeper. You hadn’t realized he went in after you, and yet, there he was, by your side. You didn’t even have to ask.

The conversations you had around others were different now too. The Captain valued everyone’s opinion, but you could tell by the way he wouldn’t take his eyes off of you that he wanted to know yours, not the filtered version you carefully crafted for others, but your true, honest opinion.

Either that, or you were hallucinating from scurvy.

The night fell swiftly, and the crew was scattered in this small fishermen’s island. You were probably the only one on the ship still, and your intention was to enjoy the quiet night alone on the ship with a book you picked up at the shop the day you had anchored. 

A ruffled noise came from behind you as you made your way to the common room. You reacted instantly. Book in one hand, dagger on the other, you were ready to defend yourself and the Red Force. 

“Jeez, at rest, soldier”. The voice came from behind you, all fun and giggles. You could recognize that sound anywhere. “At least I can sleep soundly knowing you are guarding us all”.

“Heavens, boss!”, you put the dagger back in your belt and held your book close to your chest. Turning around to face him was a natural reflex, but a part of you wished you hadn’t done it. He was quite the sight — deep red hair, built like a god, even his scars were attractive. “You scared me”.

“You look adorable grasping your book like that”, he said, letting his body fall on the wall. Back against it, one leg up to balance himself. There he was with the flirting once more. That smile could stop a war, you were certain.

Your head fell to the side, in a way you hoped was sweet and charming, and you had to hold yourself not to smile. Part of you wanted to maintain a strong facade for him, tease him, make him work for it a little. 

He was your Captain, but he was also a man. 

There was a flame behind his eyes and an energy in the way he tilted his head, matching your movement, which had your chest moving up and down more strongly. Air felt rarefied, and suddenly you were aware of every part of your body — the red in your cheeks, the white of your outfit, the shaking of your legs, the sweating of your hands.

This should have been simple. It was just a Captain chatting with his mate. 

It could be just that.

However, you realized this was the first time you and Shanks were alone together since the incident. 

“Cat got your tongue?”

“No, I simply have no adequate response”. Your mouth was faster than your brain. Maybe, in another life, you were more eloquent, like your father, or maybe elegant, like your mother. But no. You just stared at the man who was your Captain and the object of all your desires, and said incoherent nonsense.

“You haven’t quite figured out what I want you to respond, huh?”, he read you like an open book. “You can just speak your mind, you know”.

The cover of the book was endlessly interesting. The night smelled like salt, and the lighting in the corridor leading to the common room was dim. 

You felt him take a step closer before you saw it. Once more, you were in a compromising position — with your Captain towering over you, dark cloak almost shielding the both of you. You remembered this feeling, this that came as easily as breathing. 

His one hand moved up towards your chin, lifting your head so your eyes would meet. You knew you could be seductive and blink innocently and just lure him in if you wanted, but this was Shanks. 

He was more experienced than that, and he would be able to tell if you were doing something only to please him or because you thought he would want it. 

In your mind, you constantly found yourself thinking about what your Captain would do to you. Of course you had heard many stories about his conquests, his one night stands, his lovers — all of whom seemed more than willing to go back for more. All made it seem like sharing Shanks’ bed was a dream.

You were far from virginal, but any involvement with your Captain had the potential to be complicated, so you were a little hesitant — even though the tension was palpable, even though his hand remained on your chin. The hesitant part was bigger than the people pleaser part. 

And the attraction was stronger than any hesitation.  

So, you did the one thing you could think to do. 

One hand moved to hold his wrist, and you moved it slightly closer to your lips. With a suaveness that was strange even to you, you kissed it. 

It was the very first time your lips touched Shanks, and it was magical. 

If this was an answer to the questions you had, it was a good one. 

His shock was evident in his face and in his body. He tensed up immediately, not used to having someone treat him with such fondness, hold him with such care. Even though he was the furthest thing possible from chaste and coy, his endeavours were, more often than not, much too raw. 

The Captain usually didn’t have a problem with his dominating, charismatic personality — he constantly used it to his advantage, and it worked. Although he would much prefer being carefree, life happened and he had to play the hand he was given. But there was not a single part of him that expected this. 

He wasn’t in control, for once. After all, this wasn’t a one night stand or a hookup with no strings attached. The two of you were connected by something greater than life, and your entire livelihood would be affected if it ended poorly. 

It wasn’t in Shanks’ nature to worry this much, and it wasn’t in your nature to do something this recklessly. 

And, somehow, your lips still didn’t leave his skin. 

You blinked once, twice, hoping for a reaction. The seconds dragged on for days, it seemed. His mouth was slightly open, and his eyes never left yours. 

His big right hand moved, cupping your cheek, and your eyes instantly closed, relishing in his touch. Was it you who let out a moan? You couldn’t tell, so lost in the moment. He murmured your name, a warning, and you opened your eyes to find an expression you’d never seen before in his face.

“Tell me to stop”, he said. 

“No”, was your murmured answer. 

He used his strength to push you against the wall behind you, now in control again, where he belonged. The hand that was soft on your cheek moved harshly to your neck. He pulled your hair back, just a little, not excessively. Your neck was exposed, and he would have to lower his body a lot to touch it with his lips, and damn, you hoped he would.

You dropped your book, which fell to the wooden floor with a loud thud.  

His signature red hair was covering his eyes, but you could feel the predatory gaze on you. 

You half expected him to kiss you, take you to his chambers and claim you in the most animalistic way possible. But that wasn’t him. The man standing in front of you was calm, lighthearted and fun, albeit domineering. Easily taking charge of the situation and making it what he needed. So, it was no surprise that he lowered his head to press his forehead against yours, and said “You smell so good”.

You just chuckled, now holding his waist. He sniffed your hair like a puppy would. 

“Seriously, is that driftwood?”, you could hear his smile when he spoke. Perhaps it was insanity. But having Shanks close to you like this, his body attached to yours and his attention solely on you was insane, so you didn’t see any harm in playing along. 

“Shut up”, you giggled. You looked up to him, trying to memorize his features. 

The moment suddenly became serious. Your giggles stopped, and his smile vanished. The rest of the world vanished, too. No sounds, no light, nothing. 

There was only you and him. 

The built-up tension was a solid block above the two of you. You wanted nothing more than to break it, but, at the same time, the agony was delicious. Waiting, anticipating and yearning somehow made this moment all the more precious. 

Closer, your mind screamed. You shared his air, coming from his parted lips. There was an unspoken need for more closeness, for less space to be between you two.

Closer, closer, closer. 

Just like clockwork, a noise came from the door, interrupting. You didn’t want to be parted from Shanks, not in the slightest. Yet, to preserve this moment and others that might come, he let you go, kneeling to pick up your book. 

A drunken Yasopp made his way down the corridor right after, barely speaking to you or the Captain. You heard him murmur something about showing them who’s aimless when he went inside. 

Your Captain, still looking at you, but further than you wished, nodded once in a silent “I’ll see you later” movement. The legend, the myth, standing in front of you. All those stories about his doings, all the fuss and glory and bounty. It constantly amazed you that, even though he was indeed legendary, he was still a man. 

A man who, despite having a complicated past and an even more complicated present, remained kind. 

His kindness was shown once more when, before leaving, he approached you and gently kissed your forehead. You could feel his agony, his yearning — a twin to your own.

There was a part of you that wanted to follow Shanks as he left, long steps towards his chambers. In fact, you wanted nothing more than to follow that man and continue your interaction, to finally feel more of him. But there was a force stronger than nature, an intuition, a voice that whispered you should let him go and come back to you when he’s ready. 

So, you did.

***

As the days went by since your last encounter with Shanks, you felt more and more afflicted by his absence. Nonetheless, you felt certain you did the right thing. 

Your body was on fire just remembering the way he held your hair, the way his eyes looked at you with delicious anticipation and warmth. 

It had been a long time since you felt this way, if you ever did. Sure, every now and then you craved sex and you didn’t mind finding someone in whatever port you were anchored to satisfy your needs. It was carnal, and it was good, mostly. 

However, this longing was different. It was a kind of interest you had rarely felt. The more Shanks you got, the more you wanted. 

And it wasn’t enough. Stolen glares, a touch of hands, laughing at the dinner table surrounded by the crew. It just wasn’t enough. You needed to smack that smirk right out of his face and then kiss it better. 

A couple weeks after that night, you could still feel Shanks’ hand on your cheek, you could sense his arm around you… The attraction was mutual, of that you were sure. 

You wondered if the agony of these days apart was mutual as well. 

Will it be long before he comes once more?, you were tossing and turning in your hammock, thoughts of Shanks flooding through your head.

The night had fallen quietly, and most of the crew was asleep. You only heard the slight snores and the waves crashing against the Red Force. The ship had not anchored since you last set sail, moving through the sea at a comfortable pace. 

You stood up quietly to not wake up anyone, and moved up quickly. Going out on the upper deck, getting some air and smelling the ocean beneath you. That was what you needed before trying (and most likely failing) to fall asleep once more — it would be good to have the air cool you down when you felt like you were burning up with need, with yearning. 

After passing through the corridor where you last spoke with Shanks, memories surrounding and consuming you like embers, you made your way out into the night. 

The relief of seeing the endless sky and the infinite waters surrounding you was immensurable. 

That thrill only lasted for a moment, however, because your eyes landed instantly on the figure covered by shadows, but whose silhouette you’d recognize anywhere. 

You began to turn around, intending to leave him be, when he said, “I can hear you”, nonchalantly. 

Your face contracted as you turned around, smiling and embarrassed. “Sorry, boss, I was just going to enjoy the silence for a while. Didn’t see you there”.

“Please”, he motioned to his side. An invitation and a promise of peace.

You walked towards him with as much caution as you could, your mind still hazy. His body was supported by the bulwark, and there was a cigarette half smoked in hand. 

He didn’t look over, respecting your need for stillness. 

You had no idea how long you stood there. It could have been hours, days or years. 

When you finally turned to him, he was turning to you too.

“This is weird”, you said.

“The sky is beautiful”, he said at the exact same time. He took a second to process your words, then smiled. “What’s weird?”.

You pointed to yourself and then to him. In his usual fashion, he just shrugged jovially, corners of his lips upward. “It’s good weird, you know, but still a little weird”.

“But seriously, what’s weird?”, he turned around, back facing the sea. “The fact that I wanted to hump your leg like a puppy?”

You laughed, happy to be met with the same humour as always. At least, you had a friend in him, regardless of the rest. 

“I would’ve let you”, you lifted your eyebrows in a knowing manner, teasing him. He was smiling, too. “The sky really is beautiful tonight”.

Obviously, you still wanted him. Damn, you would really let this man hump your leg if he was into it for real. You were a little kinky yourself and, truth be told, you were willing to try anything once. And to try with Shanks, of all people? What a privilege that would be.

Out of all the dirty, unholy things you wanted to try out in your life, you were lucky enough to have done most of it. There were a few times it just happened, and others you planned out with some partner. 

This whole situation made you think of the Captain’s kinks. What does he secretly wish for in the middle of night like this? Did he come up to the deck for air from the hotness of imagining a tad too much?

“You look like an ass guy”, you blurted out before even understanding what you were saying. Oh, the things insomnia and horniness can do to a girl. 

Shanks almost choked on smoke. “What makes you say that?”

You tilted your head like an interested dog would, trying to see any sort of disinterest or repulse in his features. Instead, all you found was genuine surprise and curiosity. “It’s a little controversial, right?”, he nodded, smile growing. “And it seems like you’re the kind of guy who likes it a little dirty”, he chuckled as you spoke, “and who would love to have it tight and a little painful”. His silence was deafening, even if his smile was still there, so you hit him playfully with your elbow. “Am I wrong?”.

“Oh”, only that sound came from him. You were still smiling. A pirate Captain, an Emperor of the New World, the legend, the myth. Right now, he was simply the man before you. Red hair, red cheeks. “Woman, are you trying to kill me?”

You didn’t answer, containing your laughter, amused by the situation. Hell, if it was weird, you didn’t mind making it weirder. At least, you both were having fun.

“Just wanted to check how blue your balls can get”, you turned around, elbows on the bulwark. 

“The answer is very”, he copied your motion, turning around as well. With you crunched over and him standing at full height, you felt like a devotee worshiping a god. Come to think of it, you wouldn’t mind worshiping this man. 

The sea wasn’t as agitated as usual on this night. A good counterpoint to your heart, that was almost beating out of your chest.

“I would love to see it”, you joked. It wasn’t that much of a joke, actually, but the situation demanded some humour. 

“Come get it, then”, was his response. He looked so calm in this whole situation.

You opened your mouth to speak, but words would not suffice. You were never that great at conversation anyway.

There was nothing left to say. Only to do. 

That’s why you stood up, adjusting your posture. Shanks immediately turned his body to yours, giving you his full attention, almost as if good posture was alarming — you could tell, by the twinkle in his eyes, that he was having as much fun as you. You got on your toes and threw your arms around his neck, in a dramatic fashion he certainly admired, and, at long last, brought your lips to meet his. 

Although Shanks was a little surprised you actually followed his instructions and went and got it, he reacted quickly. He kissed you back passionately, using his one arm to pull you closer. 

He kissed just like you thought he would — full of feeling, dominating but not aggressive. Intense. The kind of kiss so unbelievable that it would haunt you forever. His experience was clear in the way he kissed, not messy, not too much, just fully him.

He was much taller, and even though you were on your tip toes, he still had to lean down. That didn’t stop either of you. One hand moved through his hair — you had always dreamed of doing this — and the other held his neck as if he was getting away. By the way he held you, however, you could tell he wasn’t going anywhere soon. 

Warmth flooded you. Him, him, him. 

Heavens. For a man with only one arm, you could surely feel him everywhere. 

Your belly was turning with excitement and a feeling you didn’t really want to admit you felt. Right now, all that mattered was this proximity, this intimacy. 

The Captain, always aware of his surroundings, turned you so your bum hit the bulwark, and he lifted you with ease. When your eyes met his, you could tell he was looking for an answer, that he needed one.

He mirrored you this time. He would take anything you could give. He was choosing you, for whatever reason, and he wanted to give you all the time to choose him back. Never pushing you, never pressuring. 

There was no need for time. You had him right now. 

Your hand moved on his shirt, half-open in classical Shanks fashion. You felt his chest rise and fall beneath your hands. Taking advantage of the position, you pulled his white shirt towards you, bringing your lips together once more. 

How easy it was to kiss him, how very natural. It amazed you how instinctively you knew to wrap your legs around his waist, even if you were out on the deck. It was remarkable how his body moved with yours, matching every movement before you moved at all. His lips never left yours, his tongue rhythmically asking for passage to your mouth. It wasn’t as messy and guttural as one might think, but calculated to the point of making you wonder if this man was carefully made for you.

You moaned against his mouth, not able to control yourself. That made him bolder, hand moving to your leg and squeezing. You opened your legs more, allowing his body to come closer to you between them. 

“Fuck”, he muttered when your lips separated. You already missed him, already craved him, more so than before. You bit your lower lip, holding in a smile. His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged much like your own. “Let me fuck you”.

Yes. 

“Wow”, you said, trying to remain serious instead of taking all your clothes off and bending over in a common area of the ship, “Won’t even buy me dinner first, huh?”

He laughed loudly, even though you were acting all serious.

Although Shanks’ laugh was no cause for concern at the Red Force, it was the dead of night in the middle of nowhere. You shushed him and put a finger to his lip, the universal “shut up” sign. 

“Are you crazy? People will come here!”.

“Who cares?”, his voice sounded like a smile. Was that even possible? He kissed you gently as his hand caressed your thigh, making your sleeping gown raise and show more and more skin, which seemed to enchant him greatly. “I own everything around here, in case you haven’t heard”.

You let out a surprised sound. “You don’t own shit, boss”.

“Yeah, baby, talk dirty to me”, he gripped your thigh and kissed your neck playfully. You were giggling, happier than ever. The air was cold and the fantasy of moaning “boss” as Shanks was inside you had you hotter and even more bothered. 

You two were giggling and kissing, enjoying this moment, not wanting it to end. 

“Come to my chambers”, he said between kisses. His hand held you tightly, moving down towards your bum and squeezing every now and then. You always had a hunch the Captain was an ass man. 

“People will know something’s up when they wake to see I’m gone and then see me coming out of your room”. 

Your response only brought indifference. “And?”.

“Well, boss, I think having forty grown men prying won’t help us in any affair”, you separated from the kiss, holding his chin so his eyes could face yours. He was beyond beautiful, and a part of you, a possessive, unreasonable and irrational part of you, could only think mine, mine, mine, mine, mine. “And I’m pretty sure I’ll come back for more once I have a taste of you”.

“Don’t worry about them”, he replied. At this rate, with the hotness of your body, it would take very little talking to get you in his bed, despite your concerns. “We’re all that matters”, he kissed you lovingly, “Come with me”.

He took a step back and stretched out his hand.

You took it. 

***

You had been in Shanks’ quarters more than once, but never in a situation like this. One time, he was so drunk he threw up and you found yourself cleaning up as he fell asleep on the floor. There was this other time, when you were so nervous after losing a stupid game, that he just locked you in the room as punishment. He said you were grounded or something, and you had to stay until you were no longer in homicidal mode. Everyone laughed, and you broke a couple things out of vengeance. 

Now, however… This was different.

Shanks sat on his bed, not a care in the world. His cigarette went out, and he motioned to get another in his pocket, but thought twice. He looked at you, who were observing the maps on the walls, seemingly trying to play it cool, and chuckled. 

You turned around and met his gaze.

One step and you were standing in front of him, between his legs he so gloriously man-spread. 

He didn’t have to tell you to make yourself at home. You were home.

His hand touched you behind the knee, and you almost jumped in anticipation. He travelled upwards slowly, almost touching your butt and then not, just to go down your thighs again and repeat it all over again. It was torture. It was delicious.

You let your hands rest on his shoulders. His big, hard, muscular, manly shoulders. Damn, had he been working out? 

He finally stopped playing around and pulled you closer. You straddled his lap, letting your core dangerously close to his, as his hand stayed on your butt.

“I’m definitely an ass guy”, the way he laughed was surprisingly wholesome. You couldn’t help but to laugh back. 

“I knew it!”, you celebrated, raising your arms above your head.

Shanks took advantage of the movement, eye level with your tits, to kiss your chest gently. “But I have to admit, these make me wonder if I’m not a boob guy too”.

Your breath got caught in your throat.   

You wanted him to do something, to just tear your clothes and take you. Your eyes were closed, savoring the moment, and your hand moved down to his signature red hair then to his shoulders and then back. 

There was a beat of silence, of complete stillness. You were not even breathing as Shanks approached your chest and open mouthedly kissed your collarbone. 

You looked down and met his gaze, a serious expression on his face. His eyes searched for any hesitation, any doubt in yours, but he didn’t find any. He wouldn’t find any. This was irrevocably what you craved, intensely and deeply. 

You moaned when he resumed his ministrations on your skin. A gentle kiss near your chest, a peck on your neck. He explored with the expertise only a pirate could have.

Finally, he moved his hand to the front of your clothing and began to pull down. Once more his eyes searched you for a sign to stop. 

You mouthed more without making a sound.

Ever so sweetly, he pulled your night gown down and freed your breasts. You let out a whimper as he let out an animalistic sound. His hand gripped your thigh as a lifeline as he drove right in, kissing the skin and then licking where his lips just were. 

He nibbled at the soft skin of your chest, in a way you were sure would leave bruises, even if there was no force. The ghost of his lips would haunt you forever.

Without any warning, his hand pulled your clothes down to expose more skin. You moaned as he sucked one nipple, your pussy already clenching. At the same time you desperately wanted him to move south, you wanted this moment to last. 

His hand was on your waist, holding you for dear life as you rocked your hips lightly, experimenting. The motion caused a positive reaction, you realized as the man let out a sigh. 

“I have wanted this since I first laid eyes on you”, he confessed, moving to the other breast, licking and kissing and involving your nipple in his mouth. You moved your hips against him again, hoping to gain some relief, and he let out the prettiest moan you’d ever heard. 

“You had me since you first laid eyes on me, boss”, you replied. 

Your confession in between a shortened breath seemed to entice the man, for he lifted you off him with ease and threw you on the bed like a ragdoll. Then, almost as if he had read your mind, he ripped your night gown in half, exposing you to his fully clothed self. You gasped and his eyes darkened. 

There was something about the power dynamic… Something about being on display for him whilst he was clothed. The need you felt was brutal. He was up on his knees, opening your legs to make space for him, with excellent balance for a man with only one arm. 

Just like a damned clockwork, came a knock on the door. 

Shanks growled in frustration. “I’m busy”, was his harsh response as he resumed his ministrations on your body. He lifted one foot and kissed it with such care and adoration it made your heart flutter and your pussy to clench around nothing. 

“Just making sure everything’s alright, boss”, Benn’s voice came from the other side of the door, “You were nowhere to be found”.

“I’m in my room during the night! What’s wrong with that?”, he replied, still holding your leg up. You giggled at the situation, trying to remain quiet and failing. 

Beckman’s scuff was followed by his footsteps, moving away from the room. 

Truth be told, you had a hunch Shanks suffered from insomnia since long before you two had met. Meeting him in the dead of night, him offering to stay guard, all the parties that went well into the morning… The signs were clear.

It took one to know one, right?

Your heart was beating fast, but not only for the horniness. No. This had become something else the moment all the pieces of a puzzle connected in your head and you saw your Captain as not a myth, not a legend, not an Emperor or a pirate, but as a man. A flawed man, who had suffered so much in such a short life span. A man who looked at you and saw a version of yourself you’d grown to love. 

“Where were we?”, he smiled down at you, still teasing and charming, but you just rested your leg down and pulled him in. He looked surprised, almost confused, for a moment, before you joined his lips and yours once more.

You hoped the kiss would convey the desire and all the feelings you couldn’t quite name. 

The man murmured a ‘what’ as you pushed him down on the pillows and straddled him. 

It was different, to say the least, to be on top fully naked as the man beneath you was fully clothed, but you didn’t really care, not when Shanks opened that smile. The one that had the entire world stopping just to see it for a second.

You rocked your hips and made a sound you couldn’t recognize as you began to kiss his chest, opening his shirt to see more of him. More, more, more. 

You moved your body south, to the waistband of his pants. “These are ugly ass trousers, boss”, you commented, earning a laugh from him. “Maybe we should take it off… And then throw it into the ocean?”. 

It was true, you really did hate those pants. But that was not the reason why you wanted them off. 

Shanks scuffed jokingly. “You can do anything as long as you take ‘em off right now, love”.

The pet name caused your brain to short circuit for a beat. Love was a really strong word in your books. Yet, somehow, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

You put a pin in those thoughts because there was something hard and hot calling you. 

The pants were quickly discarded into the floor, along with his white shirt. The laziness in Shanks took over and he let you do most of the work, but you didn’t mind. Not when there was something so interesting hiding in those ridiculous pants. Not when every word he said was a holy command to you. 

Your mouth went dry at the sight of Shanks, naked, laying in front of you like a five course meal. Not only that, but oh, his cock. You had no idea a dick could be that pretty. Long, thick, with a cute pink tip and veins that seemed put there by a skilled artist and not some randomness of nature. 

All of him seemed straight off a painting, to be honest. Even his missing limb, the place where your gaze stayed for more than a second. Enough to make him touch it, trying to remain lighthearted but a little tense nonetheless. 

“It’s an adjustment, really. The whole missing arm thing”, he said, tone playful, but you saw underneath it. There was pain lingering in his eyes. Physical pain, yes, but emotional pain too. There was a story there, one you hoped he would share whenever he was ready. 

You just kissed his entire body, from his legs to neck. You purposely skipped his cock, hard and glistening with pre-cum. Your hands followed your mouth, until you felt you had touched him everywhere. 

The last place you were going to caress was his left shoulder, the place where his arm used to be. As your mouth moved to it, he held your hair gently, stopping you. 

“You don’t have to”, his voice was a whisper. There was a lot of emotion in his eyes, and you hoped he could see it in yours too. 

“I want to”, you replied, confident he would stop you if he was uncomfortable. As long as you were concerned, though, all of him was made for your kisses, for your touches, for love. 

He let go of your hair, hand still on your head when you pressed your lips there for the first time. 

You looked at him to make sure everything was fine, and you were met with adoration. You proceeded, cocky smile growing in your face as you moved down his body again.

“Tease”, he messed with your hair, biting his lower lip. 

If he hoped for an answer, he would be waiting for a long time. After all, you were face to face with his dick once more, mouth watering and the unholiest of thoughts going through your mind.

Surely, he had made another snarky comment by now, but you were too far gone to listen. You licked a stripe from his base to the tip, and he gifted you with a delicious moan, one that went straight between your thighs, adding to the wetness. 

The licking and kissing part was easy. His dick was just too good and he even tasted good, too. But the sucking part could be a challenge, considering he was big and thick. You wouldn’t back down from a challenge, though. Oh, no. 

You remained relaxed as you wrapped your lips around the tip, using your tongue to stimulate him even more. You used your hand as well, softly rocking the part of him you couldn’t fit in your mouth yet. 

Even though you were relaxed, this was hard. Pun intended. 

Words of affirmation showered from his mouth, ‘so good’, ‘that’s it’, ‘you’re so pretty’. But you were far too focused on making him lose his mind. You looked at him best you could in this position, and fit more of him in your mouth.

More, more, more.

His hand was caressing your hair before tugging on it, mindlessly trying to make you take more. 

Captain’s orders, huh?

From the sheer size of him, you didn’t know if it would be possible, but you just relaxed your throat as you took more of him. Almost deepthroathing, almost all of him. 

There was saliva everywhere, but neither you nor Shanks seemed to care. He was far gone, muscles contracting as you moved your head up and down a little, turning to the right and to the left simultaneously. 

Finally, his eyes met yours again. 

The sight was too much for him. He pulled your hair away from his cock and pulled you to him, kissing you with so much intensity your teeth hit his in one moment.

Your body was above his, and his one hand was everywhere. When he finally touched you between your legs, you separated the kiss to breathe. Just one touch and you were already melting in his hand. 

“Not gonna last?”, he murmured in your ear, continuing to move his fingers through your folds, teasing your clit and then moving away, not letting any part of him go inside of you just yet. Your moan was a mix of a cry and a prayer. Him, him, him, it was all you could think.

You rocked your hips against his hand, trying to get more. More of something, more of anything, you just needed him. 

Thankfully, Shanks was an experienced man and knew how to read a body. He lift himself, sitting against the headboard with you on top of him, both your hands holding his shoulders and legs on either side of his thighs. Your entrance was dangerously close to his cock, and you felt your pussy pulsing and your heart beating with anticipation, with want. 

“You’re sure?”, Shanks whispered, searching for your eyes. No hesitation would be found there.

“What would you do if I said no?”, you joked, taking his cock in one hand to pump it once, twice, three times. He was half laughing from your comment, half moaning from the pleasure. 

“Probably cry”, his words were playful, but his eyes were lustful, “and then jerk off”. 

It was your turn to laugh, but the amusement was short lived, because he took advantage of your distraction to line himself and thrust his hips upwards, finally entering you. 

A gasp from you. A grunt from him. You threw your head back as you lowered your hips slowly. It was a good thing you two had been flirting forever and the anticipation got you wetter than the entire freaking ocean, because your Captain had a big dick, and it was hard to take him.

Your cunt was pulsing, craving more of him. His hand rested on your hips, and he began moving and instructing you to move too. You tried rocking your hips, but it was too much. Your clit was right on his pelvis, and it was just too good. 

Noticing you were a goner, Shanks took matters into his own hands. He pulled your body down, chest flushed with his, and began thrusting upwards in a delicious speed, starting out slow and the building. You let out little whimpers close to his ears, and each time you did he seemed to go even deeper. 

You wanted nothing more than for this man to bury himself in you. 

It would have been amazing to just lay on top of him as he fucked you with the precision of a professional. But you wanted more. 

You lifted your torso, sitting on him. In doing so, both of you moaned loudly. For a second, you worried someone might hear. To Hell with them. There was only this moment, only this feeling. 

You began riding him as if your life depended on it. Back and forth, hips dancing on top of your lover. The sounds were a perfect soundtrack to the moment. 

You reached your hands from his chest, where they had been for support, to your own breasts, twitching your nipples and grabbing them to maximize the feeling. 

The man looked starstruck to see you chasing your high, pleasuring himself, on his body. His mouth fell open the more you moved. He pressed his feet on the bed, grating you more stability as his thighs were behind you. 

You let your hands fall behind you, to where his thighs were. The new angle was explosive. 

The release you both craved so much was magnified by how long you both waited for this, to finally touch and feel each other. Once more, you found yourself desperate to get more but wanting the moment to last. 

How does a moment last forever? You weren’t really sure, but when Shanks took advantage of the position to draw lazy circles on your clit, you were sure time stopped. 

There would be a before and an after this. 

No sound came out of your mouth as you surfed the waves of your orgasm. You didn’t even have time to let him know you were cumming, you just did. And it was a coreshaking, unbelievable feeling.

As your body trembled from the stimulation, Shanks lifted himself up, sitting more than laying down now. He hugged you, bringing your chest close to his face and seizing movement as you came down from your high. 

Both your hands held his hair, and you opened your eyes to meet his. 

You thought there’d be a before and an after because of the crazy orgasm, but you were wrong. The before and after would be from the look in his eyes. 

You had seen adoration there before. Mischief, anger, annoyance, amusement. What you now saw, as he slowly began to thrust his hips upwards, were the four little letters that made a word you rarely said. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he made you feel like the most beautiful woman alive. Not when he made you feel this good. 

“Stand up and bend over”, his tone left no room for discussion. 

“Ay ay, Captain”, you joked, sad to break contact but eager to see what was coming next. He scuffed and stood up too, going behind you and jokingly slapping your ass. 

You caught a glimpse of his dick when he stood, all pink and glistening with arousal. Your mouth watered. Perhaps you should’ve thought about protection, but, eh. Once again, who cares? Your mind was far too hazy for worry. 

His one hand touched your hips, forcing your face into the mattress and making your back arch even more. You turned your face, pressing your cheek on the soft blanket and putting both your knees on the bed, opening yourself up even more for him.

He stopped touching, and for a second, everything was quiet. Not even the ocean outside dared to make a sound.

When Shanks’ index finger moved gently through your entrance, collecting arousal, all the noise came back at once — the crashing of waves against the Red Force, his ragged breathing, something outside the room, your moans and whimpers. 

He seemed pleased with your reaction, collecting your juices and his on his fingers before pushing two of them in. This man’s goal might just be to kill you. You tried looking back further, to catch a glimpse of his face. 

He was so gorgeous it actually hurt. Sweat on his forehead, red hair falling on his forehead and eyes. Pecs so delicious it reminded you of a five course meal. His scars, his missing limp, all of it just made him more precious. 

Your eyes met when his fingers left your pussy, and, without a word, he lined himself and pushed. Even a few moments without his dick made it harder for him to enter you again. He murmured something along the lines of ‘so tight’ before he began thrusting again. 

Hips colliding against yours, time and time again. The force was almost brute, but you loved it. Was it possible to feel so passionate for a cock? Maybe, and if not, you were surely making the groundbreaking discovery that it was.

The position allowed him to go deeper, harder, and you both loved it. You were moaning, he was saying mumbled words affirming just how good you were for him.

“This cunt was made for me, love”, he said. “All mine”.

You shivered at the statement. Dear God, you felt the knot in your lower belly tightening again. 

Shanks’ thrusts were sloppier, uncoordinated and impossibly harder. You loved the intrusion, the aggression. For all you cared at that moment, he could just tie you to the bed and fuck you until you melted into a puddle.

You clenched around him, purposefully. At that, he reacted with the prettiest moan you’d ever heard. 

“Where do you want it?”, he asked and you loved that he did. 

“Inside”, your voice was shakier than you expected. “Please, inside”, you just didn’t want him to leave you. You wanted all of him in you.

He squeezed your hips, pushing you flush on the bed and laying on top of you. Having a two meters man with his full weight above you was hard, but even more so, it was fun and warm and dirty. His hips kept pistoling into you.

His mouth was pampering kisses on your ear, and you could feel and hear his breathing. 

He didn’t announce he was coming. Instead, he just thrusted so hard and so deep it made you let out a little scream. Ropes of white shot in you, and he kept moaning as his long release marked you as own. 

It was the perfect moment for a declaration, but you needed to stay in this bubble where nothing else other than you two existed. You needed to just feel his chest against your back and his softening dick inside. 

When he began moving to lay by your side, your hands flew behind you to keep him in place a little longer. “Stay”, you managed to say. “A little more, please”. 

He didn’t answer, instead, he just complied. He just kissed the side of your face, gentle and loving. 

A moment passed. Maybe two. It could have been years or seconds you stayed put beneath him, just feeling his body and his kisses. 

When he finally left your body, you whimpered. He laid by your side, stomach up whilst your chest was down. 

You were face to face, feeling each other's breath.

“Hi”, nonchalantly he said, a smile already growing. 

“Hey”, you were able to let out. You felt absolutely destroyed and ready for more. 

“Sleep here”, he begged, reaching for your hand. He pulled it to his lips and kissed it. Romantic. 

You nodded, moving towards him, curling up on his chest. His cum was dripping, probably making a mess on his sheets. At least they weren’t your sheets.

The air felt lighter, somehow. His chest was moving up and down beneath your head when you cuddled even more in him. 

The moonlight cast a pale light in the room. 

***

“My thighs hurt”, was the first thing you said when he woke up and opened those beautiful eyes. You were already awake for a few minutes, and you had more than enough time to go to his mirror and check out the red bite and hand marks on your bottom. 

Promptly, he guffewed. You took one of the many pillows on his bed to hit him with it. 

“Shut up! Everyone will hear!”

“I think that ship has sailed, darling”, with only one hand and laying on his back, he still managed to be dexterous. After taking it from your hands, he threw the pillow away, smiling. “I wasn’t the one screaming last night”.

“Oh, that could be anyone of your floozys”, you brushed him off, crossing your arms and pouting like a child. 

He played the offended part, gasping. If only there were pearls around his neck for him to clutch! You rolled your eyes, trying not to give him the satisfaction of a smile and failing miserably. 

He pulled you closer, bringing your chest to his back, cuddling. An Emperor, cuddling. You never thought you’d see the day, and yet, it felt so natural. You let him adjust himself behind you, and you felt his morning hard on deliciously on your back. 

His lips first met your shoulders, then your neck, and finally your ear. “You can be my floozy any time you want”, he whispered. The words themselves weren’t all that seductive, but the way he said it, morning voice raspy and the ghost of last night all over you… That was something else. 

A part of you wished you could be more mysterious and hold in your laugh. With Shanks, you just couldn’t. Your smile, your laughter, it all came naturally. He had that effect on you, apparently.

You weren’t one to share your dreams and ambitions that easily, but, with your Captain, it felt as simple as breathing.

You rolled your hips against his morning wood, teasing him. 

“Time for round two?”, he asked. His voice was all the stimulation you needed. 

You turned to meet his face and join your lips. 

“Out of how many?”, after a few pecs, you inquired. After all, a girl had a right to know if it was a one night and morning after thing, or more. 

“How many numbers are there?”

“Infinite, as far as I know”

“There’s your answer”, he barely finished saying the words before kissing you deeply. He moved over you, towering over you the best he could with only one arm.

It wasn’t long before you were a mess of moans and orgasms again. 

***

The morning came with an unbearable heat. You managed to sneak out of the Captain’s room and go to your chambers quietly, avoiding any prying gazes. Since he destroyed your clothing, you borrowed something of his. Now, out on the deck covered in sunlight going to the kitchen for a late breakfast, your tank top and shorts were soaked in sweat, and the entire crew was complaining when you joined them. 

“Somebody opened the gates of hell”.

“I haven’t felt this hot since I snuck into an oven as a kid”. 

You laughed as you reached for a muffin at the breakfast table. 

In more ways than one, you were immensely grateful this was your life. Grown men bitching about the weather and all. 

The door to the kitchen opened with little noise. If you weren't so deeply aware of Shanks’ presence at any given minute, you might have missed his quiet entrance. There were no good mornings, only a calm smile as he walked to the head of the table, passing through his trusted mates and yourself. 

What you didn’t expect — and probably no one did — was that the Captain would stop behind your chair, hand on your shoulder, and lean down to give you a kiss on the cheek. 

Intimate. Lovable. 

Public. 

Lucky Roux’s food fell from his fork. For a couple seconds, one could hear a pin drop. Perhaps they heard your heart too, almost beating out of your chest.

But then, as quickly as the silence came, it was gone. 

The clinking of silverware, chairs moving and footsteps around the room, the laughter from Yasopp as Benn pointed to Roux and said “you owe me one hundred berries”. Shanks simply moved with ease through the room.

Oh, you were going to find out what were the terms of this bet later. 

You looked over to where he sat at your side, at his usual place at the head of the table, and the look you were met with made your heart melt. You were sure by now your face was redder than his hair, but, to paraphrase your Captain, who the hell cares? 

Amidst the common chaos, he mouthed in silence three little words to you, reaching out to hold your hand. Eight letters, so simple, yet it was everything. Your heart stopped for a second and, time again, the entire world faded. There were only you two. In all the years you’d known him, there were only ever you two. You held him back, smiling and blushing upon his gaze. 

Then, you mouthed the words right back. 

[takamimami]

Omg omg, could I request “Your hand feels so much better than mine.” For Benn Beckman please? I just need more smut of him 🥺💜 thank you so much!! ✨😊

Hello, lovely. Firstly, I want to apologize for how LONG it took me to get to this request and thank you for your patience :3 I said this in a previous request too, but I didn't want to just force myself to write something I wouldn't be proud of, so I needed to wait to find some inspiration for this (on top of being heavily distracted by my other vices lately >.>)

Anyway, this is the first ever piece I've written for Benn, so I hope I did him justice for you!! <3

Benn Beckman x F!Reader - NSFW - “Your hand feels so much better than mine.” STORY UNDER THE CUT - MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 🔞 CW: SMUT; exhibitionism/public sex, sexual tension, benn's got a filthy mouth, fingering, benn calls you 'doll' and 'good girl' :3, shanks is a menace, why does the red force have trees on deck???, kinda cool but still ---word count 1.7k

Perched underneath one of the trees at the stern of the ship, you flipped through the pages of the newspaper you’d snagged from the vendor on the port town your crew had just left – noting the headline on the innermost page.  

‘Rockstar “Soul King” Joins Straw Hat Pirates – Claims Straw Hat Luffy Lives!’ 

You often found yourself in this same spot when you struggled to fall asleep, your brain running rampant and unrelenting to the exhaustion your body felt. 

“They’ll make anything a headline, these days,” a deep voice echoes over your shoulder, and you fight your initial reaction and do your best to appear unfazed at the frame that stops in front of you. 

Tonight had been the closest you’d come to giving into the game you and your vice-captain had been playing for weeks now. You knew he was giving you your space to sort through your feelings, but the sexual tension between the two of you only grew more intense the longer you tried to ignore it. 

You drop the newspaper down far enough to look up at the tall man, just in time to watch him lift his cigarette to his lips and pull a long drag from it. He lets the smoke flow slowly from his nostrils as he stares down at you, brow cocked as you hold his stare intently. 

“Soul King's not your style, Becks?” You muse, watching the smirk that curls up on his lips when you finally speak to him. 

“Didn’t say that,” he retorts, and you fold the newspaper in half to offer him your full attention. “I just think anyone who thought Straw Hat was dead could use a few extra brain cells.” 

You chuckle and stand from the spot you were leaning against the tree, shifting awkwardly as Benn takes a step toward you. 

“So, doll,” he drawls, “What’s got you awake this late?” 

The knowing smirk on his lips has a blush heating up your cheeks, mind racing back to the booth you two had been cozied up in at the tavern just last night. 

“Just... not tired,” you answer, keeping your words short in case your voice betrays you as you try to feign nonchalance. “You?” 

“Same,” he says flatly, flicking the butt of his cigarette into the dirt and stamping it out with his boot. “Can’t seem to stop thinking about this pretty little thing I was... chatting with tonight. She ran off on me and left me all by my lonesome.” 

Your blush only intensifies as he takes another step closer to you, chin dropping so he can crane over your smaller frame. 

“Starting to think she might be scared of me, or that she’s got someone else warming her bed.” 

You keep your eyes on his lips as he speaks, his voice dropping an octave and sending a surge of desire straight to your core. When he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip your eyes flick up to meet his, feeling his breath tickle your neck as he leans in closer. 

“I doubt it's either of those things,” you manage to form the words despite the tension threatening to consume both of you. “Maybe she just didn’t think you'd feel the same way about her.” 

Benn quirks his brow and you smirk as he offers one of his own, your shoulders relaxing slightly as he snakes a muscled arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. 

“Well, that’s a shame,” he muses, lips just an inch from yours as he speaks, “If she would have opened her eyes a little wider, she might have been able to see just how much I feel for her.” He growls out the last of his sentence and the sound snaps a cord in your mind, your brain unable to control your body as it presses further into him.  

You connect your lips to his and he welcomes the kiss, letting you feel some semblance of control over the situation as you nip and bite at his lips. When he parts them for you, your tongue presses into his mouth fervently, tangling with his own as he grips your hips and guides you back toward the tree you had been leaning against previously.  

Once your back presses against the wood, you feel Benn’s rough hands slide down and grab at the back of your knees, lifting you up towards his chest and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. You feel him growing hard under the pressure of your core against his, and you hiss into his mouth when he ruts his hips against you roughly, the movement full of need and desire as he takes command of the kiss. He pulls his lips from your mouth to pepper wet kisses along your jaw, slowly moving lower as he alternates between open-mouth kisses and gentle nips at your skin. 

A sound from the bow of the ship reminds you where you are, and how exposed the two of you are as you whip your head around, scanning the area for anyone who might be watching. 

“Everyone’s asleep, doll,” he groans against your neck, hips moving again between your legs and causing you to whimper under his touch. “No one’ll see.” 

His words do little to reassure you, so in order to pull your attention back to him, Benn reaches up and tugs at the hem of your top, pulling it down far enough to expose one of your breasts to him before dipping his head down and taking a nipple between his teeth teasingly. 

“Don’t know if I can wait any longer,” he growls, and again your mind melts as he sucks down on the sensitive bud in his mouth, his hand shifting to fumble with the button of your pants as you fist his grey hair. “I shouldn’t admit this, but... I came by your room earlier. Heard all those pretty sounds you were making.” 

Your eyes go wide at his admission, face flushing deeply as he tugs your pants down your legs. 

“Didn’t want to interrupt in case you weren’t alone, but now that I know that wasn’t the case... I gotta know,” his voice hitches as he traces the lace of your underwear, feeling the dampness of them as he strokes over your clothed cunt. 

“Were you thinking of me when you touched yourself, doll? Did you imagine they were my hands?” 

A nod is all you can manage as he tugs your underwear to the side, and a moan slips from your lips as he runs his fingers through your wet folds. 

“Good,” he croons, his face dipping down so that his mouth grazes your earlobe. “’Cause I’ve thought about having your tight cunt wrapped around my cock for ages. Thought about how good those pretty little hands would feel stroking me.” 

A sudden stretch has your eyes screwing shut and your head pressing back against the tree, his thick fingers curling against your walls as he presses two of them deep inside you. You bite your lip to keep quiet, but your moans still manage to slip through as Benn lifts his eyes from your soaking cunt. 

“That feel good, doll?” 

You nod and Benn presses his forehead against yours, commanding your attention as he continues his ministrations. 

“Huh-uh. Use your words.” 

You whimper at the command in his tone, eyes opening to look into his as he awaits your response. 

“Y-yes, Becks,” you whine, your eyes dropping to where he is touching you as another moan escapes you. “Your hands feel so much better than mine.” 

Benn’s eyes twitch and you grip his shoulders as he shifts to pull his erection from his pants, your eyes widening at the considerable size of him.  

“Hmm, I bet this will feel even better than, doll,” he growls as he pulls his fingers from you, using the same hand to stroke himself and lubricate his shaft with your arousal. 

After a few tantalizingly long moments he shifts you higher into his grasp, lining himself up at your entrance and pressing into you slowly as you feel all the air leave your lungs. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he hisses, and you dig your nails into his shoulders as he presses into your fully, giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch of him. 

When he starts moving again your mouth falls open, the drag of his cock along your walls pulling obscene sounds from you and your cunt as he quickens his pace. Your whole body hitches from the power of his thrusts, your back scraping against the bark of the tree with each movement.  

“You like that, doll?” He growls into your neck, sinking his teeth into your neck gently as he tries to muffle the sounds of his own moans. “You gonna sing me a pretty song while you come on my cock?” 

You manage to gasp out a feeble “Yes” as Benn brings his calloused finger to your clit, thumbing gentle circles around it as you feel yourself tighten around him. Unable to contain it any longer, you let your mouth fall open as his name falls from your lips, the pitch in your voice signaling your end as your body begins to shake with pleasure. 

“Good girl,” he croons in your ear, keeping his thrusts precise and sharp as he fucks you through your orgasm.  

Your voice breaks as your mouth goes dry, your labored breathing causing your chest to rise and fall against Benn's as his hips slowly come to a halt. He holds you close, letting his cloak fall over your exposed body. 

“D-did you...” 

“Good Gods, Beck!” You hear a familiar voice call out from the nearby staircase. “When I said ‘by any means necessary’, this is NOT what I had in mind.” 

Your body goes still as you feel all the color drain from your face, blood running cold as you realize that it is the voice of your captain. 

Benn, seemingly unfazed, simply holds you closer to him as he flips Shanks a middle finger, and much to your relief the sounds of laughing and footsteps grow further away as he pulls your pants back up your legs for you. 

“Don’t worry, doll,” he smirks mischievously, tugging you into his arms again and carrying you toward his quarters. “I’m not done with you, yet.” 

✨come say hai :3✨

[chibinasuu]

if you haven't gotten too many requests could you do one bed trope with law?

hi anon! sorry this took so long – work and life has been busy for me lately – but i hope you enjoy this story!

i'm also aware that october is long gone lmao but i'm still going to slowly write the requests that i've received for flufftober and hopefully post it throughout the cozy/winter/holiday season. just be patient with me please <3

flufftober ⟢ only one bed || law x reader

“Don't be a stubborn ass and get in here, Captain." You glared in his general direction and added, "Or should I say, Husband?"

Trafalgar Law only huffed from where he was lying on the bare tatami floors, a few meters away from your warm and cozy futon.

Being undercover as a married couple was not what you expected when your Captain chose you as one of the few crew members he brought ashore to Wano. Still, Kin'emon had a point when he said that a stranger like Law would likely draw more attention if he were strutting along the Flower Capital by himself, not to mention digging for information. 

Which led you here — on a "honeymoon" with your new "husband" and trying to get him to sleep with you. Literally. 

"Admit it, you're cold."

"I'm not."

"It's freezing tonight, Law, and I know you don't like being cold."

The rare sound of his first name coming out of your mouth made the doctor twitch, his heart traitorously skipping a beat.

"I'm fine." He sputtered. "Just sleep."

Sighing, you stared at the crisscrossing wooden beams lining the ceiling. The stillness of the night left much room for overthinking, and before you could stop yourself, the words rolled off your tongue and into the darkness. "Do you really hate the idea of sleeping in the same bed with me that much?" 

"What?" Law propped himself up on his elbow, finally turning to face you for the first time since the lights went out, "No, don't be ridiculous. It's not like that."

"Then why won't you just share the blanket?"

Another sigh left your lips at the Captain’s stubborn silence.

"Fine, have it your way." You turned to your side, your back to Law, and wrapped the blanket tighter around you.

You were halfway to drifting off when a hushed whisper brought you back to awakeness.

"It's not that I don't want to share the bed with you. It's just..." Law cursed under his breath. Voice low, he hesitantly admitted, "I don't want to take advantage of the situation. It would be selfish of me. And unfair to you."

"Take advantage of the situation? What's that supposed to mean?" You chuckled awkwardly, not quite processing his words amid your drowsiness, "It's not as if you were dying to get in my…"

You bolted upright, glancing at your Captain who was refusing to even look at your direction.

"Oh."

Again, Law chose to stay quiet, but the hand that instinctively covered his face betrayed his feelings. You were sure that a beautiful shade of red was tinting his cheeks, despite it not being noticeable in the dimness of the room.

A slow smile started forming on your face, accompanied by the quickening beat of your heart. 

"Well,” You mused at last. “What makes you think it's not me who's taking advantage of the situation, hmm?" 

He sighed out your name softly, "Don't joke about this."

"I'm not!" You said resolutely, before blurting out, "I do want you in my bed, Law."

A second passed. Then two.

"Wait!” You squealed, “That came out wrong! I didn't mean it like that, I just—"

The tension all but melted when Law let out a laugh — full and boisterous, but shaky with nerves. You groaned and laid back down, pulling the blanket all the way up to bury yourself in shame.

Fabric shuffled against the tightly woven straw of the floorings, and suddenly, you felt him gently take the edge of the blanket away from your fingers.

He peeked inside, smiling softly, "Is it okay if we share the futon?"

"Yeah," you squeaked, your voice an octave higher than usual.

Carefully, Law slipped underneath the blanket. He tried to keep a respectful distance, but the futon didn’t have much room to begin with. Shoulders touching, you laid side by side, albeit rather stiffly. The warmth of his body next to you was almost too much for your poor heart to handle, and you feared that Law could hear the thunderous drumming coming from your chest.

"Good night."

"Good night, Captain."

Heart pounding, face burning, and much too aware of the other's presence, it was safe to say that neither of you had a good rest.

You both had to admit, however, that it was indeed a good night. 

⟢ chibinasuu's flufftober – event page || masterlist

⟢ main masterlist

[angelwilds]

Just remembered that Leona is basically a huge cat boy...

If you've ever owned a cat, you'll know that a big part of their love language involves grooming their loved ones. So yeah, Leona is going to wordlessly lick you when he thinks you're stinky and braid your hair when you ask him to. He takes excellent care of his own hair, so he has some hair oils and shampoos that he could lend to you, but he'll still insist on doing your hair for you.

Leona also expects you to groom him in return, otherwise he would feel offended. He spent all that time fixing your hair, and you won't even brush his in return? Very much like a demanding cat. How ungrateful.

Also another part of cat love language: sleeping together. He gets really cozy and comfortable when you're in his arms after a really long day. He might grumble about it at first, but his tail will curl around your waist and pull you close when you move away. Where are you going? Stay put, herbivore. He didn't say you could leave.

Leona likes laying his head on your chest, because hearing the soothing rhythm of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep pretty quickly. He's rather heavy, so good luck getting him off of you once he's snoring away.

Leona especially likes being nuzzled and scratched around his neck. It just feels nice. You smell nice. You might even catch him purring when he's unguarded, that low humming sound of contentment reverberating throughout the room. He'll stop once he wakes up and scowl at you for pointing it out, though. Stop asking so many questions, herbivore.

[alwayssassydreamer]

Let The Old Man Show You

A/N: thanks Ann for the request " beckman x younger f reader nsfw? He met reader at a bar and flirted with her, she wasn't sure for the age gap but later give in" I am so sorry it took so long I swear I thought I had already posted it but guess I was wrong 🙈

Plot: like the request says, you sitting at a bar and Beckman showing up, a man twice your age but nonetheless captivating

Warnings: nsfw, oral, p in v, fingering, age gap Reader being a bit cocky, I feel like Beck got a little OOC MDNI ⚠️🔞

Characters: Beckman x FReader

The bar smelled of rum, sweat and humidity, loud with pirates boasting about their latest spoils and women's laughter. You had meant only to have a quiet drink before heading back to your inn, but the man who approached your table wasn’t exactly ignorable.

Tall, broad abd handsome, in a way only dangerous men past their prime seem to be. That confident, calm smirk. The cigarette dangling from his lips.

“You look a little young to be drinking alone in a place like this,” he mused his voice was rough, low enough to vibrate somewhere beneath your ribs.

You gave him a wary glance. “You look a little old to be flirting with girls my age,” you countered.

He laughed at that. Not offended, not surprised. “Fair. Still — here I am.”

“Yeah, you should feel honored that I’m doing you the favor of entertaining an old man like you,” you said cockily.

“Is that right?” He asked with a smirk, leaning in slowly, letting his hand skate up your thigh beneath the table, just his knuckles, just enough pressure to make you catch your breath again. “Then why’re you shaking under my hand doll?”

“I'm not shaking you're just invading my private space,” you said hating that your voice sounded less confident than you wanted it to be.

“Invading your private space?” he repeated smugly. “Then why haven't you pushed me away yet?” He asked one finger, just the tip of it, skimming over your thigh barely touching but still igniting your skin.

“I can’t push you away, wouldn’t want an old man like you to break a hip if I did” you muttered trying to keep him from seeing how much this tiny, barely there touch was already getting to you.  

He let out a low chuckle. “Is that what you tell yourself doll? Do you even hear what you say? Because it doesn’t sound very convincing to me” he teased fingertip suddenly replaced by his whole hand squeezing your thigh making you jolt from the sudden firmness.  

“Damn.” He chuckled “Me invading your space seems to be something you don't hate as much as you try to convince me.....or yourself. Is it these old man’s hands that get to you or the thought of having fun with someone older and more.... experienced?” he asked leaning closer hot breath burning against your ear and causing a shiver to run down your spine.  

“Come on sweetheart, I can see you being curious about what it feels like with a man who has more experience than all your former lovers combined.”  

You looked at him and that tiny smirk tugging at his lips, those dark eyes staring at you like they saw straight into your soul and that damn heat that seemed to radiate from him only to ignite every fibre in your body, was definitely raising your curiosity.  

Of course, you wondered what it would feel like to have a man like him, someone tall, broad, handsome, confident and in a strange way mysterious.  

But damn he was twice your age, you shouldn’t mingle with someone who had already lived half his life. Especially not someone like him who probably charmed every woman in every bar he entered.  

You glared at him, half-heartedly if you were being honest, and he just smirked at you, taking a slow drag from his cigarette like he already knew he had won before you did..... 

“You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?” Beckman’s voice was a warm rasp against your ear as his hand slid up your thigh, fingers tracing lazy patterns along your skin. 

You had ended up in his room after all, after too many teasing glances, too many slow smiles, too many burning touches and soft-spoken words that had unraveled your hesitation like a pulled thread. 

“You sure about this? Wouldn't want you to get a heart attack, old man,” you said sounding as confident as you could, pretending that this was the most normal thing ever. Deep down though, your heart was betraying you, it was racing a mile per an hour.  

Beckman just chuckled, as he pressed you down onto the creaky mattress of his room. His rough fingertips traced up your bare thighs, pushing your skirt higher as he settled between them with a lazy grin. 

“My heart is the least thing you should worry about young lady.” 

You swallowed hard, watching the way he looked at you like a man savoring something rare, something he wasn’t planning to rush. The age difference felt less important now, dwarfed by how much he seemed to enjoy having you laid out under him, skin bared inch by inch to his slow, knowing hands.  

“I shouldn’t,” you breathed, though your legs were already spreading beneath his touch, hips tilting to invite him closer. “You’re— too old for me.” 

That earned a low, wicked chuckle. “Is that what’s got you this wet?” He slipped two fingers over the damp stain on your panties, slow enough to make you whimper. “Or are you just trying to convince yourself you’re not already mine tonight?” 

“You’re old,” you murmured, breath catching as his thumbs pressed into the soft flesh at the crease of your thighs. “Shouldn’t you be—” 

“What?” Beckman interrupted, grin widening. “Entertain women my age because I’m too old to have my mouth between your legs?” 

Before you could stammer an answer, he ducked down, mouthing over the inside of your thigh, slow and indulgent like he had all fucking night to break you apart. 

“Age is just a number sweetheart. Why shouldn't I settle for someone as lovely as you just because there’s a few numbers between us?” His breath was hot against your skin. “In fact, you’re lucky you caught the attention of an old bastard like me. I know how to take my time all while making it worth your while, young lady.” 

And he did. His mouth found you over your panties first, tongue dragging slow over the damp spot already forming there. You arched with a soft gasp, only for him to pin your hips easily with one heavy hand, keeping you still as he teased you through the thin fabric. 

“Sensitive already,” he murmured. “Didn’t even touch you properly yet.” 

His teeth grazed the edge of your panties, pulling them down with infuriating slowness before finally tossing them aside. His eyes stayed locked on yours as he licked a broad, deliberate stripe up your slit, groaning low in approval at how wet you already were. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste too sweet to leave you alone and not invade your ‘private space’,” he teased. 

The first proper pass of his tongue over your clit nearly made you jolt off the bed, but his hand kept you pinned, fingers splayed wide over your stomach and hips like he owned you, which in that moment he probably did. 

His mouth worked slow at first, dragging long, lazy strokes through your folds while his stubble scraped faintly and deliciously along your skin. 

“You ever had a man eat you like this before?” he asked smug as sin between licks. When you couldn’t answer, too busy biting your lip, fighting to keep quiet, he chuckled darkly against you and doubled down. “Didn’t think so.” 

His tongue circled your clit with aching precision, teasing light then heavy, slow then fast, dragging you closer with maddening patience. “All that attitude in the bar, but look how easy you open up for me.” Two fingers slipped inside you without warning, curling just right to find that sweet spot deep inside. 

“C’mon, young lady. Don’t hold back on me now, you were so mouthy before.” His voice was rough, low, half-growl against your swollen cunt. “Let me hear how good this old man’s making you feel.” 

You couldn’t hold back, not when he sucked your clit between his lips, not when his fingers pumped deep and slow, not when his mouth dragged you over the edge with practiced, merciless ease. 

“Oh fuck — d-don't stop — it f-feels — fuck” you stammered a moan slipping between your lips followed by another and then another until the dam broke and you couldn't stay quiet any longer.

“Hng — g-gonna — aaah — fuck — gonna c-cum,” you screamed.

You came with a loud, broken cry, thighs trembling around his head, hips bucking against the slow drag of his tongue lapping you through the aftershocks. 

Beckman didn’t move until you went limp beneath him, breathless and flushed. Only then did he sit back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking like the bastard he was. 

“Told you,” he drawled, palming himself through his pants now, voice thick with heat as he undid the belt. “age is just a number and believe me sometimes older’s better young lady.” 

His cock pressed heavy against your entrance as he leaned over you again, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, his grin lazy and wicked. 

“Now,” Beckman murmured, kissing your throat, “let’s see how well you can take the rest of me.” 

You were still catching your breath when Beckman’s cock nudged against your slick entrance, his hand tightening over your wrists where he held them pinned above your head. His hips rolled, slow and deliberate, dragging the swollen head of his cock through the mess he had already made of you with his mouth. 

“Still think you’re too young for this? With me?” he teased, voice rough with restraint. “’Cause from where I’m sittin’—” another slow, lazy push that had you arching for more, “—your body’s telling me a whole different story. It’s clenching very tightly around me like it doesn’t want to let go of me.” 

God was he right. You were clenching around him so hard, you wanted him even deeper, faster. “See?” Beckman’s voice was a lazy drawl against your ear, hips rolling deep enough to make your breath hitch. “Fits me just fine. Guess the age gap isn’t so bad after all.”  

You whimpered, thighs trembling around his hips, trying to rock up against him for friction which only made his smile deepen. 

“Greedy little thing,” Beckman chuckled. “Relax. I’m gonna give you what you want.” 

He pressed in slow, thick inch by inch, stretching you open until your breath caught sharp in your throat. Beckman groaned low against your skin, mouthing at your neck, your jaw, as he finally bottomed out. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, grinding deep. “Tight as hell. Pretty little cunt wasn’t made for boys, it was made for men, wasn’t it?” 

You nodded your head without thinking, dizzy with the feeling of being so full, so owned. His words, his slow stretch inside you, his hands on you, it all left you raw and aching. 

“That’s right,” he said, voice dipping lower, hips pulling back just enough to drive in deep, slow and deliberatly again. “You need a man who knows how to take his time with you. A man who knows how to fuck you right.” 

His rhythm stayed steady at first, long, deep strokes that made you squirm and gasp beneath him. Every roll of his hips dragged friction right where you needed it, his cock hitting so deep you saw stars when he ground against you just right. 

“You hear that?” Beckman’s lips brushed your ear as, his breath hot and smug. “That slick little sound? That’s you. That’s how much you want this.” 

You couldn’t answer not when he shifted your legs, placing them over his shoulder to dive deeper and picked up the pace, not when his hand tightened just a little more over your wrists to keep you right where he wanted you. 

“You’re lucky I’ve got patience.” His teeth grazed your neck, biting down just enough to make you whimper. “Lucky I like you like this, squirming under me, begging without even realizing it. Lucky I found you at the bar tonight.” 

His free hand slid between your bodies, thumb finding your clit with infuriating precision. The combined rhythm of his thrusts and his fingers dragged you up fast, your body already oversensitive from how he’d worked you over with his mouth. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. Give me one more.” His grin widened as your breath hitched, your hips stuttered. “Let me feel you come all over my cock. Then we’ll see if you’re still worried about my age.” 

“Don't — d-don't care — age — just — haaa” you cried out as a few more thrusts, a few more lazy circles of his thumb, and broke you again beneath him, gasping back arching into him. Beckman groaned as you clenched around him, fucking you through it slow and deep, drawing out every last tremor with that practiced, unbearable patience. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he grunted, finally chasing his own release in long, rough thrusts “Knew it for the first time I saw you that you'd feel perfect. Took me three bars to see you again,” he groaned until he spilled deep inside, hips grinding down like he couldn’t get close enough. 

He didn’t pull out right away, just let his weight settle, breath warm against your neck as he caught it, cock still nestled deep where he had just finished before he slowly began gently and carefully easing your legs off his shoulders with one hand.

“You’re gonna sleep real fuckin’ good tonight,” he murmured, nipping your jaw before finally loosening his grip on your wrists, stroking soft circles over the skin there. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll let you ride me. See if you can keep up with an old man then. If your heart can take it that is.” he teased referring to your own mocking words from before.  

You let out something between a laugh and a groan. “You’re a jerk.” 

Beckman just smirked, lazy and satisfied. “And you’re not leaving this bed anytime soon. So get comfortable.” 

“What did you mean? You said you it took you three bars to see me again” you asked looking deep into his eyes, your body feeling totally exhausted in the best way possible.

“I mean I saw you at the bar on the other side of the island 5 days ago. You caught my eye young lady. Needed to see you again,” he explained and your breath hitched, you didn't see him back then because you would have remembered a man like him.

“Stop overthinking it so much doll, you caught my eye and once someone does that, I ain't letting them go so easily” he chuckled into your ear giving your earlobe a tiny bite.

You barely had time to process what he had just said, nor the sudden heat that rushed through you from the tug at your earlobe, before Beckman’s hands were on you again. Rougher this time one hand gripping your jaw, turning your face toward him for a lazy, cocky kiss that tasted of smoke and sin. 

“What’s the matter?” he murmured against your lips. “Thought you were done? Told you, you had caught my eye,” he said smugly as he looked you up and down smirking at your wasted form. “And you were questioning my stamina, what happened to all that talk from before? You’re the one who let me take you to bed, sweetheart. Should’ve known I wasn’t gonna stop so soon.” 

His hand slid between your thighs again, spreading you open, fingertips finding the mess he had left inside you. He didn’t rush just traced slow, humiliating circles through your slick folds, watching your face with that same half-lidded, amused look. 

“Still so fuckin’ wet for me,” Beckman drawled. “You’re lucky I’m not twenty anymore because I’d ruin you worse than this.”  

He pushed two fingers inside, groaning low when your walls fluttered weakly around him. “Tight, even after all that. Guess I’ve gotta stretch you out all over again.” 

You whimpered, hips twitching up into his hand, chasing friction without shame now making him laugh low, rough, entirely pleased with himself. 

“Thought you didn’t want an old man like me and now you’re gettin’ needy on me. That’s cute.” 

Before you could bite back a reply, he pulled his fingers free, gripping your hips and flipping you onto your stomach with almost insulting ease. 

“Hands on the sheets and ass up. Stay like this.” His tone left no room for argument. You obeyed without thinking, breath catching as his palm smoothed down the curve of your ass, then delivered a sharp slap that made you gasp. 

“Good girl,” Beckman rumbled, positioning himself behind you, cock already hard again and sliding through your soaked folds.  

The first thrust was rough, deep and fast, stretching you wide without warning. You cried out, but he only groaned, rolling his hips deeper until he was flush against you again. 

“That’s it,” he rasped, leaning over you, teeth scraping your shoulder. “Take it. Take all of it. You can handle me now.” 

This time there was no slow build. Beckman fucked you like he owned you, like he was staking his claim deep where no one else would ever reach. His grip bruised on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock with each brutal snap of his hips. 

“You wanted it rougher, didn’t you?” His voice was a growl now, all heat and filthy satisfaction. “Wanted to see what an old man like me could really do?” 

Your only answer was a broken moan, your body trembling beneath his. He fucked you harder for it, chasing the slap of skin on skin, the wet, obscene sound of how ready you were for him again already. 

“Look at you, still so fuckin’ greedy for it.” He reached around, fingers circling your clit in sharp, practiced motions. “Just one more young lady. Show me you weren't just talking big.” 

You couldn’t hold it back not with how deep he was, not with the relentless pace of his fingers. You shattered around him again, crying out his name like you couldn’t help it, thighs shaking, nails clawing uselessly at the sheets. 

Beckman groaned deep in his chest, fucking you through it with rough, punishing thrusts until he chased his own release again, burying himself deep and grinding down as he spilled inside you a second time. 

“Fuck—” he bit out, slowing finally, hand smoothing down your spine. “That’s it, young lady. That’s fuckin’ it.” He stayed like that for a moment, catching his breath, his hand stroking lazy circles over your hips like he wasn’t the reason you couldn’t move. 

“You’re not gonna forget me anytime soon, are you?” His voice was softer now, smug but fond as he kissed the back of your neck. 

“No,” you managed, hoarse and wrecked. “You made sure of that.” 

Beckman just chuckled. “Good.” 

The room smelled like sex and smoke when you finally felt him shift behind you, pulling out slow with a soft groan under his breath. His big hands smoothed over your hips, your thighs, not squeezing now just touching, steady and warm like he was reminding himself you were still here, making sure to soothe your skin.

“You alright?” he asked, voice lower, softer than before. “Didn’t break you, did I?” 

“N-no, you didn't but.....fuck that was insane for an old man,” you mumbled with a small weak smirk. Beckman huffed a laugh, leaned down and pressed a kiss to your shoulder not teasing now. Just there.  

“Told you sometimes older's better.” 

He rose from the bed, rummaged around naked for his pack of smokes. Your eyes were tracing his silhouette, taking in how well built he was, following every scar on his skin and staring at every twitch his muscles made.

When he came back, he brought a damp cloth with him, cleaning you up with slow, careful hands. No jokes, no smug comments just patience and tenderness. Just Beckman being quiet in that way that meant he was thinking too much and didn’t feel like saying it out loud. 

You kept your gaze fixed on him as he moved all over your skin with a carefulness that almost surprised you. The warmth and softness of the cloth feeling good on your overstimulated skin. You watched how his eyes followed the cloth and realized the way he looked at you wasn't just pure lust right now, no it seemed more fragile, more tender and you relaxed fully into the sheets exhaling deeply.

He smirked up at you, finishing cleaning you up and kissing your forehead softly before he put the cloth aside.

When he finally lit his cigarette, he offered it to you first, two fingers holding it steady near your lips. “Go on. You earned it.” 

You took a slow drag, letting the burn settle something in your chest, and watched as he sat back against the headboard, smoke curling lazy around his scarred temple. 

“You are really something else,” Beckman said, but it was fond now, not teasing. “And all mine.” 

He pulled the cigarette from your mouth, took a drag himself and puffed out the smoke, then leaned in to kiss you again, slow, deep, tasting of smoke and heat and something sweeter under it all. 

“You still worried about that age gap?” he asked against your lips. 

You gave him a look, half-exhausted, half-amused. “Not really thinking about it right now.” 

“Good.” His grin crooked up. “You shouldn’t. I’ve got twenty years on you, but that just means I know how to take care of things I like.” 

His hand slid down to your thigh, stroking slow circles again. Not trying to start anything more, just grounding you, keeping you close and also reminding him that you were still here. 

“You are okay, aren’t you?” Beckman’s voice dropped softer again, serious beneath the smoke and smirk, making sure that you were really fine. “I didn’t push too hard?” 

You shook your head. “No. I’m… really, really okay.” 

He looked at you for a long moment, like he was weighing that answer against your body, against the way you were curled up boneless beside him, against the soft marks he had left on your skin. Whatever he saw, it satisfied him. 

“Good.” Another kiss, softer still, pressed to your forehead this time. “I don’t break what it want. I take care of it.” 

You laughed, quiet, as he passed you the cigarette again. “That supposed to make me feel special?” 

Beckman smiled warm and real this time. “It should,” he said. “Because you fuckin’ are.” 

Taglist: @jintaka-hane @fleetadmiralsoffice @hakiofdreams @welcome-to-the-grandline @sailing-to-laugh-tale @legends-of-the-grandline @devilfruitdiaries @waannty (once again I'm just reminding you that if you want me to stop tagging you please tell me, I'm not mad about it because I honestly feel really annoying tagging y'all every time or if someone wants to get added)

[skeletalenvoyenchanter]

Don't Be Kind to Me

SHANKS EDITION

“…Shanks.”

“Oh! I didn’t see you, love. Hello!”

What a pitiful excuse of a lie. He’d been standing in front of a mirror, even if your red-haired captain didn’t have constant access to superhuman observational skills, his eyes could have met yours at any moment.

Shanks just chose to ignore you, letting you watch him as you casually leaned against his door frame. He reckoned that you’d already forgotten why you were there in the first place, too entranced by his strange behaviour that only you caught glimpses of from time to time. For someone so open-minded and outgoing, Shanks kept his cards close to his chest and protected them with his life. Not out of shame – he didn’t fear irreparable harm to his image and persona, not at all, but he was so troubled by the weight of his own life that the doom and gloom of every seemingly normal day just got to him sometimes... Maybe that’s why you kept tabs on him whenever he hasn’t been able to satisfy that fun-loving daredevil side of his for a long period of time; when you were all stuck at sea and forced to eat stew seven times a week out of necessity rather than pleasure and Shanks couldn’t even get enthusiastic about mindless drinking and partying anymore, you just naturally found yourself standing basically right next to him.

At this point, Shanks couldn’t decode whether this was just something you did for everybody as evidenced by your selfless dedication to every crew member’s well-being… or whether you felt the same pull towards him as he did to you.

Fascinating, that mind of yours. But he dearly wished it was the latter.

“…Don’t kid yourself, Captain. You probably sensed me before I even stood in your doorstep. You wanna… talk about it?”

…Right. Or maybe Shanks just deluded himself into being doted on like that for no reason other than the fact that he liked the idea of having you all to himself. Still, that fascinating, fascinating mind of yours was a bit of a problem right now. You’d often used your quick thinking to rip your enemies’ plans apart, but you can be quite the unstoppable force when you use those skills against your dear captain.

It was all made worse by the fact that you weren’t exactly off in your silent assumptions. Just like how he knew you were approaching when he couldn’t see you yet, you knew that something wasn’t quite right as soon as you saw him.

The depressingly misery he he donned in private right now was certainly an uncanny match-up when attached to the name of the Red-Haired Shanks.

To most others, he must have looked quite the same. His hair was stylishly tousled, effortlessly handsome without even trying. Those deep eyes of his were just as strong as ever. Really, you shouldn’t have perceived anything unusual.

And yet, and yet… you noticed. Of course you did. You saw him.

“Talk about what?”

“…Kay. I’ll take that as a resounding ‘no’, then.”, you sighed.

Shanks could only chuckle in response. Yeah, as if you’d ever let him have this one. Once you smelled that something was awry with your captain, you’d pursue it no matter what. Even if Shanks didn’t like it. Especially if he didn’t like it.

You walked up to him, watching Shanks stand in front of his full-body mirror as he was getting dressed. His loose pair of trousers sat lopsidedly low on his hips, his white linen shirt had yet to be buttoned and he was completely barefoot. If he didn’t seem so lost in thought, you would have assumed that he was out-of-his mind drunk and couldn’t remember where or who he was, that’s for sure.

But you did see it, way before you even walked up to him.

Shanks watched as your eyes darted to his missing arm. Well, the light fabric that was in place of it, wrinkled and slightly stained. Like the majority of his shirts, the left sleeve had been tied into a knot to protect the end of his stump. His long sleeves were, thus, always mismatched.

See, that’s the thing.

People usually didn’t even see that he wrapped his left sleeve around itself in a loop, tying it tightly and securely, because he wore his signature cape all the time. It usually covered his entire left shoulder, fully concealing what’s beneath – or precisely what is not there – that black cape at all cost.

Said piece of clothing was thrown across his bed, mocking his reflection in the mirror as his eyes caught sight of it again, choosing to ignore your nearing form.

You stood next to him, looking right into your mirror image as well. Shanks would have loved to know what went through your head at that moment. Knowing you, it was probably deeply profound. Heh.

How cute that you kept worrying about a man like him. You were subtle, but it was still endearing. You followed him around like he was worth it, and his eyes, in return, trailed your form everywhere you went.

“Do you ever regret it?”

“Hm?” Shanks could only mutter a vague sound that didn’t mean anything to either of you.

He pretended he didn’t know what you were talking about just so he could cease talking about it. You just kept digging, though. Every time. Just like you always did, you sought him out to, as you claim repeatedly, ‘get it through his thick skull that there are people who’ll listen’… Well, yeah, but your captain also wanted to look… cool in front of you, for a lack of a better word.

“Losing an arm. Everybody knows, but you still cannot go anywhere without that stupid cape.” “Stupid cape you say, eh?”, he chuckled, shaking his head, bronze red eyes downcast, “Thought it makes me mysterious.”

“Dodging questions now?”, you grinned, knowing that he’d take the bait immediately – hook, line and sinker, “Those are not the actions of the man I chose to serve…”

Oh you damn minx. Why in the world did he decide to recruit you? You were exhilarating, but oh so dangerous. He was but a clueless sailor following your siren song.

As soon as Shanks laid eyes on you, he knew that you’d be his undoing – and he’s been right about that, even if neither of you spoke about the nameless connection you two shared. Both of you just went about your lives as if nothing ever happened, but your captain was aware that he was in deep trouble. How could he ever talk to random women with you watching him flirt away inside a tavern? How could he take anyone to bed knowing that you’d find out, living so close to his private quarters? He’d given into his carnal desires only a handful of times after meeting you since he is a weak, weak man who understands that he will never be with you, but he regretted it every time. He doubted that you were the type to care about things like that.

After all, you probably weren’t even in love with him, even if you haunted his every thought. He just mistook your kindness for affection.

…But if Shanks just thought about you pulling the same stunts as he did – God, it was so hypocritical, so wrong, but he’d actually go properly insane if you ever showed any interest in the men who flirted with you. The captain of the Red Force was filled with relief every single time you shooed curious onlookers and bold strangers away from you, preferring to stay with your crew and make lasting memories instead. Those strangers only saw you for your beauty and while he would have to commend their taste, they couldn’t ever love you like he did.

They all wanted you for a moment, but Shanks wanted you for life.

And words like that – you didn’t know how dangerous they were.

The man you chose to serve?

Don’t get his hopes up, love. He might just get burnt.

He sighed heavily.

He will never escape you for all you have to do to render this Emperor of the Sea defenceless is bat your pretty eyes, offer him a fraction of your attention and flash him one of those smiles that make his heart race uncontrollably.

“I don’t regret it. I would do it again if I had to… It’s just… If I’d just handled things a little better, maybe used a bit more –“

You interrupted him by touching his left shoulder. That’s all it took to shut him up and stop his train of thought right in its tracks. Shanks’ eyes met yours – your real eyes, not that of your reflection – and he swallowed thickly.

His Adam's apple bopped in protest since his throat felt much drier than it did just seconds ago. He was so eager to listen to your thoughts…

Certainly not only because your opinion was valuable as a member of his crew, and not just since you always made sense of any situation with your brilliant mind and deduction skills, no… mainly because Shanks just needed to hear what you thought about anything, really.

He remembered it all – from childhood anecdotes you shared in passing without a second thought down to the tiny details like which temperature you preferred.

“You acted without thinking, so you would have lost a part of yourself either way. It was the right thing to do. That’s the man I chose to serve – that reckless man who helps everyone.”

You gaze, it was so–

–angelic.

That’s the only way he could describe it somewhat accurately. You looked at your captain like he was your lifeline and all you’ve ever been waiting for. That’s why you had the prettiest eyes in the whole world; many people in this world revered Shanks for his sheer power or, if they were lucky, they could admire his attractive features up close – and don’t get him wrong, he loved the attention, but it wasn’t real. As generous and flattering as it all was, none of it was authentic. Everybody saw him for who he appeared to be from the outside looking in, but you actually squeezed his heart with your actions. Your loyalty towards him was unwavering. He trusted you blind but would never say so openly, thinking that it might offend some of his men who’d been with him since the start of his solo adventure.

Shanks suspected that his most trusted confidants knew regardless, though. They were nosy like that. Not like he’d be any different if the roles were reversed…

“W-well!”, he coughed into his closed fist, briefly breaking eye contact with you, “Maybe, but almost letting a Sea King kill me and an innocent child? How pathetic.”

Your hues glazed over in pensiveness, the natural colour of your iris partially hidden by your eyelids. You blinked repeatedly before you lowered your head, now focused on his naked chest instead. Yet before Shanks could joke around to make light of the sombre mood, you suddenly fell forward and landed right in his arms. Well, arm.

You buried your face right above his left collarbone and he could very much feel how your lashes tickled his bare flesh with every blink of your eyes. The feeling that really got to him, however, was how your hand dug into his waist just below the arm that was no more, almost cuddling him, while your left arm dragged him into a side hug he reciprocated instantaneously. If Shanks concentrated hard enough, he could smell your fading perfume and the hypnotic rumble within your chest as you quietly hummed against him. Those vibrations sent tingly shock waves through his heart.

You were always there, always.

It was so easy to imagine that you were here because you loved him just as much, because you just had to keep him close to you – you were just as attached as he was. Your bond didn’t need to be expressed in words, you, despite the horrible job he was doing, understood him and gave him what he needed.

Seeing him struggle was painful because you adored him so much, you couldn’t bear the thought of letting him suffer in silence, which is why every drop of affection was lapped up by him as if he were a man dying of thirst.

“Shanks…”, you started, lifting your head just enough for your lips to hover above his sun-kissed skin, “That missing limb is not a testament of your failure. You’re only human, making mistakes is part of that. So what, you didn’t use your Haki sooner? You almost bled out in the open sea for your friend, for a little boy whose life could run its course because of you. You chose his life over your own in that moment – that’s what counts to me. And I’ll be here to tell you the same thing over and over again because you mean so much to m–”

Shanks crashed into you all of the sudden. There was no trace of hesitation in any of his movements; he pressed his lips against your own with such urgency and desperation that you barely had the chance to react to his actions in any way. You could do no more than close your eyes peacefully as his lone hand gently stroked alongside your soft jawline, only to firmly hold you in place by the edge of your face once he realised that you were kissing him back with just as much vigour.

This deliberate kiss alone had him reeling, but he had to pull away to catch his breath, which means that he was free to watch you as he pleased. He couldn’t help but zero in on your dilated pupils, the wetness on your lips that had you licking your lips to get rid of the feeling.

That alone made Shanks’ chest swell with pride, but the well you nuzzled his left shoulder where his cape would normally lie had him choking on air. He fought a dopey smile until he just couldn’t contain himself anymore.

His hand wandered from your jawline down, down, down to your waist. He lovingly held you there before diving in to give you giddy pecks.

“Now– you’ll never– get rid– of me– ever!”

He couldn’t help but laugh, relieved to hold you, to love you.

You were his, finally! Finally… he would no longer have to worship the idea of you, now that he has you, he is that much closer to being at peace with himself.

He will be there whether you need him or not – his love for you has always been inevitable, but he’s glad he took the dive.

"Wouldn't have it any other way...", you muttered, caressing his stubbled cheek.

You're his now.

[roguelov]

Scars and All

Summary: For a few years, you have been friends with Trafalgar Law. And for a few years you have harbored a crush on his dad, Donquixote Rosinante. You tried, and tried, to ignore such feelings, but perhaps it’s time to put it all out into the open. No more hiding, you will tell him how you feel. You only hope he will let you down gently.

Word Count: ~8.9k

Reader: fem/afab (reader referred to a sweetheart/sweet girl)

Warnings: SMUT (age gap (reader is in their mid 20s and Cora is 40), breast play, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, cream pie, dirty talk, small breeding kink, mostly dom!cora), minor angst (denial of feelings), pining, fluff in the end

(Fanart and inspo for the fic by levikra)

The idle rumbling of the car was the only thing keeping you grounded, or was the irritable sensation propelling your already splintered mind into more of a frenzy? You pressed your forehead into the steering wheel. The sun’s ray heated the faux leather, unfortunately not bringing you any relief or comfort. Just more irritation.

This is stupid.

Grumbling, you lifted your head, peering up at the picturesque house. It was simple with a small porch with rickety chairs to recline in, and a worn down welcome mat. Shutters muted by the sun. Its attached garage had its mouths open revealing a sleek vintage car and a motorcycle parked inside.

Plain. Ordinary.

Yet, it was frighteningly daunting. You white-knuckled your steering wheel. Your heart pounded feverishly in your chest. Blood pumped so loud in your ears you could barely discern the jumbled voices from the radio. A song? An interview? Why did it matter? Why were you focusing on such trivial things when -

Dumb. This is so fucking dumb and stupid and - and I should just leave. He wouldn’t -

You banged your head - again - against the steering wheel, growing out in frustration. “What am I doing here,” you asked the rhetorical question in the lone space.

You tilted your head, glancing at your passenger and the reason for the afflictions to your spiraling mind: a plastic container of an assortment of cookies. The container sparkled in the sunlight as if smiling giddily eager to be delivered.

You grumbled to yourself, “Why did I talk myself into this?”

*****

“Ooo, it smells amazing in here!”

You peered over your shoulder, looking back at your friend and housemate, Evelyn. She hungrily eyed all the variety of cookies littered across the kitchen counters cooling and some already packed neatly in containers. Giggling, she snatched up a fresh one, biting into it.

She hummed, smiling at you, “It’s so good.”

Your cheeks warmed and you smiled bashfully, “Thanks.”

She plopped down at one of the dining chairs, happily nibbling on her cookie. “So why’d you make so much? And why did you ask me to help?”

You snickered at her tone and small pout. “Ah well, I wanted to make some chocolate chip cookies but then you saw we had plenty of other ingredients so it just spiraled out of control from there.”

She frowned a bit, deciphering your roundabout words. “Stress baking?”

Your eyes dropped to the side. Caught. “Yeah, kind of.”

“Why?”

You added some cooled cookies into another container. “Well … I was thinking about bringing some to Rosinante .. and I know Law is still doing his shift at the hospital.”

She beamed, finishing off her cookie. “Yeah, I bet they will like them.”

You said nothing, you just closed the container, sealing it tight.

Evelyn watched you for a moment. Your hand nervously patted on your pants, rubbing off the flour and sugar. Your eyes darted around counting and recounting all the cookies. “What’s wrong? What do you think they won’t like them?” She asked.

“Huh? Oh, uh … no, that’s not the issue.” You shuffled side to side. “I thought that maybe I could finally do it.”

She cocked her head. “Do what?”

You fiddled with your fingers. “That … that I could tell Rosinante how I feel.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Really?”

She had known about your crush on him, you had confided in her some time ago. She had even comforted you when a few tears were shed under the veil of night. It wasn’t right to have a crush on your shared friend’s dad. You knew this. You tried to drop it, to let him go, yet with every conversation you had with him you fell a bit more.

“I … I just … I don’t want to keep pretending,” you quietly admitted. “If he doesn’t like me, then so be it … maybe I could finally move on once I hear it from him … it’ll be awkward as hell when we go over there in the future but … I should do this.”

No more delusions or what ifs. Your mind tired of these endless running thoughts every single night.

Eve gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m proud of you.”

You smiled, a small one. You placed a hand on your chest, rubbing the spot over your racing heart.

I got this.

Taking a deep breath, you picked up a perfectly packaged container. You held the container close to your chest, however once you turned to leave you froze.

Seeing your hesitation, Evelyn got up and started pushing you towards the door. “Alright, go.”

You dug your heels into the floor. “But -“

“Nope, now shoo.”

“Actually I - I changed my mind. This is a terrible idea and I don’t want to do the adult thing anymore -“

“It’s a wonderful idea,” she urged you, opening the front door for you. “And he’ll love them.”

And you, she thought.

“I don’t care if he likes the cookies,” you grumbled. “It’s the other thing.”

“You can do it. I know he likes you back -“

You vehemently shook your head, pushing back on her attempts. “I can’t -“

She spun you around, grabbing your arms. Her eyes blazed with determination, far more than your own. “Yes, you can. You said you would do it, so no backing out.”

You hung your head, sighing deeply, “… fine.”

She beamed. “Great! And don’t worry, I’ll keep Law away … for a few hours.”

Your cheeks burned. “Whoa, it won’t -“

With one final shove, you stumbled backwards out the door. She chirped in a cheery tone, “Now, go. And good luck!”

The door then slammed in your face.

*****

Fuck it, just do it!

Shutting off the engine and snatching up the cookies, you hopped out of your car. Every step towards the front door, every time your heart jumped up into your throat. You wanted to turn tail and hide, but how could you go back home? Eve will certainly give you trouble.

I could just sneak inside and hide away in my room.

You muttered to yourself. It was at least a decent idea.

Wrong. All wrong, a voice hissed in the back of your mind. You’re a friend of his kid, why would he even see you like this? You shouldn’t have even entertained this for a second. It’s all wrong.

Your heart ached. You shoved that voice back, locking it in the far recesses of your mind. You didn’t need it whispering in your ear. Again. You just needed to get this all off your chest, you couldn’t bear the weight of this secret anymore. The rejection will sting, it will gut you, and you will cry, but then hopefully you could finally move on.

With a shaky hand, you pressed the doorbell. The chime cut through the silence. You flinched. Glancing over your shoulder, you wondered if anyone was watching this slow disastrous train wreck.

This is a dumb idea. Maybe I could -

The doorknob clicked then opened. You whipped around, staring up at the owner of the home, the father of your friend, and the owner of your heart: Donquixote Rosinante. With a cigarette hanging from his lips, he smiled warmly, “Hey, what brings you around here?”

Matching his smile, you held up the cookies. “I made a bit too much so I thought I would stop by and bring some.”

His eyes lit up. “Really? Thank you, here -“ he moved aside giving you space to step in, “- come on in, you know where the kitchen is.”

You nodded, walking in. Smiling, Rosinante closed the door behind you. You passed by the living room and into the kitchen with Rosinante following behind you. You set down the cookies on the kitchen island. Rosinante circled around the island to the other side. He took his cigarette, flicking the ashes into a small glass tray. His eyes darted over to you. He saw the question written so clearly on your face.

“I know I’m trying to quit. Just please don’t tell, Law,” he said, taking a small drag. “I know the kid is almost a doctor now, but it’s hard to break such an old habit -“ he winked “- it can be our little secret.”

Your heart fluttered. “My lips are sealed.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Joy, unbridled joy and elation, bloomed at the nickname. It brought a warmth unlike any other: sunshine on a snowy winter morning, bonfire on a cool summer night, or a warm blanket wrapped around at night. You couldn’t remember when it started, but you loved it. His deep voice mixed so lovely with the affectionate tone of the name. It was this small insignificant thing that made your heart cling to hope, hope that maybe - just maybe - he felt something.

“Do you mind?” Rosinante pointed at the container.

“Oh! Uh, no please go ahead,” you answered.

He smiled then opened it up. He inhaled the tantalizing decadent aroma. “Smells great.”

He plucked a chocolate chip cookie. Holding his cigarette between his fingers, he took a bite. He hummed. His eyes twinkled with delight. ”This is amazing! You’re a great baker.”

You smiled bashfully. “Thanks.”

Looking at him, your expression softened as he finished the cookie with a smile. However as he ate the last bite, your eyes caught something. “Hey, uh, you have …,” you gestured to a spot on your own cheek.

Rosinante tilted his head. His golden hair swept across his forehead. His innocent face made him appear decades younger.

How can a grown man look so adorable?

You reiterated, “You have some chocolate on your cheek.”

“Oh!” He swiped his thumb across his skin - to where you pointed - then gently sucked the chocolate off. He hummed, licking his lips. “Thanks.”

You kept your voice steady. “No problem.”

He really doesn’t understand what he does to me.

“Any reason you made so many cookies?” Rosinante asked, closing the lid.

You shrugged. “Just wanted some, but then it kind of spiraled into making a bunch of different batches.”

He smiled, leaning on the island. “Well, thank you for sharing. I might eat them all before Law gets a chance to try one.”

You mimicked him, resting your elbows on the island. “No worries, we have plenty back at the house … that is if Eve doesn’t eat them all.”

He snickered and took another drag of his cigarette.

Your eyes skimmed over him. He truly was a golden god, yet wrapped up with some boyish charms. You tore your eyes away. Your heart started to speed up again with the mere thought of spilling everything out in the open. He picked up the cookies, turning his back to you and putting them next to the fridge. It was out of sight, and somewhat hidden for a sweet treat for himself later.

Ok, fuck, breathe. Just - just say it. It’s now or never.

Clearing your throat, you spoke in a shaky voice. “Rosinante?”

He hummed, his back still to you,

I can do it. It’s fine - it’ll be fine.

You took a long deep breath. “I … I have something I want to tell you.”

He froze.

Instantly, he knew where the conversation would go before you could utter another word. The thing was Rosinante wasn’t clueless or oblivious to your infatuation with him. He will admit he didn’t at first, however it all clicked. He saw how you clung to each of his words, how you stared at him when you thought he wasn't watching, how you leaned towards him craving his warmth, or how you always sought out his company. He was surprised, yes, and in heavy denial for some time. But, as weeks passed, his observation and theory only solidified.

He could only hope your crush would pass.

Rosinante twisted around. “Please don’t.”

Most of all, Rosinante hoped and prayed his own attraction to you faded. It started as a small bud in his chest. Yet, the more and more you came around, the more you talked and laughed with him, the more the simple infatuation grew. It rooted its vines deep within his heart, taking hold and control of him. He craved your presence constantly, you were becoming his new addiction.

But, it wasn’t right.

Rosinante sighed heavily. Taking his cigarette, he smothered it out in the ashtray. “I know what you’re about to say.”

You blinked. “You do?”

Does he?

He glanced up, staring directly into your eyes. Why were his eyes so sorrowful? Or … pitiful? “You we’re about to make a confession, were you not?”

Embarrassment. White hot searing embarrassment coursed through you. Your eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights. You quickly dropped your head, hiding your boiling shame. Your hands balled into fists at your sides, nails burying into your palms.

“Please don’t.”

His haunting words replayed on repeat.

Fuck, I was right. Shit -

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing back the tears.

Rosinante frowned. Fuck. Maybe, he shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe, he should have let you speak first. But, he was trying to save you some pain. He moved around the counter, hovering by your side. His hand raised to comfort you. However, when he heard the faint sniffles, his heart clenched and his hand dropped.

Damn it.

“Look, it’s -“

You snapped your head up. You smiled, an awfully forced one that didn’t convince Rosinante in the slightest. Taking a deep breath, you tried to swim faster than the typhoon of emotions hurtling through your mind. “No, you don’t have to explain yourself. I - I understand … I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

It was a long shot, an impossible chance. Why did a part of me believe it would work? How delusional could I be?

You spun on your heels to leave, but Rosinante caught your wrist. He tugged you back. His hands cupped your face, forcing you to stay and look at him. He searched in your frantic eyes to see if he overstepped. But, all he saw was pain trying to be bottled up. “I do owe you an explanation, it’s only right,” he paused, trying to gather his thoughts, “sweetheart, it’s cliche I know but it’s not you, it’s me … I’m … I’m not right for you.”

Your heart - your conflicted heart - flipped. “… what?”

He sighed, “You are kind and wonderful and amazing -“

And everything I could ever hope for, he thought.

“- but I’m broken. I’m old. I’m scarred. I’m - I’m not whole.”

Unlike you.

His words swirled around in your head. Broken. Old. Scarred. “So?” You asked in a quiet voice.

Rosinante’s eyebrows furrowed.

Pushing down your nerves, you pressed on. “Not everyone is perfect and - and without flaws, do you think I am? Do you think I don’t have some sort of scars whether etched into my skin or across my heart?”

He blinked, taken back by your words.

Just spill it all. He … he already knows.

“Only you make me feel like this,” you whispered, dropping your gaze. “Only you can constantly make me laugh and smile, and - and brighten my day. You make me feel seen, heard.”

Rosinante’s heart hammered. “Can - can you look at me?”

Your eyes wearily inched back up. Your eyes were glassy with tears threatening to spill.

He smiled sadly, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone. “Hey, don’t waste your tears on this old fool.”

“Why not?” You muttered, desperately keeping your voice calm. “You’re amazing … why can’t you see that?”

Because I have a complicated past, he bitterly thought. I’m old, past my prime. You deserve better.

“Sweetheart -“

“Please,” you cut him off. “If - if you don’t like me, want me, or - or see me in this way then just please let me go. Don’t make me stay here any longer … but if you do … if you like me in some way … then …”

Your voice trailed off, leaving it up to him to interpret. An admission of his feelings? A kiss? It just had to be some obvious sign. You were trying not to crumble before him.

Please, just let me go.

Rosinante licked his lips. His heart raced sporadically in his chest. What should he do? What was the right thing to do?

To let you go.

To save you - one of his son’s friends - from this broken old man.

But what did he want? What did his heart yearn for?

You. He wanted you, he always wanted you. And maybe this was his only chance at happiness.

Why shouldn’t he at least try?

He leaned down slowly as if waiting for you to run, for you to get out while you could. But, you stayed firm. His face hovered inches above yours. His eyes bore into you searching and deciphering any signs, or tells, that meant regret. He couldn’t. He only saw hope, hope that this wasn’t a fantasy, hope that you could finally love and cherish him as you believed he deserved.

His eyes slid down to your lips, so soft and waiting so patiently. He swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. His eyes flickered back, locking with yours. “I want this, but tell me,” he whispered desperately; his hand now wrapped around the back of your neck holding you firmly, realizing he didn’t want you to run away now, “tell me you want this. I - I just need to hear you say it.”

You hesitantly reached up, touching the side of his face. His chin was slightly prickly unlike his usual kempt appearance. Your hand traced upwards, threading through his blonde locks - that nearly covered those beautiful rustic red eyes of his. “I want this,” you breathed out. “I want you, scars and all.”

Rosinante crashed his lips against yours. He claimed your lips, pouring all this untapped love into it. He wanted - needed - you to know how much you meant to him, how much he wanted this, and how long he had deprived himself of it. His lips parted, darting his tongue along your lips pleading for entrance. You shakily parted your lips, still surprised this was truly happening. Rosinante hummed, slipping his tongue inside. You whimpered faintly. With your head tipped all the way back to accommodate his height, you were truly at his mercy.

And you loved it.

He eagerly explored your mouth, swirling his tongue wanting to taste every part of you. You clung to him, feeling your knees about to buckle. Chocolate and hints of nicotine blossomed over your tongue. His tongue commanded your attention, yet so did his hands. His dexterous hands glided down your body. He awkwardly hunched forward, but he didn’t mind. He had you, he could hold you, touch you. His hands greedily roamed over you, mapping out the curves and lines of your body. He sneakily cupped your rear and thighs, making you gasp. Rosinante smirked against your lips. A quick squeeze and jerk urged you to jump.

And you did.

The ex-marine lifted you up quite easily. Your legs wrapped so wonderfully around his waist, and you threw your arms over his shoulders. However, he couldn’t make it quite far. Taking only a few steps, he stumbled into the wall. You were far too distracted by his lips and touch, you hadn’t noticed his quick reaction: one of his hands cradled your head, protecting it from the wall.

He pulled away from your lips, mumbling, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you panted.

He smiled, wide and beautiful, making his eyes crinkled in an adorable way. He was enthralled with you, and this moment. How could you truly be here in his arms, in his grasp? It was a dream, a dream he didn’t want to ever end. “Can we keep going?” He asked, nudging his nose against yours.

“Please,” you answered.

He captured your lips again, but slower. He wanted to memorize the shape and feeling of your lips. There was precision to his movements, a dance. The ex-marine knew how to maintain control, and how to draw everything out. Each stolen breath, each push and pull of his lips, each slow drag of his tongue, each teasing nibble left you clinging to him.

One of his hands slipped under your shirt, skimming up your back. You shivered at his cool calloused fingers. He murmured, “Soft.”

His fingertips drew nonsensical patterns, or so you thought. He purposefully drew hearts and spirals, carving his unspoken love. His hand moved upward before dragging his blunt nails across your back. He so desperately wished to mark your skin, to put his scar on you.

“Can I take off your shirt?” He begged into your swollen lips.

You didn’t answer. Using the wall as leverage, you haphazardly wiggled out of your shirt and tossed it randomly onto the kitchen floor. Excited and dazed, you didn’t bother to wait for him to ask about your bra. You unhooked it, adding it to the pile. His eyes widened, staring down at your breasts with his slightly mouth agape.

Fuck, this is really happening, he thought.

You nervously bit your lip. Your mind began to second guess his silence.

Shit, did I go too far? What if he didn’t -

Rosinante quickly hoisted you higher up then craned his head down. His lips wrapped perfectly around your breast, sucking on it. You sighed, arching your back to better help him. Your fingers slipped into his hair, holding his head close. Heat pooled in the pit of your stomach. His tongue circled around your nipple. Your lips and mouth had just learned his sensual dance. Every swipe of his tongue, your body shuddered. He teasingly nipped at the bud, making you gasp. He removed his mouth with an audible ‘pop‘ like he wanted you to know how good you tasted, how much it pained him to break away. Yet, he couldn’t neglect the other. He kissed along your chest, hungrily capturing your other breast.

“Rosi,” you breathed out.

Fuck, he loves how that sounded. How could his name send such intense pleasure skyrocketing through his body? His cock jumped in his pants. Gods, he needed to hear it again, and again, and again. His hands squeezed your ass both trying to hold himself back and as if you forced it out of you.

And it worked.

You whimpered.

Faint, yet so sweet.

Pulling away from your breasts, he rested his forehead against yours. Your chests heaved in an odd symphony. The thinnest space separated your lips, your shared breaths mixed together. His air was yours and your air was his, souls were mingling in such close proximity. His eyes shone, all his emotions now officially and completely bare.

No, more hiding. No more denying.

He stole your lips once again, unable to get enough of them. Humming, you arched your back, pressing your now spit covered breasts into him. The tiny bit of friction of your perked nipples across his rough shirt sent sparks of pleasure down your spine. However, and unfortunately, he broke the kiss far too quickly. You eagerly chased after his lips, needing them. Rosinante hid his amused smile. He kissed down your neck, swiping that devious tongue of his over your sensitive skin. He whispered, “You taste like sugar.”

“I - ah - I may have made a mess earlier,” you admitted. “Butter and sugar got everywhere.”

He chuckled. He wanted to say he expected no less from his sweetheart. Sweetness seemed to always pour from you, and he always wanted to drink from you - to always have a taste. For a fleeting moment, he contemplated taking you here. He could lay you across the kitchen island, pour honey across your skin, especially your breasts, and have his way with you. But, he shelved such an idea.

Not today, another time, he promised himself.

“Upstairs?” He asked into your neck.

“Up - fuck.” Rosi nipped at your skin, gently sucking and soothing the spot. His lips curled into a smirk, a smirk you felt burned into your skin. Your head tipped back into the wall as he continued his sweet assault. How could such a kind, sweet man be so conniving, so sly?

“What was that, sweetheart?” He teased in a low tone.

“Upstairs.” You breathlessly added, “Please.”

“Of course.” He pushed off the wall, delicately carrying you up the stairs.

However, since he was so focused on carrying you, you decided to return such delightful favors. You started by peppering his face in adoring kisses from his cheeks, to his nose, then his lips.

He chuckled with a growing smile, “Sweet girl, you need to stop or I might trip.”

“We’ll be fine,” you brushed him off.

Your lips trailed soft butterfly kisses along his prickly jaw and down his neck. Your sweetness turned sinister. You placed a single open mouth kiss on the crook of his neck. He let out a soft pleased sigh. Your teeth then grazed over his skin. His grip on you tightened. You lightly bit him, feeling a shudder run through his body. Smirking, you sucked - viciously and without remorse - on a sensitive spot ensuring you left your mark on him.

His reaction was perfect. He groaned and stumbled backwards into the wall by his bedroom door. The thud resonated through the still home, so much so a few pictures wobbled on the wall threatening to fall. “Shit,” he hissed.

You continued your attack listening to his heated swears under his breath. Once you felt satisfied, you pulled away, eyeing your red spot with a triumphant grin. It will only darken with time, a lovely reminder. Looking into his eyes, they were blown wide with lust and desire which mirrored your own. Smirking, you teasingly nipped his bottom lip. He swore again. Using one hand, he brought your head closer, attacking your lips with new energy. He pried himself off the wall and rushed into his bedroom. He used his muscle memory stumbling and swaying into the room until his shins hit the edge of his bed. Carefully, he laid you down on his sheets.

So gentle, so delicate.

His lips skimmed down to your heaving chest, between your breasts and to your hips. His fingers followed after his lips, tracing down your sides. Your breath stuttered at his feathery touches. His breath fanned over your lower stomach, hitting the waistband of your pants. His eyes flickered up, peering through his eyelashes.

“Can I?” He whispered in such a loving tone.

You nodded, unable to muster up a single syllable.

He undid the buttons of your pants and tugged them down while you lifted your hips to help. He bit the inside of his cheek. So beautiful. His hands traveled up your legs, squishing your thighs. She’s really here. He then spread your legs a bit, and didn’t miss the dark wet patch on your underwear. His chest burned with desire knowing he was responsible. His finger hooked around the band of your underwear. If he could, he would have torn them off already.

“Can these go next,” he asked, continuing to ensure he had your consent with every step.

Your heart skipped. “Y-yeah.”

He pulled them off as calmly as possible, and tossed them aside. Your cunt was dripping. He swore his mouth started to water. Swallowing, he silently drank in your figure, still reeling you were here. He wanted to ravish you, he wanted to make love to you, he wanted to do it all.

However, for you, the silence pressed on for too long. His blank stare morphed into disinterest in your mind. Insecurities bubbled up as it dawned on you how you were now completely naked before him. Your hands covered your chest and you snapped your legs closed.

What am I -

Rosinante’s eyes widened at your sudden change. He immediately climbed onto the bed, over top of you, and removed your hands from your chest. “Please, don’t,” he breathed out. “I - I’m sorry … you’re just so beautiful.”

Your cheeks and chest flooded with heat. You quickly turned your head to the side, hiding.

He cupped your cheek, turning your head back to him. “You are. Please don’t hide from me.”

His soft expression and kind smile eased back the fears. You slowly nodded.

“Good. Here, it’s only fair.” He leaned back and removed his shirt, adding it to the pile on his floor.

Your breath hitched. Your eyes darted all over, taking him all in. So many scars. You propped yourself up on your elbow, reaching out. You carefully traced over each of them, outlining the rigids and harsh ragged shapes. Rosi watched you intensely. A shiver ran down his spine. You were so delicate, as if he were made of glass. Your face filled with some kind of concentration, one he didn’t fully understand.

You asked softly, “Can … can you flip over?”

Stunned a bit, yet Rosi complied. He rolled onto his back into the squeaky mattress. You swiftly straddled his hips. Before he could ask, you bent down kissing one scar by his ribs. His heart leapt up into his throat. You then methodically kissed every single scar - no matter the size nor how gnarly it appeared - all over his chest. You finished your endeavor by kissing the one near his heart, an almost fatal hit. His heart thrummed beneath your lips, and you felt the elated vibrations. You peered up to see his cheeks flushed a rosy red and his lips parted as he tried to calm his breathing. You had rendered this man - this near mammoth of a man - into an utter mess. He was putty under such touches, touches he had long deprived himself of.

You smiled, resting your cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, a beat which your heart harmonized with. “I’m sorry, did I -“

“Don’t.” He let out a shaky exhale. “Don’t apologize. I - I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Your hand followed the curve of his chest to a scar on his right shoulder. You, once again, traced the shape. Rosi shuddered. At his reaction, a thought suddenly dawned on you. “Rosi, are your scars sensitive?”

He rubbed a hand over his face, mumbling, “Just a bit.”

Noted.

You held back a devious smirk. Sitting up, you placed your hands on his chest. Your nails raked down.

Maybe I could have some fun -

Rosi’s hands suddenly gripped your hips. He yanked you all the way up his body. A sharp gasp left your lips. Your hands flung out and collided with the wall for support. Your eyes - wide and somewhat confused - dropped down. You now straddled over his face, your knees on either side. His hands wrapped around your thighs and squeezed, letting the fat pool between his fingers. Most importantly, his grip indicated one thing: he was unwilling to let you go.

“Fuck.” He groaned, looking up at your dripping cunt like it was a meal.

Your heart sped up, “Wait, Rosi - I -“

“Sweetheart, I dreamt of this so many times,” he whispered. His breath, each puff of air, sent jolts through your body. “Please, can I have this?”

No one had begged before.

Trying and failing to keep your voice steady, you stuttered out, “I, uh, y-yes - ah!”

Rosinante eagerly yanked you down, unable to wait another second. Humming, his lips wrapped around you. The tip of his tongue swept over your folds, collecting and tasting you. Sparks burst through you.

“Rosinante,” you moaned. How could one single motion left you so vocal?

He smirked at your reaction as he weaved a spell over you. He moaned as he started devouring you. His tongue teasingly traced your folds. You shuddered. He did it once, twice, then pushed his tongue inside of you. He curled his tongue, hitting your spongy walls. You whimpered. Your hands balled up into fists, clawing at the wall. His tongue - long and thick - moved with precision. His age and experience truly showed in his moment. He knew how to work it, how to render you in his beautiful mess.

He hummed. The wondrous vibrations made you moan loudly and unabashedly. A noise you never expected you to make. One of your hands instinctively shot down and latched onto his hair. Mindless on your growing pleasure, you tugged on his strands, making him groan. More vibrations, more dizzying sensations, more of your juices coated his lips and face.

Rosinante nearly rolled his eyes back. Fuck, this was better than his measly dreams. His cock twitched in his pants at each of your sounds. And gods if you tasted and felt this amazing just around his tongue, then how would it feel to be buried inside of you? Precum spilled in his pants at the mere thought.

Pleasure built deep in your stomach. As his tongue expertly moved and curled in and out of you, you lowered yourself more and greedily rocked your hips to chase after the pleasure. He moaned. His fingers dug harshly into your thighs, possibly leaving bruises.

“That’s it, sweetheart, ride my face,” he purred.

Shit.

Rosinante’s eyes darkened. Your walls fluttered around his tongue at his blunt words. He watched your head tip back as a sweet whimper hummed in the back of your throat.

“Dirty girl,” he murmured with a devious smirk.

His words added to the insatiable heat burning you from the inside out. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the pornogrpahic moans daring to escape. He continued to watch, unwilling to tear his gaze away. He loved how your breasts bounced, tempting him to feast on him again, how your back curled so elegantly, how your thighs slowly squeezed around him minimizing his world so it was you and you alone, and how your hips stuttered losing concentration at his words, his pet names, and his merciless tongue.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” his voice was low and commanding, drawing up such a tone from his former marine days.

You shakily glanced down at him. Your eyes drooped with lust and desperation, your chest heaved gulping down air, and your mouth hung open as whimpers and moans poured out. To him, you were picture perfect, a sight to behold and cherish.

He turned his head, kissing your thigh. “Good, now can you lean forward for me?”

With a tiny nod, you tipped your hips forward.

”That’s it, good girl.”

Your whole body pulsed. Such praise, such simple words shouldn’t set your body ablaze, and yet you nearly crumble. You already wanted to hear that honey tone pour from his lips again.

His lips wrapped around your swollen clit, sucking on it. You inhaled sharply. His hand then caressed down between your thighs. It trailed down with such a light tough until one of his slender fingers dragged slowly through your soaked lips. You lurched at the feeling. He gingerly pushed his finger in. You shut your eyes tight and bit your lip, almost drawing blood. His finger moved painstakingly slow, both wanting to be careful yet also wanting to tease you closer to that edge.

“More,” you begged, already pushing your hips back. “Please.”

Rosinante happily and easily added a second finger. The wet sounds echoed in the room from him hungrily sucking and licking at your clit, to his fingers being drenched in your juices. It was all too much. You pressed your forehead into the wall, closing your eyes. It held all of your support. You were panting, nearly drooling as pleasure claimed your whole body.

Fuck, Rosinante could come at the sight of you like a horny teenager. His cock ached to be free, to be buried within your walls, to be stroked by your delicate fingers, to be wrapped around your tongue, or perhaps to be smushed between your breasts. He wanted it all. But, he also wanted this. He needed this just as much as you did. His pleasure can wait, he wanted to devote all his energy onto you. He hummed again.

Another moan fell off your lips.

Cracking open your eyes, you were greeted with Rosinante’s red glowing eyes beneath you. He then kissed your clit, softly as if giving one a kiss on the cheek, and cooed, “Be a good girl and come all over my face.”

“Fuck,” you swore. He chuckled, a rich laugh. He crooked his finger, hitting a certain spot. You gasped, seeing stars. “T-There, fuck, right there.”

Rosi immediately zoned onto that spot. His fingers bullied into you with new purpose. Each curl, scissoring, of his fingers snatched your breath away. His tongue and mouth, however, could not be forgotten either. He sucked and swirled his tongue, guiding you closer to the edge. You tightened your grip on his hair, nails scraping along his scalp. And he could only moan. Pleasure and pain tangled so well together.

You mewled, “Rosi, I - I about to come.”

“Give it to me,” he growled.

The pressure built and built, and you quickly abandoned all caution and care. You began to grind back on his fingers, practically humping his face. A fog was casted over your mind, only able to think of your pleasure. Rosinante moaned, fueling your end.

Yes, use me, he thought.

A few more pumps of his slender fingers, mixed with his constant attack on your clit, you cried out his name gushing all over his face. The edges of your vision blurred with stars. Rosinante swiftly pulled out his fingers and greedily drank you up. He groaned, enjoying every drop. He feasted until your legs were shaking, ready to topple over and you were whimpering and jerking from the intense overstimulation.

He thankfully - and finally - stopped. He lifted you up and off his face, laying you down on the bed. He then littered your heavy tired body with kisses as you came back to your senses. He kissed your cheek then forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, tossing him a lopsided smile. “I’m good.”

Great. Fantastic. Amazing.

He smiled, giving you a short kiss. He continued his conquest kissing down your neck and chest. You sighed dreamily, threading your fingers through his hair. Your desires, however, were being reignited by every kiss. You still craved more, you wanted him all.

“I want you,” you whispered softly.

He lifted his head with some hesitancy behind his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You hadn’t been more sure in your life.

“Ok,” he smiled, giving you a quick peck on your lips.

Standing up, you finally could drink in the full sight of him. The years had been so kind to him. He was like a Greek god: golden hair kissed by Apollo and Helios, a rugged physique that battled Ares’s, a booming laughter rivaling Zeus’s own thunder, a voice so rich and luscious like ambrosia poured directly from Dionysus’s cup, and all of it wrapped together and blessed by Aphrodite’s touch.

He was beautiful, more than beautiful he was ethereal.

He tugged down his pants, along with his boxers. Your eyes trailed down to chest, to his stomach, to the thin patch of darker blonde strands to his hard cock - long and thick, matching his already intimidating height. His tip red and swollen as precum leaked out, a sign of your effect on him.

You swallowed nervously.

Would he fit?

Rosinante’s ego inflated at your stunned reaction. He kicked aside the clothing, unfortunately his clumsy curse returned momentarily. Getting tripped up, he toppled sideways, crashing to the ground. You immediately sprung up. Before you could think to ask if he was okay, he propped himself up. His cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment. He huffed, resting his chin on the edge of the bed.

Smooth, he sarcastically thought to himself.

You bit your lip then bursted out into laughter. You know you shouldn’t, yet you shouldn’t have expected anything less. He perked up, and smiled at your infectious laugh. You crawled over to him, sitting back on your knees. You cupped his face, bending down kissing him softly. Pulling away, Rosinante looked at you as if you brought upon his salvation, as if you were an oasis in the desert of his life.

“Are you okay?” You asked, still concerned about him.

“Yeah,” he smiled.

“Good.”

Still holding his face, you gently drew him with you, urging him back on the bed. He listened to your silent command. You fell backward, scooting up the bed while he slowly crawled over top of you.

“Are you sure?” He repeated.

You threw your arms over his shoulders, bringing him down. “Yes, I want you. Like I said, scars and all.”

His heart melted. He kissed your nose. His hand slid down your side, sending ripples of anticipation. He guided your leg over his hip. He gave your thigh a quick reassuring squeeze. He will happily take the lead in this dance, he will ensure you are cared for. There will be no misstep.

He lowered his hips, brushing the tip of his cock over your dripping folds. You shivered at the size and warmth of him. He teasingly rubbed through your folds and over your clit, enjoying how his precum mixed with your first orgasm. Your nails sunk into his skin. Crescent shapes adorned his body with more marks to come.

“We’ll take it slow, ok?” He whispered.

“Ok,” you mumbled, beginning to lose yourself all over again.

He reached down grabbing the base of his cock, and slowly pushed the head of it in. You bit the inside of your cheek. It stung. The stretch was unlike anything you had experienced or felt.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he spoke, reading your expression and feeling the tenseness of your body.

You panted, ”Keep going.”

You wanted this.

Listening, he pushed in further. A sharp hiss left your lips. You clawed at his back, red ribbons added to the jagged pale scars. Rosinante almost stopped, fearfully he was hurting you too much.

“Don’t stop,” you begged. The sting had begun to subside as pleasure whisked you away.

Rosinante again listened to you. He may lead this dance but he had a partner he must be attentive too. You whimpered, shutting your eyes and adjusting to his size. Your heel dug into the meat of his calf, pleading him to keep going. With one final push, Rosinante was completely in filling you to the brim. He panted heavily over top of you. He watched as your face contorted from minor pain to absolute pleasure. Opening your eyes, you were met with pure unfiltered love, a culmination of months upon months of locked feelings, of denial and heartache.

It was finally all unburden, and unchained.

Breathless, you both stared at each other unmoving. Neither of you could. You both desperately wanted to stay here, to preserve such a memory and feelings. He filled you, your senses utterly overwhelmed by the sensation of him. And your body welcomed him in return.

It was as if you were made for each other.

Rosinante hid his face in your shoulder, exhaling shakily. Shit, I feel like I could come right now.

“I’m going to move now,” he grunted into your neck.

“Please.”

Taking a deep breath, he slowly moved his hips. His thick cock dragged through your walls before thrusting back in.

You whimpered.

“I got you,” he whispered. “If anything hurts, tell me.”

“Just - just please don’t stop.”

He let out a breathy chuckle. His hips increased in speed, spurring stars to burst in the corners of your eyes. Your mouth hung open as a silent moan spilled out. His cock stretched and filled you leaving nothing but pleasure in its wake. You wrapped your other legs around his hip, clinging to him. You were immediately becoming drunk and desperate on such pleasures. And Rosinante wanted to give you everything, to have you consumed by pleasure. He curled over you, pressing his forehead against yours. Lifting your hips, he hit a new angle, deeper and far more intimate.

“F-Fuck, Rosi,” you moaned. You clawed harshly at his back. An apology sat on your tongue, but every thrust left you mewling. You could only babble his name or curses.

Rosinante glanced down, seeing your stomach bulge at the size of his cock. “S-Shit, sweetheart,” he moaned. “You’re taking me so well. Look.”

You peered down. The debauchery sight left you speechless. His hips slapped deliciously against yours. Your stomach bulged every time his cock disappeared back in. And when he pulled out, you saw how his cock was slick and coated with your mixed juices. Not to mention at this new angle, the tuft of his snail trail rubbed wondrously against your clit only furthering your pleasures.

Fuck.

Whimpering, your head fell back into the bed. You bucked your hips, matching his thrusts. Rosinante whimpered, almost unnoticeable. “Fuck, just like that.”

He grabbed your hands, prying them off his back and pinning them to the bed. His fingers interlocked with yours, and squeezed your hands. He captured your lips, kissing you sweetly and pouring all of his love into it. His mouth, his hands, were passionate, and yet his hips were so sinful. The trio constantly stole your breath, leaving you in such a messy state.

Breaking the kiss, he smiled down at you. Still boyish, despite the years on him. Hearts danced in his eyes, and you knew you were the same. Every movement, every thrust, every shared breath, every touch - no matter how minuscule - was written with love.

And he was beginning to love watching you squirm on his cock.

He bent his head, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Your eyes rolled back. The stretch of his cock, the grinding on your clit, the swirl of his tongue on your breast, each sensation brought you closer and closer to the edge. Each delicious friction melted your mind, and your body could only react. Your own well-timed thrusts started to waver as desperation sunk into your bones.

You whined faintly, “Rosi, so close.”

He popped off your breast. “I know, sweetheart, come on. Come around my cock.”

You shivered, lolling your head to the side.

“Be my good girl,” he purred into your ear, rolling his hips. “Come on, sweet girl, come on my cock.”

Your walls fluttered around him, warning him. He gritted his teeth, holding back his own pleasure. He needed to feel you come first. He snapped his hips with new fever, hitting the perfect spot. You gasped loudly. Blinding pleasure covered your senses. Rosinante saw your beautiful reaction and continued to hit the same spot over and over. His pace was unwavering, he needed to see and feel you come.

“Make a mess on me,” he moaned.

You tightened your grip on his hands, digging your nails into him. You squirmed and writhed on his cock. You whimpered as your orgasm approached quickly. Rosinante groaned in your ear, whispering such sinful things. You bucked your hips up just as he snapped his hips, and it all came crashing down.

Shutting your eyes tight, you walls clamped down as you cried out his name. He kissed you, swallowing up your moans and cries. He then kissed your cheek where a tear glided down, to your forehead, and finally nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “I got you, sweetheart.”

His hips continued to pump into you, letting you ride out your orgasm. It was a beautiful sight. Your body convulsed as pleasure consumed you and as each additional pump stole your breath. Your eyes fluttered open to see your god still hovering above you, giving you everything.

But, it was his turn now.

“Fill me,” you muttered weakly drunk on pleasure.

“W-What?” Rosinante’s eyes widened and his hips stuttered at your words.

Freeing your hands, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You dragged him down pecking his lips. “I want to feel you, Rosi,” you whispered.

His cock twitched inside of you.

“Please,” you begged softly. You arched your back, trying to take him deeper. Your hands glided down his back, pressing into his chest. Your hands roamed touching his scars, the ones you had memorized only moments ago. Your thumb grazed over his nipple, making him hiss. You nibbled on his ear, “Fill me, Rosi.”

His jaw clenched. He kissed you heatedly, pushing his tongue inside to re-explore your mouth. His large hands grabbed your hips, most likely bruising them in the process. But, you didn’t mind. He guided your hips, matching his new pace with more vigor and unrestraint. You moaned, drawing your nails down his chest.

A mere taste of this side of him was addicting. He could be loving, but he could be a monster. A monster you wished to learn in full some day.

Abandoning all his resolve, he pumped wildly into you. He couldn’t help it. Your words let a fire inside of him, and he had been holding back for so long. He muttered out an apology, afraid he might be hurting you. Yet, you took it all. You smiled up at him as he used you.

“Please, Rosi, I want to feel you,” you moaned.

He shuddered. Fuck, how could someone so sweet be so sinful? With a few more deep thrusts, he came, moaning out your name. He slowed down his pace until he buried himself deep within you, coating your walls.

Just like you asked.

Taking a second, you both stared at each other sweaty and out of breath. Rosinante carefully removed himself, and you squirmed at the abrupt emptiness. He rolled off of you, flopping onto the bed. But, he snatched you up, bringing you with him. You yelped, surprised by it. He settled you onto his chest, and your shock vanished. Sigh deeply, you nuzzled into his chest savoring this moment. A lazy smile tugged at the corners of your lips, listening to how his heartbeat slowly evened out. His fingers soon skimmed up and down along your spine.

It was peaceful, it was heavenly.

You each shared one thought: mine. Each of you unbeknownst to the other swore the same vow, to always make sure the other smiled and is to be loved for eternity. Perhaps, later down the road, such vows will be spoken aloud. But for now, you kept these secret promises to both of your chests.

Unfortunately, serenity was short lived for you. A thought, a more drastic one, occurred to you. Lifting your head, you nervously said, “Rosi? I - I think there’s still one thing we should at least talk about.”

He hummed, peering down at you.

“… like how are we going to tell the others? Especially Law?”

Rosinante flinched. He sighed heavily. His arms wrapped around you, firmly drawing your head back down. “We can worry about that later, I just want to stay right here a bit longer.”

You smiled, cheeks warm. You buried your head back into his chest whispering, “Ok.”

Your eyes spotted a scar near your face, specifically the one by his heart. You began to trace over it, memorized by the feeling and knowing you alone could do this.

“I like them,” you admitted quietly.

His heart skipped. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “It means you survived and you’re here.”

With me.

He gave you a gentle squeeze. His lips brushed over your hair, kissing the top of your head. “And I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

Closing your eyes, you smiled and kissed his scar. “Good.”

*****

“Law, please!”

Law huffed as Evelyn tugged on the back of his shirt. She had called him after his shift, asking him to come over. He wanted to go home, and into his bed, but she kept insisting. He agreed, however, as time dragged on doing little to nothing at her home, he decided to leave.

And for some reason, she decided to join him.

She begged the whole time to turn the car around, to go somewhere else, but he kept on driving home. He didn’t care, she could catch a ride back to her own home. Once parked, Law hopped out of his car, marching up the driveway with her bizarrely pleading.

“Look, I’m tired and …,” he paused, spotting a familiar car. One he didn’t see at her home, but oddly was parked here. “Why is she here?”

Eve flinched.

Law peered over his shoulder, staring down at her. But, she avoided his piercing gaze. He glared at her obvious guilty expression. She knew something. “What do you know?”

She blurted out, “Nothing!”

He tsked, “Lair.”

Law shook off her grasp then opened the front door. Stepping in, Eve quickly darted around trying to push on his chest but to no avail. Law walked further into the home. He didn’t see anyone, and nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Where …,” his voice trailed off when he stepped into the kitchen. His eyes instantly spotted something on the floor: a shirt and bra.

Eve whipped her head around. Her eyes widened at the pair of clothing, both shocked and happy for you.

Law’s face, however, scrunched up in disgust at the thought of what his dad had been doing. He huffed, clicking his tongue, “Idiots better not have done anything in the kitchen.”

Scanning the floor, he luckily couldn’t find any pants which brought some relief. Sighing, he spun around, heading back towards the front door.

Eve blinked, “Wait, you’re leaving?”

“Do you want to stay and find them?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

She blushed, “Um, no … not really.”

“Figured, now let’s go.” He glanced back at her. “You can buy me dinner.”

She gasped, “I will not.”

“I’m driving, so either you stay here and find them or you pay.”

She pouted and grumbled, following after him. However, Evelyn sent you a kind thought as she left.

I’m happy for you.

[zoldsick]

── Lagneía

𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: shanks x f!reader - as the newest member of the red hair pirates, you have a long way to go to prove yourself, not only to your crew mates but your cocky captain as well. Unfortunately, things fall apart after a little excursion and a run-in with a glowing mushroom that has you feeling...hot.

𓍊𓋼𓍊 tags: smut, sex pollen, nsfw, dubcon (it's sex pollen, ya know how it is), MDNI

𓍊𓋼𓍊 wordcount: ~8k

𓍊𓋼𓍊 Read on AO3

𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊

You really did respect your Captain, though you didn’t tend to show it. 

Benn Beckman was the one who had recruited you when he stumbled upon you in a gambling hall. You had been using Observation Haki to beat the dealer, racking up thousands in berri. Beckman clocked your underhanded method and cornered you outside the casino. You were nervous that he would report you to the authorities, but as luck would have it, he turned out to be a pirate. He was impressed by your advanced skills in Haki, and the two of you hit it off. Eventually, he brought you to the Red Force and introduced you to Shanks, who did not give the best first impression. 

“Who’s the kid?” Shanks questioned, barely looking up from his drink. 

He immediately rubbed you the wrong way. 

Beckman cleared his throat before you could tear him a new one, “This is Y/N. They’re who I told you about, the one gifted in Observation Haki.” 

Shanks finally looked up from his drink, lazily trailing his eyes from your feet, all the way to your face. He finally met your eyes and you struggled to maintain your composure under the immense pressure of his gaze. You lifted your chin, desperate to keep your dignity. 

Shanks kept his eyes on yours, his gaze intense as he questioned you, “And why should you be a part of my crew? Have you ever been around pirates or even worked as one? It’s dangerous work. Are you sure you’re ready for this kind of lifestyle, kid?” 

“I didn’t come here to be interrogated by some old man,” you bit back quickly.

Shanks put his hand over his heart dramatically, feigning emotional pain. 

“Listen, Red Hair, I came here as a favor to Beckman, I don’t have anything to prove to you.” You paused as the hair on the back of your neck stood up, “And if your friend hiding over there even thinks about shooting that spitball at me, I’m walking.” 

Beckman looked surprised, but Shanks only smiled. There was a clatter and some swearing before another man with dreadlocks emerged behind nearby ship supplies. “Well, shit. So much for that plan, Captain. Seems like she’s the real deal.” The man then jokingly blew the spitball at Shanks, who to your dismay, easily dodged it. 

“Color me impressed.” You look back to see Shanks smiling up at you. “You have a lot of potential. Let’s work hard together, Y/N.”

… 

While you didn’t join the Red Hair Pirates for Shanks, you became proud to be part of his crew over time. You had been sailing for around 6 months and were glad to say you had quickly proved your worth. Although there were members with better Haki skills, you knew you were improving every day with each new experience. 

You hated to admit it, but your captain occupied much of your thoughts. You often wondered if Shanks knew just how hard you were still trying to prove yourself to him. Though you saw him often, you rarely ever worked with him directly. In fact, you’d barely spoken to one another after your first meeting. You had occasionally exchanged a few words, formalities really, at mealtimes and during duty; but a part of you wished there was more. Though, you would never let him know that. 

You always put on a tough face in front of him, using words to bite back and hold your ground against the confident, and often cocky, Emperor of the Sea. Truthfully, after your first meeting you had come to admire him, and were slightly intimidated by the powerful man. 

While sailing the Grand Line in the New World, the ship stumbled upon an uninhabited island. It was a warm, tropical island, thick with jungle and vines. Shanks decided that the crew would depart and explore the island for supplies, and Roux hoped to find some edible plants and animals for their stock. 

All active members of the crew made groups and departed from the Red Force, but since you were not on shift, you’d decided to sleep in. When you awoke and found the ship docked, you decided it would be fun to explore the island as well. It was better than being cooped up all day in the barracks. 

As you stepped down the ladder a cheery familiar voice called down to you, “And where do you think you’re going, kid?” 

You jumped at your captain’s voice and looked up to see him. His hand gripped a rigging rope, holding him as he stood on the rail’s ledge, and leaned far off the ship to gaze down at you. His hair fell over his face, but his smile was still visible. 

“God, Captain. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

“Well, I’m just trying to make sure our ship’s hawkeye doesn’t stray too far and get into trouble,” he teased. 

“I’m not getting into trouble,” you grumbled as you looked back down to continue your descent onto the sand. “I just wanted to explore the island like everyone else.” 

“Alone?” His smile slightly faltered. 

“Is there a problem with that?” You ask, confused about where this conversation was going. 

“Well, we can’t afford to lose a member with skills like yours. I’ll come with you.” 

You reached the bottom of the ladder and looked up at Shanks in shock, “That really isn’t necessary, Captain. I don’t plan on going far-”

“Nonsense. Besides, you’re not much of a fighter, you should have a bodyguard when you go to unfamiliar places. And I have a duty to protect the valuable members of my crew.” As he said this he jumped from the railing and landed next to you. 

You did your best to hide how flustered you were, “There are other members with better Observation Haki than I do, you included.” 

Shanks tsked at your objection. He looked hard at you and spoke genuinely,  “Don’t sell yourself short. I heard about how you helped the snipers take out that marine ship last week. And I heard how you helped guide the navigator through the rocky sea and fog the other day. I’ve only ever heard other crew members praising you.” 

You quickly turned away from the red-haired man adjusting the strap on your bag. You knew you couldn’t stop the blush that was forming on your face, so you turned around to start walking into the jungle. “I just do what I’m told, Captain.” You quickly dismissed him, “Are you coming, or what?” 

Shanks laughed as he caught up with you, walking ever so slightly behind you. The walk was silent as the two of you marched deeper and deeper into the jungle, occasionally stopping to inspect certain plants or animals or collect samples in your bag. He enjoyed watching you as you took in the new landscape around you. He’d always found it fascinating to watch you while you concentrated. In fact, he had rarely taken his eyes off you since you’d joined his crew. 

From the second he met you, he knew you would be interesting. Shanks would be the first to admit he tested you during your first interaction. He purposefully pushed your buttons to see what you were made of. He needed to know how strong your resolve was before he let you, a stranger, onto his ship. And boy, did you meet his expectations, surpassed them even. Your insulting response nearly made him fall for you right then and there. But he knew his place as captain. He couldn’t risk showing special attention, let alone romantic attention to one of his subordinates. It was his job to keep you safe and provide you with a place to hone your abilities. He had to keep his distance. 

Yet… here he was, an Emperor of the Sea, trailing behind you like a puppy. He was rightfully worried to see you sneaking off the ship after the assigned explorers already left. He was doing this because it was the captain’s duty to protect his crew. At least, that’s what he told himself.

As you pushed your way deeper through the vines you tried to ignore the fact that Shanks was tailing you. This was just like any other outing with any other crewmate. You felt his eyes on you the entire time as you walked, but you tried not to let it affect your movements. Was he judging you? You felt a little more self-conscious than usual about what you stopped to look at or how you collected samples. Especially when you caught him staring intensely at your hands.  

You finally reached a large plateau. Looking up, you examined the wall looming far above your head, and at the base of the formation, there was an illuminated opening. 

“Shanks,” you called out to your captain, “there’s a cave over there.” 

Shanks shoved some pesky vines out of his face and looked toward where you were pointing. There was a small opening, barely 4 ft tall, and a blueish light was emanating from the abyss. You moved closer to the cave willing your senses to reach out and explain the phenomenon. You couldn’t sense any danger coming from the cave, so it was time to be like a pirate and explore. 

“I’m going to go in.” You stated as you dropped your bag to the ground and started making your way to the entrance. 

Shanks was quick, definitely not desperate, as he moved forward and grabbed your arm, “Woah! Hold on there. There is no way I can fit in there.” he gestured towards his large stature and again at the tiny entrance. 

You considered the situation and shrugged, “Then wait out here. I won't be long, I just want to check out what’s causing the glow.” 

Shanks frowned, realizing there was no point in arguing with you. “Alright, but be careful.”

You saluted him with an exaggerated hand on your brow and firmly stated,. “No.” 

You turned away from him and focused back on the cave opening.

“Brat.” you heard him mutter under his breath. You turned around quickly, did you hear that right? He had a smile on his face. 

You stared at him for a moment, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest. You smiled back before rolling your eyes and descending. 

The walls of the cave were rich in color, with layers of lichen growing throughout the chasm. You strained your ears to listen for any unseen threats that could have been lurking beyond your sight, but all you could hear was the rhythmic drip of the cave walls weeping. As you bent and contorted your body to ease your way through the damp walls, you could see the blue light growing in intensity ahead.

Finally, you reached a large pocket of space in the cave, enabling you to stand straight and take in your surroundings. As you stretched out your back you stared in awe at the sight before you. 

Dozens upon dozens of glowing mushrooms covered the room, growing across the walls and floor of the cave. The view was nothing short of dazzling, the light blue glow illuminating the space around you like nothing you had ever seen. 

You approached the fungus carefully, although they were beautiful, you knew well that not all beautiful things were good. You drew a handkerchief from your pocket and crouched forward to grab a sample. 

Suddenly, the hair on the back of your neck stood straight, and your blood chilled. You trusted your instincts and rapidly jerked backwards from the mysterious mushrooms. Unfortunately, you were not fast enough. 

The gills of the mushrooms expanded and expelled a great mist of spores. The sickly sweet-smelling mist filled the room instantly and you yelped in surprise, feeling your way out of the room and back into the tunnel. You coughed as you darted through the veins of the cave desperate for fresh air and open spaces. You could hear Shanks calling out to you and you forced yourself to push forward toward his voice. 

Shanks was anxious from the moment he heard you cry out. He felt helpless, unable to fit into the cave. He briefly considered blowing a hole through the mountainside to get to you. Thankfully, hearing your panting and clawing as you made your way out of the cave stopped him. He placed his hand above the cave opening and began calling out to you, begging you to keep moving toward him. 

Shanks wasn’t prepared for what came out of that cave. 

You stumbled out of the suffocating walls and fell onto the grass in front of your captain. You could vaguely hear Shanks, his voice filled with worry, but you barely registered it. Something was wrong. Your clothes felt tight and itchy, you felt your cheeks warm while the rest of your body developed goosebumps from the jungle air hitting your skin. And most troubling, everything from the deepest part of your core felt tight and ticklish. 

Shanks knelt down, grabbing your shoulder to lift your gaze to him. The contact between the two of you sent electric shocks to your core. Sitting face to face with your captain you could barely breathe. At this distance, every feature of his face was at your fingertips. You took in your captain's features. The jagged shape of the scars that ran down his face, the prickly stubble he grew across his chin, his eyes bright with worry, the color of his lips…  It took you a moment to realize he was talking to you. 

“Y/N! Snap out of it! Y/N! What happened in there? What's going on?!” 

The seriousness of his tone did not reach you. Why did he look so worried? You wanted him to smile at you like before. You reached up and touched his cheek with the back of your hand. Taken aback by this gesture, Shanks froze for a moment, then grabbed your hand, pressing it to his face harder. “Y/N. I need you to tell me what happened in there. You can do that for me, right?”

Your eyes widened, coming back to your senses you groaned as you tried to move away from Shanks and stand, only to find that your legs were jelly. “Capt’n. What's happening?” 

Shanks let out a shaky laugh, “Well that's the million berri question right now, kid. Tell me what happened in the cave so I can help.” 

You push your hands into your eyes, struggling to retrieve your memories, “The glow,” you whispered, “The glow in the cave. It was some kinda, I dunno, mushroom. It puffed some dust on’ta me.” you panted your words out. 

“Good girl,” Shanks stroked your hair with his hand, “Now tell me, what did this mushroom look like?”

“Was so pretty, just like the sea. Blue and glowing.” You smiled at the memory of the beautiful sight. 

While you reminisced on the memory, Shanks froze, overcome with the realization of what he was dealing with.

 It happened several years before you joined the Red Hair Pirates. Shanks and Beckman were wasting the night away at some bar when a woman approached him. He had noticed the dark-haired beauty staring at him from across the bar but had paid no attention. It wasn't uncommon for him to get stares as an infamous pirate.

The woman set down a blue sparkling drink in front of Shanks, “Don't think you're from around here, handsome.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes at him, “How about we get to know each other over a couple’a drinks?”

Beckman stifled a snicker and Shanks shot him a glare. Looking back up at the woman, Shanks politely declined her advances, “Sorry, I'm afraid I'm not looking for any more company tonight,” Shanks slapped Beckman hard on the back making him wince, “This fella’s all the entertainment I'll need for the night.”

The woman tried to hide her annoyance with a smile, “Well then, sorry for interrupting.” She sneered as she turned away, “But the drink’s still on me. Do enjoy.” 

Shanks and Beckman eyed each other and the drink skeptically. “Poison?” Asked Beckman bluntly. 

Shanks let out a hearty laugh, “Well, only one way to find out!” And downed the sickly blue drink in seconds. 

Shanks was stuck in his room the rest of the night, fisting his cock and rutting into his mattress. He admitted it wasn't his best decision. Hongo guessed that based on the color he likely ingested an aphrodisiac made from a plant called the lagneía fungi. “I've heard of petty thieves using it on pirates to steal their loot.” Hongo looked at Shanks scornfully, “Can't believe our captain fell for something like that …”

Shanks shook his head refusing to believe the evidence right in front of him. No! It can't be that. He brought his gaze back down at you and examined your face. You were flushed red, your pupils were dilated, and your gaze wandered across his body. He reached out to touch your arm and you gasped, goosebumps exploding from his touch. He really couldn't deny it any longer. 

“Alright Y/n, don’t worry. You’re going to be just fine, just try not to panic.” Shanks spoke, trying to reassure the both of them. Despite his words, Shanks himself was panicking. What was he going to do with you? Sure, it's just an aphrodisiac, but truthfully the experience was borderline torture. Furthermore, judging by how quickly its effects were overcoming you, you must have gotten a serious dosage in your system. If you were a male member of his crew he would laugh it off and condemn you to your bunk with a porno mag like he had done for himself. But how could he let you of all people suffer alone like this? 

“Am I gonna die? Everything feels weird,” tears pricked at the edge of your eyes, “like I’m on fire.” 

“You’re not going to die.” Shanks insisted, “You’re just, going to be… uncomfortable for a little while. Let’s get you back to the ship so you can lie down.” Shanks bent down and grabbed one of your arms to maneuver you onto his back. Hoisting you up, your breath hitched as your center came into contact with Shanks’ back.

Shanks took off at a brisk pace, navigating the rough jungle terrain. You tried to take Shank’s advice to calm yourself, but you were distracted by the friction created between you and Shanks as he strode back to the ship at an agonizing pace. Everywhere you were touching him felt hot and unbearable. You began to feel a familiar sensation brewing in your lower abdomen. No way, there’s no way! You panicked at the feeling and tried to create distance between you and Shanks to alleviate the burning coil between your legs, but he gripped your thigh back, securing you to his back. “Stop squirming, are you trying to fall over?” 

“Captain, ugh.” You buried your head in his back, panting from the unintentional pleasure, “Please slow down. Wait, please sto- Ah!” Suddenly the pressure built up to its peak. You squirmed and shook against your Captain’s back, fingers digging into his shoulders, unable to control your movements or your voice. With a final moan and gasp, you pushed yourself backward off of Shanks’ back onto the jungle floor. 

Shanks circled back on his heels to find you curled up on the ground, “What are you doin-”

The realization hit him. He noted your shaking legs and rapid breaths and suddenly he became aware of a slightly damp spot on his back where your bodies had just been connected. He grappled with his own arousal seeing you like this, disheveled and glassy-eyed. 

“God, Captain. I’m so sorry,” You covered your face with your hands, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I couldn’t stop myself.” 

Shanks was kicking himself mentally as he watched you before him. Here you were feeling humiliated, embarrassed, and vulnerable; yet, there he was feeling himself getting hard at the sight. He’d wanted you for so long, wanted to make you his. Shanks licked his lips. He pushed down his indecent thoughts and turned his attention back to you. This wasn’t the time. You needed to get back to the ship, and right now that’s all that mattered. 

In one swift movement, he scooped you up, placing a hand under your legs, carrying you in his arm. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his neck in embarrassment as he took off running. He was fast. You felt the wind on your face as he swiftly maneuvered through the trees at a great speed, his black coat flapping in the wind behind him.  It took less than a minute for him to reach the ship. Shanks bounded onto the deck and managed to avoid the eyes of the returning crew. Reaching his room, he quickly ducked in and closed the door behind him, causing maps and papers to fly in all different directions. 

Shanks walked with you in his arm over to his bed and laid you down as gently as he could. “Y/N, you need to listen to me,” he slipped his hand through your hair and gripped the back of your neck to force you to look at him. You looked up at him dazed, trying your best to concentrate on what he was telling you rather than the feeling of his hand on your neck. “You’re not dying. Those spores were an aphrodisiac,” He looked at you hard, making sure you understood what he was saying, “That’s why you’re feeling like this.” 

You groaned and tried to hide your face out of embarrassment, but Shanks held you firm. “I’m going to get Hongo, he might be able to find some sort of sedative to help you work through this. You might have a shitty night, but I promise you’re going to be alright. I’ll be right back, ok?” He said softly.

Shanks lightly rubbed the back of your neck with his thumb before turning to leave, but you sat up and clutched his shirt to pull him back, “No! Please don’t. Don’t get Hongo.” You buried your head in his shirt, “I don’t want anyone seeing me… like this.”

Shanks’ gaze softened, “Y/N, Hongo is a professional, he’ll definitely be able to help.” 

“No...I don’t…I can’t have anyone see me like this, please Captain. I-” your voice cracked, “I worked too hard to gain respect on this ship. Please. Don’t let anyone see me like this.”

Shanks began to disagree, “Hongo really would know the best way to deal with this, Y/N…” he stopped upon seeing the panic in your eyes. He sighed as he relented, “But, I’ll keep this between us for now. If that’s what you really want.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief, though it was short lived. The aching between your legs was demanding attention, and you didn’t know how much longer you could restrain yourself from tending to it. 

“Y/N.” You looked back up at Shanks, “If you really intend to deal with this on your own, the only way I know you can find relief is to stimulate yourself or… have sex.” Shanks kept your gaze as he spoke. “I’ll leave you my room. At least that way you can have some privacy while you deal with this. I’ll make sure nobody comes in here. You have my word.” 

“Captain…” You found it hard to look him in the eye, you knew what you were about to ask wasn’t right, “Please. Don’t leave me.”

Shanks froze, for a moment he was speechless, he waited for you to meet his gaze and searched your eyes, “Y/N, do you really understand what you're asking right now?”

“I-” You doubled back over struggling to compose yourself, gripping Shanks silk sheets. Just imagining sleeping with your captain was enough to make your arousal unbearable. Despite your best judgment you shakily reached down and palmed in-between your legs, exhaling from the slight relief it gave you. You looked back up to Shanks, eyes pleading, “I can barely manage this right now. I can't do this alone. I'm begging you, please Shanks.” 

Shanks stared at you, mouth agape and spellbound by the proposition. He could feel his mouth watering and his pants tighten. Shanks remembered just how miserable he had been with just the small dosage he’d taken, so he couldn’t even begin to imagine the turmoil that was currently wrecking your body. He balled his fist gathering the last bit of restraint he had and whispered, “It… wouldn’t be right of me to do this. You’re not in your right mind, you’d take anyone in your condition-”

“No. You’re wrong,” you were breathing heavily, choosing your words carefully, “I couldn’t bear it being anyone else. I want it to be you… Unless,” Your breath hitched, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer to the question you were about to ask, “do you not… want me?”

This was the final straw for Shanks. You had broken the great Emperor who’d tried so desperately to do the right thing. His resolve crumbled at your words and he found himself lunging toward you. He pounced over you, throwing you back onto his mattress as his lips crashed onto yours. Your senses exploded with electricity by his contact and you moaned into his mouth, eagerly accepting more. It was utterly overwhelming and you couldn't control the noises that escaped from your mouth as Shanks pushed your hand away to tend to your clit himself, shoving his hand down your pants.

Shanks briefly separated your lips and breathed heavily trailing kisses along your cheek and to your forehead, “I’ll ask you… one more time,” he muttered between pecks, “Are you sure about this?” He pulled back to meet your eyes. 

“Old man,” you huffed at him, “Won’t you shut up and put your mouth to good use for onc-” 

Shanks didn’t let you finish your sentence and forced your mouth wider to deepen your kiss as he worked to slip your pants off. Once they were off you spread your legs obediently for him, pushing your hips against his hand for more friction. With your pants out of the way, Shanks had more freedom to explore your folds. His thumb kept a steady rhythm on your bud as his other fingers dove lower. He smiled as he found how soaked you were for him. He gathered copious amounts of slick from your pussy, and used it to tease you further. Shanks moved his mouth down your neck, leaving dark spots where he sucked and teased. 

You could already feel that you were close to climax, you squirmed and whined for more. Shanks relented to your obvious request and slipped two fingers inside you. The gratifying release was instantaneous. You gripped Shanks’ arm as he massaged your walls through your orgasm. He reveled at just how seductive your body was and how your pussy gripped his fingers tightly. 

Shanks lifted his head out from the crook of your neck and glanced over to you, but you were worlds away. His whole body reacted when he finally saw you in shambles from his touch. Tears streamed down your reddened face, unable to concentrate on anything besides how good you felt, you just focused on trying to catch your breath. It was all so overwhelming, Shanks’ touch, his kisses, and his scent all around you. 

Shanks’ breath hitched as he let out a snide laugh, “Well, I guess that’s one way to shut you up, brat.” 

Shanks pulled away from you for a moment and the sudden loss of contact made you whimper. Shanks scolded you, “Quiet now, it’s not good to be impatient, Y/N.” Shanks teased as he shook off his coat and lifted his shirt above his head, discarding it onto the floor.  You watched, entranced by the way his muscles moved. His broad shoulders and massive tanned biceps patterned with scars. You felt the heat grow again as he turned back to you. 

You pouted at Shanks’ words, “It’s a little difficult being patient when you're so horny you feel like you're gonna explode!” You huffed, frowning dramatically. “Being in a hot man’s bed and watching him strip is not helping my situation.” 

You immediately regretted your words as you watched his brow rise and a wicked smile form on his face. “A “hot man,” you say. Is that what you think of me?” 

“Don’t get cocky,” you spat back, staring him down. He glared back, not backing down from your challenge. You couldn’t take it anymore. You just wanted him.  

With a mischievous smile, Shanks crawled back over to you, placing his knee strategically between your legs pushing into the wet spot of your underwear. He ground his leg as he reached his arm up to pull off your shirt, you lifted your arms to make it easier. Shanks sighed with bliss as your breasts came into view, no bra in sight. 

You gasped as Shanks’ hand groped one of your breasts and his mouth found the other. You leaned back and interlaced your fingers in Shanks' hair stroking and pulling on the red strands. You couldn’t help but inhale his scent as he devoured you. 

Shanks released his lips off of your nipple with a pop and moaned, “In all my years,” he said breathlessly, “I’ve never wished so much that I had both of my hands again.” 

You couldn't help but laugh at this statement, it was just too ridiculous. Shanks eyed you curiously, “Are you laughing at your Captain? Or, are you going to start calling me by my name like you did before?” Shanks’ mouth moved lower down your body, kissing your stomach as he trailed down, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you called me ‘Shanks’ earlier. What made you think you could drop honorifics with your Captain like that?” 

All you could do was watch him as his lips moved closer and closer to your core, you were speechless with anticipation. Shanks played with the fabric of your underwear, tracing the hem and circling lower towards your clit. You jumped from the sensation. “Though, I have to admit. I did like the sound of my name on your lips.” He continued to tease you with both his words and his movements. 

“Please, just touch me already, I can’t-”

“Call me by my name again. Then I’ll consider helping you.” Shanks was enjoying this far too much. His eyes twinkled up at you as he grazed your hip bone with his fingertips. 

You gave in immediately, your pride nowhere to be found, “Shanks. Please make me feel good. I’m begging, Shanks.” 

“That’s more like it.” Shanks shoved your underwear aside and thumbed your clit roughly. You arched your back at the sudden contact and cried out in pleasure. Shanks was completely enthralled with what was happening in front of him, he couldn't take his eyes away from your glistening pussy, soaking wet, all for him. He wanted more and demanded, “Lift your hips.” 

You immediately obeyed your captain and raised your hips. Shanks grabbed your underwear and ripped them off you. You leaned back with anticipation, but nothing came. You peered up at the red-haired man and you realized he was examining your panties. “Oh. Sorry, I know that old pair isn’t exactly sexy…” You explained self-consciously. Then suddenly, as if he was possessed, he shoved your soaked underwear into his face and inhaled deeply. Your mouth fell open at the sight. At last, when he lowered your panties from his face he stared at you intensely, his eyes drunk and lazy from your scent. 

You watched mesmerized by the man in front of you as he tossed your underwear aside, gripped the back of your thigh with his arm, and shoved it back towards your head. Before you could react to the sudden change of position, Shanks plunged his tongue between your folds and lapped up your juices. You gripped his hair as he indulged in your aroused pussy. Shanks moaned into you as you tightened your grasp and pulled his hair slightly. He felt his hard-on twitch painfully, desperate and leaking with pre-cum. It didn’t take long before you were rutting into his face, chasing another high and coming undone for a third time by your captain. 

As your spasms ceased, Shanks sat back up between your legs. You were mortified to see his face covered in your arousal. You sat up and began to apologize, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry let me just-” You raise your hand to wipe away the creamy slick from his face, only to have it shoved away and to be brought into another hungry kiss. The juices from Shanks’ mouth mixed in with your saliva as your tongues intertwined. 

You were at Shanks’ disposal, at his mercy. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone. It wasn’t enough, not yet. You needed more. Reaching down, you pressed down on the protruding tent that was rising in Shanks’ pants. Shanks pulled away from you slightly and hissed at the contact. You continued to palm at his growing member and whispered, “I want this, Shanks. I want to make you feel good too.” 

Shanks laughed weakly, “Well… if you ask me like that, who am I to say no?” He moved back to sit on his knees and fumbled with his belt and pants. You couldn’t help but smile at how he shakily tripped over his buckle with only one hand. You reached up and helped him by pulling his pants down. Although you knew from feeling him earlier, you were still taken aback by the sheer size of his cock as it nearly smacked you in the face. 

You eagerly eyed his cock and looked up at Shanks hovering above you, “Can I…” you begin as you reach up to take him in your grip, “suck it?” 

Shanks couldn’t help but let out a gasp as you came into contact with his dick. “If- that’s what you want. But only a little. I’m not confident that I’ll last long if yo-” Shanks was cut off by your tongue trailing up the side of his cock. A shiver ran up his spine, and he gripped your hair with his hand to hold on for dear life. You wanted to taste every part of him, you couldn’t hold back. 

You weren’t particularly experienced, but somehow you knew exactly what to do for him. You teased his rosy tip with your tongue, licking circles before wrapping your lips around it. You savored the salty taste and traced your tongue along the veins running down him. There was no way you could take him in his entirety, but you pushed as far as your throat could allow. You only got a few pumps in before Shanks stopped you. “Alright. That’s enough.” He sat back down on his rear and motioned for you to come to him, “This isn’t about me.” Which was true, but he knew his words were just an excuse. He easily could have come from just your tongue if he wasn’t careful. 

You got up on your knees as Shanks requested, and straddled him. His dick sat hard in between the two of you as he pulled you in for another breathtaking kiss while he used his free hand to continue to stretch you out. Finally satisfied with his prep, he broke the kiss and lifted your ass to hover over him. Shanks looked up at you and purred, “I’ll leave this part to you.” He wrapped his large hand around yours and guided it to his throbbing cock, “I don’t want to hurt you. So you need to go at your own pace.” 

You hesitated slightly at his command, insecure about your skills. But whatever shyness you felt about taking the lead was quickly dismissed by your overflowing arousal. With one hand on Shanks’ shoulder to steady yourself and the other seizing his member, you raised your hips to accommodate his height. You rubbed the head of his cock on your dripping pussy and you both hissed from the contact. Once Shanks was properly lubed by your fluids, you held your breath and slowly lowered your hips onto the tip of his cock. The head alone stretched your inner walls with an intensely painful pleasure. You felt overwhelmed by his size and the electric current that emanated from its pressure. You intended to take him slowly and acclimate to his size, but your instincts took control. You wanted to feel full. You wanted to be completely consumed by him. You hastily realigned yourself, took a breath, and slammed your hips down, instantly taking him down to his base. 

Neither of you could keep your voices contained. You let out a moan laced with the pain and pleasure of finally receiving Shanks in his entirety. The feeling was devastating. You gripped Shanks’ head pulling him to your chest as you entangled your fingers in his hair. Shanks cursed as he willed himself to stay in control, the pressure and sensation of your grip was mind-shattering. He wrapped his arm around your waist, gripping your skin to ground himself. 

You didn't give him time to recover. You raised your hips again and slammed down hard against him, receiving a grunt from him. You felt drunk, unable to control your actions, you found yourself rocking into him at an uncontrollable pace. The pain was fading away and was replaced by unbelievable pleasure. You needed more, you needed him everywhere. 

Shanks took advantage of your position above him, trailing kisses along your chest and leaving occasional bruise and bite mark. He used his tongue to tease and suck on your hard nipples. His hand wandered along the length of your back, grazing your spine with his fingertips leaving you gasping. Even the slightest touch on your body created an unbearable reaction, flooding your senses with bliss. 

Shanks’ hand continued to explore your body, ticking the nape of your neck, pinching your nipples, and finally falling between your legs. He flicked and rubbed your clit as you rode him at an alarming pace. You felt yourself nearing another climax as the coil in your core began to tighten. You chased the high as you ground against him, willing yourself to continue despite feeling like you were on the brink of collapse. 

Your climax hit you like a train, bringing earth-shattering pleasure throughout your body. You fell forward, pushing Shanks onto his back as the feeling overtook you, unable to continue. But Shanks wouldn't let you rest and you couldn’t contain your voice as Shanks cruelly thrusted up into you, compelling your senses to disintegrate as he fucked you through your peak.

Your ears deafened and rang as you laid exhausted against Shanks’ wide chest, still twitching on his dick. Shanks slowed his pace and you sat on him for a moment as you tried to catch your breath. You felt lighter than when you’d first entered Shanks’ room and your head was clearer, but the burning desire still lay unsatisfied. You tried to sit up to keep riding until your body was appeased, but found yourself collapsing again. Your legs were wobbly, unable to continue. “Shanks,” you whispered, “I think you’re going to have to take over from here. Please.” 

Shanks was still reeling from your ruthless pace on his dick. He looked up at you, astonished that you still had the energy to keep going. “So demanding. You’re making me forget I’m the captain here.” Shanks sat up and reversed your positions, laying you flat on your back as he hovered over you, “But, I guess I’ll follow your command this time, Captain.” 

Shanks pushed your legs back again and took a moment to examine your swollen pink pussy. It dripped and pulsed in anticipation, making it obvious that the mushroom was still wreaking havoc on your nerves. Shanks knew you wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer and decided to bring this to an end as soon as possible. He positioned himself above you and gripped his cock. Pushing it on you, he teased your clit with his tip for a moment before moving lower and watching in awe as you swallowed his thick cock to the brim of his balls. 

You gripped the sheets around you tightly, this felt even deeper than before, he was reaching far down inside and rubbing all your sensitive spots. He sat there a moment breathing deep with his eyes closed, feeling the deepest corners of your pussy squeeze and warm him. He was only brought back to reality when you squirmed and whimpered underneath him. You needed more friction, more movement, more anything. Your body was not going to be as patient as Shanks was wanting. 

Shanks opened his eyes and smirked down at you, “Don’t worry,” he gripped your thigh tightly with his hand leaving it stinging, “I’ll give you what you want.” 

Without warning he lifted his hips, leaving his tip barely inside you, and plowed himself into you as deep and as hard as he could. You choked on your own breath as he pulled out and hammered down into you again, and again. He set an abusive pace, each stroke hitting your deepest nerves and causing waves of spine-tingling pleasure.

Your heightened senses multiplied every feeling, every touch, and every kiss. You felt as if your body was going to disintegrate underneath Shanks. The sensation in your body was unfamiliar and frightening and it was becoming too much. You put your hands on Shanks’ chest in a half-hearted attempt to slow him down, but his merciless tempo continued to wreck your body. Twitching from pleasure, you attempted again to turn your body to run from the feeling. It was all too intense, it was too good and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

Before you could move away Shanks forced you back into position and entangled his hand with yours. His thrusts persisted as he leaned down his head next to yours and whispered gruffly into your ear, his slurring voice tickling your neck, “This is what you wanted, right? What you needed? Take it for me. Be a good girl for me.” 

You were nearly comatose from the pleasure racking your body. Just from his words, you reached another climax, and Shanks fucked you through it once again. Your eyesight became hazy and you knew you needed to ground yourself. Out of desperation, one of your hands reached out to claw his back and the other clenched his hair. You opened your mouth and bit down hard on Shanks’ shoulder. Shanks hissed harshly as your teeth pierced his shoulder, yet he found himself smiling. Your disobedience had always been a turn-on for him. Excited from the pain, he moaned into your ear, “I’m- close. So close.” 

“Come in me.” You cried out. You knew you sounded desperate, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted him to ruin you, “Please come in me, Shanks. Please… Please… Please,” tears ran down your cheeks and you lost all sense of self. All you knew was that you wanted Shanks, every last bit of him.  

It took all of Shanks’ willpower not to fulfill your request. 

Every last instinct in Shanks’ body willed him to release inside you, to truly make you his. But his reasoning prevailed. He knew that despite everything he could not do that to you in this state. So, with a few final harsh thrusts, Shanks pulled his cock out and released his warm come across your stomach. 

Shanks collapsed next to you, panting. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. Everything around him felt fuzzy as he came down from his orgasmic high. Once he finally caught his breath again, he turned over and reached for you. 

You had passed out. 

 …

You woke with a jolt of pain as you turned over on your side in your sleep. Groaning, you shifted your body to try and stretch out your achy muscles. However, you realized that you couldn’t move. There was a weight laying across your abdomen… and your leg… and there was something pressed up against your back…

Your eyes snapped open. 

You weren’t in your room, that was obvious. But where were you? You turned slightly to lay on your back, and looking down you saw an arm strewn across your stomach. Horrified, your eyes trailed up to see whose arm it was. It took everything in you not to scream as you realized you were entangled in your captain's sleepy limbs. 

Your mind raced, desperate to remember what happened. You were exploring the island, Shanks came with you, you went into the cave and… 

It all came flooding back. 

You lay there in shock. 

What was going to happen now? What if someone saw you? Would you have to leave the ship? 

Your eyes wandered to where he lay, breathing deep in his slumber. He was shirtless and you couldn’t help but stare. Looking down you realized you weren’t wearing your own clothes, but rather an oversized off-white button-down shirt. It was obvious that Shanks lent you his own shirt. What a gentleman, you thought sarcastically as your body ached. But, you couldn’t help yourself, you turned your body to face him for a better look at the man before you, admiring his strong features. 

As you savored the view in front of you, Shanks willed his body to sit as still as possible. He had woken up nearly an hour before you had and had spent the time watching you sleep, stroking your hair, and indulging in the feeling of sleeping next to you. He panicked when you shifted in your sleep and decided to pretend to be asleep. To his surprise, you hadn’t gotten up to leave, and he could feel your warm gaze on his face. He savored this morning, never wanting it to end. 

The peaceful moment was ruined in an instant. 

Shanks’ bedroom door flew open with a loud crash as none other than Benn Beckman strode in. You and Shanks’ eyes flew open and met each other in horror before turning your attention to the trespasser. Beckman didn’t get more than three steps into his Captain’s room when he realized what he stumbled in on. 

There was a moment of silence, all three of you stared at each other, taking in the information in front of you. 

Finally, you came to your senses and flung the sheets over yourself to hide from the embarrassment. You felt Shanks’ hand lay protectively on your back as you hid, “Beckman,” He spoke sharply, “you’d better have a good reason for barging into my room.” 

Beckman gulped, “Definitely not a good enough reason for this.” 

“Right. Beckman?” 

“Yes?” 

“Leave. Now.” 

“Right. Don’t have to tell me twice.” Beckman turned to the door and stepped out of the room. You peeked out of the blankets and saw Beckman pause before closing the door behind him. He looked back at you and Shanks sternly, “I hope you two know what you’re doing.” 

And with that, he closed the door. 

You peeled back the covers and emerged next to Shanks. The two of you sat in silence for a minute, both pondering Beckman’s statement. He had a good point. What were you going to do now? Mushroom or not, the two of you crossed the boundary between captain and crewmate. Would you both ignore it and pretend nothing happened? 

Your mind was spinning down all the possibilities that were laid out in front of you. Shanks thought your ears would start smoking soon, and he spoke first. Laying you back down on his arm he spoke two simple sentences that made you relax and settle down to sleep.

“Let’s worry about this tomorrow. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊

𓍊𓋼𓍊 authors note: HUGE shout out to @nanpecan for editing this and helping me not sound illiterate

[chuugiwara]

hiiii i love ur work !!! just wanted to request ace and reader getting it on (ykkk) and then getting walked in on 🧍‍♀️

thank youuuu

SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY .ᐟ.ᐟ 18+

──★ synopsis !!: what can Ace say, he loves it when you wear his hat, especially when you ride.

──★ pairings !!: portgas d. ace x fem! reader

──★ tags !!: riding, soft sex, body worship, praises, mdni!!, creampie, descriptions of getting caught in the act, light humor, sexual tension, nsfw !!

──★ word count !!: 1.9k words !!

──★ extras !!: hii my love, tysm for tuning in hehe !! this request made me laugh, bear with me as this is my first smut on here. apologies if i didn't do it justice, but ty for the request regardless!!

༄.° masterlist ୨୧ for more ♡

©nanasplushy, do not copy, plagiarize or translate my work. thank you

Portgas D. Ace was in a hell load of trouble. a trouble he could hardly function around, the kind of trouble that plagued his sleep at night and left him drenched in sweat and needing any sort of release from the pent up sexual tension that clouded and bleached the rest of his thoughts. trading them in for impure fantasies of his crewmate that never seemed to shut up, fantasies of bringing out the absolute worst kind of sinful noises from your sweet voice. he had been biting his tongue at each tease, each soft and lingering touch against his arm when you stood near him. the way your eyes would practically drag across his body like you were mentally stripping him without a single shred of shame to being caught. Ace knew that you were the kind of girl who took what she wanted, when she wanted, and wherever she wanted. 

the fragile restraints of self control slipped the more he caught your eyes, the way your tongue would sweep over your lips like you could already imagine the way he'd taste on your tongue, the way you'd both unravel into something uncontrollable the second alone.  the tipping point? when you had taken his hat from on his head mid fight, placing it onto your own with a soft smirk that made his dick twitch painfully in his trousers. you shot him a playful wink, sword drawn with a hot whisper in his ear before you departed to cut down anyone near your crewmates. 

"relax cowboy, let me take the lead." 

his neck cracked back with a low groan, hips buckling up with desperation into your warmth as you rolled your hips just the slightest. his hands gripped your thighs; eyes closed in bliss as you leaned down slowly to him. on instinct, he reached for you, arms latching onto you like you would disappear the second Ace let you go. he didn't want to let go. not now. not when he could feel every twitch of your pussy in response to his dick in you, the way your eyes narrowed in focus like you were lost in the moment. 

you placed a kiss against his neck, trailing down his chest before pulling back up to admire the sight of him. he let out a shudder, sweat dripping against his body from the position and leaving a salty aftertaste on your lips that only made things hotter. you shot you a playful grin amidst the steam in the room to the both of you. "take the lead huh?" he mumbled out, hands reaching to intertwine your fingers together. he was holding your hand, mid thrust into you as if testing you to bite back to his words. 

"show me what you got, baby," relishing in the moan tearing from your throat without shame, his grin only grew, keeping you steady against him as he flipped the two of you over. you blinked in surprise, feeling him slowly pull out as your skin prickled to the loss of warmth. your lips parted, brows furrowed as you let out a quiet breath between you two. "finished already?" you purred, fingers pulling from his to tangle into the dark strands of his hair. he rolled his shoulders back at the feeling, eyes closed as if you had just unlocked his sweet spot without even trying. he shook his head, placing a soft bite against your shoulder that made a gasp of surprise caress his ears like a special reward saved just for him.  his breath fanned against the shell of your ear; your bottom lip caught between your teeth to hold back the control you worked so hard to maintain with the commander. "im just getting started," he promised, his hands trailing over every part of your body in worship. you flinched at the pinch against your nipples, his index finger and thumb rolling them with care. your face heated to the attention, and Ace smirked to the sudden shyness coming from you. 

"god," he groaned out, slowly slipping back into your wet pussy that practically sucked him in. promising to drain every drop of his cum, and living up to the word as he felt a sudden pulse of your walls clamping around his length. "you're perfect." he swore under his breath. your eyes rolled back, feeling the stretch of his sudden movement, your legs lifting against his shoulders with ease as moans rippled through the quiet room from the new angle. 

he hissed, eyes drinking in the sight of you beneath him. your hair was a mess, his hat still on your head as your face burned in embarrassment to his never ending attention. your arm partially covered your eyes as you let out a loud moan of relief the more he slammed into you. Ace wasn't careful, he didn't care enough to be careful. he pushed into you without so much as a soft heads up, merely marveling in the thrill of the feel of you. the way you dug your nails into his back at each thrust, each pulse and twitch of his dick in the very depths of you. the way he never shied away to make noise, always making sure to let you hear how much he needed this. how much he needed you. how long he had waited for just the whispers of you. 

his hips pulled him out of you, leaning back and watching the way your shameless pussy gripped against his length, as if begging him not to leave so soon. the sight made his stomach tighten, suddenly near as your voice moaned out such a sinful tone of his name through lips he had kissed like it was air he needed. 

you breathed out heavily, both of you lost in the moment the more he pulled out from you. leaving just the tip of his dick in you before slamming back in you without mercy. his dick kissed your sweet spot at each thrust, each twitch, each groan that came from Ace on top of you. 

"fuck," he groaned into your ear, a shiver spreading through your spine and making you cling onto him for dear life. "you feel so fucking good around me," he promised, sincerity in his eyes to the claim despite such a sweet statement being said in this circumstance. 

his hands raked over your naked body, praising every inch with a fever, swallowing thickly as you moaned his name like a prayer you didn't know you needed right now. "you're so pretty," he whispered out, brows pulled together tightly as he gripped your legs tighter in his hands. you felt him twitch inside you, and your pussy instinctively tightened around him in response. 

you both were close. "please," he begged, hips slamming into you harder than before. messily, losing its pattern as if Ace himself was losing his composure the closer you two chased that high. you let out a whine, pulling his body closer to you as you wrapped your arms around his back, keeping him flush against you. he could feel everything, each shutter of your moans, the sweat shared between you two, the way your words no longer worked. that cocky attitude of yours was nowhere to be seen now, lost in the sex between you two, but Ace was the same. he moaned into your breasts, muffled and louder than ever as he fucked you just the way you liked. the same way that pulled those pretty noises from you like Ace had imagined hundreds of times before tonight. he kissed your skin, your hips desperately meeting his own and snapping a new wave of pleasure to the both of you. "tell me this isn't a onetime thing," he whined, desperate to hear your reassurance while he alone unraveled your mind with just a simple stroke. 

he leaned up slightly, one hand holding his weight and the other taking a hold of your thigh as he grit his teeth. "tell me," he hissed out, your mind shattering to the low voice that slipped from him. commanding, authoritative, and completely yours to hear. 

"use your words," you could only nod dumbly, your voice refusing to let out anything that wasn't a moan to the waves of pleasure Ace was shooting through your very soul. swallowing thickly, you shook your head with speed, your moans breaking apart the more you tried to get the syllables out right. he narrowed his eyes, watching the way you squirmed beneath him, his lip curling the tighter that knot in his stomach grew to the sight. the sound, the feeling of you. everything felt clouded over in lust, in passion, in a secret tension that had been waiting to snap for so long. he felt his ears ring, that high shooting through the two of you so close Ace could practically taste it. "i swe-..swear its not─ oh my god Ace..!" the only words caressing your ears and slicing through the cloudiness of the room was his low chuckle like he had just won a competition you had no idea you were even participating in. one you didn't care enough right now to even acknowledge. 

lost in the desire prowling at you two, there was no possible way either of you could have heard the soft knocks of Ace's room, nor the soft shutter of the doorknob as Ace grew closer to breaking that radar of orgasm. you clung to him tightly, his arm keeping him steady despite the desperate thrusts he shot into you. 

your nails clawed against the tattoo of his back, and the door swung open as the waves of climax had shot through both of you at the same time. "Ace, have you seen my─" you froze to the noise, Ace letting out a shameless moan the more you tightened around him and milked every drop of his cum as he came in you. you felt him fill you up, but your eyes widened in horror as Marco stood frozen from the doorframe. you flinched. 

then your breath hitched, face bright red to the interruption as Ace let out a silent swear to the voice he sure as hell knew didn't belong to the girl he had just claimed tonight. you groaned as Ace fell on top of you, loud snores coming from his mouth like he hadn't just made you see stars from fucking your brains out. Marco stood, face twisted in absolute mortification before turning on his heel and walking away with his hands up in surrender. your chest squeezed, and you swore you could have died from embarrassment this very second.  

there was no way you were just caught getting creampied by the second division commander, fully naked, then having him fall asleep on you in some narcoleptic induced coma. your entire body felt hot from humiliation, before a smooth voice fanned across your ears with a cheeky chuckle. "is he gone?" you looked at Ace, a smug look on his face before you felt his dick twitch to life in you. you let out a huff, before holding him closer for a second round. Ace knew he would never live down the rumors of him falling asleep after managing to finally get the girl of his dreams, but he sure as hell didn't mind them. after all, the little stunt he pulled meant he covered your body completely. the whole world could call him a loser for the rumors, but Ace would never let your name be tarnished like that. he'd happily sacrifice his pride if it meant your body would never be seen by someone other than him.