satoru’s pregnant wife who can’t keep her hands off him. you’re far along now, and he swears that the more your stomach grows with his child, the hornier you get.
he had to keep on his toes around you in order to not get you so worked up. the pregnancy hormones were really getting to you, and you lashed out at him or cried over every little inconvenience. but what he had to be most careful about was the way he touched you.
if his hand lingered a little too long on your waist — the intention wholeheartedly innocent — you’d somehow take that as an invitation to palm his bulge. it’s happened numerous times recently—even in public!
his poor, pregnant wife had no shame nowadays. yeah, he’s done his fair share of groping your ass when others were around, but it was always under a private eye, secret giggles shared between the two of you.
unfortunately, you had picked up the habit of doing it out in the open. he couldn’t count the amount of times people would gawk in horror, all while you continued to browse the baby section, unbothered, as if you hadn’t squeezed his balls like a stress toy in front of dozens of people. maybe you were an exhibitionist?
either way, it was clear your thoughts only consisted of three things as of late: eat, sleep, and fuck.
how could he resolve this? he wanted to cry. this wasn’t fair! why couldn’t you be this thirsty for his cock when you weren’t pregnant? never in his life would he have thought you could out-freak him. and as badly as he wanted to fuck you senseless in return, he had to be gentle—cautious. sex was increasingly dangerous at this stage — according to the doctor after a long night of abusing your needy cunt — and you were driving him to the brink of madness with the way you were acting.
tensions were higher than they’ve ever been, neither of you speaking or acting on it. however, things came to ahead one morning while he was leaving for work. like usual, he stood by the door in his suit, prepared to head out after your usual once-over. it was a domestic routine he looked forward to every morning despite him whining in your ear about how he was going to be late, watching you softly as you “fix” his collar for the millionth time.
satoru wasn’t stupid. he could tell you were stalling for more time with him, not-so discreetly using it as an excuse to touch him. and don’t think he doesn’t notice how you’re practically sniffing him like an animal in heat. he knew just how much you loved the scent of his cologne, and it was as if you couldn’t help yourself around him when you caught a whiff of it.
now, here’s the part where he may have messed up. after your initial aggressive arousal towards him — plus with the advice the doctor gave him on the down low — he made sure to no longer kiss you on the lips in your current state, and instead, opted for your cheek. when you hand him his lunch, he leans himself down to your height, lips puckered to plant a chaste peck on your soft skin.
though, what he hadn’t expected was for you to outmaneuver him, slapping both hands on the sides of his head, tugging him close to the point that he stumbles as you begin to utterly ravish his mouth.
“mff—!”, satoru sputters in protest against your lips, eyes wide open in shock. his lunch slips from his hand, the bag falling to the ground with a thud. shaky hands hover over your waist, your protruding stomach pressing against his hard abdomen as move against him as sensually as you can.
he doesn’t touch you back just yet, but you force him to. gripping his wrists, you bring his large hands up to palm your round, tender breasts that swelled throughout these past few months. your soft, cherry-flavored lips moved against his in desperation, and he finally responds back, moaning into your mouth with just as much fervor, squeezing the plump flush of your soft tits. the whimper you let out to the massage sends a shudder down his spine and goes straight to his cock.
you pull back, and he finds himself chasing after your lips until you plant a firm hand on his chest. his breathing is ragged, pupils dilated as satoru stares down at you through his blindfold. he takes in the sight of your kiss-swollen lips and furrowed brows, certain he appeared just as flustered.
before he can utter a word, you gaze up at him through your lashes, a cheeky glint in your eyes that he knows all too well.
“stay.” you pout, and he almost finds the willpower left in him to say no—
a/n: nsfw, cheating (on both parts), fem reader, just thinking about him rn, 18+ mdni!!!
kento “oh he’s just my work husband!!” nanami, who can’t express how much he hates your actual husband. god, he could treat you so much better, and you settled for that lowlife who obviously cheats on you every chance he gets.
nanami loathes to hear about how your weekend was spent alone because your husband was “working late”—an excuse he’d heard every monday since you started working at the same firm as him.
but it’s okay, kento can show you how a real man is supposed to treat you.
it starts off slow—a cup of coffee here and there and the occasional “you look nice today” compliments. then escalates into a cup of coffee every day, “did you do something new with your hair?” kind of compliments, and even going out of his way to buy you lunch on your lunch break (only if you go out to eat with him, of course).
which, somehow, turned into you spending your nights “working late” in kento’s apartment, and soon his bed, getting ravished by the blond man just as he wished.
how did it turn into this, really? you don’t know, and honestly, you don’t care with the way he makes you feel. it was a pleasure you’d never had the opportunity to experience before—your husband was quite lackluster in the sack—and you’d be lying if you said you felt guilty about any of it.
if there was one thing kento appreciated about your husband, it was the fact he never pleasured you, so he got to have it all to himself. the screams you couldn’t stop, the wetness your cunt produced from just a little bit of kissing, your trembling legs along with the small “thank you” he got after you were done—it was all his.
and the next night at the annual company party, when your work husband and real husband meet one another, kento shakes your husband’s hand, secretly thanking him for being so terrible so he could have you all to himself.
★ thinking about bestfriend!satoru who feels like he’s won the lottery when you confide in him that you’ve never properly fingered yourself before because it doesn’t feel pleasurable, opting to simply rub at your poor little clit to get off instead.
“it doesn’t feel good because you haven’t been doing it right, silly,” he hums amusedly, a cheeky grin pulling at his lips as he lifts up one of your hands and makes a show of examining the length of your fingers. “hmm… yeah, this just won’t do.”
“huh?” you mumble curiously, cheeks burning with heat as you snatch your hand back and bury it into your lap. “what won’t do?”
“you need much longer fingers than those if you wanna do it properly, sweetheart,” satoru huffs, smile getting so wide dimples have formed on his cheeks as he holds up one of his own large hands and wiggles his fingers suggestively. “like mine, for example.”
so that’s how you somehow end up bent over the edge of your bestfriend’s couch with your ass perked up in the air and two of his freakishly long five inch fingers buried knuckles-deep inside your needy cunt. what an unexpected turn of events!
“think y’can take one more, baby?” he coos breathily against the shell of your ear, a third slender digit mischievously poking at your already overstuffed entrance. “c’monn, you wanna be a good little bestfriend for your toru, don’t you?
“y-yeah, i do— i can take one more, i promise!” you whine out desperately, much too far gone to care about how utterly pathetic you must look right now with your cheek squished against the arm of the chair and drool undoubtedly seeping from your gaped mouth.
“that’s my girl,” he purrs proudly, free hand giving your hair a fond pat while he slides another long finger into your fluttering hole, stretching you out more than you’ve ever been before. “but if you really wanna make me happy, you’ll cum all over my hand and make a big fat mess of this couch. can you manage that too, hmm?”
and you comply, of course; because how could your overstimulated little pussy not squirt when the tips of his lengthy fingers are effortlessly caressing your spongy g spot over and over again, your legs quivering around his palm as a soundless scream escapes from your bitten lips.
yeah… maybe satoru is more of a bestfriend with benefits at this point.
husband nanami who quit working overtime because he hated seeing you stay up so late- dozing off on the dining table, a warm plate of food waiting for him at 11:37 on a tuesday night.
husband nanami who carries you to bed, making sure you were warm before focusing on getting unready himself. putting your health before his, like always.
husband nanami who make sures to eat the food you’ve prepared for him, appetite or not, because putting your cooking to waste would make him feel even more guilty (if possible).
husband nanami who likes waking up and catching you in the kitchen, dancing to the music while preparing his lunch. sometimes he even sees you taking small samples of his food before stopping yourself from eating the whole thing.
husband nanami who goes to work with his bento inside his bag, staring at it his whole shift and counting the hours until he gets to read what you’ve written him for the day.
husband nanami who stores all your letters inside the first drawer of his desk, rereading them as if they’re motivational quotes on a coffee cup whenever his coworkers and boss start testing his remaining bits of patience.
husband nanami who leaves the office building the moment his shift is over and heads straight to your favorite café, ordering every single one of your favorite pastries- not minding how the number keeps increasing with every beep.
husband nanami who surprises you, freshly out the shower, with a huge bag full of bread you’ve been craving the whole week.
husband nanami who helps you with your post-shower routine while ocassionally feeding you, laughing at how your eyes never left the bag the moment he came home.
husband nanami who makes sure you actually get to sleep before 10 pm, leaving no excuses as he carries you to the bed again, but this time you’re laughing and gripping onto his shoulders.
husband nanami who traps you in his hold, lulling you to sleep as he apologizes for all the times he made you stay up late- sleeping uncomfortably on the table.
husband nanami who gets to sleep another night with your face as the last thing he sees.
and husband nanami who wakes up another morning, with your skin being the first thing he feels.
I love the way you write yandere Shanks! If it’s not too much trouble, could you please make more headcanons, a snippet, or whatever you feel like writing? The way you write Shanks is so captivating, I keep rereading everything you wrote about him! No pressure btw!! Even if you decide not to write anything, I still appreciate the good read! Thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Thank you, this is really sweet! He's... not a character I typically go for, tbh but I'm glad I can write him okay. Previous writings with him were with a civillian reader, so here's an attempt at him scooping up a reader who isn't. :)
Reader is the first mate of an unnamed crew here. Details are vague.
Warnings: Injured reader(not by Shanks), drugging, imminent kidnapping
Damnit.
Damn it all.
You had faith in your captain, you truly did, but anyone could see it was often left to you to pick up his slack. But you were far from the only First Mate with that type of dynamic, so you tried not to let it get to you. Your captain, your friend- like most pirates, was ambitious and determined to make a name not only for himself, but for the rest of you as well.
And though he had the talent to back up his confidence, you all lacked the experience of older crews.
Your beloved Captain did not have what it took to fend off a Marine attack led by an admiral, and now here you were- alone, after dragging yourself into a beachfront cave. It was raining heavily, so any blood you'd left behind you had hopefully been washed away from the dark, rocky shore.
Ugh. Dragging yourself across the rocks did not help how you felt in the slightest. You knew your leg was broken, probably some ribs too. From the sound of your breathing- a raspy, rattling sound, punctuated by painful coughs that brought blood up with them, there was a good chance one of them had punctured one of your lungs. You tried not to think about it, instead focusing on the thunder echoing into the darkened cave, cool stone soothing your aching body. You just hope your diversion worked.
You try to steady your ragged breathing, eyes fluttering shut. You're utterly exhausted, and it's so cold... each wheezing inhale sends bolts of pain through you, arcing out from your chest, down your arms and to the tips of your fingers...
You feel the presence before you hear or see anything- the atmosphere growing heavier and heavier. You grit your teeth, dragging yourself back against the cave wall and into a sitting position with a long, scratchy whine. You think it might be a marine at first, bloodthirsty higher-ups determined to stamp out the small fry, but then a familiar caped silhouette steps in front of the cave entrance.
You suppress a groan. What the hell is Shanks doing here?
You'd met him a couple times before. The first time, it'd been nerve-wracking. None of you knew how the Emperor would react to the presence of your crew- you weren't bothering anyone, just drinking and screwing around on the beach while your chef roasted some sea king. But he'd been friendly, calling out jovially and asking if it was your crew that had the local marine patrol in such disarray. The caution melted from your captain, and he confirmed it to be so, clapping a hand on your shoulder and saying they had you to thank more than anyone else. You had just sighed and rolled your eyes. Partying with a Yonko crew was fun, but you preferred to remain sober. Someone had to keep their head on straight and unfortunately, that was usually you.
He happened to "cross paths" with your crew a couple more times. You'd thought it odd, but hadn't said anything.
His presence here confirmed something was up, to you at least. Despite not having a reason to believe he'd hurt you, your body still tensed as he approached, the slap of his sandals against stone echoing throughout the cave until he came to a stop before you. He crouches, and you hear a pop- probably one of his knees. It earns a snort from you, but the ounce of humor is short lived when that sends you into a coughing fit.
It's hard to make out the details of his expression in the low-light, but you can feel his eyes on you and you think you spot a crease in his brow. When your fit dies down into labored breathing, blood bubbling past your lips, he fishes something out of one of his pockets. Reaching toward your face, you're only just able to suppress your flinch when you feel a cloth gently wipe your face. "... You're a lot worse off than I thought," he murmurs, stuffing the bloodied handkerchief back into his pocket. You manage a scoff.
"... Didn't expect an Admiral," you rasp out truthfully. "M'not... crazy. I knew we weren't ready for that." He hums, quiet for a moment before reaching for something else.
"Your crew got away, because of you," he says, a strange warmth in his voice. There's something akin to a soft popping sound and he hands you something. "Here, this'll help." You reach up to close your fingers around... a flask? You raise it to your face, sniffing. Yeah, that's booze, alright. You raise it to the man before you as a gesture of thanks and take a swig, the pleasant burn cutting through the taste of blood. "Y'know, that's the first time you've accepted a drink from me," he quips as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
"Don't need to be the sensible one if I'm out of commission," you tell him, taking another drink. You feel pleasantly fuzzy already, leave it to Shanks to have the good stuff. "F-fuck. Wouldn't be bad to feel less, either," you confess, offering his flask back. He chuckles, shaking his head and pushing your hand back toward you. You raise a brow, but just shrug, deciding to drink freely.
"I thought as much," he says, watching you intently. It feels strange. You feel strange.
"Would think you'd be a bit stingier with this stuff," you rasp, "but you've tried to get me drinking every time you... 'happen across' us." You wheeze, slumping against the cave wall.
"Aw, is there something wrong with being friendly?" His voice is warm, lilting. You feel fuzzy. "I just like keeping an eye on promising rookies, is all." Your eye twitches. Sure, you're nowhere near his level, but you wouldn't consider yourself nor your crew rookies. "But enough about that. Can you tell me about the damage?"
You sigh, closing your eyes. The pain has faded, just a little. "Leg's broken. Ribs, too. Think one might've... p-punctured a lung." There's movement. You think he nodded, but the way your vision swims it's hard to tell.
"Well, I told Beck and Hongo to follow me if I took too long. Can't imagine tossing you over my shoulder would be very good for you right now, so we'll wait for them to bring a stretcher."
"Mmm." Your brows knit together. You... feel strange. A little warm, yes, but you've realized too late that you're far too hazy for the little you've had to drink. "Shanks," you mumble, flask clattering to the stone floor. A hand tentatively raises to rub your eyes. "W-what the hell, Shanks? What is this? You s-said it'd help..."
He hums, picking up the small vessel. "It will. It's gonna make moving you a lot less miserable. Didn't you just say it wouldn't be bad to feel less..?" You sputter, coughing weakly, the spasms wracking your slumped frame. "Careful now," he chides.
"Sh-shanks, seriously, what the fuck..? Why?" You choke out. He tilts his head. "Woulda just gone. So w-why..."
"You need the rest. Didn't know what condition you'd be in, but I wanted you out for a bit regardless, just in case. This is much kinder than haki, don't you think? I'm just being considerate, here." That playful tone of his is really pissing you off. "I do wish your first drink with me wasn't under these circumstances, but I'm glad you chose the gentle option."
Your eyes well up with frustrated tears, the man before you growing blurrier. "I d-don't under.... ssaand," you slur out pathetically. You cringe when you feel him touch you, his warm, calloused fingers gently wiping your tears away.
A soft sigh, the gentle, inviting sound almost aiding in the clouding of your head. "I'll do us both a favor and rip the bandaid off now," he says, voice firmer despite the gentle, careful way he's touching you. "You're coming with me," he says casually, like it's no big deal. "And this way, nothing has to happen to your crew. They're alive, yes, but they don't know that you are." His hand cups your face, thumb gently rubbing your cheek. You try to jerk away, but only manage a twitch.
No.
No!
You want to scream, to cuss him out, you want to struggle- but all you can manage is something between a choke and a whine. "Sh- sh-anks..." you rasp, tears streaming freely now. Your crew. Your Captain, your best friend..!
"There's no reason to cry, sweetheart," he chides, leaning forward as your eyes flutter shut. A soft kiss pressed against your forehead as everything fades. "You saved them."
Sucking Professor!Kento’s cock during office hours… sorry in advance I’m ovulating :/
“I just wanna see it.” You purr as you’re sinking to your knees before him, two curious hands reaching forward to undo the silver buckle of his belt.
“You just wanna see it?” He echoes incredulously, a laugh of disbelief immediately following his words.
You only hum in response, fiddling with the clasp of his belt, nothing but your feverish urgency guiding you. Nanami does little to stop your advances. In fact, part of him can’t stop himself from helping you as his slender, manicured hands are sliding down to take the belt off for you. Soon, the zipper of his dark gray slacks is being tugged down, eventually revealing the prominent tent beneath the fabric of his Calvin Klein briefs.
Nanami’s breath hitches discernibly when you pull at his waistband, unsheathing his swollen cock. The blushing tip drips with precum, kissing his head in a slick mess. His fruitless protests were long forgotten, somewhere so far gone, never to be seen again. And from the looks of it, Nanami’s body is working against him and he can’t find it within himself to stop it.
You don’t miss the way he sucks in a tight breath, exhaling a shaky whimper as the cool draft of the lecture hall kisses the swollen head of his cock, his chest shuddering with each ensuing breath. Almost instinctively your hand is wrapping around the thick base before languidly dragging your fist up. “You… you said you just wanted to see it– fuck.” He breathes as his lips part, labored breaths falling from his slacked jaw.
“Did I?” You hum, feign confusion dripping from your tone as you loll out your tongue, pretty rivulets of saliva spilling from it, coating the head of his cock in a lewd, glossy sheen. Nanami can only nod slightly, mouth wide as you begin to stroke him again with the slick of your saliva. He’s rolling his hips forward, chasing your fleeting touch.
You smile sweetly, “I must've forgotten.”
With your wide eyes boring holes, you inhale deeply before slowly lowering your head onto him, taking him into your honeyed mouth with a hum of satisfaction. He’s sweet, almost like a bitter honey. Your eyes flutter shut as you swallow around him, gagging sweetly as the tip of his cock brushes the entrance to your throat.
He’s gasping, face contorting in his overwhelming pleasure as you toy with his heavy balls, your other hand tugging at his pretty cock. “Mmph you can’t just—fuck… w-what if someone sees?” Nanami protests while peering down at you through the fallen strands of blonde that adorn his forehead, his scrunched face blushing with crimson.
Your sweet lips drag along the warm skin of his swollen balls, sloppy kisses left in your wake. “No one comes to your office hours anyway.” You gibe, your teasing hand working steadily at his stiff, drooling length. Nanami gapes in response, his head delirously craning back to dangle over his shoulders, a choked whimper on the tip of his tongue.
He hardly even notices the subconscious spread of his thighs as he accommodates to your keening sense of vehemence. Truthfully, he’d only be lying to himself if he said he hasn’t imagined you on your knees for him just like this. How can he not? Maybe it’s the way you saunter around campus in the skimpiest outfits he has ever seen, your pretty tits and plush thighs on display, practically spilling out of the fabric. Or even the way you ‘accidentally’ email him files of the most debauched images of yourself.
But, Professor!Kento isn’t blameless. He definitely shouldn’t have saved those files so that he could slowly construct his own corrupt file of you — a handpicked selection of your most sacred parts, stored away on his work laptop. Between classes he finds himself growing achingly hard at the fleeting thought of you tucked beneath his desk with his cock against your tongue, pathetically stifling his moans as he grades quizzes for his unsuspecting students.
Oh, and there were the videos too...
He can vividly describe them from memory. In fact, the video that made his cock the hardest was the one of you in your dorm room, slouched against your headboard, completely bare with your legs spread as you ran your slick fingers between your swollen lips. The flashback of the camera even caught the subtle gleam of your arousal, gossamers of your essence stretching and snapping between your fingers like shiny, mouthwatering cobwebs.
With your phone propped against a stuffed animal, you huffed out small breaths and moans as you shamelessly groped your tits. Mouth gaped as you tugged at your hardened nipples, rolling them between the pads of your fingers.
Over and over again, Nanami replayed that video, shamelessly zooming into your pretty pussy to get a better view of the way your sloppy hole swallowed your fingers, imagining it was him instead. He even synced his moans with yours as he fucked his hand that night, shiny beads of precum slipping from the angry head of his cock and dribbling down his nimble fingers.
And of course you claimed that you must’ve mistaken the file for your thesis. You’d think after the third time you’d learn not to keep your nudes in the same vicinity as your schoolwork... right?
Whoops.
“I see the way you look at me, Mr. Kento… you’re a smart man but not very discreet” you taunt, twisting your wrist slightly as you near the head, an incredulous gasp tumbling past his lips, “wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew.”
He’s whimpering wantonly as he bucks his hips toward your face, gaunt knuckles turning a pale white as he grips the armrests of his swiveling leather chair. “It’s not my f— fault, y’know that…” he breathes.
The smile that mars your face is almost sick, your slick lips curling into the most bewitched grin he has ever seen. It nearly has him spilling cum all over your pretty face with a guttural groan and a stutter of his hips.
“Guess it’s also not your fault that you lecture a room full of students with this cock hard like that either, right? Don’t even care enough to cover yourself up when you teach… must want everyone to know.” You're not letting up, your fist tightening slightly as you force precum from the swollen head of his cock. Warm, pearlescent beads drip in rivulets down your slick fingers.
You lean forward, darting your tongue out to chase his seed as he runs down your knuckles. The wet, hot muscle drags along your fist as you collect his arousal. “Mmm my professor’s gettin’ soo wet for me… look at the mess you’re making,” you observe as you smear the remaining precum along his cock. “wonder what my friends’ll think when I tell them… they’ll be so mad at me. M’always talkin’ about you y’know.” You giggle girlishly, admitting to your slight infatuation.
He throbs in your hand at your honeyed words, the vein that runs along the underside of his of his cock swollen and pulsating as you beckon him toward an inevitable orgasm. “Oh, fuuuck…” Nanami gasps, eyebrows furrowing as he struggles to engage in your repartee, “m’gonna cum if you keep talkin’ to me like that… knew you had a nasty little mouth.” He admits.
You can’t help the fruitless clamp of your thighs at his comment, arousal seeping from your cunt, ruining your pretty laced panties. As you take him back into your mouth with a soft moan, swallowing around him like it’s the last meal you’ll ever have, the subtle roll of your hips as you attempt to relieve yourself doesn't go unnoticed.
Nanami thinks you’re the prettiest thing ever, like nothing he’s ever seen. He’s not entirely sure what it is about you that makes all the blood in his body rush for the head of his cock. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so bright, sharp-witted, and unlike many of his other students, you care about your life beyond university. Or it could even be the simple fact that he’s so deeply infatuated with you. Almost to the point it physically pains him.
More often than not, he’ll catch himself scanning the classroom for you before his lessons, hoping to find you in a row close to the front. When he eventually spots you, shamelessly, his gaze envelops you, mind racing as he imagines all the depraved things he’d do if given half the chance. God, especially the days you come to class repping your school’s apparel in those godforsaken athletic shorts from the university bookstore, the curve of your ass peeking from beneath.
You don’t ever mind when he keeps you well after class is over, commending you for your hard work and impressive grades, accompanied by lingering glances and fleeting touches. It’s hard to ignore the sickening sense of attraction you feel toward him. Maybe because he’s the answer to your most impure fantasies.
Nanami’s stomach knots when you peer up at him from between his legs, your sweet eyes like daggers. “Want you to cum in my mouth… on my tongue,” you’re humming sweetly as you loll out you tongue, his leaking head resting snuggly against it, “I’ll swallow it all.” You’re gently tapping him on the plush center of your tongue now, encouraging his looming orgasm.
His hips stutter as you jerk his cock against your tongue, all of his pretty boy moans and sighs of pleasure like kindle to a flame. “Yeah, f— fuck, yes… want me to cum in that p-pretty mouth?” He groans.
You nod eagerly before sitting higher up on your knees, preparing yourself to swallow everything he has to offer. Nanami gasps when his cock begins to twitch against your tongue. The vibration of your pleasured hums and coos is what's forcing several warm, translucent spurts of cum down the back of your slutty little throat.
His mouth gapes as you swallow it all just like you promised. You even stick out your clean tongue afterwards as proof. Nanami is bewildered as his chest heaves. “What the fuck.” He whispers more to himself than anything.
He watches intently as you clean yourself up, readjusting your disheveled hair and clothes before gathering your scattered textbooks and belongings. You sling your backpack over your shoulders before awkwardly looking down at your feet, “Uh, I’ll be late for physics… see you tomorrow?” You question.
He nods understandably. “What time are you done with classes today?”
“4:30.”
He grins wickedly. “Meet me back here at 4:45… wanna show you somethin’ else.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Don't let him catch you wearing his clothes, unless you want him relentlessly tailing you for the rest of the day until you both go to sleep. It's one thing to put his shirt on to go to bed, but it's a whole other thing to wear it in broad daylight, while cleaning the house, cooking, folding and putting away your laundry, etc. He will follow you and try to corner you as you make your way around, trying to get all these things finished. You have to be very strong-willed in order to duck under his arms and escape him when he tries to seduce you by caging you against the wall. It doesn't deter him when you leave him standing there with his hands still planted on the wall. He laughs it off, mutters something under his breath about you being a tease and keeps chasing you, his prize.
Cooking is the hardest thing to do in his clothes. You're literally working with fire, sharp knives, and multitasking it up, while he's clinging to you and whispering in your ear all the filthy things he wants to do to you while you wear his shirt. You're crying your eyes out while you cut an onion and when you ask him to watch the pot, he Toji Taxes you. Says, "Yeah, sure, I'll stir... For two kisses and a squeeze." Unbelievable, but you need that help, so with a much called for roll of your stinging, bleary eyes, you make your way to him and let him take what he wants in exchange for his assistance. After one very long squeeze to your boob over his shirt and two kisses, he happily has a wooden spoon in his hand. Indulging him in his demands only fueled his desire to get you back in his grasp. It's that damn shirt, it fits like a short dress on you. Another thing he loves is that if you reach high enough for something, he gets a peek at the mere pair of underwear you're sporting under it.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ When it rains, good luck getting this bear of a man off of/away from you. It's hard enough to get out of bed on a daily basis because of how he constantly drags you back until he's ready to get out of bed, but rainy days are something else entirely. It's cold, the sky is gloomy, everything is wet, and worst of all... the chances of getting wet socks are much, much higher. It's not his favorite, but the one thing that makes it all better is you, so his clinginess is on another level—it's really like he's being powered by the storm.
He loves when your schedules align during this kind of weather. Neither of you has to leave the house for work, so there are no alarms set and you both wake up at your own times. Days like this transition from being wrapped up in each other until your stomachs start growling, to putting on big sweaters that smell like him, so that you can run to the car together through the heavy rain, to get something to eat. Once you return, you make that same run through the rain to get back to your home and you both head straight for the bedroom, where you are once again made his prisoner and caged in his arms for the duration of your afternoon nap.
He doesn't want to leave the bed anymore, and that extends to him not wanting you to leave either, even when you say you have to pee. "Hold it, mama. We're still sleeping." "I've been holding it for half an hour." "Shh... If you last the whole hour, we'll go make that coffee you were chirping about, earlier." He definitely chides you when you can't fall asleep later at night, but is more than ready to help you in any way that expedites the process.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ With how long you've been together, it's to be expected that you feel safe around Toji, but there are just moments where he stands back and thinks about the things you do that demonstrate how emotionally and physically comfortable you are with him. He's glad that you see him as your confidant and that you don't feel the need to dial down your feelings, just so that he can easily digest what is going on with you. He's a strong man, he can handle your tears of varying emotions, so, when you come home from a terrible day at work or you feel like you are losing your mind, because nothing is going right, he openly invites you to plop yourself on him and just lie there until you're ready to talk out what has you feeling the way you do. You don't have to say anything until you are ready, but if his presence comforts you and helps you relax a little more, he prefers that you seek him out for solace.
The physical aspect of feeling safe around him is shown in many ways, like when you fall asleep on him or even just fall asleep around him. You trust that he will look out for you during these moments of vulnerability and he does. He can easily tell when a nightmare is preventing you from getting good sleep and he does not wait for you to wake up in tears to comfort you, because what is being abruptly woken up, to enduring uncontrollable fear your mind creates?
When you go out together, even just being subtly maneuvered so that you are walking on the inside of the sidewalk, makes you feel protected. You already get automatic scary bear privilege with him, so you rarely feel like you are endangered by others, but the little things he does are very much considered and appreciated, too. Like, when you're walking through a large crowd and he holds your hand tight or he hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, so that you don't get lost. Or when he switches places with you and becomes a barrier between you and the group of sketchy looking men walking by.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ This bear loves when you fly at him like a dart and tackle him or at least try to tackle him after a long day of not seeing each other. Sometimes he'll stumble back on purpose just to make you laugh when he says something along the lines of "woah there, pretty girl. We almost went through the wall." It's gotten to be a routine for whenever you come home from work before him. As soon as he shuts the door, he's silently and slowly turning around, throwing a smirk at you in anticipation of you jumping on him. Sometimes, he crouches down slightly and scoops you up before you even have the chance to try and knock him over. The way you laugh as he carries you back to where you were lying on the couch, while he rapid fires kisses onto your face, is everything. This is definitely one of his favorite parts about coming home to you.
Before anything, you read Toji's body language, because sometimes there are days that don't call for this kind of silliness. Like when the door shuts, signaling that he's finally home, but he lets out a tired, heavy sigh. You greet him in a much calmer manner, simply walking up to him and asking him how his day went and if he wants to freshen up before he eats dinner—questions of that sort—while still being mindful of not overwhelming him with too many of them. It's very much about reading his mood, but also attempting to lift it by doing things like reminding him that he's about to eat one of his favorite meals, even when you know he knows, because the entire house is flooded with the aroma, or telling him about a new little food spot that you saw on your way home from work and suggesting you go try it together sometime.
Most of the time, you're able to lighten up his mood, and if it's not before you go to the bedroom, it's while you're lying in bed together, getting ready to go to sleep. Quiet investigative murmurs reach his ears, while his head rests on your chest. You play with his hair to ensure that he feels calm and secure enough to talk this out with you, and he usually does cave and spills what's on his mind. It's mainly tiredness and work being a stressful hassle at times, inevitably preventing him from getting home to you when he's supposed to. He feels better once he gets it all off his chest and sleeps like a cub, attached to you, as always.
NSFW Below
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Dirty bear, dirty bear, dirty bear! He has more wet dreams about you than he would ever admit. It makes him feel ridiculous, given the consistency and then some, of the amount of times you and him have sex in a week. His mind is so greedy, already cluttered with images and moments with you, yet it continues to create more scenarios while he sleeps, giving him these "humbling experiences". Sometimes he has to get up in the middle of night—under the guise of going to use the bathroom—to change his boxers, because he ruined them with an involuntary overflow of cum and he needs to hide the evidence. It's something he gets all bashful and "c'mon, Toji..." about, while he's cleaning himself up, but when he catches you in the middle of experiencing a wet dream, he thinks it's the hottest thing ever. For a few seconds, it's just you grinding against the covers, quietly mumbling his name, before you still, again. And oh, he's a hypocrite. He will tease the living hell out of you about it when you wake up, his sleep ridden voice bombarding you with questions like... "How'd you sleep?" "Dream anything interesting?" "Who was there?" "What did I do that had you all riled up?" "Was dream me realistic enough to make you cum?"
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ This enormous, "intimidating man"—in the words of others—does not mind at all if you wake him up in the middle of the night because you need him. Especially, if you wake him up by pressing soft, butterfly kisses to his lips. He's willing to do anything you ask of him if that's how you ask for it. All it takes is a sultry, whispered "Please," from you and he's sitting up, getting ready to fulfill your needs. He doesn't even need to ask you what you need, the way you flip over to lay on your stomach and raise your oversized shirt over your hips, revealing your panties to him, tells him everything.
Toji is sure that this is just going to lull both of you back to sleep, but he does it for your sake. He goes for the usual position that these spontaneous sparks of nightly desire call for—prone bone. Even during the early hours of morning, with both of you still half asleep, the act keeps its intimacy. His face is pressed close to the side of yours, his nose brushing your cheek as sloppy, lazy kisses meet your skin. His hands go to the backs of yours, interlacing his fingers with yours on your pillow.
Short, languid rolls of his hips against you are what you receive, and it's enough, because your body is so sensitive after having just woken up, that it tricks you into feeling like he's giving you way more. It's all quiet, shuddered breathing, until you release the cutest little whimpers and cries into your pillow, once you cum. The way your cunt clenches and spasms around his cock has him releasing deep groans into your ear, as he nears his own climax. Slightly more punctuated thrusts that jolt you into the mattress and heavier breaths, are followed by thick spurts of cum that brim your walls. For a second or two, you feel like he might break your fingers from how hard he's squeezing them, but the pain vanishes, and you're distracted from the fact that it was ever there when his arms envelop you and his lips smear wet kisses over the side of your face, again. A quiet check in is conducted, and when you confirm that you're fine and you feel good, he fully relaxes and just slumps on you. You both end up falling back asleep just like that.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ He loves having hush hush sex at least once a week. He takes you out to places where there are lots of people—a restaurant, for example—he'll move his chair so that he's sitting beside you, and he'll start touching you under the table. He relishes in the fluctuation of your composure, the way you nibble on your lip while nervously looking around, how your eyes shut tightly just before you shudder out a sigh and let your head hang, your knuckles protruding as much as they can without tearing through your skin.
The sight of you quickly spending all your grounding techniques, goes straight to his dick, and it's not long before things are moved to the bathroom. He won't do the whole, i'll meet you in the bathroom in five minutes, scene. He really doesn't care who sees you two, so he's dragging you along with him to the men's bathroom, hand in hand. He'll check to see if it's all clear, and if it is, he'll pull you into the bathroom and lock the door, immediately pinning you to the door. You're lured into the sloppiest make out session ever. While one hand is bunching up your dress, the other is going under it to feel up your chest and the rest of your torso. Then the bumping against the door begins and your moans are being shushed by him. "Your pretty moans are for me, right?" "Mhm." "Keep it that way. No louder than this, or i'll stuff my fingers in your mouth so no one gets to hear them."
Of course the people outside know what you did. It's a couple coming out of the men's bathroom together, and the woman is clinging to her man, while she walks back to her table with very obviously trembling legs. Once Toji helps you get back into your seat, he digs into his lukewarm meal, as if nothing ever happened. He smiles all lovingly as you pick up your fork with a shaky hand and start eating as well.
– pairings: zoro x f!reader, law x f!reader, sanji x f!reader
– sfwish
– summary: caught in a heated moment, he finally tells you how he feels.
“You are unbeatable.” You hissed, “yet I continue to challenge you every damn time I get.”
“Any why is that?” He smirked.
“It’s because I hate you.”
“Y’wanna know something?” He asked darkly. You rolled your eyes, ignoring the intimidating feeling you got when he pinned you against a wall. “I think I hate you more. And I’m gonna show you how much.”
Zoro wasn’t bothered by your statement, nor did he give a fuck whether or not you hated him. What mattered at that moment was the intensity between you two; and, it was palpable.
“Show me what?” You asked.
“How much I want to wipe that smug look off your face.” He growled into your ear. “Or how much I want to tie your wrists with my sash and fuck that defiant mouth until you cry.”
Annoyed, you rolled your eyes, “is this a game to you?”
“It is,” Zoro whispered, kissing the curve of your neck. “And I’m going to win.”
“And what does that mean?” You demanded. “I’m not afraid of you.” You whispered your last statement and gave him an angry look, hoping to convince him that you indeed were not afraid.
You were just pissed off, and he knew that.
Law’s piercing gaze eyed you curiously, wondering among all of the people he had to fight it was you.
“You should be scared.” He growled, letting go of one of your wrists. He slowly ran his fingers down your cheek and shoulders. “But…” he trailed, twirling his fingers at the hem of your pants, “you like this.”
“N-no-” you started.
Law kissed you roughly, knowing you were going to lie. “You like hating me, you like how I hate you.”
“Fuck you, Law.” You whispered. His lips ghosted over yours as he let you go, not stopping you from running away.
“If you hate me so much, stay and prove it.” He challenged. “If you run, you’re wasting both of our times.”
Sanji’s eyes, normally warm and happy, were replaced by something else. They were burning with desire that you couldn’t identify, and it bothered you.
“Hate me all you want,” you shot back. “I don’t care.”
Sanji smirked. “You want to know why I hate you?” Your breath hitched as he tightened his hold, briefly reminding you who had the upper hand in the situation. “I hate how you know we can be something more…” he whispered, softening his tone. “…that there is more to life than us constantly going against each other’s throats.”
“Sanji-” you breathed.
“Prove to me.” He cooed, “prove that we can be together.” He let you go, observing. Instead of walking away, you fiercely grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss.
“Good girl,” he murmured, wrapping his hands around your waist, “you are such a good girl.”
– pairings: zoro x f!reader, law x f!reader, sanji x f!reader
– sfwish
– summary: caught in a heated moment, he finally tells you how he feels.
“You are unbeatable.” You hissed, “yet I continue to challenge you every damn time I get.”
“Any why is that?” He smirked.
“It’s because I hate you.”
“Y’wanna know something?” He asked darkly. You rolled your eyes, ignoring the intimidating feeling you got when he pinned you against a wall. “I think I hate you more. And I’m gonna show you how much.”
Zoro wasn’t bothered by your statement, nor did he give a fuck whether or not you hated him. What mattered at that moment was the intensity between you two; and, it was palpable.
“Show me what?” You asked.
“How much I want to wipe that smug look off your face.” He growled into your ear. “Or how much I want to tie your wrists with my sash and fuck that defiant mouth until you cry.”
Annoyed, you rolled your eyes, “is this a game to you?”
“It is,” Zoro whispered, kissing the curve of your neck. “And I’m going to win.”
“And what does that mean?” You demanded. “I’m not afraid of you.” You whispered your last statement and gave him an angry look, hoping to convince him that you indeed were not afraid.
You were just pissed off, and he knew that.
Law’s piercing gaze eyed you curiously, wondering among all of the people he had to fight it was you.
“You should be scared.” He growled, letting go of one of your wrists. He slowly ran his fingers down your cheek and shoulders. “But…” he trailed, twirling his fingers at the hem of your pants, “you like this.”
“N-no-” you started.
Law kissed you roughly, knowing you were going to lie. “You like hating me, you like how I hate you.”
“Fuck you, Law.” You whispered. His lips ghosted over yours as he let you go, not stopping you from running away.
“If you hate me so much, stay and prove it.” He challenged. “If you run, you’re wasting both of our times.”
Sanji’s eyes, normally warm and happy, were replaced by something else. They were burning with desire that you couldn’t identify, and it bothered you.
“Hate me all you want,” you shot back. “I don’t care.”
Sanji smirked. “You want to know why I hate you?” Your breath hitched as he tightened his hold, briefly reminding you who had the upper hand in the situation. “I hate how you know we can be something more…” he whispered, softening his tone. “…that there is more to life than us constantly going against each other’s throats.”
“Sanji-” you breathed.
“Prove to me.” He cooed, “prove that we can be together.” He let you go, observing. Instead of walking away, you fiercely grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss.
“Good girl,” he murmured, wrapping his hands around your waist, “you are such a good girl.”
cw: fem!reader, hair pulling for nami's, semi public making out/heavy petting
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Law - wearing glasses
You had hid your glasses from Law at first, worried that he would find you less attractive, but when he sees the glasses case in your room, he begs you to put them on.
You two have been relaxing in bed together, and innocent kisses quickly escalate to heavy petting. You're straddling him, rocking your hips against his. You start to think you might cum without even taking your clothes off, but Law's firm grip on your hips stops your movement.
“Can you do something for me?” he asks, leaning over to rummage in the bedside table drawer. When he pulls out your glasses case, you go to protest but he speaks before you can open your mouth
“Babe just put them on for me. I want to see them on,” he says. You haven't noticed yet, but he's already hard thinking about what you'd look like. You groan and take them from his hand.
“I don't get why you want me to put them on. It's not like I'm any hotter with them,” you say as you push them onto your face. Law goes to respond, but after seeing you in glasses he freezes. You begin to feel self-conscious because of Law's lack of response. However, you're shocked when you reach your hand up to take off your glasses, and Law shouts out ‘no’.
You're initially confused about his outburst but Law is quick to recover and pulls you in a kiss. His tongue pushes into your mouth against yours and his hands begin to wander your body. When he pulls back for air, he explains himself.
“you look so fucking sexy in those. Please let me fuck you. Can you feel how hard I am?”
Nami - red lipstick
Date night between you and Nami was always special, but this time you've decided to get ready together. The silence had been tension-filled, With both of you keeping an eye on each other as you went about your beauty routine.
You're putting your makeup on, and you've got it down to a science and move freely, stealing glances at the woman sitting next to you. You turn back to add the final touch: a red lipstick. You're so focused on getting the application right that you don't notice Nami is watching you.
As the stick glides over your lips, Nami can't take her eyes off it. The movement is simple, but it has her stomach fluttering. As soon as you finish and turn to her for approval, she pulls you into an open-mouthed kiss. The kiss smudges the lipstick and transfers onto her skin. She sees you with smudged lipstick around your perfect pout and feels her soaked panties clinging to her pussy. She has lipstick smudged on her face too, and it gives her an idea.
“Can you put some more on, baby?” she asks, handing you the lipstick tube. You nod and obey her. She watches intently, running her fingers through your hair as you put on another layer of red lipstick. Once you finish, Nami switches from playing with your hair to gripping it and pulling you towards her bare shoulder.
“wanna leave some other pretty messes on me?” she asks. You don't give a verbal response, instead deciding to attach your mouth to your lover's neck as she lets out a gasp.
Robin - standing up for yourself
Robin's favourite thing to do is observe the always loud, busy environment of the ship and her favourite subject to study is you. She keeps her eye on you as you spend some alone time on the deck, soaking in the sun.
Sanji comes out to talk to you, and your mood plummets. You and Sanji generally got along, but his comments and behaviour had been getting too much to handle recently. You try to let him down nicely, tell him to behave, but when he doesn't - and Nami's not around to smack him - you finally snap.
Robin is intrigued; she's never seen you give anyone this level of attitude. She finds herself excited by the aggressive tone of your voice, which she doesn't get to hear very often. The sharp glare you're giving Sanji as you talk him down is so sexy that Robin almost wishes it was directed at her. Sanji gets himself together and apologises when he realises that he's genuinely upset. You, still angry, just nod and storm off.
Robin follows you into the girls’ room. Nami is busy with Usopp, so the chances of being interrupted are low. When she catches up to you, she checks that you're ok before leaning down to kiss you.
“I like seeing you stand up for yourself. You're so confident. it's so hot”, she says as she pulls you towards her bed. “it makes me want to let you take charge”, she says, and it makes your skin tingle. She's usually more of a service top, but the opportunity to see your aggressive side is too good to pass up. She lies down on the bed, beckoning you to take a seat on her tongue.
“come ride my face.”
Zoro - training together
Zoro reluctantly agreed to train you after you followed him around the Sunny all day, begging him for help. You felt you needed the extra training - and being pinned down by Zoro doesn't sound like a bad use of an evening. He's the only person aboard the ship who doesn't know you like him and you want to use that fact to your advantage sometimes.
You already have the basics of fighting down due to strawhat experience so Zoro suggests going straight to sparring. Zoro is much stronger than you, and he refuses to go easy on someone he has genuine respect for. He knew that he would be pinning you down pretty frequently at first but what he didn't anticipate is how that would make feelings stir inside him that he hadn't felt towards you before.
By the fourth round, you were starting to pick up on Zoro's techniques, and Zoro was feeling relieved about that fact hoping that now he could stop adjusting his hip placement so you wouldn't feel hard cock against you when he pinned you. However, when you do finally get one over on him, you land straddling him with your ass resting just above his bulge.
You freeze above him, and he knows you've felt it. He panics at first, and he accidentally shifts his hips. The friction causes you both to moan slightly. He wants to apologise, but then notices how you're looking at him. You look desperate, like you might cry if he doesn't touch you soon.
“Do you want some help?” you ask, hovering above him. He doesn't know what to say. Are you asking if he needs help getting up or if he needs help with his erection? Zoro breathes out your name and a yes. You grind down against his crotch and bend down to kiss him.
Zoro lifts his hips to help you both and growls against your lips.
“We should go somewhere more private. Anyone could walk in on us here.”
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