Marco x GN Reader x Ace
TW: Age gap ship - polyam
SFW
WC: 1,300
Opening the door to your room you saw Ace spread out on the bed, legs hanging off the edge, boots still on, hat thrown over the chair, and a book in his hands. There was a look of concentration on his face, only broken for a brief moment when he waved his hand in greeting. “Have you seen Marco?” you asked and peered around the room, seeing no sign of your other partner.
“No, and I doubt we will for a few hours.” Ace sighed and set the book down on the nightstand before turning to face you, leaning on his elbow with his brows furrowed. You sighed along with him.
“He’s still in the office isn’t he?”
Ace nodded.
“Marco needs to take more breaks… This is insane, he can’t keep doing all his work as a doctor and as the captain, he’s taking on too much,” you said as you flopped down next to Ace, feeling an arm snake around you and his chin coming to rest on your shoulder.
“Yeah, I agree, but he’s such a stubborn old buzzard that blames himself for everything that happened.” You could see a look of sadness cross his face, replaying the events of Marineford over and over.
“Come on, let's go pay him a visit. He can’t brush off both of us, can he? We’ll bring him some snacks and tea, remind him he’s not a machine,” you said as you leaned over enough to kiss Ace’s freckled cheek before pulling yourself up off the bed.
–
Armed with a tray of drinks and snacks, you and Ace headed to Marco’s office. He never took up the captain’s chamber; he just didn’t have the heart to work there, to be reminded why he was the new captain, the wounds still not healed; wounds that deep would emotionally scar him for years to come. You tried not to think of it like that, but you and Ace hadn't been there half as long as Marco and hadn’t known Pops as he had.
All you could do was try and lift him when his heart became too heavy. You knocked on the door with no reply. Another knock, still nothing. Ace rolled his eyes and handed you the tray before he just opened the door, barging in. “Birdbrain!” Ace called and got a very sleepy look in return from Marco.
“Oh, I didn’t hear you, yoi,” Marco hummed, leaning back in his chair watching as you and Ace came inside. Ace walked over to the desk and started to move papers and maps, earning himself a scornful look and a tsk from Marco who kept trying to pull things back.
“No more work tonight,” you piped up, helping Ace clean the table before Ace retrieved the tray of snacks from its perch on the side table, setting it on his desk instead, Marco’s little personal mini office when he brought work back to their room with him.
“I still have so much to do, I’ll stop in an hour.” Marco stretched over the desk to grab at a log book, just to have his hand swatted by you and Ace at the same time.
“No, it’s time to rest, have a midnight snack with us,” Ace said firmly, using his own commander voice on Marco.
“See, midnight isn’t bad.” Marco was still trying to protest as you pulled up a chair closer to him, Ace doing the same as he started to help himself to the snacks you’d brought.
“Marco, you need to take it easy, you’ve taken on so much. Too much.” You placed your hand on his, stopping it from reaching for his pen. Feeling your fingers lace together, you gave him a concerned smile.
“I don’t have time to rest. There’s still so much to do, yoi.” Ace added his hand to the two of yours and gave Marco a firm look, nose wrinkled as he huffed.
“You won’t do anyone any good if you work yourself to death, I don’t think the phoenix will be much help then.”
“He’s right Marco,” you agreed and saw how Marco slouched in his seat, knowing you were both right and not liking his partners teaming up on him. He was such a stubborn man, trying to carry everything on his shoulders.
All together, Marco was trying to carry his old duties, new duties, the grief, the guilt, everything. He was carrying a bigger weight than anyone could ever imagine and you just wished you could lighten his load.
Marco’s half-lidded eyes stared at the tray of treats, watching steam from the tea twist and turn in the air. When he breathed in to center himself he must’ve gotten a whiff of the tea, his favorite, the smell lingering in the room before he let out a shaky sigh, nodding defeatedly. “Okay, I’ll call it a day.”
“That’s a good birdy,” Ace teased, leaning in and kissing Marco’s cheek, as you did the same on the other side.
Pulling away and seeing the normally cool and collected captain with a pink hue across his cheeks was cute, as was his smile that just grew as he enjoyed being the center of attention.
“You work so hard, you can have breaks. Everyone understands Marco, no one expects you to be used to it yet, to be over it.” You cupped his cheek, feeling him lean into your palm as your thumb brushed his skin. “Let us help you a little more, yeah?”
Another sigh but at least Marco nodded. Ace added the sugar and milk to Marco’s tea and handed it to him. He gladly took it and took a sip, trying to get absorbed in the moment, to just relax and fade away on calmer waters within his mind. Ace handed you another cup and you smiled back at him.
“I know, I know, I just...” Marco sipped his drink again, trying to organize his thoughts before you set down your cup, linking arms with him.
“I know Marco, but you are trying to fill literally gigantic shoes. You're doing great, you're an amazing captain.” You leaned against his arm, feeling his shoulders sag, relaxing slowly. You could tell he was struggling with his inner turmoil but appreciated your words.
Ace, with a mouthful of snacks, wrapped his arms around you both, swallowing his food before he kissed Marco’s cheek. “We are all going to be fine, we can do this as a team right?” Ace asked with a determined gleam in his eyes.
You watched as Marco let his gaze slip to the huge scar in the middle of Ace’s chest, thoughts churning within his mind. You nudged Marco, causing him to meet your eye, the lazy smile growing on his face when you held him tighter. “Riiight?” you prompted him, and he chuckled— such a lovely sound, you’d missed his laugh.
“Right, thank you both.” He wriggled himself loose, this time pulling you both against him, arms around you and Ace, nuzzling his cheek against yours. “I needed this, yoi,” Marco confessed as you and Ace kissed him on the cheek once more before sitting down and digging into the snacks you brought.
“We love you, so we will always be here to make sure you don’t overdo it,” Ace said and closed his eyes, you smiled enjoying the moment with your partners.
A/N - I'm a little (a lot) late on posting this, but here was my NSFW entry for the @op-xreader-zine!! I hope y'all have checked out all of the wonderful creations that we put together in there, and if you haven't already, please do! Please enjoy this little piece from me hehehe <3
WARNINGS: Sexual content, intoxication, drunk sex (consensual)
You stir slowly from sleep with a soft inhale, shifting amongst the warm, cotton covers that never fails to get tangled between your legs. The morning chill that settles over the castle hits your shoulder as it peeks out from the sheets, and you shiver, trying to tuck the fabric back up protectively. With a bleary crack of your eyelids, now roused beyond the point of falling back into slumber, they train onto the first thing in your line of sight. And, oh, what a sight it is. A smile lifts the corners of your mouth, gazing softly at your lover beside you.
His face is serene, the brow normally furrowed in thought and concentration now smooth and relaxed. A dangerous man, so beautiful in slumber. Seeing Mihawk like this, asleep and at peace beside you, his hand unconsciously pressing against the skin of your hip for contact, was something you’d never forget. No dreams disturb him, his breathing even and deep. Sleep holds him tightly.
Good, you thought, he certainly needed it.
Waking before the legendary swordsman is a rarity. He keeps strange hours, training and finding other ways to occupy his time around the castle when he isn’t out sailing the seas, and often rises early to tend to the garden. And so, you don’t squander this moment to gaze upon him with reverence.
Eventually, as if he can feel your stare, his eyes blink open, regarding you with a tenderness that has your heart beating hard. A low hum emanates from his mouth, and one hand reaches up to slowly caress your cheek.
“I’ll never get enough of this…” His mutter is breathy as he stirs. “Waking up and seeing such a lovely sight before me.”
You scoff, gently pushing his arm, but can’t help but agree to the statement. “Getting sappy in your old age, love?”
There’s something in the way he looks at you, thoughtful and quiet. “No. Just more honest.”
“Imagine that…” you hum, amused, before leaning forward to place a soft kiss to his lips. “I managed to make an honest man out of you after all. This anniversary is something special.”
You feel the smirk on his mouth as you lean in for a second, then a third kiss. He lingers, savoring the feeling just a moment more, before rising with a groan from the bed. There’s much to do today, but you look forward to every second of it.
Anniversary or not, with a castle so large, there was always something that needed doing. Sweeping, dusting, and all manner of other menial chores…and that was just to keep it clean. Even on a special day, such as today, these important things couldn’t be skipped. Laundry, dishes, the list went on. But you and your love went about it with a practiced patience. After so long, so many years together, the routine and domesticity of chores felt…comfortable. Almost fun.
Then on to the garden where the weeds needed trimming, and the many fruits and vegetables planted needed meticulous care and attention. Kuraigana’s harsh environment meant consistent tending to ensure they didn’t wither away and die. That was largely Mihawk’s responsibility—a pastime you knew he’d never openly admit to anyone outside of you or that red-haired rascal of a pirate, of course.
By the island’s standards, the morning was downright lovely; only the barest hint of a chill in the wind of an inky, oily, green-purple sky. Watching your husband tend to the plants with such gentleness never failed to make you smile. If only the rest of the world saw him as you could…
With a keen eye, the two of you inspected each crop. What was ripe ended up in the wicker basket hung from your arm, placed there with care by Mihawk as he perused the many vegetables you’d both grown there over the years. Each time you caught one another’s eye, warmth grew in your chest, little knowing smiles lifting your mouths. The serenity, the peace…you could think of no better setting for your anniversary.
Comfortable admiration and years of cultivated love eventually slid to coy intrigue, when the brush of his fingers against yours as he placed a bright red tomato into the basket lingered a bit longer than necessary. A touch so gentle. Chaste. Trailing down the length of your pinky with lazy intent, a tiny spark hits your chest. Mihawk’s eyes held a question behind them, watching with deep interest at what you might say or do to his touch.
Several times, his hands found your skin in some way or another through the morning. Never further than a ghostly, barely-there sensation. Fleeting. Testing. More akin to a promise than anything.
Oh, this was a familiar game. A favorite of yours.
Beyond a knowing, smoky stare, you refrained from visibly acknowledging his subtle advances. Instead, you ‘innocently’ returned the favor in kind, finding every excuse to touch him on the wrist or hand, even the back of his neck if you were to pass behind him. Naturally, Mihawk barely showed any reaction to the treatment, only the tiniest flutter of his eyelids to indicate he felt your fingers against his skin at all.
Each new touch built upon the last. Slowly, the earlier affection began to simmer, to bubble just under the surface. All morning this continued, even into the kitchen where you are now preparing dinner.
You chop and mince at your cutting board while he prepares the pots with water. Together, you’re an efficient team in the kitchen as you navigate the steps of the recipe, reaching around one another for the next ingredient or kitchen tool.
More touching. More not-so-subtle lingering stares. The man somehow even manages to find an excuse to show you how to ‘properly’ chop an onion, larger hands covering yours to demonstrate as his chest rests at your back, firm and warm. If he feels the shiver down your spine, he says nothing. Oh, he is good…
But two can play at this game. When you insist on him lifting you up to reach a particularly high-placed utensil—one that you really don’t require, given the recipe, but he doesn’t need to know that—the position places your ample chest flush with his face as you reach above him, giving quite a view if you did say so yourself. It’s tough to hide the pleased grin on your face, not having to look to know he’s staring. That penetrative gaze of his is practically palpable.
Minutes drag as you carefully dance around what you both know the other wants, the cooking of your dinner now little more than a stage to the building tension between you. The heat from the stove doesn’t help any either, fueling increasingly lewder thoughts, bolder touches, and even the occasional whispered promise of what the evening has in store for each other.
Finally, the food cooked and plated with care, you take your places across the table from one another. A small vase of flowers is between you; along with a single candle lit, the wax dripping down its side into the metal tray beneath; and mood decor that you barely even acknowledge amidst the heated stare you keep with your husband, taking in his handsome visage gluttonously.
You drink your wine, topping it off when the contents are gone. A good buzz would only make this all the better, you think.
Light conversation carries you through your meal, though the words hardly matter. Beneath it all is the palpable sexual tension that’s spent the past half dozen hours building between you. He eats delicately, expression denoting the indulgent eye-fucking no doubt happening in that head of his. A bite of your lip is the only sign that you’ve noticed.
Your plates sit empty after some time, and upon noticing, Mihawk stands from his chair, walking over to grab your plate alongside his and bringing them to the kitchen. When he returns, he’s still holding his wine, extending his hand to you as an invitation.
“Shall we end tonight in the parlor, love?” he asks, voice husky and eyes never straying from what—who—he wants most. That sexy little upward quirk of his lips is impossible to look away from.
Without a word, you return the smile with one of your own, placing your hand in his and following him further into the halls of the castle.
He doesn’t pounce immediately, but there’s no mistaking the intensity of his gaze on you as he sets the fireplace alight, flaming to life and matching the heat flowing through your veins. You stand on the fur rug as he moves around you, watching the flames lick upwards, heart beating hard in your chest. The feeling of his lips pressed to your shoulder makes you shudder, his free hand guiding down your arm delicately.
The moment is still, your breath loud in your ears, before hours of stewing in your own desire come to a head. The stuttered sigh against your skin is enough to indicate that Mihawk has reached his limit as well.
One by one, clothes are discarded to the floor, exposing skin for wandering lips and hands to touch and savor. The castle air is cold all around you, but the fireplace rages hot. Wine and lust cloud your mind, gasping when his teeth nip along your neck. Not to be outdone, your hands wander behind and between you, fingers stroking the silky skin of his cock. You smile at the sound of his pleased hum.
You turn in his arms, facing your husband, and thread your fingers through his dark hair, dragging his lips to yours in a hard kiss. He tastes of wine and spice, exotic and sinfully sweet. Impatience makes it all teeth and tongue, seeking and wanting. Mihawk is happy to return the enthusiasm in kind.
A surprised noise escapes your lips as he suddenly lifts you, pressing you close. With a bit of maneuvering, he’s lowered you to your back, the soft fur rug protecting it from the icy tiles of the castle floor. But your thoughts never stray from the Warlord as he settles himself over you, eyes raking in the sight of your nakedness. The wine makes his pupils large and shaky, but they still hold an abundance of admiration and heady desire. Reflections of the flames dance in his eyes, captivating you.
You’re well and truly drunk, you decide, body tingling as his lips suck and lick his way over your jaw and neck. Everything is too much, but in all the right ways. Soft, low moans are breathed into your ear, sending your mind haywire. Your legs wrap themselves around his waist, pulling him in, hoping he’ll understand what you were needing.
His hips shift, hands spreading your knees apart to open yourself to him. His tip presses to where you’re in most need of him, Your breath catches, the moment before he presses in feeling like a lifetime, before that blessed stretch tightens your lower half. He fits perfectly, your bodies so accustomed to one another that it feels like he’s home, deep inside of you. He’s still, gazing down at you with parted lips and a glazed, drunk stare.
His thrusts are slow, lackadaisical, as he savors you. Every penetration is a prayer, your unabashed moans their answer. With the wine heightening every sense, even this gentle pace is like fire burning through you, your sounds of pleasure matched by his own. Mihawk envelops you completely, body and soul, celebrating your lives together in the best way you knew how.
He’s all you can see when your eyes crack open. Golden eyes gaze back, missing not even a single moment as he fucks you deeply, passionately. His sweaty forehead presses to your own, sharing this moment of love and lust together. Higher and higher he takes you, his pace never quickening, his love never waning.
Your peak hits without warning, but it’s as soft as it is overwhelming, muscles shaking around his cock, triggering his own breathless release. His face creases with concentrated pleasure, hips pushing just a little deeper to ride out the waves as long as he can. You’re floating in a red haze with him, coming down from your passion bit by bit, the fireplace keeping you in a dopey state of bliss all the while.
You’re unsure how long you stay that way, him still seated inside you, sweat sticking your skin together. Words feel unnecessary, and so you both stay silent, basking in your post-sex glow. Soon enough, the logs would burn to ash, and the castle’s typical chill would cool you down.
But for now you lay beneath your husband, fingers stroking along his arms, eyes flitting across his face, burning this moment to memory so you’d never forget.
In your dreams, the two of you are free from these burdens. No more hushed voices, no more playing hide and seek, no more wounds from the past that get torn open over and over again. It's just the two of you, basking in the sunlight, dreaming underneath the cherry blossoms. It's a life in the absence of fear, dreaming of more than just a brighter tomorrow. A life where you could hold Denjiro’s hand without worries, where you didn’t have to let go of him, ever. A life where you could simply be.
a/n: one of the fics i've written for @op-xreader-zine (´⌣`ʃƪ) writing for Denjiro always has me swooning, he just has my whole heart. and the cherry on top is the cutest spot art by @tardiiart hehe!
word count: 1k
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Your eyes dart to the clock at the wall over and over again. He’s been gone for hours now and even though you knew you had nothing to worry about, your heart just wouldn’t keep quiet. Even after all these years, these thoughts would still crawl over you. What if he's found out? What if they saw right through his disguise? What if he didn't return safe and sound this time?
What if…
You let out a long sigh and rub your eyes. The darker the night, the more your thoughts wander off. When you close your eyes you can almost hear Denjiro’s soft chuckle and feel his soft kisses placed on your temples, taking away all your sorrows with the mere touch of his lips. His presence alone is enough to sweep your worries away in an instant.
The warmth of the kotatsu is making you sleepy. An empty cup of tea and a book are sprawled out in front of you on the table, together with a plate of half-peeled oranges that fill the room with a subtle citrus aroma. The oil lamp flickers and dips the whole room in soft shades of red and yellow. Your eyelids start feeling heavy. It surely wouldn’t hurt to close them, just for a minute or two…
Just a little longer until you can dance under the crescent moon of a free Wano again.
You sigh softly, your head resting on the wooden top of the kotatsu. The half-peeled orange rolls from the palm of your hand as you slowly drift off. It isn't the first time you've fallen asleep like that, waiting for Denjiro to come home to you. Something inside of you simply refuses to go to bed without him, no matter how many times he tells you that it’s fine, that he’ll be there in the morning. But the bed is cold and empty without him, so you’d rather stay up past midnight until you can hear his footsteps on the floor outside again.
Over the past few years you haven’t spent more than a few hours apart. You’re always side by side, never getting tired of each other. Even more, you could feel your heart yearning for Denjiro whenever he was out for one of the banquets that he dreaded so much, or for his nightly raids in the disguise of the thief Ushimitsu Kozo, robbing the filthy rich to give back at least something to the suffering citizens of Wano. Hidden in the shadows of the night and new names, the both of you did the best you could to fight for a liberated Wano.
In your dreams, the two of you are free from these burdens. No more hushed voices, no more playing hide and seek, no more wounds from the past that get torn open over and over again. It's just the two of you, basking in the sunlight, dreaming underneath the cherry blossoms. It's a life in the absence of fear, dreaming of more than just a brighter tomorrow. A life where you could hold Denjiro’s hand without worries, where you didn’t have to let go of him, ever. A life where you could simply be.
You hear a gentle, low voice calling out your name.
Just a little longer.
A warm hand on the small of your back, a veil of long blue hair falling over you, a barely there breath on your bare skin.
Please, let me dream just a little longer.
Soft kisses cover the back of your neck as a strong pair of arms wrap around you.
You blink slowly, your consciousness dancing on the blurred lines between dreams and reality. The soft voice of your loved one calls out for you, gently pulling you back from the land of slumber into his arms.
“Welcome home, my love,” you mumble, resting your head against Denjiro’s broad chest, letting him caress your cheek with his big hands. In between those palms is the safest place on Earth; you’d place your beating, aching heart in there if you could.
“Let’s get you to bed, hm?”
And just like that he scoops you up in his arms, gently, as if you were made of glass. You are too tired and too lovesick to protest; instead you sink deeper into his embrace, enjoying the feeling of safety and adoration wrapping around like a warm blanket. Denjiro chuckles softly when he notices the smile curling on your lips. Leaning down, he places a soft kiss on your forehead.
A few moments later you’re in your dimly lit chambers, the faint smell of peeled oranges still lingering in the air. Denjiro gently puts you down on the futon and throws a heavy blanket over you, tucking you in before he lays down besides you, propping himself up on one elbow, his head resting on his hand as he watches you with his fox eyes, his gaze dripping with love.
You turn around so you could lay on your side, snuggling against his broad chest and letting him wrap an arm around you to pull you closer to him. Both your hearts beat in unison.
“I dreamt about you,” you whisper, tracing your fingertips from his neck down to his collarbones. “Dreamt about us. How we’re gonna watch the cherry blossoms fall one day, catching them in our open palms.”
Denjiro hums quietly and pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.
“Told you, didn’t I? That I’d always find you, even in your dreams. I gave you a promise… and I intend to keep it for as long as the sun and the stars watch over us.” Denjiro lets out a soft sigh as he also falls asleep, holding you tight as if he never wants to let you go. “For as long as the cherry blossoms will bloom year after year, so will my love for you.”
This is the SFW fic I wrote for the @op-xreader-zine, with art from Calyptale!
Also posted on AO3 on 2023.09.20
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Rayleigh x Shakky x gn!Reader (no pronouns used)
Summary: Your girlfriend introduces you to her husband.
Content warnings : Modern AU, polyamory, flirting, kissing, alcohol drinking
Word count: 1k
- Double the sweetness
You are smitten. Positively, irredeemably in love with Shakky, as a matter of fact.
She had caught your eye during a trade fair a few months ago, stunningly beautiful and captivating her whole audience with her charming voice and intense gaze.
You had locked eyes with her a couple of times during her presentation but you weren’t hoping for more than a few stolen glances– you were neither a customer nor a prospect of the company she was advertising for, and this was a business-related setting so you weren't supposed to be here to flirt.
Shakky, on the other hand, saw no objection to pursuing the target of her desires in any situation. She'd walked straight to you afterwards and asked you if you had any further interest in what she was presenting.
You told her that you were here out of personal curiosity, and that your business didn’t need that kind of service. Contradictory feelings bubbling in your chest then, you had reluctantly went back to your company’s booth and were preparing to spend the rest of the afternoon brooding there, but Shakky came for a visit a little while later.
A mischievous smile curved her lips when she asked, “Personal curiosity, was it?”
Somewhat flustered, you simply nodded.
“Then we have something in common. Maybe we can arrange a rendez-vous so we can talk more about it?”
You blinked. Her words were smooth enough that they seemed innocuous within this context for someone who didn’t witness your previous exchange, but you had a hint there was more to it so you agreed to meet her again, not willing to waste another chance.
Over dinner that night, Shakky told you she was in an open marriage.
Though you never had multiple relationships at the same time, you knew you were polyamorous, so you were fine with things the way they were, and decided to give a shot at a relationship with her.
As it turned out, Shakky is an absolute sweetheart, and you fell for her hook, line and sinker in a matter of weeks. It’s long past the time when you were anxious on dates with her, but tonight is a special occasion so you’re a bit tense when you knock on the door to her house–that is, her and her husband’s, whom she’s introducing you to.
Shakky grins wide as she opens the door, and leans in for a sweet kiss.
You smile against her lips and answer in kind.
When she leans back, she nods for you to come in. “Sweetheart, let me introduce you to my husband,” she says as you follow her into the living room.
Said husband gets up from the couch upon your arrival. “I’m Rayleigh,” he says, politely bowing. “Pleasure to meet you.”
You’ve heard of him quite often, and he seems to be a nice guy. You weren’t quite prepared to meet such a handsome man, though. You clear your throat when you realize you’re staring a little, then bow in return. “(y/n). Pleasure’s all mine.”
Rayleigh gives you a quick once-over, grinning. “I can assure you it’s shared.”
Slightly flustered, you turn your gaze back to Shakky, whose knowing glance goes from her husband to you.
She smiles and offers, “Why don’t we have a drink?”
“I’ll take care of it.” Rayleigh nods.
You sit next to Shakky on the couch, and can’t help but observe her husband while he gets busy at the bar.
Tall, well-built, his brown vest cinching his waist and the dark blue sleeves of his button-up shirt showing his toned arms, a small smile curling his lips, half-hidden behind a curtain of mid-long silver hair.
“Sweetheart?”
You snap your head back towards your lover, slightly embarrassed. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
“That I’m glad to have you both here, and that I hope you’ll get along,” she says with a grin.
You softly smile. “I’m happy to be here too, and I see no reason why we shouldn’t.”
“That’s good,” Rayleigh says as he places two cocktails on the table. “She’s always been a good judge of character, and introduced me to the most wonderful people.”
You tilt your head in curiosity. “Is that so? Does it happen often?”
Rayleigh shrugs. “I wouldn’t say that often but still. Shakky’s lovers are always a delight to meet.” He brings his own drink and raises his glass. “To polycules!”
You exhale a delighted chuckle. “Yeah, that’s nice.” The drink helps you loosen up a little and you wonder why you were anxious in the first place.
Rayleigh is really charming, his voice warm and soothing as he chats and laughs at one or the other story.
Over dinner, Shakky gently teases you, getting you flustered over her compliments while she recounts the early days of your relationship with her.
You manage to avoid blushing too hard when you direct the conversation towards stories of her younger years together with Rayleigh, and find that you only want to know more about them, about him.
Rayleigh tells you he sometimes has other lovers, and he also happened to share a couple ones with her.
You manage to somewhat keep a straight face but this bit of information doesn’t fall onto deaf ears.
“I see why Shakky loves you so much,” Rayleigh says with a smile by the end of the meal.
“Oh, please.” You dismiss with a wave of the hand and a genuine chuckle. “She married you, and I get why too.”
Shakky slyly smiles. “What do you know? I just so happen to have excellent taste.”
You throw her a fondly exasperated glance, then meet Rayleigh’s eyes.
“Who am I to deny it?” He says cockily as he holds your gaze.
Oh. He’s a flirt, too? Your cheeks heat up a little and your lips curl a little upwards.
“Does anyone want dessert?”
Rayleigh looks back at you, smirking. “Something sweet? Oh, I think we’re all set.”
This is the NSFW fic I wrote for the @op-xreader-zine, with art from nastyhornz!
Also posted on AO3 on 2023.09.20
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Shanks x gn!Reader (no pronouns used)
Summary: Your girlfriend introduces you to her husband.
Content warnings : PWP, afab gender-neutral Reader (no pronouns used), post-timeskip (pre-Wano), alcohol drinking, kissing, groping, blowjob, penetrative sex (Reader receiving), cum shot
Word count: 2k
Over the past ten years you’ve made a name for yourself in the Underworld.
By now you have a good grasp of how deep it runs along with the kind of people it’s connected with all across the Blues, including the most feared pirates of the era. You’ve been at sea for long enough that you’re used to their codes, habits, and tendencies, and when it comes to trading with them, you trust your gut feeling because it’s never betrayed you.
Despite all this, one pirate remains inscrutable: Red-Haired Shanks.
You’ve been trading with him for years, yet you still can’t quite pin him down—not in the literal sense, though you wouldn’t mind either.
The man can be straightforward when he wants but he remains slippery, true to his reputation of powerful Yonkou under a relaxed facade. Such a strong energy, shrouded in mystery. Very handsome to boot, and sometimes flirtatious too, tiptoeing around the fine line between business and pleasure.
You’ve wondered what it’d be like to cross said line, too... To be fair, it’s pretty clear you’d been pining for each other for a while now, and it’s only out of professional caution that you never initiated anything. Still, it’s always a pleasant surprise when you answer your den den mushi to hear his voice. Civil and cautious as ever, you keep the conversation to the bare minimum.
“What do you want?”
“A headcount, and the whereabouts of anyone you can get currently residing on Hachinosu. A few millions if you’re in.”
You purse your lips and squint—on a weird stroke of luck, you just so happen to have most of the intel he’s looking for. “How many is a few?”
The den den mushi slightly smiles. “Fifty.”
Your eyebrows shoot up in delighted surprise. “You’ve got a deal.” You provide the name of a quiet port town along with a date and time. Once you get acknowledgement you hang up, spine tingling with excitement at the prospect of meeting with him soon.
On the agreed upon day, Shanks waits for you on the outskirts of town, a black cape wrapped around him with the hood up to conceal his identity. The half-baked disguise would fool a regular citizen, maybe a witless pirate, but you had traded with him often enough to know better.
Your heart beats faster as you recognize all too well his lopsided smile curving under the hood at your approach, but you avoid his gaze and keep an even pace as you walk past him.
He follows you into a deserted alley and proceeds with the exchange.
You merely comment, “That’s generous.”
“That was our agreement.”
“Those two aren’t mutually exclusive.”
Shanks pulls his hood back, freeing a few red strands as he reveals his face.
“Thanks, as always,” he says.
You nod slightly. “My pleasure.”
“Say, I’m gonna have a drink in town. Wanna join me? My treat.”
You look back up and hold his gaze, full of mischief and determined. His offer is unusual, though somewhat unsurprising since the few conversations you’ve had together gave you hints of mutual interest, and it’s the first time he actually makes a move. A smirk curves your lips. “Why not?”
Shanks offers to go to an inn downtown, which is pleasantly lively yet not too crowded. As promised, he treats you to a drink, then another after tempting you into staying a little longer. On the surface he’s in it for the small talk, but you see the way he observes you, or the way his smile keeps growing as you indulge him in a silly, innocuous story.
You’re not drunk yet—making sure to keep valuable information to yourself— just pleasantly buzzed, enough for your gaze to linger a little longer on his lips or his hand as you chat, filing the mental images for later perusal.
Shanks leans a little over the table between you, making your cheeks heat up at the proximity. “Who do you work for, really?”
You raise an eyebrow. “You should know better than to ask me that, Red-Hair.”
He holds your gaze and drops his voice a little, “Too bad. I’d hate to have the hots for a World Government dog.”
“You’re not serious,” you jab back.
Shanks flashes you his lopsided smile again. “I’m always serious.”
You know for a fact that he isn’t, but you still take the bait. “And what makes you think I’d be interested too?”
He lifts a scarred eyebrow. “Never said that.”
A slip-up, that’s rare coming from you, when knowledge is power and your main source of revenue. You blame the beer for your sloppiness, rolling your eyes and evading, “Like you’re gonna say that just for the sake of it. Please, Red-Hair, I’m not naive.”
“Never said that you are, either; I wouldn’t be trading with you otherwise.”
You mentally slap yourself for the second example of carelessness that evening, and glare. “Fair.”
His smile grows larger. “But since you mentioned it... are you? Interested, I mean.”
You give him a quick once over. You know you should keep your guard up, but you let it down twice in a row just now; it’s been too long and the tension between you two electrifies the air at this point. You lick your suddenly dry lips.
“Do you really need to ask?”
Shanks hums. “I’ve got a room here, you know.”
You huff a light chuckle as you realize the whole drink-at-the-inn thing was well thought out. “Shall we?”
Shanks graciously leads the way upstairs and into his room. You’ve just stepped in when he locks the door and wraps his arm around your waist to pull you into his personal space.
A little short of breath, you quietly tease, “What’s the hurry?”
He bites his lower lip. “I waited too long,” he quietly confesses, and dives in for a kiss.
You almost melt at the contact, long-awaited and far better than your expectations, his lips soft and warm against yours. You lean into his touch, wrapping your hands around his shoulders for support, then moan into his mouth when he slides his tongue between your lips.
Shanks’ warm hand slides up and curls around the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, assertive and demanding as he walks you backwards, trapping you with his bulk against the closest wall.
When he finally leans back, you gasp for air and slide his cape off his shoulders, taking a moment to visually appreciate his strong build. Then you bring a hand to his chest, palming at a pectoral as you idly bite your lower lip.
“Like what you see?” he teases, flashing you his trademark lopsided smile.
You meet his gaze and counter, “Not enough yet.” You run your hands down his torso and undo the few buttons on his shirt before sliding the irrelevant garment off his broad shoulders.
Shanks braces his arm on the wall next to your head, still smiling, then he leans in and huskily asks, “What’s your trade?” His breath raises goosebumps where it lands across your neck in a sexier reenactment of your usual conversations.
Your head falls into the curve of his shoulder. Determined to get the best out of this situation, you set aside all thoughts of professionalism and crane your neck to murmur under his ear, “Fuck me.”
Shanks leans in again, just close enough that you can feel his smile against your skin as he goes on, “What’s in it for me?”
You exhale a quiet chuckle and tuck your thumbs into Shanks’ sash. You unwrap and drop it, then you push him back slightly. Then, holding his gaze, you sink to your knees, sliding his pants down on the way, revealing tented underwear.
His pupils widen and he lifts very interested eyebrows. “You’ve got a deal.”
You smile and slide his underwear down before leaning in, only breaking eye contact when you wrap your lips around his throbbing cock. You start slow and gentle, but a few encouraging moans later you’re properly blowing him off, holding his hips and coating his rock hard erection with spit.
Shanks groans when his tip rubs against the back of your throat, and his hips tense under your hands for a brief moment.
You lean back, running your tongue on the underside of his cock as you let it slide out of your lips. You look up and exhale a quiet pleased sound, a smile curving your lips.
Shanks is absolutely gorgeous, chest and shoulders moving with each breath, muscles taut with restraint, a curtain of red hair casting shadows across his handsome face.
Your eyes linger on his tongue as it darts out to wet his lips, then you meet his gaze, heavy and wanting.
Shanks gently rocks his hips forward, rubbing the head of his cock against your still drawn tongue. You curl your tongue under his frenulum, making him hiss then exhale a deep moan. Biting his lower lip in an obvious show of restraint, he slowly pushes further while his gaze drifts down to your mouth.
Acknowledging his carefulness, you softly hum and invitingly open your mouth wider.
Shanks’ scarred eyebrow briefly twitches, and after a brief hesitation he leans back to get out of your way.
Mildly disappointed, you lick your lips and throw him a curious glance.
Shanks squats down, his intense gaze diving into yours as he cups your chin and tilts it up. His warm breath fans over your lips when he says, “You sure know how to trade.” And he dives in to claim your mouth.
You’re almost out of breath when he finally breaks the kiss and pulls you up so you’re both standing again.
Shanks’ wandering hand raises goosebumps on your back where it snuck under your shirt, and there’s mischief in his smile when he next says, “I’ll hold my end of the deal, then.”
Flattered by his eagerness, you crack a smile and exhale a soft chuckle, then gasp when he flips you around, pushing you against the wall once more with his strong body.
Shanks leans back and pulls your bottom garments down in one swift movement, taking a moment on his way back up to slide his fingers across your inner thigh.
You step out of your clothes and brace your arms on the wall, curving your back for better access. Your breathing gets heavier once his fingertips find your folds, spreading the wetness there and teasing your entrance.
Shanks’ fingers are removed too soon, only to be replaced by his spit-coated cock that he slides into you without further ado.
Your fingers curl against the wall and you exhale a lewd moan once he’s sheathed in. “Oh, fuck...”
“Oh yeah”, Shanks growls, and he starts thrusting into you right away, hard and fast.
With every other sinful sound passing past your lips under his ministrations, you feel his cock throbbing into you, stretching you further, and you bet he’s close already. You turn your head around and bite your lower lip at the view.
Tanned skin glistening with sweat over taut muscle, brow furrowed in the effort, pretty lips slightly parted, dark gaze locking with yours–Shanks is close alright, and you’re not faring much better. His hand slides from your hip to your back, tracing the dip of your spine up to the back of your neck, pushing you against the wall while he fucks you silly.
A harder thrust makes you see stars lingering behind your eyelids when you close your eyes. You slide a hand down and press it over your swollen clit, reaching for the orgasm that’s been building up inside you. Your inner walls flutter around Shanks who pounds deeper in return, finally sending you off the edge.
You’re just starting to come down from cloud nine when he pulls out and tucks his cock between your ass cheeks.
Shanks cums with a series of heavy moans, throbbing against you and painting your lower back with cum. After he leaned back and helped clean you up, he asks, “You won’t tell me who you work for, huh?”
“Mhm. The only thing I can say is that the Underworld and the World Government don’t really mix.”
“Ooh, is that so?”
You have a feeling he already knew that, so you simply shrug.
“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to require another trade, soon.”
Every time he lowers his eyes, a strict ‘tsk, tsk’ of yours reminds him to keep looking at you as he obediently follows your instructions, always so eager to please.
a/n: one of my fics for @op-xreader-zine ♡
i don't write Katakuri often but when i do, he gets pegged. you can see the spot art Mew drew for this on AO3 (i didn't embed it here since i'm not sure what the current rules for explicit drawings on Tumblr currently are oop but click on the link for a treat)
contains: ns.fw under the cut, Katakuri/Reader, afab!reader (no pronouns or descriptive words for reader’s genitals used), pegging, praise kink, dirty talk, fingering (reader receiving and giving), size kink, spanking
word count: 2.2k
“Mmm.”
You let out a content sigh as you sink into the bathwater and right into your boyfriend's arms. Instantly, he wraps them around you and pulls your body closer to his. There’s been this heat between the two of you ever since Katakuri suggested staying in tonight and having a bath together instead of going out. He’s never been one to enjoy the company of many people anyway, preferring to spend his shared solitude with you instead.
One hand of his is big enough to wrap around your torso fully, holding you in a tight but not painful grip. Even if you tried, you could never wiggle out of it. Not that you wanted to—you loved when he held you like that. The sheer size of him made you feel safe and sparked a fire within your core.
Tonight isn’t any different.
“Sweet little thing… you’re squirming.”
Katakuri’s voice is low in your ear, his hot breath fanning over your skin and making you tremble slightly. It doesn't go unnoticed by him with the way you arch your back and rub your thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction. How your heartbeat speeds up a little when he presses his fingertips deeper into your soft flesh. Your habit of biting your bottom lip when you want to hold back your needy mewls. For him your body speaks a language of its own and Katakuri understands every syllable of it.
He rests his chin on top of your shoulder after dragging messy kisses along the side of your neck while his free hand spreads your legs under water with ease, hooking them over his knees to keep them wide open for him.
“So good for me,” he whispers and trails a finger along your slit, almost making you jump in his embrace if it wasn’t for his firm grip holding you in place. His touch is never rough, always gentle; he's well aware of his size and never wants to hurt you. But oh, could he lose himself in the way you whine and moan when he pushes one finger inside your hot core, followed quickly by a second. And when you beg for a third as your walls already twitch around him, Katakuri can’t help but grant your wish, stuffing you until your head falls back on his shoulder and you let out the sweetest sounds of pleasure.
It doesn’t take long for you to cum around his fingers, your walls fluttering them as if they never want to let him go. Katakuri keeps on pressing kisses to your jaw and the side of your neck before he removes his fingers carefully, holding you against his body as you come down from your high. You feel his gaze lingering on you, and you tilt your head up to meet his warm, crimson eyes. Every tiny wrinkle around them you know by heart, having lovingly traced them countless times with your fingertips.
Katakuri reaches for your hand and brings it to his lips, placing another soft kiss on the back of it. You hum gently and turn around in the tub so you could face him directly without cranking your neck—and maybe also because you want to take in the sight of his throbbing cock that has been pressing against your back the whole time.
“How can I make you feel good tonight?” you ask, your voice dripping with hunger as your fingertips run up the inside of his thigh, making them tremble a little. You love how sensitive he is, the slightest touch enough to turn him on. Your eyes rest on him, waiting for him to reply.
There are a few seconds of silence between the two of you–not the uncomfortable kind, the good kind–before Katakuri speaks again, his voice low and making your heart skip a beat.
“There’s something I’ve never tried before… if you’re up for it.”
It's a sight to behold.
Katakuri, leaning against the headboard of the bed, his breath hot and heavy as he keeps fisting his throbbing cock under your stern gaze. Every time he lowers his eyes, a strict ‘tsk, tsk’ of yours reminds him to keep looking at you as he obediently follows your instructions, always so eager to please.
“Spread your legs for me,” you demand as you sit opposite of him at the other end of the bed, lazily stroking the strap-on around your hips, all lubed up already. You smirk when your man does as you tell him and bends his knees further, pushing his legs apart to grant you a better view of just how deeply he desires you.
Two fingers are pushing deeply past his puckered hole, and they glide in and out of it slowly.
“Good boy,” you say in a low voice, eyes wandering from his flustered expression to his throbbing cock, a few drops of precum leaking from it as he continues stroking himself for you, his rhythm getting slightly faster whenever you praise him in a sultry voice.
“Gorgeous… Does it feel good, touching yourself like that?” you ask as you watch him add a third finger, stretching his hole further for you. Katakuri nods, his breath a bit ragged by now and a thin sheen of sweat covering his massive chest. “You wish it was my cock, filling you up…?”
He nods again and you can tell that he is close from the way his fingers clench tighter around his cock, how his thumb circles the tip of it, and how his hips jerk forward slightly as he silently begs you with his eyes to cum. You muster him up and down as his whole body shivers slightly, then you smile and grant him his wish.
“Cum for me… let me hear how good it feels…” you whisper, though your voice leaves no room for disobedience. Usually never one to be overly vocal, Katakuri cums with a whimper, fingers still gliding in and out of his stretched hole as his load lands on his stomach, leaving a sticky trail all the way down his abs to this still throbbing cock.
You don’t leave him any time to breathe.
“On all fours,” you command. “Bend over and spread your cheeks for me, can you do that?”
Seeing Katakuri this obedient, this aroused, it stirs something inside of you. When he told you earlier about his curiosity about pegging, having never tried it before, you were curious too, trying to imagine what he’d look like when he was at your mercy.
It is a sight forever burned into your memory.
His whole body is trembling, face pressed into the pillows and a blissful and fucked out expression, all the while his fingers slide in and out of his stretched hole for your eyes only… it makes you fall all over for him, the trust between the two of you only growing. You lean over him and trail kisses down his spine, mumbling words of adoration against his hot skin, making him whine quietly.
“So good for me,” you coo as your hands cup his ass cheeks, spreading them wider for a better view which has Katakuri moaning, muffled by the pillows. “Shh. Hold still–”
The sound of the bottle of lube clicking open is followed by soft pants from Katakuri when you pour the cold gel where his fingers were moments before, now replaced by two of yours, rubbing slow circles around his twitching hole. You watch your digits disappear inside of it, his ring of muscles clenching around them as you push them in and out slowly, eliciting the sweetest sounds eliciting the sweetest sounds Katakuri's throat has to offer.
“One more,” he mumbles in the pillows, his knuckles turning white when he grips the bed sheets as you add another finger, taking your time to make sure he’ll be able to take your strap with ease. With your free hand you land a sharp slap on his ass cheek, quickly followed by one on the other. His moans are getting deeper now, more needy, which makes your whole body tingle in return.
“Think you can take me…?” you ask, your own heart also beating faster at the sight beneath you. When Katakuri nods, you can’t help but smile and curl your fingers slightly against the sensitive spot inside of him, having him on the edge the whole time before you leave him empty and whining, though if only for just a few moments.
You add a generous amount of lube as you stroke the strap in your fist again, then line yourself up against him with the tip of your fake cock rubbing between his spread cheeks teasingly.
“We can stop anytime, okay?” you whisper, waiting for Katakuri to give you a sign to show that he was good to continue, before you nudge your strap against his entrance. All your gentle preparations from earlier is paid off when you see how easily he swallows you as you push in slowly.
“Sucking me in so greedily.” You smirk as you grab him by his hips, gently guiding him deeper down on your strap. “Feels good…?”
Katakuri breathes heavily as he almost loses himself in this new sensation. All words are lost with every inch you push in deeper, having him mewl and growl under your constant praise as you stretch him so deliciously. He looks so unfairly pretty like this. Part of you wants to ruin him, wants to hear him beg and cry as you fuck him into the mattress, until his eyes roll to the back of his head; another part wants to take this so painfully slow that he just cums untouched, cums without a single finger of yours wrapping around his cock to help him get off, cums from your lazy thrusts that hit his sweet spot inside so well.
Then you’re all the way inside, your hips grinding against him, your fingertips leaving faint red marks where you hold him in place as Katakuri’s whole body trembles. His heavy pants bounce off the walls of your bedroom and send warm shivers throughout your whole body. You’ve never seen him like this and you can’t get enough of the sweet sounds you’re eliciting from him.
You lean forward, a hand of yours finding his hair and gently tugging on it as you kiss down from the side of his neck to his shoulder blades, mumbling soft words of praise and affection against his sweaty skin. From the way Katakuri arches his back for you, rocking his hips back and forth slightly, you can tell that he wants more and you can’t help but laugh softly.
Still bottomed out all the way inside, you kiss his broad back a few more times before your hands wander to his sides, then all the way around his stomach until they find his throbbing and neglected cock. Your fingers of one hand wrap around it, the other around his balls; both are heavy and pulsating in your tight grip, begging for sweet release.
“You poor thing,” you coo. “Have you been holding back? Does my cock make you feel this good? Look at you, so pretty for me…”
Katakuri mewls when you give his cock a few lazy strokes, too light to get him off, yet the feeling of being so full of you is so intense it almost has him seeing stars. By now he is drooling and whimpering, the feeling of pleasure almost too much to handle, his curiosity more than satisfied.
“Will you be good and cum for me?” you whisper as you slowly start thrusting again, almost mesmerized by the way his hole stretches around your strap on. If you could, you’d watch this for hours. Your fingers wrap his cock harder, feeling it twitch underneath your touch when you rub your thumb over the pink tip.
Katakuri is a mess by now, his moans caught in his throat as he begs you to go faster, sweet pleads to let him cum. And you do—
One last thrust is all it takes to push him over the edge. You feel his whole body shake beneath you when he cums, making a mess of the sheets and everything else. His load trickles from your fingers down to your wrist as you keep milking him, lazy strokes that have him whimpering from overstimulation until you finally release him from your grip. You pull out your cock slowly, watching how his hole clenches around nothing before he slumps down on the sheets, followed by you right next to him.
He has his eyes closed in pure bliss when you brush a few strands of his crimson hair out of his face before leaning down to kiss him gently. For the moment no words are needed between the two of you, the air still radiant with the trust and love the two of you hold for each other. One arm of his comes to wrap around your waist and pulls you closer to him, so close you can feel his heart beat erratically in his chest, every drum an echo of your name.
Read it on AO3 Here! | This is a work I wrote for @op-xreader-zine if you want to read more good fics and artwork please check out the zine! It’s free to download :)
If you had to describe what your life was like before meeting Luffy, you’d say it was pale blue. The morose hue of the world right before a storm, like you were perpetually waiting for the rain. Your gaze trained on the constant cover of clouds.
“Are you having a good time?” You turn to the voice, greeting the villager with a smile. You trade your smile for a drink, accepting it with both hands.
It feels routine at this point.
It’s like the only reaction we can get out of the places we visit is an angry mob or a celebration, you think. Bubbles fizz in the amber liquid in front of you. Your eyes turn to the source of your extreme highs and lows—your own personal sun.
The hair thin scar under his eye glistens underneath the lantern light. Fleshy arms stretch out wide, the gaggle of children watching in awe as they stretch to three fold their original width. He twists his arms like pasta, makes a lopped swing, and grabs a flower from the tallest tree. Children become parents, and parents become the elderly—soon enough half the village is watching him with stars in their eyes.
That’s just how Luffy is.
The type of man who would fight a god on instinct alone—the type of man who’s never felt defeat because to him it’s not over until he wins.
It’s completely different from the way I live my life.
Luffy lives in a world filled to the brim with golden sunlight. Not because he was born with better standing, or because of any sort of luck or privilege — but simply because he refuses to settle for anything less. Calloused hands put together that world piece by piece, built with nothing more than undeterred optimism and a dream.
Do I really belong next to someone like that?
The thought of comparing yourself to Luffy is laughable—the boy fought a god and won. It’s not hard to guess who measures higher.
Grey skies seem to darken, the faint rumble of thunder echoing in your ears. Just as it feels like a storm might break out, a calloused hand is stretched before you.
You blink twice, your eyes slowly lifting to meet his face. His grin is so wide you stifle the urge to shield your eyes from its brilliance.
“Can I have this dance?”
Five words, powerful enough to settle the turbulence of your emotions.
Luffy never lets it get that bad.
You feel the corner of your mouth twitch. “I thought you were never going to ask.” The words have no bite, and Luffy’s grin widens.
Flawless skin presses against scarred fingers. The sun breaks through the clouds in streams of light. And—for a moment—there is endless sunshine.
my full piece for the @op-xreader-zine ! :) I had a great time as a guest artist and thanks to the amazing mod team it was a wonderful experience for everyone! <3
My two pieces for the @op-xreader-zine !! I had a tremendous amount of fun on this project and I have made so many friends! I was new to One Piece when I started this project, and I’m so grateful for everyone who took a chance on me!!