Antara

3

[pikles249]

[ramen-flavored]

The way I’m going to go FERAL

[kbondoxxxxav]

talk about siblings

[soaked-doors]

MS4 law vs. law student sabo who’s drowning themself in the university fountain first

[hiddenkallz]

🔥💖👈

[dannymans66]

Im starting to forget what you look like

Inspo here

[inseobts]

Pregnant 🫵

how would they react at your pregnancy?

characters: law, koby, kid, shanks and mihawk

(luffy, zoro and sanji version)

a/n: merry christmas everyone!!!

words count: around 0.7k - 1.1k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Law:

Law notices it before you ever do.

He’s a doctor before he’s anything else… other than pirate captain, other than Warlord, other than your partner. The signs are small, almost unnoticeable to you, but to him they’re loud.

The way you get tired faster. The nausea that hits you in the mornings. The faint changes in your vitals when he checks on you.

So he starts adjusting things quietly.

When someone offers you alcohol, he reaches out first, takes the cup, and drinks it without comment. If you look confused, he just mutters something about not needing distractions.

“Why did you take my drink?” you ask, eyebrow raised as he downs the glass someone just handed you.

“You don’t need distractions like this.” he replies flatly.

“…You drank it.”

“And?”

When the smell of food makes your stomach churn, he’s suddenly there with water, a cloth, steady hands holding your hair back as you throw up. He never makes a big deal out of it, just cleans you up, rubs slow circles on your back, helps you lie down.

“Easy,” he murmurs “I’ve got you.”

When you’re done, he rinses the cloth, cleans the counter, helps you sit.

“You’re hovering.” you mumble.

He doesn’t deny it “You’re not feeling well.”

“That’s been happening a lot lately.”

“…I’ve noticed.”

You start noticing he doesn’t let you overwork yourself anymore. Doesn’t let you stand too long. Keeps you close during fights, positioned just behind him, with you doing literally nothing.

You think he’s being overprotective.

Law, meanwhile, is terrified of being wrong.

He runs the calculations again and again. Checks, rechecks. Watches you with that quiet, unreadable stare, because if he says something too soon and he’s wrong, he’ll hurt you. And if he’s right… then everything changes.

When he’s finally sure, one evening, he knocks on your door.

“Come to my studio,” he says “we need to talk.”

That’s when you get nervous.

He makes you sit down first. That alone tells you something’s wrong. Law stays standing for a moment, arms crossed, jaw tight. Then he removes his hat and sets it on the desk.

You swallow “You’re scaring me.”

“I don’t want to,” he answers quietly “But I won’t lie to you.”

There’s a pause. He exhales slowly, controlled.

“I’m going to say this plainly,” he continues “And then I’ll explain.”

“…Okay.”

“You’re pregnant.”

The words don’t register at first “I— what?”

“I’m sure now,” he says immediately, like he’s been preparing for this “I noticed the symptoms weeks ago. I confirmed it as carefully as I could without alarming you.”

You stare at him “You knew?”

“I suspected. Then I knew.”

Silence stretches between you. Your thoughts are a mess.

Law speaks again, softer now “Before you say anything — listen to me.”

He kneels in front of you so you’re at eye level. His voice doesn’t shake, but his eyes do.

“This is your body.” he says “Your choice. Your future.”

Your breath catches.

“If you want to keep the baby, I’ll support you.” he continues “If you don’t… I’ll support you. If you need time, space, or answers, I’ll give you all of it.”

He swallows “I will understand any decision you make.”

You whisper, “Law…”

“I’m not saying this as a doctor,” he adds quickly “Or as a captain. I’m saying this as me.”

Your hand moves to your stomach before you even realize it “…We’re having a baby?”

Law’s eyes flicker to the motion. His breath stutters barely.

“Yes,” he says “If you decide to keep it.”

Fear slips into his voice then, raw and honest.

“I don’t know anything about children,” he admits “I don’t know how to keep something that small safe in a world like this. I’m a pirate. I basically put targets on the people I love.”

You look at him “You love me.”

He doesn’t hesitate “Yes.”

His hand hovers near yours, unsure “That’s why I’m scared.”

You lace your fingers with his.

“We’ll figure it out…” you say.

Law closes his eyes for a second, pressing his forehead to your knee.

“…Then I’ll learn,” he murmurs “Whatever it takes.”

Later that night, half-asleep, you feel his hand resting gently on your belly.

“So small,” he whispers, thinking you can’t hear “I’ll protect you too.”

Months Later

You barely make it three steps onto the deck before… “Stop.”

You halt mid-stride and slowly turn.

Law stands a few feet away, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in that familiar way that means he’s already decided “…What?”

“You’re holding something.”

You look down “A mug.”

“And you shouldn’t be.”

“It’s tea.”

He walks over, takes it from your hands without ceremony, and sets it on a nearby table “You don’t need to carry unnecessary weight.”

You stare at him “Law. It’s liquid.”

Before you can say anything else Bepo pops up beside you “I-I can get you another one!! I’m sorry!!”

“I didn’t even—”

He’s already running off.

You pinch the bridge of your nose “Law. This is excessive.”

“I disagree.”

From behind the mast, Penguin leans out “She’s been on her feet for a while, Captain.”

Shachi nods gravely “Yeah. That’s dangerous.”

You blink “…You’re both encouraging this?”

Penguin shrugs “Doctor’s orders.”

Law clears his throat and they immediately straighten.

You slowly turn back to him “You idiot.”

Later, you try sitting on the edge of the ship, legs dangling, enjoying the breeze.

“Careful!!” Bepo yelps.

You flinch which immediately makes Law snap his head up.

“Don’t startle her.” he says sharply.

“I-I’m sorry!! I just— what if she slips?!”

Shachi appears with a cushion “For your back.”

Penguin hands you a blanket “Wind’s picking up.”

Bepo gently places a snack in your hands “You should eat…”

You look down at the pile now surrounding you “…I just wanted to look at the ocean.”

Law watches, silent.

You groan “I’m pregnant, not sick or fragile.”

He steps closer, lowering his voice.

“You’re not,” he says “We just want you to feel safe and comfortable.”

You sigh, eyes softening.

Law sits beside you, his hand resting naturally on your stomach.

“You’re smiling.” he murmurs.

“I’m irritated.”

“You’re smiling.”

“…I might be both.”

His thumb moves in slow, unconscious circles.

After a moment, he speaks again.

“I know it’s too much,” he admits “But this… it’s important to us.”

You glance around at the crew, at Bepo pretending not to watch, at Penguin and Shachi lowering their voices the second they notice you looking.

Then back at him.

“I know,” you say softly “And… I love it. Even when it drives me insane.”

Law exhales, tension easing from his shoulders.

“Good,” he says “Because it’s not stopping.”

You laugh softly and lean into him.

And for the first time in months, surrounded by a crew that won’t let you lift a mug, a captain who’s terrified and devoted in equal measure, and a future you never expected, you feel completely safe.

── .✦ Koby:

You don’t plan it.

You just… blurt it out one evening, sitting together after a long day, the world unusually quiet for once.

“Koby…” you say suddenly.

He looks up immediately “Yeah?”

You fidget with your hands “I need to tell you something.”

That alone makes him straighten “Oh, okay. Is everything alright?”

“I think so…” you reply. Then, quieter, “I’m… pregnant.”

The silence that follows is heavy.

His eyes widen. His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again.

“You’re…?” he whispers “Pregnant?”

You nod “Yeah.”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Then all at once “Oh my god.”

You panic “That’s bad?”

“No— I mean… I don’t know…” He runs his hands through his hair, pacing a step, then stopping “I’m not upset. I’m just… scared.”

“Me too.” you admit.

He swallows hard and looks at you again, eyes shining.

“The world’s… awful,” he says “And our jobs, and pirates, and Marines, and danger everywhere… what if I can’t protect you? What if I’m not strong enough?”

“Koby…”

“What if something happens?” he rushes on “What if I fail you? Or the baby?”

His voice cracks on the last word.

You reach for him. He kneels in front of you instantly, like instinct takes over.

“I’ve dreamed about a future with you,” he says quietly “A peaceful one. A home. A family.” He laughs shakily “I just didn’t think I was allowed to want and even have that.”

You cup his face “You are.”

He presses his forehead to yours, breathing unevenly.

“I’m terrified,” he admits “But I’m also…” He hesitates, then smiles through tears “I’m happy. So happy it hurts.”

You laugh softly “Yeah?”

He nods “A family with you is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Even if it’s scary.”

You place his hand over your stomach.

He freezes.

“…There’s really a baby in there…” he whispers.

“Yes.”

He lets out a breath that sounds like relief and awe mixed together.

“Then I’ll get stronger,” he says firmly “I’ll make the world safer. I promise.”

You smile “You already are.”

He looks up at you, eyes full of determination and love.

“I don’t know how to be a parent yet,” he says “But I’ll learn. I swear. For you. For them.”

You pull him into a hug, and as he holds you carefully and hopeful, you realize that no matter how frightening the world is, with Koby beside you, the future suddenly feels possible.

Months Later

“Careful!”

You step over the threshold completely fine.

Koby trips “I’M SO SORRY!”

You turn just in time to see Koby catch himself on the wall, nearly saluting it in the process “…Koby.”

“I was trying to watch your step,” he pants “But my foot and then the floor and… are you okay??”

You blink “I walked. Normally.”

He rushes to your side anyway, hands hovering awkwardly in midair, unsure where he’s allowed to touch.

“You didn’t strain anything? You didn’t lose balance? You didn’t—”

“I’m fine” you say, trying not to smile.

You fail.

Later, you’re reaching for something on a shelf.

“I’ve got it!” he yelps, leaping forward.

Too fast, so he bumps his elbow. The item falls. But you catch it effortlessly.

There’s a long pause.

“Oh,” he says softly “…You did it.”

You grin “I do most things.”

“I was supposed to,” he mutters, mortified “I practiced.”

“You practiced… grabbing things?”

“Yes!”

You laugh. Full, warm, uncontrollable laughter.

He freezes then relaxes.

“Oh,” he says again “You’re laughing.”

“That was adorable” you manage between breaths.

“I almost dropped it on myself…” he admits.

“But you didn’t,” you say “And now I’m happy.”

That seems to recalibrate him entirely.

Later still, you’re walking together when he suddenly stops “Wait!”

You stop. He crouches.

“There was a crack in the ground.” he explains seriously.

“…Koby.”

“You could’ve tripped.”

You sigh fondly “You’re terrible at this.”

“I know,” he says immediately “I’m really bad at being cool.”

You reach for his hand “But you’re great at making me laugh.”

He looks up at you, startled “I am?”

You nod “Every single day if you haven’t notice.”

He smiles, shyly but brightly.

“That’s good,” he says softly “Because the doctor said stress isn’t good for you.”

You tease, “So this is medical?”

“Absolutely,” he nods “I’ll keep embarrassing myself if it keeps you happy.”

You laugh again, leaning into him, and as clumsy as he is, as much as you end up doing instead, you wouldn’t trade a single moment.

Because in a dangerous world, with an uncertain future, your laughter, his devotion, and the love you’re building together are more than enough.

── .✦ Kid:

You don’t ease into it. There’s no gentle setup, no careful wording.

You just look at him one day and say, “I’m pregnant.”

He stops.

Not dramatically, he just… freezes. Metal clinks as whatever he was working on drops to the floor “…You’re what?”

“Pregnant.”

Silence.

Then “WHOSE?”

You blink “…Yours, idiot.”

He scowls “I HAD TO ASK.”

You gasp, shocked “WHO YOU THINK I AM?”

He turns away, pacing, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to tear the thought out of his skull.

“Say that again.” he mutters.

“I’m. Pregnant.”

He laughs once, sharp, disbelieving “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

Another pause. Longer this time.

“…The hell are we supposed to do?”

You shrug “I thought you’d yell more.”

“I’M THINKING!” he snaps then immediately winces “Not at you. I mean—”

He groans, grabbing his face.

“I don’t know anything about kids,” he mutters “I break things. I explode things. I piss off half the world for a living.”

You cross your arms “Comforting.”

“I’M NOT DONE.” he growls.

He looks at you then and his voice drops.

“This world chews people up,” he says “And it’ll come for you harder if they know.”

That’s the fear. Raw. Ugly. Honest.

“…Are you… scared?” you ask quietly.

He scoffs “Of course I am.”

Then, almost inaudible “But I’m also… kinda proud.”

You raise a brow “Proud?”

He huffs “You and me. Making something. That’s—” He clicks his tongue, frustrated, as he panics, as if he’s talking too much and too softly for his character “That’s metal.”

You laugh.

He grins despite himself “Don’t get used to it.”

Later, when you sit, he hovers “Don’t lift that.”

“I can handle a chair.”

“I don’t care.”

He moves it anyway, aggressively gentle.

Killer watches from the side, amused.

“You gonna glue yourself to them now?” Killer asks.

Kid snaps back, “Shut up.”

Then, lower, to you “You need anything?”

You smirk “You’re hovering.”

“Yeah,” he admits “And I hate it.”

You catch him one night, staring at your stomach like it might bite him.

“…It kick yet?” he asks gruffly.

“No.”

He nods “Good.”

“…Good?”

“If it kicked and I wasn’t ready? Or if it hurts you? I’d punch something.”

You snort.

He scowls “Not funny.”

But his hand hesitates, then rests there anyway.

Awkward and careful.

“I don’t promise soft.” he says quietly “Or safe. Or normal.”

You look up at him “I didn’t fall for you for soft, safe or normal.”

His jaw tightens.

“…Then I’ll promise this,” he says “Anyone who comes after you or the kid? They don’t walk away.”

You lean into him, smiling.

For a man made of rage and metal that’s his version of love.

Months Later

You barely have time to react.

You let out a small breath, more surprised than hurt, and instinctively bring a hand to your stomach.

Kid’s head snaps up instantly “What.”

You blink “What?”

“Did it hurt you?”

“No, I just—”

He’s already at your side, crouched in front of you, eyes sharp, furious, searching your face for pain.

“Did it hurt?” he repeats, slower this time, like the answer matters more than anything else in the world.

“It was just a kick,” you say “They do that now.”

His jaw tightens “…It kicked you?”

You can’t help it, you smile “Yeah.”

He looks down at your stomach like it personally offended him.

“The hell is it doing that for” he mutters.

You laugh “Kid…”

He places his hand there carefully. Careful. Like he’s handling glass despite all that strength.

“If it hurts you,” he says quietly, voice rough but restrained, “it’s gotta stop.”

You bite back another laugh “You can’t threaten a baby. Your baby!”

He scowls at your stomach anyway “I can try.”

There’s another movement, subtle but enough.

You hiss softly “Oh—”

Kid stiffens immediately “That one hurt.”

“It startled me more than anything.”

His brows knit together “You sure?”

“Yes.”

He exhales, slow and controlled, thumb rubbing gentle circles where his hand rests.

“…You tell me if it ever hurts,” he says “Immediately.”

“I will.”

He hesitates, then adds, lower, “I don’t like not being able to do anything.”

You soften “You’re doing plenty.”

He snorts “I can’t punch it.”

“THANK GOD!”

Another kick, stronger this time.

You laugh without thinking.

Kid freezes “…You’re laughing.”

“Because it’s funny,” you say “Seems like they’re already stubborn.”

His lips twitch despite himself “Sounds familiar.”

He leans in, resting his forehead briefly against your stomach, voice dropping.

“Hey,” he mutters “Go easy on your mom, yeah?”

You grin “Talking to the baby now?”

“Don’t make it weird.”

But he stays there, hand steady, expression calmer than you’ve ever seen him.

Rage-forged pirate captain. Terrified of hurting you. Already protecting something he hasn’t even met.

And somehow, it’s the softest version of him you’ve ever known.

── .✦ Shanks:

The sun dips low over the horizon, painting the ocean gold. You find Shanks leaning against the railing.

“Shanks,” you say softly, your hands fidgeting “I… I have something to tell you.”

He looks at you, eyes warm, attentive, a gentle grin tugging at his lips “Hm? You’ve got that look… I like it already. What is it?”

You take a deep breath “…I …I’m pregnant.”

He blinks for the briefest moment, long enough for your stomach to flutter, then his grin spreads, genuine, easy “Well… I suppose I should have guessed. You’ve been hiding it pretty terribly, though.”

You laugh nervously “I wasn’t hiding it. I just… I didn’t know how you’d react.”

Shanks steps closer, his hand finding yours. His thumb brushes your knuckles in a lazy, comforting circle “I think you know me better than that. I’ve never been anything but happy to have you around… and now this.” He gestures to your stomach, voice soft, warm “Our little one.”

You swallow, eyes wide “You… you’re not worried?”

He shakes his head, still grinning “Worried? Why would I be worried? We’ll take care of each other. We always do. And now… we get to take care of someone new too. A little Y/N. That’s exciting.”

You press your hand to your stomach “I… I was nervous. I didn’t know if you wanted another child, after everything… Luffy, Uta…”

Shanks chuckles softly, shaking his head “You worry too much.” He leans down, brushing a kiss across your forehead “I’ve handled chaos before, love. A little more adventure never scared me, and it won’t scare me now. We’ve got this.”

You laugh, heart thudding “You really make it sound easy.”

“That’s because it is,” he says confidently, eyes sparkling with warmth “With you, I can handle anything. And I’ll protect you both, no matter what. I promise.”

You tilt your head, smiling through tears of relief “I… I trust you.”

He squeezes your hand, voice softening “And I’ll make sure that trust is never misplaced. You and our baby… you’re both my world now.”

You rest your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady, calm presence you’ve always loved.

“And,” he adds with a playful smirk, “if this little one turns out half as mischievous as me, we’re in for a lot of fun.”

You laugh again, leaning fully into him “I think I can handle that.”

Shanks chuckles, lips brushing your hair “I know you can. Because together? There’s nothing we can’t handle.”

And for the first time in days, you feel completely, utterly calm, because Shanks isn’t scared. He’s steady. He’s strong. He’s here.

That’s all that matters.

Months Later

The ship rocks gently beneath your feet as you settle into the deck chair, stomach full from a snack Shanks insisted you eat.

“Careful there,” he says, leaning casually against the railing, his hand on your chair “Wouldn’t want you tipping over.”

“I’m fine,” you reply, smiling “I can sit like a normal person.”

Shanks grins, the kind of easy, teasing grin that makes your heart flutter “Normal? Pfft. That’s boring. We don’t do boring on this ship.”

You laugh, and he leans closer, resting his chin on your shoulder “Besides… someone’s got to keep an eye on you. And this little one.” He rubs gently over your belly, thumb brushing soft circles.

“It’s… weirdly comforting.” you admit.

“You mean you like it.” he teases, squeezing your hand lightly.

You roll your eyes “Maybe.”

Shanks chuckles, then glances toward the crew “Don’t let anyone else spoil my job, though. I’m still the captain here.”

He watches over you with that calm, confident air, playful but never careless. When a breeze tousles your hair, he tucks it behind your ear, smiling softly.

“You’re ridiculous.” you murmur.

“And you love it.” he replies, grinning.

A few minutes later, the baby kicks. You flinch slightly, and Shanks’ head snaps toward your stomach.

“Did it hurt?” he asks immediately, voice low and serious.

You shake your head “No, just startled me.”

He presses his hand there, thumb brushing lightly “…Good. I’ll protect you. Both of you. Always.”

The sun dips lower, casting a golden glow over the deck. You lean against him, head on his shoulder, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his presence, the steady beat of his hand on your stomach.

“You really are impossible…” you whisper.

He chuckles softly, lips brushing your hair “And yet, here I am. About to start a family with you. Making little Shanks… and… absolutely yours.”

“Last time you said they were little me… now they’re little Shanks?” You look at him faking confusion.

He laughs and say “Could be the perfect mix of both, or twins. Who knows!”

You laugh softly and say “Can’t wait to see it.”

You close your eyes, heart full. The sea stretches endlessly before you, the ship rocking gently, and everything feels right.

Because with Shanks, playful and confident, doting and soft, you know that whatever comes, you, him, and the little one are safe.

── .✦ Mihawk:

The castle is quiet, as it always is.

You find Mihawk seated at the table, a glass of wine in one hand, the other resting idly near his sword. He looks up the moment you enter, golden eyes sharp but calm.

“You’re pacing.” he observes.

You stop mid-step “…Am I?”

“Yes.”

You sigh and sit across from him, fingers lacing together “Okay, you’re right. I need to tell you something.”

He sets the glass down immediately. His full attention is on you now “Go on.”

You take a breath “I’m pregnant.”

There is no sudden movement. No sharp inhale. No shock.

He simply looks at you.

“…I see.” he says.

That’s it.

You blink “That’s— that’s all?”

He tilts his head slightly “Would you prefer panic?”

You huff despite yourself “I don’t know. Maybe something.”

A corner of his mouth lifts barely “You are safe. The child is safe. There is nothing urgent that requires alarm.”

You relax a little “You look really calm about this.”

“I am,” he agrees “Because panic serves no purpose.”

He reaches across the table, covering your hand with his, steady, warm.

“You are carrying my child,” he says evenly “That is… significant.”

Your chest tightens “You don’t sound unhappy.”

“I am not.” He pauses, gaze softening in a way only you ever see.

“This life will be quiet,” he continues “Stable. Protected. No needless danger.”

You whisper, “You’ve thought about this already?”

“I think about all possibilities,” he replies “Especially those involving you.”

You smile “You’re going to be a terrifyingly calm parent.”

“Good,” he says “Children require consistency.”

You laugh softly “They also cry. And scream.”

“Then I will adapt.”

He lifts your hand, pressing a deliberate kiss to your knuckles.

“There is nothing to fear,” he says calmly “You are not alone. And you never will be.”

You lean back, heart steady, breath easy.

With Mihawk… everything feels controlled. Safe. Certain.

And thanks to that, the future doesn’t feel intimidating at all.

Months Later

The castle is silent except for the faint sound of pages turning.

You shift slightly on the couch, adjusting your position. It’s subtle, barely anything at all.

… but Dracule Mihawk looks up immediately “Uncomfortable?”

You blink “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t need to.”

You sigh fondly “I was just moving.”

He closes the book and sets it aside without hesitation “Then you should move again. Slowly.”

You do, and he watches, attentive, eyes following every motion until you settle.

“Better?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He nods once, satisfied, and resumes reading but his hand remains resting near your knee, close enough to reach you instantly if needed.

After a while, you stand “I’m going to get some water.”

“I’ll go.”

You pause mid-step “…Excuse me?”

He looks up, calm as ever “You stood too quickly. Also, I was about to go there anyway.”

“I stood normally.”

He rises smoothly, already moving past you toward the kitchen “Remain seated. I will bring it.”

You cross your arms “You know, I can still do things.”

“I am aware,” he replies evenly, returning with a glass and placing it in your hands “That does not mean you must.”

You take a sip, trying not to smile “You’re very controlling.”

“I am being efficient.”

You hum “Convenient excuse.”

He doesn’t deny it.

Later, as evening settles in, the light in the room softens.

You sit at the table, staring at nothing in particular, fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of your cup.

Mihawk looks up from his book.

“You are tired.” he says.

You blink “I didn’t say anything… again.”

“You exhaled differently.” he replies calmly.

You huff a small laugh “That’s… unfairly observant.”

He closes the book and stands, moving toward you with unhurried steps.

“You have been pushing yourself today,” he continues “More than usual.”

“I didn’t feel like I was.”

“Fatigue does not always announce itself loudly,” he says, placing a hand at your lower back “Come. Sit properly.”

You let him guide you to the couch, where he arranges cushions with quiet precision until you’re supported just right.

“There,” he says “Better?”

You relax almost immediately, shoulders loosening.

“…Yeah,” you admit “Much.”

He sits beside you, close but not crowding, his presence warm and constant.

For a moment, neither of you speaks.

Then he says, evenly, “Your breathing has returned to normal.”

You smile “You really monitor everything, don’t you?”

“I would call it awareness,” he answers “You are not a burden. You are a responsibility I accept willingly.”

Your chest tightens.

You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder.

Mihawk adjusts without a word, arm coming around you with quiet certainty “You are safe here.”

You close your eyes.

And in the stillness you understand that with Mihawk, care is never loud. Protection is never chaotic. Love is shown in small, deliberate acts that never waver.

The world may be sharp and unpredictable.

But here, in the quiet he builds around you, everything feels steady.

[wispitty]

(short reacts) | "you wake up in his arms" + one piece men

summary: you wake up, blinking at soft light, cozy warmth, and realize—you never made it back to your own bed last night.

characters: crocodile, mihawk, marco, ace, shanks, law, corazon

CROCODILE

You stir slowly.

His coat is still around you. His real arm is wrapped tight across your waist.

He’s awake. Barely.

“...You stayed?” you whisper.

“You fell asleep on me. I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

But he doesn’t move.

He just pulls you closer.

“Next time, don’t wait until midnight to come find me.”

You smile against his chest.

“Next time, will you still carry me back to bed?”

“Back to my bed? Every time.”

MIHAWK

You wake up with your face in the crook of his neck.

His arm is around your waist. His other hand interlaces his fingers with yours.

He opens his eyes slowly. Meets yours.

“You drooled on my collar.”

You flinch.

He doesn’t move.

Just reaches up and brushes your hair back with unbearable softness.

“You said goodnight, then stole my bed.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

He leans forward.

Kisses your forehead.

“Do it again tonight.”

MARCO

You wake up with your head on his chest.

He’s already awake, playing with your hair.

“You’re up.”

You nod. Smile against him.

“You’re comfy.”

“You’re dangerous.”

“Why?”

He laughs.

“Cause now I never wanna wake up without you right here, yoi.”

You nuzzle in closer.

He kisses the top of your head.

“G’mornin’, little songbird.”

And you think:

Maybe this is home.

ACE

You open your eyes.

He’s snoring softly. Drooling a little. Face pressed to your hair.

Then, you gasp—

“Mmnnngh… wait—Ace, you’re still here?!”

He jolts upright. Stares at you. Realizes you’re real.

“Wait, what?! Y-You fell asleep with me?!”

“You carried me last night, dummy.”

“Oh... yeah, that's right. I, uh, didn't have the key to your room so, just, uh, brought you to mine.”

You giggle, raise a brow.

“My door was unlocked.”

He blushes like a cherry and hides under the blanket.

“Go back to sleep,” he mumbles. “It's still early.”

“Heh. Okay.”

“...But also, uh, you should sleep here from now on.”

SHANKS

You wake up nose-to-nose with him after a party.

He’s smiling.

Eyes open.

One arm lazily wrapped around your waist.

“Hey there, trouble.”

“...Did I fall asleep on you?”

“You think I was gonna let you go regardless?”

You snort.

He leans in. Kisses your cheek and pulls you closer.

“Next time, just crawl in here with me directly. Save me the emotional damage.”

“So you did want me in your bed?”

“I always have.”

LAW

You’re in his lap.

He’s leaned back in the chair, blanket over both of you.

You wake up first.

Start to move.

“Don’t.”

You blink. Look up.

He’s awake, but his eyes are shut. His arms tighten.

“If you move, I’ll remember this was a dream.”

“It’s not?”

“Good.”

Then, very quietly:

“...I could get used to this.”

You smile. Rest your head against his.

“Me too.”

CORAZON

You wake up tucked under his coat, held against his chest like a teddy bear.

He’s asleep.

Holding your hand. Lips against your hair.

Your breath catches.

You shift slightly—

He stirs. Looks down.

Smiles.

And signs:

“Good morning, my heart.”

You lean up.

“Good morning, Rosinante.”

He kisses your lips.

You’re gone forever.

[monkeydlesbian]

minors dni

trafalgar law who prefers fingering over eating you out because he can hold you, snug against his side with one arm around your waist or shoulders, the other arm nestled between your thighs, two long, tattooed digits knuckle deep inside of your wet cunt.

trafalgar law who examines your face the entire time with such an intensity that you’re forced to look away, watching every single twitch and change of expression so he knows when you’re close.

trafalgar law who lets you pant into his mouth, pressing the most feather-light and clumsy kisses against your lips because he knows you don’t have the energy to properly kiss him while his fingers crook inside of you, pressing against that spongy spot repeatedly.

trafalgar law who uses his free hand to palm your breasts, run over your soft tummy, touches you anywhere and everywhere he can reach to get you closer to the edge.

trafalgar law who tells you to rub your clit once he sees you getting close, feels you clenching around his fingers more rapidly, muttering a low and gentle “touch yourself” against the heated skin of your cheek and pressing a kiss to it as if to reward you for obeying.

trafalgar law who tugs you closer as you finally come around his fingers, pressing his lips to yours in a messy and nasty kiss that’s all tongue in an attempt to swallow your pretty moans.

t-trafalgar law <3

[todomochi-uwu]

valentine´s day.

Pairing(s): Luffy x reader; Zoro x reader; Sanji x reader; Ace x reader; Law x reader; Sabo x reader Genre: Smut, fluff Warnings: This content is for a mature audience Synopsis: Happy Valentine's Day, my love. Author's notes: My, very late, Valentine´s Day gift to you, mochis. Purely smut. Hope you enjoy it. I think I'm blind from the amount of time I spent writing it. Love you. By the way, what would you think about more angst on this blog? Masterlist Kinktober masterlist If you enjoy my work, please consider asking for a commission or leaving me a tip! All kind of support is greatly appreciated 🫀

Luffy 

Your captain has no clue what day he lives in, much less that Valentine’s is coming, but thankfully, he’s got Sanji for that. 

So, when the day comes, he’s shoved into your room with a box of chocolates, a bouquet of flowers and the threat that if he dares eat any of the chocolates, the cook will shove his foot so far up inside his ass it will come out of his mouth. 

Sanji still can’t believe you decided to give your heart and soul to that monkey (he swears he loves his captain) 

You spend the evening in your room. Hearing him rant about anything and anything, laugh at his own jokes and play a guessing game only he can understand. 

In many ways, Luffy is a simple man and that brings you comfort. There are no hidden intentions, no mixed feelings or miscommunications. His love is clear and honest. Luffy just is. 

Which is why the words that come out of his mouth do not surprise you. 

“If I finger you, can I finish the rest of the candy?” 

No need to ask. 

Luffy might be oblivious to most things, but he knows you. And he knows exactly how you like it. Two of his fingers explore your insides like a map, massaging your walls and pressing against the places that make your toes curl. His lips suck on your tits, tongue running on top of them, his saliva making your skin shine. 

“Luffy...” You whine, grabbing onto the pillow with one hand and palming his cock over his shorts with the other one. He’s rock hard but seems to be in no rush to fuck you, content with the taste of your skin on his tongue. 

He hums against your skin before pulling away, a thread of spit connecting your nipple to his lips. He looks around, looking for something on the bed, but his fingers don’t stop for a second, his middle and index moving in a “come hither” motion while his thumb toys with your clit, “there they are!” He’s quick to grab the box of chocolates and open it up with his free hand.  

Food and sex together aren’t a weird concept in your relationship, so you pay no mind to it. That is, until he’s biting on a jam-filled candy and letting some of its filling fall on one of your nipples. Your eyebrows furrow, and your mouth opens in a gasp when he sucks it off you. 

“You make them taste even better, sweets”, he says more to himself, but you can see that the sweet treat has done something to him. His eyes are now half lidded, his mouth dribbles even more, and his pace grows harder. 

“Luffy! Fuck just like that!” You push your tits closer to his mouth. 

He continues the action again and again until the entire box is empty and you’re blissed out from the pleasure. It’s then that he says, 

“Now, I’m craving something else.” He licks the remains of the sugar off his lips and pulls down his shorts; his cock slaps against his abdomen. 

“That candy was great, Sanji! Thanks!” The younger man says as he pats his cook on the back. 

“Sure,” Sanji answered, defeated. No anger or energy left as he knows it was his fault Luffy got laid last night... fucking lucky monkey. 

Zoro 

Marimo is dumb when it comes to a lot of things. Directions, for example. But when it comes to you, one or two gears work in his brain. 

“You don’t have to remind me, twirly brows.” He says as he does crunches. 

“We don’t?” For once, Sanji is pleasantly surprised by the mosshead. 

“I’ve already got covered.” 

Nami doesn’t buy it. She narrows her eyes as she asks, “What did you get her?” 

“There was this fine liquor store at the last isla...” A punch landed on his head before he could finish. 

“I fucking knew it!” 

He isn’t that stupid... It’s just that alcohol clouds his thinking. 

Sanji and Nami have to punch him and get him back to his right senses, but in the end, it all works out. 

Rice balls, your favourite dessert, and, of course, sake. All while looking at the stars from the crow’s nest. You lean on his chest while he hugs you from behind. No words are needed; his touch and love are all you need. 

It isn’t until you feel his lips travelling down your neck, sucking on the skin, that you remember that drunk Zoro tends to be more handsy than sober Zoro. 

Your face is squished against the cold wood, your hands barely able to keep you in place, but that’s the last thing on your mind. His thrusts are brutal, unforgiving. Your juices spill down your cunt and his cock and land on the floor. Screams and cries of pleasure fall from the window, alerting the crew and any other ships near you. And Zoro couldn’t feel any prouder. 

“You like it rough, don’t you, woman.” He says as he takes a sip from the sake bottle. 

“Mmhm,” you nod, “yes, Zoro, please fuck me harder”, you whine. 

He laughs, but gives it to you, “You are such a whore for my cock.”  

His balls slap against your clitoris, your boobs bounce at his rhythm, and your hips bruise from his hard grip. His cock stretches and moulds your insides with every stroke; you have never been able to get used to his size, and you are sure you never will. Tan, long, thick, with multiple veins running across it, and a bulbous tip. You have explored it with every inch of your mouth and cunt; you are completely in love with his cock, and Zoro knows it. 

His hands spread your cheeks, watching the way his dick goes in and out of your sweet cunt, a white, milky ring around every time it comes out. 

“Tightest fucking cunt,” he moans. His dirty mouth is always what drives you crazy, he’s got no shame and no regard, speaking freely of how he feels or likes about fucking you, “you gonna make me cum, baby? Want me to fill you up?” 

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, Zoro. Please cum inside me.” 

“Don’t worry, girl. I’m gonna fuck you full.” 

His pace quickens, his hips moving with purpose. At this point, you can barely gasp his name; your head filled with only air and him. Your fingers press on your clit, your legs quiver and clench, desperate for release. 

“Come on, woman. Cum on my cock.” 

Your legs give out, but his hands are there to support you. He pulls you and presses you against his chest, continuing to move his hips as you chase your high. Your clit is beyond sensitive and exhausted, but the look he gives you is enough to fire you back up. 

“I’m not done with you.” 

The next day, while you can barely walk, he’s training his heart out. 

You sit next to Robin and Usopp, your head lying on the table as you groan from your tensed muscles. 

“Rough night?” Robin teases. 

“More like he gave it to her, rough,” Usopp adds. 

You feel like dying from embarrassment and tiredness. 

Robin just laughs behind her hand. 

Sanji 

The absolute master when it comes to romantic holidays 

He’s been preparing himself for this date for months (mentally for years, but no one must know that) 

Buying the finest ingredients at every island the crew stops, spending his entire share of money in things he knows you’d love and that remind him of you. 

In a calendar, he crosses out each day, getting closer and closer to the fateful date (Zoro makes fun of him every morning, and that’s the first fight of the day for both) 

Makes a list of everything he plans on cooking, decorating and doing for you and the crew (well..., more like you and the girls) 

The night before, make sure to secure the fridge with what appears to be a thousand locks and traps. Luffy still tries, but the sea stone chains seem to do the trick (thank gods) 

When the morning finally arrives, you find the cutest outfit hanging on the door, courtesy of your boyfriend’s money and Nami’s fashion input. 

And Sanji between your legs.  

He couldn’t help himself; he just had to have dessert first. 

“Sanji!” Your nerves and senses are just waking up, but you can feel every single stroke from his mouth. He alternates from sucking on your clit, humming around the little bud, and swiping his tongue up and down your entrance, licking and thrusting himself inside you. 

“Good morning, my love.” He pulls away for just a second, giving you a bright smile. His lower face is covered in your slick; the view makes you clench. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.” 

You open your mouth to answer, but only a moan escapes it. Sanji’s fingers were unforgiving in their pace, looking for that tender place inside of you. 

“You look absolutely beautiful, mon amour.” He mumbles against your core before diving back in. 

Sanji is no messy eater. He’s careful, precise and romantic; he knows your body better than he knows his own. You are a delicacy and deserve to be eaten as such. 

You grip and pull on the sheets, your legs tremble and close around his head, and your teeth break the skin of your lips, trying to conceal your moans so as not to wake up the rest of the crew. 

“Please, please, please, Sanji...” you beg, but he’s giving you everything and more. 

“Come on, my love. Give it to me, cum on my mouth.” He says against your lips, his tongue coming out to give a long lick on the underside of your clitoris. 

One of your hands comes up and pulls on your nipples while the other pulls on his hair, your head is thrown back, and you lift your hips off the bed. The chef is immensely enamoured with the view, his hips thrusting and humping against your bedding, trying to relieve some of the tension. 

“Cum, baby, please, cum for me.” 

And you do. The knot finally snaps, and your juices fly out of you, his face and the bed getting covered in them. His hand quickly moves to your clit, rapidly flicking it to prolong your pleasure. 

“Yes, yes, just like that, baby. Thank you, my sweet.” 

After that wonderful wake-up, he brings you breakfast in bed and continues doting on you. 

(By the way, Luffy is quite annoyed at the fact that only you get to have breakfast in bed.) 

Ace 

He’s somewhat prepared. 

He asked Thatch to teach him how to make a cake, but he figured if the cake took forty-five minutes at 175 °C to bake, then he could just triple the temperature, and that would lessen the time. With his Devil Fruit, that would be easy enough, right? 

Well, a burnt kitchen, a punch to the head and a visit to Marco made it clear that no, that wasn’t the way. 

One burnt cake and a lot of begging later, Ace found himself with a perfectly good cake. One, he had to fight the urge not to shove it down his throat. 

Izou was also nice enough to help him choose a lipstick for you. Ace was quite hesitant to ask him for help (since you still harbour a crush on the older commander), but the wanojin was a gentleman about it. Or at least, he tried. 

“I think this one will look nice on her, Ace,” Izou said, handing him the small tub. 

“Thanks, man.” He put on his backpack. 

“Sure. I’m sure she will look just as gorgeous as that night...” The samurai teased. 

“Okay, okay, man. Fuck off.” 

That night you had eaten cake, drank sake, laughed, danced and kissed by the light of the moon and the ease of the sea. The world seemed to disappear when it's just the two of you. 

You were elated and so, so grateful for your boyfriend, and you needed to thank him, repay him for such a date. 

A lightbulb went off. 

“Oh gods, baby girl.” Ace moaned, leaning back against the ship’s mast. 

You moved your head back and forth, lips wrapped around his thick cock, tongue tracing the underside. Your eyes firm on his, tearful from when you’d gag. 

His tongue traced his lips, then his teeth bit them, moans, cries and promises came out of them. He’d give you world, sun, moon and stars, whatever you want, just please, please suck him deeper. 

“Fuck, I fucking love your mouth, baby.” He let out a pleased laugh. 

Relaxing your throat, you took him deeper. Your jaw protesting, your breathing heavy and laboured, cheeks covered in tears, and you fighting back on your gag reflex, but you loved every second of the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 

You moaned around him, sending shivers down his spine. Then, you pulled away, gasping for air, your hand quick to replace your mouth. Saliva dripped down his shaft, your lips and hands, but you didn’t care. Your hand tightened around his length, jerking him just like he likes it. Your lips wrapped around the head, sucking and licking it, next your tongue travels up and down the rest of his dick. 

“You are so fucking good, so fucking good.” He groans. His fingers thread through your hair, pulling you closer to him. His hips move involuntarily, thrusting inside your mouth. His skin feels warmer than usual, and you know he’s losing control of his powers. 

You pull him out and spit on it, your hand focusing on the tip, “cum in my mouth, Ace.” 

He looks down at you and moans loudly. He absolutely loves cumming inside your mouth; it’s his second favourite thing. 

You show him your tongue, slapping his cock against, “please, please daddy, cum in my mouth.” Your eyes beg for it. 

His breathing grows heavier, his abs contract, his neck and face are pink-tinted and sweat runs down his freckles. One of his hands runs over his hair, pulling on it while the other caresses the back of yours. His hips move desperately; he can feel it, it’s coming. 

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum, baby girl.” He moans. 

You suck harder, faster. You need it. 

He fucks your mouth with such fervour you know there will be a bruise at the back of it, but you don’t care. 

“Fuck!” Spurts of his thick seed fill your mouth; his grip tightens on your hair, and hearts cover your eyes. Ace cumming is the most beautiful view in the world. Drowsy eyes, plumped, bitten lips, blushed, freckled cheeks and chest and the sweetest, hottest smile in the world. 

Ace went about his day as any other, happy and blissful from last night's events, oblivious to someone’s eyes. 

“’s a good, it was me who was on night watch and not Pops, right Acey?” 

The freckled went stiff, turning to the man watching him on the side. Izou. Izou with the biggest smile on his face. 

Law 

Sucks at romance and anything love-related but know he’s trying. He’s just stupid. 

Sachi and Penguin desperately try to help, but he quickly realises that even if those two get laid, it does not mean they know jack shit about love. 

(Dear gods, what would Cora-san do?) 

(Trip downstairs and light himself on fire probably, but with a bouquet of roses in hand nonetheless) 

So, Ikakku and Bepo are his best bets on that ship. 

Law may be a great captain, surgeon and pirate, and he happens to be hot, but my gods is he dumb. 

“Captain, you’ve been dating her for months; you cannot be this clueless.” Ikkaku groans. 

Law pouts and crosses his arms over his chest, looking away. Just like a small child, “I fail to see what’s wrong with my idea.” 

“Looking around for and classifying coins is not a date, Captain,” Bepo says, trying not to cry from the absurdity of the plan. 

“To me it is.” The surgeon grumbles. 

He and the polar bear plan and coordinate to stop at an island so you can have a date. Everything's been carefully examined and detailed to Law’s standards, but when does life ever go his way? 

That morning, he finds out the fucking Marine has completely taken over the island and its perimeters, so you had to change course immediately. The nearest island is two days away. Well, fuck. 

He’s pulling his hair out from the stress, barking orders around and hysterically looking for an idea. 

“Law?” You poke your head inside his office. His eyes are scanning every romance novel on the ship, but he finds nothing; all of them end in suicide. He just might... 

“Law.” You try again, this time stepping in. A tray in your hands. Two cups of tea, a candle, some matches, and two cups of instant noodles. 

His heart instantly churns at the sight. Of course, you had been the only one to pull something together. He can’t help but think you deserve better. 

“Love...” He’s out of words, the anxiety and exhaustion of the date finally catching up to him. 

“Bepo told me. Do not stress about it, babe. Happy Valentine’s Day.” You leaned down, kissing his cheek. 

Law groans, that wide mouth bear. 

The rest of the evening is spent with you sitting on his legs, sipping tea, recounting old tales and discussing various themes, and you love every second of it. 

Law is bad with feelings or words, but he knows there are other ways. 

“Law!” Your nails scratch his back, leaving angry red marks over the Jolly Roger tattooed on his skin. 

But he can’t seem to care less; his hips continue their assault on your cunt. His lips whisper sins against your ear, his hands grip on your hips, pull you closer and prevent you from slipping away from the pleasure only he can give you, “feel good, sweetheart? Do you like the way my cock’s so deep inside you?” 

You are long gone. Two orgasms with his fingers, one with his tongue, and now chasing another with his member, knocking on your cervix. Your mouth only knows his name, and your eyes gloss from the sight of him. His eyes dazed, passion and lust fill them, his eyebrows furrow and his lips open and close with every thrust. Moans and groans end up in your neck, along with some hickies. 

Law usually doesn’t allow himself to lose control like this, but he figures today is a special date. Sex tonight is loud, messy, and raw. He hasn’t felt this alive in years. 

His pace quickens, his rhythm grows desperate with every second, and the idea of you cum around his cock is the only thing on his mind. 

“Harder, faster, more, more, more, Law!” You don’t know what else you are asking for, but you can feel yourself hanging over the edge, just a bit more. 

And it's like he knows, his fingers press on your clit, drawing circles on top of it, that’s enough. You cum around his cock with a gasp and trembling, but he doesn’t relent. Your nerves cry in overstimulation, but Law is not done, not until he feels you again. 

“You are going to give me another one.” He declares. His hips don’t stop, and neither do his fingers and mouth. 

“’s too much...” you whine, throwing your head back and pushing against his chest. But he doesn’t allow you to run away. 

“One more, give me one more. Milk my cock, love.” His words are getting crasser, nastier, and that’s how you know Law’s head is filled with pleasure just as much as yours. 

“Law!” You cry out. 

“One more, one more...” He continues saying. Even if his cum drips down your cunt and legs, even if it can’t fit anymore inside of you. 

The next morning is payback for keeping the crew awake the entire night. 

“My gods, if you two are going to be that loud and nasty, at least have the decency to invite me, even if it's to watch,” Shachi says, while drinking his coffee, a smile on his face and dark bags under his eyes. 

“Shachi!” Law scolds him. 

Sabo 

You firmly believe there’s nothing hotter than a revolutionary. 

Sabo is that in the complete sense of the word. Dauntless, radical, rebel, mighty, strategic. His sense of justice took your breath away the second he opened his heart and mouth. 

And while your boyfriend is all that, he’s also a clueless idiot whose head is filled with food, his brothers, Dragon..., and, of course, you. 

It’s up to Koala and Ivankov to help him not disappoint his girlfriend on such a day. 

“You may be chief of staff, but you are also so unbelievably stupid it almost hurts, Sabo-kun,” Ivankov says as they arrange a beautiful bouquet of flowers. 

Koala nods as she watches him write a letter for you (that actually was his idea, but she left a big bump on his forehead just so he didn’t forget to do it.) “I know, I know.” He laughs but is secretly scared of receiving another “reminder” from his best friend. 

Dinner, flowers, gifts, the letter and a walk along Ivankov’s island’s beach. Quite the date if you were to ask Sabo, yet he couldn’t help but feel like something was once missing. 

Ah, right. 

Your thighs are burning from the motion, your knees crying from the sand that’s digging itself onto your skin, but you don’t dare stop. For his pleasure, and, selfishly, mostly for yours. His cock is hitting right on the spot, your entire body shivering in delight and encouraging you to go harder. Your hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled and stained, panties pushed to the side, tits popping out of your dress, and his pants pulled down just below his waist. 

Sabo is lying on the sand, arms behind his head and a bright smile on his face, biting his lips sometimes, moaning freely. The view is simply immaculate. You, jumping on top of him, choking his cock as your life depended on it, your tits bounce deliciously, and the ethereal look on your face is the most gorgeous you’ve ever looked. Using him for your own pleasure, he won’t complain about it. 

“Come on, baby. Give it to me harder, I know you want to.” His words rile you up, making you clench harder around him. 

“Oh gods, Sabo!” You close your eyes and scream, as nobody can hear you. And if anyone does, your boyfriend doesn’t care. 

He lifts one of his hands, “Slap!”, a hard smack against your bottom. 

You cry out, loving the pain, craving more of it, “Yes, please, please, more” 

He lands an even harder slap, “You like that, baby? You like being treated like a slut?” 

Your muscles are begging you to stop, but you can’t, you won’t, “Yes, Sabo!” 

“Who do you belong to?” Smack! 

“You!” 

Smack! “Who?” 

“Sabo!” Tears spill down your face, euphoria crawling all over your body. 

“Louder!” Smack! 

“Sabo!” It was simply too much. Your climax exploded between the two of you, head spinning, vision blurred, your legs shaking, and finally giving out, making you fall on top of him. You pressed yourself closer to his neck and cried out when his hips continued where you left off. 

“The island is big, Sabo; you guys didn’t have to fuck twenty feet away from the base,” Dragon said, pressing his hand against his eyelids, exasperated. 

“Ah, young love.” Ivankov laughed. 

[hey-august]

⚔️Put your panties where their mouth is

Warnings: nsfw, afab reader, buggy x reader. crocodile x reader, mihawk x reader, no pronouns used for reader, reader's genitals referred to as "she," vaginal sex, panties in the mouth (mostly)

WCs: 🎪~ 370, 🐊~ 480, 🦅~ 400, ~1.2k total

Tag: @rorywritesjunk

🎪Buggy the Clown

As much as you enjoy hearing how good Buggy feels, sometimes he is too damn loud.

He huffs, puffs, and bellows like a steam train. Dirty talk turns into whining and begging that increase in volume faster than the intensity of his own neediness. Groans claw themselves from his gut, leaving his throat scratched up the next day.

“Please, please don’t stop. Fuck, baby, you feel - fuck! - feelssogood.” The words slur together with how quickly Buggy rushes to speak.

Fingers dig into the meat of your thighs while he thrusts up into you, grunting loudly to emphasize his point.

You can hardly hear the slap of skin against skin over the din he creates. Any attempt you make to maintain some sense of auditory privacy fails. Buggy talks around the fingers you shove in his mouth, crying about how delicious they are. His lips move against yours. He drags his kisses across your face, closer to your ear so you can continue to have the pleasure of hearing him.

While you’re the only one he wants to sing his arousal aria to, threats and reminders of reality aren’t enough to shush him long enough. Even knocks on the door urgently demanding that Buggy shut the fuck up, holy shit do you know it’s past midnight?! only work for as long as it takes him to suck in another breath.

“Yeaaah, just like thaaaat,” Buggy moans, his voice droning longer than a foghorn. “S-so tight, babe, nngh~!” 

Enough is enough. Leaning forwards, you reach for something, anything that could dampen this one-man cacophony. His discarded bandana should be nearby and when your fingers wrap around a wad of fabric, you shove it into Buggy’s gaping maw. His latest bemoaning is brought to a reasonable level. And with your palm covering his mouth, it’s muffled even more. 

His jaw moves behind your hold, working around the object - gnawing on it and tonguing the bundle. Realization and silence fall over him at the same time. He looks up at you with wide-eyes and a mouth full of your panties.

“Just shut up and cum.”

Buggy nods and mumbles some sort of confirmation into your undies.

Whatever. At least he’s quieter now.

🐊 Sir Crocodile

“I can see how needy your body is,” Crocodile drawls as he teases you with the tip of his cock, his movements as slow as his words.

With your ass on the edge of his desk and legs spread wide, you don’t have a strong argument. And when Crocodile clicks his tongue, you lean back and expose yourself more. Maybe if you looked even more pathetic, he’d give you what you want.

He stops to slap his blunt head against your body, frustratingly too close and too far from where you really want him to be. Sticky from arousal, each hit makes a plap! noise - a sound he seems to find satisfying. A chuckle slips through his smirk.

“You really want it, hm? You want me that badly?”

“Yes, please! Croccy, stop teasing, I can’t take it,” you say in a voice that wavers between begging and demanding.

Another laugh - one that’s thick, rich, and heavy with condescension. “I almost expected that hungry little hole to answer me.” His equally thick cock prods at you, the tip threatening to wiggle in.

And that’s all you get. Despite how your body flutters, it fails to grasp at more of his slick head. It fails to entice him deeper.

“C’mon,” you pant, trying to push forward enough for him to breech the entryway, but not so much that you’d slip off his desk and scrape your back on the hard edge. Something you learned from previous experiences.

“Calm down, I’m working on it.” Crocodile’s voice is warm and relaxing, just like the feel of his large hand on your thigh. Soothing you with a lie.

He thrusts softly and slowly. And with each pump of his hips, he goes nowhere. The minuscule movements only press him against you harder. Just as he’s about to break through, the pressure lessens. 

You whine and beg and flatter, to no avail. You throw your head back and stare at the ceiling. You look Crocodile in the face. His smug, handsome face. You knock over a trinket on his desk. Accidentally at first, then intentionally. Hopefully one was Crocodile’s ashtray, because fuck him. 

Your legs start to shake. 

Tears build in your eyes. 

Your core aches. Not from the orgasm that you so desperately want, but from waiting and suffering too long through this delicious torture.

You’re not sure who’s more problematic in this moment - Crocodile for being a stubborn shit, or you for trying to will yourself to cum from not being penetrated.

Unable to hold the vast amounts of horniness and frustration swelling inside, you lash out. You kick and flail and throw something at him. Something soft and flimsy hits Crocodile right in the face. And it has the exact effect you want.

Crocodile brings his hand up to the panty projectile and allows himself a brief sniff before tossing the lace item aside. He grins and leans in, finally bringing himself close enough to slide into your aching cunt. 

“You little-”

🦅 Mihawk

You’re exactly where you want to be - back against the wall and Dracule Mihawk purring against your lips. His thrusts are slow and languid, ensuring you feel every bit of him sliding in and out. He pulls back until his erection is just barely kissing your drooling cunt, and his reentry is so soft and gradual that your body is lost somewhere between mourning his absence and relishing his presence. 

The trembling in your legs is immediately tended to. Mihawk shifts his hold, sliding the bend of your knees further up his forearms and leaving his hands free to grab and paw at your ass. His fingers dig into the fat as he spreads your cheeks, exposing you further to the chill of the air and the heat of his desire. And his own perversions.

He continues to devour you with lips, tongue, and teeth. But over the sound of his hunger grow filthy, wet noises. The squelching coming from your pussy is embarrassing and has you whining into Mihawk’s mouth. Begging him to make it stop. Rewarding him for making you feel this good.

“You want me so badly, my dear,” he murmurs. “I hear her crying for me.”

Fuck, you hold his head tightly in your hands and press your lips back to his, kissing him until your chest is burning and slick is dripping to the floor.

When you finally break the kiss, Mihawk presses his forehead against yours. “Mmmh, you t- fuck - you taste delicious.” 

His words are warm, but still cooler than the flush on your face.

“Would you like more?” Looking into the haze of his golden eyes, you know the answer.

“Indulge me,” he says with a grin. He’s been waiting for this offer.

Thankfully, in this position, you’re easily able to reach your ankle and the panties dangling there. The thin satin fabric is still damp from holding on to your earlier arousal.

You place them into Mihawk’s mouth, setting the wet fabric against his waiting tongue. His eyes flutter as he sucks on the moisture and breathes deeply. He savors this treat like the finest wine - letting the flavor soak into his spit and the scent fill his head.

With a pleasured groan, he rests his head against yours and continues to suckle your panties. He’ll stay just like that, fucking you at this delicious and frustrating pace until your wonderful taste is all gone.

A/N: I had to restrain myself from making Reader spit into their panties before putting them in Mihawk's mouth (but it's happening in my head). So...yeah. There you go!

[miruarium]

The king and his man👑🛡

(aka Baelor lives and Dunk eventually becomes part of his Kingsguard😌)

[cosmosnout]

Guys they’re literally fine what is everyone talking abt 🥀🥀🥀

[witchlingcirce]

Lyonel using a antler as a crutch… we get it bro your a Baratheon

[zhmurrka]

I'm getting worse alright

[reggiek1n]

the fact that I called my akotsk oc’s brother Beron Stark without knowing it already existed a canon Beron Stark, i’m too good at this

[bitethestag]

My Quick Lyonel Baratheon NSFW Headcanons

NSFW under the cut

His cock is average length but thick. He will stretch you out and take his time entering you the first time so as to not hurt you.

Absolutely a switch but even when he’s dominant, he’s a service dom. He only gets off on it if you’re getting off on it.

He can get loud. Groaning, swearing, growling, all of it.

Literally nothing shakes him. You’re hairy? You didn’t get to shower beforehand? You’re worrying about your body looking weird in certain positions? Queefing, gagging, whatever it be that might embarrass you. He does not bat an eye, as long as he still gets to fuck you. He promises you that whatever it is, he has seen weirder or worse. He’s seen it all.

This man looooves eating pussy and he’s not stopping until his beard is drenched. He might pull you aside just to eat you out and finish himself off with his hands. He can multi-task. If you yank on his hair, he might cum instantly.

He gets hard from absolutely nothing. You could be covered head to toe, and he’ll still find something that gets him going. He’s not shy about it either. If someone sees it, they see it. And don’t get embarrassed on his behalf. It’ll only make him harder.

He likes pain but not inflicting it on his partner. Pull his hair, scratch his back, beat him up. He lives for it.

Pain might be off the table for you, but tickling is not. He will pin you down and tickle you until you can’t breathe. Your giggling gets him all hot and bothered. He’ll insist that he’s not ticklish, so don’t even bother, but if you do: instantly and painfully hard.

Aftercare consists of talking shit and giggling in bed.