#one piece shanks

[tvorogzok]

The very first page made me cry shut up

[majubengel]

Some One Piece x Brasil Illustrations :)

[ghosirit]

He’s not getting up is he…. 🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️

[deadvampzs]

Shanks x reader

“Shanks!”

You shouted Shanks’s name so loud the whole ship could hear. Seated at the round table, he had a glass of beer by his side and cards in his hand as he played with Beckman and the others. Judging by the unhappy look on his face, he was definitely losing…As always.

However, that unhappiness vanished when he heard you calling for him. Shanks was already used to you yelling his name like that. It didn’t matter if your anger was directed at him or some other poor soul; he always had a broad smile on his face as he followed the sound of your voice and set his eyes on you. “Yes, dear wife?”

Luckily for Shanks, today the target of your anger wasn’t him.

“Tell him I’m not high maintenance!" You stomped your foot on the wooden floor in protest as pointed furiously at Yasopp.

A few minutes ago, he had the audacity to say that Shanks was indeed a patient man, since he would never have enough patience for such a high maintenance wife. You’d have told him he didn’t even have patience for the sick wife he left years ago if it weren’t for the indignation consuming you. How dare he?

And of course, a heated argument between you two ensued until the moment you slammed your fist on the table and stormed out in search of Shanks. This time, he would be the mediator in the conflict between Yasopp and you — but not as captain, but as your husband.

However, among all the scenarios you had anticipated, Shanks’s loud laughter echoing across the sea was certainly not one of them. You stared at him blankly, still processing what was happening. Right beside you, Yasopp wore a smug smile, taking the argument as won. Bastard.

“And why would I say that?” Shanks said after finally stopping laughing. He wiped a tear from his right eye as he looked at you again. “You are high maintenance.”

A shocked gasp escaped your lips. That damn traitor.

“From now on, you’re at the top of my list, Akagami no Shanks.” You delivered your warning with eyes narrowed in disbelief and a sense of betrayal consuming you as pointed a finger at him. He’d chosen a side, and it wasn’t yours. “I hope you enjoy sleeping with Beckman tonight.”

A chorus of teasing whistles sang when the final verdict was delivered. Shanks would be punished, but you’d guaranteed the crew the best entertainment of all: teasing their captain.

They were already planning their little jokes when Shanks set the cards down on the table to grab your arm, stopping you from storming off as you passed him. Neither the threat nor the malicious giggles bothered him. The casual way he acted, as if he hadn’t just said you were a horrible wife, infuriated you even more.

“You don’t need to get upset about this,” he said as he sat you on his lap. Angry, you tried to get up, but his arm around your waist held you back. Shanks didn’t need both arms to be unnecessarily strong. “It’s not a big deal.”

You looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Excuse me? Of course it is!”

“Why? You’re high maintenance, but what’s wrong with that?” The wide smile on his face was replaced by a smaller, more affectionate and gentle one. He used a soft tone of voice too, the same one he used when he wanted to comfort you.

“Sure, you complain about little things and stress over details you can’t control and a million other things, but that’s okay.” Liking what Shanks was saying, you stopped squirming in his lap and now didn’t look away from his eyes. “It doesn’t bother me at all.”

“No?” you asked shyly, unconsciously snuggling into his chest.

“Of course not,” Shanks reaffirmed, suddenly wishing he had the other arm so he could caress your face. You looked at him so sweetly, the complete opposite of just a few minutes ago, that he felt like he was about to melt.

“And I’m totally fine with you getting upset about these things, and you know why?” You shook your head, waiting for his answer. “Because I’m really good at making you feel better afterward. Let Yasopp say whatever he wants; I love it when you come to me when something’s bothering you.”

Playing with his open shirt, a silly smile followed by a youthful giggle escaped you despite your best efforts. You fought not to smile like a lovesick idiot, you really did, but you lost the battle — Shanks really was very good at comforting you.

Alternating your gaze between him and the crew watching you two, you shrugged, cheerful, as you addressed them with a wide smile.

“To hell with you all,” especially Yasopp, “I have the best husband.”

No need to say that Beckman would be sleeping alone tonight.

a/n: of course monica and chandler inspired me, i love them

[norel-ravenclaw]

Improper Uses Of Devil Fruits, Haki, & More

//Primary Character Set//

Fandom: One Piece

Featured characters: //Primary Set// Shanks - Ace - Smoker - Law - Vivi - Luffy - Zoro - Nami - Sanji - Usopp - Robin - Franky - Corazon - Marco - Aokiji Kuzan - Sabo x gn reader

Description: Improper use of Devil Fruit powers, Haki, and other tools~

Rating: 18+

Word count: 1500 / ~150 per character

WARNINGS: | gender neutral reader | all the sex, just all of it | object play/insertion | bondage | human-beast forms | power imbalance | temperature and other element play | knife play | semi public | size kink | pervy shit | bdsm |

//Villain Set// //Secondary Set//

Shanks

He likes keeping it light with you. But you keep reminding him that you can handle more. His bad days, bad moods, his pain, his anger. Sometimes you can get him to crack when in bed. Even if he doesn’t want to talk about things, letting out his feelings through you is more appealing. Letting him get a bit rough, losing control and letting his usual lightheartedness fall aside - it’s a hell of a ride. If you can get him really riled up, you might be able to persuade him to use haki on you. Enough to leave you weak so he can manhandle you. Enough to invade your mind to make you desperate to submit. He feels more like a king at those moments than usual, above you with his red hair in his face, eyes glowing slightly. His words are commanding, filthy, but at the end of the day, he’s still him, and there’s always a soft edge in the midst of his control lost. You are his, and he doesn’t lose his affection for you. Ever.

Ace

Your freckled lover is as full of energy and passion as he is joy and pain. To have someone to love, who loves him unconditionally and is glad he’s alive - he’d do anything for you. Anything to protect you. Even from himself. He’s never too rough in bed, never leaving more than small bruises. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to persuade him to use his devil fruit with you. At first it’s only ever to warm you up, letting just enough heat escape. But finally, he agrees to try it in bed. He holds a single finger with flame over your skin, warming your most sensitive places until you squirm. When he fingers you, he lets the heat build enough to get you to arch your hips. He’s always careful and so cuddly afterwards, spoiling you with aftercare until you drag him under the covers with you and make him sleep.

Smoker

He’s a simple man, straightforward and confident. But if you bring it up, he might be willing to try some things with you. Once, you ask him to experiment - turning his hand to smoke and running it under your clothes. Then he makes it coalesce, able to fondle you from across the room. He swears he’d never do it in public. And for a long time he doesn’t. (But he always blushes when you bring it up.) The day he’s tempted to actually do it, he brings you home at the end of the night, annoyed with himself for nearly getting carried away. Deciding to punish you for putting such obscene ideas in his head… another enters his mind. His sea prism stone staff leans against the wall by the bed. You snatch it before he can change his mind and put on a show of grinding against it. He instantly regrets it, punishing you with his cock all night for corrupting his mind.

Law

He is your lover, your captain, your doctor. And you trust him completely. He’s also weird. You know this. When he removes your kidneys to look them over, keeping them on his desk for a few days, it’s a sign of love and concern for your wellbeing. If he offers to remove your tits when you want to lay on your stomach? There’s really nothing weird about it. At least squeezing it in its unearthly gelatine-like containment would feel pleasant. Now, asking for your most sensitive spot, your clit or tip... That’s weird. To keep it in his pocket for the day, rubbing and squishing lightly. Your body hardly knows what to make of the sensation. The crew gets concerned when you crumple at the dinner table. You’re so red, shaking - best go to the captain’s office to have him check you over~

Vivi

Your princess has a deep, abiding respect and love for her people, her culture. But she is also stressed, the weight of their future on her shoulders. Is it an act of rebellion, or a filthy lifelong dream, then, when she brings you to the throne room in the middle of the night - and asks you to fuck her on it. Wearing sheer silks that vaguely speak to a nightgown, she’ll tempt you into the regal, worn seat. A place of power and authority, meant for dignity. But there is little dignified about it as she braces her hands on the armrests and grinds herself into you, excepting for her natural grace. The filthy sounds echoing in the empty stone room make you wonder how many pent up royals have dared to misbehave like this here during its thousand year history. Your three am interlude may not end up in any book of palace scandals, but if there were such a thing, it would make the first page, bar none.

Luffy

Your captain often has little sense of good timing. Or limits. He wants what he wants, and doesn’t give a damn if it’s weird. So he drags you off for sex at every whim. And he pushes you both to make it more exciting, more fun. Deeper, faster, stranger positions to test your balance. He’ll stretch in odd ways, to hold you, restrain you, to reach parts of you no one else could. Smirking as he insists on testing your limits, he’ll carefully stretch himself when inside you, curious to see how much you can take. He’ll help you prep for fisting, for odd positions. He’s grinning the whole time as you let yourself get roped into these insane ideas of his. But the pleasure eventually wears down your complaints. He knows this and abuses it like the cheeky little shit he is. You love your captain as much as he loves you, after all.

Zoro

It takes convincing for him to not treat sex like a training exercise with you. But when you don’t bother to try, he loves pushing you to your absolute limit. And once he begins integrating haki into his practicing, the idea strikes him to try it on you. It takes a few tries to not knock you out entirely. But sometimes when he’s feeling mean, he’ll do it on purpose and carry you to bed to make you rest. If you’ve given him permission to use you when you’re asleep, he’ll take you up on that from time to time. He works with you - in you - to train your resistance to haki, pummelling you in every sense until you can handle more and more of it. Of him. He never looks at you with as much pride and affection as when you’ve proved yourself again. Your strength, and your love and trust of him.

Nami

She likes being in control, generally, even once she’s come to trust you entirely. She wants what she wants, showing her pirate nature in bed more often than not. As much as she loves stealing valuables and berris, she loves stealing orgasms from you just as much. And using her hands and mouth are all well and good, but sometimes she wants just a bit more. Something… exciting. Sitting in her locker is the original Climatact she’d used, abandoned for the new one. Zeus is unimpressed with your antics, so he gets put away when she’s feeling frisky. But the old one… is not possessed. And after a drunken night, she pulls it out once you’re both nearly undressed, and makes you grind against it. The rounded end rubs so nicely against your sensitive spots, and it feels so good to be in control of your movements in this depraved game. She may insist you never speak of it again, but she blushes every time she sees the blue baton again.

Sanji

He’s the ultimate romantic, but he can’t deny his shameful fantasies. Food play? He’ll be thrilled if you let him play out those classic kinky ideas. (He gets a nosebleed every time he sees chocolate again for months.) As much as he loves sweet lovemaking, every so often, his daydreams just want to come to life. If you like roleplaying, he’ll lean into it more, spending all night leading up to the final event, falling asleep naked together once it’s over. One of his guilty pleasures? Very guilty… What if he’d gotten his hands on the invisibility devil fruit? He’s terrified to tell you about that fantasy, but if you’ll indulge him? Take a shower and let him pretend to be invisible, fondling turning into fucking. In your room as you get undressed for the night, everyone else away? He’s never felt so filthy, so fulfilled, so in love with you - who dares to love even his darkest sides.

Usopp

He’s always so eager to please you, to make sure you never get bored of him. And it’s led him to innovate in his workshop to make custom toys for you. Some he uses on you himself, others he leaves for you to use when he’s away. There’s a few modelled after him, embarrassed though he was to make them. You’re sworn to keep those especially hidden. But on the days when he is feeling like a king (no relation to Sogeking), like the god he’s been dubbed, he gets bolder. He relishes your trust, your eagerness. And in the most Usopp way possible, he tests that. Making you cum over and over for him. Getting you to do as he says. But once the games are over, the toys are set aside and he takes you himself - just himself. The very human version of him that he entrusts you with.

Robin

Your goddess of a girlfriend has a naughty streak. Everyone knows this. She teases so demurely with that devastating smirk of hers. And with her power? Of course she’s going to torment you with it. She is your sweet demon, after all. Let her bloom a hand in your shirt to “feel your heartbeat”, and… other things like a stress ball. Can she make you come from nipple stimulation alone? She’d love to find out~ And if she blooms a hand in your pants? Good luck functioning. Just before you cum, the pressure will vanish in a puff of petals. And she’ll grin slightly at your exasperated, desperate expression. And a tongue? Well, if Sanji is late with snacks then what is a girl to do? You just be good for her and let her take what she needs, and she’ll take care of you.

Franky

For all that our favourite cyborg is a big softie and weirdo, he’s also a self professed pervert. (I mean he practically met his best friend when she grabbed his balls, so.) Does that translate to the bedroom? Would you dare suggest he doesn’t have a trunk filled with custom dick attachments for you to try? And if you’re really feeling naughty, you know he’d build you fucking machines, vibrators, dildo panties?? Hell yeah, he’d study your body to figure out the perfect length and shape to fill you and rub your most sensitive places. A bra/shirt with vibrators? He’ll make them extra quiet. There is zero judgement and zero shame when it comes to your big blue haired boyfriend, so ask for anything. He thinks it’s totally super to make you happy any damned way at all.

Corazon

Everything about being with him is risky - from his clumsiness and fire hazard, to his sheer size, to his dangerous brother and job. But even with all that, he still likes the risk of stealing moments with you. Of dragging you into a back alley or room, casting Silence, and fucking you against the wall. Whenever he can get away from it all with you, he’ll make you scream and sob on his cock and long fingers, at any hour of day or night. He has little patience when it comes to you, and his own dark urges tempt him. None more than to absolutely ruin you at every chance. You are his salvation and stress relief, his love is obsessive and possessive, and his guilt makes him desperate to reward you for putting up with him. You might have to start wearing red lipstick to hide your dalliances, but at least no one will hear a thing.

Marco

There are two questions to consider with Marco and his devil fruit - would he dare be willing to give you hard play if you wanted it, considering his ability to heal you during and after? And would he be willing to fuck you in his half or full Zoan form? Since he’s a doctor, he might possibly be persuaded to give you rougher treatment if you begged. He hates to see you hurt, but perhaps the thrill of being able to give you what you want while knowing nothing will linger to hurt you would be acceptable. As for using his Zoan phoenix? I can’t imagine he’d say no. Getting to fly with you in his half form, fucking you in the air, secured to him with his bigger than normal cock? How could either of you resist that? As for his full form, maybe those avian nesting instincts will come through after all.

Aokiji Kuzan

He is always willing to use his powers for you. Want to cool your drink? Done. Need to cool down a fever, or on a hot day? Easy. From a workout? Well, it will take some effort to not be pervy about it, but he’ll cool you down any way you like. But in bed? He’s perfected it as an art form. He’s learned how to alter the type of ice or frost to not make the bite of the chill so sharp. So he can paint your body in flowering frost blooms, framing your chest and sex with it. He knows just the right temperature to use between your legs - outside and inside. And if you’re bold enough to be willing to try ice dildos? Suddenly you have five laid out on the bed to choose from depending on how bold you’re feeling and how much of a stretch you want. But usually he keeps them smaller than himself - you’ll need to warm up after all that intense play, after all.

Sabo

In some ways, he is more bold and daring than Ace, and this is true when it comes to using his powers in the bedroom. He’s been a Revolutionary for so long, he’s stressed, he’s repressed, and he wants to let loose and not have to hold back. Sex with him is often fast and fiery (especially before he gains better control of his powers.) But once he’s confident he can play with them safely, he begs you to let him tease you with his flames often. He loves the flush on your skin, the way your breath catches, especially as he rocks into you. Your trust and begging lights him up without fail. And he enjoys showing off besides, making flames quickly dance across your skin in a snaking trail, vanishing before you feel much of the heat at all. It’s his favourite way to peak your nipples~

[eirasera]

you chose him. and he made sure you’d never forget it

shanks x virgin younger f!reader (of age) , mdni , not proofread

cw: loss of virginity, soft dom shanks , praise kink , oral sex (f. receiving) , size kink , there's aftercare , reader is nervous , affectionate smut overall , captain x crew dynamic

he’s been patient with you all night long.

letting you come close on your own terms — fingers brushing his arm, your thighs grazing his when you shift beside him.

the sun had long since dipped into the sea, painting the deck in deep orange before fading entirely. and now you’re here — his quarters, quiet, dark but for the faint lantern glow, your back pressed to the bedpost while you watch him, nerves tight and fluttering.

he sits at the edge, shirtless, legs spread just slightly. his good arm slung loose over his thigh. calm. grounded. but his gaze is heavy — it pins you in place without a word.

“you sure?” he murmurs, voice low and rough from the sea air. “not just curious.”

you nod once. then again — harder — when he doesn’t make a move.

“i want it to be you,” you whisper.

something flickers behind his eyes. “come here.”

you crawl over the blankets, heart thudding hard enough to feel it in your fingertips. each movement drags you closer to his warmth — closer to the steady scent of salt, masculine , to that calm, unshakable gravity that wraps around him like a tide.

his hand touches your face first — slow, deliberate. his palm is broad, thumb calloused as it traces the edge of your jaw, then your lips.

“not gonna rush you,” he says, though his fingers are already tilting your chin. “but i’m not gonna stop once we start.”

your stomach flips. the words sink in like heat, like pressure. a quiet promise, dangerous and kind.

he kisses you like he means to memorize you. full lips, slow moving. his tongue grazes yours and lingers, unhurried, until you lean in on instinct, drunk off it. your breath stutters when he deepens it — his singular hand pressing down your back, pulling you into his chest.

your legs squeeze together tight, you’re already aching, you grind into him just slightly, caught in the pull of his mouth.

he chuckles softly against your lips. “easy,” he murmurs. “we’ve got time.”

you nod, swallowing, but your pulse won’t settle.

he lays you down like you’re something precious. peels your clothes off piece by piece, his mouth trailing after each one — your collarbones, the curve of your ribs, the dip of your belly. when he reaches your panties, he hooks one finger beneath the waistband and waits for your eyes.

“let me see you.” your breath hitches. you nod. he slides them down slow, gaze darkening as he takes you in.

“fuck,” he breathes, voice rougher now. “you’re perfect.” his hand eases your legs apart. he settles between them like it’s instinct — like it’s home — and lowers his head with the reverence of worship.

his tongue touches you and your whole body jolts. "s-shanks—!”

he groans softly, palm skimming your skin, thumbs holding you open. “just let me taste you, sweetheart.”

and he does. deep, steady licks that melt your spine. he flicks your clit, dips his tongue inside you, eats you like you’re the first thing he’s wanted in days. every stroke has purpose — every movement practiced. your legs begin to tremble. your hips twitch.

he draws a sharp cry from you when he sucks your clit. “sensitive, huh?” he murmurs, his thumb dragging gently along your slick folds. “so fuckin’ sweet…”

then he slides a finger into you, careful and slow. your walls pulse at the intrusion, unfamiliar and stretching.

“still snug,” he mutters under his breath. “just like i thought.”

he curls his finger inside you, watches the way your body reacts, reads you like the sea. when you’re soaked and gasping, he adds another. his tongue finds your clit again, circling as his fingers move in tandem, deep and purposeful.

you come before you even know it’s happening.

your hips buck. your knees lock. your mouth opens on a breathless moan.

he doesn’t stop. just licks you through it, fingers working you gently as you twitch and shake. even when your legs jerk, even when the sensitivity bites.

only when you whimper, overstimulated and wrecked, does he finally pull back.

his mouth is slick with you. he wipes it with the back of his hand and smiles. “good girl.”

you’re panting, vision hazy. and then your eyes drift down. and you see it. his cock. and your lungs skip: it’s big.

thick, flushed, the head swollen and dark with need. veins line the shaft — subtle but real — pulsing as he strokes it slow, casual, like he’s in no hurry at all. it curves slightly upward, bold and heavy, resting against his lower stomach like it already knows what it’s going to do to you.

your legs squeeze together instinctively. he notices.

“you’re okay,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your cheek, your mouth, your throat. “i’ll go slow.” you nod, trembling, spread open for him.

he lines up carefully, the tip dragging through your slick, pressing to your entrance with the weight of inevitability.

“gonna feel full,” he murmurs, voice low and dark. “gonna stretch you open real nice.”

he pushes in slow: the burn hits fast — sharp at first, then duller, deeper, the kind that takes your breath away. your eyes well up. your lungs fight for air.

he stills instantly, forehead resting against yours.

“breathe, sweetheart, just breathe. you’re doin’ perfect.” you force a breath through your nose.

it hurts. but it’s good — the kind of hurt that leaves heat in its wake. the kind that fills you, makes space in your body where there was none before.

he’s only halfway in and you feel so full. stretched to your limit. “just a little more,” he groans, teeth grit. “so fuckin’ tight…”

he sinks the rest of the way in with one long, smooth thrust. your back arches. your mouth opens on a silent cry. your hands cling onto his broad shoulders like they’re the only solid thing left.

he kisses you through it. “fuck,” he rasps, barely moving. “you’re gripping me so good…”

he waits. only when you nod — tiny and trembling — does he start to move.

measured at first. his hips draw back, almost all the way, then roll back in, steady and deep. each stroke presses into the sore, tender ache inside you. each thrust makes the bed creak beneath his weight. your body trembles. your breath stutters. your pussy tightens around him.

“feels good, doesn’t it?” he mutters, thumb brushing beneath your knee as he lifts your leg, angling you wider. “feel how deep i am, sweetheart?”

you gasp, voice shaking. “shanks—i can’t—”

“you can,” he breathes, kissing the edge of your mouth. “you’re takin’ me so good. look at you—so fuckin’ beautiful like this.”

his praise wrecks you. it sinks deep, makes your cunt flutter, your thighs pull tighter around his hips. he groans, hips working into you steady and deliberate — grinding with every push to make sure you feel him in your chest.

“you don’t even know what you’re doin’ to me,” he whispers, voice nearly broken. “so warm. so fuckin’ perfect. you were made for me.”

his weight holds you down, his body heavy on yours, hips rolling low and thorough. every thrust rubs against something sharp inside — something that makes your breath catch and your back arch.

you feel the build before you even know what’s happening. sharp. blinding. sudden.

your legs shake. your belly coils tight.

“you gonna come again?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “go on, give it to me. let me feel it.”

your body obeys before your voice can. your cunt pulses hard, a cry rising loud and broken as you fall apart around him.

he groans as your body flutters and squeezes around his cock, fucking you through it, slow and unrelenting until you’re gasping, whimpering, twitching beneath him.

“fuck—just like that,” he breathes. “milk me, sweetheart, that’s it…”

his rhythm falters. you feel his arm tighten, his hips press in deep, flush against yours. his breath stutters against your neck as he groans, low and rough, and spills inside you.

you feel the warmth of it flood you. pulse after pulse, then stillness: he doesn’t move for a long time.

just holds you there — his cock still buried deep, your bodies locked together, skin slick and breath tangled.

his hand drags down your thigh, soft and grounding. he kisses your temple. your cheek. the spot beneath your jaw where your pulse still flutters wild.

“you still with me?” he murmurs. you nod. barely.

“good.” he breathes out slow. his hand strokes your hip, lazy circles. “you did so good for me.”

your voice is hoarse. “you’re done?” he chuckles, the sound warm against your shoulder. “yeah. you need rest, not more cock. think your body’s had enough for tonight.”

he pulls out slow, careful. kisses your inner thigh when you flinch from the sensitivity.

you feel his spend leak out of you — sticky, hot. his fingers return with a cloth, wiping gently, murmuring soft apologies when you whimper from the soreness.

when he’s done, he tugs you into him: your back against his chest, the blankets pulled around you both. “you okay?” he asks again, voice quiet. you nod. “mmm..jus' sore.”

he smiles against your shoulder. “that’s ‘cause you were so fuckin’ tight. don’t worry—you’ll be walkin’ fine by morning. maybe.”

you laugh, barely. he kisses your shoulder again.

then he holds you, one arm tucked firm around your waist, like nothing in the world could shake it loose, and for once, you believe — believe he won’t.

you let your eyes flutter closed, warm and aching in his embrace. then it hits you — how loud the bed must’ve been, creaking under every slow thrust.

you bury your face in his chest, already dreading the smug looks you’ll get tomorrow.

divider by @/cafekitsune

[todomochi-uwu]

red pleasure. (1/3) | Shanks

DAY 4. praise kink, multiple orgasms, creampie 🫀 | Shanks  Pairing(s): Shanks x reader Genre: Smut Warnings: This content is for a mature audience. Synopsis: Once again, you ended up in the middle of one of his midnight adventures. Author's notes: First time writing for Shanks, and I was really nervous, but excited. Did I do a good job? Hope you liked it! This will be a three-part fic, so stay tuned to see the next parts, maybe a little hawk-eyed vampire might show up *wink, wink* Thank you, @tsunami-of-tears, for the gorgeous dividers. Leave a comment to get tagged on the next days! Masterlist Kinktober masterlist If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee

It’s not the first time you and the redhead have crossed looks; in fact, every time you do, it gets harder to look away. You won’t lie; Shanks is quite an attractive man. Handsome, powerful, a yonkou..., but you can’t allow yourself to get distracted by this. He’s a pirate at the end of the day; you are too, and know his type. You won’t compromise your morals and values for any dick... no matter how good, or big, or experienced or, or ...

Yeah, you aren’t that strong, and to be honest, you can’t really blame yourself. Not when he approached and you tried to ignore him and failed at it, not when he flirted with you and your body immediately betrayed you, not when he was sucking on your tongue, and certainly not when he’s eating you out in a cheap motel on the outskirts of the island.

To be honest, anyone could see this coming. You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t want the redhead pirate, but the long, lonely nights have taken a toll on you, and the lack of decent men isn’t helping either, so you bargain with your brain. This will only be a one-night stand. Easy enough.

Shanks doesn’t seem to mind, as long as he gets to have a taste of your body, why should he care? He sees you once in a blue moon, and you are both adults who can establish a mutually beneficial sexual relationship, right? right?

Sucking Shank’s off is something you truly believe everyone should do at least once in their life. The pleasure in the sounds he makes, the bliss on his face, the feeling of him in your mouth is truly something one cannot describe; one must see it for themselves.

“Fuck, gorgeous. How are you so good at this?” He looks you in the eyes with a cheeky smile. He strokes your face before running his thumb over your bottom lip, “mmm, you take me so well.”

Your lips are open to their capacity, your jaw is screaming for relief, but you won’t allow yourself to back out. What you can’t handle, you massage with your hand, and that seems to satisfy him. Every time you gag, he lets out even more delicious sounds that only motivate you to keep going.

“You are such a good girl, sucking my cock so good.” He groans after your tongue caresses a specific point in his length, “I don’t know how I will go on after having a taste of that sweet mouth.”

His words go straight to your core, making it clench. You moan around him, taking it further down your throat. For some reason, you feel like trying even harder to please him.

Shanks sighs, amused by your dedication. He grabs your hair and runs his fingers through your scalp, “mm, I love your mouth.”

Groans and gags fill the room, making you dizzy. One of your hands leaves his body and goes down on you; you are desperate for any kind of stimulation. Your fingers spread your wetness around and finally fucking yourself for any sort of relief.

He straightens up to get a better look, once he realizes what you are doing, “poor little thing, I’ve neglected you, haven’t I?” A wet “pop” sounds when he pulls himself out of your mouth; you whimper, wanting him back, but he’s got other plans.

“Come up here, baby. It’s my turn to serve you.” You get up and sit on the bed, going to kiss him, but he stops you, “I want you to sit on my face.” He lies down.

Your cheeks get so impossibly flushed they hurt. No one had offered that before, and you aren’t sure who to do it, so you hesitate.

“Honey?” He sits up, worried he’s made you uncomfortable or crossed any boundaries.

“Um..., I, uh, I have never...” You can’t look him in the eyes for some reason; you feel like a virgin all over again.

“Oh, you’ve never sat on anyone’s face?” He says it as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Well..., no.”

“That’s okay. Do you wanna try or do you prefer I eat you out in another position?”

Your entire face hurts now; how can those lewd words come out of him as nothing? “I don’t want to hurt you or suffocate you.”

He smiles, “Do you think I’m that weak?”

“I didn’t say that it’s just...”

“You don’t have to worry about me, baby.” He lays his head against the pillows, looking at you before looking at the ceiling, “I love it when they ride my face.”

Oh.

At first, your attempts at doing so are shy and awkward; you don’t lean down enough, or you immediately jump when you feel his breath against you, but he’s there to reassure you. Shanks kisses your thighs, his nose rubs on your clit, and finally, his tongue strokes your labia.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

You nod, still unsure, but in just a few seconds, he’ll make you change your mind.

He takes, takes, and only takes. Slurping, sucking, eating your entire cunt with no precision or plan, listening to your body, and guiding himself with the way you moan and clench around his tongue. Your hand pulls on his hair, while the other desperately grasps the bedhead. Your hips move on their own, chasing his mouth, riding his tongue like he wanted you to.

“Shanks...” you cry out his name, eager for whatever he’ll give you.

Your eyes may be closed, but his aren’t. He’s looking right at you, at the expressions you make, at the way your breasts bounce when your hips dance at the tempo of his lapping, and this brings him great pleasure. He can’t believe you’ve never done this before, or better yet, that no one has offered to do this for you, but he can’t help but feel quite honored at being the first.

You lean back, your hands resting on his chest, to get a better look at him. You can see your juices smeared on his face, some blush on his cheeks, and a great lot of satisfaction in his eyes, the scar on his left side never looking sexier. Without realizing how close you are, you are thrown over the edge with a suck on your clit.

You gasp and fall onto his chest. You shake and laugh at this, a bit embarrassed, but his playful smirk comforts you. You are still trying to catch your breath and come back down to earth when he lays you down on the bed.

“Had a good time?” He checks on you.

You simply smile and nod, biting your lip just from the sight of his naked body.

“That’s good. You looked absolutely gorgeous, by the way. Thank you for the meal.” He laughs when you hit him on the chest.

His lips are soon attached to your neck, kissing and biting his way down to your breasts; his hand is welcomed back by your vulva, and his fingers invade your insides, preparing you for him.

He latches onto one of your nipples and makes it his mission to claim it as his, pulling on it and bruising the skin around it, “I want you to remember me when you look at yourself in the mirror,” he whispers in your ear.

His digits moved around, exploring, feeling, wandering until they find it, the spot that’s got you seeing stars. Your nails dig into his shoulder, and he groans at the action, but never lets go of your boobs.

“Shanks!”

“Come on, sweetheart.” He kisses your skin, “Come on, give me another one and I’ll give you what you want.”

His rhythm is relentless, knocking the air out of you, your legs thrash around, and you can barely hear what he’s saying, but just the sound of his voice is enough to stimulate you. It doesn’t take much for him to bring you to another orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. So good, baby, so, so good.” He says as he leaves small kisses on your lips.

Your eyes are closed, seeing small sparks and spots behind your lids, and your lips are dry and desperate for any kind of hydration. Your lungs slowly fill back up, and you can feel the muscles of your labia twitching, but euphoria covers your body, and you’ve never felt better.

And it’s between the bliss and tiredness that you don’t notice him getting in between your legs and pushing the tip of his cock against your entrance.

“I can’t wait any longer, I’ve got to have you,” Shanks says as he thrusts inside of you.

You open your lips in a silent scream, not quite ready for his size, but you aren’t one to give up. When he asks if you’d like him to slow down, you shake your head and kiss him.

He reaches places no one has ever before, his length hitting every nerve and wall in you, his hand grabbing you in just the right way, and his hips push against yours with such force it’s got you grabbing the sheets.

Shanks knows this is only a one-time thing, but he wants, no, he needs to leave a mark on you. He needs to know you’ll fill his absence and crave more of him. Why? He doesn’t understand it himself; he just does. And he plans on following that carnal desire till the very end.

He moves you around different positions, on your side, your hips on top of his thighs, on a mating press, with your knees against your chest. It comes to a point where you can feel absolutely everything he’s giving you, but your brain is filled with cotton.

Three, four, five times maybe you’ve cummed, and your body is on fire, but he isn’t done, he’s chasing his own pleasure now.

“Just a little bit longer, baby.” He says.

“One more, love, just one more.” He repeats.

“I’m so close.” He claims.

His moans grow louder, his hand bites into your skin, bruising it, and his warm essence fills you, spurting out and staining the bed. His breathing is heavy and quick; his hips move more slowly, chasing and prolonging that high.

You sigh and immediately miss him when he pulls out, but you give him a smile when he looks at you.

“I’m not done with you.”

You shudder.

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[devotedlyconfused]

Let the wet rat man kiss the clown