saved-fanfiction

[saved-fanfiction]

Sung Jin-woo letting one of his shadows join? Only if it’s Igris. 

🔞mdni🔞

jinwoo x reader x igris

Warnings: nsfw, expletives, smut, threesome, would this be considered necrophilia? I sincerely hope not, anyways—oral, pnv, dom jin, just absolute filth, creampie—although questionable, throatpie, multiple forced orgasms, first persons pov, links attached for some visuals, i just wanna shoutout this tiktok

Part 2 — ‘the day I found out that Igris has a knot’

——

I can’t lie, whenever I watch Igris in action my heart thuds in my chest, hard. It’s just the way he carries himself that makes him seem…so human. But he’s a beast, and he became Jinwoo’s shadow by a split hair. 

It’s no secret that they’re both equally as powerful. 

Sometimes I let myself fantasize for a while. Let myself think that when he looks at me, he’s feeling the same way. That his heart is slamming into his ribs, just like mine—if he even has one. I can’t help but wonder, what’s under that mask? Or rather, 

Who’s under that mask? 

Jinwoo catapults across my field of vision, slamming into the wall of the training arena. Igris stalks towards him, sword at his side and cape flowing behind him. I watch his every move, his every strut. He glances over to me, staring down at me with a predatory gaze, checking on me. Well, that’s what I allow myself to believe, only for a second. I know where his loyalty lies. 

Regardless, my heart’s about to fly out of my fucking chest. 

Within seconds, Jinwoo regains his strength, getting back up to rejoin this… ‘spar’. His aggression is palpable, I can sense it from all the way over here in these four walls tucked behind this safety glass. Only Igris can bring out this side of him—it’s always a fair fight, after all. 

Well, almost. 

I always look away at this point. It always gets bad for Igris. But for some reason, I can’t today. I watch, eyes fixed to the scene unfolding before me. 

Jinwoo slams Igris into the ground, sending a rumble through the earth beneath me. The chair I’m seated in shakes, and I grip the table in front of me. Igris fades into black smoke under Jinwoo’s fist, and his glowing eyes snap up to meet mine, piercing into me with a threatening glare. 

Fuck. 

My core spasms. Suddenly I’m empty, and yearning for Jinwoo to make it better. He stands and walks through the residual mist that was once Igris, toward me. I swallow hard and reign in the ball of muscle trying to break through my ribcage.

His stare never falters, his eyes are anchored to me. I stand as I urge myself to hold it, to dominate it. But it’s too intimidating—he’s too intimidating. I look down, just for a brief second, showing my submission. And when I look back up…

He’s gone. 

I feel a gust of wind and Jinwoo’s voice growls my name behind me, his hot breath misting against my shoulder. I break out into a shiver, and I stumble back into him. He catches me, steadying me with his iron grip on my waist. 

“Jin—” 

“Igris has taken quite an interest in you.”

He cuts me short with a hint of aggression in his voice. My stomach drops. His fingers wander down my hips, to my thighs—under the hem of my skirt. He presses his lips against the shell of my ear. 

“I’m not quite sure if I like that.” 

“Wh-what do you mean?” I whisper, obviously unnerved. I feel his hard bulge press into me, and my pussy floods with heat. 

“I'm his master.” Jinwoo speaks a little too calmly, subtly tugging my skirt up, little by little. “I know his thoughts, his feelings. He takes a particular liking to your—hah, well, everything.” He yanks my skirt the rest of the way up in one swift, harsh move. “I mean, I do know the feeling.” 

What is he even saying? That Igris…feels something for me? I can barely think, much less focus on the words he’s speaking. Not when he’s thumbing at my soaked panty. 

“I didn’t know he could feel anything. He’s a shadow.” I say, breathless. 

“Yes, he is. But he still has his own…urges. Instincts.” He whispers quietly as he tugs my panties down my hips, letting them drop to my ankles. 

“Desires.” 

“R-Right.” I gasp and hold my breath in anticipation and my body tenses. 

He’s going to bend me over this table and fuck me. 

I swear I feel a gush between my legs, and suddenly my face is flush against the wooden table and his feet are kicking apart mine. My panty stretches between my ankles and he snakes his fingers around my throat. 

“Igris.” He summons his best shadow in a thick, dark voice, and Igris fabricates from a black mist in front of me, as if he didn’t just disappear. “Isn’t that right?” 

I look up from the table, only to be met by a suit of armor and his piercing gaze spearing down through me. Shit. He can see me…like this. With my panties at my ankles, bent over a piece of furniture. 

How embarrassing. 

I feel Jinwoo fiddle single handedly with the buckle of his belt, and then the button on his pants. His other hand maintains its searing grip on my throat and jaw, forcing me to meet Igris’s quiet gaze. I struggle to breathe and my eyes threaten to leak. 

My heart is going to explode. 

“See? He didn’t even respond. He has total control over himself.” His voice lowers into a whisper next to my face and I hear his zipper. “He actually wants to fuck you.” 

What? He—what? My eyes bulge wider, if it’s even possible, and I feel his cock notch at my slick opening.

So what, he’s forcing him to watch us? To teach him some sick lesson? 

Jinwoo must sense my unease, and he loosens his grip on my jaw and my head slumps back down to the table. But I’m still staring into the void of Igris’s eyes. He remains unmoving, eerily still in his stance with his sword sheathed on his back. 

“Caalm.” He draws out the word, letting his fingers just barely skate along the length of my spine.

My back arches and I roll onto the tips of my toes to present my pussy to him. Pathetic. I almost hate how wet and ripe I am for him. He hasn’t even looked me in the eye yet. 

“We’re not doing anything you don’t want.” Jin-woo’s hand trails up to grip my throat once more, and he hunches over me until his lips are next to my ear again. 

“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

Jin-woo breaches me with exigency, in one hard thrust of his hips. I let out a whimper and try to stay on my toes as I frantically adjust to his thick cock inside me. 

“I see the way you look at him.” He growls as he presses a harsh kiss onto my jaw. 

He knows. And he’s teaching me a lesson, too. 

“I…I don’t.” I can’t find my voice to tell my lie, especially when I’m doing it now—staring at Igris while his master is inside me. 

Jin-woo lets out a low, wicked chuckle, and his hand tightens on my throat. Igris moves just a millimeter, as if he were about to let himself react to his master's slender fingers wrapped around my neck. 

But he holds himself firm, head ever so slightly tilted down as he takes in the sight beneath him. The sight of my quivering, glossy eyes peering up at him, and my flushed, swollen lips glistening with a layer of spit. 

“Careful, Igris.” Jinwoo warns his subordinate. “We’re not in the arena anymore. You might hurt her if you retaliate here.” He unleashes me from his grip, allowing me to take an unobstructed breath. 

“He’s not a fan of my hand around your throat.” Jin-woo whispers into my ear, and pulls out of me suddenly, leaving me empty and aching. 

“I won’t hurt her. She’s mine, remember?” Jinwoo speaks nonchalantly, as if he were stating a fact. Reassuring Igris, yet at the same time reminding him that I’m his. I can sense Igris tense—he feels like a ball of kinetic energy, ready to burst. 

Jinwoo’s cock prods at me again, and I ready myself for the impact of his thrust. I know it’s going to be brutal. He slams into me with a ruthless smack, making the table beneath me topple onto two legs. My fingers grip onto its corners as I bite my cheek to stifle the moan threatening to rip from my throat. 

“Mine to fuck.” Jin-woo growls, and there’s a possessive tone to his voice. He wraps my hair around his fist and yanks my head back. Now I’m forced to stare directly at him. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

That damn question again. He wants me to say it to his face. To make it clear that he owns me and my pussy.

“Yes.” I just barely whisper and feel him ram into me again. “Fuck!” 

Igris takes a step toward me, his stare trained down on me. He’s so close to me now, and I’m eye level with his armored crotch. Blood rushes to my face and Jinwoo hisses behind me. 

“Soon.” Jinwoo snaps, using the grip he has on my hair to hold me firm as he immediately sets a relentless pace, fucking into me with a vengeance.

“Soon? W-what’s ha-ppening soon?” My voice bounces from his incessant thrusts, and I’m so fucking overwhelmed. 

“Igris wants his turn.” Jinwoo growls. 

His…turn?

My heart lunges out my chest, and I’m pushed closer towards the edge. The image of Igris actually fucking me is almost too much to handle. If he were to fuck me…oh god. I’m going to cum from just the thought. 

“Jinwoo, wait. I—” I moan softly as my legs tremble and my pussy grips his cock. Fuck, I’m going to come already. And Igris is going to watch it happen. “Please, s-slower—or, or, I’m going to—haah—gonna!” 

“Yeah? Already?” He huffs, letting his hips snap into me repeatedly, fucking me like he’s angry with me. “Just from the mere thought of my shadow fucking your needy little pussy?”

“N-No!” I deny the truth through a tiny, pathetic cry, fixating on the sight directly in front of me.

The armor guarding Igris’s most prized possession looks tight. 

“Show her your face.” Jin-woo orders quickly, huffing and puffing as he ruts into me. 

Igris obeys, taking off his helmet and letting it fall to the ground with a clank. I crane my neck to look up at him and I’m met with glowing red eyes.

Hungry, scarred, red eyes, staring down at me like he wants to wreck me.

His hair flows down past his shoulders, a stark white with silver highlights. Christ, he’s more gorgeous than I ever imagined. 

And I'm coming…to his face. 

“Fu-uck.” I whine shakily and watch Igris’s eyes widen and his angular jaw tense. 

“Oh fuck, she’s cumming on my cock, Igris.” Jinwoo grunts and fucks me through every spasm that ripples through me. I writhe and squirm underneath his grip and my eyes fill to the brim with hot tears. “Don’t you wanna feel that?” 

Igris’s gaze snaps to Jinwoo’s, and the answer to that question is written all over his beautiful face. 

“Shadow exchange.” Jinwoo growls under his breath. 

Within moments, Igris fades to black and before me stands the menace himself—the shadow monarch—huge cock in hand with his ominous, glowing eyes shooting freshly sharpened daggers into me. 

Then I feel it. A delicious stretch. My still throbbing cunt desperately tries to adjust to Igris’s fat cock. He’s inside me. He’s really fucking inside me. Fuck, it’s so thick and big that I could cry. I really might fucking cry. 

I let out a wobbly whimper and force myself to keep still, if I move I think I’ll split open. All I can do is peer up into the luminous eyes that look back down at me with contempt, as I beg him to do something. 

“Oh my god. J-Jin. Jinwoo.” I chitter through my teeth and my tears of disbelief finally stain my cheeks. “Jin-woo, he’s really i-inside me.”

“Impressive, mm?” He grunts, breathing heavily. He cups my chin, pads of his fingers sinking into my damp cheeks. He tsks, and a slight smirk tugs at his lips. “I want to be inside you too, darling.” 

Jinwoo drives his thumb and pointer finger into my jaw bone, forcing my mouth open. He gives himself a few sloppy strokes before swiping his swollen tip on my lips as if it were lipstick, coating them in my own cum. 

“Tongue.” He demands through a breathless groan, and my tongue instinctively darts out, tasting myself on him. 

I’m sweet. 

“That’s my good girl.” Jin-woo grins, his thumb rubbing my cheek tenderly like some sort of twisted praise.

His attention turns to his second in command, and he takes in the sight of him mounted to me. His cock twitches against my tongue, and my mouth reflexively closes around his mushroomy head. 

“Hnng—she’s incredible, isn’t she?” Jinwoo sounds so smug, and for the first time, I hear Igris grunt. “Fuck her good, Igris.” 

The force of his first thrust litters my vision with stars, and it pushes me further down onto Jinwoo’s cock all at once. Jinwoo takes an intentional breath to stifle a groan and begins balling my hair into his fist. 

My clit definitely has its own fucking heartbeat. 

Igris begins thrusting in and out of me like a starved man, shoving himself as deep as my tiny body will allow him. His movements are incessant, laced with desperation. Like he’s been waiting—wanting to do this for a long, long time. He’s fucking into me like he’s never fucked a pussy in his life and the thought of that likely being the truth is making this even hotter. 

“Shit, I don’t even need to fuck your throat.” Jinwoo huffs with a smile and stands still, proving his point. “He’s fucking you so hard that your throat is riding my cock.”

Tears stream down my face and my head feels like it’s full of cotton. Am I even breathing? I test it out and hear a gurgling noise that I can only assume came from  me. Jinwoo pulls out of me, holding my head in the air and I hear myself heave a loud breath. 

“Don’t pass out on us, sweetheart.” Jinwoo’s dark voice echoes and I feel him tap my cheek a few times with his cock. “Come on, you can take us both. Right?”

He slowly sinks his cock down my throat again, inch by inch. I gag and my eyes water, because while he’s doing that, Igris is ramming him into the back of my throat repeatedly. 

It’s all too much. 

I shake my head and tap Jin’s thigh, and he yanks out of me and I gasp for air. He strokes himself fast, with his hips thrusted into the air and his core flexed. He groans low and long, watching me. Watching us.

“Make her cum.” He speaks quickly, stroking himself harder. Igris pounds into me at a frightening rate and I feel the coil in my core suddenly snap. I let out a filthy moan, loud and languid, from the back of my fucked out throat. “She’s gonna come, Igris.” 

I am. I fucking am. 

“I’m—I’m cummi—”

Jinwoo stuffs his cock back down my throat with an urgency, hunching over me and fucking my throat like it’s a pussy. His hand snakes down my belly, and his finger barely swipes my pulsing clit. His ghost touch sends me over the edge and I cum so. fucking. hard. My pussy throbs so bad that Igris groans like a dying man and ruts me harder. 

“Oh fuck, baby. Yes.” Jinwoo moans, giving me one brutal thrust before emptying himself down my throat.

He grunts from the bottom of his stomach and he holds me for what feels like an eternity on his pulsating cock before tugging me off of him. I cough and sputter, swallowing between sorry attempts at taking a breath. 

“Granted.” Jinwoo catches his own breath, and I can’t even speak to ask him what he’s allowing Igris to do to me now. He leans down, caressing my face and brushing my sweaty hair away from my pleading eyes. He plants a tender kiss on my ear and as he pulls away he whispers to me.

“Igris wants permission to breed you. That’s okay, right darling?”

Jin-woo takes a step back and I call for him with my hoarse voice. But he only grins and uses his stealth to fade into thin air, seemingly leaving me alone with the knight commander Igris—the blood red. I feel his metal arm wrap over my chest and his hand grip my shoulder to gain purchase. 

“I-Igris.” I nervously and directly acknowledge him for the first time in this entire interaction. “Ple-ase…” 

He growls and pulls me off the table and into his hard exterior. My toes cramp from trying to stay on my feet but he’s way too big and I feel myself lifting off the ground. He wraps his other hand around my waist and supports me with ease, fucking me mid-air. I claw at his armour and my legs kick and cross but I’m trapped in his undying grasp. 

“Holy shit…Igris!” I cry out, frantic. “Hold on!”  

Igris’s rhythm goes sloppy, and he’s trying to force as much of himself inside me as he possibly can. He’s trying to kill me, not breed me. A high pitched squeal splits my quivering lips and I kick a little harder—entirely too overwhelmed and overstimulated. 

“T-Too deep! You’re too deep!” My tears stream down my cheeks yet my pummeled pussy weeps for more. 

“You’re okay, my princess.” Igris’s deep voice hurls me into my third orgasm and I go limp in his grip, completely dissolving into the pleasure of his cock filling every possible part of me.

He cums with a gruff shout, tightening his arms around me as he stays inside me, stuffing me with cum until I’m queasy. 

My vision splits and fades to black and his grip on me fades with it. I hear a hushed sound and feel myself falling. I’m about to slam into the floor. I brace for impact in my fizzled brain yet I don’t feel the hard, cold tile. Rather, a warmth envelopes me, cradling me as I blubber and fail to set any breathing pattern, much less a steady one.

“Shh-shh. Breathe. You did so well, baby.” It’s Jinwoo’s voice, cooing at me, and he holds me close to his warm chest. “You were such a good girl for us.” 

[saved-fanfiction]

I know you said you have a hard time writing him, but can I request something with Sanji? I really love your enemies to lovers dynamic in your Zoro fic, so maybe something like that? Can you make it spicy too? just something short pretty please!

(No stress if you don't want to)

-💙

Anon!!! Now I don't know if I made this man justice! I'm sorry it took so long! I really tried my best!! I got a little carried away, so this isn't really something short anymore... BUT I hope you'll like it 💕 I'm also tired and didn't proofread this as much as I should have!

I Hate Flirts

Sanji x Female Reader

wc: 2.6k

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, enemies to lovers, smut, oral, p in v sex

To say your first impression of the cook, as you first joined the Straw Hat Pirates, was bad was one hell of an understatement. You weren’t a fan of pretty boys, and most of all, you weren’t a fan of flirts. 

Hell, you hated flirts.

When Luffy had introduced you to the crew, you’d tried to put on your best smile. Everyone seemed nice enough—Zoro, with his comfortable demeanor; Nami, who welcomed you with a knowing smile; Usopp and Chopper, who were immediately friendly. 

And then there was Sanji.

He’d approached you with that cheeky smile, a bouquet of flowers seemingly conjured out of thin air. “For the beautiful new member of our crew,” he’d said, taking your hand and kissing it with far too much charm.

You’d yanked your hand back, not being able to keep the sneer breaking on your lips at the gesture. “Don’t do that,” you snapped almost immediately.

It’d been entirely reactionary and the guilt you felt at the hurt in his eyes only served to widen the rift you’d created.

Sanji’s grin had faltered, just for a moment, before he replaced it with an exaggerated bow. “As you wish, mademoiselle. But my admiration knows no bounds.”

Your eyes narrowed at his answer. Something about it irked you beyond comprehension.

From that moment on, it was war. Sanji flirted relentlessly, his attempts becoming more and more ridiculous as he tried to win you over. You, in turn, shot him down at every opportunity, sometimes with a sharp retort, most of the time with a well-placed punch to the shoulder.

Despite the ongoing one-sided battle, you couldn’t deny that Sanji excelled in many places. He fought well and in the boredom of the endless sea, the meals he prepared were a highlight of your day. After all, you most definitely had a taste for the finer things in life.

As his cooking slowly broke away your apprehension towards him, you started to grudgingly admire his dedication to his craft. There was something about the way he moved in the kitchen, all precision and passion, that you couldn’t help but respect… Not that you’d ever admit that to him.

The rest of the crew found your dynamic endlessly entertaining. Nami would give you knowing looks, Zoro would snicker behind his sake, and Luffy, bless his heart, was just happy to have another person on board.

Despite everything, you had to admit the cook had his moments.

You weren’t sure what had taken you over but one extremely boring afternoon, your feet mindlessly brought you to the kitchen. Just as expected Sanji was there, elbow deep in preparations.

You leaned against the doorframe, quietly observing as he twirled the knife in his hands, as he chopped at a speed that was lightning-fast. “Need any help?” The words left your mouth before your mind could register them.

Sanji looked up, surprise clear on his features but a certain pleased glimmer filled his eyes. “A lady—“ he started to protest, the words dying on his lips as he saw your expression start to shift. “I-I’d love the help,” he muttered uncertainly instead.

You stepped into the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves as you moved to stand beside him. The countertop was cluttered with various ingredients, a testament to the elaborate meal he was undoubtedly preparing.

“What can I do?” you asked, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

Sanji handed you a knife and a cutting board. “Can you, uh, chop these vegetables? Uniform pieces, please.”

You took the knife from him, noting the gentle brush of his fingers against yours. Ignoring the slight warmth that spread through you, you focused on the task at hand. As you worked, the kitchen filled with the rhythmic sound of chopping, accompanied by the occasional clatter of pots and pans.

“Not bad,” Sanji commented, peeking at your progress. “You’ve got a good hand for this.”

“Surprised?” you shot back with a coy smirk, your tone teasing.

He laughed. “Maybe a little. You never struck me as the domestic type.”

You couldn’t help the soft chuckles that passed your lips. “I’m not,” you admitted. “But I have picked up a few skills along the way.” Your gaze was distant for a moment. “There’s nothing like good food and an excellent bottle of wine.” You punctuated your statement with a fancy twirl of your knife.

“Good wine, huh?” He said, curiosity piqued. 

“Oh the things I would do for a good Cabernet and dark chocolate,” you mused dreamily.

Sanji’s eyes lit up. “A fellow connoisseur? Now that’s something I didn’t expect!” He set down his own knife and looked at you with genuine interest. “What’s your favorite dish to pair with a good wine?”

You paused, contemplating your answer. “I’d say a rich beef bourguignon. The deep, savory flavors work perfectly with a full-bodied red.”

Sanji’s smile grew wider, an expression of pure delight. “You have excellent taste,” he said, clearly impressed. “How about you help me make that tonight? I’ve got some top-quality beef in the pantry.”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You want to make bourguignon? Right now? What about all this?” You gestured at what you’d been chopping.

“Why not?” he replied, enthusiasm shining in his eyes. “It’s a perfect way to spend a boring afternoon, don’t you think? The prep can serve for tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his infectious excitement. “Alright, let’s do it.”

For the next few hours, the two of you worked side by side, prepping ingredients and discussing various cooking techniques. Sanji’s knowledge of culinary arts was vast, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. He was patient, guiding you through the more intricate parts of the recipe without a hint of condescension.

As the bourguignon simmered on the stove, filling the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma, Sanji uncorked a bottle of red wine. “Here,” he said, pouring you a glass. “A little something to pass the time while we wait.”

You took the glass, savoring the rich, velvety flavor of the wine. “This is amazing,” you admitted, glancing at him. “Where did you get it?”

“A gift from a grateful villager,” he replied with a wink. “I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And making beef bourguignon with me counts as a special occasion?”

Sanji’s expression softened, a hint of sincerity shining through his usual flirtatious demeanor. “Every moment with you is special.”

You rolled your eyes, but this time, it was more out of habit than annoyance. “If you think this is getting you into my pants, think again,” you admonished though your tone remained playful.

He blushed and sputtered, choking on his sip of wine. 

Cute.

You smiled as you looked at him. It was the first time you’d seen this side of Sanji – the side that wasn’t really trying to win you over with charm and gifts, but simply being kind. You really looked at him for the first time. Maybe there was more to Sanji than the flirtatious exterior. Maybe, just maybe, he was worth getting to know beyond the playful banter.

As the weeks flowed, your dynamic shifted. Sanji’s flirtations became less over-the-top, more sincere. He still never missed an opportunity, but there was a gentleness to it now, a hint of genuine affection. And damn it, you found yourself responding in kind.

You weren’t sure when exactly it happened, but one day, you caught yourself laughing at one of his ridiculous flirting attempts. It was a real, deep and true laughter, the sound surprising both of you. Sanji’s eyes widened, a slow smile spreading across his face.

From that moment on, he craved to hear the cheerful din of your laughter again and again, especially when it was only for him.

One evening, as you mindlessly sipped a Cabernet with dark chocolate, you looked at him differently. As he hummed to himself, washing the dishes, you found yourself thinking this was nice. 

“You know, Sanji,” you started, munching on chocolate. “I think I wouldn’t mind it if you tried to get into my pants.”

Sanji nearly dropped the plate he was washing, turning to face you with wide eyes and a face quickly turning as red as the wine you were sipping. “W-What?” he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

You took another sip of your wine, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “You heard me,” you said casually, savoring the rich liquid. “I think I wouldn’t mind it. If you tried, that is.”

Sanji blinked, his usual suave demeanor momentarily replaced with genuine surprise and nervousness. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, seemingly at a loss for words.

You chuckled softly, enjoying his flustered state. “Cat got your tongue, cook?”

You got up, slowly making your way to him. Your fingers traced his jaw as you looked at him through your lashes. “Unless I’m mistaken and you’re not interested. That’s fine too, I guess.”

Sanji swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously under your touch. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “No, no, you’re not mistaken,” he said, his voice a little shaky but sincere. “I’ve just… I’ve...”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Well then, in that case, you could kiss me,” you suggested, your voice soft and inviting.

Sanji’s eyes searched yours for a moment, as if making sure he wasn’t dreaming. Then, with a deep breath, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. The kiss was slow and sweet, filled with the promise of more to come.

Promises you didn’t want to wait for. 

You softly bit at his lower lip, asking for more. Sanji’s hesitation melted away as he responded to your encouragement, deepening the kiss with newfound confidence, His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as your lips moved in sync. His tongue met yours in a careful dance, the taste of chocolate, wine, and cigarettes mingling between you.

Time seemed to slow as you lost yourself in the moment, the gentle sway of the ship only adding to the intoxicating feeling. Your fists bunched in his shirt, then his hair, desire clear in the desperation of your movements. He stumbled forward, pinning you to the counter, your back arched and you wished you could melt into him more than physically possible. 

You pulled away slightly, breathless and dizzy with lust. “Does the door have a lock?” you asked breath hot against his. 

Sanji’s breath was ragged as he struggled to form coherent thoughts. He looked towards the kitchen door, then back at you, eyes dark with desire. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice husky. “It does.”

You grinned, biting your lip. “Good,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear as you did so. “Lock the door for me, pretty boy?”

The click of the lock seemed to break the last of Sanji’s restraint. He captured your lips again, this time with more urgency, his hands roaming your body with a newfound boldness. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire in your core.

You tugged at his shirt, impatiently pulling it free from his pants, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his abdomen. Sanji’s breath hitched at the contact, his hands moving to unbutton your own clothing with equal fervor. 

As your garments fell to the floor in a haphazard pile, Sanji lifted you onto the counter, the cold surface a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. He paused for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, a reverent expression on his face. You moved to remove your black lacy underwear but his hand stopped you.

“I want you to keep it on,” he breathed, his voice filled with genuine awe. “You’re a vision.”

Your eyebrow arched but still you blushed at his words and you most definitely didn’t let them slow you down. “Show me how much,” you challenged, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you.

Sanji didn’t need to be told twice. His lips traveled from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nips that had you gasping for breath. His hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, driving you wild with want.

As he trailed down your abdomen he dropped down to his knees, hands going around your thighs and dragging you to the edge. He looked up at you, veneration in his eyes. “Can I taste you?” He almost begged. 

You took your time to answer him, reveling in the sight. Your hand lazily cupped his cheek, tangled in his hair. “Yes.” Your whisper was almost lost against the sound of waves crashing against the hull.

His tongue met already dripping black lace. He lapped and sucked with adoration and the muted feeling of ecstasy threatened to send you over the edge again and again. Until your thighs shook and you were reduced to a babbling mess, begging for his tongue against your flesh. 

When he at long last dragged the ruined piece of cloth down your legs and his tongue finally met your slick with worship, his name flowed across your lips like a prayer. The waves of pleasure that washed over you were overwhelming and as orgasm after orgasm flowed through you he didn’t relent, drinking you in with a fervor born of reverence. You could feel your arousal drip down your trembling thighs, down his chin, the moans that escaped you as you implored him to stop obscene. 

When you collapsed in exhaustion and your shrieks born of overstimulation became soft sobs and whimpers he finally backed off. Gently, he guided you lower, a hand behind your head as he lay you down against the cool granite of the counter. 

His lips found yours in a soft kiss, allowing your mind to slowly come back to reality. His tongue danced with yours with careful consideration, the taste of your slick flooding your mouth. “I want to feel you around me, I want to feel your warmth, I want to…” he pleaded against your lips.

“Sanji, please,” you whispered, your voice laced with need.

Forehead to forehead Sanji’s eyes met yours, his gaze blown with lust. “Anything for you, my love” he promised, his hands unsteady as he positioned himself.

He slowly slid in, both of you moaning, your breaths mingling in want. You mewled, your head falling back as Sanji began to move, each thrust a symphony of pleasure that built and built until you thought you might shatter from the sheer intensity of it.

Sanji’s rhythm was desperate, his movements ragged and teetering as he brought you higher and higher.  Your name fell from his lips in a litany of praise and need, each syllable driving him to push you further.

As the tension within you reached a fever pitch, you clung to him, your nails digging into his back as you rode the waves of ecstasy that crashed over you. Sanji followed soon after, hips stuttering, hot seed mingling with your slick as it slowly overflowed and dripped down unto the counter.

For a moment, the world was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths, the steady beat of your hearts, and the gentle sway of the ship. You clung to each other, lost in the afterglow, the reality of what had just happened slowly sinking in.

You were the first to break the silence, your voice raspy and filled with a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. “Sanji, that was incredible,” you chuckled. “I don't think I can stand.”

His laughter mingled with yours, a rich, heartfelt sound that filled the room. Your heart filled with contentment. The moment was perfect, a blend of intimacy and joy that neither of you would ever let go of.

Masterlist

[saved-fanfiction]

Cherry Girl | Chapter 3

Eustass Kid x Reader

Chapters: [1] [2]

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, slow burn-ish, praise kink, size difference

Chapter wc: 7.8k

Summary: Eustass ‘captain’ Kid was in a shit mood. He was pent-up, irritated and you… you and your pink mini denim skirt wasn’t helping. OR You and Kid obviously pine for each other but you're both idiots.

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3

Chapter 3: The Shower

You hadn’t seen your captain nor those girls come out of his quarters in three days now. Most of the men of the crew had opted with staying at a nearby inn, pursuing their own conquests. Killer had instructed you with leaving some water and food by his door every day and every time you changed the old empty tray of food with a new full one you’d hear loud moans in there. Seemed like they were having fun. You tried not to be envious of them. But at night, when the room was empty, you couldn’t help yourself but let your fingers wander past the waistband of your panties and wonder how he’d feel.

The sun was creeping up and you couldn’t sleep. You decided to make your way to the kitchen, get an early start on your tasks of the day. You didn’t bother changing out of your thin pajama shorts and camisole, opting to throw on a thick cardigan and slip on your pink fur slippers. It wasn’t like anyone was on the ship anyways. 

The deck was quiet for a change, fresh air feeling good on your skin. You opened the door to the kitchen. Eustass ‘Captain’ fucking Kid was standing there, shirtless, without makeup and his hair soft. He was grumbling to himself over a pan at the oven.

The smell of something burning caught your attention. You sauntered over to where he was, instinct taking over. You removed the pan from the heat, taking it away from his hand. Whatever its content had been it was burnt to a crisp. With a sigh you turned off the oven top.

“The fuck are you doing,” he said in surprise, turning over to you. He was clearly still in a foul mood.

“Sorry captain,” You answered sheepishly, “instinct took over,” you laughed discarding the contents of the pan in the trash. “You should be careful though, could have burnt the whole ship down,” you added under your breath.

Kid shot you a glare, his piercing gaze making you squirm under his scrutiny. “I know what I’m doing,” He grumbled, his voice low and gravelly.

“Clearly not, captain,” you dared. “I didn’t know eggs could be so charred and still be edible.”

He scowled at you, but not in a menacing way. “If the ship goes down, it won’t be 'cause of a fucking pan, kitten. And I do know how to fucking cook”, he mumbled, shifting from foot to foot. “Was just distracted is all.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Captain. Need help with breakfast?” you asked playfully, a small giggle escaping your lips.

“I should throw you over fucking board.”

You looked out the window, a mischievous glint in your gaze. “It doesn’t look too cold, and I’m a good swimmer you know,” you answered teasingly. “A dip in the sea might even feel good.”

The audacity of your comeback caught him off guard. His eyes wandered over your body dangerously, taking you in.

“Huh? When the fuck did YOU get so fucking cheeky?” He asked indignantly, taking a step towards you. He was intimidating up close towering over you, a scowl on his face. But you could see the hint of playfulness hidden in his stare.

The intimacy of the moment made you smile.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you said, turning your back on him, donning over an apron. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

He stood there, unsure how to proceed.

“Fine,” he mumbled eventually, sitting down on a chair near the kitchen counter.

You gave a quick nod, satisfied with his response, and turned back to your work, determined to salvage what you could from his disastrous endeavors.

Just as you switched the oven on, the door to the kitchen swung open, making you jump. Killer strode in urgently. “I thought I smelled something burning,” he muttered between heavy breaths.

You laughed, a mischievous glint crossing your gaze. Kid scowled.

“Captain here decided to try his hand at cooking,” you teased between chuckles, “But apparently his mind was somewhere else,” you gestured to Kid with a playful grin.

Kid shot you a glare.

You could almost hear Killer’s brows go up at the idea. “Wasn’t aware you’d finally learned how to cook, Kid,” even though you couldn’t see his face through his mask, you could feel the amusement in his voice.

Kid shot Killer a fierce look. “Mind your own damn business, Killer. I can cook perfectly fine.”

You stifled a laugh. “Sure, you can,” you said in tandem with Killer.

Your captain grumbled something inaudible, his irritation evident.

You rolled your eyes, plating up what you’d been cooking. “There you go, Captain. A meal fit for the pirate king,” you declared, setting the plate in front of him.

“Oi, girly pop! Everything ok in here?” Quincy shouted as she opened the door to the kitchen, Dive and Heat in tow. “Something smells burnt”

You mischievously eyed your captain, he groaned loudly.

“Kid tried to cook,” Killer beat you to it.

“Huh?” Dive bellowed. “No way!” She was clearly amused.

Kid rolled his eyes, shoving food in his mouth with a vengeance, a slight embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before you. Captain Kid begrudgingly eating the breakfast you’d prepared, while his crewmates teased him mercilessly about his culinary skills – or lack thereof. 

You realized, in this perfect moment that you were happy. This, this felt like home.

Quincy and the rest crowded up in the kitchen, you got back to your cooking. The atmosphere was playful. Yes, this was nice, really nice. Warm and natural.

“Right, Quincy, show cherry girl what you found!” Heat said changing the subject.

“Ah! That’s right, look here girly pop,” Quincy beckoned. You turned to her, your curiosity piqued. She was holding up a pair of earrings, cherry earrings.

“Oh! They’re so cute!” You marvelled, picking them up excitedly.

“Just for you, cherry girl,” Quincy added, obviously proud of her find.

You blushed at the nickname. “I told you all to drop that,” you muttered sheepishly as you put on the valued gift.

“Ain’t no way we’re ever doing that,” Dive laughed.

“What’s that ‘Cherry Girl’ about,” Kid interrupted the moment, words uttered between mouthfuls, clearly intrigued.

Quincy looked at you, a devilish sparkle in her eyes. You blanched. “Don’t you fucking dare Quincy,” you panicked.

She leaned on the counter, her grin wicked as she assessed Kid. “You see,” she started in a sing-song. “Cherry girl here,” she put an emphasis on the nickname. Your ears felt hot. “Has never had anyone go down on her.”

“Huh?” Kid shouted, his head whipping back to you in surprise. Your face was red, a confirmation of what Quincy had just uttered. 

A grin plastered itself on his mouth.

“I’m not a virgin though,” You muttered quickly.

He howled.

“Kitten,” his tone was dripping with amusement. “I can change tha-” He started to say. 

“Get in line, Kid,” Quincy and Heat said together, cutting him off. “We already offered.”

You hid your face in embarrassment, your cheeks felt hot against the coolness of your fingers.

“You fucking bastards,” you squealed, your words muffled behind your palms.

“Oh look at her!” Dive added. “She’s redder than the captain’s hair.”

Your crewmates erupted in laughter, teasing you mercilessly as you tried to bury your face in your hands further. Captain Kid, still grinning like a cheshire cat, leaned back in his chair clearly enjoying the spectacle.

“You’re all insufferable,” you muttered, curling inwards.

“Are we?” Quincy said innocently, mischief filled her eyes once again. “You know captain, we all learned a lot about girly pop when we played truth or dare. It’s really too bad you missed all that,” she continued.

“Quincy!” You shouted.

“Oh really?” Kid leaned forward clearly interested.

“Really! I’ll tell you all about it if you give me a nice bonus,” Quincy added. A conspiratorial look passed between her and Kid.

“You fucking traitor, don’t you dare!” You panicked, blood draining from your face.

Kid got up, his grin down right evil as he put his arm around Quincy’s shoulders and started dragging her towards the door with him. “Deal! Start talkin’ Quin,” he shot back a look at you when he passed the door. “Thanks for the food Kitten,” the bastard dared wink at you, Quincy’s faint chatter about that night barely reaching your ears.

Fuck. You groaned, utterly mortified. You heard an ever so rare laugh come from Killer. You couldn’t help the indignant glare you sent his way.

As the door closed behind Captain Kid and Quincy, leaving you alone with Dive, Heat, and Killer, the kitchen fell into an awkward silence. You could feel the heat of embarrassment still burning in your cheeks as you tried to come to terms with the fact that Quincy had just sold you out for a bonus.

Dive and Heat exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Well, that was expected," Dive chuckled.

"Yeah, Quincy has a good knack for negotiation," Heat added, grinning.

You shot them both a fierce stare, still reeling from the betrayal. "You're not helping," you complained.

Killer laughed softly, shaking his head. "Relax, cherry girl. They're just messing with you."

You scowled at the nickname coming from Killer. You’d thought at least HE’d be better. You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "I know, but still..."

Killer's stance softened, a comforting hand went to your shoulder. "Hey, it's all in good fun. And besides, it's not like Kid’s going to hold it against you."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You sure about that?"

Killer shrugged. "Who knows with him? But he's not one to judge."

You sighed, feeling a bit reassured by Killer's words. "I guess you're right."

Dive clapped you on the back, a mischievous grin on her face. "Come on, cherry girl. Let's not let Quincy's antics ruin the day. We've got a ship to run, after all."

You nodded and got back to work, steeling yourself to face whatever the day had in store. A small smile made its way on your lips. Despite the embarrassment and teasing, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the camaraderie of your crewmates. With their support, you knew you could handle any and all challenges that came your way.

Kid had actually been in a foul mood when he’d woken up that morning. The girls sleeping on his bed had suddenly started to feel very annoying. He’d roughly woken them up and thrown them out his fucking cabin. He was still so fucking pent-up. He’d fucked them day and night for three days now. They’d been a good lay, matched his intensity just right. So why the fuck was he still so fucking frustrated. He groaned, closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

Fuck. He wasn’t fucking tired.

He sighed in defeat and got up. Whatever. He was hungry.

Kid grudgingly made his way to the kitchen, his mind still reeling with irritation and restlessness. Eggs couldn’t be that hard to cook, right? He’d been lost in thought when you’d barged in and ordered him around. The fuck you think you were. He was the fucking captain of this ship. 

He’d scowled in frustration, ready to snap. That was until you’d looked up at him with that cute playful little look of yours. It almost made him smile. That wasn’t so bad he’d guessed. He could let you order him around a little, it wasn’t like it really mattered.

He’d sat down like an obedient dog at your invitation. Checking you out as you busied yourself making him something. Those shorts you wore barely hid anything, he didn’t even need his imagination to see the shapes hidden below the thin fabric of your pajamas. A soft grin made its way to his lips. This was nice actually. Really nice. He took in a breath, letting his shoulders relax.

He wasn’t so angry anymore.

Killer had stormed in at that moment. By the way his friend’s masked face had stayed a touch too long towards him, he knew he’d been caught. 

Whatever, Kid scowled.

His shoulders tensed up again in frustration. He knew Killer would ask later. Fuck. He didn’t know what he’d say.

He’d been eating when Quincy, Dive and Heat had barged in. Cherry girl, they’d call you. He was rarely curious about his crew’s antics, nicknames changed all the time on his ship. But he couldn’t help but ask this time around. By the look in Quincy’s eyes, he immediately knew this was going to be good.

Quincy had dropped the bomb. Your embarrassment making it clear that it was true. His cock had twitched momentarily at the suggestive thought that crossed his mind. He could fucking help you with that if you wanted. Hell he’d give you the time of your life. He gave your body a once over. He’d do it right here and now if you asked. A shit-eating grin plastered his lips as he started voicing his thoughts. Quincy and Heat cut him off, revealing they’d already offered.

He howled at your mortification. Seemed like they all shared the same brain cell. His cock twitched again as he looked at your thighs. They’d make amazing earmuffs. His convictions from a few days before were slowly shattering. Maybe he was that kind of man. Maybe he fucking wanted something sweet for once. He was aware of Quincy’s calculating stare on him. He waited for her to decide on whatever she was deliberating in that head of hers. A resolute look had settled in her eyes and she baited him with scandalous revelations. Oh this was getting interesting. Sure he decided, he’d bite. He snaked an arm around Quincy’s shoulder, a conspiratorial look shared between them as they’d left. The irritation he’d felt that morning was slowly ebbing away.

Yes, this was indeed interesting.

As the days progressed, you found yourself caught up in the daily activities of running the ship. The captain was out of his quarters, it was time for everyone to get back to their duties. Inventory checks, maintenance and planning resumed for the next voyage at sea. You’d sail out soon. One more night and you’d all be off. The crew continued to tease you about your new nickname, they all seemed to revel in the amusement it brought them. A faint blush would hit your cheeks but you were determined not to let it get under your skin.

Your captain hadn’t brought the subjects of whatever conversations he’d had with Quincy. You were sure he’d be back to tease you about it eventually. Maybe it was the inevitability of that teasing that brought you on edge but you could swear that his hand stayed longer and lower on your back when he passed you by. Your heart thrummed every time, ears reddening at the thought that he knew you’d fantasized about him.

You groaned. Stopping your current task, you buried your face in your hands. Flashbacks of embarrassing moments crossing your mind to your despair. “Stop thinking brain,” you told yourself aloud.

Heat barged in, interrupting the fragile peace around you. “Come on, cherry girl. Last day on solid ground. We’re going to drink”

You hesitated. Last time you were at the tavern hadn’t turned out the best for you.

“No chickening out,” you heard Dive shout from outside.

You considered trying to turn them down, although you knew it was futile. “Fine,” you mumbled, getting up.

With a resigned sigh, you followed Heat out of the ship and into the bustling streets of the town. The now familiar sights and sounds washed over you. As you walked, Heat chattered excitedly about the plans for the evening, his infectious enthusiasm gradually lifting your spirits. Despite your initial reluctance, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

The tavern loomed ahead, its warm glow inviting you in. The crew had already claimed their usual corner, their laughter echoing throughout the crowded room.

Quincy waved you over, a mischievous grin on her face. "There she is, cherry girl! Ready for round two?"

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but smile at her teasing. "Bring it on," you replied, determination in your voice.

As the night wore on, you found yourself caught up in the lively atmosphere of the tavern. Laughter, music, and the clinking of tankards filled the air, washing away the stresses of the day.

Kid wasn’t there. You’d learned he never drank the day before setting out to sea. Him and Killer planning their next route and going over the necessary preparations instead.

Quincy and Dive were engaged in a spirited game of darts, their competitive streaks evident as they cheered each other on. Heat was at the bar, chatting up the bartender and charming her with his infectious smile, probably hoping for a last fuck before the road.

As for you, you found yourself drawn into conversations with various crewmates, sharing stories and laughter as the night wore on. Despite the teasing and the embarrassment, you felt a sense of belonging among your fellow crewmates.

Quincy had eventually made her way back to your side at some point. She was clearly intoxicated.

"Hey, cherry girl," Quincy slurred, leaning heavily on your shoulder. "You know, you're not half bad for a girly pop."

You chuckled, steadying her. "Thanks, I think."

Quincy grinned drunkenly. "No, seriously. You've been holding your own out here. I respect that."

"Thanks Quince,” you laughed heartily.

“Cheers to that,” she shouted holding out her tankard. She wobbled side to side. As she leaned back on you for support, her grip loosened momentarily, the contents of her drink sloshing out of its container and down your shirt. You squeaked at the cold feeling.

“Whoops!” Quincy exclaimed, giggling drunkenly as she looked down at your shirt. “Looks like I’ve had too many.”

You laughed, feeling a little tipsy yourself. “I think you might be right.”

“Looks like the end of the night for her,” Dive chuckled, as she joined the two of you. “Want me to take her back to the ship?”

“No, it’s fine, I need to shower anyways,” you gestured at your shirt. “Before this gets all sticky.”

Dive nodded understandingly. "Alright then, I'll see you back at the ship. ‘Night cherry girl."

With Quincy's arm draped over your shoulder for support, the two of you made your way through the patrons towards the exit. The cool night air hit you as you stepped outside, a welcome relief from the warmth and noise of the crowded tavern.

As you walked, Quincy stumbled slightly, and you tightened your grip on her to keep her steady. Despite her drunken state, she was surprisingly light on her feet, her laughter echoing through the empty streets as you made your way back to the ship.

The journey back felt shorter than you expected, the familiar sight of the Victoria Punk looming ahead in the darkness. With Quincy's help, you climbed aboard, grateful for the safety and familiarity of the deck beneath your feet.

As you helped Quincy to her cot, you couldn't help but smile. She was a troublemaker and she got on your nerves half the time with her antics but she was your friend. You made sure she was comfortable and placed a bucket at her feet, just in case.

With Quincy safely tucked away, you made your way back up the deck with a change of clothes in your hands and your toiletries. You reached the showers, discarding your clothes and putting your things in a locker. You wrapped your body in your pink fluffy towel as you entered the steamed filled room.

You stopped in your tracks at the sight of your captain under one of the showers. He didn’t seem to notice you, water droplets flowed down his chest, his eyes were closed, mouth slightly agape in pleasure. His hand was pumping up and down his dick. Metal scraps that usually made up his left arm littered on the floor. You startled in realization.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What did you do? You panicked. He hadn’t seen you yet. You started to turn away. That’s right you could just turn back and forget about this. No one had to know. Your foot caught on a wooden bucket in your sudden movement. A deafening clang rung in the silence of the room as it tumbled around.

“Fuck,” you squeaked and turned back to your captain. His lidded gaze was looking right at you. He was amused. Your eyes went to the floor.

Eustass ‘captain’ Kid had felt your presence far before you’d seen him. He hadn’t known it was you. No, that was just a pleasant surprise. Truth be told he didn’t mind being caught, hell they’d all seen each other in compromising situations a thousand times over. A ship was small and everyone had urges. Most of his crew had caught him dick in his hand at least a few times now. They’d usually just turn back and never speak of it again. But as he looked at your panicked form, clad only in a towel, he couldn’t help himself but grin.

“Captain,” you managed to choke out. You were stuttering some kind of apology, not daring looking him in the eye. Cute.

“You gonna help or you wanna watch?” He asked his voice low.

“What?” Your eyes shot up to meet his.

He cocked his head, his lips curved in a slow knowing smile. “You heard me, kitten.”

Damn right you’d heard him. Your mind was just struggling to keep up.

Your feet moved before your rational thoughts could decide otherwise, droplets from the shower head soaking your towel as you joined him under the stream of warm water. Your hand delicately settled on his chest as you looked up at him through your lashes. Satisfaction with your decision was clear in his eyes, pupils blown eclipsing their fiery color. His hand buried itself in your hair, leaning in for a kiss.

“Well?” he whispered against your lips, hot breath mingling with yours. He waited for you to make the first move.

Your gaze flickered against his features, taking him in. You leaned in, placing a tender kiss on his lips. His grip tightened in your locks, mouth moving against yours hungrily as he pressed your bodies closer to one another. Without breaking away, he spun you around trapping you against the wall, the cold wet tile a distant sensation as your entire being melted into his touch. His knee parted open your legs, you felt a soft pressure at your core.

“Captain,” you muttered against his lips, the sound somehow needy. “I don’t actually… really… know what to do,” you admitted shyly.

He stopped his exploration, body backing up ever so slightly as he looked in your eyes, gaze searching yours. His grip loosened. His forehead hit the cold tile of the wall next to your head as he deliberated over something. A soft ‘fuck’ reached your ear, and he suddenly withdrew entirely. Quickly turning off the shower, he wrapped a towel around his hips and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder none so delicately. His metal arm reconstructed itself as he walked.

You squeaked in surprise at the sudden shift in your vision. You attempted a small protest, but he was already on the move, striding past the door of the showers right onto the deck, the cool air of the night making the hairs on your body stand up. 

“Captain!” you screeched in embarrassment at your lack of propriety even though the ship was empty. 

His steps left damp marks on the wooden planks as he ignored your pleas, his hand tightening in the softness of your thigh when you tried to wriggle out of his grip. He took a quick turn. The metal door of his quarters swung open far before you even reached it and closed behind him just as fast.

You heard the lock click as he threw you unceremoniously on his bed. He looked down at you, hunger clear in his eyes. 

“You a virgin?” He asked. When you didn’t answer he continued, “cause I can work with that. Just need to know first.”

“I’m not,” You felt your cheeks turn pink. “It’s just been a while.” You felt bold under his gaze, the lust plastered on his features somehow emboldening you. Your hand slowly rose to the edge of your towel, undoing the small knot and revealing your naked form.

Kid tossed his head back, hooded eyes devouring you. “Fuck”, he muttered, “you’ll be the end of me.”

He leaned down over you on the bed. His lips found yours in a domineering kiss, biting and ravaging. You gave in, happily acquiescing to all his greedy requests, his tongue leading yours.

You moaned, everything feeling dizzy with desire. One of his knees parted your legs slightly, making space for him. His lips left yours, travelling to your jaw, down your throat, occasionally stopping for a soft bite. He seemed to be thinking about something, his attention both on you and far away. As he gave your nipple a small flick, one of your hands buried itself in his hair, the other on his arm for support as needy whimpers escaped you.

You felt the way his grin widened against your skin as he started shuffling downwards, kissing down your abdomen. Realization downed on you.

“Wait!” You cried out, almost panicky. He looked up at you, amusement tinging the glint in his eyes. “I-I’ve never…”

He chuckled, the gravelly sound sending shocks of electricity to your core. “I know, cherry girl,” he put emphasis on the nickname, a shit-eating expression stuck on his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of ya,” he continued, each word punctuated with a kiss.

You could feel his quiet exhales ghosting over your heat. Your breath caught in anticipation. His metal arm laced around your thigh, bringing it up over his shoulder, his cold steel hand resting heavily on your hip, pinning you down. He kissed the inside of your thigh, gaze never leaving yours. You looked away shyly. He bit down almost painfully, earning him a gasp.

“That won’t do kitten,” he drawled, “look at me”.

You obeyed, eyes snapping to him, the sight of him between your legs almost too much. Your cheeks heated.  

“Good girl,” he muttered against the softness of your skin.

Oh gods. You let out a depraved moan at the praise. Fuck. You liked that.

His eyes sparkled at your reaction. He kissed your thigh again, getting closer to your core. “Don’t ya dare look away, alright? You keep those pretty eyes on me.” 

You nodded, eager to please.

The thumb of his flesh hand swiped up your slit, parting your folds, playing with the slick positively dripping out of you. It settled right above your clit, pushing up the hood slightly. “So wet for me,” he commented. 

You opened your mouth to say you didn’t know what but his tongue met your heat first. A squeak at the new sensation passed your mouth instead. Your body tensed up, unsure how to react to the intensity of the pleasure wave coming over you. His mouth latched onto your clit, tongue working expertly.

Your hips bucked against his face but the weight of his metal arm pinned you down more firmly. You couldn’t help the begging mewls escaping your lips, incoherent pleas echoing against the steel walls. You moved your free hand to cover your mouth, embarrassed, but the way his glare turned dangerous made you drop it just as fast, fingers tightening in the soft fabric of his bed instead.

Pleased, he redoubled his pace. The hand you had on his head clenched in his hair, nails digging into his scalp as you tried not to push down on him too hard. He groaned at the feeling. You could feel the grin on his lips more than you could see it as his tongue dipped lower, his thumb taking over the bundle of nerves momentarily as he explored your heat fully.

His tongue delved in and out of you as he increased the pressure on your clit. You let out a sharp cry at the intensity of the sensations, your breath struggling to find a normal rhythm at the ferocity of his onslaught. It was all so fucking much. Your hand twitched, hips trying to squirm away, white edging at your vision.

“Captain,” you moaned. “I’m close,” that feeling of ecstasy was just right out of your grip.

He hummed in understanding, stopping his exploration to renew his attention fully on your clit. Devouring you with an intensity you didn’t know possible. It didn’t take long for your orgasm to crash over you, swallowing you whole. But, he didn’t stop, tongue lapping as you rode out the waves.

Your body struggled to get out of his grip as pleasure started to feel too much against his unrelenting attention, an almost painful assault on your senses. Everything other than his lips at your core faded out of existence, the feeling bordering on distressing as your consciousness grappled to comprehend the surges of pleasure still washing over you. Your back arched, body tense as your hips sought to back away. The hand you had in his hair tried to push him off. It didn’t matter, he was stronger than you.

“One more for me, kitten,” He demanded.

His hand left your trembling thigh and dropped down lower, pushing one finger, then a second inside of you as his tongue continued his work. He pumped in and out of you lazily, the squelching sound obscene as he felt your heat twitch around him. Your breath struggled between sharp cries. It was too much. Your mind fell into oblivion as a second more intense orgasm hit you.

For a moment, it felt as though your soul had left your shaking body but then all sensations came back with a vengeance, threatening to steal away the rationality of your mind.

“Captain! Captain!” you sobbed, tears staining your cheeks. “Shit! Stop!” He didn’t. “Stop! It’s too much!” Panic laced the tone of your voice. He backed away a little, chin wet with your arousal, fingers still buried in your cunt, playing with your slick. You were panting, breath struggling to find its normal rhythm.

“Do you want to stop here, kitten?” He asked, softly biting your inner thigh.

“What? No!” Your words were frantic. “’’twas just too much, I…” you panted, “Just need to slow down for a bit” you answered between gasps, the world still spinning around you.

“Slow down, huh?” the grin on his lips was downright evil. The pad of his thumb found your clit, tracing soft small circles as he continued fingering you. “Can’t keep up with me? Kitten?” you whimpered, the tight feeling you had in your stomach coming back, begging for release as he carried on teasingly. “Thought you had fantasies ‘bout me.”

You averted your eyes shyly. “Fucking Quincy,” you muttered under your breath.

He chuckled. “Kitten,” his tone had a warning edge to it. “Didn’t say your eyes could leave me, did I?” He asked. You brought your eyes back to his. “That’s my girl, so good for me,” the praise elicited a moan out of you. He added a little more pressure to your clit, your walls fluttering around his fingers. You could feel your orgasm in reach.

So fucking close.

He stopped.

You couldn’t help the “No!” you squeaked when you felt the sweet promise of pleasure being taken away from you.

He laughed, a low rumble. “How about you tell me ‘bout those fantasies of yours? I might even let you come if they’re good.” He resumed the soft circles.

Your face felt hot. The feeling of humiliation at the thought of saying them out loud somehow turning you on even more. “I-I…” You hesitated. “I’ve thought about you, captain, fucking me for a while,” you committed to it. “When I brought you lemonade last time, I thought about you fucking me against the door of your workshop. How you’d slip my panties to the side and fuck me senseless. Maybe you’d bend me over that desk of yours and take me there too.” Just the thought made the promise of your orgasm return.

“Oh? Really?” He was clearly amused. His fingers didn’t stop. “That all?” he probed for more.

“Gods no!” Your high was growing and growing, all but the touch of his fingers and the scorching heat of his gaze felt fuzzy. “I’ve thought about riding you so many times. In a bed, even in that chair you always sit in. I’ve thought about how you’d sound as I move myself up and down your dick. I wondered if you would leave bruises on my hips as pleasure would take you.”

A hum caught in the back of his throat at the thought. You were so close. He stopped.

“No!” You screamed in frustration. “Please,” you almost wept, your high denied to you for a second time. He grinned.

“Go on,” He demanded, evidently entertained.

“I’ve also thought,” You started, suddenly feeling bashful at this one fantasy. “Thought about you using your powers on me. Pinning me down as you fuck me without mercy.”

Kid moaned. Loudly.

Your eyes widened a bit in surprise. The pressure of his thumb increased slightly. Emboldened, you continued. “Thought about you coming inside me, having your seed drench my panties, drip down my thighs as I have to carry on my duties on the ship.” 

The thought made your walls clench hard around his fingers, a desperate moan making its way out of your mouth. He didn’t stop this time, continuing the come-hither motion of his fingers as you rode out your high.

“Good girl, you did so well for me, kitten,” He said when your breathing stabilized. Gods, you could get addicted to this, the way his praises made you feel. “How ‘bout we make one of those a reality?”

“Wha-“ you didn’t have time to finish what you’d started to say. In a flash he’d expertly flipped you both around positioning you over his dick. He leaned up on his elbow, hand in your hair he crashed your lips together, teeth biting at your lower lip before his tongue darted in, exploring your mouth. You tumbled to his chest, his hard-on pressing against your core. You felt some of your slick cooled down by the air drip down your thigh, onto his cock.

He let himself drop on the bed dragging you with him. His metal hand sliding from your hip down your ass. “Captain,” you moaned against him as he squeezed plush flesh. Your own hand slipped between your bodies, grabbed his length. You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of nervousness at how big he felt against your fingers. It was no surprise, really, considering how massive he was compared to you. You gave him a few slow pumps, grip tightening against the tip. He tossed his head back at the sensation, an unabashedly loud moan escaping him.

“Kitten,” He almost begged. “I’m not sure I can continue being nice like that with you.”

His gaze was intense, filled with desire. You leaned back, lips leaving his, your other hand taking place on his chest for support. You studied his face as you brought his cock at your entrance. Gods. He was so pretty. You wanted to make him come in your hands but your need for him to be inside you was just as bad, if not worse.

“Captain, you’re big! Much bigger than what I’ve had before,” You stated, beginning to lower yourself on him, the tip already feeling like a stretch.

You heard a faint ‘fuck’ coming from his lips, stuttered swears uttered below his breath.

“I’m going to need you to be nice,” you whimpered as you slid down a bit lower. His hand settled on your hips digging hard, his self-restraint clearly starting to fray. Maybe it would leave bruises tomorrow. The thought made you moan, clench slightly around him.

“Going to need you to be nice for a bit,” you repeated. He groaned in somewhat acquiescence, eyes not leaving yours. Your voice went up an octave as you continued, “but I don’t want you to be nice.” You took him up to the hilt. “I want you to be rough. I want you to use me.” 

His red painted nails dug painfully into your soft flesh at your words. Yes! That would leave bruises. Good. “Just need you to let me get used to the stretch first,” you ended.

“Fuck, kitten,” He smiled as your walls fluttered around him. “You feel so fucking good.”

His hand left your hip, nails softly grazing down your outer thigh before soothingly going back up. An electric shock of pleasure went down your back at the sensation. You gave a tentative sway of your hips. Your nails dug into his chest, the stretch was so intense, but you thought you could take it. Your movements emboldened after a few ups and downs. Kid gave a low moan, tossing his head back against the covers, his own back arching slightly as he struggled to stay still. He was loud. He didn’t care. You felt pride to be the one getting these moans out of him this time around.

You smiled in satisfaction. Your thighs already trembling in pleasure. “Captain, fuck me! Please!” you pleaded.

He didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the words left your mouth his metal hand secured you in place and his hips began to move in and out of you fast. His other hand traveled up your side to your breast giving playful tugs on your nipple. His gaze was as wild as the pace he’d set.

Your mind labored to keep up with the waves of pleasure coursing through you. Your breast bounced with each hard thrust. You moaned loudly every time his pelvis hit your oversensitive clit, your nails leaving red scratches all over him as you struggled to find purchase. You could already feel that you were close, but his pace was too fast for you to get any word in.

It was not like you had to tell him though. With the way you clenched and fluttered against him, he already knew. “That’s it kitten, let go for me,” he said between two moans.

It was all it took for you to do just that. Pleasure took over your senses, your wall squeezing him almost painfully.

“Fuck,” you heard him swear distantly, through the curtains of your high.

You slowly came back to reality. He was still going. You writhed in ecstasy.

“Shit, kitten, can I come inside?” He asked, urgency lacing his words.

Gods. “Yes!” you begged over and over again. It didn’t take him long to reach climax either. His grip tightened on your hips, and you felt his seed flood your womb as he moaned loudly. Hot sticky fluid seeped out of you, painted your thighs, mixed with your slick.

You were exhausted. He’s was still buried to the hilt inside of you as you dropped down on his panting chest. A moment of comfortable silence passed between the two of you.

A chuckle escaped him. “Shit, kitten,” he said between heavy breaths. “Would’ve done that much earlier if I’d known.”

You couldn’t help the smile that made its way to your lips. “You really only had to ask, captain,” you answered. His chest rose up and down in a deep laughter at that. You began to back away but his metal arm pinned you down against him.

“You know,” he started to say, his voice rough from your activities. “As much as you calling me captain makes my dick twitch, you can call me by my name when I’m balls deep in you, kitten.” His hand traveled up and down on your back, sometimes settling here and there, thumb soothingly drawing small circles.

“Kid,” you uttered shyly. How often had you daydreamed of calling him that? 

“That’s my girl,” he answered, his hand traveling up your back, finding its place at your nape, fingers tangling in your hair he guided your face towards his, locking your lips together. It was softer than the ones before, more considerate.

You moaned in his mouth, his metal hand found it was to your hip, squeezing your ass before pinning you still. You could feel his cock coming back to life buried deep within you.

“Kid,” you pleaded.

He smiled against your lips. “The night’s young, kitten. I’m just getting started with you.”

Your walls twitched at the growing stretch, you were oversensitive everywhere. “Fuck,” your breath caught.

He gave a tentative thrust into you, your whole body shuddering before he flipped you over, your back hitting the covers. He backed away momentarily, you felt empty without his cock stretching you. He took one of your ankles in his metal hand, bringing it to his shoulder. He reentered you at an agonizingly slow pace, clearly looking for something with each thrust. His flesh hand took your other knee, positioning it in different ways.

“K-Kid! W-what are you doing?” you couldn’t help but wonder.

He didn’t need to answer, you felt it first. The angle of his thrust made you see stars. A sharp cry escaped your lips, tears of pleasure threatening to flood your eyes.

“Ahh, there it is,” He roared in triumph.

With no warning he started pounding into you without mercy. His flesh hand left your leg once he was sure you’d anchored yourself, instead going to stimulate your clit.

You couldn’t control the sobs of pleasure that spilled out of your mouth. Your hands fought to find purchase in the covers of the bed, digging as hard as humanely possible as your entire body struggled to keep up with the ecstasy coursing through it.

“Kid,” you begged, as you came around him, walls spasming uncontrollably. He didn’t stop as you rode your high.

“You’re doing so well, kitten,” he praised you, between his own moans.

He left your heat for a moment when he felt you coming back to reality. He flipped you around. Your arms failed to keep you upright, your face burying itself in fabric instead. Drool and tears seeping in the soft cotton.

He reentered you, continuing his merciless pace. You felt your thighs tremble, your whole body tense and slack simultaneously. His metal hand kept your hips in place, flesh hand finding its rightful place at your clit. Your pleas were muffled, your nails digging in the covers harder than you thought possible. Your toes curled. You could only see white as pleasure flowed through you. When Kid came inside of you, your body dropped down heavily. You were so tired. You heard him say something but your brain didn’t register the words as you drifted to sleep.

The soft rays of the sun woke you up. You were laying down on your captain’s chest, his arm pinning you against him. You blushed as memories of your activities flooded your mind. 

Bathroom. You needed to go to the bathroom.

You tried to move his arm from you. Your whole body felt so sore. He groaned softly as you inched slowly out of his grip. Your legs almost gave out, feeling wobbly as you made your way to the bathroom attached to his quarters.

Your thighs were surprisingly clean, you spotted both yours and Kid’s towels in the hamper. He’d clearly used them to clean you up after you’d passed out. Your cheeks heated at the thought.

Fuck. You panicked. With your towel gone you’d have to find something else to wear as you’d run to your quarters for a change of clothes.

Your eyes landed on clothes scattered all over the room. You wondered if he would be angry if you borrowed one of his shirts. You picked one up from the floor, bringing it to you. You smiled. It smelled like him.

You slipped it on. It was big on you, easily covering you down to your thighs. You creaked the door of his quarters open, head peeking out to see how busy the deck was. No one was in sight. Good. You backed off, ready to make a run for it. A metal arm slammed the door closed before you could do anything.

“Did I say you could go, kitten?” Kid asked, trapping you between him and the door.

You let out a small, surprised squeak.

You turned around to face him slowly. You looked at him through your lashes, meeting his amused gaze. He gave your body a once over, clearly checking you out in his shirt. His flesh hand found its way to your thigh, nails grazing your skin as he roamed upwards, pushing the fabric in his movement.

“Good morning, Captain,” You mumbled shyly, “I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so comfortable.” You rambled on, embarrassed.

A soft smile adorned his features. He leaned down catching your lips almost tenderly, lazily deepening the kiss. His fingers wandered against your body, knee finding its place in-between your legs, hands roughly palming your ass as he moved your bare cunt against his thigh.

You broke away, in need for air. “Kid,” you moaned.

He grinned, his kisses traveling to your neck. “I know it’s the wrong door,” he undid the first button of the shirt you were wearing. “But, If I remember properly,” he continued skillfully undoing button after button. “You have a fantasy involving me fucking you against a door.” The shirt opened, revealing your naked form. “What do you say, we make this one a reality too?”

Kid was fucking you senseless against the door when you heard someone knock against it. You tried to stifle your moans but that only made him redouble his efforts.

“The fuck you want,” Kid yelled between thrusts. “I’m. Fucking. Busy”

“Kid,” you heard Heat’s voice. “I lost the bet, so don’t get mad,” he pleaded. “But…” Through your moans, you heard Quincy say something along the lines of ‘go on, coward’. “Are we still setting sail today?” he asked.

Kid looked at you with a wicked grin. “Delay it for a few days,” he shouted between grunts. “I’ll be busy for a while.”

And he was busy for a while. When he finally let you go, it was with his fur coat draping your shoulders as you ran to your quarters, soft blush on your cheeks.

Fuck. You indeed looked magnificent in red.

← Previous chapter

[saved-fanfiction]

Bb!!!!! Ok! Hear me out!!!!! Bartolomeo fucking you like a whore then later learns you’re a strawhat!!!!!! 

-M✨

MILLIE!!!!! YOU KNOW I’M FUCKING UNHINGED ABOUT THIS MAN!!!! Ok but like YES!!!! Hear me out for a sec.

It’s purely transactional, you’re looking to get fucked and so is he.

He’s all teeth and tongue as he slams you to the door of the dingy hotel room you’re staying at. He so fucking big and the way his fingers tangle roughly in your hair, guiding your head however he wants as his tongue dominates yours is downright dizzying.

When he pulls away, it’s with that shit eating grin and you’re breathless and your knees feel weak. He harshly pulls your head back and you’d struggle a bit out of principle if only you weren’t already struggling to keep yourself upright already. His other hand travels to your jaw and his fingers dig in painfully, forcing it open.

“You like that, huh?” His eyes search yours, looking for confirmation. His smirk widens as sees it, the raw desire, the want in your gaze. He spits in your mouth, his hand moving from your jaw to your mouth, bitter pads of his fingers mixing his spit and yours, dangerously close to your throat.

“Just like a fucking whore,” he chuckles, fingers so far he’s making you gag. And you can feel yourself dripping at the degradation, at the satisfaction in his gaze.

He unceremoniously chucks you on the bed. Doesn’t even bother pulling down your underwear, just pulls your skirt up and slides the drenched fabric to the side before his tongue meets your heat without warning. Goes right down to business. The metal of his tongue piercing against your clit makes you see stars and he brings you so near the edge. He’s uncaring in the force of his fingers digging in your flesh, inevitably leaving bruises behind.

He stops as you feel yourself teetering, almost there. And as you open your mouth to protest, he sneers down at you and harshly pulls your panties off, stuffing them in your mouth. The taste of your arousal strong on your tongue.

Before you can react he flips you over, trapping your thighs between his. You try to scramble up but you feel his grip in your hair as he pushes you back down. The sound of of him undoing his belt is loud in the silence of the room.

He slides in easily, his teeth sinking in your shoulder. One of his hands finds your clit, balancing the fine line between pain and pleasure as he draws out blood.

When Bartolomeo finally starts fucking you, he fucks you rough. The hand he has in you hair pushes your face ruthlessly into the musty sheets of the motel as he pounds mercilessly into you. The squelching sound is obscene and the bed creaks and slams loudly against the wall with each of his thrusts.

Your drool seeps past the thin fabric of your ruined underwear mixing with tears and snot into the rough weave of the covers and your fingers claw desperately, catching into snapping threads. Your muffled moans are desperate, stuck at the back of your throat, coming out closer to sobs as you struggle for breath. Each time his teeth sinks into your flesh a sharp cry escapes you and his attention to your clit intensifies.

You’d already been so close just with his tongue and between the ecstasy of his fingers and the ruthlessness of his cock, he brings you over the edge repeatedly, your cunt twitching around him.

When he’s over with you, his seed hot against your back and your thighs, he simply slaps your ass one last time and leaves without uttering a word.

So when Bartolomeo sees you in that house on top of the hill, chatting and laughing along with your crew, bite marks and bruises still fresh on your skin, he can’t fucking believe it. And when his beloved Luffy-senpai introduces you as a member of the crew he can feel the blood draining from his face and he can’t help but reconsider his decisions of the past night.

FUCK I really should make this a full fic… adds it to the WIP list

[saved-fanfiction]

One Piece Masterlist

Nothing here is written by us, we're a recommendations blog, these are all pieces written by other creators

If there's anything you think we've tagged incorrectly/you have a users tumblr where we don't/a link is wrong or broken - please let us know and we can adjust it

Feat. content about Straw Hats, Marines, Cross Guild, Red Haired Pirates, Heart Pirates, Whitebeard Pirates, Kid Pirates

Reader insert content ahead

✅ - SFW Content

🔞 - NSFW Content

Straw Hats

✅ Handling Jealousy by @zorosgirlfriend Monster Trio/GN!Reader

✅ First Kisses by @silliestgoobster Sanji, Koby, Mihawk/F!Reader

✅ Princes of Pining by @thetrasha Sanji, Ace, Buggy, Brook/F!Reader

✅ Body Pillow by @penkura Sanji/GN!Reader

✅ When they get jealous by @vampiric-tempt Zoro, Crocodile, Law/GN!Reader

🔞 Calling them Daddy (pt.2) by @maddddstuff Zoro, Shanks, Smoker/GN!Reader

🔞 "Oh I didn't shave" headcanons by @alj0saray Sanji/GN!Reader/AFAB!Reader

Marines

✅ A walk in town by @jintaka-hane Smoker/F!Reader

🔞 Soft Hearted by @2b4st4r Doflamingo, Crocodile, Katakuri, Buggy, Lucci, Kid, Barolomeo/GN!Reader

✅ First Kisses by @silliestgoobster Sanji, Koby, Mihawk/F!Reader

✅ Intimidation by @mostlymihawk Mihawk, Shanks, Koby/GN!Reader

🔞 Calling them Daddy (pt.2) by @maddddstuff Zoro, Shanks, Smoker/GN!Reader

✅ I'm Your Husband by @inseobts Zoro, Sanji, Law, Shanks, Ace/F!Reader

Cross Guild

🔞 Dreaming of you by @fanaticsnail Crocodile/GN!reader, Mihawk/GN!reader, Buggy/GN!reader

✅ Strawberry Lemonade by @softlypaintedseafoam Buggy/GN!Reader

🔞 You Give Me Fever by @indydonuts Crocodile/F!Reader

🔞 Soft Hearted by @2b4st4r Doflamingo, Crocodile, Katakuri, Buggy, Lucci, Kid, Barolomeo/GN!Reader

🔞 Quiet by @discordantwritings Mihawk/GN!Reader

✅ First Kisses by @silliestgoobster Sanji, Koby, Mihawk/F!Reader

✅ Pasodoble by @sunflowersatori Crocodile/F!Reader

🔞Strip poker by @madwomansapologist Crocodile/F!Reader

✅ Well Earned Praise by @sordidmusings Mihawk/GN!Reader

✅ Soulmates by @short-honey-badger Mihawk/GN!Reader

✅ Princes of Pining by @thetrasha Sanji, Ace, Buggy, Brook/F!Reader

🔞Happy Anniversary by @crescentmoontsuki Crocodile/M!Reader

✅ When they get jealous by @vampiric-tempt Zoro, Crocodile, Law/GN!Reader

🔞 Our Precious Assistant by @discordantwritings Cross Guild/GN!Reader

✅ I'm sorry, I just care for you by @ladymictez Mihawk/M!Reader

✅ I'll crawl home to her by @lover-from-the-past Crocodile/GN!Reader

✅ Them asking you out by @merbear25 Cross Guild/M!Reader

✅ Intimidation by @mostlymihawk Mihawk, Shanks, Koby/GN!Reader

✅ Amor Fati by @lady-of-endless Crocodile/GN!Reader

✅ Our Treasure by @lumiolivier Cross Guild/F!Reader

🔞Confronts you after a spicy dream by @wispitty Crocodile, Mihawk, Shanks, Law, Marco, Ace, Corazon/F!Reader

Germa

✅ Trouble by @zaimta Niji/GN!Reader

Red Haired Pirates

✅ Together by @cinnbar-bun Benn/F!Reader

✅ He's in love with you by @fanaticsnail Benn/F!Reader

Chasing Constellations by @pandora-writes-one-piece Shanks/GN!Reader

✅ Intimidation by @mostlymihawk Mihawk, Shanks, Koby/GN!Reader

🔞 Calling them Daddy (pt.2) by @maddddstuff Zoro, Shanks, Smoker/GN!Reader

✅ Enemies to lovers by @creati-bunny Shanks/GN!Reader

🔞Confronts you after a spicy dream by @wispitty Crocodile, Mihawk, Shanks, Law, Marco, Ace, Corazon/F!Reader

✅ I'm Your Husband by @inseobts Zoro, Sanji, Law, Shanks, Ace/F!Reader

Heart Pirates

✅ When they get jealous by @vampiric-tempt Zoro, Crocodile, Law/GN!Reader

✅ Children by @penkura Law/GN!Reader

🔞 Pure honey by @becertainlust Law/GN!Reader

🔞Confronts you after a spicy dream by @wispitty Crocodile, Mihawk, Shanks, Law, Marco, Ace, Corazon/F!Reader

✅ I'm Your Husband by @inseobts Zoro, Sanji, Law, Shanks, Ace/F!Reader

Whitebeard Pirates

✅ Princes of Pining by @thetrasha Sanji, Ace, Buggy, Brook/F!Reader

🔞Confronts you after a spicy dream by @wispitty Crocodile, Mihawk, Shanks, Law, Marco, Ace, Corazon/F!Reader

✅ I'm Your Husband by @inseobts Zoro, Sanji, Law, Shanks, Ace/F!Reader

Kid Pirates

🔞 Soft Hearted by @2b4st4r Doflamingo, Crocodile, Katakuri, Buggy, Lucci, Kid, Barolomeo/GN!Reader

🔞 Feet by @fanaticsnail Heat/GN!Reader

[saved-fanfiction]

private party ♡

➤ summary: It's too goddamn hot out, so Doflamingo surrenders his strength to join you in the pool. (18+)

➤ pairing: donquixote doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.5k

➤ warnings: dom!doffy, pool sex, belly bulge, exhibitionism, getting caught, degradation, established relationship (kinda), fem reader

➤ notes: i am so normal about the doffy pool scene where baby 5 is introduced. i barely ever think about it i swear.... also this is my softest doffy fic and he's still SO unhinged >:3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Dressrosa’s famously perfect weather had been overtaken by a mid-summer heat wave, and today was brutal. The sweltering sun turned the air hazy with heat. Not a single cloud stained the bright blue sky to provide shade from its burning rays. Staying outside for more than ten minutes was a daunting task. Nearly every member of the Donquixote Family was staying cool inside the spacious castle with its doors closed and curtains drawn.

Fortunately, the palace courtyard was an oasis.

An oversized pink flamingo float bounced against the side of the oval-shaped pool as you swam laps straight down the middle, keeping most of your body underwater. The scent of sunscreen and chlorine filled the air. Your lover (for lack of a better word) reclined on a padded couch, sipping a yellowish-pink tropical cocktail decorated with a paper parasol. His signature pink coat had obviously been discarded, but so had every item of clothing besides a tiny pair of shorts. Tan lines had no place on his godly figure.

The king of Dressrosa unashamedly admired you as he sunbathed. Even behind his sunglasses, you felt his lusty gaze trained on the way your body moved – and your skimpy little crimson bikini. You intentionally put on a show for him, arching your back as you dove underwater and making sure your tiny bottoms were pulled a bit too tight against your ass. 

Both of you were completely alone. Doflamingo had even sent away the servants who periodically refilled his drink and brought out poolside snacks. You weren’t entirely sure why he chose to keep the pool after he became king – the only ones who really used it were you and the women who hung around Señor Pink. The Family’s Devil Fruit users safely stayed dry on the surrounding lounge chairs, and Dellinger hated chlorine. Doflamingo did love his pool parties, though.

Getting lonely and bored, you swam to the edge of the pool, emerging near Doflamingo’s feet and wiping water out of your eyes. The blonde placed your own drink on the ground in front of you. 

“You jealous?” You grinned cheekily, sipping the chilled liquid through a neon pink straw. “It must suck to not be able to swim, especially on a day like today. The water is soooo refreshing.”

Doflamingo chuckled at your boldness. “I’ll live.”

“I’ve never even seen you go in.” He was certainly good at keeping you company while you swam, though, and his flamingo float was ideal for cuddling (and less appropriate activities). “You won’t drown in a few feet of water.”

“Water takes away my powers, baby.”

“Boooo.” You splashed a small wave onto his hairy legs. “You can be without your strings for five minutes. Get in here.”

If anyone else did that to him, he would’ve forced them on their knees and made them beg for mercy. Luckily, he found your bratty playfulness more amusing than irritating. Certainly better than an overly passive, demure lover. And the pool did look nice, beautifully shimmering under the relentless sun. It was even more tempting now that cool droplets of water ran down his calves.  

To your surprise, your lover sighed exaggeratedly but actually stood from the couch, stripping down to his underwear and revealing his half-hard clothed bulge. As you excitedly went to grab a blow-up beach ball on the other side of the pool, you could’ve sworn you felt something tugging at the strap tying the bikini around your neck.

Doflamingo kept a cautious hand on the railing as he strolled down the pool steps, hissing in relief at the cold water. Strength be damned, this felt incredible. He kneeled down and reclined backwards to submerge his enormous body, though he kept his head above water, and soaked off the undignified layer of sticky sweat coating his skin. Thank fuck his throne birthright wasn’t on some desolate winter island. 

You trotted back over to him while tossing the ball in your hands. “Doffy, I think my top is coming undone. Can you fix it?” 

Innocently turning your back to him and holding your hair away from your neck. He grabbed the thin red strings pitifully slipping out of their knot, but instead of tying them, the blonde let them fall past your shoulders. Before you could react, his big hands forced their way under your bikini cups to openly grope your tits. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted, pet?” He giggled maniacally as he tugged at your nipples. Being on his knees evened out your height difference a bit, so he curled his giant body over yours, his hard abs pressed flush against your back. Kneading your breasts with no gentleness, squeezing them like stress balls. “Getting all wet for me? Teasing me with this pathetic excuse for a bathing suit?”

You bit your lip – he wasn’t wrong, but you did want to play volleyball with him first. The ball fell from your hands and sadly floated away. 

Doflamingo pulled off your top and carelessly tossed it aside. “This tiny thing leaves nothing to the imagination, it’s fucking disgusting. I want you to wear it every day.” He pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder then bit down as he harshly twisted your peaked nipples. “But just for me.”

“P-Please, Doffy…” You wiggled your hips, squirming against him.

“Needy slut.” Laughing giddily, he licked across your teeth then plunged the wet muscle into your mouth. Pineapple juice and expensive white rum lingered on his tongue. One hand cradled your jaw to keep your lips locked as the other trailed down your tummy underwater, slipping under the waistband of your bottoms. 

Doflamingo teasingly caressed your mound then harshly pinched your clit, then tugged at the sensitive nub. “That’s for splashing me earlier.”

“Shit, I’ll splash you again,” you chuckled, letting your head fall back against his shoulder.

“You’re such a damn masochist, making me get creative with my punishments.” You nearly folded in half when his long fingers ran through your slit, but his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you upright. His free hand went back to caressing your tits. The blonde giggled in delight when he felt the slick between your legs – you were so responsive, so easy. “This doesn’t feel like pool water. You’re all worked up from a little kiss?”

“You’re all worked up from watching me swim, pervert.” Grinding your ass against his massive bulge to emphasize your point.

The blonde slapped your tit and you jerked against his tight hold. “It’s a good thing your bratty mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock, since you’re starting to piss me off.”

Maybe your alcohol-induced cheekiness had reached its limit. Doflamingo’s infatuation with you made him no less terrifying. 

He wasn’t in the mood for long and drawn-out foreplay, though he normally adored seeing you break and beg for his cock with tears in your eyes. But your tiny cunt couldn’t even take his tip without loosening it up first. Being blessed with a perfect body, godlike height, and a monster cock was such a curse.

Resting his chin in the crook of your neck, the blonde observed the way his nimble fingers expertly moved inside you. His string abilities were gone but he still worked his puppeteering magic inside you, scissoring your wet walls apart and prodding at your sensitive spot. The adorably wanton whines falling from your lips made his dick twitch. 

Once he decided you were ready, he easily flipped you around to face him and sat down on the pool steps with you in his lap. Doflamingo freed his heavy cock, letting it spring up and bounce against his abdomen underwater. Instead of taking off your bikini bottoms, he simply pushed them to the side to expose your cunt.

“I’ve never fucked in a pool before,” the blonde chuckled, grabbing underneath your thighs and easily manhandling you into position. Even with his strength drained away, he was still much stronger than the average person – those sculpted muscles weren’t just for show. “You better feel grateful, darling. I hardly have any ‘first time’s left.”

The thick tip of his cock forced its way inside, then a harsh thrust made your eyes roll back into your head. Water resistance made the movement less intense than he intended, but several inches of his massive length were snugly inside your pussy. He continued pulling you down until a pretty bulge protruded from your stomach, though he still wasn’t fully sheathed in you. Doflamingo sighed in relief and reclined back on his forearms, submerged in the turquoise water up to his pecs. “Go on, please your king.”

You braced your palms right above his flashy gold nipple piercings, found your footing, then started riding his dick at a slow pace, feeling every vein and ridge drag against your inner walls. The water rippled and lightly splashed around you with every movement. 

Doflamingo traced the outline of your lips, and you batted your eyelashes coquettishly as you sucked his finger into your mouth. Definitely a mistake – you pulled away with a scrunched up face and tried to spit out the overpowering taste of chlorine. He cackled and shoved two digits all the way down your throat, twisting them around to hear you gag. 

The king was in paradise. Summer sun beating down on his face, cool water coating his tanned skin, and his favorite toy bouncing on his cock. He was getting bored with the slow grinding of your hips against his pelvis, but he was too relaxed to do anything about it. Getting out of the pool and back into the unbearable heat was the last thing on his mind. 

Doflamingo grabbed the meat of your ass to abruptly take over control of your movements. He bobbed you up and down, admiring the way your tits jiggled before leaning forward to suck a nipple into his mouth. Fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled him closer, gripping tighter when he abused your tits even more.

He rubbed the outline of his cock in your stomach then pressed down on it. You bit back a debauched moan. An angry vein popped in his forehead before he grabbed your cheeks and squeezed meanly. “Don’t hide your cute noises from me.”

“S-sorry – mmmh!” You choked on your own spit when he suddenly slammed balls deep into you, his gigantic cock molding your insides to take him perfectly. 

The sound of a door opening echoed throughout the courtyard. You froze and anxiously sought out the source. Diamante emerged into the sunlight, his red eye makeup smudged by sweat and using his hand to fan himself. You leaned forward against Doflamingo to cover your breasts, not wanting to ignite his possessive nature, but made no other move. The blonde didn’t even flinch.

Diamante squinted in confusion. Sun-sparkled water blurred and distorted your lower halves, but what you were doing was incredibly obvious. “Doffy, why the hell are you in the pool?”

His boss was buried in your guts and that was what he was concerned about? 

Doflamingo grinned. “The water actually feels great. You should try it – oh, but not now. I’m a little busy.” The blonde jerked his hips harshly up into you, making you keen. Pink sunglass lenses stayed trained on his friend in an almost challenging way. “What do you want?”

The elite officer just huffed, making you believe that this probably wasn’t the first time he saw Doflamingo like this. An odd pang of jealousy struck you at the thought. He never caught you.

“It’s nothing serious, just find me when you’re done.” He snickered as he stepped back inside, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll keep Dellinger and Sugar away from here. Have fun.”

When the door slammed shut, Doflamingo pressed his lips to your ear and whispered, “I felt your pussy get tighter when he looked at us. You filthy whore. You like being watched? Or do you like being owned by me?” He sounded ecstatic. “I’ll fuck you on camera and broadcast it to the entire country if that makes you happy.”

A shiver ran down your spine. “That’s t-terrible.”

“No, it’s a fucking good idea. Then everyone’ll know who the prettiest girl in Dressrosa belongs to.” His surprisingly sweet comment was punctuated by his hips bucking into you, shoving the head of his cock insistently against your cervix. 

Doflamingo flexed his thighs and began using you like a fleshlight, setting a fast and rough pace while letting out incredibly erotic groans. His tanned skin looked irresistible, so you leaned forward to mouth along his thick neck and then kiss him passionately. Doflamingo eagerly reciprocated, rewarding you by pressing his thumb against your clit to rub circles against it. 

“My perfect little toy,” he panted between kisses, a long string of saliva hanging off the tip of his lengthy tongue. “Such a good girl, so eager to serve me. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” 

Something about the intense heat or the negative effects of water seemed to bring out his more romantic side – though there was nothing romantic about the way his dick bullied its way inside you. You gripped onto his shoulders for dear life, feeling your cunt throb around him. 

“Doffy, ‘m so close, p-please let me…” 

Beautiful eyes peeked out from under his sunglasses – lust-blown, predatory, and crazed. “Cum for me, pet.”

Lips slammed against yours as the building pressure inside you exploded. Your cunt gushed and soaked his cock in your juices, stars flashing behind your eyes. Doflamingo obsessively swallowed your moans, rubbing your clit through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He rutted his hips like a feral dog before he felt his balls tighten. Thick ropes of cum sprayed deep inside your walls and filled you to the brim. Through hazy eyes, you noticed how divine he looked at his peak – damp blonde hair sticking to his forehead and sun reflecting off water droplets coating his skin. Head thrown back in bliss, plush lips parted and letting out a heavenly, whorish moan.

Breathless and giddy laughter snapped you out of your trance. “Whatcha looking at, baby?” His cock was softening, but you felt it twitch from narcissistic delight.

You shook your head to clear your mind, dipped your hands in the pool, then ran your damp fingers through his hair. He instantly relaxed into your touch, sighing contentedly. “I told you it’s refreshing.” 

“And you were fucking right. Maybe I should use the pool more – it’s not like anyone is stupid enough to attack me in my own palace.” Strong, scarred arms wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed you tightly against him. Doflamingo hummed happily, then released you and nodded towards the couch. A grin never left his face and his shaded eyes never left yours. “Be nice and grab our drinks, then get right back here. Our private pool party isn’t over.”

[saved-fanfiction]

Oh no, it's Ghostface! HANMA S.

Synopsis: When you ask your boyfriend what he wants for his birthday, he tells you that it's a secret. How is it his birthday but you're the one getting surprised? You don't question his intentions and proceed with your day at work. Little did you know the kind of tricks Hanma had up his sleeve.

word count: 3,7k

pairing: hanma x fem! reader

content warning: dark content, slightly cnc (read at your own risk), slight breath play, gvn k!nk, fear play, rough oral sex (m! receiving), lots of drool, a bit of mindbreak?

The sound of heels clicking on the floor fills the hallway as you approach your apartment door. It had been a long, exhausting day, yet a smile still manages to find its way onto your face as you remember the date. October has never been your favorite month, you can’t exactly pinpoint the reason why but you’re always filled with sadness as the colder season approaches. 

Probably seasonal depression, who knows?

Inserting the key, you push the door open nothing but darkness greets you. It’s rare for the apartment to be engulfed in such suffocating gloom, especially knowing that your boyfriend preferred a dimly lit space. Still, you brush it off, proceeding to remove your knee high boots and place them on the shoe rack.

“Shuji?” you call out for your boyfriend, eyes trying to make out any details but it’s difficult. So you reach for the switch and flip it. Still nothing.

Did the power go out? 

It’s a pretty expensive apartment complex, you highly doubt that the power goes out and Hanma does nothing about it. So you try again, and again and–still nothing but darkness. 

“Shuuu,” you drag the first syllable of his name on your tongue, grabbing your phone to turn on the flashlight. Since it was his birthday, you had half expected him to stay home, but then again he was Kisaki’s right hand and it wasn’t rare for him to receive phone calls from the shorter man asking him to take care of something for him.

However, your body feels a little tense. Your shared apartment with your boyfriend was rather spacious, and there were many spots you disliked walking by during the night because of how hidden they were. You proceed down the hallway with your phone’s flashlight illuminating the path in front of you, sighing deeply when you notice that all of the rooms’ doors were closed and none of the curtains had been opened all day. 

You’re about to point your flashlight towards your bedroom door when you hear something to your left and freeze.

No way. There was no way for it to be Hanma. His shoes were gone, so were his car keys–but this area had a lot of security and no one would be able to walk in unless they had special access to the main lobby. There were no signs of forced entry and every single window was closed–your brain is running a thousand miles a second, and you’re too busy trying to make sense of the noise that you had just heard to react fast. Before you could point your flashlight properly towards that one corner, you swipe your thumb across your screen and click on ‘contacts’.

Suddenly, you’re pinned to the wall with such force that it knocks the wind out of your chest and a gloved hand covers your mouth in an attempt to muffle the scream that rips out of you. You’re dizzy–you’re breathing fast and trying to make sense of what’s happening around you. With teary eyes, you look up and your heart drops in your stomach. A shiny, terrifying ghostface mask is right in front of you and whoever’s wearing it is breathing hard. They notice your trembling lip, the tears coating your lash line and tilt their head to the side. 

Trembling, you think they haven’t noticed the phone in your hand despite the flashlight being the only source of light. Your thumb messily swipes across the screen and finds Shuji’s contact at the top of the list. Press call. 

The sound of a familiar ring tone fills the apartment, your eyebrows furrow in both confusion and fear. Was he here? Maybe he was hurt and needed your help and–

But the longer the phone rang, the deeper it sank that the sound was way close to you. Way too close. 

Your breath hitches as you watch the tall masked man reach into his left pocket. A gloved hand grabs the familiar phone and your name appears on the screen. Before picking up the phone, he pushes your hand up until you’re forced to press the device to your ear and you watch as he mirrors your actions.

“So, you got a boyfriend?” The unmistakable, chilling voice sends shivers down your spine. You recognize the unsettling calmness to it and all your body can do is melt against the wall as your knees buckle. But the tall man isn’t having any of it, and he pins you even harder against the wall. His gloved hand goes from your mouth down to your neck, and the grip is all too familiar that you can’t help but let out a strangled moan. 

Despite the fear gripping your bones, you part your quivering lips to reply.

“Why… Do you want to ask me out on a date?” Your voice comes out small and unsteady, and you sniffle, desperately blinking back tears. A low chuckle escapes the man’s lips as he feels your harsh swallow beneath the grip of his hand.

“Maybe… Do you have a boyfriend?” 

Before you could even manage a reply, you feel him push his knee between your thighs and a loud gasp escapes your lips. “I–”

“Do you?” The emphasis in his voice combined with his knee rubbing against your clothed pussy leaves you breathless. You can’t give a proper reply, not with your head tipped back in pleasure and your hips bucking up when he grazes your aching clit. Sensing that you were enjoying yourself, your boyfriend pulls away his knee and you’re immediately whining at the loss. 

“Shuji–” you can’t see his face or what kind of expression is behind the mask, but you would hope that your desperation moves something in him. However, you forget that your boyfriend is a ruthless criminal, someone with years of expertise in physical and psychological torture. And he makes sure to put it to good use. 

A pained moan escapes you when you’re being roughly pushed off the wall, only for your chest and cheek to get pinned to the cold, hard surface. Your phone falls to the ground and Hanma grabs both of your wrists, pinning them behind your back. You feel powerless as he pushes up the brown leather skirt you were wearing, hissing when he sees that you were wearing the smallest pair of underwear beneath. 

“Did ya prepare for this, doll? Knew I was gonna fuck ya senseless the moment you walked in–” he momentarily breaks character, forgetting the role he’s supposed to be playing and you feel your heart and pussy swell. Being able to distract a man like Hanma was something you took pride in. You instinctively push back against him, brushing your ass against his crotch and hear yet another loud hiss from the man.

“Fucking slut.” The plastic part of the mask feels chilling and unsettlingly hard against your ear as filth spews out of his mouth. Muffled and low, the sound of his voice alone is enough to have your mind reeling at all the things he will say.

“Answer me.” You don’t expect something hard to press against your clothed pussy so soon, your jaw drops at the cold feeling as you struggle to get away from it.

“Shuji!” you cry out for the man, but to no avail.

“Shuji,” he says in a mocking tone, pressing the item harder against your pussy as he grabs your wrists in place. “How fucking pathetic, you’ve already gone dumb just from something rubbing against your pussy?” His voice drips with dark amusement. Hanma knows how to have fun with you, sex with him is never boring simply because the way that his brain works was fascinating–but you had always wondered if you could get a glimpse of a darker side of him. 

However, up until today, he always rejected the idea. Primarily due to the fact that you were his girlfriend, someone whom he cherished with all of his cold and sheltered heart and a person whom he liked to keep away from his business. To the world, he is Hanma–a ruthless killer with a criminal background that could paralyze anyone with fear but to you, he was Shuji. Your sweet, loving boyfriend. 

Your loving boyfriend who always fucked you when he came back from a mission with blood painting his face, your sweet and doting boyfriend who let you ride his face because you found him so hot when there were a few cuts and bruises there. You suggest that he integrates his dangerous side during sex and he refuses, but the idea lingers at the forefront of his mind the longer he remembers the pout sitting on your lips and how eager you seemed with everything. 

So, the first step was to buy a ghostface mask. 

And the second was to fuck you while he wears it. 

“Yes,” you answer, barely catching your breath. “I-I prepared.”

“Oh yeah?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “You wanted me to fuck you?”

“It’s y-your birthday,” your breath hitches when the cold material presses harder against your clit, and Hanma watches as you subconsciously move back and forth against it with a wide grin. 

“Fucking hell, look at you. Do you know what you’re fucking yourself on, slut?”

You whimper, a sign of confusion and Hanma offers an amused chuckle before pressing the mask against your ear.

“My gun.” 

He sees your eyes widening and laughs loudly when you don’t pull away or flinch. Instead, you move your hips back and forth–slow and sloppy, face burning with shame. This had been a fantasy of yours–you’re starting to believe that Hanma has wanted to do this just as much as you did. 

“Didn’t know you wanted it this bad,” he’s obviously caught off guard by how needy you are, but it doesn’t stop him from pressing harder and nudging your clit in ways that have your eyes roll to the back of your head. He watches as shame leaves your body and it’s replaced by pure lust as you chase your high. You’re panting, eyes screwed shut and lips parted to let out the sweetest moans. 

“Yeah just like that–” you can feel his hard on pressing against your backside, but you’re far too distracted to care. “Use my gun to get off. Good girl–my pretty slut.” 

Pleasure courses through your veins like hot lava, it blinds you momentarily and shuts down your brain as you desperately chase your orgasm. You’re certain that the sentences you were blabbering made no sense, you could hear Hanma speaking to you and could make out that he was mocking you by saying “Oh yeah?” “Oh baby, poor you.” but none of it mattered when you were so close to your release. Your thighs tremble, your voice a pitch higher and there’s drool dripping down the side of your mouth. The knot in your stomach feels hot and tightens with each desperate grind against the gun. You’re about to cum, you’re so fucking close–

A pained cry leaves your lips when Hanma pulls the gun away, heartless and cold. 

“Why?! Why–” you sob before flinching when he lets go of your wrists to spank you harshly.

“Are you fucking questioning me?” He grips your hair harshly, pulling your head back and craning your neck at an uncomfortable angle. “You don’t fucking deserve to cum.”

“But–but Shuji–” still gripping your hair, Hanma pushes you down until you’re on your knees and you instinctively turn around until you’re eye level with his crotch. Eager and blinded with lust, your hands reach for his belt and start to unbuckle it but Hanma grips your hair tighter and you gasp at the pain.

“Didn’t say you could touch it yet, did I?” Now that you were on your knees for him, Hanma could confidently say that this was the hottest sight ever. Your makeup was smudged, mascara running down your cheeks and your eyes were blown out with lust. He should’ve done it sooner. 

“Please,” you lean forward, chin resting on his hard on and your hands rest on his ass. “Please,” you drag your nose against the fabric of his pants, before pressing a gentle kiss to his clothed dick. “I can make you feel good, Mr. Ghostface.”

Hanma lets out a muffled “fuck,” before pushing your face against his dick and you take it as a sign to get to work. You make quick work of his belt and pants before pulling down his boxers and watch as his cock springs free. You don’t waste a single second before wrapping your hand around the shaft, gripping it enough to have the man’s breath hitching. His cock was a work of art, and you always found yourself enjoying oral sex with Hanma mainly because you enjoyed having his cock in your mouth. So you kiss the balls, dragging your tongue along the shaft and don’t give the man a warning before letting your mouth engulf the tip. It’s a small move, but it makes the masked man grip your hair tightly and the silence is now replaced by the much anticipated dirty talk. 

“Fuck, do I love when you use your mouth like that,” he sounds so fucked out, drowning in pleasure that you can’t help but let out a moan yourself. The vibrations send shivers down Shuji’s spine and he is quick to remind you to take the whole thing.

“Suck.” Within a few moments, there is spit and drool everywhere. Your hand strokes the parts you can’t reach, and you pull away to spit on the tip whenever you can before bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Hanma, however, is still not satisfied. 

“You’re gonna take the whole thing.” Your eyes widen at his statement, and you pull away to complain. 

“But Shuji–” your heart stops when you feel something cold press against your forehead. 

“Come on, doll.” You look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and through teary lashes. “Don’t look away.” 

Your hands tremble as they settle on his thighs for support and you’re glad he doesn’t ask you to put them behind your back. Inhaling deeply, you look up at the man as you start to swallow his dick–inch after inch, the deeper he goes, the harder it is to keep your eyes open or stop yourself from gagging. And when you do and try to pull away, Hanma pushes the gun against your forehead. Finally, you manage to fit all of him down your throat and you’re proud to hear the muffled groan that leaves Hanma’s lips. You could’ve sworn that you saw his knees buckle as well, but you can’t afford to focus on anything else with his cock down your throat.

“Good fucking girl, oh fuuuuck,” he lets out a laugh when you pull away to breathe, coughing and trying to catch your breath before grabbing his cock again. “Oh yeah, someone’s desp–fuck, desperate.” you hum in response, taking him down your throat before repeating the same movement over and over again. Until Hanma’s hips buck into your face and he presses your nose against his pubic hair. You cough and gag, drool spilling down your jaw. You’re smacking his thigh, reminding him that you needed air but to no avail. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head and you swear dark dots are starting to form. You were going to pass out, you can’t breathe–

It’s not until your fingers aren’t digging into the skin of his thighs that Hanma lets go of you. He watches as you fall to the ground, a hand to your chest as you try to catch your breath and messily wipe the drool on your chin. 

“Up.” He speaks, and your body responds to his command as if it were second nature. You feel dizzy, and the longer Shuji wears the mask, the more difficult it is to remember who’s behind the mask. A gloved hand grabs your jaw, pulling you close until the lips of the mask are brushing against your own. 

“Tell me,” he says lowly, his other hand traveling down to grab your ass. “How much do you want me to fuck you?” 

“So-so much,” you admit, broken. You can no longer think straight or try to mask the lust. Your body craves Hanma like the moon needs the stars, you’ve never been teased like this–so heartlessly, without being able to look into his golden eyes for comfort and a way to ground yourself. There was no reminder that it was your boyfriend, the one who gives you the softest smiles and whose eyes meet yours when you’re about to cum. Behind this mask was a different man, and you were starting to lose your grip on reality. 

The gloved hand goes from your jaw to your cheek, and you let out a small noise when you feel him wiping something. 

Tears. 

Hanma is well aware of his sick and twisted desires, but watching you cry is on another level. It makes his cock twitch and his heart beats loudly against his ribcage.

“Beg me.” 

“Please.” You ask, desperately. 

“Again.” 

“Please fuck me–please, Shuj–please.” You start to blabber, lips quivering and fat tears streaming down your face. Hanma finally breaks. 

You’re caught off guard as he throws you over his shoulder, letting out a startled squeak when he forcefully pushes the door open to your shared bedroom. He doesn’t give you time to get used to your surroundings as throws you on the bed before grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you down to the edge of the bed. It’s still dark in the apartment, and Hanma doesn’t have enough time to turn the power back on, so he reaches for the curtains and pulls them open so that the only source of light was the street lamp outside. 

He approaches the bed again, hurried and impatient to fuck you stupid. Before he can reach for your panties, your hand goes to his ghostface mask and he doesn’t have it in him to stop you from taking it off of him. 

Finally, you can see his face. He was all sweaty, flushed cheeks and a few hair strands sticking to his forehead not to mention–his pupils were blown out with lust. This was your Shuji, your boyfriend–the ghostface mask was hot, but you preferred this side of your boyfriend. You waste no time to bring him closer to you, crashing your lips against his in a messy, tongues dancing and spit swapping kiss. It’s anything but romantic, your bodies consumed with an animalistic kind of lust for one another. Instead of taking off your panties, Hanma rips them off of your body and muffles your complaining noises with his lips once again.

“I’ll buy you new ones.” Is all he says before pushing your knees open. Your pussy is glistening with arousal, all puffy and swollen from not being touched enough and Hanma leans down to spit on it and give your clit a wet kiss.

“Fuck–” your close your eyes at the feeling, suddenly growing aware of all of the layers on your body that needed to come off. But you didn’t have time for that, and neither did Hanma. So, he pushes up your turtleneck shirt and watches as your boobs spill out. Holding the fabric, your boyfriend proceeds to push your knees to your chest line up the tip of his cock with your entrance.

He lets himself in, slowly and taking in the way your jaw goes slack and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. You had been craving this, you were practically begging for his cock and watching you unravel just from him pressing inside made it nearly impossible for Hanma to hold back.

“Come here,” he leans down to kiss your lips, sloppy and wet as he starts to move his hips. His cock slides in and out of your tight pussy, leaving creamy rings at the base that has Hanma cursing under his breath. Meanwhile, your head is thrown back and you don’t seem to notice or feel anything but the way that his cock felt against your warm walls. 

“Thought of giving me the best birthday gift–fuck, you are my birthday gift,” the tall man starts to blabber, clearly lost in the pleasure and in the feeling of your tight pussy. “This pussy is the best gift I could’ve asked for–” he bites down on your bottom lip, finally getting you to whine in response. Your hands grip his shoulders when he starts to pick up his pace, eyes widening when his tip starts to press against that one spot.

“Yes right there–oh fuck, right there!”

“I got you.” your legs are thrown over his shoulder and a hand wraps around your neck as he maintains his pace, hips remaining in the same angle that has you seeing stars. It’s not until you’re cumming around his cock, crying and shaking, that Hanma can finally lose himself and fuck you hard. He fucks you until you’re crying for him to slow down, watching as the creamy ring that forms at the base is smeared all over his pubic hair and your hand is pushing at his stomach.

“I can’t–I can’t–”

“Take it,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fucking pussy is milking me dry–holy shit.” he curses as he buries his face in your neck, feeling you squeeze around him as you orgasm again. The feeling of your tight pussy along with your nails digging into his back has the man shooting his cum inside after a couple of strokes.

You both lay there in silence for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breath and party because Hanma knows you need this skin on skin moment. This wasn’t a moment where he could wipe you down, kiss you goodnight and go to sleep–he needed to be present.

“You okay, pretty girl?”

“Hold me,” hearing the desperation in your voice, Hanma lowers your legs and brings you closer to him. He kisses your cheeks, forehead and then your nose. There are tears in your eyes still, but the eye contact with him helps ground you. The love and warmth in them remind you that it’s him, your boyfriend and not Ghostface who had fucked your face senseless. 

“Happy birthday, Shu,” you say as you grab his face and the tall man can’t help but chuckle.

“Happy birthday to me.”

2024 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

[saved-fanfiction]

Out of control

trafalgar law x reader

contents: just law being the biggest tease, suggestive, but no smut, established relationship, everything that happens in consentual

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, law feels up reader, a lot of teasing from law in general - reader is technically gender neutral (ie. no use of pronouns), but has a vagina

a/n: this was originally supposed to be more of a headcanons type of thing, but i kind of suck at writing those, so i've been fighting with it in my drafts for a week before deciding to just make it a one shot. Except it's not a one shot, and i was so focused on the build up that i didn't even get to the actual smut so... part 2 hopefully soon? Dividers made by me. Happy reading, and enjoy <3

word count: 1.761

The steady hum of the Polar Tang’s engine accompanies you as you make your way down one of the ship’s corridors. The sound being only punctuated by your soft steps echoing along the walls. You love the sound, even though it’s very monotone. There’s something calming about it that gives the metal submarine a very welcoming vibe. Once you get over the initial feeling of claustrophobia, that is. You remember the sensation of being trapped when you had first stepped foot onto the ship, hating that the icy, crushing ocean was just beyond those walls, enclosing you from all sides.

But the tough adjustment period was well worth it, as you soon discovered. You had never in your life slept as soundly and deeply as you did on the submarine, the faint drone of the ship lulling you to sleep every night. Together with the fact that you never wake up from harsh sunlight streaming through the windows, it creates the perfect environment to rest.

Plus, sharing a comfy bed with your boyfriend doesn’t hurt either, you think as you round the corner to his office.

“Hey Law, I was supposed to give you these earlier, I only just remembered.” Walking into the room, you don’t look up from the bundle of papers in your hands at first, his silence not out of the ordinary. What you had found intimidating at first, you now chalk up to a certain amount of social awkwardness.

But when you meet his eyes, you’re taken aback by the look on his face. You know that look. He has that ever so subtle smirk and dangerous glint in his eyes, making him seem like he’s about to pounce on you. Or maybe it’s just the lack of his usual scowl. Either way, it automatically makes the space between your legs burn hot in a way you’ve come to associate only with him.

Law’s hat is on the table, leaving his messy hair on full display, and it looks ruffled in that endearing way you like. His casual black shirt brings out his hair colour even more, and the neckline is just low enough to show his collar bones and the top of his chest tattoo. The sleeves, which are rolled up to his elbows, give you a perfect view of his toned forearms. And your eyes can’t help tracing the markings adorning them all the way down to his hands.

“E- everything ok?” You try to sound casual, like you haven’t noticed anything, giving him a light, innocent smile. But you already know the odds are not in your favour. You don’t stand a chance, already struggling not to ogle him too plainly.

“Everything’s ok.” He simply answers, the way his eyes narrow a little telling you he’s onto you. But he doesn’t address it, loving to toy with you. “Are those the inventory lists? It’s about time we plan out next restock, I assume.”

“Ehm- yes! We’ve already assessed our current food reserve and made a general list for things to stock up on. Of course, we always end up adding things last minute, so it’s not the final one.” You ramble on, blinking a little to clear your head and force yourself to look away from your boyfriend’s hands. Your gaze instead meets his, which you immediately regret. He’s wearing his reading glasses, and the way they frame his face paired with the darker skin around his eyes makes your knees a little weak. He has that smart, authoritative air around him, and you’re a little ashamed of how much you like it.

He obviously notices that, too, having taken note long ago of the way your eyes always stray to his hands when he gets you riled up. But still, he won’t break the tension, enjoying the uncertain look on your face. He loves making you nervous. Forcing you to lose your composure.

“Ok.” And after a short pause, “You can leave them on my desk.” As you had made no sign of stepping closer.

“Oh, yes of course.” Only now remembering you had stopped in your tracks a few steps from where he is sitting. You walk up to stand next to him, trying to find a good spot to place the papers without disorganizing all the stuff already cluttering up the space.

Law doesn’t let a lot of people touch his workspace. He doesn’t trust that others won’t disturb the carefully organised mess that only he can perfectly navigate. But he doesn’t help you clear a spot like he usually would. In fact, he’s not even looking at his desk, his eyes still fixed on you with that sly expression on his face.

You don’t notice at first, thankful to focus your hands and mind on something other than the way Law is affecting them. However, your relief is short-lived when you feel his hand gently snake around the back of your thigh, just above your knee. You try to ignore it, but your breath hitches when he keeps moving it, slowly running it further up the inside of your leg.

“Uhm, Law?” You can’t hold back the shakiness in your voice now, knowing he must be reeling in the way you so desperately try to cling to your composure.

“Hm?” Is all he says, voice sounding far too innocent for the situation, but his hand doesn’t stop.

“Uhm- I uhh.” You don’t dare glance at your boyfriend. “Where did you want them?”

“Just anywhere is fine, thank you.” His taunting is apparent only in the way his voice is way too casual for what he’s doing. He gives you a slight squeeze, hand almost at its destination between your legs.

“I’ll just put them wherever then.” You try to quickly end the exchange and leave, but before you can even place down the papers, Law’s hand reaches its target. The bump of his thumb pressing against your entrance, while his index pushes up against your clit. It makes you give an involuntary flinch at the delicious prickling feeling running up your body, feeling goosebumps forming under your boiler suit.

Your head whips around to glare at him, but he holds your gaze, his teasing smirk now a little more pronounced. The way his deep grey eyes pierce you from over the rim of his glasses, paired with a taunting raise of his eyebrow instantly has you blushing. His hand stays where it is.

“Is something the matter?” He simply can’t stop. There’s a deep, dark part of him that relishes in the feeling he gets from putting you in a helpless position. And it’s not because he doesn’t like you, on the contrary. He loves you. You are his partner, his favourite person in the world, the only one he wants, now and forever. And that’s precisely why he needs to knock you off the pedestal he alone has placed you on.

Law is heavily traumatized. Since childhood, he has been a victim of unbearable circumstances out of his influence, completely alone, his survival hinging only on his ability to show no weakness. As a result, Law’s biggest fear is being at the mercy of others, feeling vulnerable. He started to develop cruel and violent tendencies to cope, desperate to no longer live in fear, to stop being prey. Thinking, in his reckless scramble for control, that becoming the hunter is the only option.

Obviously, Law has changed since then, no longer walking into the headquarters of renowned criminals with grenades strapped to his chest. He learned to plan ahead, becoming more strategic and less erratic in his approach. And he also learned that strength lies in numbers more than ruthlessness. But a small part of him will always stay a terrified child whose only tactic is to attack at the first sign of danger.

And you have an unfortunate way of triggering that side of him.

“Law, you know I have work to do.” You frown, trying to hide how much he’s getting to you. A part of you wishes he would simply take you here and now, but you know he won’t. You learned long ago that Law likes to play with his food before eating it.

“I know you do. Is there something preventing you from attending to your duties?” That bastard.

Though he doesn’t show it, Law is terrified of the way you make him feel, of the way he completely forgets himself when you’re around. A part of him craves touching you, wanting you in his arms all night, closely watching your face while you’re taking what he’s giving you. To love you, fully, and to be loved back in the same way. But he simply doesn't believe it could happen to him, so used to neglecting his emotional needs he doesn’t know how to ask for love, sometimes forgetting he even needs it.

So, he has learned to take it. The index finger still applying pressure on your clit starts to slowly move back and forth. You flinch again, a slight moan escaping you this time.

You know you can’t win this. Not while he’s already thrown you off guard. Not while his hand is between your legs like it’s the most normal thing in the world, while you’re struggling to regain your composure.

“Uhh, no, there isn’t.” You respond, glad your voice is somewhat normal at least, since your cheeks are burning. “Sorry, captain, I’ll return to work now.” It takes everything in you to turn around and leave. He was making you feel so needy, almost wanting to give in to his teasing just to have him touch you a little longer.

Law raises his eyebrows again, this time in mild surprise. You have never managed to walk away like this, usually letting him touch you a little longer until you needed more, quickly starting to beg when he refuses to go further and instead sends you back to work. He never thought you would show such self-restraint, forcing yourself to leave despite almost shaking from the effort. And he loves it.

Unbeknownst to you, you have now given Law a new objective: to see how far he can push you before you finally crack, throwing yourself at him, pleading with him to take you as if your life depends on it. Oh, this is going to be very fun.

“See you at dinner.” He teases, but you don’t respond, too focused on leaving with what little dignity you still have and already coming up with a plan to get your revenge.

Thx so much for reading! :D (This is my fic, don't repost! Reblogs are always appreciated <3)

[saved-fanfiction]

The Grand Line's Bounty List

Have to now split the Masterlist into multiple posts now because of the amount of links.

HEART PIRATES, KID PIRATES, WHITEBEARD PIRATES, BIG MOM PIRATES, DONQUIXOTE FAMILY

Law The Moment They Started Seeing You Differently Seeing You Differently Part Two An Angry Confession You Need Liquid Courage To Act Lazy Mornings With You Comforting Him On A Bad Day You Get Pregnant After A One Night Stand You Call Them A Term Of Endearment They Touch Your Cold Hands/Feet At Night They Hurt You While Controlled The Little Things They Love With You Confronting Your Feelings After Being Silently In Love Prompt: Accidental Kiss You're There To Ease His Pain They Have A Nightmare You Marry Someone Else You Say Their Name In Your Sleep The First Time They Hear You Sing Prompt: Jealousy Kiss w/Do You Have Any Idea How Much I Want To Kiss You Right Now? You Try To Hide Illness From Him When You Fall Unconscious When You Unexpectedly Appear In The Paper Prompt: "No! Don't Give Me Those Puppy-Dog Eyes!" Valentines Event: Single Red Rose Valentines Event: Cupid's Arrow When You Don't Kiss Them Back

Kid The First Time They Hear You Sing You Call Them A Term Of Endearment They Touch Your Cold Hands/Feet At Night The Moment They Started Seeing You Differently The Little Things They Love With You You're Shorter Than Him Their Favourite Moments To Kiss You The Have A Nightmare You Marry Someone Else You're His Opposite Prompt: Jealousy Kiss w/Do You Have Any Idea How Much I Want To Kiss You Right Now? Prompt: Accidentally Saying 'I Love You' They Hurt You While Controlled Prompt: Desperate Kiss

Killer He Has A Crush On A Strawhat! Reader The Little Things They Love With You You Say Their Name In Your Sleep When You Fall Unconscious Valentines Event: True Loves Kiss

Ace Lazy Mornings With You You Call Them A Term Of Endearment You're Serious Until You See Something Cute They Hurt You While Controlled The Have A Nightmare You Marry Someone Else They Finally See You Jealous The First Time They Hear You Sing The Crew Interfere To Get You Together Prompt: Jealousy Kiss w/Do You Have Any Idea How Much I Want To Kiss You Right Now? Prompt: Taking The Hit For Them Prompt: Secretly Dating w/Desperate Kiss Prompt: Fake Dating (Modern!Au) When You Fall Unconscious He Gets Turned Into A Younger Version Of Himself When You Don't Kiss Them Back

Marco You Call Them A Term Of Endearment Lazy Mornings With You They Finally See You Jealous The First Time They Hear You Sing When You Fall Unconscious

Katakuri The Have A Nightmare You Marry Someone Else Valentines Event: Love Potion

Rosinante/Corazon They Catch You In Their Clothes Valentines Event: Love Potion

Doflamingo Immune To Your Charms, Ch.2, Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10 Ch.11 Ch.12 Ch.13 Ch.14 Ch.15 Ch.16 Valentines Event: True Love's Kiss When You Don't Kiss Them Back

Other Masterlists:

Strawhats

Red Hair Pirates, Cross Guild, Marines, Revolutionary Army

[saved-fanfiction]

okay so walk with me here

i cant believe it but im thinking about writing a fic where the redhaired pirates have a party with the whitebeard homies and uhhhhh orgy. just like a 100 people orgy in the middle of the ocean on the deck of the Red Force.

i was thinking mainly ace x reader with ace letting people have a turn with you (you're into it ofc). Specifically I'm imagining a reader that's totally in love with ace but has always secretly had the hots for shanks after meeting him a while back and this party being the perfect chance to let it out.

It just devolves into being passed around between Ace, Shanks, Izou, and a few others and UHHHH

God im going to hell but imagine Ace finally catching on to the hints Shanks has been throwing down and he ends up taking actual cock inside him- and so big for his first time too. Currently you're being fucked from behind by Izou, who's grip on your shoulder and cock in your pussy was the only thing that kept you upright.

You're face to face with your drooling, whimpering boyfriend, eyes squinting, going wide, then pinching shut because fuck he can't take it- how did you take Shanks' cock so easily moments before? Ace's cheeks were so dark and flushed it was hard to make out the freckles near his nose.

Ace scrambled for purchase on the rope, blubbering the entire time Izou leaving lipstick stains down your neck as his manicured nails dug into your thighs,

Just Ace and you fascinated at seeing the other in pleasure

bro i gotta stop smoking it makes me come up with shit that I nEED to turn into a fic one day

[saved-fanfiction]

Ties That Bind (2)

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

SFW

Summary: You have spent your entire life preparing to meet your soulmate. Even with the words inked on your skin, you could never have imagined how badly your other half would hurt you, nor how much you'd want him anyway. Content: GN!Reader, Angst, Soulmate AU, Imprisonment, Medieval AU, Yearning, Unwanted Soulmates, Eventual Happy Ending, Starvation, Isolation Word Count: 4.1k

You think it might have been a month. You have no way to tell other than the meals that are brought to your cell, and you know that those are inconsistent. You thought you had just truly lost track of time until one delivery was accompanied by apologies for the long wait and warning for an even longer one.

“Wartime rationing, you understand,” the soldier had said. And you do. A kingdom would never prioritize feeding its prisoners over its free people, let alone a prisoner of war. You’re at the bottom of every list, and your current bearings truly reflect that. You get a meager meal of rye bread and thick porridge semi-regularly, with some water to accompany it. Once, on a particularly good day, the porridge was replaced with a rabbit stew and the water with beer. It was one of the worst drinks you had ever tasted, but it almost made you feel full for once. On another occasion you were snuck a small bruised apple by one of the soldiers on watch. You don’t know what compelled him to do it, but the sweetness on your tongue almost made you weep.

The Commander’s visits have continued on a semi-regular basis. Not every day, but many of them. Enough that you wanted to ask him what the hell was keeping him off of the battlefield, how he had time to come mock a prisoner when there was a war to be won (or lost, hopefully). But you maintained your silence, and he kept coming. Never as kind or as warm as the first night, of course. Even the begrudging respect of the first day seems distant. He doesn’t speak much, lacking a conversation partner, but he loves to come and stare. You feel like you’re being stripped down to the bone, pulled apart and judged on a scale you couldn’t possibly begin to understand.

One visit makes things a little more clear. “They’re going to kill you if you don’t have anything useful to say, you know.” It’s almost cute, the concern on his face.

It quickly melts when you snort at the idea. So he wants you to talk? Give up your comrades to save your own skin? Ridiculous. If you were the kind of person to do that, they wouldn’t have promoted you. You wouldn’t have killed in the name of a kingdom that you had such little loyalty for.

“You don’t care if you die?” He sounds upset, which is even funnier than the thought that you would care. A month ago he wanted to kill you himself, and now that you’re content to let such a thing happen he’s displeased? Ridiculous. Maybe he’s just upset he won’t be able to do it himself, or that his work saving you will go to waste. Maybe he just doesn’t want to see a fellow soldier die in such a dishonorable way. Executions have never sat well with you either, after all. There’s not much glory to be found dying on the battlefield, but there’s none to be had dying on a stage.

You shake your head at him, shrugging once again. He scoffs at you, continuing. “It doesn’t even have to be particularly important. I’ll take anything.”

Oh, he really is invested in the puzzle you’ve become, isn’t he? You almost feel guilty, knowing he’s never going to solve it. Never going to figure out what pulls him to you, never going to understand why the sight of you behind bars pulls at him. Maybe you’ll haunt him the rest of his life anyway, despite your best efforts. You put your palms up, an attempt to calm him a bit. You tap your lips before you press your finger to them, indicating your lack of communication with him is going to be a permanent issue. He growls, and you can’t tell if it’s directed at you or just general frustration. He storms out, his boots pounding against the rough stone beneath him.

He’s back the next day, and the day after that, but he doesn’t ask you again.

He always makes a snarky comment or two, dripping with disdain, but he hardly goes beyond that. Maybe he feels it isn’t right to kick you while you're down, or maybe he feels a bit of guilt over the clear strain your injuries have brought. Today is the same as any other.

"Still keeping up the silent act?" His tone is neutral, but his eyes betray him. Every time he enters this room, he's a little more upset, a little more unsettled. He doesn't understand why he's so invested in you. You can see slight bags under his eyes; your attempts to spare him are making him lose sleep. You can't bring yourself to feel much sympathy. He has no idea the amount of pain you're saving him from.

You shake your head, giving him the same thin smile you’ve given him every time he’s come to see you. You can’t bring yourself to outright ignore him after the kindness he’s shown you, but you remain steadfast in your goal. You will die before he hears a word from you. 

He lets out a frustrated growl, and you can see his nails digging into his hand. You’re wearing on his patience. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself, but it shakes on his exhale. His teeth are pressing together, turning his usually impassive expression into a grimace. “You really aren’t making this easy.”

There’s a fire under the words, smoldering rage building at your rejection. You wonder why he’s trying so hard; is his soul crying out for yours? Does your silence hurt him nearly as badly as his words hurt you? Is he normally this determined with their prisoners, or is he frustrated at his pull to you?

Your hands brush against your ribs, where you know your words lie. They seem to warm a little whenever he speaks, your body begging you to continue walking fate’s path, to speak your words, whatever they are. But you are determined to keep his body blank, scarred only by the battles he seems to adore.

His eyes catch the movement, lingering for a moment. He seems to soften for a moment, something almost resembling concern flashing through his eyes before the annoyance returns. “Stop touching your wounds. It makes it worse.” His tone is stern. A command from a man so accustomed to giving them.

It sets your teeth on edge, receiving commands from an enemy soldier. Especially the one who did this to you. Wasn’t this the point? To hurt you? No matter his kindness after, he still inflicted the wound. Who is he to tell you how to handle it?

Your hunger, lack of sleep, and screaming pain from your wounds cloud your better judgment, and you let pettiness take over as you scrape your nails down your bandages. Not enough to make any real significance in your pain, just a drop in the bucket that’s been filling with your agony since you arrived. 

He winces as he watches, grimacing slightly. “You’re insufferable, General. Hurt yourself all you want, far be it from me to stop you.” There’s far more bite to his words than his previous complaints, and as he storms off, you wonder if this was his breaking point, and you won’t see the man again, not until your final day as he watches from the audience as your life is snuffed out.

He doesn’t come back the next day, or the day after that. You try to ignore how that stings. Despite how badly you wanted him to leave, his visits were the only break from the monotonous routine you're under, and the only time anybody spoke to you. Without him, you hardly feel human.

They forget to bring you food at least once, you think. You can’t say for sure, since you don’t have sunlight to track the days by, but the growling in your stomach is far worse than usual. Was the Commander ensuring you were fed? Surely not. Maybe they were treating you better when you had his attention, and now that the pressure has left the staff is more likely to let things fall through the cracks. 

It is the intense growling of your stomach that leads to worried whispers among the guards outside, which eventually cultivates in one of them disappearing for a few minutes and coming back with a bowl of something steaming hot. His hands shake as he holds the keys to your cell as the others keep their head on a swivel.

Are they…breaking the rules for you?

When he enters the cell, he places the food down quickly, not daring to look you in the eye. Another soldier slips him a waterskin, which he quickly slides to you, still without looking up. Before you can even open your mouth to speak, he’s already skittering out, taking his position as though nothing happened.

You slowly pick up the bowl, inspecting it. You expect some small scraps, like the apple you were given last week. Instead you find a nice, hearty stew, made with what you think is beef. You take a small sip of the broth, and the flavor explodes in your mouth. A lovely savory flavor hits you. You swear you can taste a hint of wine. This isn’t common fare for a prisoner. Is this…their food? Did one of these men give up their own lunch for the day to ensure you were fed?

No, this is too good for a common footsoldier. This is something that might be given to an officer, or even a noble. Whose food did they steal to give to you? How much are they risking here?

You’re overwhelmed by a lot of feelings. Gratitude, first and foremost. But then confusion: why couldn’t they have just gone to the kitchen? Why the stealth, the subterfuge? That means they must be unable to provide for you through the usual channels, and, more importantly, that they’d be punished for this simple act of kindness. The kitchen hasn’t forgotten you, nor has the rationing gotten so bad they’re depriving those of you at the bottom of the food chain. This was an order. Someone has demanded your starvation.

You close your eyes and wonder. You immediately dismiss the Commander as a suspect. He’s shown you too much kindness to do such a thing, surely. Maybe that’s your soul bond talking, overriding your common sense, but something deep inside of you simply doesn’t want to doubt him. Perhaps whoever told him they wanted information? Maybe the King himself, frustrated at the idea of spending resources on a prisoner not even from his own nation?

You’ll have a lot of time to ponder that later, you reassure yourself. For now you try to savor every bite of your stew, letting the flavors dance on your tongue. You haven’t enjoyed something like this for a long time. Even before your imprisonment. The last time you can remember something this flavorful was the banquet they threw before your most recent deployment. It had been thrown in your honor, for loyal service, but it was more of an excuse for the nobles to party. That hadn’t mattered much. In spite of the dozen marriage proposals you had to fend off from the courtiers and second and third sons and daughters of some of the nobility, you had a great time. It was the last time you had seen your parents, as they told you how proud they were of you. The last time you saw many of your friends before you were sent to different posts, different fronts. You know a handful of them were slain after, in an ambush along the border a few weeks after you had all toasted to a victory you all knew you might not see.

You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears begin to fall in your now empty bowl, washing away the last traces of seasoning from the wood. Had you allowed yourself to grieve all that you’ve lost, all that you’re going to lose? Of course not. You didn’t have the time. You had a war to win, to ensure their sacrifices weren’t in vain. Now you had nothing but time, and no way to help them other than your silence. That’s all you can do to save anyone now, isn’t it? Save your friends, your country, your soulmate only by keeping your mouth shut. Powerless to do anything else.

The soldier who comes to collect your bowl doesn’t comment on your sniffling. You appreciate it. You don’t have the energy right now, and you have more pressing issues to worry about than comfort from a stranger, anyway.

"When's my execution?" The soldier jumps when you speak, as they all do. They seem oddly frightened of your voice in particular. You wonder if the Commander's annoyance at your lack of cooperation is so obvious it's made them fear consequences from him. You wonder if he's a cruel enough man to make those fears a reality. Surely not, with the way he treated your wounds so kindly. Or perhaps it was simply your bond that compelled him to do that, and the universe tied you to a tyrant.

No, of course not. Surely it was fear of whoever ordered you to be starved.

"Your...what?" The boy is young, with scraggly facial hair he's better off shaving and a few pimples poorly hidden beneath it. You wonder if this is such an awful place they draft children into their armies, or, worse, they let them volunteer. This young man should not have to know war.

"My execution. I assume it's soon, yes?"

"I'm...we have no current plans to execute you, General." He's shaking in his boots, his eyes sliding away from yours. The thought of death makes him uncomfortable, and your nonchalance even more so. "You're not on death row."

You laugh, looking down at your bandages, turning a sickly yellow after weeks of going unchanged. The Commander was the only one ensuring you survived beyond the week, and he seems to have abandoned that mission. Does this young man not know about your lack of use, or was the Commander lying to you earlier? Maybe his mission to get you to talk was just a personal one. You push the thought from your mind, turning back to the poor boy in front of you. "So I'm a hostage, then?"

He wants to say no, but he doesn't want to lie to you. He's an open book, and you wonder which of your comrades will make this earnest young man's family bury him. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“They won’t take me back, you know. Goa never negotiates for prisoners of war. Strict policy.”

You can see the horror on his face at the idea of you rotting here forever. “Not even for a General?”

“Especially not for a General. I made my oath knowing what would happen if I failed. Frankly, I’d be furious if they did try to make a deal for me. Which they wouldn’t. Anything that happens to me now is simply the consequences of my failure.” He seems upset on your behalf, something you can’t help but smile sardonically at. How many of his countrymen have you cut down? This is hardly a worthy payment for the blood you’ve spilt. Even a lifetime down here wouldn’t offset the things you’ve done in the name of your people. An honorable fight still ends in death. “Tell your superiors if you think they don’t know. I have no value to them alive.”

You don’t want to spend the rest of time rotting down here, thinking about what could have been or the world outside. You’d rather have a clean ending, if you have to have one. Maybe your men will see you as a martyr. That wouldn’t be so bad.

His voice cracks as he speaks next, and you can’t tell if it’s from his age or the fear. “Y–yes Ser.”

You almost laugh. You haven’t been a Ser since that blade slipped between your ribs. It feels strange to get the respect you were so accustomed to outside of these walls. So funny how quickly your sense of self has come undone in your isolation. As the days go on, you feel all of the best parts of you slipping away: your authority, your humor, your kindness. You get the feeling very little of you will be left by the end of it all. They’re killing your soul before they take out of the body it’s leaving behind.

You hope the Commander wasn’t lying about what they’ll do once they realize you won’t speak.

Soon, you find winter has come. You cannot feel your fingers, and you can see a horrible pale has started to spread from their tips downward. You've seen plenty of frostbite on the battlefield, on poor infantrymen with torn coats and hole-filled gloves. You've seen how bad it can get, and you know that soon your skin will start to darken purple, that soon you will start to rot. There is nothing you can do, not with your raggedy clothes and threadbare blanket. The chill is seeping out of the stone below you, an inescapable creeping darkness that will soon overcome you. You had hoped for a more dignified death, but you suppose nature isn't the worst way to go. At least it won't be a spectacle. A small footnote in history at worst, the kind your eyes skim right over. People will not remember you for this. A small mercy.

He has not visited you in days, since the cold swept in. Neither have the soldiers delivering you food, or even the ones who sneak it to you. Maybe they truly are planning on letting you die down here, and the Commander has finally accepted he won't hear a word from you before you do. Maybe he doesn't want to witness it. Maybe he simply doesn't care enough to see it, is content to know you're rotting away.

You know the sound of his footsteps by heart now, despite how much you wish you didn’t. He walks slowly, downright leisurely, to your cell. Your eyes flutter open at the sound of the bars creaking open.

He has a new scar, forcing one of his beautiful eyes closed. A shame. You had decided those were your favorite part of him.

He leans down to you, knees pressing against the stone as he looks at you. His fingers slide over your bandages, and you jump under his touch. There’s little warmth in his eyes, his kindness hidden beneath the cold exterior of a soldier. He’s overlooking your form like a predator, taking in your sickly pallor and jutting ribs. His voice is cold when he speaks again. “Are you feeling like talking now?”

What?

“Hasn’t this been enough for you?” He stares at you as he did on the first day, ready to strike you down at the first sign of weakness.

Did he…no. No, no, he couldn’t have.

The Commander is the one who has been starving you.

His act slips for just a moment when he sees the look on your face, the betrayal and hurt you can’t quite hide. He doesn’t owe you anything, not really, but you realize you had almost trusted him. Never could bring yourself to doubt his intentions, not when you know what you are to each other. But you aren’t lovers, aren’t even friends. You’re enemies on either side of an endless and brutal war, and the Commander doesn’t strike you as the kind of man who likes to lose.

The regret on his face is quickly quelled as he schools his face back to neutral.

You pull away from him with what little strength you have, tucking your knees up protectively, making yourself small. How pathetic. What would the people who trained you think, seeing you show your weakness so obviously like this? They’d be ashamed. Say it would be better for you to fall on the battlefield than to allow yourself to be disgraced, stripped of your dignity. You can’t help but agree with them as you squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head.

“Still nothing?” He sounds frustrated. Maybe you’re an assignment he’s failing. Maybe he hoped his kindness would get you to talk, get some kind of information out of you, and when that failed he decided to leave you to rot and see if that softened you up. You try to take some comfort in the fact that he doesn’t seem to revel in it, but your growling stomach silences that thought pretty quickly.

You want to tell him to fuck off, to scream to the heavens, but you tell yourself that you’re better than him, showing him mercy like this. That you’ll be able to die with your head held high, knowing that you stuck to your principles, that you were stronger than him, than all of this. You’ll have been kinder than he could possibly know, even after all of this.

But then he opens his goddamn mouth again. “What’s with the accusing looks? I left you to rot like you wanted. I got back onto the battlefield and cut down a hundred of your comrades while you wasted away. Why should I protect you when you can’t give me a single goddamn word?”

What was the point of silence now? You had wanted to spare him the pain, the suffering of knowing what was meant to be and what never was. But why should he be spared? Why must you bear it all on your own, while he gets to move on? Some part of him should rot here with you. Whatever part you were meant to have.

“I never hated you before this moment, Commander.” Your voice is little more than a ragged whisper, but you know he hears you. His fingers tighten against the bars, and for a moment his face betrays him: surprise, confusion, understanding all flash across it at lightning speed. You wonder how he’ll react. If he would be swallowed by the regret he deserves.

His jaw tightens. His voice is quiet, cold. He makes his stance clear very quickly: this is not a man who is willing to love you. This is a man who is furious at being deceived. “I see. That’s a shame, General. I’d always thought this was something reciprocal.” There’s some deeper meaning laced to his words, but you don’t care to untangle it. Your head is fuzzy from hunger and your heart is hardened by the time you’ve spent rotting away down here.

“It wasn’t. It was never meant to be,” you mutter firmly. You let your head loll back, hitting the stone wall with a soft thump. Your eyes fall closed, and you can feel reality start to fade away, sleep slowly tearing at the edges.

“You think you’re the only one who gets to decide that?” He’s clenching his fists, veins popping from the tension.

The kind part of you wants to give him some explanation, about how this was for him, for his own good, but the rest of you is too damn tired to try. “Yes.”

He scoffs. “This is bullshit.”

You can’t help the soft, bitter laugh that leaves you. “That’s something we agree on. This is all meaningless. A joke the universe is playing on us.”

He sounds a bit softer when he speaks again, a bit closer to how he was on the first night, but the undercurrent of rage is still clear. “Some people would want to know about this. Some people think things happen for a reason.”

It’s your turn to scoff. “You don’t. Neither do I, not anymore.”

He pauses. “You used to?”

“I used to believe in a lot of things,” you murmur.

For once he doesn’t have an answer for you. The man who spent a month begging for your words left speechless now that he has them. You expect some kind of regret, or more anger, but instead he stares at you, face unreadable. When he closes your cell door, you can hear the metal clang from the force. He walks away, his footsteps echoing loudly against the cobblestone as he walks back to his life, with a new understanding that it will be one he spends alone.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay @hank88999 @lala27715 @kyllium @nerium21 @praline357 @fangeekkk @loserclub22 @starchild-unnamed @bethleeham @whitelaxe @tiredpoetrybitch @fangirlbitch02

[saved-fanfiction]

Dreaming of You Masterlist

Main Masterlist here

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. NSFW, mdni, 18+

Series:

Heart-Pirates: Law, Penguin, Shachi

Kid-Pirates: Kid, Killer, Heat

Marines: Koby, Helmeppo, Smoker

Donquixote: Doflamingo, Caesar, Rosinante

Cross-Guild: Crocodile, Mihawk, Buggy

Straw-Hats: Zoro, Usopp, Sanji

ASL Brothers: Ace, Sabo, Luffy

Red-Hair Pirates: Shanks, Beckman, Hongo

Zoan-Fruit Users: Jabra, Lucci, Kaku

Old & Bold: Garp, Whitebeard, Rayleigh (& Roger)

Whitebeard Pirates: Thatch, Izou, Marco

Vinsmoke Brothers: Ichiji, Niji, Yonji

Requests:

Katakuri

King

Loki (Elbaf)

[saved-fanfiction]

Source for Pic

Eustass "Captain" Kid

Source for Pic

|The Ghost From The Barrow| - Kid x Fem!Reader 🔞

Summary: You are the daughter of a clan chief in the Highlands, though you are more trouble than you are worth. Some thugs capture you and attempt to demand a ransom, but things don't exactly go their way when their leader, Kid, discovers what you are truly made of.

Source for pic

|The Warrior's Wrath| - Kid x Fem!Reader 🔞 |Part 1| | |Part 2|

Summary: You and Kid, the fiercest worry of your village, get married and happiness is just within your reach. Until Blackbeard, the laird, comes to claim prima nocta and takes you. Somehow, you are able to placate Kid’s anger before you go, yet, when you return filled with marks and bruises, Kid can no longer be controlled.

Source for Pic

|Mine to Protect| - Kid x Fem!Reader 🔞 |Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3|

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Source for Pic

|My Personal Hell| - Kid x gn!Reader - 100 followers event

Summary: You protect Kid during a Marine attack and end up pretty hurt. He has a very weird way to show his concern and affection towards you.

Source for pic

|In the quiet of his arms| - Kid x Fem!Reader (though the only reference to gender is Kid calling you lass)

Summary: You are trying to fight off a terrible migraine. Your Captain ends up helping you.

|Dipshit On Deck| - Kid x Gn!Reader

Summary: It's Friday the 13th and - of course - there's a storm brewing. And, pray, what is that black shadow on deck?

Source for pic

|Drowning in Flames| - Kid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You saved Kid from drowning and your thanks involves scrubbing the deck.

Source for pic

|Wicked Game| - Kid x Fem!Reader 🔞

Summary: You've returned from a two-week mission away from the crew, and Kid doesn't leave his workshop to say hello. It's time to take matters into your own hands. Literally.

Art: Here;Artist: @wesaier (pleeeease follow, such amazing art!)

|Reverence| - Kid x Fem!Reader 🔞

Summary: You and Kid are neighbours and very good friends. You flirt a lot, all in good fun, obviously, and he makes fun of every single one of your loser dates. When the last date goes south and you call Kid for help, will your relationship blosom into something else?

Source for pic

|Gone| - Kid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Kid faces a loss that devastates him like nothing else. Not even Killer seems able to rouse the Captain from his grief.

Massacre Soldier Killer

Source for Pic

|The Beast Within| - Killer x Male!Reader

Summary: Killer gets bitten on a routine scouting mission and dismisses it as a minor wound. Turns out it was anything but a minor wound. As he starts to transform into something else, you try with all your might to bring him back home. Back to you.

[saved-fanfiction]

The way I giggled like a school girl when Law switched the papers for more fanfic 🤣

Fanboy

Pairing: Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You get a little more than you bargained for when you decide to clean your Captain's office for him and stumble upon his smutty fanfiction. Warnings: Very Mild Angst, Smut, Fem!Reader, Roleplay, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Edging, Minor Dacryphilia, Petnames (use of sweetheart and good girl) Word Count: 7.6k Notes: This was originally supposed to be a sub 2000 word silly one shot about Law writing Sora smut. As you can see, it very quickly got out of hand. I hope you all enjoy it!

You have come to terms with the fact your Captain does not and will never want you how you want him.

It was hard, at first, to hear his silky voice and see his strong hands and not imagine him saying what you want to hear as he holds you against the wall, fingers slipping slowly up your thighs to where you need him most. It got even harder a few years in, after he started wearing perpetually open shirts and coats, showing off the tattoos you so desperately want to trace your tongue across. But you’re finally starting to accept that he simply doesn’t feel the same. His eyes don’t linger on you when you’re around. He doesn’t show you any leniency (not that you would expect any, of course, but it’s hard not to notice his favoritism for Bepo when he forgives him in an instant for a transgression he had you swab the deck for). He doesn’t accept your help when you offer it, no matter how badly he needs it.

He just doesn’t really want anything to do with you, or at least no more to do with you than anyone else on the ship. Penguin and Shachi, who unfortunately clocked your affection for your Captain years ago, have come up with a long list of excuses as to why he hasn’t shown any signs of affection.

“He’s shy.”

“He gets embarrassed easily.”

“He’s worried about the power gap.”

“He only looks at you when you aren’t looking.”

“Yelling is how he shows his affection.”

And of course, your personal favorite.

“He’s just a nerd. He doesn’t know how to act around women.”

Shachi has repeated this one a lot, and as always you immediately dispute it. “That cannot possibly be true, Shachi.”

“Why not?”

“Look at him!”

“I know what he looks like. Doesn’t change the fact he gets nervous.”

“Captain has never, for even a single moment, shown any sort of hesitation or shyness in front of me. And he’s a grown man, a handsome one, not to mention a wanted pirate. You honestly expect me to believe he’s some shy little nerd who can’t bring himself to talk to me? He just doesn’t like me, Shachi. And that’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“Handle what?” Penguin’s voice echoes in the small room he and Shachi share, which you’ve decided to invade for the day. 

“Her pining for Captain.”

“Ah.”

You huff. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s like…a fact of life. Something so easy to brush past.”

Shachi narrows his eyes in confusion. “I thought you said that’s what you wanted to do. Be casual about it, and all.”

“Yeah, I want to. It feels different when you do it.” You’re pouting. You hate that you’re pouting.

Penguin gives you a pitying smile, dripping with good natured sympathy that makes you clench your jaw. “It’s tough, isn’t it?” He sits on the edge of his bed, careful not to shift you too much. He pats your shoulder, tutting quietly. “It’s hard to get over somebody you don’t really want to get over.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. You finally lift your head, and once you make eye contact, his smile turns a little more teasing.

“I know a great guy you could use as a rebound.”

You sigh. “Is it you?”

He laughs. “Who’s to say? You don’t need him yet.” His smile softens again, something more genuine. “But know that if you really do give up, there will be other guys. Other chances. Give this one a good shot, a real one, and if it doesn’t work out? Come talk to us, and it’ll all be alright.”

Shachi pipes up as well. “It will work out, really. But if it doesn’t…” he wiggles his eyebrows, and you can’t help but finally give them the laugh they were clearly aiming for. Which becomes a full on giggle fit once they light up and give each other a massive high five at their victory. The room is warm, and you finally forget your worries for a moment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Law’s voice cuts through you like ice, and your laughter stops in an instant. Shachi and Penguin are unphased, of course, still smiling freely.

“I just got off of my shift, Captain. I was going to take a nap, but…” Penguin pokes your side, and you let out a soft squeak as you curl in on yourself. You don’t miss the way Law’s eyes narrow slightly at the contact, the way he seems to focus in on the noise. He must be annoyed with you, with how you’re taking up space somewhere you don’t belong.

“I’m also off shift.” Your voice is small, embarrassingly so. 

“I wasn’t talking to you two.” Law’s voice is just as flat and authoritative as always. He’s nothing if not born to command. You’d love to hear what commands he might give you, if–

No. Bad. Evil. Your mind betrays you, as it always does. You sit up so you can hide yourself behind Penguin, make yourself small and inconspicuous and hope that Law will stop looking at you with those beautiful piercing eyes. You don’t know how long you can be normal under such an intense gaze. 

“I’m on break,” Shachi defends, causing Law’s eyes to shift over to him. You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief as you feel the pressure of his gaze leave you, and you wrap your arms lightly around Penguin, allowing your forehead to fall forward and press into his back. You can feel the rumble of a laugh working its way through his chest, though you can’t figure out why.

Law’s voice is significantly harsher than before. “Well, end it.” You flinch, unused to him snapping quite so cruelly. Law may have a shorter temper than he would admit, but he never sounds quite so furious, especially not with Shachi and Penguin. He seems to realize this as well, because the next time he speaks is much gentler. “I–Just get back to work. I need everyone at their best right now.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” There’s a hint of chuckle in Shachi’s voice, for some reason. He stands, bed creaking as he does. “You can use my bed if you want to nap in here. Let Peng have his.”

You let out a soft whine, but peel yourself off of Penguin anyway. “No, it’s fine, I should get back to my room anyway. I need a nap before I do anything else.” You think you see Law nodding in approval out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look at him, his eyes are firmly on Shachi, glaring at his back as he leaves. Just wishful thinking on your part, as always. 

Penguin softly pats your back as you walk past. “Chin up. It’ll all work out.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“What’ll work out?” Law is staring at Penguin’s hand on your back.

“Nothing!” You try not to sound panicked. You fail, of course.

His eyes narrow.

“Sorry, Captain. This is a secret just for us lowly crew members. No captains allowed!” Penguin’s smile is relaxed and easy, and it almost manages to calm you down. You would love to play along, make a little joke out of it, but the idea of him finding out petrifies you. What if he’s disgusted by the idea? Horrified enough to kick you out of the crew, your home, your family? He wouldn’t, you know that, but the image in your head is so clear. Your chest feels tight, your head fuzzy, and you think at some point you started holding your breath.

Law makes a noncommittal grunt, scowl still clear on his face, but he leaves. A small mercy.

“Hey, take a breath, please. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

“Are you gonna be alright to get back to your room? Do you need me to walk you?” Penguin’s hand rests gently on your elbow, and he looks ready to jump to your aid at any moment.

You give him a shaky smile. “I’ll be alright. Anxiety’s never killed anyone. Probably.” You take care to walk as steadily as you can out of the room, avoiding eye contact with your Captain, who’s waiting directly outside.

“You okay?” His voice stops you in your tracks.

“Yeah, I’m–” You see the disbelief on his face. “I’ve been better. But it’s okay. I’ll get there.”

“Are Penguin and Shachi giving you trouble? They mean well, but sometimes their jokes can go a little far. I–” He clears his throat, eyes glancing away for a moment. “I could talk to them. If you need me to.”

You chuckle. This means he really has no idea he’s the source of your anguish. Good. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. They’re actually helping me through something.”

He purses his lips. You imagine how soft they’d feel on yours. “Helping you through something?”

“Yeah. I’ve been struggling with it lately, and talking to them has really helped.” You stare intensely at the wall behind him, worrying that you’ll come undone and say something you can’t take back if you stare into his eyes for too long. Something about him just makes you want to melt under his gaze, and you can’t afford to give in to the impulse.

He hums, eyes briefly fluttering closed. “I see. Well, I’m glad you have their support.” Is it just you, or is his voice a bit colder than it was before? “I’ll leave you be. Have a nice nap.”

“Thanks, Captain.” You try not to run back to your room until you’re sure he can’t hear your footsteps anymore. You change out of your boiler suit, desperate to be in something more comfortable than this, and throw yourself into your bed face first. You press your face into your pillow, trying to ground yourself. You aren’t allowed to imagine what it would feel like to lay on Law’s chest instead, his hands on your back, tracing meaningless patterns into your skin. You aren’t allowed to imagine the warmth of the blankets as his, or the comfort of your weighted blanket as his arm around your back. You certainly aren’t allowed to cry about the fact that it isn’t him, and that it never will be. Because that would mean you weren’t getting over him, instead getting lost in a fantasy of what can never and will never be. And you have no time for fantasy, despite what your heart keeps trying to tell you. 

You dream of him, as you always seem to.

You could cope with it, if it were simply sex. If it were about nothing more than his cock and his hands and the way his voice penetrates deep into your bones whenever you hear it, turning you pliable and needy. But today’s dream is one you’ve had before, and one you always dread.

I love you. His hands are gentle as they wrap around your waist, pulling you close. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. His nose nuzzles against your neck, tickling you and making you giggle.

I love you too, Law. I think I always have. Your hands rest on his chest, and you can feel his heart beating below your fingers, quick and thundering. You smile. Nervous?

Of course I am. Look at you. His eyes bore into yours, and you can see the affection flooding them. His nose brushes against yours, his lips growing closer, and his eyes flutter shut.

Yours shoot open.

No matter how many dreams you have about Law, you can never kiss him. How sad, that your brain can imagine a hundred ways he can fuck you and not one in which gives you the one thing you’ve been craving most.

You throw off your covers and throw on a bra, not bothering to get fully dressed. You need some air, which is unfortunate, considering the Tang won’t surface for at least another day or two. You can at least go downstairs and find a window, press yourself against the glass and pretend you’re out in the cold of the ocean, at peace with the world around you. You can avoid passing Law’s office, and hopefully that means you’ll avoid the man himself. You don’t want to burst into tears the moment you see him, and you feel too soft and fragile right now, like your edges are crumbling. Half of you is still in the dream, melting into fantasy, and being snapped into reality with a single look might shatter you.

You pad quietly out into the hallway, unsure of what time it is, not wanting to wake anyone. It’s impossible to tell what time of day it is on the Tang when you’re underwater, lit only by harsh fluorescents that constantly buzz. It’s peaceful, feeling the cold metal of the floors seep through your socks and hearing the quiet thunk of your footsteps muffled by the fabric. 

“Are you heading downstairs?”

You turn to see Bepo, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, papers in hand. “Yeah, I am. Why? Do you need something?”

“Can you run these to Captain for me? I would, but–” 

You see him wince as he speaks, and you immediately know what the problem is. Before you can even think about it, you’re swiping the papers from his hands easily. “Yeah, of course, big guy. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you so much!” He’s off in an instant.

You stare at the papers, willing yourself into reality. You’re going to bring something to your captain. The man you have no other relationship with. Just doing your job. And afterwards you can go back to your room and cry all you want, if you really feel like you need to.

Law should be in his office right now, buried up to his neck in paperwork. It doesn’t feel great to add to that pile, or to let him see you so underdressed, but Bepo needed help. You can’t let him suffer just to avoid some embarrassment. You make your way down, knocking lightly against his office door.

No voice calls you inside.

Strange. He should be here. Maybe he fell asleep at his desk again. You’ve heard the others scold him for that dozens of times, and you’ve caught him yourself once or twice. He’s going to ruin his back if he keeps doing that. You crack open the door, ready to shift him into a more comfortable position, but you find your Captain isn’t actually there at all. His desk is a mess, papers everywhere, a sharp contrast from the neatly organized shelves and minimalist look of the rest of the room.

“Maybe I should tidy up for him,” you mutter to yourself. Law hates asking for help with things he believes he should be able to handle on his own, but clearly this is getting away from him. And even if he wasn’t grateful for the intrusion, at least it might lighten his load a little. You’d do nearly anything to ease your Captain’s burdens, if he’d just let you.

Before you realize it, your hands are on the papers, your former fragility forgotten as you get lost in the calm that such a mundane task brings you. You start by simply organizing the papers into stacks based on their titles and a quick skim of their opening paragraphs. You don’t read any further, not wanting to read anything not meant for your eyes, and you quickly find you’re able to organize everything into three neat stacks: medical papers, ship logs, and a third stack of anything that doesn’t fit into the previous two. You’re nearly finished when you find a title that makes you pause.

You can’t figure out what What You Can’t Have could mean, or what this bundle of papers is doing in Law’s office. Skimming the first few paragraphs doesn’t give you any explanation, until you start reading more closely and see a name: Sora.

Everyone in the North Blue knows about Sora, Warrior of the Sea, and everyone on this ship knows it more intimately than most. Your Captain’s fondness for the series and your fondness for him means you know it very well, well enough to know this is not one of the noncanonical (but still official) spinoff novels, or a novel adaptation of one of the comics. There’s a character you’ve never heard of before in this, one that, if you were a more paranoid person, you would suspect is based on you. She can’t be, of course. That would be ridiculous. But as you read her introductory paragraph, you can’t help but notice she bears a striking physical resemblance to you. Same hair and eye color, same height, same build. But she can’t be you. She’s described as seductive, enchanting, and many other things you know nobody would ever say about you.

You should put this down. But the writing style is so familiar, and so are the handwritten edits in the margins. Your captain wrote this. You had no idea this was what he did in what little spare time he has. You keep telling yourself to stop reading, to tuck it away and pretend you didn’t see it, because really, you know he wouldn’t want you to have seen it, easily embarrassed as he is. But there’s so much passion in the words, so much care, and frankly? It’s good. Really good. You think he has some real talent, in something you would have never expected him to even try. His care for the series oozes from every word, and he’s really good at building tension, and–

Oh.

Your captain hasn’t just been writing fanfiction about his favorite hero.

He’s been writing smut.

Really good smut, honestly.

You lean against the desk, completely enraptured by his work. The tension between Sora and this unnamed woman is astonishing, every single word winding you up tighter as you wait for the dam to break. Before you know it, you’re fully bent over the desk, clutching the page in your hands, trying not to rub your thighs together at the very graphic descriptions of what Sora is doing with his hands. You imagine Law’s hands, lithe and long, sliding under your shirt like Sora’s do under this mystery woman’s. You imagine his breath puffing against your ear as he instructs, be good for me, now, and maybe you can finally get what you want, just like Sora does. You imagine him moving impossibly closer, feeling his hardness press into your thigh as– 

“What are you doing in here?”

You freeze. Your captain is standing in the door, papers in hand and scowl severe. If you didn’t know better, you would think for a moment his eyes lingered on the cleavage you’re showing by leaning over this far. But you do know better, so you tell yourself he’s simply observing the papers in your hands, even if his gaze seems aimed too high for that. You shoot up, papers still in hand, shirt riding up in the process, and god does it look like his eyes dip down to your exposed midriff in the process. But they don’t. You have more pressing matters than your delusions, anyway.

“Hi Captain!”

“...Hi.”

“I–Um. I was organizing your desk for you.”

His eyes linger on the three stacks of papers, humming quietly. “I see that. …Why?”

“Bepo had me run papers down to you, but you weren’t here, and–and your desk was so messy, so much messier than usual, and I was worried maybe you were overwhelmed and I thought it might help.” You’re speaking a mile a minute, clutching the papers close to your chest in some desperate attempt to ground yourself, but the sound of the papers wrinkling causes him to glance down and now you’re sure that just for a moment he was looking at your boobs and you’re far more flustered than you were when you began.

And even worse, he smiles. It’s a soft, gentle thing, which sneaks so slowly onto his face you don’t even know if he realizes it’s there. But it is. And it’s beautiful. “Thank you, then. I appreciate the thought.”

Your grip eases on the papers for a second, and the crinkling brings his attention back to them. You don’t know what gives it away, but with the way his eyes widen slightly, the way his lips part, you know that he knows what you have in your hands. The way he whispers your name, the fear in it, makes your heart clench.

“Captain–”

“Did you–I–” He takes a breath, gathers himself. “Did you read anything you weren’t supposed to?”

God, you did. You’re halfway through a sex scene, flushed and flustered and thinking about your captain in ways that are wholly and completely inappropriate. You’re panicking. You can’t let Law see how flustered you are, can’t let him realize that you were fantasizing about him, lusting after him in his office while he’s out like some kind of pervert. So, trying to turn this around on him, throw him off his rhythm, you decide to make a deeply out of character choice.

You open your mouth, taking a dramatic breath as though you're going to start reading aloud, and you can see the panic in Law's eyes. Before you can decide between reading and handing it over to spare him the embarrassment, you hear “Shambles!” as the papers in your hand are swapped with the ones he walked in with. You're momentarily disappointed, before you look down and are struck with intense and all consuming delight.

In trying to get the fanfiction out of your hands, Law has, in fact, given you more of his fanfiction to read.

You gasp quietly, cheshire cat grin widening. Law looks at you with confusion, clearly still so thrown he hasn't realized what's just transpired. In your current state, you can only think of one way to inform him.

"Her hands were soft and gentle, so small compared to his-"

"STOP." He lunges forward around the desk, powers forgotten as he decides to bullrush you to get the papers out of your hands. His hands wrap around your wrists, and before you know it you’re pinned against the desk, chests pressed together, his leg pressed between your thighs. You flush, overwhelmed by the sensation of his hard body against yours, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Do you think this is funny?”

You open your mouth to respond, but his lips are so close, and you feel something else pressing into your midriff. You make a small choked noise, and his glare doesn’t dampen.

“Are you trying to embarrass your captain?”

“I–uh–Captain–” You can barely squeak out anything, and he presses closer.

“Answer me.”

“You’re so close.”

He pauses.

He blinks.

And suddenly your captain is across the room, face bright red, holding his papers in front of his chest like a shield. “I–um.” He stares at you a moment, his eyes moving from your face to your chest to your hips and back up, and suddenly the papers shifts down in front of his crotch.

He couldn’t…

Could he?

Before you can process this, he’s speaking again, his tone far less authoritative than it was before. “How far did you read?”

“Uh–pretty far.”

You could swear his voice cracks a little as he whispers, “Oh god. This is–you were never supposed to see that.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep reading, it was just–it was really good.”

He stares at you a moment, mouth agape. “What?”

“It was–I liked it a lot. I didn’t even mean to start it, I just couldn’t figure out what pile to put it in, and then I got really invested, and–I’m really, really sorry, Captain.”

“You liked it?” His eyes are narrowed, looking at you like something dangerous, like if he shows a moment of weakness you’ll pounce. He approaches you slowly, inching closer and closer.

“...Yeah. I did. I was really impressed, actually. I didn’t know you were a writer.”

He scoffs. “I wouldn’t call myself that.”

“Why?”

“I just…don’t know if I’m good at it.” He sounds small in a way you’ve never heard him. You’ve never seen Law less than confident before. He absolutely radiates it, a constant smug grin and twinkle in his eyes. It suits him far better than slumped shoulders and wringing hands.

“Are you kidding? It was amazing. What I was able to read, anyway. I couldn’t bear to put it down.” You reach for him for just a moment, your hand ready to touch his shoulder, but something in you pulls it back. You can’t bring yourself to touch him, not as you are. 

He won’t look at you. You can feel his regret in sharing, in allowing his mask to crack slightly. There’s a bitterness to his tone as he snaps at you like a wounded animal. “You expect me to believe that? That you didn’t just read it to laugh at me?”

You can’t keep the pity off of your face. His first instinct is always to believe he’ll be hurt, that an open hand is a sign of a slap, and not a kind touch. “Why on earth would I do that, Captain?”

His shoulders unknot a bit as he thinks it over. You have never done anything to hurt him, and to tease in such a cruel way is not in your nature. He’s not relaxed, not quite, but he isn’t ready to run anymore. He leans against a nearby table, parking himself at a distance but assuring you he won’t go further. “I suppose you wouldn’t. …So you really liked it?”

The way he’s looking at you is so fragile, so soft. You feel your heart clench at the sight of such a guarded man looking so adorable, though you know he would hate to be called such a thing. You can’t help the affection that leaks into your gentle smile as you look at him. “I really did.”

He huffs, trying to bring back up his walls, but he can’t hide his relief, and his continued interest. “What did you like about it?”

“I thought the descriptions were very vivid. It was…” It feels like crossing a line you can’t uncross to call it hot, but he’s looking at you so expectantly. “Very stimulating.”

Something akin to a smirk grows on his face, offset by the dust of a blush on his cheeks. His voice is an octave deeper when he speaks. “Simulating?”

You shiver. “I–uh–yes. The leads had really good chemistry. I never imagined Sora would be so…charming. And I liked the woman too, though I have to admit I didn’t recognize her name.”

He nods. “You wouldn’t. She’s an original character.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I wanted to try my hand at something new, and I didn’t like pairing him with any of the canon characters so I just…made one up.”

You shift nervously on your feet, thinking about how remarkably familiar her description was. “So you made her just for this? Didn’t even give her a name?”

“I haven’t decided her name yet, but I’m working on it. And yeah, she’s just for this. Why?”

You want to be subtle, ease your way in, but your mind is running a mile a minute and frankly subtlety has never been your strong suit anyway. “So…is she supposed to be me?”

He shoots up so quickly he nearly falls over. “What? No! No, why would you think that?” He looks absolutely mortified, like he’s praying the floor swallows him whole. He looks about two seconds away from shambling himself out of the sub and letting the ocean take him away.

“Well in her intro, when you describe her…she looks a lot like me.”

“...She does?” He seems genuinely surprised, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Why are you asking? You’re the writer! You didn’t realize?”

“No, I…” He’s blushing to the tips of his ears. “She was just supposed to be a beautiful woman. I didn’t think that hard about what she looked like beyond that.”

“She has the same hair color and eye color as me, you describe her as around my height, and the dress she’s wearing in her intro is my favorite color.”

His shoulders are so tense they’re practically up over his ears. If his voice cracks when he yells, you’re kind enough not to acknowledge it. “I didn’t think that much about it! I just thought of a beautiful woman and I described her.”

“So when you think of a beautiful woman in your head, you see me?”

He doesn’t answer.

You try to hide your giddy smile. “That’s sweet, Captain.”

He avoids eye contact so aggressively you swear it must be hurting him at this point. “It wasn’t–I–I didn’t notice. You don’t think it’s…creepy?”

“That you think I’m beautiful?”

“That I wrote porn about a woman who looks exactly like you.”

“Oh. When you put it like that I guess it doesn’t sound great.” He tenses again, so you rush to reassure him. “But no, I don’t think it’s creepy. It’s not like you meant to, or anything. Or that you wrote about me and like, another member of the crew or something. Why would I be mad that I just happen to be exactly your type?” Your heart is beating out of your chest as you try to portray a confidence you certainly don’t feel. 

“Right. Yeah. I–There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He didn’t deny it.

“And it’s…great porn, honestly.”

Your delivery is so awkward the tension finally breaks as he laughs at you. “I appreciate that. I worked hard on it. But I’m not sure on some of the descriptions.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure it reads as true to life.”

“Does it need to?”

“No, not really, fantasies don’t have to be realistic. But…I can’t help but think about it anyway. What if part of it is so unrealistic it takes you out of it entirely, and I just didn’t notice? Or didn’t know because I’ve never tried that specific thing? Do you know what I mean?”

You do. You know insecurity in your work, the way it whispers in your ear. You know that words are not enough reassurance to silence those whispers. You want to help him, even if you don’t know how you could.

“What if we…tested it? To see if it’s realistic?” You can’t believe the words that just left your mouth. From the look on his face, Law can’t either.

“What?” A beautiful crimson streaks across his face and up to his ears, heat radiating off of him.

“Oh my god. Forget I said that, that was so inappropriate, I’ll just go–”

“No!” He’s so loud you both flinch, and he seems surprised by his own objection. His long fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and you can feel his calluses brush against your skin. God, what you wouldn’t give for those fingers to be somewhere else. “No, don’t–don’t leave. I think–I would–um. I’d like that.”

You blink. “You would?”

“Just to…test it. To make sure my writing is accurate. I’m a perfectionist.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.” His eyes flicker down to where he’s holding you, and to your surprise, he doesn’t release his grip. He tugs you closer, pressing your chests together, and you can feel his warm breath in his ear. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Law.”

“What?”

The deep rumble of his voice is commanding in a way that has you rubbing your thighs together. “I want to hear you say my name. Call me Law.”

“Yes, Law.”

You can feel his smirk as he whispers the next words in your ear. “Good girl.”

Heat rushes to your face, and you bite your lip to keep from making any deeply embarrassing noises. He chuckles as he pulls away, and you see no trace of his earlier apprehension or nerves. You suppose Law has always been a good liar, always putting up the front of the proud, confident, and unshakable Surgeon of Death. What is this but another part for him to play?

“How did it start again?” He places his hands on your hips, leading you away from the desk and toward the wall. “She and Sora meet up in the club, strike up a conversation–”

“Can we skip to the good part?” You hate how needy and breathless you sound. You’re already worked up from reading, from hearing him speak, from being so close, that you think if you spend another minute without some kind of release you might explode.

He chuckles. “I guess we can skip forward a bit.” He presses you against the wall, hand sliding to your thigh. You shiver, but he stops right before his fingers slide under your shorts. “But have you been good enough to earn it?”

You whine, a pathetic, wounded sound that comes from deep within you. For a moment, you see his facade slip as he swallows, trying not to give away how much the sound turned him on. But after a moment his mask settles back firmly in place, and you’re both ready to continue the game. “Please, Law. I’ve been good. I’ll be good.”

His smile is all teeth as his fingers find their place inside of you. First one, pumping slowly and deliberately, curling to hit your sweet spot just right. He moans quietly in your ear at the feeling of it. You know his line before he says it. “Do you feel that? The way you’re pulling me in? You need me bad, sweetheart, don’t you?”

He inserts a second finger right as you open your mouth to answer. “Ahh–Yes! I need you!”

He pumps harder, faster, and his other hand starts to wander towards your chest. His lips find your neck, nipping at the point where it meets your jaw, making you gasp again. His hand gently squeezes your breast through your shirt, and he can feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. He chuckles. “Yes, you do. Nobody else can make you feel as good as I can. You know it. That’s why you’re here, that’s why you’re so drawn to me. On some level you know: it’s just you and me. We’re all there is, all that matters. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Law! Yes!”

His free hand effortlessly removes your shirt, and you gasp as you’re exposed to the air, your back pressing into the cold wall. He removes your bra next, letting out a soft hiss of appreciation when he finally sees them fully exposed. “As beautiful as I imagined,” he whispers, seemingly to himself. You don’t remember that line.

His mouth finds your nipple easily, sucking and nipping as you threaten to come undone under his attention. His fingers are still moving, his thumb on your clit, building the tension in your body until you feel like you’re going to explode. You’re so very close to the edge, close enough that in your pleasure you forget the next part of the story for a moment.

Until his fingers leave you.

“No!” Your head slams back into the wall as you wail, tears welling up in your eyes. Law seems unaffected, pulling back from you as he slowly inserts his fingers into his mouth, savoring your taste. The only sign that you’ve shaken him is the clear strain of his cock under his jeans, desperate to be free.

His fingers leave his mouth with a pop, and he smiles at you, eyes half-lidded. “Did you think it was going to be that easy? That you would just get what you want, no questions asked?”

You whine, the sound filled with genuine despair. The room is silent for a moment as he stares at you, waiting for your next line, and you try to remember the part you’re supposed to play here. You just barely manage to grasp it, breathlessly saying, “I thought you were a better man than to leave a lady wanting.”

He slides off his tank top, revealing his beautiful tattoos to you. “Oh, honey, this isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you need. And how wonderful it’ll be, once you’re so on edge you can barely stand it, and I finally give in to you. Can you imagine it?” He pops the button of his pants next, sensually sliding them and his boxers down to expose his bare hips. “What it’ll feel like, when I’m finally inside of you?”

His cock is finally free, bobbing in the air as it leaks with precum. He looks painfully hard, and you swallow as you briefly imagine it in your mouth. You’d give almost anything to taste him right now, but that isn’t a part of the scene.

“You’ll feel so full, honey. Imagine how good it’ll feel to cum on my cock. Isn’t that worth the wait?”

“God, yes.”

“Good girl. So agreeable.” One hand finds your hips as he uses the other to line himself up. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, god, please.”

He slowly slides in, feeling the drag of every inch of his dick against your walls. He makes a strangled noise at the feeling, burying his face into your neck as he desperately tries to catch his breath. He stops once he’s fully sheathed in you, giving you both a moment to adjust.

And then another.

And another.

“Law?”

You can hear him chuckle against you. “What, darling?”

“Please, Law.”

He pretends to ponder whether or not to give in for a moment, keeping you in suspense, before he relents. He pulls away from your neck, revealing his extremely red face. His voice may be calm, but the rest of him cannot hide the effects you’re having. “What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.”

You know the line you’re supposed to say next. She tells Sora she wants relief, wants him to move, wants anything that she can have. But you’re soft, and weak, filled with want. You cannot help but think of your dream this morning, what you were denied and what you’ve always wanted. So you speak the honest truth. “I want you to kiss me.”

He stares at you for a moment, eyes searching yours. You see your own want reflected in him, an affection that makes your chest ache. Then a smile blooms across his face, one gentler than you deserve. The line he says next is Sora’s, but what comes after is all Law. “Whatever the lady wants,” he murmurs, before his lips meet yours.

The kiss isn’t fireworks, or an all consuming flame, or any other way you’d ever heard such a thing described. It was tender, it was kind, and most importantly, it was Law. You’d never wanted anything else. It finally confirms to you that this isn’t a dream, that he’s really here, pressing you against this wall, a desire burning in him that only you can satiate. The lust is still here, the heat of your bodies intertwined, but there’s something tender and real beneath it. 

Once you both pull back, panting, you look into his eyes and know the scene is well and truly over. Now it’s just you and Law, breaths mingling and hearts pounding. He smiles at you, a nervous, delicate thing, his confidence left behind with the script. He’s breathless as he whispers, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

You let out a soft, unsure laugh. “Is that Law talking, or Sora?”

He brushes his nose against yours. “It’s all me. It always has been.”

You can’t help your lovesick smile, dripping with a saccharine fondness you couldn’t hide if you tried. You meet his lips again, a kiss with a little more fire, a little more desperation. You try to convey everything you can’t say aloud: the years of yearning, the pain of thinking this moment would never come, the euphoria of learning you were wrong. Your hands press against his chest, his pulse fluttering under your fingers in unison with your own. You wrap your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him ever closer. He lets out a soft sound, almost a whimper, at the feeling of your lips against his as you clench around him. His tongue slips into your mouth, and once again the air around you grows ever hotter.

“Can I move?” There’s a whine to his voice. “Please.”

“Please do,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chests together. 

He needs no further instruction, thrusting harshly, hips rutting against yours. You can feel him struggle to hold himself back from pounding into you at a bruising pace. His hands grip your hips, his nails digging in as he clenches his teeth.

“You don’t have to hold back, Law. I’ll take anything you want to give me.”

He struggles to speak through his self control. “I want to enjoy this. I want to take my time.” Another deliberate thrust has you dragging your nails down his back, making him moan in your ear. “I want this to be as good as it can be for you.”

“This is–ahh!–already better than I’d ever dreamed, Law.”

One of his hands moves to your clit, his fingers starting a steady motion. “Not good enough,” he mutters. His lips find your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along its length, his teeth grazing your skin. You feel yourself coming close to cumming again, your voice growing louder, echoing through the room as you babble. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, the words please and more and Law are all you can say, all you can think. There is nothing in the world beyond the feeling of him against you, inside of you, his soft lips and callused hands. 

You expect him to rip away your pleasure again, but when he briefly stills, your babbles turn to sobs anyway. He pulls back to look you in the eye, take in the sight of the tears running down your face, and you can see him soften once again. His hands and hips start moving again immediately as he presses soft kisses against your cheeks, clearing away your tears.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s alright. You’re doing great. I won’t take it from you again, I promise.” His voice is filled with pity. “You’ve been so good, you can take what you want now.” He builds you back up quickly, his hips pressing into yours even faster than before. You can feel yourself about to burst, and you slam your lips into his, moaning into his mouth. The dam finally bursts, and the pleasure nearly blinds you as you clench around him, his hips struggling to keep moving with how tightly your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your orgasm is what finally makes him break, filling you to the brim as his movements stutter.

You bask in the feeling for a moment, both panting and dripping with sweat, his cock rapidly softening inside of you. Your head lolls forward, pressing into his shoulder, and you press a kiss against his sticky skin.

“Was it worth the wait?” He tries to ask the question in a teasing tone, but you can hear the insecurity underneath it.

“It was worth everything and more.” You shift to wrap your arms tighter around him and nuzzle your face into his neck. 

You can feel the rumble of his chest as he chuckles, gathering you up as he slips out of you. “Agreed.” He kisses the side of your head, an action so filled with care it nearly makes you burst into tears again. He tries to lower you onto something, making you pull him closer and whine. “I just need to set you down for a second, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

“No.” You sound like a pouting child, making you cringe, but he laughs fondly anyway.

“Alright. A few more minutes. But I have to clean you up eventually, and then we need to find a place a bit more private to settle in, don’t you think? Or at least somewhere more comfortable.”

You hum quietly, pressing your nose further into him. You can worry about logistics in a few minutes. Right now you just want to bask in his warmth, in this dream turned reality, in the absolute joy of your feelings being reciprocated. “I really didn’t think you liked me,” you mutter sleepily. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“I could say the same,” he murmurs into your hair.

You laugh. “Shachi and Peng are going to be so smug about this.”

“They are?”

“They’ve been trying to tell me for years, and they don’t get to tell me I told you so very often.”

“They were telling you too?” He laughs. “We could have done this months ago if we’d just believed them.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your eyes starting to slip shut. “You’re worth the wait, though.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as his hand rubs soothing circles on your lower back, luring you further into sleep. “Yeah. So are you.”

Tag List:  @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay 

[saved-fanfiction]

hi I had another idea for a request! dealer’s choice on the character(s) (but if you’re stuck for an idea maybe law?), but maybe the reader gets hurt in a fight and their (slightly in denial about being in love) future love interest nurses them back to health? can be fluff or smut or whatever you want I’m not picky I just love seeing your words

thank you I still love your work please keep it up

This request is from @toadmakes, on anon since it's her sideblog! I thought this idea was so sweet, so I just made a really fluffy, self indulgent little piece. Also, I let Law be cool last time I wrote about him so of course I had to make him a flustered little nerd in this one. I hope you enjoy it!!

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Law x Reader

SFW

Summary: You get hurt protecting Law, and he's not pleased. Warnings: Fluff, Lots of Banter, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 1.3k

You don’t remember throwing yourself in front of Law, or being carried back to the Tang. You don’t remember the screams of your friends, or the shaking hands that so carefully bandaged you back up. But that’s alright, because they were all too eager to tell you how stupid you had been once you came to.

“–disgustingly irresponsible! Not to mention unnecessary! What good reason could there possibly have been to do that?” Law is the most furious you’ve ever heard him, and you fear it may be because he’s the most scared you’ve ever heard him. You don’t know how close of a call it was, but you know you hurt all over, and his eyes are shining with something someone who didn’t know better might confuse with tears.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” You try not to say it like an excuse or a plea. It’s simply fact.

His eyes shoot away from yours. You swear you see a hint of red on his cheeks, but just as quickly as you notice it, it’s gone. He clicks his tongue with displeasure before continuing. “I wasn’t going to get hurt. I could have very easily moved out of the way. You–” he sighs. “Don’t do anything like that again.”

“Well I don’t think I’ll be doing it anytime soon.” You try to give him a wry grin, but it turns more into a grimace as you shift, pain shooting through you. You’re covered head to toe in bandages, every part of you sore and bruised. You’re surprised you’re upright and conscious right now, honestly. “Can I get some painkillers?”

“You’re on enough to take down a horse.”

“But it still hurts.” You pout, and he grits his teeth and looks away from you again.

“Yeah. Almost dying tends to do that.” Even with the gruffness in his voice and face, his hands are gentle as they begin to fuss with your bandages, checking over every inch of you to ensure you’ve been properly taken care of. You could swear he hesitates slightly at checking the bandages around your thighs and chest, but he perserveres, ever the professional. You wince a few times when his hands brush a particularly tender spot, yelping when he makes slight contact with your ribs. He fiddles with the IV in your arm, and you feel a flood of relaxation and relief hit you. Looks like he found a reason to give you more painkillers after all. “You’re going to be out of commission for a long while, y’know.”

“How long?”

“At least six weeks, but probably longer.”

“What?”

“That’s nothing compared to what it could be. You have a couple broken ribs, not to mention all of the cuts and bruises. You’re lucky your organs weren’t crushed.”

“Can’t you like…shambles it away?”

“No.” His voice is flat. You look at him with wide, pleading eyes, and he scoffs at you. “Well, more like I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“If I just fix it you’ll run off and do it again, and next time you might not be so lucky.”

“Oh…so you’re just worried about me?” You giggle, filled with warmth at the idea. And maybe the pain meds. “You could just say so.”

“That’s not–” he lets out a soft choked sound when he realizes there’s no way to deny it without insisting he doesn’t care about you. As grumpy as he can be sometimes, he would never say something so unkind. Not to you. “Shut up.”

“Hey Captain?” You feel your tongue loosening with things you would never say, but you’re too out of it to stop yourself.

“Yes?”

“Do you like me?”

There’s definitely a flush to his cheeks now. “What?”

“I think you like me. A lot.”

“I–No!”

“You don’t like me?” Your voice cracks a little, tears coming far too quickly. Whatever he gave you is powerful stuff.

“That’s not–I–agh!” He roughly runs his fingers through his hair, desperately avoiding eye contact with you. “I like you. As a crewmate.”

You puff your cheeks out a bit with displeasure. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.” 

“I’ll believe you if you look at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

“You’re looking at the headboard over my shoulder, Captain.”

His eyes flick to yours, and he turns an even more brilliant shade of scarlet. “I li–” His shoulders tense and he suddenly shoots up and turns away from you. “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you about this. You’re high off your ass. I bet you won’t even remember this when you wake up tomorrow.” You can see the tips of his ears burning as he gathers his things and prepares to leave.

“You’re gonna abandon me?”

“I have work to do!”

“I’m a patient, I am work!”

His voice is rising with frustration. “You’re already set up, what else is there to do?”

“I don’t know, Captain, I’m not the doctor here!” You try to raise your arm to reach out to him, only to let out a soft whine when you can barely move it.

“Please stop trying to use your broken bones.” He comes closer to gently hold your arm down, concern clear.

“It doesn’t feel broken.”

“It will soon.”

“You’re gonna let me hurt? On purpose? You’re so mean to me, Captain.”

He sighs. His thumb starts rubbing small circles onto your hand, though he doesn’t seem conscious of the action. “If I fix you up, do you promise not to do anything like that again?”

“No.”

The affectionate movements stop. “What?”

“I can’t promise that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m strong, I can take a little pain.”

“But I don’t want you to.” You know you sound petulant and childish, but you can’t stop yourself. “I don’t want you to hurt at all, I don’t care if you can handle it. You shouldn’t have to.”

“So you should?”

“Yes.”

“That’s stupid.”

You huff. “You’re stupid.”

He can’t help but break into a rare laugh, a chuckle that rumbles through him and makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s lost himself until he looks up to see you staring at him, eyes wide and cheeks red, mouth slightly agape. “What?”

“I really like you, Captain.”

He grows horribly flustered, but for once he doesn’t pull away from you. He keeps looking you in the eye, even as every part of him screams to run and avoid his embarrassment. “You do?” His tone is heart-wrenchingly hopeful.

“I do. So, so much. You’re the most beautiful and wonderful person in the world.” You can feel your smile grow dopey and lovesick. “I’d take a million hits for you. A billion, even.”

“What if it’d make me happier if you didn’t take any hits at all?”

“Then I would say you shouldn’t have let me join your crew. Getting hit is part of the job. But that’s okay. You’re worth it.” You lean forward, begging him for a single touch, since you currently can’t lift your arms. You can feel your eyes drooping, but you fight to keep them open long enough to receive what you want.

He sighs, but you can see the affectionate smile creeping onto his face. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters, resting a hand against your cheek so tenderly you could weep. “Get some rest. I’ll fix you up in the morning.”

You hum as he uses his palm to gently push you back down, his other hand on your shoulders to recline you slightly. You’re fading fast, finally losing your fight with sleep, but before you go, you swear you feel the ghost of his lips against your forehead.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[saved-fanfiction]

if you wouldn't mind could you do headcanons with paulie x fem reader? i love the stinky rope man and any content concerning him :) can be sfw or n/sfw i don't have much of a preference thanks :-)

authors note : lovelove seeing others love this rope boy as much as me .. he's too precious ! did nsfw ones because um... anyways !! >< please enjoy <3

NSFW WARNING <3

<3 <3 <3

minors dni .

<3 <3 <3

Paulie x F! Reader NSFW Hcs

- Despite the amount of manly man energy Paulie possess, i know he's an absolute sub when it comes to the presence of an enchanting woman, like yourself. He’ll do anything you want, whenever. When Paulie falls, he falls hard. He’ll do anything, whether its sexual or not. Paulie discards every bit of shame he has, when he’s in your presence.

- Paulie loves having you sit on his face. Just- he loves pleasing you. It doesn’t matter if its his mouth, his fingers, his dick, he’ll go to any lengths to get you to cum. But face sitting is one of his favourite. Feeling your soft thighs sandwich his head while your sweet fluids melt on his tongue... It’s like heaven. And hearing your moans, feeling your body tremble and quiver above him, it’s too hot.

- Paulie loves being called a pervert. He may do that to everyone else around him as an insult but hearing your pretty voice call him something so humiliating does wonders to him.

- This man has a breeding kink, i just know it. The way Paulie ruts his hips into you, how desperately he’s forcing his cock so deep into you, he’s just begging to knock you up. Its awfully cute, seeing such a strong man grovel to you like that.. seeing him want nothing more then to fill you up.

- I can imagine Paulie loves when you wear cute clothing, it really gets him going. Whether something innocent like a frilly dress or something more sensual, a soft corset pushing up your bust. Paulie’s a rowdy guy, but he loves a gentle aesthetic, especially on his woman.

- If you tease Paulie in public, he won’t be able to contain himself. Even if you do something as simple as walk by the shipyard in a skirt, waving to your boyfriend and the other shipwrights. Boom. Paulie is instantly bricked up at the sight of your exposed legs. He tries his best to hide his undying lust for you, but always fails to do so as blood oozes from his nose. If you aren’t there to fix his ‘issue,’ he’ll rush off to a tool shed, jerking off to the thought of your skirt being pulled all the way up, flashing him a sight of your perverted underwear. But, if you stay to help, he’ll have his face buried in your chest whilst you jerk him off. Paulie wants nothing more then to be close to you.

- Paulie is 100% the type to smoke after sex. So, hopefully you can handle the scent of cigars. If you're a smoker too, he'll share it with you. He finds it relaxing after such a draining activity. Just being together, tangled in the sheets with smoke filling his lungs is oddly comforting.

- Paulie likes bringing his rigging skills into the bedroom, either tying you up or you tying him up. He doesn't care who does what, as long as it's what you fancy most. He personally looooves being tied up, as well as what comes with it. Having you mount him while his wrists are tied to the bed frame is just too much. But if you want to be tied up, he'll happily oblige. He'll tie your legs, preventing you from jerking your legs away while he indulges himself in your pussy.

- Paulie loves playing strip poker with you. He tries to show off his gambling skills around you, both to impress you and to get you stripped down to your socks. But... that almost never happens. Paulie has terrible luck with gambling, regardless of the stakes. He's usually the one who's stripped down by the first few hands played. How embarrassing...

[saved-fanfiction]

I am having respectful thoughts 👀

Someone gloriously sent this on my main blog, which reminded me to check settings for this side blog - so thank you.

Uhhhh yes. This. All of this. I think he'd absolutely be that dude to just appreciate the size difference between you.

Hand holding, massages, you in his shirt?

He's smitten.