A/N ::: I'm just going to come right out and say it, I love Kafka Hibino. He's so goddamn cute that I literally want to just eat him alive. This is my first time writing for him - though I've been thinking about it for ages. I hope you like it, @supersecretsaga And I apologize, I'm wholly incapable of writing without it exceeding 1k words. So, SORRY. I proofed this once on google docs and that's all I have in me today. Any gross errors that look like I didn't mean to do them, message me!
C/W ::: Human Kafka, F.reader, not a lot of swearing. I just don't get the sense that Kafka would swear unnecessarily. Maybe I'm wrong. My perception will probably change. Really, who cares. Um, P->V (unprotected), jumping the relationship gun (but, with him, I would, too.)
WC ::: 3,094 (about 7 3/4 pages on G-Docs).
MDNI UNDER THE CUT
Kafka Hibino was simple, through and through. But when he met you that day in the hospital, his whole life changed. He knew he'd never be the same man he was before he was admitted.
You're a nurse. You were great at your job, and you knew it. Though the first time you saw that big, dumb puppy-energy-giving man, you knew that you were a goner, as well.
He was admitted around 2 am. Settled in around 5 am. He was in a lot of pain from the fight he'd gotten into with the Kaiju around midnight. He had 2 broken arms, bruised ribs. A number of different things had happened to him.
Kafka would be in good hands, though. Really, really good hands.
Your hands.
**** 7:30 am ****
"Oh- oh my god. What was THAT!?" You pulled your hand from the large porcelain tub in his bathroom and squeezed the sponge out over his short dark hair.
Giggling, you blinked slowly because you couldn't deny the warmth that was spreading throughout your whole body. And not just between your thighs. No, this was something else entirely. His stupid haircut, his kind eyes and dumbass smile were hammering their way through your boundaries. The same boundaries you'd worked so hard over the years to build to not get emotionally attached to patients.
"You're an idiot, Mr. Hibino. A complete moron. Have you never been bathed before? That was just a little something extra to help loosen up your muscles, a quick massage. My goodness. It's as if you've never been pampered." You stood from where you were on your knees on the floor and shook your hands out, purposely getting water on his face - you hoped in his eyes - so you would have a reason to gingerly wipe it dry.
"Call me Kafka," he said, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched you grab the towel and stand over him.
"What?" You were confused. You didn't realize he'd been asking you something.
"Call me Kafka. It's my name, yeah?" He sounded so serious, so sincere. You nodded and wiped his face with the towel, noticing the small wrinkles as he smiled up at you.
Fuck. He's adorable and you're finding it harder and harder to stay professional.
"No. Your name is Mr. Hibino and that's what I'll be calling you. Ok? Mr. Hibino? Now, let's finish this bath and get you back in bed. The doctor will be coming by soon to check on you and he can give you another massage if you need it." You moved your hands to his shoulders, gently massaging them as you continued talking. "You've been through a lot, Mr. Hibino. Your body needs to heal."
He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back against the tub.
You kept massaging him, not stopping until he was almost asleep.
This sweet, gentle man, had a power over you that no one else did. And you weren't sure how to deal with it.
Quite a while later (sorry, storyline faux pas - I didn’t take into account healing time. But let’s just say that because he’s part Kaiju that he heals exceptionally fast. Ok? Ok!)*****
**** 1 month later, 10 pm ****
You hadn't seen Kafka since the morning bath you'd given him. He was discharged and sent home to continue his recovery. As a nurse, you knew he would be alright. But as a woman, you were left feeling empty and wanting more of him.
You were home that night, exhausted, but unable to sleep. You tried to keep your thoughts away from the big, gentle man who had stolen your heart with his kind words and warm smile, but it was impossible.
Your mind drifted to the way he looked at you as you bathed him.
How his body was perfectly balanced between the hard muscles he'd earned in his training and the slight squish around his mid-section that you wanted nothing more than to run your fingertips over.
His arms were thick and strong. Yet not battle-worn. He didn't have too many scars, though they'd have only added to his appeal.
His legs were muscular, too. Thick and strong, like his arms. His thighs were something else, something you found yourself daydreaming about wrapping your own legs around.
You wondered what his cock would feel like inside of you. You snuck a glance when he was in the tub. You knew his eyes were closed when you looked at it, bobbing away in the water. You're certain he was hard. Otherwise, you prayed he wasn't a grower because any more than that and you'd be the one being admitted to the hospital.
You thought about his hands on your body, squeezing your breasts and sliding between your thighs. You imagined what it would be like to feel his fingers inside of you, massaging you and bringing you to orgasm faster than you could imagine.
You rubbed your clit slowly, gently. You couldn't bring yourself to fuck yourself with a vibrator or even your own fingers. You didn't want to give yourself that much pleasure.
You wanted it to be Kafka.
You wanted him to be the one to take you, to fuck you, to make love to you.
You rolled over onto your stomach, burying your face into your pillow as you yelled out in frustration.
"This is ridiculous. This is so stupid. I - I'm not some teenager who can't control herself." You stood and walked to your closet, grabbing some comfortable clothes and your purse and left for the mini mart down the street from your house.
Chocolate was the next best thing you could think of. Other than, of course, Kafka running his hands all over your body. But what are the chances of that.
What are the chances of that?
The night air was cool against your skin. A nice contrast to the heat you'd built up while thinking about him.
You grabbed a pint of chocolate ice cream and began walking back home.
You felt better, slightly, but still very much wanting.
**** 10:30 pm ****
You were halfway through your pint and the movie when you heard a knock on your front door. "Coming, hold on, please." You walked to the door and looked through your peephole to see who it was. "Oh, you're fucking kidding me. What on earth are you doing here, Mr. Hibino?" The smile on your face was causing the back of your head to strain. You couldn't hide that you felt like your prayers had been answered all at once. But at the same time, you didn't want Kafka to see this look of bliss on your flushed face.
"Call me Kafka," he said softly, leaning against the doorway and smiling back at you. "And I wanted to see you again. May I? Come in, I mean. Please?"
You stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him.
You watched as he looked around your living room. You could tell he was a little nervous, but so were you.
You'd never felt this way about a patient before. Ex-patient, you had to remind yourself. He was no longer under your care.
"Ok, Kafka." He smiled at the way you said his name. He'd never heard anything like it before. "Would you like some ice cream? I was just sitting here, eating some, watching a bad movie." You chuckled, showing him the container and spoon.
"Sure. I'd love some." He sat down right in the middle of your couch, and you sat next to him.
You handed him the ice cream and he dug in.
You both ate in silence for a few minutes until he said, "This is good."
You nodded and smiled. "It is. Sometimes chocolate, um, well, sometimes it's the only thing that helps. Y'know?" You looked at him, noticing the way his lips had turned up into a smirk. "What? What did I say?"
"Nothing, nothing. You're just ... you just ... h-here. Can I? There's a little bit of ... right ..." He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip so slowly and then sucked the ice cream off. "... there. You just had a little on your lip. 'S gone now."
You weren't sure what to do. Your body was telling you to jump on him and fuck him until neither of you could walk. Your brain was telling you to wait and see what other kind of sweet nothings he'd do for you.
So, you waited. You had no idea your self-control was this well-honed. Again, you’d never been tested like this before.
But Kafka was different.
"You're beautiful, y'know." He whispered, looking at the floor like he was trying to burn holes in it with his eyes. He turned his head, leaning in a little bit closer than you were to him at the hospital. His hand moved to rest on your knee. And he said, "I've never met anyone like you before. I thought I was just going lay in the hospital bed until I was better. But you showed me kindness and care. I know you were just doing your job, but I'm grateful that you were there. That you were … you."
You didn't say anything. You were too busy trying to keep your heart from leaping out of your chest. You're sure if he'd looked, he'd see your tits jumping ever so slightly from the heaviness of the beating.
"Thank you for that. Thank you for everything you've done for me, Miss. I don’t know your first name. I’m embarrassed at how many ‘L/N’ households I went to looking for you.”
Your hand shot up to cover the smile that immediately bloomed across your lips. "That's not important. It's Y/N. And you're welcome. I'm happy I was able to help you. I didn't expect you to come here, though. I'm glad you did." You shifted, moving your knee so that your legs were touching. He didn't move his hand. He held it there, squeezing your knee gently.
"I didn't think I'd come here either. But I couldn't stop thinking about you. I know it's not appropriate for me to be here, but I had to see you again. I wanted to say thank you, in person." He turned his head and looked at you. You leaned in closer to him, your noses almost touching. "And maybe something else. Something that would make you feel as special as you made me feel when you took care of me."
You were so close to him you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. He smelled like the air before a storm, and whiskey. But a little liquid courage never killed anyone.
"Kafka," you whispered, reaching up and touching his face. You were fidgeting with a small piece of his hair as you rest your forehead against his. "Kafka. I ..."
He sat up abruptly, "Oh shit! You're not married, are you? I should have asked, I'm so sorry for showing up here so late. Without any warning." He bowed to you and started for the door.
"Kafka! I'm not married. I'm not even seeing anyone right now. Please, come back. Come sit." You stood and took his hand, leading him back to the couch. "I was going to say I've never felt this way about a patient before. You make me feel like there's something more to life than just my job."
He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for any signs of dishonesty. He couldn't find any. "So, you don't mind me coming here?"
You shook your head. "I don't mind you coming here at all. I'm glad you did. I was just surprised, that's all. Please don't leave. Not yet." You held his hand tighter and urged him back down on the couch with you.
Pulling him back in, kissing him gently on the lips. "I've been wanting you to do that since the first time I saw you, too. But you in terrible pain when you came in. How did you have the presence of mind to want to kiss me when you were so badly beaten up?"
He laughed, "I wasn't beaten up, per se. I just didn't come out on top." He paused for a second, and then continued, "And the pain wasn't as bad as you think. I'm used to it. It's a part of my job. But being here with you, it's like I can forget all of that. And just be me. Kafka. Nothing else."
You leaned in and kissed him again, this time with more urgency. His lips parted slightly, and you could taste the chocolate on his tongue. You moaned softly, shifting so that your legs were wrapped around him. He pulled you onto his lap, and you straddled him, grinding yourself against his crotch.
"Oh my god," he moaned, pulling back slightly and looking into your eyes. "Y/N. You're so beautiful." He reached up and touched your cheek with his thumb, rubbing it gently.
You pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. His chest was chiseled and smooth, his abs flexing slightly under his cute belly as he breathed heavily.
You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his back, feeling every muscle and every scar. You kissed his neck, biting it gently and sucking on his skin. "Kafka, I want you. I want you so much."
He pulled your shirt off and threw it next to his. "I'm gonna make you feel so good that you'll forget all about chocolate."
You stopped, pulling back from his face, and you laughed so hard for the first time in ages. "Oh, that might be the most serious thing anyone has ever said to me. Challenge accepted!"
He pulled you back into him and kissed you, his hands reaching around to squeeze your ass as you ground yourself against him. He picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, gently laying you on the bed before climbing on top of you.
You unclasped your bra and tossed it to the floor, allowing him to see your breasts. He gasped as quietly as he could manage, running his hands over them and squeezing them gently. "You're so beautiful. You know that?"
He leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it gently as his fingers worked at your pants. He slid them off, revealing your black lace panties. You'd never felt so exposed in your life. And you loved it.
"Kafka, please," you moaned as he sucked harder on your nipple, his hand moving down to rub your clit through your panties. "Please fuck me. I need you. I need you so bad."
He pulled back, looking at your face. "You want me to fuck you? You want me to make you cum? Oh-hoh baby, I will. I might even cum before you do! But don't lose faith. It's just, well, it's been a while? I guess? But that's not important right now." He leaned in and kissed you again, biting your bottom lip and sucking on it gently.
"It's ok, Kafka. I want you. I don't care if you cum before me. I just want you inside me. Please, please." You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You couldn't believe you were begging like this, but you didn't care. You wanted him so badly.
He nodded and pulled your panties off, throwing them to the floor. He pushed his own pants down and pulled his boxers off with them, his cock set free.
You gasped at the sight. It was so much more than what you saw when he was in the tub. "Jesus, I-"
He looked down, "Oh. That?" He turned his head away, "Yeah, sorry. I'm sure you've seen um, better? But I make up for it in other ways! I promise, y/n. Just give me a chance."
You shook your head and smiled, "That's not at all what I'm trying to say here. There's not a doubt in my mind you won't fuck me stupid, Kafka." You giggled and reached your arms out to pull him down against you.
He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit as he kissed your neck.
You moaned, "Ohhh, fuck. Yes. Do that." Your hand moved to his ass, squeezing it as he rocked against you.
He pushed himself inside of you slowly, stretching you out as he went. The slight sting you noticed dissipated as quickly as the onset. You moaned, your nails digging into his back as he started to thrust faster. "Kafka, oh my god. That feels so fucking good. More. I want more, please."
He grunted, his cock sliding in and out of you as you arched your back, grinding yourself against him. He sucked on your nipple again, his tongue flicking over it as he fucked you harder and faster.
You couldn't believe how much he was making you feel. You hadn't had sex in so long, but this was different. This was something else entirely. He was with you. He wasn't just there to get himself off. You'd been with guys like that before and they, more often than not, left you with a (literal) bad taste in your mouth.
Your breathing quickened, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. And the closer you got, the harder your nails dug into his muscular back. "Kaf-hoh shit. Y-that ... pl- fuck. 'M gonna cum ... very … very soon."
He pulled back slightly, looking at your face as you bit your lip, your eyes rolling back. "Me too, baby. Me too. You're so tight, and you feel so good. I can't believe I'm inside of you. Fuck. I'm gonna cum, Y/N. Oh shit, I'm gonna cum." He grunted again, his cock twitching inside of you as he came hard, filling you up.
You came with him, your pussy squeezing around his cock as he kept fucking you, slowing his thrusts until he stopped completely.
"Fuck," you whispered, reaching up and touching his face gently. "Kafka."
He smiled and kissed you softly. "RIGHT!?"
You laughed through a yawn at the energy he had when you first met. “Stay? Stay with me. I don’t want you to go. Tonight. Ever.”
He held you close to him, kissing the top of your head and brushing your hair down as you drifted off to sleep against his warm chest.
"Just try’n get rid of me, y/n."
@darkstarlight82 @katkusuo @kazutora-kurokawa
@arlerts-angel @southside-otaku @trevengersprincess
@bakubunny @reiners-milkbiddies
***If you guys absolutely hate this anime or don't give a shit, please please let me know so I don't keep writing and tagging you in stuff you don't care about! Thanks, mooties! <3***
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i would love trans crocodile but im very cynical that oda would write him in a respectful manner. thats not even thinking of how horrible that one portion of the one piece fandom would treat him
Yeah the fandom sucks and I'm going to strangle everyone (including the cishets who claim to be trans allies and then use "Crocomom")
But with Oda it's weird because like. The more I think about it, the more I'm like... 50/50 about Oda being able to actually deliver good, respectful trans masc rep.
Like I've posted about this before but One Piece does have this on-going theme of having characters "stuck in wrong bodies" or "having one's body changed" (sometimes reversably, sometimes irreversably; sometimes against their will, sometimes consentually). Which, in theory, in my mind, does kind of signal that on some level Oda understands the idea of being "the wrong sex" (whether or not that's a good way to explain The Trans Experience™ is a whole different subject but it's an old fashioned explanation that Oda would probably be/is familiar with)
But at the same time, while the concept pops up again and again in One Piece, Oda doesn't really dwell too deep into the idea of what that's like. Like, emotionally. How it feels like to like, get turned into a toy or be a child who gets aged 20 years or to get turned into a cyborg or a giant child or have parts of your body permanently turned into animal parts (sometimes with a will of their own) etc
And like. Part of me understands why, Oda does tend to want to focus on writing a story he thinks teenaged boys would be interested in reading, and he has often stated he wants to have fun with his story too (like that's partially why Luffy's a Rubber Man, because Oda thought giving Luffy a ridiculous ability would make him more fun to write and draw long-term, which is valid as hell)
This is why for example Oda has avoided doing any romances in OP, and while there are dark themes in the story, often he has done his best to avoid making them too blatant, as some things would be too mature for his youngest readers (like, for example until Kuma's backstory, it was never explicitly stated what would happen to the slave wives of the Tenryuubito, even saying it was "implied" would be pushing how that subject had been treated until now)
So like. Because of that, I understand why Oda hasn't dwelled into The Feelings™ part much/at all despite the "stuck in the wrong body" narrative appearing time and time again
Either Oda thinks it'd be too boring either for himself or his readers, or he hasn't dwelled into it because he doesn't really understand gender dysphoria and can't relate to the experience (despite how often it shows its face in OP). Or it could be both, even
The thing is though, as OP has gone on, while I wouldn't say Oda has "broken his writing rules", Kuma's backstory alone has pushed them to a new limit with the love-that-never-was story and the all-but-explicitly-stated storytelling.
So a part of me wonders, if Crocodile is trans, could Oda actually like... take a slightly deeper look into his feelings and explore his queer experience? ('Cause god knows, if Crocodad Real, then there really would be a literal coming out-story built into his backstory that would be extremely unavoidable, and as I've mentioned before, the fact that we haven't gotten to learn almost anything about his backstory yet is Kinda Fucking Sus)
Also I do want to mention how... like Oda gets a lot of bad rap when it comes to queer rep in One Piece, but the more I think about it, I think it's more an issue with the terminology and how translators have gone about either localizing it, or more often than not, leaving it unlocalized
'Cause like. Yes the "okama" would be horrible trans rep but... really... they're not trans representation. They're representation for draq queens. Piss poor draq rep, but still, they're draq queens. And just like our very real life drag performers; some of them are cishets. Some of them are gender non-conforming gay men. Some of them are nonbinary*. Some of them are trans women.
Obviously lumping all of these people into one group is kinda offensive (which is why "okama" is (as far as I understand it) such an unpopular term even amongst queer people in Japan), and the way Oda often chooses to draw these characters looks no different to how gender criticals choose to present trans women in their propaganda.
*Like Bon-chan, who explicitly states they are both male and female. And Iva-chan, who switches between boy-mode and girl-mode from time to time, could arguably be called genderfluid (though any specific terminology is up to debate). Both are nonbinary draq queens.
And yet, despite all that. It can not be understated how if you put aside the nameless background gag-characters, Oda does treat the actual, proper queer characters with respect. Everyone would agree that Bon-chan is an absolute hero, we would all die for them. Iva-chan (and Inazuma too) is explicitly presented in a heroic light, seen as someone who helps people and fights for justice (with the Revs)
And then there's the first binary trans characters we've actually gotten, Okiku and Yamato. And I'm pretty sure we would all agree Okiku is 10/10 perfect trans fem representation (I am not entirely serious, I'm not trans fem so I can't speak for trans women here, it's just that I can't see anything Horrendously Wrong with how Okiku is presented within the story- not actually perfect but all things considdered, damn good). She is stunning, people around her (INCLUDING SANJI!!) don't just view her as a woman but would go out of their way to date her (as in, she is seen as "desirable", and not as some kind of a disgusting freak to avoid), she is heroic and sweet and kind and just. IDK I love her
And while I'm sure many trans mascs would agree Yamato may not be how they want to be seen by the world (though having Yamato ID as a man while having the biggest moobs is surely validating for a lot of people, including anybody who might not want or be able to get top surgery and/or HRT), again, he is only presented as heroic within the narrative and respected by the characters around him, Luffy especially, which is by far the most important part; the protagonist going out of his way to be respectful of trans characters does represent the values of the story.
And like.
Think about how Oda has treated Crocodile so far.
Like, although we're all having a bit of a laugh over the whole Cross Guild thing, Oda is still treating him as a cool character whom he presents seriously and treats with respect. Like Oda wants the readers to see Crocodile as at least a little bit cool. So I can't imagine him pulling a full 180 with how Croc would be treated in the story if he was revealed to be trans, especially when the potential foreshadowing for that was laid out in the story years ago already.
All this to say; Oda is not perfect at all, but considdering the things he has gotten right so far, I think there is hope he could pull it off. Because Oda is for Queer Liberation.
Really, my only concerns would be whether or not there's a risk Crocodile could get somehow detrans'd during the story (I'm praying the Haki theory isn't an option, really Doc Q might be the only true risk here), if he's stealth and that got presented as "a wrong thing to do" (which I'd hope not, like our previous queer characters have been okay with being openly queer but that may have been more for the readers than anything else. At least, I hope, god knows if Crocodile is and wants to be stealth trans then that's his right and he shouldn't have to out if he doesn't want to, and yeah, I don't want him to be demonized within the narrative for being stealth (if he's stealth, for all we know he could be out)) and like, most importantly, what'd end up being Crocodile's "motivation" for transitioning in the first place
Like. God. I just. I don't want there to be a twist where Crocodile transitioned because "being a woman was weak" or because he "wanted to be acknowledged by Whitebeard" ('cause WB doesn't take women into his crew) or "the scar in his face made him so ugly he decided he should be a man instead" (seen unironic Redditors suggest that. Almost lost my mind) or something
Like I hope someone's at least tried to explain gender dysphoria to Oda. Like the man does have actual queer friends in real life (some of whom inspired characters in OP), so I'm hoping at least someone's tried to explain the feelings that come with The Trans Experience™ to him so that, if Crocodile's trans, then Oda can actually try to base his reasoning to transition on those feelings instead of any stupid "reasons" that no actual queer person would relate to
But it all just boils down to... Is Oda willing to actually dwell into those feelings and explore them in the story.
It... it really could go either way with Oda
So yeah. Anon, I'm with you, I'd be lying if I didn't admit I was at least A Little Worried. But also... I want to be hopeful. Because I do believe there is reason to be hopeful.
Only time will tell how it'll go
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