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httpwintersoldier · 7 months

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『jolly sailor bold. || shanks x reader』

[PART 1 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - SHANKS VER.

[BUGGY VER.] [MIHAWK VER.] [SANJI VER.]

pairing: shanks x f!reader words: lenghtyyyyy summary: your curse leads you to a certain red-haired pirate that ends up taking you hostage for the rest of your life. And you very much agree with the decision. angst; smut; fluff.

You had been cursed as a young child. A devil fruit user with the ability of merging whatever they had in sight had taken you from your mother and merged you with a fish. A cruel revenge plan taken out on an innocent child that was made to forever swim the ocean.

That had obviously changed you, in more ways than physical. You couldn't establish contact with other fish, you couldn't make friends with humans (who thought you were a freak and a monster) and there were no other merefolk (not to your knowledge, at least.

The insanity of the lonely life had taken a toll on you. You had begun luring in lonely pirates and seamen, only to tear them apart and eat them before they realized you weren't human and tried to hunt you.

It had been going on for decades, although your body seemed to not age at all, more parts seemed to be growing in. At first it was just the long, scaly tail that had almost of a metallic blue and green shine to it. Then your eyes fully shifted to a charcoal black colour, and your hair followed suit. And, in the past years, your arms grew fins and your fingers grew webbing, both a pale green colour.

Your years of solitude were cut short when you found a certain red haired pirate.

The top of your head was above the water as you watched the ship. The captain had only one arm and three scars on his left eye. He seemed pretty goofy, along with the rest of the crew. You almost felt bad for killing them. Almost.

You dove down into the cold sea, scratching the bottom of the ship with your nails that were borderline claws at that point, until you found a tall, wide rock in the direction the boat was headed.

You sat on the rock, in such a way that it would hide your tail as best as possible, and began singing with your enchanting voice.

"My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold..."

You could hear a ruckus coming from the ship, several feet running on the old, creaking boards of the deck, and soon saw a plethora of men (dinner) standing on the edge, looking at you.

"...there is nothing can console me, but my Jolly Sailor bold..."

You heard more feet scaterring and several voices yelling "Behold Man!" and you smirked devilishly.

As the ship approached, the red haired male you had seen before jumped on the rock you sat on. Big mistake. He knelt down a couple steps away from you.

"Hello little lady, what are you doing here? Are you injured?" The man asked, with a deep voice.

You looked at him through your eyebrows and smirked.

"No, but you're about to be." You replied in a husky voice.

You lunged at the man, taking him under water with you so his mates wouldn't attack you and, as you dragged the male down to drown him, you made the mistake of looking him in the eye. And, as you did so, you felt yourself falter, and your body getting weaker, and weaker. Your eyelids began shutting against their will, and you saw black as your body went limp.

When you woke up, you were startled. Once you found you could, you opened your eyes widely and began struggling, looking for the man you'd caught who should've been floating somewhere next to you, only to find that you were stuck in some sort of wooden tub, your long tail hanging out of it.

You felt as if something was weighing on your chest and you couldn't breathe. Panic. You were panicking. Last time you felt that way you were being thrown in the water by your mother.

"You're awake." A deep voice said beside you.

You carefully looked to the side to find the red haired man you had taken into the sea with you.

"Who... who are you?... Why am I here? How am I here?..." You asked, more to yourself than him, with a dry throat.

You coughed after you did so, and the man handed you water. You looked at the glass carefully, not trusting it. The red haired male sighed and rolled his eyes as he took the cup and sipped on it, to show it wasn't poisoned, before handing back to you.

"I'm Shanks. I'm the Captain of the ship. The "why" would be because you tried to kill me. As for the how... let's just say I'm good at persuading people."

You laughed, after drinking the whole cup in one go.

"Sometimes girls get hungry..." You said, biting your lip.

Shanks simply scoffed.

"You are brave, for someone who's in your position to be talking that way..."

"What can I say..." You shrugged.

There was silence, as Shanks admired your body.

"What are you anyway?..." He asked, leaning closer on the tub.

The way he came closer to you showed how unafraid he was of you, of your... exquisite body, so to speak. That was new, you quite enjoyed it, had he not taken you captive.

"Call it a freak of nature, if you will." You replied, as you shrugged

After the man pressed you once more about your origins and anatomy, you decided to answer truthfully.

"I was cursed. Well, that's the cool way of putting it... Some weird Devil Fruit user has the ability to merge stuff together, be it dead, inanimate or alive. I was the result of an affair, from what I could gather in the fight between this woman and my mom. The wife of the man my mom had an affair with found her and decided to punish her by merging me with a fish I guess... In the beginning it was just small changes, some gills and scales, had to spend a lot of time in the bathub but nothing too hard, so my mom attempted to raise me like this. She gave up when the tail began to develop and threw me in the ocean..."

Shanks' eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were set on your fish-like characteristics as he heard your explanation.

"And you resorted to eating humans?..."

You shrugged once more. It was your go-to answer, it seemed. No better way to show indifference.

"It's either humans or fish. Both of them are part of me, but only one of them cursed me, then cast me away and treated me as a monster."

"But not all humans are to blame for your... curse." The man tried to reason.

"I was also not to blame for my mother's mistakes. Yet here we are." You replied quickly, looking him in the eye with your orbs, devoid of any colour.

Shanks sighed and slapped his thighs as he stood up.

"Hey! Wait!" You semi-yelled, making Shanks stop and turn around "What's to happen to me? What will you do with me?"

"Seems like there is only one thing to do..." He said, sighing and placing his hand on his hip "We'll find the Devil Fruit user and get them to undo this."

Your eyes shined for a moment and your face lit up, before reminding yourself that the race you were talking to was untrustworthy, and the cold expression that was so familiar to you returned to your faced.

"Why. What's in it for you? Aren't you going to sell me to some freak show? Or keep me as a pet?"

Shanks sighed again.

"The only freak show master I know doesn't have me in great consideration, and you talk too much to be a pet and are not that useful." Ouch. "It seems like we'd be saving a lot of lives by helping you. Including your own."

He didn't give you time to reply, as the Captain left the room and closed the door.

You huffed, and relaxed in the tub, realizing that you had been tense this whole time. There was nothing you could do but trust these men now... It was nearly impossible for you to hop out of the tub and drag yourself out on the deck and into the ocean without being heard or seen flopping around, and the porthole next to you was far too small for you to fit through it...

As the sun set and darkness enveloped the room, the red haired man stepped in with a light being held by his mouth and a tray on his hand.

"Do you usually carry stuff with you mouth?" You joke with a teasing smirk.

The man set down the light and the tray, and pushed back the cape to reveal he had only one arm.

You felt embarrassed for a second, but wouldn't let it show (obviously).

"Seems like someone got to you before me." You joked with a simpathetic smile.

The man let out a belly laugh and picked up the tray again, handing it to you.

"You're a cheeky one for sure..." The captain commented and sat on a chair in the corner of the room.

You stared at the tray, it was some sort of meat you obviously didn't recognize and bread.

"This is what?" You asked, a little disgusted, pointing at the sead animal in front of you.

"It's chicken legs. You know, food from an animal that isn't either part of you." The man joked with a smile, pointing between your human torso and fish tail, and you laughed a little.

You picked it up carefully and examined it. You gave up the poison suspicions, if he wanted to kill you he would've done so. You took a small bite, waiting for a nasty taste to hit your tongue, but surprisingly you found it delicious. You widened your eyes and looked at him in shock, before devouring the meal in front of you.

"I take it you enjoyed the food?" Shanks asks with a chuckle, as he raised his eyebrows.

"It was edible." You replied jokingly, licking your fingers.

After taking the tray, the man remained in the room, surprisingly.

"You're staying?" You asked, cocking your head and blinking rapidly, as your eyes were used to a lot more moisture.

"Well, only one person keeps guard at night and I don't quite trust you to not go out there and kill him. I think I'm the only one that can take care of you." He said and winked.

You felt hot. Why did you feel hot? The bath water was cold. Just as you thought about his wink, you shivered.

Shanks raised an eyebrow and looked at the water.

"Is it too cold?"

Before you could reply, he stood up and dipped his hand in the water. Having his hand so close to you... So close to touching your body... It sent a strange feeling through your body, and you didn't know how to react.

"It's... fine. We don't have heaters in the ocean."

Shanks knelt down next to the tub so he could be face-to-face with you.

"Yeah, but you also don't have still water. That," he said, pointing at the water you sat in "will get pretty disgusting if it's not changed, unlike the ocean."

You looked at the water and it was safe to say the man was right. The sediments entagled in your gills and scales from sleeping on the sand, as well as some algae that had gotten stuck to you began staining the water as it cleaned you.

Shanks, realizing you had silently agreed with him, laid a towel on the ground and picked you up over his shoulder. You shrieked and grabbed onto his shirt, not being used to being carried (or manhandled). The captain slowly placed you on the towel, and you watched as he cleaned the tub and replaced the dirty water.

"Why are you going through all of this trouble? It doesn't make sense. What's in it for you?" You asked, seemingly getting defensive all of the sudden.

Shanks scoffed and looked over his shoulder as he worked.

"You have to stop thinking there's something in it for me, sweetheart. I just think you haven't been given a fair chance. Before labeling you as anything, I want to make sure you have a fair chance to become the person you think you should be."

You were out of words. Apologies and "thank you's" were not your strong suit, so you kept quiet. The captain took the lack of response as acceptance, and finished the job.

You could very easily flop back into the tub - you had been climbing up rocks and jumping from them all your life, after all - but you enjoyed it when Shanks picked you up and laid you down in such a careful way, so you didn't protest.

You spent the next three months of the search for the Devil Fruit user listening intently to Shanks' pirate stories and (unconsciously) fawning over him every night when he came to watch over you.

After the first month he trusted you to stay alone, but he woudn't leave you. He'd rather have your company. The Captain loved the way your big eyes shined as you looked at him, paying attention to every of his words.

Both your feelings were very obvious, and had anyone been in the room with the two of you they would've called you out on it. But that was the best part of your "sessions": it felt like a secret. It felt so intimate, it was honestly ironic how either of you failed to realize how infatuated you were with each other.

"Y/N!" The Captain said happily as he walked in the room and knelt down next to the tub.

You crossed your arms on the edge of the tub and laid your head on them.

"Yes, Captain?"

You had began calling him Captain as a joke, but he not-so-secretly loved it, and it showed: he couldn't keep the big, stupid smile off of his face whenever he heard you call him Captain.

"We found her!" The man said, holding your face with his hand "We found the devil fruit user!"

A wave of emotions washed over you. First you were happy, ecstatic even. But then came the panic, fear, uncertainty... And it showed.

"Y/N, what's wrong? You look... disappointed?" Shanks asked, not quite sure how to decipher your look.

You opened your mouth to speak, but you didn't know what to say or how to express what you were feeling - it was all brand new. Thankfully, Shanks gave you time.

"I just..." you started "I don't know. What will happen next? I don't know how to live among people, will I even like it? Will I even be able to walk? Will I miss the sea?" Tears streamed down your face and you were in a panicked state as you thought of all things that could go wrong.

Shanks hugged you and caressed your semi-wet hair.

"Sweetheart," you learned to love that nickname, it always put you at ease "I can't force you to go back to who you were, but I think you'd be infinitely happier on land, with people to talk to, with people to have fun with, with... someone to love." Shanks' voice brokw a little, as he thought of you living happily side by side with someone that wasn't him, but he cleared his throat and carried on "You can always choose to swim in the sea, and you can choose to walk on land and live as you were made to. I know it must be scary, all change is scary, but you won't have to be alone anymore"

By the time he finished, your heart was beating fast for different reasons and your breathing had calmed down.

When you pulled away from the hug, your faces were mere centimiters apart. You could both feel the tension and the attraction, but none of you dared move. You were almost sure you were both feeling the same.

"What do you say, Y/N?" He whispered.

You smiled widely and nodded.

"Let's do it."

The next few days of sailing were intense and overcome with emotion, but it wasn't long after your conversation with Shanks that the red-haired man came in with a big smile. He didn't even bother grabbing a towel - he was far too excited for that. The man picked you up, not caring that he got drenched in tub water, and carried you out to the deck.

The sun hurt your eyes and it took you a while to get accostumed, but the strangest part was Shanks.

"Do it." He said, turned to someone you could not see since you were still flung over his shoulder.

His voice was cold, demanding and soulless. You had never heard it this way, and you had a hard time assimilating that it was, in fact, the Shanks that you knew (and loved).

There was a long silence, it seemed like no one dared move, speak or breathe.

Suddenly, a woman cleared her throat, and you felt as if your body was being ripped apart. You gripped Shanks' back and tried not to make noise, but you couldn't help the toe-curling scream that left your mouth.

You could feel your legs slowly separating, and after a few excruciating minutes your body fell to the ground weakly.

"Y/N! Y/N?" Shanks called, hovering over you and cupping your cheek.

You opened my eyes and looked down at your legs, arms and hands.

"Legs!" You yelled happily and looked up at Shanks "Shanks I have legs!"

Shanks wrapped his arm around your waist and spun you around.

"Shit! It worked!" He said, looking at your face, still holding you up by the waist, as he was afraid you wouldn't be able to stand on your legs just yet.

As he looked down, Shanks realized you were (obviously) naked, and that your body was glued to his. The Captain blushed and fought off any... improper thoughts - he surely wished he had brought the towel.

The man cleared his throat and wrapped his cape around you as he carried you inside and ordered his crew to escort the Devil Fruit user back to the port.

Shanks sat you on a chair on his room and looked through his drawers for some clean clothes,

"Uh here- this ought to fit you."

His cheeks were red (as were yours) and he looked away as you put on his large shirt and a pair of loose pants.

"Can you walk?" The Captain asked.

You gripped the sides of the chair nervously.

"I don't... I don't know."

Shanks silently held out his hand, inviting you to try. You took it and slowly stood up. Your legs were a little wobbly and your walk was a little unsure and weak, but you sure could still do it. Muscle memory from before-fish-time, you assumed.

"I did it!" You said, wrapping your arms around him.

"You did it!" He cheered as well, wrapping his arm around your waist.

When you pulled away from the hug, your faces were close, and after all those years of luring men, you had never wanted to kiss one until Shanks came along.

"Now you can go resume your life back in your hometown!" The man said with a smile.

You stumbled away from him, suddenly finding the strenght to stand on your own.

"What?" You asked, incredulous.

"You can... go! You can live your life again, Y/N." He repeated, not understanding your reaction.

You scoffed, hurt and disappointed. You'd think that after spending every single night together for three months the reaction would be different. You thought Shanks felt the same about you, you thought he'd pick you up, spin you around, kiss you and ask you to stay on the ship, but no. The second you took a couple steps, he was ready to send you on your way.

"Yeah. That's probably best if I go. I'll leave right away."

You turned around, exited the room and slammed the door shut, leaving a confused Shanks behind. You wobbled away as fast as you could, using the walls of the ship as help, persistently fighting off the tears.

"Y/N! Wait! You're leaving now?" He asked, chasing after you.

"Well you want me gone! Might as well start now!" You said while walking.

Shanks grabbed your wrist and you tried to free yourself from it, but his grasp was firm.

"Y/N can we- Y/N can you stop struggling please? Y/N-" When the Captain got tired of asking, he picked you up and brought you to his room, throwing you on the bed as he closed the door with his foot.

"What is wrong with you!?" He roared, looking down at you with a look you couldn't decipher.

You stood up weakly.

"What's wrong with me!? What's wrong with you!" You countered, looking at him with the same mix of emotions running through you.

"Me!? I got you your body back! I freed you! And all I get is a cold shoulder and not even a goodbye? Maybe you are a cold hearted monster after all!"

Silence.

Silence as those words hit you like a brick and Shanks realized what had left his mouth. Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably for the first time in over a decade.

"Y/N-"

He was cut off by you trying to reach the door without another word. The Captain stood between you and the door.

"Y/N please I'm sorry I didn't mean-"

"Let me leave! Let me leave! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" You yelled at the top of your lungs, banging on his chest with closed fists out of frustration.

"Please Y/N, I'm begging you! I'm- I'm sorry! I was hurt!"

"Oh you were hurt? That's rich!" You said, laughing cynically.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked, more calmly.

You stumbled backwards and let yourself fall on the bed, sitting down since you weren't used to standing for long.

"You spent three months with me, every night. You were the only person I ever shared anything with. And then the first chance you get... You want me to leave? To send me away? I-Is that all I am? A project?"

Shanks knelt in front of you, taking your face in his hand like he had done many times before, but this time, it held a completely different meaning.

"Y/N... Is that what you think? You genuinely think I want you to go?" His thumb wiped your tears as he looked into your glossy eyes.

"You... don't? Then why did you say that?..."

Shanks chuckled and looked away for a second before looking back at you.

"Y/N, I want you to stay by my side every day until I die of some stupid reason." You and him cracked a smile at the small joke "I obviously didn't want you to leave, never did. I dreaded this day because I thought you'd want to leave... to be free to explore, find yourself and finally get out of this ship."

You cupped his face gently and felt him lean into your touch.

"Shanks... this is my home. You're my home. Plus, what better placed to explore in than a fucking ship!" I said with a smile and laughed.

Shanks retributed the smile, twice as big, and laughed as well.

"Hey little lady! Language!" He jokingly told you off.

You stared into each other's eyes as your heads tilted ever so slightly. That was the moment. It felt right. It felt perfect.

Your lips touched slightly, and you pulled away just as quickly, trying to process the moment. But when you realized how much you wanted it, how much you needed it, you grabbed him by his collar and pulled him closer, smashing your lips together. The kiss was rough and passionate, full of emotion.

"Princess I planned on taking it slow, but if you keep this up I won't be able to hold back much longer." Shanks whispered as he left sloppy kisses on your neck.

"Don't hold back. I want to feel everything I've been missing out on." You moaned.

"Well in that case," Shanks paused, as he manhandled you to lay on the bed and spread your legs so he could hover over you "let's give the crew something to complain about, shall we?"

The Captain didn't wait for your response, he simply captured your lips in a rough kiss once more and yanked down the pants you were wearing. His fingers slowly travelled down your body and parted your folds. You watched as he then took them up to his mouth and licked them clean.

"Who knew you'd still be this wet outside of the water?"

You blushed and rolled your eyes with a smile at the cheeky jokes you'd come to love.

Shanks removed his cape and shirt, and then kissed down your body, slightly pushing up the shirt you wore to reach your stomach. He pondered on removing the shirt, but decided against it - the Captain thought you'd look good being fucked in his shirt.

He toyed around your pussy, biting and kissing several spots on your inner thighs until you were moaning desperately.

"Please touch me there Shanks..." You begged.

That was his cue to begin eating you out like a hungry man. You didn't even know how to describe the feeling, but that didn't stop you from trying.

"F-fuck! That's so good Shanks- so good!" You moaned, as one of your hands gripped his sheets and the other tugged on his hair.

He moaned at the feeling of his hair being pulled and you swore the vibrations made it even better.

Shanks slapped your inner thigh and gripped it over and over, and you could feel something in the pit of your stomach forming.

"Oh shit-" You moaned.

Your breathing accelerated and your eyes closed as your back arched, preparing for whatever was coming.

When suddenly Shanks' mouth pulled away.

"What did you do that for?" You whined, looking at him through your lashes.

Shanks hovered over you and kissed you deeply. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you both moaned into each other's mouths.

"If you're going to cum for the first time sweetheart, you're doing it on my cock."

His hand expertly pulled his cock out, and you whimper-gasped when you felt it hit your pussy.

You looked down at it and widened your eyes.

Shanks laughed and caressed your cheek.

"You okay there, princess?" The Captain asked as he ran the tip of his cock along your folds, making you hiss.

"I'm- I have mixed feelings. Is all that going in me? And it feels good?"

Shanks chuckled and pecked your lips.

"I'll go slow, doll. If it doesn't feel good, you tell me, okay?"

You nodded, giving him the greenlight.

Shanks pushed into you, very slowly, carefully watching your face through the whole thing, until he bottomed out inside you.

"How you doing, dollface?" The man asked.

He wanted nothing more than to ram into you until the only word you could say was his name, but the man was patient.

"It feels... odd. But good. K-keep going." You said, suddenly feeling hot and shy.

Shanks slowly moved in and out of you, finding a merciful pace to fuck you in. His hand found your ass, that he gripped as tightly as he could without hurting you, taking out some of the frustration of not being able to fuck you as he wanted.

It became especially hard when you began tightening around his cock and moaning his name.

"Go faster, please-"

Those words were the only thing he wanted to hear. Shanks slapped the aprt of your ass he could reach from that position and steadily picked up the pace in which he fucked you.

"S-shit this is so fucking good Shanks!"

Your praises and moans were the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, and the man wanted to hold on as long as he could, to listen to them as long as possible.

The way his shirt looked on you while he fucked you was an even bigger ego-boost for him. You looked his, you looked like you belonged to him. Wearing his shirt, on his bed, with his cock buried deep in you... Fuck, it was a sight to see.

He bent over as he fucked you, his hand grabbing the base of your neck as his lips left sloppy kisses and small bites all over it.

"I wanna fuck you dumb. I wanna fuck your pretty little pussy so hard Y/N."

You didn't know how much you enjoyed dirty talking until you heard him whisper those words to you, and the most sinful moan left your mouth.

"Do it! Shit- fuck!" You cursed as he fucked you at an impossible pace.

Skin slapping and squelching sounds filled the room along with your moans and groans, and the familiar feeling at the pit of your stomach returned. You had no way of knowing you were about to cum so you couldn't warn your partner, but Shanks knew. From the way your back arched once more, and your hand gripped the wrist that was gripping your thigh, he knew you were close.

Shanks tried to hold off his orgasm as long as possible, and it was painful but oh so worth it. Your pleasure-filled face, mouth agape followed by the incessant calls for his name in the form of moans... it was art.

He came right after, burying his cock deep in you, making sure it all stayed in. His mark.

The Captain pulled out of you with a groan and plopped next to you. You waited no time to roll over and lay your head on his chest, swinging your leg over one of his as he wrapped his arm around you, his hand laying on your butt softly.

"I don't think I'll be able to walk for a different reason now..." You said, smiling up at him.

"Hey you're getting good at making corny jokes like me!"

You laughed together, then a deep silence ensued.

"Shanks... did you mean that?"

He cocked his head slightly.

"About what? Wanting to fuck you dumb? Oh very much!"

You laughed and slapped his chest.

"No! About... really wanting me here... by your side."

Shanks smiled as he looked at you fondly and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"If you promise to tolerate me, I'd like to have you by my side until the end of my days."

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badgerbl00d · 7 months

Text

captain's girl

☆ characters: akagami no shanks

☆ up next: tbd

☆ summary: shanks has always had a soft spot for you but as he spends more time around you that feeling intensifies- he's fallen, and hard.. how will he confess?

☆ a/n: i lost the ask that originally submitted this but i loved this prompt! so so cute and always lovely to write for my favorite captain.. shanks nation rise!

Shanks hadn’t slept in days.

Shanks- an emperor, had been a pirate for decades and he knew well what it meant to be selfish. To be faced with all the treasure and beauty in the World and it not be enough until one had it all to himself. But he’d only ever seen it. In allies and enemies alike he had seen that corrupting burning want- no, need for something that drives one nearly mad. He’d seen fellow seamen be consumed by this bubbling and boiling desire that had always sickened him to think about.

And then there was you. Beautiful, strong-willed, and unafraid of pirates and men and danger and swords and, all of the sudden, he began feeling the symptoms of that dangerous selfishness. He’d watch you laugh with Benn, or cook with Lucky, or play cards with Yasopp and his chest would tighten. His nerves would begin to ebb and flow in uncertainty and the terrifyingly unfamiliar feeling of jealousy began to sprout within the captain of the Red Haired Pirates. He’d spend hours poring over a potential solution– something to make it go away. But everything he tried was useless. Any slight progress immediately crumbled the moment you walked by him. He’d found a nice girl on an island and flirted with her, buying her drinks, treating her special as the rest of the crew began to pour into the bar. It was working! She liked the same music as him and thought he was funny. But then you’d walked in with Beckman, your perfume immediately recognizable to him and he folded. You were entirely captivating to him, and bless him, he tried to listen to the girl in front of him and feign interest in what she was saying but all he could focus on was the sound of you laughing and thanking the men who were sending drinks your way. On a separate occasion, he’d taken a different approach. You were in a particularly cheeky mood and not the most prone to taking orders, so he got frustrated. He leant into that frustration, barking at you for not listening. But you just rolled your eyes and begrudgingly got up to do what he was asking. As you walked past him, you raked a fingernail across his chest and offered assistance if he needed “any help de-stressing.” And with a wink you were off. After that little incident, he could hardly sleep and was quite literally plagued by (very inappropriate) thoughts of you and decided it would be best if he didn’t do anything for a while. This had been going on for months now. A one sided game of cat and mouse that Shanks did not want to be playing, after all, he wasn't used to playing the role of mouse. Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

But he was realizing there was no escape. Constantly you teased him, tempted him, lured him, all to act like nothing the next moment. His head was spinning. Just this morning, you ran into him at breakfast and asked if he wanted to go into town with you. He came up with some half assed excuse and tried his hardest to keep his composure when you pouted at his and said, “Pretty please?” He went up and moped in his office, going over all those moments when he felt that now familiar ache in his chest– that throbbing pain that felt like his swollen heart was being mushed up against his ribcage and had been making his daily life on the ship, oh, so inconvenient.

Like a few months ago when, in your typical fashion, you’d put together a small band out of the rag-tag musicians on the crew. An upright bass player out of your intel gatherer, a drummer out of one of Hongo’s assistants, some brass players that you put through a very selective audition, and, of course, you as the singer. He remembers walking out after having a few drinks with those of his men that he was closest with and hearing the sound of your voice singing a soft jazz tune. ‘I wish you bluebirds, in the spring…..’ his heart picking up a bit, and him leaning over to look at the band playing, ‘To give your heart a song to sing, and then a kiss…’ Him rushing down the stairs and urging the crew to dance, asking Lucky to get behind the bar and start making cocktails and drinks, ‘But more than this, I wish you love’ anything so that he could sit and listen to you. He remembers the boyish surge of energy that coursed through him when you shot him a playful wink. A thank you for entertaining your antics and encouraging your little band of criminal musicians.

Or last week, when you stopped by his office (he’d begun spending more and more time locked in there attempting to find reprieve from your presence which was quickly becoming all too much for him to be around) and knocked on his door in the way you always knocked on any door. Three rhythmic little taps, always quiet and polite. “Come in!” he’d said, forcing his voice to steady itself like his heart wasn’t crawling up into his throat. “Hey Shanks– I have something for you.” You made your way to his desk, dropping a little parcel on it before going to lay down on the couch in his office, a seat he always kept open for you. It was just an old leather chair, but he knew how much you liked it. He opened up the parcel, watching you pull out a cigarette and bring it to your lips, holding it droopily between them as you dug around in your jacket for a lighter. He finished unwrapping the gift, a compass falling out. Gold and the initials R.H.S. engraved in the back. The glass had been carved out so that it was angular and there was a detailed inking of the ocean in the back, and the north arrow was dark red. He turned it over in his palm, “R.H.S.?” he asked. “It’s funny, huh! Red-Hair-Shanks,” you laughed, “It made Benny crack up so I snatched it. They wanted $15,000 for it! Like hell was I gonna pay that…. Hey, do you have a lighter?” You walked back over to him, leaning on his desk, looking down at his face, batting your eyes at him all doe-like. He felt like he might faint. 'Benny' he felt a pang of jealousy but smiled to himself at the nickname. Beckman hated nicknames but you'd started calling him Benny and for the first time ever there was no protest from the man's lips. You'd wiggled your way into all their hearts like that- helping Lucky with groceries and keeping Yasopp company when he drank more than he could stand.

“Sure do, sweetheart,” he maintained his typical flirty cadence but failed to sound as confident as he usually does. You shot him a look. He sheepishly handed you the lighter but instead of taking it you leant over further, beckoning for him to light the cigarette for you. He swallowed and brought the lighter up to the cigarette, the two of you making eye contact as he lit it. You blew a playful puff of smoke at him before making your way back over to the sofa. You laid across it, kicking your shoes off and pulling a magazine from his shelf. “Playboy? Really?” He gave you an embarrassed grin and shrugged. You made a mental note that this magazine had been left open on a photo of a bikini-clad girl that looked an awful like you. Pervert, you thought. You put the magazine away and sunk further into the chair, taking long drags of the cigarette, filling up the room with smoke. Shanks was trying not to stare a hole through you and limited himself from looking over in your general direction. You were so at peace, your legs draped over the arm of the chair and your hands above your head. An hour passed like this, the two of you sharing a silence that was only peaceful on your end. Shanks sat at his desk pretending to be deeply interested in a blank piece of paper and mulled over possible topics of conversation. He was trying not to beat himself up over his newfound shyness- he was like a teenage boy talking to a girl for the first time. When he finally got the courage to ask you about your most recent errand he was cut off before he could even start.

“Y/n!!! Help me with dinner, eh?!”

Lucky. You groaned sitting up, remembering that you’d promised to help him out with tonight’s dinner last week. “Sorry, Captain,” you said, putting your shoes back on, “I’d love to stay and fog up your office a bit more but duty calls.”

He nodded and got up, nearly running into you. “Ah, sorry princess,” he said, guiding you gently out of the room with a hand on your back.

“Try not to miss me,” you’d said, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and placing it in his. He furrowed his brows in equal amounts of confusion and sexual frustration. “Lucky won’t let me smoke in the kitchen,” you explained. You shot him a wink and were off.

He took a short puff of the cigarette before taking it out and staring at it between his fingers. Your red lipstick stained the end of it. He took a very self indulgent inhale before setting it down on an ashtray in his office. It was the first time he’d smoked in a while.

He hadn’t remembered it feeling so good.

He was late to dinner that night and even Benn had indicated some degree of worry about his captain, asking if he was alright.

Shanks knew this couldn’t last forever– that he would have to do something before he lost his ability to lead his ship entirely. But then, of course, there was what happened yesterday.

Some rookie pirates had convinced themselves it would be a good idea to try and loot your ship. You’d been out on the deck helping Beckman with some chores when the first group of them climbed overboard. Neither of you had particularly expressive reactions– after all, you could tell within a few seconds that they were neither strong nor experienced. Still, it was the general attitude of the Red Hair Pirates to avoid conflict as much as possible. So when they wrapped rope around your wrists and held knives to your throats you and Benn didn’t flinch. Some newer recruits had sounded the alarm which eventually led to the rest of the crew making their way lazily out onto the deck. Shanks emerged from his office, reading glasses still on and laughed at the sight.

“Yasopp– take a pic, will ya!?” he laughed, slapping him on the back, “Benny we’re gonna hang this up in the dining hall!”

Benn rolled his eyes and you smiled. It took another several moments before you realized that your body was feeling more and more weakened by the moment, but when you finally felt a dullness creeping up your legs you noticed that the man holding you was a devil fruit user. The Neru Neru no Mi you believed it was called, Sleep Sleep Fruit. Fatigue started to wash over you and you stumbled forward slightly. The laughter on the ship immediately ceased and Benn called your name. You tried responding but instead fell back, landing against your assailant's chest. Yasopp and Lucky both brought their hands to their pistols, and Benn had taken a more offensive stance though it was clear the effect was starting to weigh on him as well.

“We’ll kill them both,” one of the looters had yelled. Yasopp shot Shanks a look, waiting for some kind of command. “Yasopp–” Shanks started, but he hesitated a moment. If his sniper made any kind of mistake it would be your life taken instead. Before he could react, your captor had drawn the knife down your arm, smirking at the cry of pain you let out as your arm was coated in red. “Shoot him,” he said, gaze turning black. You passed out, though whether it was from the pain or the effect of Shanks’ emperor’s haki on your weakened body was unclear. But the last thing you saw before blacking out was the haunting anger on Shanks’ face.

You woke up a bit later, your head throbbing and your arm bandaged. “Holy shit,” you muttered, “What happened?” Hongo and Beckman were sitting by your bed talking to each other and Lucky, Yasopp, and a few others were playing cards.

"You passed out from the effects of the devil fruit," Benn explained, "And you got a nasty cut on your arm. But Hongo says you'll be healed up by the weekend."

You blushed, somewhat embarrassed that you were the only one to have been injured. "What happened to the other crew?"

Benn shot you a half-smile. An expressive mixture of pride and shame. "The Captain took care of it. Honestly all we could do was watch, we all know better than to get in his way when he gets like that. Never seen this ship so bloody, that's for sure."

You grimaced, "Suppose they won't be messing with us again?"

Benn laughed, "Definitely not."

“Hey, Y/n!” Lucky called out, “Want anything to eat?”

You sat up, pushing yourself to the edge of the bed and grabbing the glass of water Benn offered you, “Yeah, Luck. I’ll take anything, honestly. Where is Shanks?” Benn sighed and looked over at Yasopp who was giggling like a twelve-year old. You got the message.

“Maybe we should tell him it’s obvious? And it’ll fix things?”

Benn shook his head and leant back in his chair, “Nah, it would crush the guy. Maybe if you say something to him, though?” You thought about it for a minute. You'd talked with each other before about the captain's feelings. How he acted every time he was around you. Benn added that he'd never seen him like that before, "Buggy's given us stories about how he used to be around girls. He'd run the other way when a pretty lady talked to him. He's obviously gotten over it since then but it's sort of nice to see him like this."

"Can't blame him," Yasopp added, winking at you, "You're about the prettiest thing on the sea."

Yasopp was still laughing about it, over a game of cards with Lucky and Hongo. You appreciated their company while you rested.

“I don’t know guys. You know I love him just as much but will it be weird? I mean– no offense, but this ship isn’t really the ideal romantic setting. And what if he plays favorites?”

They all laughed at this, “He already is, sweetheart!”

“Just tell him!”

“We’ll have a big ol’ wedding!”

You rolled your eyes and asked to be dealt into the card game they were playing. Lucky came back with a bowl of soup for you. Laughter was filling up the small medical room and it echoed down the hall...

Shanks’ crush on you was astoundingly obvious and what was more surprising was how he had been moping about it for the past four months. He was now in his room, shrouded in embarrassment. Half of it stemmed from the generally well known fact that Shanks and his crew were untouchable- or at least, should be. And the other, perhaps greater, half from the fact that you'd ended up hurt because he’d hesitated. It also didn't help that he had doubted Yasopp at all- he knew he never missed. He’d spent the evening drinking a bottle of whiskey to himself and replaying other embarrassing faux pas he’d committed in front of you. The bottle of empty whiskey sat in front of him on the desk and the sun had long set. He got up, feeling miserable, and decided to head to bed. He grabbed the empty bottle, pausing before he grabbed it. Your cigarette from a week ago sat in the mauve ceramic ashtray on his desk (also a gift from you– you’d said it reminded you of his “ugly pants”). He stared at the lipstick still staining the white paper on the end of the cigarette. His chest tightened and he looked out the window of his office. You were out on deck, your arm bandaged up, hauling some rope into a metal bin. He smiled to himself- an injury like that was no excuse for chores. You looked gorgeous. A white glow surrounded you from the beaming moonlight up above. Your hair was messy and flowed freely around your face shifting the shadows that fell on it. He knew, suddenly, that he had to talk to you. That in all his embarrassment and emotion and confusion about his feelings, he’d neglected to check up on you. He set the bottle down and grabbed the half-smoked cigarette, slipping it into his pocket. He paused at the door, momentarily enjoying the nerves that were coursing through his body. How long had it been since he last felt excitement like this? There were moments at sea where he realized that, thanks to his age and experience, he no longer felt those pangs and throes of youthful worry and excitement. But this? This was new and he was reeling like never before. He was submerged in uncharted waters and all of a sudden that spark of adventure that follows every pirate flared up inside him. Shanks closed the door to his office behind him, taking a deep breath.

You wrapped up the rest of the rope and threw it into the container, before taking a seat on it. Closing your eyes and taking a moment to yourself. It was rare to have a night so quiet. You could hear the faint sound of laughter and talking coming from below the deck. The ship was slowly rocking back and forth.

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

You blinked your eyes open to see Shanks standing in front of you. It still surprised you how a man of his size and power could sneak up on you so easily. It was a nice reminder of how in control he actually was of everything around him. It put you at ease to know you were in such responsible hands and guidance.

“You feel ok? It’s my fault I should’ve–”

You smiled at him, “What? This? I’m fine, Captain– I’ve dealt with much worse, that I can promise you.” He frowned at that, “That’s not a good thing, Y/n. I don’t like thinking about you getting hurt.” You shrugged and ruffled his hair, “I’m a pirate. A Red-Hair Pirate. It’s bound to happen. And you’re not perfect either. Believe it or not. What’s going on with you lately? So sappy.” You knew very well what was going on with him.

Shanks smiled and looked down at the floor. This was it. Now or never.

“Y/n… You know that, well, women love me and- and that I love women,” he started. Your smile dropped.

“M-hm.”

“Uh,” he rubbed his neck sheepishly, like a child getting scolded, “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re not like other women.”

You looked at him, “Are you sure about that?” You looked unamused. He steeled himself– he was an emperor of the sea, goddamnit, you were just a woman! Just a girl on his crew.

He knew that was a lie.

You were his girl on his crew. And he was being eaten alive by your existence, completely consumed by the thought of you. He couldn’t live another day without relieving himself of his constant torture and the emotional suffering you put him through. He couldn’t wake up another morning without you next to him, begging him to sleep in a bit longer and asking him to hold you tighter. He couldn’t spend another night watching you laugh and smile and be the most beautiful, enchanting thing in the world and not call you his. You were his, not through ownership but through love.

“Alright! Damn it, woman, you’re so intimidating.” Your smile returned.

“I love you,” he sighed. It wasn’t as dramatic as either of you had pictured. He said it like he was simply reminding you.

“I love you, Y/n. And I have for months. Since I first saw you– since you first started giving me random antique shop gifts and coming into my office at the most inconvenient times and filling it up with smoke. I can’t look at the color red and not think of you. That’s my color, damn it! And yet– I see red and think of the brand of cigarettes you like and the lipstick you wear and the way your laughter sounds and the color of your nail polish. I can’t listen to music and not think of you. I mean- you’ve come on board and turned everything upside down. My men, my violent men, are playing jazz on Thursday nights! Lucky’s new favorite thing to drink is Cosmopolitans and Yasopp is taking daily showers and, christ, Benn’s new nickname is Benny and he likes it! Everything I have reminds me of you. This is basically your ship now. And I love it. I love how you're everywhere. And I- I need you. I want you but it's more than that- I need you.”

He took a deep breath and looked at you for the first time in weeks. You laughed- at him, and grabbed his hand. His cheeks turned bright red and he felt like a teenager again. You squeezed his hand, “F-i-n-a-l-l-y.” He took a moment to sound out your spelling, and smiled somewhat defeatedly. He laid his head down on your shoulder and mumbled into you, “Was it obvious?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head against his. It was refreshing to touch him without it being strange or feeling unnatural. To just hold one another and understand that that was all it was– a touch. That before either of you said anything and broke this mundane, normal silence everything was perfect. There was no room for mistake or anxiety or insecurity. There was just the mass of red hair on your shoulder ticking your neck and your arms wrapped around his. But you figured he’d suffered long enough.

“Very,” you said, answering his question, “There’re a bunch of betting pools regarding when, and if, you’ll confess. Though you don’t make a great effort to hide it. Looks like Benny’s gonna make some cash tonight.”

He shot up, somewhat offended, “I do hide it! I’ve kept my distance from you and treated you like everyone else.”

You laughed and sat him down on the bin next to you, “No, you haven’t. I’m your favorite. And though you have been avoiding me, when you’re around me your face is pink and you lose all that playboy gusto you think the ladies like. Plus you have those magazines lying around. It flatters me how much I resemble some of those models.”

His mouth fell open at this, realizing he had left it wide out in the open. You smiled at this, but said nothing. It was quiet out again– everyone had gone to bed early, tired from the day’s commotion, an unexpected change of pace from the typical mundane life of a pirate at sea that normally consisted of chores upon chores upon chores. The sea was calm tonight, almost eerily so. You rested your head against Shank’s shoulder and closed your eyes, it was quiet again. You could tell he was itching for a response. You smiled, enjoying the effect you had on him.

“I love you, too.”

You felt Shanks tense and opened your eyes, turning to look at him. He had a stupidly large smile plastered on his face. He was so damn handsome. His hand slid up your back and came to rest on your neck. He gently pushed your face toward his, a smile creeping up your lips, and tested the waters. You closed the gap, closing your eyes as you kissed your captain, shifting forward and finding your way onto his lap. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and you could feel him smiling against your lips. Shanks broke the kiss, pulling away after giving you a few more pecks.

His arm sank down to wrap around your waist and pull you in even tighter. He rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your lips, plump from the kissing.

“You’re mine,” he said.

“Yours.”

He sighed, relief flooding his body. You rubbed his neck, "Guess I wasn't as obvious as you, hm?" He laughed and squeezed your hand, "No. God, I was terrified. What an awful feeling."

You smiled. You were getting tired, and your arm was throbbing. "Wanna come with me to see Hongo? I think my arm should get re-wrapped." He nodded, standing up. You walked toward the infirmary, while Shanks stood back for a moment. Waiting awkwardly.

"Shanks?"

His name had never sounded so lovely. He was worried, "Should we tell people yet? The crew- I mean."

You laughed, and kept walking, "I think they'll figure out on their own. After all, I suspect that I'll be greeting them tomorrow morning with your shirt on."

He watched you walk on ahead a bit more before following after you, scooping you up in his arm and pressing kisses to your face. Shanks dropped you off outside of Hongo's door, letting you go in on your own. 'I want tonight to be just us,' you'd explained. Word does travel quickly on a ship. He waited outside the door, listening to you and Hongo talk while he rebandaged your arm. His chest felt warm and full, not with the previous tightness he'd experienced but full with satisfaction.

A familiar ebbing flow of egoism spread through his body. It was nice to be reminded of who he was. An emperor of the sea with one of the highest bounties of all time. A man feared and respected across the world. Wanted by the world government and untouchable to anyone. Almost anyone. Your voice bubbled up over the sound of his thoughts for a moment. His confidence had quickly reinstated itself.

After all, Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

2K notes · View notes

nekassvariigs · 1 year

Text

Intentionally calling them husband in scenarios, heres how it goes

part two

Luffy, Sabo, Katakuri, Zoro, Sanji ,Smoker, Roger, Shanks, Eustass Kid

part three will feature Robin, Whitebeard, Marco, Ben Beckmann, Franky, Brook, Mihawk.

------------------------------------------------------------

Luffy

Save him please someone.

"Argh i refuse!" he'd snarl pointy teeth showing as he yells.

''But Luffy, you'd be a great husband." you protest making him only more irritated.

"I'm not marrying anyone!'' he slaps his hands on the table, steam blowing form his nose, you pout a little with this fake facade.

You walk over to the kitchen taking out a well cooked meat dish. ''Here i made something for you."

His nose is like a hounds when it comes to meat. "Wacha got there." he's already clanking forks against the table as you set it in front of him.

"If you eat this, you'll be my husband."

He completely ignores your joke, dropping forks aside he takes the food with his hands, chewing the delicious meal.

"So good! Oi Y/n ,I want more, moreee!" he'd whine not even finishing the first set his eyes sparkling wide as he looks at you.

''Oh whatever." you completely lose against him, his obliviousness compares with no one when it comes to this.

He thanks you for the food, licking his mouth from the crumbs, you show him another one.

''Shishishi" he cackles loudly and before you notice the food is long gone.

"Luffy!'' you shout watching him swallow quickly, you're left defeated.

''At least enjoy it you ape.." you wail silently watching him brisk past you.

''Maybe I should consider, aah who knows, but the food is too good.'' he speaks to himself arms behind his head and a large smile.

If you haven't ever experienced a Boa Hancock moment now you understand what it is about.

Sabo

''Isn't this a little sudden?'' he asks.

The two of you lying on the couch whilst watching a movie, not that the movie was bad but somehow Sabo started talking about random things trying to get to know a bit more of your mind until the topic game to be about marriage, you asked him what he thought about being called husband and this was his response.

"Were not getting married Sabo, it's just a question, what do you think?'' his arm pulled back a little from holding onto you , his elbow rested on the couch, hand still on your back he traced light circles.

''Well putting it this way.." he looked in thought his blonde hair falling over his eyes you couldn't help to brush it away, his gaze softly falling on you he smiled into the touch.

"I don't hate it, matter of fact, im open to it."

"Really?''

"Yeah, I mean you've called me D-"

"Ah shut up." You covered his mouth the apples of his cheeks growing as he gently bit into your palm.

You blushed a little, man this guy can be such a tease sometimes.

He pulled your hand away from his mouth, continuing.

"Well, do it." He smiled, his blue eyes flickering form the movie that flashed by beside you two.

''You're my husband." you stated shyly blinking many times as you watched him clench his heart.

"Oh this hits right in the feels." he faked pain falling over onto your lap.

You laughed at his antics, if there's anyone that can difuse the feeling of embarrassment faster its this guy. He laid back on your lap, your hand wandering lazily in his hair, you smiled at him.

His hand reached over to your cheek he pulled you forward, his nose gently rubbing against yours he pressed a lingering kiss.

Katakuri

He's a rather secluded person so you mainly hanged out around his sister, Brulee was the sweetest older sister you could ask for always offering you tea and sweets her genuine heart never wavering. You two had an ongoing joke about her brother the two of you kept codenaming him ''husband'' so your conversations would usually go with her staring a conversation like this. "So y/n, how's the husband?" she chuckled her smile lighting up the room. "He's a delight really we went shopping the other day and let me tell you how hard it is to find something that he'd even remotely hate, he loves everything! I'm starting to think it's impossible to make him mad.'' you sighed, not that you had real intentions of getting the big giant mad, you just wanted to see if he'd ever change his character, no matter how long you were at the store trying on every piece of clothing to waste time, he sat patiently the large scarf covering his mouth he always waited for you with a warm smile giving his opinions on the outfits. Brulee smirked '' He's a very kind person so even I cant see him being unsupportive."

"I know right, its like everything he does always turns out to be even better than he intended!" you flailed your arms a slight frown forming on your brows. The door peered open a rather tall figure coming through he welcomed himself in with a smile, setting some sweet buns on the table, they steamed with a gnetle delicious scent of sesame , rice and hints of familiar mango filling.

"Thank you dear." you smiled to the man as he stepped forth to take off the large scarft, his pointy teeth always caught your gaze.

you continued your conversation with brulee,katakuri sitting by your side as he bit into the sweet bun.

The two of you kept speaking about a certain husband and he for the life of him couldnt understand to who were you reffering to with such familiarity.

''Who are you two talking about?'' he chewed the sweet looking between you two.

"You.'' you quickly replied continiuing your conversation with his sister until she stopped her eyes wide as she looked at you.

You had a quizzical expression on your face and then it clicked, your face flared up red with brulee watching the sweetest smile on her face, you avoided looking at katakuri to save your life.

No need to worry, the large man was barely able to continue eating his desert, a humble red spread over his ears he pinched the bridge of his nose for the longest time. It was for the longest time he thought you were talking about someone else every time you chatted with his sister he thought you were chatting about another man you had spotted wandering onto the island. Now it made sense to him, the words repeating in his mind he groaned setting the pastry on the table, he never pictured himself to be called that , he was barely able to get used to boyfriend so you tended to switch it up very often.

You cleared your throat watching the fluster on his face , your hand reached over to take his , you were met with a comfortable squeeze.

"You two will be the death of me." he sighed a large toothy grin over his face. The two of you were left a laughing mess offering him some tea as an apology for the long confusion along with the sudden surprise.

Zoro

He asked for you to sit on his back while he was working out, you hesitated at first thinking that he's going a little too far, he reassured you there's nothing to be afraid of as he can easily sling over 100 kgs without ease.

''If you say so.." He steadied himself into a plank waiting for you to find a comfortable place over him.

"Ready?"

''Yep." you popped the p feeling your balance loose itself as you held onto waist each time he neared the ground.

You couldn't hold your amusement, he was way stronger than you imagined, your weight seemed to barely affect him as he did his push ups with ease. ''15..16..17.." you counted in your mind your but flat against his lower back.

"Have you asked anyone else to do this while you train?'' you had to know, there's no way he'd be so comfortable with a whole human on his back like this.

"Yeah, I asked," he panted between pushes, you could feel each time his body took an inhale of breath. "Luffy, but he's so light it wasn't even a challenge." sweat dripped down his forehead onto the ground before him creating a little array of a puddle.

"Anyone else?''

He took his time answering this time focusing on his form before he spoke up again, the silence was pleasant, although you were a little worried reminding yourself as you rode on his back that he was still training.

" I think I asked Usopp after that, though he wasn't better than Luffy."

He breathed a little heavier taking some time to stop between curls, to steady his breathing.

"You alright? I can hop off if it's too much." you wondered not wanting for him to collapse with extra weight on him.

"Stay, you're good." he continued with a regained sense of will, crushing through the next 50 push ups.

You grew comfortable on his back having adjusted to the rhythm.

Your hands slid lower on his waist as you lowered your back against his, your concentrated weight now laying flat over him, your head on the back on his neck, just enough so it wouldn't bother him.

He puffed heavier reaching triple digits, his muscles slowly grew sore but he pushed through with a slight sense to impress you.

''Y/n , you up there? Is Zoro with you?'' Chopper asked under the stairs you responded loudly.

''Yep, my hubby's right here!'' there was a quick silence as Zoro's eyes widened under you, not that you could see.

''Okaay! Dinners gonna be ready soon!'' he informed before walking to do help out.

The weight shifted under you, his hand held you in place, as you leaned slightly to his right, he was doing single handed push ups.

"Hey, don't you think that's a bit extreme?'' you told him, as he continued to meet ground confidently.

''Nah." His hand held comfortably on your waist a while longer until he switched sides, the name lingering in his mind. A while later he was dripping wet, you could feel your own shirt soaking in his sweat he gestured you to hop off.

''Here." you handed him some water, he turned to his side his face not meeting yours he drank, chest rising with each sip you admired his well toned back with a silent whistle.

It surprised him, the feeling of your eyes on him made him a little shy, hince the reason he refused to turn around for so long.

You walked up to him, head leaning over his shoulders to have a look at his face. He had spaced out for a bit , a blush covering his upper face you smiled in awe.

''Yeoow, Tell your hubby to move it! Foods done!" you heard Franky call for you, Zoro's face eyes twitching at the mention of this nickname.

Your smile grew wider as you poked his face.

''Were you pulling those stunts because of me?'' you smirked making his eyes open to look at you with the blush on his face still wildly present.

"No.." he spoke softly, his crossed arms unwinding he slipped one around your waist with a serious yet pleading look.

''Don't tell anyone.." you chuckled silently at his words, resting your head on his shoulder.

''Come on, food will get cold.'' he guided you to head down, following closely as everyone greeted you.

During dinner you gave him a look, mouthing the nickname again, he ate his food not saying anything, the tips of his ears were red no matter how much he tried to deny it.

He liked the nickname despite the silence.

Sanji

''Sanji, come here a moment." You ushered the sweetheart over, he waltzed towards you with his signature spin stopping behind you to peer over what you were looking for.

A bunch of jewelry, shining red white, pink and blue all sorts of jewels shined under the display lights. "What's up? Do you need money?''

''Hmm no, give me your hand." you vaguely looked at his hand, his slim fingers flexing before you, a trail of smoke winding in the air.

You offered his hand to the jeweler he took measurements of his ring finger, whilst Sanji watched, if this was an idea for a gift this was the worst way to ask for a ring size, he could of just told you if you asked.

''8.5 centimeters miss." The shop keep informed you of the size.

''Thought as much, could i see the rings over there?'' you pointed under the display, Sanji curiously watching over your shoulder like a cat.

"Of course, for gifts we suggest these as they aren't that flashy and will accentuate the hands well." He smiled pulling out a ring form its holdings handing it over to you.

You turned Sanji's hand so his palm would face you your warm hand meeting with his rather cold and meek one.

"What's wrong Sanji? Your hands are cold." you asked watching him puff smoke in the shapes of hearts, his cheeks a brisk red.

"Hm? Oh I didn't think you'd be the type to buy men jewelry.'' He watched as you slipped the ring on his finger, a slim silver band sitting low on his finger it looked rather pretty but a little too slim for him.

You took it off clasping the metal you handed over it the shop keep.

"How about this one?'' you showed to a thicker ring, the polish on it shining beautifully.

"Good choice miss." he commented handing you the ring.

You took the cigarette from Sanjis lips between your middle and pointer finger holding the ring in your thumb and ring finger you slipped it on taking a slow drag from the white wrapped cigarette.

Sanji watched with deep curiosity, he loved when you did these subtle yet intimate things, his heart beat with a deep flame as he watched you puff out a streak of grey smoke. His lower lip slightly trembling at the sight.

"What do you think?'' You spoke calmly watching him gulp as his eyes wandered to the ring, he twirled it around with his thumb checking if it wasn't going to bother him whilst he was cooking.

''It's good, won't bother me if I wear it for a long time." You smiled taking on another drag of his cigarette. A pleasant smirk laying on your features as you thought about what you're going to say next.

''This isn't typically a thing to take off Sanji." you smiled brushing a hand over his cheek, the lit cigarette dangerously close to his face, protected by your hand.

His heart dropped at the mention.

''She doesn't m-mean.." he thought to himself. Your confident yet seductive gaze at him only confirmed his thoughts, he swallowed slowly, his face plastered in a red blush, you laughed.

''Is this a prop-proposal!?'' his eyes beat out of his face he practically shouted in the most excited way.

You chuckled sweetly, the shop keep blushing at the sight of you two.

''Well take this one then" You smiled handing him money. Your gaze towards Sanji you put a hand on his shoulder whispering.

''I might as well make you a husband, dear.''

Oh boy.. the red that ripped down his nose way quite something, you handed him a hanker chief dropping the cigarette on the nearby ashtray the shop keep kept, you laced your hand with his walking out the shop Sanji followed with a light stumble every now and then walking a few steps behind you as you lead him. His head was so ready to burst with all the imagines of the two of you holding a ceremony rose petals flying and everything.

''My those two are something." the shop keep chuckled watching an overly flustered male leave with his sweetheart in hand.

Smoker

Word seemed to get around around you and the cloudy vice admiral, because of his strict work nature and your dedication people started calling you the type to be married only to two things each other and work, the two of you never met much aside from when it was time to deliver some justice, men practically fangirled when the two of you appeared fighting along each other.

''What's wrong with all of you, there's work to be done!'' Smoker shouted to his underlings as you walked beside him.

''There she is, aren't they the best.." the guys swooned as you stood hands on your hips along Smoker, his cigars burning weak smoke you offered him a light, his face leaning to the fire you provided the guys waited in anticipation for something to happen.

''Got a problem guys?'' you smiled meanly, Smoker puffing on his cigars to light them fully.

''None at all!!'' they all waved their hands with sheepish smiles.

''This is getting a little out of hand.." he looked at you smoke puffing from his face.

''You don't say." you laughed, something you did only around him according to every fanboy out there.

''Look look she's smiling again'' they blushed, a vein popping on Smokers face from this foolery.

''Go do something you idiots!" he knew the rookies had nothing better to do but it beat oogling at you two every second they could.

'' I'm going to HQ if you need something you know where to find me." with the use of his devil fruit and a long streak of smoke he disappeared from your sights.

You chuckled closing the door to his office with your body, Smokers head deep into his papers.

"It's crazy out there." you stood there hand's behind your back as you leaned on the door. Smoker hummed listening to you. ''You don't think we should do something about this?'' you walked over to his desk sitting across him, the single cigar set down in the ash tray he finally pulled his head out of the mountains of papers before him.

''Why should we? It does nothing for us." he stated slicking back his hair you squinted at the sight.

"You enjoy being my fictitious husband that much?" you smiled watching his eyes slowly running over you face, a little shit eating grin plastered on your face, you subsided it once you saw his cheeks redden a little as he resumed his smoke hiding the embarrassment.

"You're kidding right?!'' he winced closing his eyes , a hand clenching under the desk. Just dont laugh, it wasn't supposed to come off this way, but there was no better way for him to answer.

''..'' He was silent as he opened his eyes staring at you through his brows.

It was your turn to return the blush, as you laid back on the chair placing a cold towel over your forehead.

''Those brats..'' you sighed pinching the bridge of your nose you rose your head letting the towel fall to your lap.

Once his work was done he decided to treat you to some tea in the lounge, the two of you passed by a couple of marines on your way, you calmly took his hand in your watching as one spit water behind you, you turned your head looking at them with a knowing smile. Smokers eyes glancing over at your hand he picked up the pace dragging you along a bit faster, you laughed turning your face back to the blushy vice admiral.

Eustass Kid

You watched as Kid toyed around his arm, tightening bolts and sautering wires it looked surreal to just think how it operated.

"Kid what do you think about marriage." you asked him out of the blue never approaching this topic with him before. The mean look on his face grew as he barked at you. " What marriage?! It's annoying to just think about it." Whilst true he had a lot on his plate in the current situation, he wanted to beat Kaido for beating his ass so badly the dumbest of reds showed on his face as he threw some bolts at you making you hide behind a flipped table.

"Get out, you're annoying!'' He puffed slamming his fist on the table, bolts creaking on his arm as he attempted to move it.

"Look at what you did!'' You checked his arm watching smoke and sparks come from it you chuckled a bit. ''You can fix that cant you?'' you pointed at it making him growl back, ''Of course, it's gonna take a shit ton of time because of you though." he held a mean glare toward you. ''Okay okay I get it, I'm sorry." you raised your hands in defeat watching him sigh.

'' Don't stand there, you're helping out now." he waited for you to come closer bringing over all sorts of random tools with you, the two of you worked for a long while, trying to fix all the errors you caused.

As much as he kept focusing on his work, his eyes sometimes wandered to your face watching how you inspected his work. The dumb glint in your eyes as you followed his each move broke the silence.

"I guess it can't hurt.." he admitted his ears a little red.

"Hm?'' you turned to took at him while he was avoiding your gaze with a little sweat dropping down his brow.

"Nothing, pay attention." he moved your face with the back of his knuckle, your side eye stared at his preoccupied thought filled expression, with a wide smirk you pushed his hand back with your face, the longer you stared the longer he stiffened up.

"What?'' his clad orange eyes peered down on you.

You smiled not saying a word.

''You'd make the finest fucking husband." you spoke up suddenly staring right at him with a wide smirk.

He rolled his head throwing it back before he snapped at you.

"GET OUT WILL YOU." he threw an oiled cloth at you watching you scatter out of his room with haste.

Hand over his mouth he stared long at his arm, his eyes wide without a sense of reality, the embarrassed blush covering his face he could no longer work on the repairs.

Shanks

''Hubby am i right on this ?" You were bickering with Ben for the longest time, the stubborn first mate would not bend under your will even if you bribed him with millions.

Shanks turned around with a cheeky look on his face he overheard the entirety of the conversation between you two, you were in the wrong however he wanted to mess around with something else first.

"Hubby?'' he asked whipping around the bar stool one leg over the other he laid his hand behind the counter in a rather confidant way.

"Come on Shanks who's right.'' you blurted out continuing to one over Ben whos scowl only grew the longer you didn't agree with him.

He watched with a glimmer in his eyes calling out your name.

"Hubby~" he smirked watching as you processed the information.

''Argh what the hell! Yes Ben your point is right! Shanks youre dead!" you stormed forward to the captian pinching his nose.

"I call you one silly nickname and you dont leave it alone." you scolded him watching him stifle a laugh as he pushed you to his side with his only arm.

You didn't look him in the face knowing he'd give you a shit eating grin.

"Let go!'' you peeled at his hands , his grip strong as he got in your face with a whisper.

"I refuse~" the gravel in his tone, along the way he looked at you, it was only a matter of time before you shot him a glance.

You looked over at him quickly regretting that instantly.

"There you are." the sultry tone in his voice never leaving as he leaned in his lips hovering just above yours, barely a touch.

He waits for you, with a small smile tugging on his lips. He was pleasantly surprised when you tugged on his collar a rather harsh kiss deepening against his.

Roger

You brought up the topic suddenly the hearty laugh form him was as much as when you did your usual babbling with him.

"Husband, me?'' he snorted between baited breaths.

You felt a little dumb standing in front of him as he laughed his large hat tipping on his head.

'Never hurts to try something once now does it?" He showed you a warm smile once his laughter stopped, you didn't expect him to be so agreeable to something like this.

''I cant figure out if you're serious or joking." you pouted as he guided you to the end of his ship.

''If you want the world, I'll get it for you.'' he clenched his first around thin air, right along your chest as he leaned into hug your shoulder, a bewildered stare darting between his face and hand you didn't even think about the possibility.

"I can't bring you a big ceremony, but if you want the life of a wanted criminal on your hands I can't go denying yours dreams now can I?''

''Guys prepare for a celebration!'' he shouted over his shoulder, every man standing at a halt.

''Your captains getting married!'' he wasted no time jumping assumptions.

"R-Roger wait, now?!'' you pushed a hand on his chest which he took into his with a knowing look.

"No time like the present no?'' He smirked, his teeth flashing in the bright sun.

He didn't even take time to consider something like this...

''I thought it over don't be stupid." Its like he read your mind, he pointed to his crew gazing down at you.

"They're a handful, but take care of them will you?"

"Like that's new.." you chuckled, still baffled by his words.

5K notes · View notes

turtletaubwrites · 2 months

Text

A Good Catch ~ Part 1

✨600 Followers Fic Celebration!✨

I am so grateful for all of you! This has been such a wonderful time, and having all of you around to nerd out with, and to share my writing with is the best! Shanks won the poll for the next x Reader fic, and I hope you enjoy it!

Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4367

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (End)

Ao3 Link

Summary: You are an unlucky fisherwoman having a bad day, until a red haired pirate captain offers to help you out. You're pretty sure he only makes it worse.

Rating/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, I feel like there's some romance tropes I could tag, but I usually just write smut, so please let me know what silly tropes I have in here 😅

A/N: I am having so much fun with this one! I'm doing my best to keep it to 3 parts, so wish me luck 😅 Please enjoy this fluffy first chapter!

“Now I’m gonna get murdered by pirates,” you grumbled to yourself as the ship crept ever closer. “Just fucking perfect.”

The windless sea was no challenge for the massive pirate ship. All you could do was sit with your pile of fish, jealous of the huge oars guiding the threat to you.

Dread loomed as that jolly roger closed the distance, like an animal baring its fangs before it strikes. Crossed blades, and a sinister skull with red stripes over its left eye socket.

You didn’t pay enough attention to the gossip and wanted posters to remember who was headed your way.

Not that it matters. They’re pirates.

It was too much to hope that they’d pass you by.

A few voices carried over from the deck, until a tall man leaned over the side. His bright, red hair hung still against this stupidly windless sky.

“Hey, friend,” he called, the sun at your back giving you a glimpse of his wide smile, even from so high above you.

“We’re not friends,” you countered, crossing your arms to keep him from noticing your shaky hands.

“I suppose not. You seem like you’re in a spot of trouble though, and we’re happy to help.”

His deep voice sounded so friendly. Genuine. Charming.

He’s just trying to lure me into his trap. Who knows what they’d do to me on that ship…

“The sun’s getting pretty low for a small boat to be all the way out here,” he judged, trying to block the glare as he looked down at you. “I don’t think we’ll be getting much more wind today.”

“Thank you, I’ll be fine.”

His pause made your skin itch, wishing he would stop looking at you.

“We can bring your boat with us. I’m assuming you’re from that village a ways to the west?”

It must have been a trick of your eyes, it couldn’t happen so quickly. But you swore the day inched closer to night faster with every second. You watched the light grow golden as it lit up the red haired man, and his pirate ship.

Fuck.

“I refuse to be rescued,” you choked out, nails digging into your arms.

“Okay,” he said in an annoyingly teasing tone, “if you insi–”

“I’ll pay you for the service! I had a great haul before…”

“Sounds good to me,” he laughed, deep and hearty. As if he were truly happy.

You had thought pirates would seem scarier. Maybe this is worse.

You barely heard his shouts as men started to lower ropes down, prepping to save you.

“You should know I’m armed,” you yelled up at the back of his head, continuing when he faced you again. “Anyone touches me, and they’ll lose a hand.”

“I’ll be on my guard then. I’ve been running out of those.”

You didn’t understand, or appreciate his teasing while you waited.

“Welcome aboard!”

Pirates echoed the red haired man’s welcome, and you assumed he was the captain as the rest busied themselves about. He sat on deck, calm as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Now that you were so close, you couldn’t help but notice the rippled muscles of his chest and stomach between his mostly open shirt.

Besides the cloak over his shoulders, he didn’t seem to wear anything that could mark him as captain. Unless his red hair, and three scars over his left eye…

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he asked, moving to stand beside you.

“The jolly roger,” you pointed to the menacing skull. “You must be the captain.”

“Good eye,” he leaned in with a smile.

His smile should have a completely different word. The sight from your boat was nothing compared to seeing the way this man's lips curled slowly, the left side starting first as it grew, as if he was enjoying the act of smiling itself. And his eyes…

His eyes were way too close to you.

“Are you alright?”

Concern broke that smile, and he called for someone to bring water.

Your face flushed, hot to the tips of your ears. You realized that you hadn’t heard what the pirate had said because you were too busy swooning over his pretty eyes.

The water was welcome, and you gulped half of it down, suddenly embarrassed about how fucking fishy you must smell with your day’s catch beside you.

“Is there anything else you need, miss…”

Trying to catch your eyes, the pirate leaned toward you. He reached for your shoulder, and you jumped back, spilling water down your chest.

“I’m so sorry, love. I forgot about your warning.”

His soothing voice felt real as he went to a knee in front of you.

“I do hope you will spare me my fate, I swear that no one on this boat will forget it again.”

He’s really too charming. He’s either the sweetest person in the world, or some sort of demon with powers of seduction.

You nodded. It wasn’t like you could truly defend yourself anyway. The fear of being at their mercy kept you hyper aware of all the moving bodies around you.

“How long until we’re at the village?”

The sun was almost gone from the sky now, and you just wanted to be home. To scrub this stupid day away, and pass out.

“It should be about three days from now.”

“Three,” you choked out, dropping the now empty mug of water, which he caught without taking his eyes off of yours.

“We’ve got some business on the other side of the island. We'll be stopping by the village to restock supplies before we head out.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” you snapped, voice louder than you meant it.

He just smirked, tilting his head.

“Sorry, love. Would you like us to toss you overboard? I don’t think you had many rescuers lined up.”

For some reason, you couldn’t get your mouth to remember that these men could kill you as you growled back at him.

“You didn’t rescue me. I paid you for a trip back to the village.”

His lips quirked as if he was fighting not to smile again. He looked down at your haul, fish still flapping in the net.

“That is a really nice haul, miss. Afraid it’s not enough for a direct trip, though.”

Pirates came to take your fish away, and it broke the spell his irritating eyes had on you.

“Please, save this one! You can have it, just… Make sure you cook it well.”

The two men with the net followed your gesture to that fish, assuring you they would obey before taking it away.

“Why’s that one special?”

The weight of this long ass day hit you, a heavy sigh leaving your lips before you looked back at that pretty captain.

“It was a good catch.”

He huffed a laugh, the clear amusement he got from your words making you simultaneously annoyed, and pleased. You were mentally smacking yourself for that.

Don’t be attracted to pirates, dumbass.

“I’m Shanks. I don’t know if you heard me before, but…”

Your skin flushed again, and he seemed to notice, a warm, evil smile slowly forming on his lips.

“What’s your name?”

“You don’t need to know it.”

He gave a real laugh then, loud, and infectious. You had to remind yourself that he was laughing at you.

“What would you like us to call you then, huh? “Fish Girl?” Maybe “Fail Boat?” Or how about “Damsel in Distress?” I think I like that–”

You ripped your hand back as soon as you’d realized what you’d done.

But it was too late.

Your idiotic, suicidal hand had shot out and smacked him, hard, right in the center of that gorgeous chest of his.

The deck roared with laughter while you shook with horror. Shanks had looked down at his chest, and when he lifted his face to yours he looked stunned. If you hadn’t just signed your own death warrant, you might have thought his face comical, brows raised high, with his mouth and eyes wide.

“Go easy on the girl, captain,” teased a tall man with gray hair, shaking his head at Shanks.

“Yeah, come on, captain! What kinda hospitality are you giving, insulting our guest like that?”

A whole group of pirates crowded around him, reprimanding him, and giving him a few gentle punches and shoves.

Your mouth hung open. The sight of these pirates being so playfully disrespectful toward their captain didn’t fit in your brain. None of this made sense with what pirates were supposed to be like.

“Fine. Fine! I’m sorry, miss…”

He’d broken away from his men, leaning toward you with that question.

“Y/N.”

He hit you with a new grin to outshine all the others, making your breath hitch.

“What a beautiful name for a damsel in distress.”

You didn’t need to hit him this time, as pirates did the job for you, even throwing things at him from across the deck.

Maybe it was the overwhelm, the fatigue. Maybe you’d gone insane.

But laughter built in your stomach, growing through your body, until you were shaking with it. You had your hands on your knees as it took you over, and the pirates around you joined in.

How can pirates be laughing and smiling like this with me? How can it be genuine?

Amidst the continued roars of his men, Shanks shook his head, gesturing for you to follow him.

“Where are we going?”

“I’ll show you.”

Frowning at the back of his head, you followed through the wooden halls until he opened a large door, gesturing for you to go inside.

He rolled his eyes when you hesitated, before going in first.

The large room was tiled, with lockers and showers, and there he stood in the center, grinning like a creep.

“I’ll pass,” you deadpanned, backing out the door.

“Come on, fish girl,” he taunted, “you stink, and I think you’ll be easier to clean than the blankets you’ll sleep in tonight.”

Blood rushing to your face again, your mouth opened and closed as anger and embarrassment fought to take over.

Shanks laughed again, but tried to stifle it.

“Sorry, you’re just,” he motioned to his lips, mimicking your movements. “You’re a fish girl.”

“Shut up,” you seethed, leaning toward him. “I’m not taking a shower on a pirate ship when anyone can–”

“I’ll guard the door for you, okay,” he assured, finally seeming to take something seriously. “I’ll make sure no one comes in.”

Now his stupid smile was soft, small, and sweet. You hated it.

“Oh right,” you scoffed, “like I'd trust a pirate captain. Who’s gonna stop you from coming in?”

“What makes you think this pirate captain would even want to come in here, huh?”

“Fuck you,” you breathed, turning to leave.

He was so fast. You jumped back as he blocked the door. He saw your wide eyes, and moved out of the doorway so he wouldn’t block your exit, but he still leaned close.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Really, okay? I promise I will sit right outside this door, and not let a single person come inside until you’re done. There’s fresh clothes for you over there too. Whatever you need.”

A very fine trembling worked its way around your body as you studied him. It seemed like such a bad idea to trust him.

But you were exhausted.

“You’ll sit in front of the door?”

He straightened up, a look of relief brightening that serious face.

“I will.”

“Will you wear a blindfold?”

“If that’s what it takes,” he agreed with a smirk.

“And let me tie your hands behind your back?”

Shanks sucked his teeth as he leaned back. You had a second of fear as he started taking his clothes off.

But all he removed was his heavy cloak, revealing that he was missing his left arm.

Guilt hit you, apologies about to pour out, but he held his palm out.

“Afraid I can’t do that, but I promise I’ll do the rest. Is that alright, Y/N?”

This is really nice soap.

Still on edge, your body started to relax a bit with the delicious smelling soap on your skin.

But every time you felt a moment of relaxation, you’d remember the pirate on the other side of the door.

“You’ve gotta make it tighter, sweetie. Otherwise it won’t work.”

That fucking sentence kept tearing through your brain. The way he’d run his fingers across yours while you adjusted the cloth to blindfold him. The way his hair and skin had felt and smelled as you moved it into place. The way he’d rasped those words while he grabbed your wrist to guide you, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting his fingers trail down your skin.

The way you had let him touch you without arguing. His fingers had taken advantage of the moment, but it had felt almost electric to let him.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah. Thank you.”

How did he hear that over the shower?

“What the hell is this?”

“Sorry, love, I'm afraid I can't see what you– ow, hold on!”

You definitely had a few red hairs between your fingers after ripping his blindfold off.

The pirate captain got to his feet to meet your eyes, and fucking snorted.

“What is wrong with you,” you fumed, tossing the blindfold at his face.

The fact that he caught it before it hit him only pissed you off more.

“There has to be something else I can wear,” you demanded, pulling at the frilly lavender dress he stuck you with. You looked like some creepy porcelain doll.

His face was going as red as his hair as he tried not to laugh.

“I’m sorry, no one’s– we don’t have anyone your size,” he choked out, clearing his throat before continuing. “We have a few more dresses like this, though. They were supposed to be a gift for a princess, so you should feel honored!”

“Fuck you.”

His lips were fucking quivering as he fought his laughter. His eyes flicked down to your clenched fists, and he relented.

“Right, sorry, okay! You can have some of my clothes, you’ll just have to roll them up, alright?”

Very judgmentally looking him up and down, you raised your brows at him.

“Do you have any shirts that actually button up all the way? Or do you expect me to let my tits hang out like yours.”

Shanks cackled then, catching himself on the wall, his eyes even tearing up a little.

You kicked yourself for saying something so sexual in front of a fucking pirate.

“You’re a funny one, fish girl,” he teased between hiccupped laughs, “but you definitely look like a damsel in that dress.”

You kicked the pirate for being such a dick.

“Fuck, sorry,” he huffed, wincing as he rubbed his shin where you’d kicked it.

“Follow me. I definitely wanna get you outta that dress– I mean into different clothes,” he almost yelled, warding off a slap with his arm. “So you stop hurting me!”

Practically boiling with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and fear, you let yourself be guided along. The lantern lit halls were roomier than you would have expected, and you could hear the distant voices of the crew.

“Here we go,” he said gently, opening another large door. He went in first again, and you entered what had to be his quarters.

Of course. We’re getting his clothes.

It was full of rich, dark woods, red blankets, a desk that seemed to have more bottles of alcohol than anything work related on it, and a delightful, almost spicy scent filling the air.

The room was a bit messy, and you felt out of place standing there in that frilly dress while he dug through his wardrobe, tossing clothes to the ground as he searched.

“Here, love, how about these?”

“Do you have a belt?”

Managing to roll, buckle, and tuck at his clothes, you were mostly satisfied as you checked the mirror.

Even with all the buttons done up, you still had to tie his shirt to keep your chest from popping out like his does.

“You almost finished? The party’s star…”

Those pretty eyes brightened when you opened the door. His little smirk made you frown, and he held his hand up.

“You were right, Y/N. This definitely suits you better.”

He offered that hand to you, and even in the warm glow of the lanterns, you could see scars, callouses, and thick veins that made your breath hitch for a moment.

Your hand had almost reached his when he pulled away.

“Almost forgot,” he teased, his voice somehow lower than normal as he stepped out of the doorway for you. “I’ll lose my only hand if I touch you, right?”

“I…”

“Well, I definitely won’t risk that.”

He stepped further back, letting you follow him into the hallway.

Your brain seemed to stutter, unable to join the moment as it flew through conflicting emotions.

Like why it upset you that he wouldn’t risk it.

Shanks moved in close, his spicy scent filling your lungs as you looked up at him.

“Just let me know if that ever changes.”

He turned away after a subtle wink that made your brain short circuit.

“You comin’? I’m hungry.”

Still barefoot without your fishy shoes, you chased that red hair down the hallway.

He really is some sort of seduction demon.

“Hey, girly. Is this jackass treating you alright?”

“This is how you talk about your captain?”

The older man with long, gray hair ignored Shanks’ protests as he looked you over.

“You should be more worried about him,” you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at the captain.

“Ha, I’m sure you’re right.”

He grinned down at you, before motioning toward the fire.

“Come on, the food’s almost done.”

The crew had found a remote beach, and set up camp. Their camp supplies seemed to be mostly alcohol.

Shanks had said they had business here, and that they’d go to the village in about three days.

What kind of business are pirates getting up to on my island?

The thought was pushed aside as Shanks called for you. Most of the pirates were holding their plates, or using boulders or crates while they ate. Captain Shanks had a dingy little table by the fire, and was waving you over.

“Come on, love. Let’s eat, and find out why that fish of yours is so special.”

The day's events hit you again, but you joined him in a mismatched chair, and grabbed a fork.

It smelled good.

“Here,” Shanks demanded, shoving a mug of some kind of alcohol into your hand, before standing and lifting his own to address the crew. “Here’s to our luck! We found an unlucky fisherwoman, and now we’ve got good eats. To Y/N!”

The sheer volume of their enthusiasm made your eyes go wide as you faked a sip.

“So tell me, fish girl,” he leaned toward you, the small table not leaving much space between you. “Why is this fish so special?”

Ignoring him, you focused on your plate. The way it looked and smelled was perfect, but you had to know.

He watched your movements, following along as you pierced into the flesh, bringing the first bite to your lips.

It was perfect. Whoever had cooked it had treated it right. The tender meat and the subtle flavor were given just the amount of spice to balance it out.

It would have sold well. After all it took to get it, you were grateful that it didn’t go to waste, and tasting it yourself was wonderful.

Even if you were sharing it with a pirate.

“This is incredible, Y/N. You really are a fish girl.”

Letting out a sigh, you dug in, trying to enjoy the meal that had put you in this situation. The night was filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and endless calls for cheers, the clanging of metal mugs like the shifting heartbeat of this joyful crew.

“So, I had someone take a look at your boat, in case we could help fix it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my boat,” you spat out, wishing you could have enjoyed your meal in peace. Without this too fucking handsome and annoying pirate captain.

Shanks tapped his fingers on the table, a smirk playing at his lips.

“That was the report,” he said softly, the teasing tone building slowly in his voice. “They did say that one of the oars is missing.”

“Thanks for the report,” you grumbled, watching the fire now.

“Come on, just tell me what happened. How’d you get stranded out there?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Your face felt hot, the fire not close enough for the burning in your skin.

“Consider it payment then. For my clothes, and for my company,” he taunted, his voice dipping low.

“I could do without the latter.”

“You wound me, sweet damsel.”

He put his hand to his heart, chuckling at your frown before chugging whatever was in his mug.

“It was a really good catch,” you mumbled, giving in. He scooted even closer to you, excitement in those lovely eyes, mixing with the light of the fire.

Shanks kept that beautiful mouth shut, just tilting his head toward yours as he waited.

“My grandma used to talk about her best catch. That was it,” you said flatly, gesturing to your empty plate. “She made me promise that if I ever caught a fish like that, I had to eat it myself, eat it with friends.”

“Don’t waste a fish like that on berry, sugar. It’s a gift.”

He raised his mug as you mimicked your grandma’s voice, and you brought yours up with a sigh, still just pretending to drink.

“I’m honored, then. Your grandma was right, that fish was amazing.”

Memories of her seemed to join you at the table, bittersweet, and heavier than you’d like.

“Sorry, Y/N. You, uh… You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” you coughed, a hint of anger back in your voice as you fought against the prickling in your eyes.

“Well,” he drawled out, extending the word for way too long, “you still didn’t tell me how you got stranded out there with nothing but the perfect fish.”

Groaning, you put your forehead on the dingy table and blurted it out, as if you could make it not true if you said it fast enough.

“I caught the fish. I saw what it was. It started to slip through my hands. I knew it’d sell well, so I didn’t want to lose it. I ended up tripping over one of the oars. I should have let it go, I could have grabbed the oar if I’d seen it slipping. But I was greedy. I wanted to sell that stupid fish instead of eating it, and now grandma’s probably cussing at me from the afterlife.”

Shanks at least had the decency to shove his knuckles between his teeth before he started laughing.

“Oh, fuck you,” you huffed, standing to leave the captain’s dingy table.

“Wait, please,” he called, catching your fingers in his, and pulling you back toward him. Only to drop your hand as if he’d been burned when you met his eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean–”

Whatever you might have said was lost in a wave of too many things at once. Humiliation over the whole thing, fear that these pirates could still hurt you, especially if you fell asleep, and the burning in your stupid cheeks because this gorgeous asshole held your hand.

What the fuck is wrong with me today?

The moon was mostly full, so there was plenty of light on the sand as you walked away from the camp. They were so fucking noisy, but the ocean beckoned for you to sit, gentle waves like your grandmother’s sweet voice.

When she wasn’t giving me shit, you thought with a laugh, digging your toes in the sand.

“The ocean makes me feel better too.”

His deep voice annoyed you more than it startled you.

Shanks sat beside you, but not too close.

Ignoring him did not make him go away.

“What do you want?”

“I wanna make your shitty day better. How can I do that?”

“Take me home.”

“Three days on that one, love. Anything more immediate?”

Your plan to stay up all night was already failing, exhaustion dragging you down.

His eyes were so soft under the moon, the hint of a smile brightening his face.

“I don’t want to sleep out in the open with everyone. Is there somewhere… safe where I can sleep?”

Shanks nodded, looking down as he cleared his throat.

“Of course, let me take you now.”

The ship itself seemed to be sleeping, so quiet with only a handful of crew watching it as the rest camped on the island.

Red hair under lantern light guided you through those wood paneled halls again, until he led you to the guest quarters.

“Here’s the key, and you’re welcome to shove this chair under the door knob as well. Breakfast will be at the beach in the morning,” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “It’ll probably be the afternoon depending on the hangovers, but you– Are you alright?”

He knelt at your feet, looking you over as you slumped onto the bed.

“How long were you out there today? Have you been drinking water? Are you…”

This charming pirate stopped himself from touching your forehead, and some insane, fatigued part of you reached out, grabbing his hand with both of yours.

“I lied,” you confessed, voice quiet and close, his pretty eyes on your lips. “I can’t cut your hand off. I’m not armed.”

The slow smile he gave you now was your favorite, somehow making the light in his eyes shine brighter. Your hands reluctantly let go of him as he shifted, but instead of moving away, Shanks touched his calloused fingers to your cheek.

“Your secret’s safe with me, sweetheart.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I am obsessed with these two now. What the heck. I need Shanks to make fun of me like that 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02

Part 2

#shanks x reader #red haired shanks #x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #one piece fics #turtletaub fics #follower celebration #fic requests #mine #fluff #one piece fluff #shanks fluff #shanks fics

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joi-me-hoi-me-noi · 4 months

Text

Winning against them in a fight - OP!

This includes: Shanks, Luffy and Zoro

TW: blood... only a bit but still including this!

SHANKS -

You watch as he wipes the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. He was smiling, adjusting the hat on his head. Why the fuck was this man smiling at you?

"What's so funny?" You walk toward him, cracking your knuckles with a slight upturn in your lips.

He stands, his build towering over your smaller one. He spits on the ground and tilts his head at you.

"Nothing's funny, I'm just happy a pretty little thing like you is taking the time out of your day to fight little ol' me."

Heat makes its way to your facial features as you place your hand over your mouth to hide your smile. He sure as hell knew how to make you flustered.

"Shut it! Do you yield?" You ready your staff for another attack, eying his movements.

His crew watches from a distance, shocked that a 'pipsqueak like you' could take down their captain.

"I'll yield if you go on a date with me." He holds out his hand to you.

"Deal." You place your hand in his and put your staff back on your back.

You feel his hat sit on top of your hair as you adjust it to not block your sight. He throws you over his shoulder and walks back toward his crew of men.

"Alright men! Drinks on me tonight!"

LUFFY -

"Damn, did you eat a devil fruit too or something?"

Your eyes widened but then you laugh out loud. "You ate a devil fruit, I thought I'd be dead by now...you're pretty weak."

He tries again to hit you. You dodge yet again and smirk.

"You have bad aim too." You click your tongue and shake your head, smile still etched on your face.

He then shoots himself forward, screaming as loudly as humanly possible. You hold out your hand, gripping his neck as he struggles against you.

"Tap out." He doesn't listen to you, he's fading.

"Tap out before you die." He squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them, tapping quickly on your forearm.

You let him go and watch him fall to the ground, taking big gulps of air with tears in his eyes.

"You're not worthy to have me on your crew, small one. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll take my lea-" You look out to the ocean and your boat is sailing away...without you.

"WHATTHEFUCK!" Your hands cover your face and you let out a loud groan.

Luffy puts his hand on your shoulder and smiles at you. "You gonna join my crew now?"

"Yes captain, I will." A soft smile graces your face as he jumps up and down with happiness.

He then groans in pain and you hold out your hands, telling him to sit down. "Dawg, I hit you pretty damn hard in the ribs...do you want me to carry you?"

He tries again to get up and then just sits on the ground still.

"Yes."

ZORO -

"What the-" Your heel connects to the underside of his face.

He groans and doesn't go down.

You hum and smile at him. "That usually messes people up. Just a little bit of blood for you, cutie."

You point to your nose and he rubs underneath it, red liquid stains his knuckles. "Nice hit, but it won't happen again."

You smile and raise a eyebrow at the man in front of you. "Oh really? Let's see if you can keep up."

You rush toward him and sweep under his feet, causing him to fall. The katana in his hand presses against your neck as you straddle his waist and hold his wrist, pinning it to the ground. Your blood drips down his katana and you hum yet again.

"Very good. You got me but you put your guard down too quickly."

You pry both katanas out of his hands, deflecting the one in his mouth and holding the other up in the air, preparing yourself to stab him. Zoro tries to deflect it but misses entirely then the sword goes into the ground a few inches from his ear.

Still holding the sword, you lean down and whisper into his ear.

"We'll meet again. Don't let this happen again, I won't hesitate next time."

You remove yourself from him and walk away from him, not turning back.

He stays on the ground for a while before collecting himself and sheathing his katanas. He was utterly speechless at his performance with fighting you. You almost killed him.

"Definitely not letting that happen again."

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soulofapatrick · 5 months

Text

They Find Out You're Pregnant: One Piece Boys

Summary: How each boy finds out you're pregnant

Words: 5.7K altogether

warnings: unplanned pregnancy but mostly fluff

Y/N's POV

The scent of sizzling spices fills the air as Sanji orchestrated a culinary symphony in the Thousand Sunny’s kitchen. His deft hands move with practiced grace, a dance that spoke of passion and expertise but for once his cooking wasn’t what got my attention. I’m sidling around Sanji, who’s lost in his world of sizzling pans and aromatic spices. The kitchen is his main, a place where he commands both ingredients and flames with the finesse of a maestro. Today, however, my attention isn’t fixed on his culinary mastery. It’s drawn, instead, to the sizeable tub of salted caramel ice cream tucked away in the freezer, calling to me with its irresistible allure.

With a casual lean, I snag a spoon from the drawer and make a beeline for the freezer. The cold air greets me as I retrieve the tub, feeling its frosty chill through the container. My taste buds dance in anticipation; there’s something about this particular flavour that has become inexplicably magnetic.

Returning to the kitchen island, I take a seat, propping myself up on one of the stools, spoon in hand. Sanji, ever engrossed in his culinary creation, doesn’t seem to notice my ice cream indulgence. He moves with a fluidity that’s almost hypnotic, each movement deliberate and purposeful.

I twist off the lid of the ice cream tub, the gentle scent of caramel filling the air. With a satisfying clink, the spoon dips into the creamy goodness, gathering a generous scoop. As I lift it to my lips, the richness of the caramel mixed with the slight saltiness dances on my taste buds, a delightful sensation that brings an unexpected comfort.

Glancing over at Sanji, I marvel at his expertise. Despite my seemingly distracted state, his instincts as a chef seem to extend beyond just the realm of cooking. His attention to detail is impeccable, noticing even the subtlest shifts in preferences. Sanji hums a tune under his breath, his focus unwavering. I continue to enjoy my impromptu dessert, relishing the smooth, cold sweetness against the backdrop of Sanji's culinary artistry.

As Sanji begins to fry food, the enticing aroma of spices fills the air once more. He orchestrates the sizzle and crackle of ingredients in a symphony of flavours, the tantalising scent mingling with the lingering sweetness of the ice cream. But as I sit there, spoon poised for another scoop, an unexpected wave of nausea washes over me. The once delightful taste of caramel now feels overwhelming. With a sudden heaviness, I place the tub of ice cream on the counter, the thud echoing louder than intended.

Sanji glances over, concern etching into his features as he notices my abrupt change in demeanour. "Are you alright, my love?” His voice, laced with worry, cuts through the sounds of the kitchen.

I manage a weak nod, but the queasiness intensifies. Without another word, I push myself off the stool and dash towards the bin, my footsteps echoing in the galley. The retching sounds reverberate in the room, a stark contrast to the harmonious melody of Sanji's cooking. Embarrassment floods me as I lean against the counter, my breaths ragged, trying to steady myself. Sanji, ever the attentive soul, swiftly moves closer, concern etched in every line of his face.

“Maybe it’s… yeah, it’s the combination of flavours.” I manage between breaths, feeling utterly mortified at the sudden turn of events. An anxiety plating in the back of my mind as I’m late for my period and have been for a week now but that’s not that unusual with the resent stresses.

Sanji's worry melts into understanding, his eyes softening with compassion. "It happens," he reassures, his hand resting gently on my back. "Sometimes, tastes change unexpectedly. Let's get you some water.” With Sanji’s comforting assurance, I try to shake off the unease gripping me. As he moves to fetch water, a sudden surge of panic knots my stomach. My mind races, the memory of my late period lingering like an unspoken secret.

“Sanji,” I blurt out, my voice quivering, catching him mid-step. His brows furrow in concern. As he turns back to me, his expression a blend of care and curiosity, “I’m late…” I manage to confess, my words stumbling out in a rush. Embarrassment and anxiety collide, painting a flush across my cheeks.

“Late…?” His voice trails off as he tries to understand me, brows furrowed.

I tug gently at his wrist, feeling a desperate need for support, for someone to share this unexpected worry with. "I don't know what to do, Sanji. It’s been a week, and… and I don't know if it’s just stress or…”

With my confession hanging between us, Sanji's eyes widen in realisation, the pieces clicking together as my distress becomes palpable. Before either of us can utter another word, another wave of nausea overwhelms me, and I lurch towards the bin once more, heaving with a force that leaves me breathless. Sanji’s concern deepens as he rushes to my side, his hands instinctively reaching for a glass of water. "Here, drink this," he urges gently, his voice laced with worry.

Gasping for air, I manage to steady myself and accept the water, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude. Sanji's swift actions and unwavering support feel like an anchor in this sudden storm of uncertainty.

”Come on," he says softly, guiding me towards the nearby couch, his arm securely wrapped around my shoulder. He kneels in front of me, his eyes searching mine with a mix of concern and care. "Are you sure?”

I nod weakly, the weight of the moment heavy on my shoulders. "As sure as I can be," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing second. Sanji's expression softens, his hand gently resting on mine. "We'll figure this out together," he assures, his voice filled with a determination to be there every step of the way, “I love you so much. We’re gonna be parents.”

Y/N's POV

The sea breeze whips through my hair as I stand on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, watching the waves dance beneath the golden sunlight. Another adventure alongside Luffy and the crew—a thrilling escapade filled with laughter, battles and unforeseen challenges.

But lately, there’s something different. A subtle fatigue creeps in, and I find myself yawning during moments of respite. It’s unlike me, the one who is usually brimming with boundless energy. Yet, I brush it off, attributing it to the rigorous journey. Each day brings its own set of adventures, and with it, an inexplicable weariness that shadows my every step. Yawning becomes a constant companion, stealing moments of wakefulness in between our exploits. Climbing rigging, engaging in battles, and exploring uncharted territories—all thrilling, yet each exertion seems to compound this unexplained exhaustion.

There's a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, a whisper of something unfamiliar. It tugs at my thoughts during quiet moments, a persistent reminder that something isn’t quite as it should be. Yet, I struggle to grasp its elusive form, brushing it aside amidst the excitement of our journey.

The crew carries on, oblivious to my inner turmoil, their spirits high as they revel in the thrill of the adventure. Luffy’s infectious laughter, Zoro’s unwavering determination, Nami’s calculating mind—all paint a vibrant picture against the backdrop of the vast ocean. Amidst the chaos and camaraderie, I can’t help but feel a sense of detachment, a solitary island amidst the bustling sea. My fatigue persists, a constant companion whose origin remains an enigma.

Luffy, with his endless curiosity and knack for noticing the smallest details, seems to pick up on my weariness before I even acknowledge it. He catches me dozing off during our travels, his wide grin turning into a puzzled expression.

"Hey, Y/N! Are you okay?" His voice, filled with genuine concern, cuts through the hustle and bustle of our adventurous escapades.

I nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just a bit tired. It's nothing, really.”

Luffy's concern persists, evident in the furrow of his brows as he gazes at me with unwavering attention. His wide, innocent eyes betray his curiosity, searching for answers that even I can't provide. "You sure?" He asks, his voice tinged with a childlike sincerity that tugs at my heartstrings.

Luffy’s concern, like an unwavering beacon of warmth, persists despite my feeble attempts to brush off my weariness. He shifts closer, his arms encircling me in an unexpected but comforting embrace from behind. His embrace is gentle yet reassuring, as if he could shield me from the exhaustion I can't shake. I can't help but chuckle softly at the suddenness of his affection, feeling a sense of ease washing over me as I lean back slightly, finding an unexpected comfort in his embrace. The weariness that had been pulling me down seems to dissipate for a moment, the warmth of his care a soothing balm to my tired soul.

But even amidst this comfort, Luffy’s intuition remains unyielding. His embrace lingers just a moment longer, his gaze still searching for answers, as if he could decipher the unspoken truths hidden behind my worn-out facade. His childlike sincerity tugs at my heart, urging me to share what I can't quite articulate.

"I'll be fine, Luffy," I say softly, trying to reassure both him and myself, though doubt niggles at the edges of my words. His concern is a testament to his unwavering loyalty and care, a reflection of the bonds we share as a crew.

Despite my attempts at reassurance, Luffy's gaze holds a depth of understanding that transcends words. He doesn't press further, but the lingering concern in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent promise to stand by me, no matter what uncertainties lie ahead. And as we carry on with our adventures, I find solace in the unspoken support of a friend who seeks to understand even the mysteries hidden beneath a worn-out smile.

His wide eyes dart between mine, a silent conversation unfolding, his desire to understand evident in the furrow of his brows. And with that unspoken exchange, he reluctantly accepts my explanation, bounding off with a promise to resume our adventure. He heads off in the direction of Nami and Robin who are talking quietly, asking them something that has them squealing and gushing over something and the three begin tot talk animatedly but too far away for me to hear.

It doesn’t take long for me to find out as Luffy’s is calling for my attention, “Hey, Y/N!” His voice is tinged with excitement. His finger points at something I hadn’t even noticed,— my slightly protruding belly, a subtle change that had slipped under my own radar as I just thought I had put on weight from the feasts Luffy makes Sanji make for us, “I think you’re gonna have a baby!” His exclamation echoes across the deck, his unfiltered joy a testament to his unique perspective on life.

The crew halts, their expressions ranging from astonishment to joyous disbelief. I stand frozen, stunned by Luffy’s innocent declaration, a revelation that I had yet to fathom. In the moment that follows Luffy’s proclamation, a bewildering realisation sweeps over me. His words—“you’re gonna have a baby”—linger in the air, and as the crew's astonished gazes shift between us, it finally dawns on Luffy that he's not just declaring my news; he's announcing his own impending fatherhood.

His wide eyes widen further, mirroring the astonishment painted across the faces of our crewmates. And then, in a flash of comprehension, a radiant grin spreads across Luffy's face, an uncontainable joy that sparks a cascade of laughter. "Wait, wait, wait! We're having a baby?!" His voice rings out, his expression a mix of disbelief and unadulterated happiness.

Without another thought, Luffy bounds over to me, his infectious laughter filling the air. He scoops me up in his arms, spinning us both around in a whirlwind of uncontainable joy. Laughter erupts from him, a symphony of excitement and wonder as he revels in the revelation. "We're having a baby!" His exclamation echoes across the deck, a declaration that marks the beginning of a new, unforeseen chapter in our adventures.

The crew, initially stunned by Luffy's proclamation, now erupts into cheers and congratulatory exclamations, their astonishment giving way to celebration. Amidst the whirlwind of laughter and cheers, Luffy's sheer delight becomes infectious, melting away any lingering shock. And as he continues to spin us both around, his joy becomes mine, intertwining our destinies in this unexpected, thrilling journey toward parenthood.

Y/N's POV

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the Thousand Sunny. It's a peaceful afternoon, the gentle sway of the ship lulling me into a sense of tranquility amid our bustling adventures. Zoro, the swordsman of unwavering determination, has always possessed an uncanny ability to notice the subtlest of changes. Today, however, would mark the day he’d discern a change within me that I hadn't yet comprehended.

I find myself sitting at the ship's bow, the soothing melody of the waves a comforting companion as I stare out into the horizon. The day had started like any other, yet a lingering unease gnaws at the edges of my thoughts, a sense of unfamiliarity that dances just beyond reach.

Zoro’s presence, like a shadow eternally by my side, draws closer. He settles nearby, his stoic gaze fixed on the horizon. "Something on your mind?" His voice, gruff yet tinged with a subtle concern, pierces the calm.

I shake my head, trying to dismiss the disquiet that has nestled itself within me. "Just thinking," I reply with a forced smile, hoping to brush off the weight of my contemplation.

But Zoro, with his unwavering perceptiveness, doesn’t seem convinced. He turns slightly towards me, his gaze assessing, as if trying to decipher the unspoken layers of my thoughts. His eyes, a testament to his keen observation, seem to search for answers that even I'm not yet ready to acknowledge.

As the day stretches into twilight, I notice Zoro's observations becoming more pronounced. He notices the slightest changes—a subtle fatigue in my stance during practice, a hesitancy in my movements that betray a newfound caution.

"Training not going as planned?" he asks casually, a hint of curiosity laced in his words.

I chuckle softly, attempting to mask the undercurrent of uncertainty. "Just feeling a bit off today, I guess."

Under the tangerine hues of the evening sky, Zoro’s scrutiny becomes more palpable. Each swing of my practice sword seems to carry an unusual weight, my movements betraying a faltering rhythm I can't seem to shake. Zoro, a steadfast presence beside me, doesn’t miss a beat. His intense focus during our training sessions amplifies, his watchful gaze tracking every subtle shift in my stance, every hesitancy that sneaks into my strikes.

“Having trouble finding your footing?” His question, tossed casually into the air, holds a knowing undertone that catches me off guard. I offer a fleeting smile, a feeble attempt to cloak the turmoil brewing beneath the surface but I wave off his concerns.

But Zoro, with his uncanny ability to read between the lines, doesn’t let the matter slide. His observant nature persists, his inquiries wrapped in the guise of casual conversation, yet laden with an unwavering determination to unravel the mystery veiled within my uncharacteristic unease. As the sun begins its descent, casting shadows that dance across the ship’s deck, Zoro’s gaze lingers, a silent sentinel amidst the encroaching dusk. His dedication to noticing the subtleties, the nuances that escape ordinary observation, serves as an unspoken reassurance in the face of my growing uncertainty.

The day had settled into a tranquil calmness, the colours of the sky merging into a breathtaking canvas of oranges and purples as the sun dipped toward the horizon. Zoro's concern had become a constant companion, a silent understanding that had evolved beyond mere words.

"Feeling better?" He asks one day, his voice holding a touch of solemnity that catches me off guard.

I hesitate, feeling the weight of his gaze. "Not quite myself, to be honest," I admit reluctantly, feeling a sense of relief in sharing even a fraction of my uncertainty.

Zoro’s expression softens imperceptibly, a rare gesture from the stoic swordsman. "If something's on your mind, you know you can talk about it, right?" His words, though simple, carry an unspoken promise of support.

I lean into his touch, finding an unexpected solace in his gesture. Resting my head on his sturdy shoulder, we both gaze out at the horizon, where the sun casts its final golden rays over the endless expanse of water.The tranquility of the moment envelops us, a sanctuary within the tumultuous uncertainty. Words become unnecessary as the serenity of the scene seems to bridge the unspoken gap between us. The weight of my worries feels a little lighter, shared in the unspoken language of companionship and understanding.

“I think I’m pregnant.” I mumble and Zoro's hand, which had been gently clasping mine, tightens slightly at my confession. His gaze, usually steady and composed, flickers with a blend of surprise and an emotion I can't quite place. For a fleeting moment, the tranquility of our shared moment is replaced by a charged energy—an anticipation that crackles between us. His grip on my hand relaxes, only to shift purposefully, cupping my chin with a tenderness that catches me off guard. His eyes, a storm of emotions, meet mine, and without a word, he pulls me closer, closing the distance between us with a possessive intensity.

In that instant, our lips meet in a fervent kiss, a silent affirmation of the unspoken dreams that had nestled in the depths of our shared future. His kiss is filled with a passionate reassurance, a promise of unwavering support and a newfound sense of purpose that we hadn't realised we were seeking.

As the golden hues of the setting sun paint the sky with their final strokes, our connection feels more profound than ever, transcending the unspoken barriers that once stood between us. The weight of my revelation seems to dissipate in the warmth of his embrace, replaced by an overwhelming sense of unity and anticipation for the journey ahead.

When our lips finally part, the tranquility of the moment returns, albeit tinged with an exhilarating sense of possibility. Zoro’s eyes, though still reflecting surprise, hold an unwavering determination—a silent vow that together, we will embrace this new chapter, our shared future now intertwined with the unexpected joy of impending parenthood.

Y/N's POV

The Red Force sails calmly across the cast expanse of the sea, the ship’s sturdy frame cutting through the gentle waves with a reassuring rhythm. Shanks, the legendary and enigmatic pirate, is as astute as he is charismatic. Little did I know, he would be the first to sense the subtle shifts within me that heralded a new chapter in our lives.

It begins with small gestures—a keen observation and a caring intervention—undetectable threats woven into the fabric of our daily interactions. Shanks, with his affable demeanour and keen intuition, notices the nuances I hadn’t yet recognised within myself.

One tranquil evening aboard the ship, I reach for a glass of wine, eager to unwind after a day of adventure. Shanks, however, intercepts the bottle before I can take a sip from it, “Not tonight.” He murmurs with a gentle smile, his gaze filled with a knowing reassurance.

Confusion clouds my features for a fleeting moment, but Shanks’ unwavering resolve speaks volumes. He offers no explanation, but his subtle gesture carries an unspoken wisdom that halts me in my tracks. A realisation flickers within me—an inkling that there might be more to Shanks’ intervention than meets the eye.

As my hand instinctively reaches for the bottle once more, Shanks, with a graceful and deliberate motion, holds it just out of my grasp. His other arm, strong and reassuring, encircles my waist, drawing me closer until I’m pressed against him, our closeness enveloped by the gentle sway of the ship. Before I can voice my confusion or protest, Shanks silences any questions with a tender yet fervent kiss. His lips, a whisper against mine, convey a message that words couldn’t encapsulate—an unspoken reassurance, a depth of understanding that transcends any explanation.

Caught off guard by the unexpected intimacy of the moment, my initial confusion dissipates in the warmth of his embrace. There’s an inexplicable comfort in the way he holds me, in the way his lips mold against mine, as if he’s communicating a profound truth without uttering a single word. In that fleeting moment, amidst the whispers of the ocean breeze and the lull of the ship, I sense the depth of Shanks’ concern—a concern that goes beyond a simple denial of wine. His actions, though unconventional, carry an unspoken promise of protection, a silent vow to shield me from something I hadn’t yet comprehended.

As the tender moment lingers, Shanks whispers against my skin, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine. "Be a good girl and stick to water tonight," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of playfulness and genuine concern. His words carry a cryptic weight, an allusion to something I've yet to fathom. His nose nuzzles against the curve of my neck, a gesture that feels both protective and intimate. "Don't want to hurt our prodigy," he adds, his tone hinting at a revelation that eludes my understanding.

Confusion and curiosity dance within me as Shanks kisses my jaw once more before releasing me. He walks away, the bottle of wine in hand, leaving me to decipher the enigmatic puzzle he has laid out. His cryptic words linger in the air, stirring a flurry of thoughts and emotions. "Hurt our prodigy?" I mull over the phrase, trying to unravel its meaning amidst the waves of uncertainty that crash within me.

The realisation dawns gradually—a glimmer of understanding emerging from the depths of my contemplation. Shanks’ words, though veiled in ambiguity, carry a hidden truth—a truth that I'm hesitant to acknowledge but can't dismiss. Could it be? The notion takes root tentatively within my thoughts, an unspoken realisation that I might be carrying something precious, something that Shanks, with his astute intuition, has sensed long before I even considered the possibility.

In a whirlwind of emotions and burgeoning realisations, I sprint to Shanks’ private quarters aboard the ship. The air crackles with a blend of uncertainty and a burgeoning anticipation that propels me forward. Racing through the door, I almost tear my shirt off, desperation guiding my movements as I position myself before the mirror.

With an anxious breath, I angle myself sideways, my eyes searching for the slightest hint of change. There it is—a subtle curve, a gentle swell that hadn’t been there before. My hand hesitantly hovers over my stomach, tracing the faint outline, a tangible proof of the truth that begins to solidify in my mind.

Before I can fully grasp the enormity of the revelation, strong and familiar arms envelop me from behind, gently covering my hands that rest upon my stomach. Shanks, with a silent understanding that transcends words, rests his chin on my shoulder, a comforting presence in this whirlwind of emotions. Tears blur my vision, a mixture of disbelief and an overwhelming rush of emotions cascading through me. Shanks' quiet embrace, his unspoken support, serves as a grounding force amidst the storm of thoughts racing through my mind.

In the mirrored reflection, I glance at Shanks, my voice laden with uncertainty, "You're not upset?" His frown, reflected in the glass, catches me off guard, stirring a fresh wave of apprehension within me.

Shanks gently turns me around to face him, his expression softening into a gentle smile. "Upset? Y/N, I've never been more thrilled," he confesses, his voice a steady reassurance that eases the knot of worry in my chest. "I've wanted this with you, with all my heart.” His words, laden with sincerity and unwavering affection, wash over me like a soothing balm. In that tender moment, surrounded by the depth of his love and his longing for a future we hadn't anticipated, the flood of emotions begins to settle.

As I process his heartfelt confession, Shanks’ demeanour takes on a mischievous glint. "Now, why don’t you get undressed?" he suggests, his voice a playful tease, though his eyes burn with an intensity that stirs a different kind of heat within me.

Surprised by the sudden shift in tone, my cheeks flush crimson. "Shanks, I..." I stammer, momentarily taken aback by his unexpected boldness but then again it was Shanks. But before I can protest further, his lips capture mine in a fervent kiss, a passionate affirmation of his desire and unwavering affection. His hands trail down my sides, urging me gently to comply with his playful suggestion.

In that moment, amidst the emotions and revelations, a sense of exhilaration surges through me—a shared understanding that despite the unexpected turn of events, our love and passion for each other remain as fiery and unyielding as ever. And as we lose ourselves in the passionate embrace, the uncertainties and worries of impending parenthood momentarily fade into the background, replaced by an intense and intimate connection that binds us together in this newfound chapter of our lives.

Y/N's POV

The Thousand Sunny basks in the warm sunlight as a peaceful day unfolds on the seas. The tranquility is interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Dracule Mihawk, the enigmatic and formidable swordsman. His presence aboard our ship sends a ripple of curiosity among the crew, but for me, it's a moment of both surprise and delight.

I rush to meet him as he steps aboard the ship, his sharp gaze meeting mine with an inscrutable intensity. His usual stoic demeanour remains unchanged, but a subtle warmth flickers in his eyes as he greets me with a restrained nod.

“Mihawk.” I breathe, a mix of excitement and curiosity lacing my voice, “What brings you here?”

He inclines his head slightly, his tone softening imperceptibly, “I wished to see you, nothing more.” As he speaks, I feel a pang of discomfort building within me—a sudden wave of nausea that threatens to overwhelm me. I try to hide it, but Mihawk's perceptive nature doesn't let it slip by unnoticed. His brow furrows ever so slightly, a minute indication of concern. "Are you feeling unwell?" he inquires, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic gentleness.

I attempt to shrug it off, summoning a weak smile. "Just a passing thing, nothing to worry about.” But Mihawk, with his keen observation skills, remains unconvinced. His scrutiny intensifies as he observes me closely, a silent but unmistakable display of attentiveness. As the discomfort escalates, I find myself rushing to the ship's railing, a sudden urge to empty my stomach. The violent bout of vomiting catches both Mihawk and me off guard.

Concern etches itself onto Mihawk's otherwise impassive features as he moves closer, his hand resting lightly on my back. "This doesn’t seem like 'nothing,'" he observes, his voice tinged with a hint of worry.

I try to downplay it, despite the relentless churning in my stomach. "Just a bug, probably," I manage between strained breaths, attempting to mask the unease bubbling within me.

But Mihawk, with his unyielding intuition, sees through the facade. "It's more than that," he asserts, his gaze penetrating, seeking answers I'm not yet prepared to acknowledge. The silence between us is charged with unspoken questions, an undercurrent of concern that we both struggle to articulate. Despite my attempts to evade the truth, Mihawk's perceptive nature latches onto the possibility that eludes my own awareness. "Have you noticed any other changes?" His inquiry is gentle but direct, his unwavering gaze locking onto mine.

I hesitate, grappling with the enormity of what his question implies. "I... I'm not sure," I falter, the weight of his question sinking in.

Mihawk nods thoughtfully, his expression unreadable yet filled with a palpable sense of understanding. "Let's find out," he suggests, guiding me to a quiet corner of the ship where we can speak privately. The rest of the crew disappearing back downstairs to give us privacy as they can gage the seriousness of the conversation Mihawk and I need to have.

He sits on the bench and I go to join him, sitting next to him, but in one smooth move he pulls me onto his lap with a surprising ease. His arms wrap securely around my waist, ensuring I’m steady against the rhythmic movements of the vessel. His touch, though firm, carries a comforting assurance, ground me amidst the uncertainty that hangs in the air.

In the cocoon of his embrace, I feel a rush of emotions—vulnerability, anticipation, and a glimmer of hope intertwined. Mihawk’s presence, his unspoken support, is a reassuring beacon of amidst the tempest feelings swirling within me. He leans in closer, his voice a soft murmur against my ear, “We’ll figure this out.” His words, through simple, carry a weight of determination and a promise of solidarity that resonates deep within me.

With a steadying breath, I meet his gaze, finding an unexpected solace in the depths of his eyes. The unspoken understanding between us weaves an invisible bond, strengthening our resolve to face the unknown together. As the ship rocks gently with the ocean's sway, our private conversation unfolds—a candid exchange filled with a raw honesty that transcends words. Mihawk listens attentively, his silence a canvas for the emotions and uncertainties I pour out.

“I’ve missed my period Mi,” I tell him softly and Mihawk's demeanour remains composed, yet a subtle shift in his expression betrays a momentary pause, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye. His touch, tender and deliberate as he brushes a strand of hair away from my eyes, betrays the depth of his emotions, concealed beneath his stoic facade.

The weight of my revelation hangs between us, a pregnant silence punctuated only by the soft sounds of the ship slicing through the gentle waves. Mihawk’s eyes, usually enigmatic and inscrutable, now reflect a spectrum of emotions—concern, contemplation, and a hint of something deeper that I struggle to decipher. He exhales slowly, his gaze never leaving mine, the depths of his eyes a kaleidoscope of emotions. "I see," he responds softly, his voice steady but laced with an underlying current of consideration.

As the words linger in the air, a wave of apprehension washes over me, uncertain of how he'll receive this unforeseen revelation. But Mihawk, with his characteristic composure, offers a calm reassurance, a quiet strength that anchors me amidst the tempest of emotions.

“Mi?” I ask quietly, shakily playing with the tufts of hair at the back of his head, twirling them through my fingers and avoiding his gaze as he’s a warlord of the sea, he’s not going to want a child, let alone a child with me.

Mihawk’s hand, strong yet surprisingly gentle, intercepts mine, halting the nervous twirling of his hair. His touch redirects my attention, guiding my trembling fingers away from their anxious fidgeting. With deliberate intent, he lifts my chin, urging me to meet his gaze, his eyes unwavering as they lock onto mine, "Stop those thoughts," he commands, his voice firm but not harsh, resonating with an unspoken intensity. It's as if he can perceive the tumultuous whirlwind of doubts raging within me, and with his unwavering gaze, he attempts to quell the storm of insecurities that threaten to engulf me.

Before I can offer any protest, any further apprehensive whispers, his lips claim mine in a kiss that silences the racing thoughts in my mind. It's a kiss filled with a passion that defies the uncertainties, a kiss that speaks volumes of his unwavering affection and a desire to shield me from my own fears. As our lips meld in a fervent embrace, Mihawk's kiss becomes a testament to his commitment, a reassurance that transcends spoken words. In that moment, amid the tangle of emotions and swirling doubts, his lips become a lifeline, a beacon of certainty in the tumultuous sea of uncertainties.

The kiss lingers, a bridge between our unspoken fears and the unyielding depth of our connection. Mihawk's touch, his fervent kiss, convey a silent promise—a promise that echoes in the depths of my being, a promise that together, we will weather whatever storms lie ahead. As the kiss concludes, a serene tranquility settles within me, a newfound sense of assurance born from Mihawk's unwavering declaration through that intimate gesture. In the quiet aftermath, his gaze holds an unspoken understanding, a mutual acknowledgment that in each other's embrace, we'll find the strength to face the unforeseen challenges ahead.

After the kiss, a soft yet resolute glint flickers in Mihawk's eyes as he gazes at me. His hand cups my cheek tenderly, his touch conveying a depth of emotion that words struggle to articulate.

"Y/N," he begins, his voice a steady reassurance, "I want this. I want this child with you." His words, though measured, carry a weight of sincerity that resonates deeply within me, "You're not alone in this," he continues, his tone unwavering. "Whatever lies ahead, we'll face it together. I'm here, and I'm staying.”

The earnestness in his declaration pierces through my uncertainties, weaving a tapestry of assurance and commitment. His unwavering support, a promise anchored in his eyes and echoed in his words, becomes a beacon of hope amidst the labyrinth of doubts, "We'll navigate this, step by step," he assures, his voice a steadfast anchor in the tumultuous sea of uncertainties. "I'm with you every step of the way.”

In that poignant moment, Mihawk's unwavering commitment and steadfast reassurance carve a path forward—a path illuminated by the warmth of his unwavering support and our shared determination to embrace the unexpected journey that lies ahead.

One Piece Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

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sexydoffyman · 8 months

Note

I'm so glad I found your blog 😭 tysm. Could I request some Fluff/Smut headcanons for shanks and mihawk (seperate if that's okay) X male reader? And can it be a Dom or top reader for the NSFW parts? If that's too much or you aren't interested please don't worry at all!

FLUFF AND SMUT HEADCANNONS

navigation

genre: fluff, smut

characters: Dracule Mihawk, Shanks

A/N: Gocha! I feel like I'm gonna throw up. 🪰

SHANKS

SFW:

He scratches your back with his beard. (You can't change my mind)

He has magic touch.

If you are in pain, he will just rub that place (A leg for example). His touch is so soft.

And for some reason, you get so much relief from the pain.

He gives off warm energy.

He likes to walk in the rain. It feels comforting to him. If you want to walk with him he will give you his coat.

He takes long ass showers.

He feels the need to cuddle with you at any given moment.

You guys will be at the bar with your crew. When he gets tired, he walks up to you and puts his head on your shoulder.

Hugs from behind.

He will fall asleep on your legs.

Dog person.

NSFW:

He loves oral in any way.

He will plead to you to get rougher with him.

He also won't hold back when sucking you off.

He is addicted to ass. Just looking at it.

He will beg you to ride him.

You can hear every sweet little moan that comes out of his mouth.

He will act all flirty and teasingly, but he falls to his knees when you touch him.

Type of dude to bark.

He loves it when your chests rub against each other.

Sleepy sex with him🔛🔝

OK, hear me out when I say marking kink.

He wants to make you his territory and, he wants to be your territory.

DRACULE MIHAWK

SFW:

He is really fond of his personal space, but you can invade it anytime.

Just let him do whatever he is doing.

If he's reading just cuddle up into his lap.

But don't you dare to take his attention off his book.

He won't admit it, but he likes it when you take care of Yoru (His sword)

He likes to do the chores with you.

It just gives him motivation when he sees you working so hard.

He put a small black heart on your transponder snail.

He has memorized everything you like and hate.

Is actually kind of cuddly.

He will lay his head on your stomach and take a nap that turns into a sleep (You don't have the heart to wake him up)

NSFW:

He is full of surprises, especially when he shows you how vocal he is.

You couldn't even recognize him from how submissive he became.

Even tho he wants to have all of the control of his body, he wanted to experiment.

Is definitely soft and has low pain tolerance.

He doesn't talk, he moans.

He will just look at you with teary eyes.

He looks so serious around other people, but with you, he is just as adorable as you.

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anemptypuddingcup · 7 months

Text

Opla Shanks’ accent will never leave me, that’s applies with Shanks regardless of which version of him I’m writing for.

“Get rough with me.” W/ Daddy Shanks.

“S-Stop k-kissing my body like that S-Shanks!~” A little mewl leaves your lips as you melted deep into the pleasure, your cunt practically dripping your sweet juices out onto his tongue. He stops so suddenly and peers his eyes up at you, tilting his head as he wondered why you demanded that he stopped being so soft and tender towards you.

“Hm? Whatever do you mean Puddin’ Pop? Do you dislike it when I’m soft and tender around you baby?~” He asks, a little giggle leaving him as he slides his tongue along the warmth of your slit once again. You gasp out before your hands press up against his ruby red strands, a needy whine leaving your lips as you arch your back off of the mattress. “M-Mhh~ I-I want y-you t-to be rougherrr~” You moan out shakily to him.

Shanks smiles at your begging, finding it rather adorable. “What if I don’t want to Puddin’?~” He asks, his fingertips pinching your clit before he rolls his thumb along it. Your toes curl and you whimper out to him before letting out a heavy sigh. “What’s wrong? Can’t speak now baby girl?~” He asks, pressing a small smooch to your clit which causes you to flinch slightly with a little mewl.

“P-Please?~ I-I want you to…get rougher with me.” You beg to him once again, giving him a little pout while he stares at you. He giggles before sitting up, his only hand helping him prop his body up and give it support. “Are you sure about this? You don’t know how rough I could get Puddin’~” He whispers to you.

You pout once again and he sighs and moves in closer to you. “Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn ya baby.”

God you didn’t realize what you were getting yourself into.

You couldn’t help but to squirm around and moan your lungs out with Shanks’ cock was kissing and slamming hard against your g-spot.

With your face pressed deep into the cotton of your pillowcase, your loud mewls were muffled and suppressed while the sounds of his hips slapping against yours echoed deep within your head. His hips were slamming hard against yours and he was groaning heavily against your ear. Your hands gripped your pillow tightly while your eyes were close to rolling to the back of your skull.

“Mmgh!~ M-Mhhh!~” You moan out loudly within your pillow while you felt yourself tightening around his length. A hiss leaves his lips as he felt your walls cling to around his cock, your velvety walls made him bite his lower lip tightly. “You’re choking my dick baby girl, does it feel good?~” He asks you, leaning over your back and pressing a smooch to your neck. He smiles as he hears you mewl out even though it’s suppressed by the pillow.

A tight grip on your curly strands causes you to whine out before he pulls on them, making you lift your head from your pillow. “I couldn’t hear you sweetie pie, you keep hiding your moans from me. Don’t hide them~” He demanded, his body pressed tightly against your back. “M-Mhmm~” You sigh out, your toes curling while you too his cock deep in your needy cunt.

“Ah ah- I want to hear you say it. Tell me it feels good Puddin’” He demanded, his eyes looking deep into your lust-filled one’s while they begin to brew with tears. “Y-Yes~ F-Feels s-so good~” You moan out to him, your nails digging deep into your pillowcase. A small chuckle leaves him before he lets out another groan, his knees digging into the comforter below both of your sticky and sweaty bodies.

A gasp leaves you followed by a whine as he continues to press smooches against your sticky skin while your orgasm grew close. “Mmgh! S-Shanks!~ F-Fuck I-I’m close!~” You gasp out, your brows furrowed while Shanks gripped your hips tightly. A smile spread across his face as he watched your cunt flutter around him so wonderfully. The farther he pulled your hips closer to his, the louder your cute and precious voice spilled out for him.

“I can feel you getting closer, you’re taking my cock in your cute little pussy like my good girl.” He presses a smooch to your lips, making you mewl out softly and shakily. You felt yourself tremble against Shanks, a gasp leaving you before you threw your head back from the pleasure.

“Does my Puddin’ Pop wanna cum around her daddy’s dick?~”

“Mmh! Y-Yes!~ I-I wanna cum!~ P-Please let me cum Shanks!~” You arch your back and at this point your nails were tearing through the pillowcase. Shanks presses another smooch to your neck before sighing heavily. “What’s the magic word? Cmon you can say it sweetie~” Shanks asks.

A whimper leaves your lips and your face scrunches from the pleasure. “P-Please!~ Please Shankyyy! I-I wanna cum around your dick~” You sigh out, raising your hips a bit higher off the mattress and allow Shanks to go deeper into you. A deep groan leaves his lips and he chuckles from your desperation.

“Aww, is someone getting desperate for daddy’s cum? You wanna squirt that badly?” He whispers to you, a mewl leaving you as you felt his cock smooch your cervix.

“Y-Yes p-please~ I-I can’t h-hold it much longer~ I-I wanna cum on your cock so baddd~” You begged, your voice breaking a bit as you felt yourself unable to hold on much longer. A smirk spreads across Shanks’ face and he giggles.

“Alright alright. You can cum on my cock baby girl, you’re such a good girl taking me in like this~” He says, giving you the permission to finally release around his length. A sudden gasp leaves you as you felt him increases the speed of his thrusts, making your voice grow louder yet more hoarse. “Let daddy help you, it seems you can’t do it much on your own.” He teases you.

“Y-Yes! Oh yes!~ Mmhh! I feel it c-coming!~” You gasp out, sinking in your face deep within your pillow while you took his all of his cock see inside. A lengthy mewl begins to spill from your lips as you abruptly cum on his cock, your juices spilling out into the comforter below your body. Shanks hisses from the your gummy walls clinging to his thick length and he couldn’t really hold it much longer either.

“Mmh~ I-I’m about to cum baby girl, you’re gonna take my cum like my good girl aren’t ya?” He asked you to which you respond with a nod. “Cmon sweetie, tell me with your words.” He demands. “Y-Yes~ I-I’ll take your cum deep inside Shankyyy~” You moan out to him, your tone making his tremble with excitement.

A few more thrusts inside of your cunt makes him pull your hips close and tight against his before he finally releases into your needy pussy, the feeling of your walls spasming around his only enhancing his pleasure. “Ooh good girl~ Keep sucking it all in just like that~” He gasps, a little chuckle leaving him as he fills your insides up to the brim.

A satisfied sigh leaves you as your hips relaxes back against the mattress, the warmth of his load soothing you as his filled your womb up. Shanks smiles and rubs your lower tummy, making you mewl out from the sudden contact. “Good girl, you took it all inside of your pussy.” He praises you, pressing a smooch to your lips.

You mewl out softly while your hand waffles with his. “Feels so good Shanks~” You sigh happily to him. He chuckles and presses a smooch to your lips once again, his hand hold your tightly yet lovingly. “Ya won’t ask me to be rough again will you?” He asked you, quirking a brow.

You giggle to him. “Of course I am. I want you to be rough with me next time. Get mean with me~” You tease, staring into his half-lidded and sleepy eyes. He smiles. “I guess I’ll have to be meaner next time, I’ll admit I was still soft and delicate on you baby girl.” He admits to you.

#one piece #one piece smut #one piece fluff #op smut #op fluff #one piece x female reader #one piece shanks #op shanks #shanks smut #shanks fluff #akagami no shanks #puddingcupimagines

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ageingfangirl2 · 7 months

Text

Welcome Home! Shanks (OPLA)

You only see Shanks once a year, and when you do you like to take care of him. Shanks x Female Reader fluff :) You wanted more Shanks so here he is!

SHANKS

'Captain we're here!' Yasopp calls out, knocking on my quarter's door.

After spending a year at sea it was always nice to come back to Prisluake, a small island we'd discovered by chance. It became known as The Lake of the Princesses because the town revolved around a lake and there were lots of attractive women which being a pirate crew meant some good times.

Everyone on the island was friendly, there were places to restock the ship and plenty of good food and drink. But there was one extraordinary person I insisted on coming back to see even if I had to use the guise of restocking the ship as an excuse.

y/n owned a small place just off the docks that had some of the best fish dishes I and my crew had ever tasted, but it wasn't just the food that drew me in three years ago. y/n had a twinkle in their eye that lit up when I told them stories, a warm smile that put everyone at ease and a friendly demeanour that made you want to be around them.

I let out a yawn, we'd had some rough weather on the way here so sleep had become almost impossible, but that wouldn't stop me from reuniting with y/n. I pick up a wooden box containing a gift for y/n and head out of my quarters. Even though y/n had never left their island they were obsessed with maps and compasses, so I made sure to get them a new compass each time we came through.

I didn't need to tell the crew what to do, we were a well-oiled machine, so I left them to their own devices and headed off the ship. The first thing I noticed was the closed sign on y/n's place, then again it was still the morning and they didn't open until the afternoon so I'd find them at their house.

Before I can even knock on the front door it swings open revealing a very happy and beautiful y/n, 'I thought you were due yesterday, welcome back.'

Another yawn escapes my lips, 'rough seas. Were you worried about me?'

y/n blushes slightly and shakes their head, 'No...you can take care of yourself Shanks...come inside...'

I walk inside and place the wooden box down, only to have y/n throw themselves at me and kiss me on the lips. For a second tiredness leaves me and I fully embrace y/n, keeping my arm around their waist to secure them and kissing back with equal neediness.

y/n pulls back, 'How long are you here for?'

I rest my forehead against theirs, 'we don't have anywhere to be so short while, why?'

y/n smirks, 'Good, because if I'm being honest you look like hell in the nicest way possible, so all this can wait a day.'

Now those were not the words I expected to come out of y/n's lips but I can't help but throw my head back and laugh. y/n was warm and friendly, but had a sharp tongue and wasn't afraid to speak their mind which made being around them just that bit more exciting.

'Thanks. Then I'm going to bed, and you're coming with me.'

y/n shakes their head and pats my hair, 'No. You should have a bath first.'

This was a priceless interaction, and I can't help but continue laughing as I carry y/n towards their bathroom, 'okay, but if I pass out and drown, that's on you.'

y/n must have got word the ship was coming because the bath was already run. I place them down and they start undressing me, being gentle around my lost arm because I was still getting used to it even though the incident with Luffy was over a year ago. When I first came back to y/n they fawned over me and I'd be lying if I didn't like the attention, and knew they were special when they kissed the scarred stub and called me brave. After a couple of drinks, they called me stupid but went back to lavishing me with praise.

I slip into the warm water and y/n comes up behind me and kneels down, 'you treat me well y/n,' I say, in more of a whisper, letting the water soothe my aching muscles.

y/n hums, 'Everyone needs a little TLC Shanks.'

I close my eyes as they start to wash my hair, and let out a sigh of contentment when y/n massages my scalp. After they are done I open my eyes and turn my head to meet their eyes, 'you really are special to me y/n.'

y/n's smile reaches their eyes, and despite my dripping wet hair, I bring up my hand to cup their chin and kiss them tenderly on the lips. y/n's cheeks were a bright shade of red as I moved my thumb over their cheek in a caress, 'God you've got me hooked captain.'

After some more soft kisses, y/n washed my whole body, and if I wasn't in awe and tired I might just have pulled y/n into the tub with me to feel more of their touch on my body. But they said earlier we had time to do that, but right now I was at ease being taken care of.

y/n helps me out of the tub, but before they can get a towel on me I scoop them up in arms and march out of the bathroom with a squirming and giggling y/n in my arms, '...stop Shanks...' y/n slaps my bare chest.'

We enter the bedroom and I put y/n down on the end of the bed, their now damp clothes clinging to them, 'see I stopped.'

y/n rolls their eyes and gets off the bed, 'You're one a kind Shanks. Now get yourself in bed,' they demand but sound playful.

y/n pulls the sheets back and I put my hand on my chest, 'how am I meant to sleep with you talking dirty?' I joke.

I climb into the bed and am surprised when y/n joins me, pulling the sheet over the two of us, 'I'll stay until you're asleep. Then when you wake up I'll cook you a nice meal and you can do whatever you want to me. Deal?'

I pull y/n against my chest and smirk, 'You drive a hard bargain but you have a deal.'

It wasn't until I shut my eyes and felt y/n tracing lines across my chest that the full weight of tiredness took over. I guess I could sleep for a couple of hours.

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badgerbl00d · 7 months

Text

first dates with the one piece boys

☆ characters: shanks, crocodile

☆ up next: taking an aphrodisiac w/ one piece boys ft. ace, kidd, and law

☆ summary: first dates with shanks and crocodile, crocodile is kind of as asshole but he's whipped so like it's cute..., suggestive content

☆ a/n: i'm back! i'll try to post something else this week but uni is kicking my ass :p requests are open!

☆ 18+, mdni

shanks:

“Ready, sweetheart?”

You blushed, nodding as you tried to ignore the cheers and whoops that erupted from the rest of the crew on board.

Shanks shot a look over his shoulder and you were rewarded with immediate silence.

He placed a hand on the small of your back and gently guided you alongside him onto the island.

“Use protection!” someone called out. Definitely Yasopp.

“Ignore ‘em,” Shanks said.

“So you don’t wanna use protection?”

Shanks shot you a look, surprised at your quip, “No! Yes! I mean- well, no… We don’t have to y’know- Whatever you want to do ....”

“Very smooth, Captain.”

He laughed, bringing you toward him, and placed a rough kiss on the top of your head.

“Ya make me nervous, what can I say?”

Your chest contracted at this confession. You felt an embarrassing amount of pride watching him rendered so uncharacteristically bashful from your words.

You slipped your hand into his, giving him a soft squeeze, “Just cause this is a date doesn’t mean anything changes between us.”

“Well, we might kiss. And according to you we might fu-”

“Shanks.”

He laughed, louder this time, “Sorry, sorry. I think you’ll like where I’m taking you.”

There was a cool breeze making its way over both of you, giving you temporary reprieve from the summertime warmth the city was buzzing with. Overgrown trees and flower bushes poured into the lamp-lit streets.

You talked with each other, never a dull moment between the two of you, as you walked toward wherever Shanks was planning on taking you.

By the time you stopped walking, you’d made it to a much more empty part of town.

Shanks pointed to a sign on the corner, ‘Happy Hour 8 p.m. - 10 p.m.’

“A bar,” you mused, playfully rolling your eyes at him, “How surprising.”

He smiled and tugged at the strap of your dress, “Tsk, tsk. So impatient.”

He led you into the dinghy building, the wooden door damaged from what you imagined was years of drunk patrons spilling their drinks over themselves and their surroundings. The inside was dusty and it looked as though no one had used it for years.

“Your usual, honey?” Shanks asked, approaching the bar.

“Please.”

He smiled at you, “Yes, captain.”

God, he was handsome.

You watched Shanks ordering your drinks from where you stood, looking at his face through the mirror behind the bartender. You pressed your thighs together as a familiar pulsing sensation began coursing through your lower half. You accepted long before this date that it was beyond your control- he was just so handsome. He ran a hand through his hair, winking at you in the mirror. You blew him a kiss and though you couldn’t be sure in the dim light a pale blush seemed to spread over his features.

“One martini please, with three olives. And a Gin and Glamour.”

You shot him a look, Gin? You?

“Follow me this way,” the bartender said.

A smirk settled onto your captain’s face and he beckoned you toward him.

The bartender opened a tall door that seemed to lead to darkness.

“Enjoy,” he said. Curiosity had completely taken over and you led the way through the dark hallway, the faint sound of a bass being plucked echoing through, until you reached the end which was covered with a thick velvet curtain.

You pushed through, Shanks’ hand once again finding itself on your back, though much lower this time.

Soft, warm light lit up the room. Your eyes immediately jumped to the jazz band in the center illuminated by a red light. “… and in July, a lemonade, to cool you…,” the singer was halfway through "I Wish You Love". There were booths stationed around, with dark mahogany tables and wine-red velvet couches. Several other couples were spread through the bar, the soft buzz of background conversation filling the room.

“Shanks,” you gasped.

“You didn’t really think I’d take you to a shitty bar for our first date did ‘ja?”

“I’m going to choose not to answer,” you smiled, taking his hand in yours. For a split second your attention was taken away from the room you were in and you could only focus on the feeling of your hand in his- his strength apparent even without him trying.

“Must suck having to be the guy up front, huh?”

You giggled and pulled him toward an empty booth with a good view of the band, “I’ll say. Though I would like that martini.”

“How ‘bout you go sit and I’ll grab it for you, sweetheart,” he said, gently patting your ass as you turned.

With your drinks in hand, Shanks sat next to you, pulling you in closer to him. “Looks like we’re the only new couple in here,” he whispered in your ear, gesturing over toward a couple in the middle of a heated makeout session. You smiled at him, your eyes glimmering with mischief, “Hm, wanna try blending in?”

Shanks smiled, catching on to your request. You sipped your martini and bit an olive off of the toothpick that rested in the glass.

“We’ve kissed before, y’know.”

“We have!? I think I’d remember if we had,” he returned.

“No, no, we did,” you said, and he gave you a look that begged you to elaborate, “It was a few months back- when we did that stupid drinking contest. We were both pretty drunk, but I’d drank a lot less than you. Anyways, um, everyone had gone to bed or, I dunno, gone to find something else to do and we were left alone on deck. Unsupervised.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him earning a laugh.

“I don’t remember it well, but I remember we laughed after. A lot.”

Shanks was smiling, resting his head on his hand as he gazed up on you. You averted your gaze.

He moved quickly and by the time you realized what was happening you were already sinking into the kiss, bringing a hand up to grab the collar of his shirt, anything to stabilize yourself.

Your heart was crawling up your throat, Shanks’ eyes were closed tight and he was clearly trying to savor every moment of the indulgent feeling of your lips against his. It warmed your heart that a man so feared on the open sea was reduced to a gentle, eager mess the moment he kissed you.

You leaned further into him and his arms wrapped around your waist, his hands palming at your hips. His facial hair tickled and poked your face earning a head-spinning giggle from you. Shanks pulled away, his breaths short and

“I want to tell you how long I’ve been wanting to do that but apparently this isn’t my first time kissing you,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The jazz band had started a new tune, longer notes and the steady strum of the bass playing a rendition of Waltz for Debby, further amplifying the intimacy between the two of you.

“Hopefully you remember this one,” you said smirking at him, “Or do you need a more memorable one?”

“Are you asking to kiss me again? Or do you just want confirmation that you’re a good kisser?”

“I am a good kisser. Better than you, anyway.”

“HA! You don’t even come close!”

“So arrogant, Captain. But I’d love to prove you wrong,” you took another sip of your drink.

Pinching his cheeks between your fingers you pulled him toward you, this time savoring how he tasted. The bitterness of the whiskey on his lips coated your mouth as you slipped your tongue past his. Shanks’ breathing deepened and his fingertips sunk further into your hips- you could feel where you’d find bruises tomorrow morning. You brought a hand up to softly hold his throat and he moaned-

Oh god, he moaned!

You pulled away pupils blown and lips puffy.

Shanks’ cheeks were deep red, a sight that had your ego swelling.

“You know,” he started, breathless, “I think you may be right.”

You smiled and finished the rest of your drink, “Need more evidence?”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead, running a hand through your hair.

“As a matter of fact, Y/n, I do.”

It was late when you finally found your way back to the ship. Shanks’ face was covered in red blotches of your smeared lipstick and your lips were equally messy. Your dress strap was falling off of your shoulder and Shanks’ shirt was plenty unbuttoned.

“Well,” he said, placing a kiss on the back of your hand, “Now you get to choose.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“My bed or yours?”

You laughed and wrapped your hands around his neck to bring him down for another kiss.

“Yours.”

(whipped!)Crocodile:

“You owe me money, Croc.”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

He reached for your hand, which you let him take.

He pressed his lips to it and started to trail kisses up your arm until you stopped him by pushing him off you and taking a seat on his lap.

“If I go to dinner with you will you give me my money?”

“You’ll get it either way, sweetheart. A job well done is a job well done. I just want to take you out.”

Liar, you thought.

But still, you took a second to think about it, letting him wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder, kissing your collarbone.

You were intoxicating to him, completely overwhelming all of his senses. He knew how unprofessional it was to involve himself with the assassins for hire he dealt with but this was now his eighth time working with you and though you always did a fantastic and clean job, the quality of your work wasn’t really the reason he was hiring you anymore.

“Where would you take me?”

“Desert Point. Or anywhere you wanted, really. I’ll cook for you if you’d like.”

You shifted in his lap, letting your thighs straddle his hips, and looked up at him.

He pulled out a cigar from his breast-pocket, which you quickly snatched from his hand, “I hate the smell.”

He put a hand up in surrender and placed the cigar back in his pocket.

Your eyes were focused on him, looking at his lips and trailing a finger up his neck. Your lips pouted as you considered his offer and the smell of your perfume filling every nook and cranny of his office and still, it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted all of you.

The two of you had, of course, had a handsy encounter or two and you were more than familiar with how he tasted after a long night of office work and whiskey. But, greedy and selfish as ever, the warlord wanted more. He wanted you. In the mornings in his bed, and at night by his side.

“Alright. You can cook for me, I suppose.”

He smiled, not even trying to fight the rare display of happiness.

“Any requests?”

You got up from his lap, batting away his hands which tried to grab you and hold you.

“Don’t burn anything. I’ll bring a bottle of that whiskey you like,” you said heading open the door to his office, “Tomorrow night at 7.”

Crocodile leaned back in his chair, savoring the lingering smell of you that had been making it difficult to concentrate for the past week, and waited until the click on your heels was far enough away to call Miss All Sunday and ask that she, “Please cancel all my appointments tomorrow.”

You knew Crocodile’s apartment well, having paid a few unknown visits and a few known ones. The last time you visited was after Crocodile had begged you to stop by for a glass of wine. You ended up drinking closer to five and neither of you could remember anything the morning after. You did, however, take note of the safe in his office where, if Baroque Works intel was anything to go off of, he kept the cash he used to pay black market hires such as yourself. Tonight would be a perfect opportunity to get your money, which you suspected he had no real intention of giving you.

Dinner had gone well and you found yourself in his office, lounging on his couch.

A jazz record played softly in the background and you’d both taken off a few layers of clothing. The only lighting was provided by a few candles he’d lit and you sat facing each other, each several glasses of wine in.

“Stay here for a while,” he said, softly rubbing up and down your leg which you had draped over his lap, “With me.”

“I have work, Croc.”

“I’ll hire you, full-time.”

“No offense to your…. staff, but their work is a bit beneath me.” He laughed, “Then I’ll fund your stay here. You won’t pay for anything.”

This interested you. Staying a week in the nicest apartment on the continent with Crocodile wasn’t such a terrible deal. You swished your wine around in your cup.

“Will you cook?”

“For you? Of course.”

You stared at him and pretended to pass the thought over as he kissed your neck and palmed at your ass.

“Give me a chance to convince you to stay.”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

A smirk settled on his face and he pulled you in for a kiss.

You indulged him and deepened the kiss, letting your tongue slip past his lips.

You giggled and sunk into his hold on you, his big hands holding you steady.

“I’ll stay, I’ll stay,” you buried your face into his chest, trying to fight the warmth in your cheeks.

The warlord squeezed you even tighter, earning a bout of laughter from you that placed a smile on his face.

“This is bad for your image you know. You’re getting soft,” you mused, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I promise you I am anything but soft right now.”

“Ha. Ha.”

He wrapped a hand up into your hair, gently pulling back at the base of your neck so he had full access to your neck, and sunk his teeth in biting gently so as not to draw blood but not gently enough to avoid leaving a mark.

Your back arched into him and you mewled at the feeling, your nails digging into his shoulder.

He brought your head back up and kissed you.

You brought your hands up to his collar and began undoing his tie, leaving it hanging on his shoulders.

Slowly and without interrupting the kiss, you began undoing the buttons on his shirt. Crocodile leaned back into the couch to make your job easier and began undoing his belt, which you took from him.

Crocodile went to bring his hands back up to your neck but- they didn’t move.

He looked down and his belt was fastened around his wrists. He tried to tear it but you’d done a damn good job and he was rendered rather helpless.

You got up and, after placing a soft kiss on his forehead, made your way to the safe behind the painting on the wall.

“You said you’d stay!”

Not that it was much of a problem for him but Crocodile preferred when things went over smoothly.

“Did I? Hmmm,” you said, ear to the safe as you turned the dial listening for the telltale click that let you know you unlocked it, “I lied.”

Click!

“And if I make you stay? This makeshift restraint isn’t sea prism stone.”

You laughed and turned to look at him.

“Go ahead.”

He scoffed. You both knew well you were the last person on earth he’d ever harm.

“I’m gonna take my money and then some as a tip, alright? I will miss you though,” you said, making sure his arms were still tied in his lap.

He couldn’t help but smile as you turned back around to the very empty safe.

Your stomach dropped.

“Where is the money-”

“Like I’d keep it here, sweetheart. Especially not with you coming over.”

“You’re a thief. And a dirty one at that.”

“I’d take more offense if it wasn’t coming from you.”

You huffed and turned to his desk where you were quickly opening and closing drawers looking for where he’d moved the money.

“Come and finish your wine, Y/n.”

“It isn’t here, is it? You’re a liar and a thief,”

He stayed silent and gestured toward your spot on the couch, a satisfied smirk settled on his infuriatingly handsome face.

“Crocodile…” you warned, “I think you know better than to not pay me.”

He smiled, as though daring you to continue. Or what? the expression on his face begged.

“Stay the week with me,” he said as you approached, “Please.”

You took your seat next to him and looking down at his hands noted the very significant absence of a belt tied around them. Your heartbeat picked up as he used a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re good, sweetness, but I’m better.”

You sighed and let him kiss you, reluctantly leaning into his touch.

“You’ll stay the week.”

You nodded and were upset at yourself for feeling excited at the thought. You felt like a schoolgirl holding her crush’s hand.

“Shall we go to bed then?”

He smiled and picked you up princess-style, one arm around your waist and one under your knees.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed a kiss on his cheek, “If you keep this game going you’ll end up having to marry me, you know.”

He smiled, his most sincere smile of the night.

“Ah, wouldn’t that be terrible?”

#shanks #shanks one piece #red hair shanks #red hair shanks one piece #shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks x y/n #shanks fluff #i love shanks i need him so bad #crocodile #crocodile one piece #sir crocodile #sir crocodile one piece #crocodil x you #crocodile x reader #crocodile x y/n #crocodile fluff #crocodile smut #badgerbl00dwrites

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chromium-daze · 8 months

Text

Fun Fact

Shanks x GN!Reader (drabble, can be seen as romantic and/or platonic)

172 words Very short simple fluff ~no warnings except to lyk my handwriting ... it's there

---

"Hey, Shanks," you whisper, motioning for him to move closer. He looks up from the newspaper in his hands, his eyebrow raised.

"What, can't you just come over here? You're too far away..." He whines.

You shake your head and smile, continuing to beckon him towards you. He rolls his eyes and moves over to you.

Everything is silent for a good few seconds.

"Did you know that a single cow makes an average of 200,000 glasses of milk in its lifetime?" You receive a deadpan stare in return.

"Are you serious?" The biggest grin makes its way onto your face. "You made me come all the way over here, making it seem like some sort of big deal only to tell me this?" He puts his hand to his chest as he forces a frown. "And here I thought you were gonna confess your undying love to me..."

"Oh stop being such a baby, captain. Do you not appreciate this information I have so graciously bestowed upon you?"

"No."

"Boooooooooooo."

---

i hope you guys like this fun fact that i can't get out of my head because i've said it too many times now

#shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks fluff #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #one piece drabble #gn reader #everybody can read this

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turtletaubwrites · 2 months

Text

A Good Catch ~ Part 2

Thank you so much for all of your support! This was part of my 600 Followers Celebration, and I am so happy y'all voted for Shanks. I adore him 🥰

Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5030

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 (End)

Ao3 Link

Summary: You've got a few burning questions for this charming captain, but soon you'll be answering his. Is it really safe to trust a pirate?

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, Alcohol, Brief Discussion of Family Trauma, Hair Pulling, Vaginal Fingering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex, (Be safe out there), Birth Control, Aftercare, Shanks is such a fucking tease

A/N: I just love this hungover pirate 😅

A key pressed into your palm. A gentle hand on your lower back. A whispered demonstration, keeping your secret.

Shanks stared at you through the doorway, looking down the hall before grabbing your chin with his thumb, another slow smile on those lips.

“Sweet dreams.”

His eyes crinkled as all you could do was nod, watching him walk away down that lantern lit hall.

The key still held the warmth of his skin.

Fuck.

The metal thumped onto wood as you tossed it on the desk, shoving the chair under the doorknob, just like he’d shown you.

Exhaustion pulled you down, and you rolled yourself into soft blankets, grateful that your mind only had the energy for a few more conflicting thoughts before sleep took you.

He’s done everything he can to make me feel safe.

He’s a pirate.

His crew are all so kind, it feels like they’re a family.

He’s a pirate.

He’s gorgeous, and funny, and sweet, even though he’s annoying as fuck.

But he’s a pirate. And he’ll be leaving in three days. I’ll never see him again.

Dreams of life on the high seas left you foggy in the morning, panic running through you until you remembered where you were.

Thank gods there’s a bathroom in here.

The guest quarters didn’t have a shower, but the toilet, mirror, and sink were a godsend. Cringing at your hair, you got to work, managing to tame it before you climbed back into Shanks’ clothes.

They smell like him.

Resisting the urge to sniff his shirt took more willpower than you’d like to admit.

Quiet.

There was hardly a sound on the entire ship as you struggled to remember the way out.

“Mornin,” came a gruff voice on the deck, waving from his perch on the railing. The light of the sunrise made his brown skin and dark blonde dreads seem to glow.

You would have thought he was attractive if your eyes hadn’t gone wide at the two large pistols on his hips.

“You’re up early,” he continued, tilting his body and moving his hands away from his weapons.

“Fisherwoman,” you choked out.

“That’s right,” he laughed, standing to take a few slow steps toward you. “I’m Yassop. I can bring you down to the beach if you’d like, but I'm sure everyone’s still snoring like sea lions.”

“Is the captain down there?”

“Oh, he’s down there,” Yassop teased, his smirk making you clench your teeth. “Yours might be the only face that could wake him up this early.”

“And why’s that,” you growled, following him across the deck.

“Oh no, I’m not getting into the captain’s business.”

You scowled at the chuckling marksman all the way down to the beach.

“Wake up.”

Shanks whined, weakly batting away the driftwood stick you were poking into his chest. You definitely weren’t getting distracted by the pull of those muscles as he stretched on his makeshift hammock.

The camp looked just as it did last night, except that every mug, plate, and pirate was now on the ground, quiet and still besides the orchestra of snores that Yassop hadn’t exaggerated.

“Get up.”

Shanks rubbed his hand over his face, somehow managing to look stunning even as he struggled to get his eyes open.

“Ugh, fish girl,” he yawned, keeping his hand over his eyes now, blocking out the light. “Are we under attack?”

“What? No. I need to talk to you.”

He peeked through his fingers at you, the hint of that teasing smile already showing.

“If you wanna spend time with me, all you have to do is– ow!”

Another quick jab to those lovely pecs had Shanks rolling out of the hammock, hanging onto your shoulder as he wobbled on his feet.

The driftwood stick fell to the ground as his pretty eyes, heavy lidded with sleep, came so close to yours.

“Sorry,” he rasped, letting his hand trail down your arm before letting you go. “Somebody woke me up too early.”

“I guess pirates are just lazy degenerates after all,” you said flatly, holding in the shivers his touch had caused.

“Degenerates,” he laughed softly, rubbing along his brow as he took in the sight of his hungover men sprawled across the sand. “I suppose that’s fair.”

Groaning, you picked up the stick, gasping as his hand gripped yours. He trapped your fingers around the dry wood, tracing his thumb along your knuckles as he prevented you from poking him.

“Please, fish girl, have pity on an old–” he cut himself off at your frown, “on a handsome, young, very hungover pirate.”

He chuckled as you tried to wrest yourself from his grasp, and he didn’t let you go this time.

“I can’t think this early, love. Not without breakfast, or a shower at least.”

“Fine, let's go take a– I mean you! You take a shower! You’re all sandy…”

His laughter followed you as you stomped your way back to his stupid ship.

Shanks’ laughter had been replaced by more whines as he held his hand over his eyes, getting you lost in the ship on the way to the bathing room.

Finally at the large door to that tiled room, the shaky captain spun to face you. He managed to catch himself on the door frame as he stumbled, then leaned against it as if it were on purpose.

You rolled your eyes as he pulled a scarf from his pocket, dangling it in front of your face.

“Guard the door for me?”

“What? Why?”

“Guess I’ll just go back to slee–”

“Fine,” you said through gritted teeth, grabbing the scarf as you slid to the floor. “Aren’t you too tired to be this annoying?”

“Not in the slightest.”

You could feel him crouch beside you, and saw his feet beneath the blindfold.

He traced around the scarf to check your work, rubbing his thumb along your temple before tugging the fabric further down your nose.

“No peeking,” he purred, and you hoped he hadn’t seen your toes curling, your feet still bare without clean shoes.

“Like I’d want to.”

“Lying is bad for the soul, fish girl,” he teased, tapping the tip of your nose with a finger before heading inside. The sound of his satisfied laughter made you want to crawl out of your skin.

Sitting there, listening to the rush of water as this man showered on the other side of the door, was making you absolutely insane.

He’s a pirate. He’s here for a reason. I can’t get distracted.

“Sorry, I forgot to bring a change of clothes,” his deep voice poured through the door. “Someone interrupted my beauty sleep.”

“So?”

“So, I’m in a towel, we’ll have to stop by my quarters. You can keep the blindfold on if you like.”

“You’ll get us lost again,” you complained, pushing yourself to your feet as you pulled the scarf from your face. “Besides, your shirts show practically your whole torso anyway, so it won’t be much different.”

The door opened wide, Shanks’ smile even wider as your lips parted.

“You really like my shirts, don’t you?”

You managed to frown at him as he grabbed his sandy clothes and shoes, holding them against his hip, just a towel around his waist.

And that line of dark, red hair.

“Mind closing the door for me, darlin’?”

You jolted out of your stupor, shutting the door before following him down the hall.

Some water still dripped from his hair, slow rivulets flowing down the muscles of his upper back, some trailing even further…

“What,” you chirped, trying to remember what he’d just said.

He clicked his tongue a few times, shaking his head to let more shining drops of water dance down his skin.

“Waking the captain up early just to ignore him? Did all your manners fall off your boat with your missing oar?”

“Shut up,” you huffed, standing to face him in front of the door to his quarters.

Shanks was not doing well at suppressing his self satisfied grin, and you were having trouble focusing on anything at all.

“Will you get the door for me, love?”

“Why,” you countered, still trying to keep your eyes glued to his face.

“You really argue about everything, don’t you?”

He shook his head, then dropped his clothes and shoes to the floor. The sound of the shoes startled you, bringing your eyes down.

Just in time to see his towel slipping, more of that dark red hair traveling down before you squeaked, turning around and clamping your eyes shut.

Shanks brushed past, the heat of his body, the scent of his skin, so close. He paused behind you as he opened the door, and you couldn’t hide your small gasp as he breathed that deep, dangerous voice along your neck.

“Guess you should have kept the blindfold on.”

You held your breath as you tried not to shake, listening as he moved away. Soft chuckles teased you through the air as he shut the door.

Breath came back to you, heavy, and too loud, as you turned to find his clothes and the damp towel on the ground.

It had just happened, but the memory of him breathing on your skin with nothing on his own sent heat twisting in your core.

He’s a pirate. He’s leaving. I’ll never see him again.

Shanks came out with a smirk, the shirt he’d chosen today not tucked or buttoned at all, just the sleeve tied off at his missing arm.

“What’s the point of wearing a shirt at all,” you huffed, taking the change of clothes he offered.

“Because you seem to enjoy it so much,” he called through the door as you changed.

It felt like your head was about to explode with all the shit he was doing to you. It was embarrassing, and you had to focus.

You crossed your arms when you faced him in the hallway, trying to shut down every part of your brain that wanted to fucking giggle when he looked at you.

“What are you–”

“That color looks good on you,” he hummed with a crooked smile, tugging the rolled up fabric of his shirt at your elbow.

You stuttered, but he turned on his heel.

“W-Wait!”

“Let’s talk over breakfast.”

That stupid red hair walking away almost made you scream.

The Red Hair Pirates were in various stages of wakefulness now, but many were already drinking, laughing, and singing as if the night had never ended.

Shanks moved through them with an effortless joy, clasping hands, patting backs, laughing and joking with every crew member that wasn’t still passed out.

That dingy table. Mismatched chairs. Surprisingly good food.

A knee that kept brushing against yours, rubbing along your thigh everytime he turned to talk to you.

He was pushing all the boundaries. And you’d let him. You pulled him in last night, and now he was playing, testing, torturing you.

But you knew he would stop if you asked.

How can I trust someone so fast?

“You wanted to talk about something,” he asked, leaning back after his last bite.

His wicked grin made you regret asking to speak in private.

Warm sand slowly shook from your feet as you crawled over rough stone. Shanks whined a few more times after you led him away from camp, but soon he was walking beside you, with another breathtaking smile. Now and then over the gentle waves, you swore you heard him humming the notes to a song.

“Y/N, look at this one,” he laughed, pointing to another tide pool.

You sat on the rock beside it, the hint of a smile on your lips as he joined you.

So close.

“So what did you wanna talk about,” he asked, voice still soft like those soothing waves. He reached out to hand you a little stone he’d picked up.

The warm stone fell into your palm, helping you stay present as you rolled it between your fingers.

“What are you doing on my island,” you questioned, finally meeting those pretty eyes. “You said you have business here, and I need to know that you aren’t endangering my home.”

“Endanger–,” he cut himself off with a laugh, his brows furrowing as he shook his head at you. “You didn’t need to make up excuses if you wanted to spend the day with me, fish girl.”

“Shut up,” you growled, fighting not to let his annoying charms distract you this time. “You’re pirates. You said you had business on this side of the island for three days. What are you doing here?”

“I did say ‘business,’ didn’t I,” he mused, nodding to himself before looking across the beach.

“Well,” you pushed, struggling as he met your eyes, his face so relaxed, amused.

“This is it,” he gestured vaguely, his crooked smile giving you a headache.

“What do you mean? You mean your business is here, at this beach?”

“No, Y/N,” he rasped, grabbing your hand and squeezing it, the little stone pressing into your palm. “This is it.”

He nodded toward the camp, and let out a sigh.

“We’re on vacation.”

This smile of his made him look like a little kid that got caught stealing sweets. You blinked at him.

After a long pause, he took his hand from yours, bringing it to your chin to push your mouth closed.

“Don’t fucking mess with me.”

Your voice came out rough as you pushed yourself back, almost slipping into a tide pool as you stood.

“I swear I’m not messing with you,” he let out with a small groan as he stood. He moved in close before he wobbled his head back and forth. “Well, I’m not messing with you about that.”

“Fuck you,” you seethed, head going foggy with the overwhelming flood of emotions from the last day.

Shanks moved in slowly with his arm outstretched as if he were trying to calm a frightened animal. Or a child.

And you acted like a child, frustrated tears burning in your eyes, hitting your fists against his chest as he got too close.

“Stop lying to me! Please don’t hurt people here, please don’t–”

“Shh, shh,” he hushed you gently, somehow managing to hold you against him with one arm, your hands shaking between your warm bodies.

“We’re not here to hurt anyone. I swear on my life, and the lives of my crew. All we wanna do is relax until we have nothing left to drink. Then we’ll buy up all the booze your village has to sell, and be on our way. Plus food and whatnot, but–”

Your ragged breaths brought that spicy scent of him into your lungs, your forehead falling against his chest as you started to calm. A bit.

“Are you telling me,” you growled against his skin, “that you took me hostage while you all go on a three day bender?”

You felt his laugh as he held you to him, resting his cheek on your head for a moment before releasing you.

“We didn’t take you hostage. You paid for a ride.” He held up his hand as your mouth opened, itching to argue.

“Besides, fish girl,” he teased gently, “after hearing your story last light, it sounds like you could use a vacation too. When’s the last time you had any fun?”

“I have fun, asshole. Quit changing the subject.”

“Lying’s bad for the soul,” he hummed, touching the tip of your nose again.

The energy drained from your body, and you left him to climb off the rock, falling onto your back in the sand.

“So what do you do for fun?”

Shanks’ husky voice rolled over you. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know that he’d sat behind your head, leaning over your face as he spoke.

“I’ll have fun once I get off this shitty island.”

Finally, the pirate stayed quiet. Waiting. Until those rough fingers smoothed the hair from your face.

You didn’t stop him as he traced along your skin, letting relaxation wash over you. He moved from your temples, your cheeks, your jaw, behind your ears. Making sure to move his hand to both sides, evening out his slow caresses.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” you confessed, fighting the heat of tears rising in your throat. You rolled that little stone in your fingers, the motion soothing your nerves.

“Why’s that?”

“... Because I’m ‘Fish Girl.”

Shanks paused, and you wondered if he’d stifled a laugh.

“What do you mean,” he asked, voice like the gentle waves just a few paces away.

It all came spilling from your lips. He listened to everything, fingers still tracing your skin.

All the pain. Your mom leaving you with grandma, never coming back. You were so young, and it didn’t feel that bad at the time. You didn’t understand.

Grandma would tell you stories, you’d sit together on her boat for hours and hours. She taught you how to fish before you were strong enough to reel anything in.

“That sounds wonderful,” he said, his voice somehow telling you there was a smile on his face.

“It was. But kids are mean. I didn’t know we were poor until I went to school. I didn’t know I stank all the time until they called me ‘fish girl.”

His fingers tensed on your skin, a guilty pause before he kept up his soothing touch.

“I never relax. I’m always working because I want a better life. All those mean kids grew up with me in our shitty little village. A few have tried to connect now that we’re older, but I don’t feel like it. I’m still 'fish girl.”

Shanks started to speak, but you cut him off.

“I know they were just kids, but they were brutal. I was a kid too, and I could never imagine hurting anyone the way they hurt me. I don’t want to be friends with those people.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

A heavy sigh left your lips, then a small gasp as his hand moved to the side of your neck, the touch of those fingers more satisfying than anything you could remember.

“Fishing used to be something I loved. But since grandma’s been gone, I can only bring in half of what we used to. It’s not enough to save anything. I wanted to sell that stupid fish so bad,” you admitted with a laugh, a deep hum coming from the listening pirate.

“Where do you wanna go,” he asked, his fingers trailing into your hair.

“I want to go somewhere where I can love fishing again. I want to live stories like grandma did. I want to be a fisherwoman. I don’t want to be ‘fish girl’ anymore.”

The loss of his touch was heavier than you expected.

“Come on.”

You opened your eyes to meet his, shining at you over his outstretched hand.

Tucking the stone in your pocket, you let him help you up, surprising yourself with a laugh as he shook the sand from your hair.

“Well, I’d say you deserve a vacation. What do ya say?”

Laughing at his silly wiggling eyebrows, you nodded, giving a breathy “okay,” as he took your hand.

He leaned over you as you walked, sending shivers across your skin as his breath touched your ear.

“Fisherwoman is a mouthful, so I’m gonna keep calling you ‘damsel.”

“No, you won’t,” you commanded. You cursed at him as he giggled, dropping your hand to run toward the camp.

“You sound like you’re in distress, do you need help,” he yelled back.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

You chased his laughing form until he slowed, grinning at you as he started to walk backwards.

The look on his face when you launched yourself at him would be seared into your mind forever. You both grunted as he toppled onto his back, his arm hanging onto your waist as you fell together.

The look on his face with you straddling him in the sand was even better.

Your hands had planned to slap him, but those eyes, those lips, and that look of joyful surprise did you in.

That gentle hand fisted roughly into your hair as you crashed your lips onto his. A quiet, needy moan left your throat, and his answering growl made your eyes roll back.

Thunderous cheers erupted from the crew, and you almost looked up at the camp until his fingers gripped your hair tighter, making your thighs clench around his waist.

He pulled you away gently, his parted lips and near frantic eyes matching yours.

“You sure,” he checked in, voice barely audible over the singing and shouting pirates. “Let’s get away from the crowd.”

Shanks kept looking over at you, that crooked smile following you back to the ship. He kept asking what you’d like to do, where you’d like to go.

“These clothes are sandy,” you noted, your voice low. “We should go to your room to change.”

He came in for a kiss, his deep voice rolling over you.

“We’re sandy too. We should probably shower.”

“Okay,” you agreed, melting under his dark eyes.

He pushed your sandy hair aside when you reached the door to the bathing room, kissing and nibbling from the crook of your neck to your ear, holding your waist as your knees went weak.

“Should we take turns guarding the door,” he rasped while your hands smoothed over the muscles around his waist and lower back.

“No.”

Practically stumbling through the door as you tried to keep touching each other, you stood in the center of that tiled room, and tore the clothes off of each other's skin.

There were no worries in your mind right now, just the electric touch of his hand and lips over each part of your body as it was revealed.

You cried out as you felt the hard length of him through his pants before you'd freed him from the fabric.

“You want me that much already, sweetheart?”

The urge to bicker was overridden as you pulled his pants from his skin, his thick cock springing up toward his stomach.

The need to touch him overwhelmed you, and you wrapped your hands around him, loving the moan he let out at your touch.

“Let’s shower, damsel,” he choked out as he kissed your cheek. “I need to bring you to the bed, now.”

That delicious smelling soap coated your skin, giving you an excuse to explore as you washed each other’s bodies. With as much of the sand and soap gone as possible, Shanks pushed you against the wall, his fingers traveling up your thigh.

“I thought you said you’re bringing me to the bed?”

“Just a minute,” he pleaded, teasing fingers until you nodded.

“Still this wet after washing it all away?”

Those rough fingers rubbed along your clit, his name dropping from your lips in needy moans.

“Mm, keep saying my name like that, beautiful,” he rasped, plunging in one finger, then two as your back arched against the cool, tile wall.

“Shanks, please…”

“Please what? What does my damsel need?”

“Take me– fuck. Take me to bed.”

You gasped as his fingers left you, finding his mouth as he sucked the taste of you off of his skin.

He tossed you a towel, kicking the clothes into a corner.

“Come on.”

“Wait,” you called, rushing to that pile of sandy fabric.

His crooked grin made you blush as he watched you grab that silly little stone.

“Come on,” he whispered onto your lips after pulling you into a deep kiss.

A trail of water followed your path, practically running and gasping with laughter all the way to his quarters.

He didn’t get you lost this time.

Now he was the one calling for you to wait as your hand reached for the door.

“We don’t have to do anything, Y/N. We can still relax and have fun together. Please, tell me if you’re not comfor—“

“Take me to bed, Captain,” you demanded, walking through the door before him.

The only answer he gave was to slam it closed, then wrap himself around your back, kissing your neck until you moaned.

“Shanks…”

“Yes, sweetheart,” he said before licking and nibbling at your earlobe.

“I don’t know,” you laughed, arching against him. “I just wanted to say your name.

The deep rumble that came through his chest had that pressure building in your core. His hand grasped yours, until you opened to give him the stone.

You stood smiling with your eyes closed until he pressed himself against your back again.

He pulled at your damp towel, then trailed that perfect hand down the front of your body, feeling everywhere he’d touched under that warm water and delicious soap.

Those fingers found you again, slipping easily in the dripping mess he’d already made of you.

“Mm, so wet. So good for me, aren’t you, beautiful?”

All you could do was whimper as he circled your clit, until you cried out at the towel covered press of him along your ass.

“Please…”

“What darlin’? Tell me what I can do for my damsel?”

His raspy voice was too much, and you gasped as he palmed your needy pussy to hold you up as your knees went weak.

He chuckled in your ear as he kept grinding the meat of his palm against you.

“Please, Y/N, please tell me what you need. I’ve got you.”

His whisper brought desperate tears prickling in your eyes until you could finally speak.

“Fuck me now, Shanks. Fuck right fucking now, or I’ll never forgive you.”

He grabbed you, easily moving your weight with one hand until you fell back onto the edge of the bed.

He left you then, digging though his desk, tossing things out of drawers in a frantic search.

“I said right fucking now,” you demanded, still breathless.

“Yes, but—“

“I’m on birth control. Now hurry up before I find another pirate—“

Your sentence ended in a yelp as he pounced on you, his thick cock rubbing through your folds as he ate your moans.

“Don’t go saying shit like that again,” he rasped as his dark eyes bore down on yours.

“You’re the one who keeps calling me damsel. If you’re not going to help me—“

A filthy moan left your lips as he guided his tip to rub circles over your clit.

“Oh, I’ll be helping you plenty, don’t worry sweetheart,” he promised, this dark smile of his going in your list of favorites.

“What was that you said about ‘right fucking now,” he taunted, giving you no time to brace for the press of him.

He worked his way in slowly, putting your leg over his shoulder while he watched your face.

“How’s that sweetie,” he teased, his own voice breathy and desperate now as his hips finally met yours. “Is this what my girl needed?”

“Fuck, Shanks. Fuck me please.”

“You are a very demanding woman, you know that?”

Any retort you would have had died in your throat as you screamed, his deep thrusts making your toes curl.

“So fucking gorgeous. Gods, Y/N, you take my cock so well.”

Shanks gripped your thigh against his chest, pressing it to him until he locked you into place.

“Oh right there, sweetheart? I’ll help my pretty girl right there, just say my name again.”

He hit that sweet spot inside you over and over as if it belonged to him, claiming it, taking it back. Every word from his lips felt like vibrating pleasure down your skin, and in no time at all, you were screaming his name, arching your back against those red sheets as you fell apart.

He fucked you through your orgasm, sweet praise almost impossible to understand as your mind disappeared.

“You feel so good coming on my cock, you made such a beautiful mess. You're gonna go again for me now, okay?”

He chuckled at the pathetic whine from your lips, but never stopped his rhythm.

“Please, pretty damsel? I helped you out. Now let me watch those dainty fingers on your clit. Let me feel you milk my cock one more time before I fill you up.”

He moaned along with you as your body clenched around his.

You couldn’t argue with that heated smile. His hungry eyes watched your fingers slide over your clit, scraping his lip between his teeth as he tightened his arm around your thigh.

“Just like that. Let me see my girl come on my cock again. Fuck... You feel so good, so fucking good for me, baby.”

“Shanks, you feel… I’m close.”

“I know, sweetheart, can you feel me too? Come for me, I’m gonna— fuuckk…”

Shanks leaned over you, shoving himself as deep as he could go. Pleasure ripped through your body as you clawed at his back, more screams filling the air.

The sensation of both of you coming at once, your body milking his as he spilled ropes of heat inside you, had your mouth slack, body limp and useless as you twitched together.

Shanks leaned his forehead against yours, staying hilted within you as he caught his breath.

You gave him a droopy smile as he lifted his head, and he laughed before covering your face in kisses while you squirmed.

This made both your bodies twitch again, moaning as he pulled himself out of you.

He grabbed one of the damp towels as he knelt at the foot of the bed, kissing your thighs as he gently cleaned your sensitive skin.

“Stop,” you begged weakly as his soft touches across you body kept your aftershocks going.

The mattress shifted under his weight, bouncing you lightly until he pulled you up the bed onto his chest. His arm wrapped around you, still leaving lazy circles of touch across your back and hip.

“Now what,” you whispered, fighting to keep the real world from invading your brain.

“Anything my damsel wants,” he hummed, leaving a soft kiss against your still damp hair. “Your vacation’s only just started.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Hi, I have once again gone INSANE over another One Piece character. I need help. Someone please lock me away.

Part 3

221 notes · View notes

ay0nha · 6 months

Text

LIFE IS BUT A DREAM | SHANKS (OPLA)

SUMMARY: You had done unspeakable things, figuring it was an acceptable way to siphon your affection. You were young and blinded by false idolization. Shanks chose to see the best in you, even now, even after everything. He, too, was blinded by an image of you that hadn’t changed since you were young.

PAIRING: OPLA!Shanks x f!reader (Gold D. Roger's daughter)

WORDS COUNT: 3K~

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, enemies to lovers, jail, talk of death and things related, morally grey reader, ANGST, RUSHED ending, flowery language, injuries, blood, murder, random ocs (aka fictional villains inserts), idk really what the plot is besides just straight angst lol, etc.

A/N: I got a couple of Shanks requests, so I combined them all as they were very similar. Thank you SO much to @wood-white-writer for inspiring my reader and helping me along, and @togenabi for entertaining my rambling! I'm begging you to go check out their fics because they are *divine*. Enjoy.

The waves that thrust against the coast lulled you into a meditative state. It made the time pass with uncertainty. Even the briny smell of the warm breeze cradled you in a way that pulled the weight from your shoulders.

You never thought jail to be so idyllic.

It was tempting to postpone your escape for a bit longer; there were only so many opportunities to stretch your spine and rest. Yet, your left eye twitched, warning you your premonition was soon to be true.

It was on the simpler side, a vision of dark shadows intentionally elusive. The bars that separated you from the world were bent, promising damage from the strength that wasn’t your own. You knew he was coming. It was sooner than you thought, but you learned long ago that your foresight would never be reliable.

It favored him over you.

When you were younger, you thought you were crazy, seeing apparitions or former lives. However, as years passed, familiar faces began to fill your vision, showing truths you became excited to fulfill. But they became warped with opposing desires and reverberating fear wreathed with vindication.

It made things sour and sore. It allowed trouble to seek you out just to be ill-prepared for your counter. It wasn’t bravery that energized you, nor was it skill. Pure spite drove you to be the worst of all.

“On your feet.”

The serenity you had slipped through your fingers like warm sand. The guard repeated his command, using force to pull at the chains connecting your limbs. You couldn’t help but smile at what he thought was a punishment.

“Rumor has it, you’re hot shit.” The guard scoffed, voice echoing the dripping hallways. The way he trailed your body exposed his lust. “They’re not wrong by the looks of it…”

The guard’s weak come-ons warbled in your ears like a white noise. You used the moment to fulfill a repeated daydream. That liminal space presented your strength as you pulled your chains around the guard’s neck until there was no longer resistance.

The conversations were typically cyclical, feigned disinterest to disguise the anxiety your proximity created or those whose egos convinced they could charm you. You stopped paying attention to the rumors the more embellished they became. To some, you were a mercenary; to others, a frenzied psychopath.

The only truth they held was how deliberately unrestrained you were willing to be. There was no rhyme or reason behind it; at least you were close to convincing yourself of that. Regardless, it had gotten you far, the only thing you’d even consider reliable.

“You hear something?” The guard perked, pulling you harshly toward him. How brave of him to use me as a shield, you thought. Your attention returned when it sounded again, “Shit!—

The bang was loud—time had bested you.

You were lucky to recognize the canon’s whistle and use the commotion to regain an advantage. The current reality had yet to become your destiny. If you moved quickly enough, you wouldn’t have to catch your death in such a dilapidated place.

Maneuvering your body unnaturally, you felt for the knife hidden on your thigh. The guard was panicking despite training not to split on whether to keep his eyes on you or the trouble you unknowingly caused.

Using his momentary stupor, your chains wrapped tightly around his throat. It was better than any dream to feel the way the air caught in his body, never to be released. Any lingering struggle stopped when your knife found an artery.

The blood sputtered, feeling warm against your hands. It was messy, but its carnality evoked an almost erotic sensation that was inimitable. Plenty felt power connected to the strength it took to take away something vital. It corrupted them and blinded them from the true potentiality of the action.

It made life seem like nothing more than overflowing fragility. It was well-known time with the world and sea was limited, and eventually, everyone would end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. There was a purposeful lack of originality there solely due to fear of change.

Yet, when one danced with death, you became the music.

You wiped your fingers across your neck, rubbing the tight knots that met at your shoulders. The fresh blood would stain your skin, but you craved a performance. You readied yourself for the approaching marine boots. The staging was almost too believable, but every second was convincing.

“Fuck. Fuck—” The words tumbled from your quivering lip. You couldn’t think of anything else, repeating the curse. You smeared the blood on your shirt, a mindless move to rid yourself of taking someone’s life. “Help me, please. This man—I don’t—he came after me—the others are still back there, they’ll be here any moment—I didn’t know what to do—

“Still with the theatrics, eh?”

Your crocodile tears ceased to stream down your cheeks. The feigned, horrified expression turned into an unearthed fury. Shame on you for missing the stray red hairs at the nape of the guard’s neck.

“Shanks.” You greeted dryly. “You’re early.”

It was hard for Shanks to meet your eye. He was far from intimidated, but the wild look in your eyes made him hesitate. The years had been kind to you as if you traded your soul for youth. But it was a foolish thought that the devil would be so naive to make a deal with you.

“Was that necessary?” Shanks nodded to the man behind you.

“And I thought the canons were a bit excessive.” You tutted as if your opposing opinions were trivial. “And yet here we are…”

“Love—

You hadn’t believed in love, and you were ready to carry that grudge—until him. It wasn’t proper love, proving your skepticism in the emotion correctly. But it was the closest you’ve ever been, could ever be.

You had done unspeakable things, figuring it was an acceptable way to siphon your affection. You were young and blinded by false idolization. Shanks chose to see the best in you, even now, even after everything. He, too, was blinded by an image of you that hadn’t changed since you were young.

“Let’s get this on with,” You stopped him, moving swiftly to feel the body below you for anything valuable. “Tumole gave me up, then? That’s how you found me? Bastard.”

You smiled at the image: Shanks holding the poor man upside down, kindness still in his threats to find you. Violence was never necessary with Tumole, always one to ramble away anyone’s secret for safety. However, it was as though you subconsciously left a clue, but you knew the crumbs Shanks found weren’t worth it.

“You really wasted your crew’s time on me...” You stood, pulling your neck until it popped. It had been a while since you had a one-on-one with Shanks, but you knew he’d always pull his punches. “Must really be desperate—

“I won’t fight you.” He tracked your posture. Your exterior was calm, but with every twitch calculated, you were nearing rabid. “It’s not worth it.”

“Tell me, then, what I’m worth to you, Shanks?” You taunted. It was obvious what he wanted to say: saving. His emotion was always his weakness.

His pause was intentional, stalling of sorts to let the exchange sink in. Standing under Shanks ' gaze, your body had a new form of reprieve. A facade wasn’t necessary, but you weren’t willing to lose more of yourself to another.

Your anger dissipated into a haze. It pulled a frown from Shanks as your breathing steadied only to slow. The harder you blinked, the more you forgot your argument. Even if you had held onto it, the lump in your throat wouldn’t allow it to exist.

Shanks’ lips shaped your name, but all you could hear was a mild ringing, a buzz. His step forward elicited an instinct to step back.

“Don’t—” You spat. Your left arm was like static, numb from the shoulder down, an ironic consequence of dismissing your opposite. “—fucking touch me.”

Your vision was the last to go, allowing you to watch yourself crumble; your knees locked, and the palm of your hands broke your fall, exposing how blood pooled from your arm. When did that happen? It had nothing to do with pain tolerance or adrenaline; you were distracted by your vision, doing what you could to change its form.

However, your effort was useless to make sense of it. You read it wrong; forgetting things such as foresight was rarely linear. As the world around you closed in, clouding your vision, you realized the open bars weren’t an entrance to your cell. Rather, it was the exit Shanks carried you through with success.

You were never destined to win.

—

The dream always teased you with muddled memories.

They always started the same, a mirrored image of the room you grew up in. Only a few feet separated the sacks the headmistress would call your beds. Your fingertips felt the scratchy fabric of the cheap blankets.

When the dreams first began, you believed they were real, that you’d never left the dormitory of the dingy children’s home. But the feeling of the monochrome bedding was always wrong, your dream never quite getting the textures correct. So, there was no room for nostalgia.

It was as if you were stuck in a loop, hand rhythmically gliding across the bedding in hopes of softening it. It was neither tranquil nor eerie. Its structure was that of a fever dream, its kaleidoscope quality provoking you to interpret it.

Its symbolization didn’t go past you, but it always felt uninvolved—superficial even. At the time, your child wonderment knew no difference between the life you had and the life you were meant to exist in.

As any child did, you dreamed of silks and decadent food. Candies and luxuries. You dreamed of family and warmth. Hope drove those fantasies, but there was no point in clinging to hope when you found out you weren’t wanted.

Gol D. Roger. Pirate King. The name circled every coastal town and seeped into every deep forest. His mirth was enviable, and his skill indomitable. You wanted to hold indifference toward him, but every bounty you saw enamored you. He made hope seem regainable.

You looked down at your hand, seeing your hand change shape with each slow swipe across the bed. Your slender fingers became older, calloused. Experienced. Moving to see the palm, you saw the lifeline had ended and an elaborate red sleeve scratched at your—Gol D. Roger’s—wrist.

You flinched as if you were burnt. You wanted to rid yourself of the attachment by any means. But it didn’t matter when your blood was intertwined. There was no escaping your lineage, your father.

The longer you lingered with the feeling, your surroundings slowly morphed. A wind picked up but hadn’t raised chills across your arms—not yet. You wanted to stretch now that your hand became your own again.

However, a sway lulled you into your environment. The ships were always different, never ones you recognized. You’d like to praise your brain’s creativity, but you knew you’d step foot on every deck at some point in life. If you were smart, you would have noted each and every one. It was hard to when the horizon seemed so…

“The tide is strange…” You hummed. Although your voice vibrated in your chest, it felt delayed, like an echo of someone else.

A hand trailed your spine with warmth. Goosebumps littered your body. You hadn’t thought to fight them, knowing the touch belonged to someone who put far too much faith in you.

“Am I finally rubbing off on you?” Shanks matched your hum, creating more serenity than you could handle. It was purposeful to calm you and invite you in.

“No, no…” You echoed again, shaking your head. Shanks continued with his charm, making promises that the sea and he could fulfill. However, your eyes didn’t leave the shore, the tide much more vast than you’ve ever seen. “...no, there’s—There’s something changing it.” You paused, nausea hitting you boldly. “...someone…maybe? Don’t you feel that?”

Another laugh, more hollow than the last. You had yet to face Shanks, only trusting his touch. It started to burn when you finally turned to him. He was physically present, but his eyes were vacant as if a copy of himself.

“Love, just try and relax.” His smile was plastered, almost painfully. “Nothing's wrong anymore. Nothing will change—

You frowned. “Shanks—

“She won’t hurt us.” Shanks caught you in his hold. You finally understood the deception and recognized the wolf in sheep’s clothing. “She gave me her word.”

—

You jolted awake.

The image wasn’t explicit, but it made you squirm; your back arched against the deck’s railing until your fingertips touched the waves below. You never sunk or floated, but you breathed in the water and felt it swallow you whole with a salty taste.

Your chest was tight, careful not to suck in your breath too quickly. Despite still being bleary-eyed, you knew you weren’t alone. You knotted your fingers in the bed’s fabric to ground you. The room's scent reminded you to breathe before succumbing to your subconscious torture again.

“You alright?” Shanks called from the deepest corner of the room. He was swift to strike a match to see your condition for himself.

The candlelight illuminated the gauze that nurtured your stiff arm. Shanks reprimanded you slightly as you pushed yourself up. Shanks knew you well, understanding that you were already seeking an escape from whatever plagued you. The look in your eye told him you would run regardless of a purpose.

“What did you see?” His voice remained calm, tone unwavering with vigilance.

“I didn’t.” Your defiance was your only form of defense on his ship.

Slight relief came from how Shank’s eyebrow dared to twitch with frustration. It meant he was real. Your blood pumped slower at the unorthodox respite. You continued to move, to stand despite your sore body. Shanks was still blocking your way to the door, but you paced lightly to rid yourself of the jitters.

“You can talk to me.” Shanks knew you were frazzled, and he was determined to coax the cause out of you. “I understand why you’re—

“Daddy dearest has nothing to do with this.” You hissed, hating the assumption. “Don’t you understand there was a reason your beloved captain left me to rot all those years ago? When will you learn to do the same?”

Shanks didn’t lack sympathy for you, but he understood why your father chose to keep you away from the life that proved only to hurt you. Shanks intended to keep the promise he made to you before you learned it was by the instruction of your father.

“I gave my word.” Shanks countered. His word choice made you flinch, your dream still fresh. He softened to repeat himself. “I gave my word to keep you safe. This has nothing to do with —

“Safe with a pirate, eh?” You scoffed, picking up what was most likely a stolen treasure. You held no qualms with his lifestyle, but you refused the overlap Shanks wanted to share. “That’ll be the fucking day.”

You felt a needle of pain in your nose like you were near tears, the guilt settling the bile in your throat. The game of cat and mouse was getting old. It was a facetious argument you used for distraction. The bravado you held was angry and vengeful.

“I know you’ve heard the rumors…” Shanks sighed as if his strategy to coax a conversation out of you backfired. “Cain is spreading out, searching for you. She won’t stop this time.”

You dropped the small object of treasure back into its place. Any emotion was swallowed and digested. There was little energy left to pretend to argue. You needed to leave the room before you suffocated. Shanks wouldn’t block if you tried.

You lingered, waiting for him to spit out the obvious. “Look, I know you saw her—

“I felt her.” Your expression, even mixed with vulnerability, was composed with passivity. Your composure could fool most, but to a trained eye, your discomfort was obvious.

Your admission was desperate, breaking a tension that had filled the air. You wouldn’t crumble. You tried to hold it in, breathing evenly to suppress any sobbing urge. It was neither the time nor the place for added emotion.

“I need to know the full story.” He replied thoughtfully.

He mistook his demeanor for bravery, but his true bravery formed by being across from you. The only barrier seemed to be Shanks’ incorruptible moral code, a space where you couldn’t quite freely exist.

You wanted so badly to trust him. You sought his comfort. The feeling felt foreign, so you prickled.

“You already know how it ends. What does the rest matter?” You always leaned on pessimism. “I want nothing to do with this. With her.”

“I’ll be beside you the entire time,” Shanks promised, voice low and steady, reflecting his sincerity. You could make out the warmth he was willing to share, but you couldn’t accept it wholly.

“And my interests?”

Shanks’ expression fell slightly at your evasive rejection. “It depends on where they lie.”

In an ideal world, you’d like to think you and Shanks could be friends. Frankly, though, his compassion made you nauseous. Or maybe it was nerves. The feeling was always hard for you to distinguish. You wished the way he looked at you would warm your chest, but it only reminded you of how that was another impossibility.

Although you were still present, Shanks watched you flee. Your guard returned stronger, but he didn’t regret his words. Shanks’ eyes were pleading, and you went to chastise him, but you found something distinct there.

You didn’t know what to do with it, but to muse a buried thought. "...Empathy will get you killed, Shanks.”

“Then, I am a dead man walking.”

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soulofapatrick · 5 months

Text

Scarlet Temptations - Shanks x Reader

Summary: You find your way onto the Red Force to find Shanks' crew mid party which leads to some confessions from Shanks

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: None

Y/N’s POV

As I set foot on the deck of the legendary Red Force, the scene unfolds before me like a vivid painting brought to life. The air thrums with the harmonious medley of lively music and carefree laughter. Lanterns, adorned with intricate patterns, sway gently in the breeze, casting a warm, ethereal glow that dances across the deck. The vibrant attire of the pirates is a sight to behold—each outfit a kaleidoscope of colours that whirl and twirl with every movement. They move with a contagious energy, embracing the night with a fervour that seems to defy the boundaries of the open sea.

And there he is, amidst the jubilant chaos, Shanks stands tall and commanding, yet there’s a different air about him tonight. His usually serious countenance is softened by a smile, his laughter blending seamlessly with he joyful tunes echoing through the air. As I stand there, enraptured by the spectacle of Shanks and his crew revealing in the festivities, I can’t help but admire the way he seamlessly merges with the joyous atmosphere. He moves with a grace that belies his stature, effortlessly engaging in the lively dance that envelops the deck.

His laughter, infectious and genuine, resonates across the ship, drawing others into the whirl of merriment. I watch as he twirls a crewmate around, sharing a joke that elicits hearty laughs from those around them. There’s an undeniable warmth in the way he interacts with everyone, a genuine camaraderie that speaks volumes about the respect he commands.

Caught in the rhythm of movement, shanks suddenly stumbles mid-step, his gaze shifting through the crowd until his eyes lock onto mine. A glint of recognition sparks within those deep, espresso eyes, and without hesitation, he gracefully navigates his way through the dances until he stands before me.

“Ah, there you are!” His voice, carrying a blend of amusement and genuine delights, cuts through the music. With a playful grin, he extends a hand, inviting me to join in the dance, “Care to join me for a dance?”

Caught off guard by Shanks’ unexpected invitation, I feel a surge of both excitement and hesitation. His hand extended, the music pulsating around us, I can’t help but hesitate, a shy smile tugging at my lips.

“Ahh, I don’t know Shanks,” I stammer, glancing around at the lively dancers, feeling a mixture of nerves and exhilaration

But Shanks, ever persistent and full of infectious enthusiasm, doesn’t take no for an answer. With a gentle yet firm tug, he insists, “Come onnn, it’s all in good fun! Trust me, you’ll enjoy it!”

Before I can protest further, he pulls me gently but decisively into the heart of the dance floor, his infectious laughter mingling with the music. At first, I feel self-conscious, my movements hesitant and unsure amidst the whirl of experienced dancers. Yet, Shanks’ encouraging grin and the vibrant atmosphere begin to work their magic. His easy confidence is contagious, and soon, I find myself swaying to the rhythm, the initial hesitation giving way to a growing sense of enjoyment.

As we move, Shanks’ guiding hand offers reassurance, guiding me through the steps with a patience that surprises me. His presence is both reassuring and exhilarating, a mix of warmth and strength that envelopes me in a cocoon of comfort. With every twist and step, the music seems to weave a connection between us, breaking down barriers in its infectious melody. And as the dance reaches its peak, any lingering reservations melt away, replaced by a sense of pure exhilaration and joy.

The dance crescendos and the music wraps around us like a vibrant embrace. Shanks’ movements become fluid, guiding me effortlessly through the steps as if we’re engaged in an intricate duet. His touch, gentle yet firm, sends a shiver down my spine, awakening a sensation I hadn’t expected.

In a graceful swirl, he draws me closer, our bodies aligning in perfect rhythm. His chest presses against mine, his warmth seeping through the thin barrier of our clothes. The closeness makes my heart quicken, a nervous fluter rising within me.

Shanks, ever the playful charmer, leans in, his breath teasingly close to my ear, “You’re a natural on the dance floor,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that sends a jolt of heat through me. His lips graze against the shell of my ear, sending a thrill down my spine, “Or maybe it’s just the company.”

A blush blooms across my cheeks as his playful flirtation catches me off guard. His proximity is electrifying, and I find myself pressing my hands flat against his firm chest, a futile attempt to steady myself amidst the whirlwind of sensations. His laughter rumbles against me, the sound infectious and carefree, “You’re blushing.” He observes with a hint of amusement, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leans back slightly, his gaze locking with mine.

Caught in his gaze, I can’t help but feel both flustered and captivated. There’s a magnetic pull in the air, a tension that crackles between us, undeniable and exhilarating. The lively music fading into a softer melody, Shanks drawing me closer again, a playful glint in his eyes, “Another dance, perhaps?”

Unable to resist the pull of his charisma, I nod in agreement, allowing him to draw me into the gentle sway of the slower rhythm,. The atmosphere changes, the energy now replaced with a more intimate ambiance that envelops us like a warm embrace. Our movements synchronise effortlessly, a silent understanding guiding us through the graceful steps. As the dance progresses, a newfound ease settles between us, the tension from earlier transforming into a subtle connection that seems to deepen with every passing moment.

Caught in the intimacy of the dance, I find myself drawn to the enigmatic scars that adorn Shanks' left eye. With a hesitant yet curious touch, my fingers trace the three distinct marks, the texture rough against my fingertips. It's a silent acknowledgment of the battles fought and the stories untold, a gesture of both reverence and curiosity. Shanks' gaze lingers on me, a mixture of surprise and a subtle vulnerability flickering in his eyes at the unexpected touch. Yet, he doesn't pull away, allowing the moment to unfold between us.

In that tender exchange, our closeness feels like a delicate dance of understanding and unspoken words. His surprise at my touch gives way to a soft vulnerability, a fleeting glimpse behind the veil of the enigmatic pirate captain. As my fingertips trace the rugged path of his scars, the world around us seems to fade into a hushed sanctuary, leaving just the quiet rhythm of our breathing. Shanks' gaze, intense and searching, holds mine captive, as if inviting me to explore the depths of his untold tales.

Unexpectedly, Shanks leans in closer, our noses brushing lightly, causing a rush of laughter to escape both us the shared moment washing away any hint of unease. It’s a lighthearted exchange, a dance of proximity that sparks a carefree joy between us.

Amidst the laughter, Shanks’ voice, a gentle murmur, breaks the fleeting silence, “You’re… you’re ethereal,” he breathes out, the sincerity in his tone wrapping around us like a gentle breeze. His words carry a weight of admiration, tinged with a hint of wonder, leaving me speechless.

Before I can even gather my thoughts, Shanks closes the remaining distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a tender and fleeting kiss. It’s a moment suspended in time, the touch of is lips against mine, a blend of warmth and promise. There’s a raw authenticity to the connection, an unspoken understanding that transcends words, leaving only the soft brush of our lips and the shared heartbeat between us. It's a brief yet poignant exchange, carrying with it the unspoken promise of a story yet to unfold.

In that suspended moment, the air crackles with an electric charge, and as our lips part, a gentle smile plays on Shanks' features, his eyes reflecting a myriad of unspoken emotions. His vulnerability echoes through the faintest quiver of his lips, resonating with an unspoken invitation. Drawn inexplicably closer, my fingers instinctively thread through the soft strands of his crimson hair. With a gentle yet firm tug, I guide Shanks' face back towards mine, the unexpected pull drawing a deep, guttural sound from him—a mixture of surprise and a raw, primal response to the sensation of his hair being tugged.

The kiss that follows is fervent and impassioned, a collision of longing and restraint that sets my heart ablaze. His lips are soft yet possess an underlying intensity that ignites a fire within me. There's a dance of fervour and tenderness in the way his lips mold against mine, each kiss a whispered promise of uncharted territories.

As our embrace deepens, I feel the gentle touch of his hand on the small of my back, his touch warm and reassuring. His right hand, the only one he has, finds a natural resting place, cradling the curve of my waist with a tender yet possessive hold. The sensation of his kisses is an intoxicating blend—a symphony of desire and reverence. Each touch of his lips against mine sends a cascade of sensations through me, evoking a sense of longing and connection that feels both exhilarating and comforting.

Amidst the fervent exchange, a wave of emotions surges through me, a whirlwind of desire and an unspoken understanding. Shanks' kisses feel like an exploration of uncharted territory, each touch leaving an indelible mark on my soul, a testament to the depth of our connection.

In that stolen moment, with the world fading away and the only reality being the touch of our lips and the intertwining of our souls, I find myself lost in the enchanting dance of passion and intimacy, completely ensnared by the enigmatic allure of the man known as Shanks.

“Come on,” His voice is husky as he parts enough to whisper, “I want you in my cabin now.”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

One Piece Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

#shanks #shanks x you #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #red hair shanks #shanks smut #shanks fluff #shanks x y/n #shanks angst #shanks one piece #one piece fluff #one piece smut #one piece #one piece shanks #one piece x reader #peter gadiot #opla!shanks x reader #opla!shanks

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