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buckyownsmylife · 13 hours

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❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐒𝐌. ❞

pairings : luffy, marco, sanji, robin, zoro x f!reader

info : smut. 3,800 word count. minors and ageless blogs do not interact. reblogs appreciated! tell me ur favorite so that i can include them in future works . .

content : heavy overstimulation & dumbification, cunninglingus, exhibitionism, teasing, mating press, squirting, creampie, fingering, check individual tags!

filled requests : one // two // three

𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 — mating press, creampie, fingering

zoro’s thighs push down against yours, forcing you into a mating press as he watches his cock move in and out of your hole— dragging against your walls with each movement of his hips.

he’s always liked pushing you to your limit, watching your faces and taking you like this, fucking you until you’ve lost your coherency and let him have his way with you.

but today, he’s mad. you can tell. each thrust is harder than usual, your body rocking back and forth from the intensity of each thrust, balls slapping against you when he bottoms out.

he’s grunting loudly above you, jaw clenching every time your walls spasm against him. he’s close to cumming, thrusts becoming messy as he tries his best to resist it— but it’s too much. he wants to make you cum, to see you gush all around his cock again, and he definitely doesn’t want to cum first.

your eyes are fixated on the sight of his fat cock pummeling your spot with pure strength, walls stretching to accommodate his size. he feels so good today, the roughness only pushing you closer to the edge as desperate moans slip from your mouth.

you squeal at a particularly rough thrust, arms wrapping around him to tug him closer to you, legs wrapping around his to keep him close to you. your eyes are slammed shut, completely oblivious to the way you’ve pushed him even deeper inside of you.

zoro’s eyes suddenly widen at the tightness, hands slamming down beside you to catch himself from falling on your chest. “w-wait, stop— don’t do that!”

but it’s too much for him. he was trying his best to hold back earlier— but he can’t with you clinging onto him for dear life, your tight hole greedily keeping his cock buried inside of you.

“shit, shit, stop— you,” he growls, hips stuttering into yours as he gasps loudly— trying to pull back, but you won’t let him, clinging onto him tightly as you moan his name over and over. his cock is desperate to cum inside of you despite his best attempts at resisting it, and he gives you one last thrust before his throbbing cock stills inside you, spitting ropes of cum against your cervix as you tighten your embrace around him.

he lets out a shaky breath— one he didn’t even know he was holding— and digs his fingers deeper into your thighs, watching the way your juices and his cum seep out of your cunt and down his cock. his head dips down, panting beside you as he comes down from his high, cock still throbbing against your walls from the intensity.

“you little fucking minx,” he growls between breaths, hand coming to squeeze your cheeks together and tilt your head up. you look so irresistible to him, innocent eyes staring up into his as you tilt your head in confusion, watching the way he glares down at you with clenched teeth, sharply inhaling through his nose.

“first,” he starts slowly, “you fake it. and then now…. you pull another stunt.” his scowl deepens when he sees your lips turn down into a cute pout, prompting him to grab your ankle and pull you closer. “you know what— c’mere.”

his arm easily holds both of your thighs up against your chest, leaving you wide open for him to stuff three thick fingers into your cunt, fucking his cum deeper into you. “gonna ruin this cunt,” he grunts, loving the way your body is so reactive for him no matter what he gives you.

“z-zoro!” you cry out, reaching down to grasp at his forearms, but he doesn’t stop his movements, roughly fucking you with his fingers as he narrows his eyes. “move your fucking hand.”

his voice is low and stern, arms not budging an inch even when you have two hands wrapped around his wrist. part of you wants to see more of this zoro— the one fully in control of your body and your reactions, so you listen, shyly gripping onto your own thighs to hold yourself open for him.

his fingers are thick, curling against the spot that has you gasping, mouth parting open from the heavy stimulation. he perks up at your reaction, lips tugging into a grin.

“yeah? you like that?”

you nod quickly, eyes slamming shut when he uses his other hand to rub at your clit, drawing rough circles into it as you clench harder around his fingers. “‘m gonna cum, z-zoro!”

his grin widens, eyes fixated on the way your hole greedily eats up whatever he gives it, squeezing around his fingers to keep them inside of you. “then cum,” he grunts, rubbing harder at your poor nub. his cum is seeping out of your hole, mixed with your own slick and squelching loudly around his fingers with each movement.

his fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, and you choke out a sob. “w-wait, that’s—“ you blurt out, eyes widening at the foreign feeling building up. “finally,” he grins.

“that your spot?”

you nod again, jaw dropping from the stimulation, and you dig your fingers into your thighs, trying your best to keep them open despite their best efforts to slam shut around his arms.

he hums in response. “i’ll fuck you till you can’t walk if you’re lying.”

the threat does nothing but fluster you further, thighs shaking from the stimulation. you’re so close, so close to cumming—

“you tightened when i said that. that what you want anyways?”

you whisper out a please for him, a cute plea to let you cum before he rubs your clit just right, grin widening into a toothy smile when you gush all over his fingers, body trembling in his hold as your head falls back.

“so that one was real,” he admits to himself. he slides his fingers out of your cunt, bringing them to your mouth to show you the way his cum drips from his fingertips. “open,” he commands, delighting in the way you loll your tongue out for him so obediently. his fingers move around in your mouth, letting you suck every bit of his cum.

zoro takes his fingers out, pulling you up into his lap. “there’s more things i wanna try,” he rasps, voice deep and low. “you can handle it, can’t you?”

“i think— i can try,” you mumble, crawling off his lap. you’re not even off his thigh before he’s roughly yanking you back into him, hardened cock already prodding at your hole. “hey, where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“think i’ll let you off easy after the shit you pulled? sit still, i’m taking you like this next.”

𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘 — overstimulation, dumbification, creampie

luffy’s hands slam down beside your shoulders, hissing at how good your cunt feels around his cock, so tight and wet, walls wrapping perfectly around his length as he snaps his hips against you.

“more,” he growls, words coming out unsteady from the way he’s slamming his cock into you. “more, more.”

he hits a sensitive spot in your cunt, groaning loudly when your walls clench around him in response, dropping down to hold himself up with his elbows. he moans your name into your neck, messily kissing and nipping at the skin. “i knew it,” he pants, “this isn’t good.”

“h-huh?“ you choke out, too dumb to even comprehend what he’s saying, half lidded eyes still focused on the strong arms beside your head and the way his muscles are gently flexing and tensing.

“not good,” he starts, voice heavy and slurred. “i- i can’t stop myself—feels so good. i can’t….need more.” he exhales shakily before sucking at your neck again, inhaling sharply through his nose as he slams his cock into you. “that okay? it’s okay right?”

his voice is urgent, almost begging you to let him frantically bury his cock into you. he’s so desperate to hold you down, stuff his dick into you until he’s satisfied, but he wants to make sure you’re okay with it, distracting his desire by planting sloppy kisses down your neck.

he’s so rough that you can occasionally feel his teeth nudge against the skin, only to be replaced by his tongue sliding across your neck moments later. he’s so hungry for you, so desperate to be closer and deeper inside of you.

as soon as you nod, murmuring a “please,” his pace quickens to one more frenzied, using his strength to fuck you even harder, make you feel good too. he’s drunk on the feeling you give him, and he wishes he could stay inside you like this forever.

luffy growls loudly into your neck, gasping every time your cunt flutters against his cock, slick even squelching around him with the roughness he’s giving you.

you can barely even catch your breath, his full weight on top of yours as he moves relentlessly. you can’t help but choke out a moan at the way each drag of his cock stretches your walls out so perfectly, his desperation alone enough to bring you close to the edge.

“you always feel so good,” he groans into your neck, “so wet, and so h-hot. fuck—”

he buries his face deeper into your neck, arms wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him. “it’s tight, squeezing me! ahh…i can’t—” he groans, eyes shut tight to focus on making you cum.

he still wants you to cum first, gush around his cock before he empties his load into you. his dick is so heavy, painfully hard and on the edge of finishing— but he fights it.

“luffy, ‘m gonna cum!” you cry, returning his embrace to keep you grounded from the bruising pace he set against you. “please,” he groans, voice muffled as he sucks at your neck. there’s an air of desperation in his voice, thrusts growing sloppier as he tries not to finish before you.

and you do exactly as he wishes, eyes fluttering shut as the knot in your stomach snaps, cunt squeezing hard around his dick as you gush around his cock. he groans loudly against your ear, not slowing down for a second. “i knew it,” he mumbles, “the last one was fake, wasn’t it?”

luffy’s hips snap against yours a couple more times before he moans loudly, cock stilling inside you as it spits ropes of cum against your cervix. he’s panting above you, body slick with sweat as he catches his breath. “again,” he mumbles, voice desperate. “this isn’t enough, i need it again.”

he places a kiss on the fresh hickies bruising on your neck. “i can give you a lot more, so don’t fake it anymore.”

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈 — cunninglingus, overstimulation, squirting

sanji’s face is buried in your cunt, fingers curling deep inside you as his tongue flicks against your clit. he’s getting off to you feeling good from his mouth alone, dick throbbing even harder with each moan that slips out of your mouth.

but it’s different. your last orgasm was different, and he knows.

“you’re usually….much louder,” he groans into your cunt, not missing the way the vibrations from his voice make your thighs squeeze around his head. sanji always prides himself in how well he knows your body, from knowing what face you’ll make with each touch, to where you feel best…..which is why he has to make sure you haven’t been faking it this whole time.

to give you orgasm after orgasm until he’s sure he knows how to make you forget everything but the knot snapping in your core. his tongue laps harder at your clit, fingers curling perfectly against your spot as you tighten your embrace around the pillow, moaning loudly into it. “sanji….t-too much…!”

he can feel his dick twitch at your voice, feeling hard and heavy— leaking with precum. he wants to shove his dick into you so fucking bad, have you against the wall so you can moan his name directly into his ear— but not yet. instead, he grinds himself down into the mattress, cock rubbing desperately against the covers to relieve the burning ache he has. he’s groaning directly into your cunt now, eating you out with fervor as your eyes roll back, moans muffled by the pillow you’re clutching onto for dear life.

he sneaks a glance at you, his own cheeks heating up at the sight of your face, cute noises escaping your mouth as your nails dig into the pillow. his patience is running thin, wishing that he was that pillow instead, thinking about how your nails could scratch into his back like that, but not yet.

“when i touch you here,” he grunts, thick fingers reaching deeper into your cunt to focus on the spot that has you gasping— “you’ll make the prettiest noises for me. won’t you, pretty girl?”

and you do, crying out his name as your thighs squeeze hard and tremble against his head, walls fluttering so cutely around his fingers. your eyes widen when you realize this feels differently than usual, orgasm not settling down in the slightest.

sanji picks up on your response, not stopping the fingers on your cunt until your second orgasm is ripped from you in an instant, squealing into the pillow and squirting around his fingers as he laps hungrily at your clit. he places a hand on your stomach, keeping you down so that you don’t ruin your own orgasm, fingers still rubbing at your spot until you’ve stilled, body shaking weakly from the intensity.

you’re too tired to notice the way his eyes darken at the sight of you trembling and panting, now hovering over you with a hunger he can’t quite satiate no matter how long he spends between your legs.

“h-how did you..!”

your voice is so cute to him, and he leans down, pressing gentle kisses along the side of your neck with a proud grin. “i know your body like the back of my hand, angel.”

it does nothing but bring heat to your cheeks, walls clenching around nothing as you finally seem to notice it. his dick is hard, tip flushed pink with desire, and it’s leaking with precum as he slowly rubs it up and down your folds.

you realize that he’s still trying to hold back, still prioritizing how to make you feel good instead of himself, and you want to push him. just a little bit.

you innocently peer up at him through your lashes, wrapping your arms around him to pull his face closer to yours. “sanji,” you coo, “you don’t need to hold back.”

the way his jaw clenches doesn’t go unnoticed to you, his breaths coming out short as his hand gently wraps around your wrists, pinning them above your head. his eyes are darkened with lust, so desperate to bring you to your limit, make you cum over and over until you can’t feel your orgasms anymore..

“you’re sure?”

his voice is just above a growl, tip of his cock already sheathed inside your cunt as you nod, cutely smiling at him. “i can take it, give me all of it.”

his breath hitches in his throat at the offer. “say blue to stop me,” he says in a low whisper, stuffing your cunt in one swift movement. “otherwise,” he mumbles against your lips, “i’m gonna show you heaven, angel.”

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎 — exhibitionism, his wings don’t hurt you, squirting, riding him

if anyone were to walk by the two of you, it would be nothing out of the ordinary. you cuddling with marco as usual, his large wings wrapped around your frame to keep you warm— at least, that’s what it looks like.

marco’s hands are cupping your ass, bouncing you up and down his cock, slowly and intentionally, thrusts that bump your cervix each time your ass smacks against his thighs. the pace is so slow, but it’s got you worked up more than usual, and you can feel everything so vividly, down to the prominent vein on the underside of his cock dragging along your walls.

your head is buried in his chest, your weak attempt to hide your teary eyes and pants as he grips the globes of your ass harder. it feels so good, little moans occasionally slipping from your mouth— causing you to worriedly look to the side. you think someone might be watching, but you don’t get to check, marco hooking a finger under your chin to redirect your focus to him in an instant.

“hey, eyes on me,” he coos in your ear. “don’t pay attention to them. only me.”

you really should have known marco would do something like this, take you in front of the others to ensure all your reactions are real this time.

you squeal when he slams you down harder, a subtle warning to keep your focus on him only.“but, w-what if they see?” you ask, your hands come to wrap around his middle, looking up at him with a pout.

“doesn’t matter if they see. you’re mine anyways, we can put on a show for them,” he smiles, “can’t we?”

he chuckles when you hide your face in his chest again, face filling with heat at the thought of someone catching you with your commander’s cock buried deep inside your cunt. the thought alone has you spasming around his cock, growing wetter at the idea.

“m-marco…i’m gonna cum,” you whisper, eyes fluttering close as you bite your lips. “that right?” he coos, almost disinterested. “mm—i can’t hold it in— marco!” you plead, and he hums, prodding at your lips with his thumb.

you part your mouth obediently, letting him stick three of his fingers into it as you suck on them dutifully. “you know,” he starts. “you’re cute when you’re tryna run away from it,” he whispers into your ear, “but i won’t let you.” “cum on my dick and do it now, before someone comes.”

his other hand grabs a fistful of your ass, bouncing you up and down on his cock at the angle that has his tip pounding at the right spot, your cunt already starting to flutter around him before a loud stomp grabs your attention.

marco pushes you down in one swift movement, full length stuffed inside you as you’re forced to sit still, thighs trembling hard as the fullness.

“ah— ace, you need something?”

his voice is casual, so casual that it almost sounds like he just woke up from a nap. you’re frozen in place, cunt pathetically dripping down his length as your orgasm starts to fade.

“is y/n with you?” ace asks. your eyes widen, balling his shirt in your hands.

he nods, giving your ass a tight squeeze as a silent warning not to move. “yeah, she’s right here.”

he quickly takes his fingers out of your mouth, swiping over the trail of saliva running down your chin as he lowers his wing slightly, just so ace could get a look at your face. you’re immediately panicking, cheeks filled with heat as you quickly bury your face into his chest.

“whoa— is she okay? why the hell are you covering her whole body like that?”

“she’s got a fever,” he says flatly, as if his cock wasn’t throbbing inside of you from the thrill of getting caught with you like this. “keepin’ her warm. she’ll be fine,” he emphasizes the last word, squeezing your ass when he feels you tighten against him.

his smile falters when you slowly rock yourself on his cock, trying your best to get some of the stimulation before your orgasm fully fades. you can’t even pay attention to them anymore, not even noticing that ace had left until marco’s hand hooks under your chin, tilting your head up.

“you’re worse than feverish,” he chuckles, helping you bounce up and down his cock. “humping yourself on my cock when ace is right there…”

“you gonna die if i don’t fuck you for five seconds?”

his lips are tugged into a wide grin, shifting his balance before he’s thrusting his hips back up into yours as you whine into his chest. “please….i’m almost..!”

“no need to rush, i got you.”

and you know he does. his cock is such a good stretch, his huge body enveloping yours as you helplessly bounce of his cock, greedy hole taking all of him. you squeal when he slams you down on his length once more, knot inside you finally snapping as you gush around his cock.

you lean into his chest, panting and shaking from the intensity, and you lift yourself off his cock— only for marco to pull you back down on it. “where are you going? we aren’t finished here.”

“you faked one earlier, didn’t you?” “did you think i wouldn’t notice?”

“on my desk next.”

𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍 — fingering, teasing

you should have figured out that robin would catch on to your little act as soon as it happened. your head falls back on her shoulder, one of her hands cupping your tit as her other arm dips lower.

“oh dear,” she chuckles, fingers rubbing harshly at your clit as you bite your lip, trying to mask your expressions as she brings you closer to the edge. “that wasn’t it, my love,” she hums, watching the way your half lidded eyes avoid hers like the plague.

“why are you running from it?”

she can tell you’re really close, painfully close to finishing, but you’re fighting it with everything in you, eyes clenched shut even when your dripping cunt is squelching around her fingers.

“it’s embarrassing….the face i’ll make!” you blurt out, cheeks feeling hot.

her fingers don’t slow down, still working at your clit while her other hand cups your tits. “your face?” robin muses, a tinge of curiosity laced in her voice. “show me it. i want to see.”

“b-but..” you stutter, eyes locked on her fingers working at your cunt. her eyes are only on you, watching your every reaction to her touch. “will you show me it?”

your cheeks only heat up further.

“you’re so cute, my love,” she coos, fingers leaving your tits to dip down to your cunt, slowly fucking them in and out of your walls. “w-wait, robin,” you cry, reaching down to grasp at her wrists.

it does nothing to stop her, and your thighs clench around her hands, unable to relieve the tightness in your core as you reach the edge. “are you feeling good? you made my hands so wet, look,” she smiles, chuckling at the way you flush at the sight of your slick covering her fingers.

your face falls back when she resumes, fingers curling against your walls. “cum properly, okay?” she coos, rubbing harshly at your clit until you cum hard, shaking around her fingers as she gets a good look at you.

you hide your face in your hands, legs trembling around hers. “i told you,” robin whispers, hands running up and down your sides, “i want to see all of your faces. let me try again.”

part 1 : ace, law, lucci, mihawk

part 3 : kid, killer, nami

6K notes · View notes

buckyownsmylife · 13 hours

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❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌. ❞

pairings : law, luffy, sanji, zoro x f!reader

content : fem!reader, smut, soft / needy sex, praise, dry humping, thigh riding, kissing, cunninglingus

info : 2,000 words. minors / ageless blogs do not interact. reblogs are greatly appreciated!

completed requests : one! sorry for the wait :’)

𝐋𝐀𝐖 — established relationship, fingering, kissing, licking his fingers (both you and him)

law’s hand tilts your head to the side, angled up for him to dip down and meet your lips with his. little moans slip out from your mouth as he slots his lips against yours, palm gently cupping your cheek.

he’s always gentle with you, other hand roaming your body to feel your curves against his fingers, a silent and subtle reminder that he thinks you’re the prettiest person he’s ever laid eyes on.

when the two of you are left completely breathless, he pulls away, a thin trail of saliva connecting you to him as he takes in the view of you trembling beneath his touch. “law,” you murmur, leaning into his palm, “i want it today.”

your cheeks fill with heat when he hums deeply, tilting your head back to pepper your neck with soft kisses. “are you sure?” he asks, voice tickling your skin. “please.”

“i really want it,” you continue, letting him pull you up onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to seat you on his growing bulge. “i can tell. i’ll take care of it.”

you know he will. your captain is a dependable one, after all. night after night, you go to him for the best heated makeout session of your life, so you know by now— he always makes you feel loved, makes you feel like you’re sitting on top of clouds. law has a habit of kissing you just to see the ways your knee buckle by the time he breaks away, and tonight is no different.

his fingers dip down into your shorts, running up and down your dripping folds, his fingers picking up your slick as you sigh breathlessly.

“that feels good..” you sigh, back leaning into his chest as you peer up at your captain through lidded eyes. “of course it does.”

“i know your body like the back of my hand.”

you exhale shakily when he pushes his fingers inside, slowly curling against your walls. you think this is the best treatment you could get, his fingers moving perfectly against your needy cunt, giving you exactly what you need. “c-cuz..you’re a doctor?”

“maybe,” he responds flatly. “i pay extra attention to you.”

“to me..? ah—!” you choke out a moan when law picks up the pace, your cunt squelching around his fingers as he curls them against that sensitive spot inside deep inside you.

“yeah— you. you’re troublesome,” he grunts, hand wrapping around your chest to cup your tits. “have to keep an eye on you,”

“make sure you don’t go off and make a mess of yourself without help.”

your mind flashes back to the events of yesterday, your poor attempt at making yourself cum resulting in you waking him up at odd hours of the night, shyly asking for help. you let him rock you back and forth on his thighs, finishing with your slick soaked through your shorts. “you know to come to me when you’re ready for more,” he reminded you, and you definitely felt ready now.

his lips tug into a snarky grin when your thighs instinctively slam shut, body squirming around from the foreign feeling— undeniable orgasm quickly approaching with the way he’s focused his fingers on one spot inside you.

your gaze shifts to his arm, the muscles of his forearm flexing with each movement of his fingers, and trails down to his tattoos, seeing ‘A’ and ‘T’ coated in a shiny layer of your slick. “l-law, it’s coming,” you cry out, head falling back against his chest.

“don’t fight it,” he responds, angling his arm to curl his fingers into you with more force. you’re so close, so close to finishing that all it takes is for his fingers gently roll against your nipples just right, fingers reaching deep inside of you to finally push you over the edge. you yelp as your hips tremble, law holding you back against him with his free arm to keep you still.

“too much!” you cry out, grasping onto his arm to pry him off of you. his fingers slip out of you with a squelch, his hand dripping in your slick as your face burns. “open,” he commands, two fingers moving to prod at your bottom lip.

he grins when you suck obediently, eyes slammed shut from the embarrassment of how wet he’s gotten you— not even touching you with his dick yet. “law,” your words come out slurred from the way you’re licking up his fingers, “can we do more?”

“yeah,” he pulls his hand out, bringing it to his face to lick up his palm, eyes darkening when heat returns to your face at the sight. “we have all night. we can put that time to use— come closer.”

𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘 — making out, dry humping, praise

“pretty” is all luffy says before smashing his lips against yours, tongue prodding deep inside your mouth while he lifts you onto the counter.

he groans loudly when you suck on his tongue, your fingers knotting in his hair to pull his body between your thighs. with a stumble, luffy falls forward, his hands slamming down on either side of you to catch himself.

“f-feels good,” he mutters against your lips, bulge now pressed firmly against your shorts as he gasps into the kiss. what luffy doesn’t expect is for you to boldly cup his cock with your hand, rubbing up and down the thickness as he chokes out moans straight into your mouth.

“luffy,” you pull away from the kiss, “i wanna do more today.”

“like what?” his voice is just above a growl, strained from how good your hand feels wrapped around his length. “like..whatever’s on your mind.”

“can i?” he asks, voice laced with urgency. as soon as you nod, he’s rutting his hips into yours, hands coming to cup your tits. there’s an air of desperation with the way he moves against you, mind reduced to acting on pure instinct now that you’ve asked for it.

“you’re so pretty,” he growls, eyes locked on the faces you’re making for him. you think it’s cute, the way your body is sprawled out and open for him, just to have him stare at your face anyways. “so pretty.”

“captain,” you sigh into his touch, fingers tugging at his hair to pull him closer to you. his hands come to cup your ass, lifting you up to let you latch onto him. “can’t wait anymore,” he groans, moving you up and down his hardened length. “wait! our clothes are still on…”

luffy wasn’t exactly known for his patience. regardless, he was always respectful of your boundaries, making it a habit to ask you if something was okay before he touched you. as soon as you let him know it was okay though, he’s pouncing on you in an instant, all thoughts leaving his head as he lets his mind fill with you and how soft you feel instead.

“doesn’t matter,” his voice is strained with desperation, “it’ll work out. just need to feel you.”

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈 — thigh riding, dry humping, “princess,” “love,” “angel”

“you’re so pretty,” sanji mumbles against your lips. his hands are latched onto your waist, rocking you back and forth on the muscle of his leg, groaning at the way your cunt drags along his quad. he can feel everything so well— your throbbing cunt down to the slicked folds rubbing against him.

his lips tug into a gentle smile when you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder to hide your embarrassment. sanji flexes his thigh, cock twitching in his pants when you give him the prettiest moan directly beside his ear. “you feeling good, my princess?”

“mhm…” you nod, “feels good sanji…want more.”

he raises his leg slightly, moving your hips faster against him. “are you sure you’re ready for more?”

“yes! i want more.”

with a hum, he pulls you flush against his lap, letting your throbbing cunt feel the bulge against his pants. your eyes widen at the size, and he thinks your look of nervousness is endearing. “are you still sure, love?”

a low groan slips out when you begin to rock your hips against his, hands balling up against his chest as you huff. “i’m sure. you never let me make you feel good.”

you wrap your fingers around his wrist, a cute (but futile) effort to keep him from touching you as you hump his clothed cock. “i wanna do something for you too!”

he looks pretty when he’s caught off guard, lips slightly parted and eyebrows raised as he processes what you’re saying. his smile returns soon after, lovesick cook easily wrapping an arm around you to gently set you down on your back. “you don’t understand,” he says through half lidded eyes.

your face burns with heat when he presses his cock against your cunt, lowering himself on his elbows to fluster you further. “all this,” he pushes further against your pussy, delighting in the cute little noise you make, “is because of you.”

you can smell his cologne with how close he is to you, face directly beside yours now. he tilts his head to whisper into your ear, “you don’t even have to do anything for me to feel like i’m in heaven.”

“but if you want it, i’ll give you it. anything for you, my angel.”

𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 — cunninglingus, hair tugging

“are you sure you want this?”

your embrace around your pillow tightens, eyes barely peeking above the fluff to watch as zoro settles between your legs. “mhm,” you nod, curiously watching him pry your thighs further apart.

he looks up at you, maybe to check for hesitation, but is faced with the sight of you watching him intently— heat rising to his cheeks at the attention. “you don’t need to look so hard!”

“there’s nothing else to look at!” your eyebrows furrow while your gaze angrily shifts the wall behind him instead.

without warning, his warm tongue licks a stripe up your folds, not paying attention to the way you jolt from the sudden stimulation. zoro gives one, two, three testing licks around your cunt before he dives in, tongue moving around your clit with fervor when he catches onto your reactions.

his eyes narrow up at you when he finds you watching him again, cheeks tinging with pink as he closes his eyes to focus with a grunt, tongue lapping at your pussy until you’re soaking wet for him. “t-that feels good,” you mumble into your pillow, thighs started to squeeze against his head as he eats you out.

“guide me,” he grunts, blush deepening when your cunt jolts from the vibrations of his voice. your fingers come to tangle in his hair, unknowingly pulling him roughly against your cunt.

his eyes widen, tongue stuffed inside you in one swift moment. “z-zoro!” you cry out, head falling back as you accidentally pull him deeper. he groans loudly, vibrations of his voice getting stronger with each noise he makes.

zoro pulls back, gasping for air once before he buries his face back into you, tongue learning which spot makes you crumble the fastest. you squeeze your pillow with all your might, moaning into the fabric with your eyes slammed shut, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“hey.”

“if you’re gonna watch, then watch me all the way through.”

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buckyownsmylife · 13 hours

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𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 + 𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐌

pairings : zoro, law x f!reader

info : nsfw / smut. 1,500 word count. minors & ageless blogs dni. reblogs appreciated! tw blood in header.

content : heavy size kinks, mild exhibitionism, dry humping, wall sex, creampie, table sex, kissing, check the individual tags

request : “would u be willing to do a drabble for zoro with a size kink and some light exhibitionism? 🥺🥺”

𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 — size kink, sex on a table, strength kink? almost breaks a table, mild exhibitionism, dry humping, wall sex

there’s something about the way you struggle to take him that makes you so addicting to zoro. the initial spread of your walls, or how your hole tries its hardest to open up for his cock, only to find that it’ll be a hard stretch no matter what. zoro loves that— that no matter how much time he spends prepping you, he always has to push into your hole as carefully as he can to avoid completely breaking you.

the soft little moans escaping your lips bring him back to reality— you cutely bent over on the kitchen table as zoro rubs his cock against your ass. his eyes are fixated on the size difference alone, the globes of your ass hugging his thick length as he dry humps you. each movement of his hips is rough, pushing you up onto the tips of your toes— feet almost coming entirely off the floor from his roughness.

“z-zoro, everyone is asleep!”

his hands come to squeeze your ass, not missing the way your dripping cunt flutters against nothing. “doesn’t matter.”

he’s so big, thick cock dragging against your folds as you give your best efforts to keep yourself grounded. his broad chest is hovering just above your back, occasionally smacking against you from a particularly rougher thrust. the table itself is already creaking, rocking back and forth from zoro’s own thrusts— and he hasn’t even stuck his dick inside you yet.

“shit,” he curses under his breath, cock hot and heavy as he groans into your ear. “turn around, i needa be inside you.”

his strong arms wrap around you, laying you gently onto the table as his hands cage you in, your own thighs open and ready to take him as he hovers over you. “you think you’re ready?”

his voice is low, cock hungry to bury itself inside of you as he rubs his tip down your folds, length still glistening in your arousal. no matter how many times you take zoro, you can’t seem to get used to how thick his cock is— how big it looks in comparison to your little hole. it’s always a mystery to how he can get fully inside, bury his cock so deep inside you until his balls smack against the skin underneath your hole.

you mumble a please, and his grin spreads wide when he starts to push in, the head spreading your walls open as your eyes flutter shut, holding yourself as wide open as you possibly can to make room for him. “there you go,” he sighs, head tilting back as his jaw drops from the tightness of your cunt.

he’s so addictive, and not just the size of the dick inside your cunt, all of him is big. the huge arms on either side of your head, the muscles of his defined delts and chest flexing every so often, and his entire frame looming over yours with ease.

“more— move please,” you whisper, wanting nothing else but zoro to ruin you.

“if you say so,” he grins, starting a rough pace as the table immediately starts swaying loudly from the movement, “but you better hold tight.”

and you do, arms wrapping around his neck as you cling onto him, feeling him even deeper inside you. you think he’s reaching your tummy with each thrust, cock hitting the deepest parts of your cunt— and he doesn’t hold back, hips roughly smacking against you as he buries his cock inside. “yeah, you can always take all of me, can’t you?” he sighs, watching the way your cunt helplessly flutters around his length.

there’s an air of desperation in the way he fucks you tonight, thrusts not slowing down in the slightest as he leans down to kiss your neck. he only seems to be getting rougher, cock pounding into you, and you feel as if you’re being crushed by his weight.

naturally, it takes you a few seconds to process the deafening crack below you— zoro hovering above you with wide eyes as the two of you realized that the table cracked down the middle from his sheer strength.

“z-zoro! the…..table,” you fumble, gasping when he picks you up off the table that’s on the verge of splitting in two. despite the obvious risk of the two of you getting caught in such a position, he doesn’t seem to pay much attention, if any, to the cracked piece of wood.

“fuck, my bad,” he responds flatly, “couldn’t hold back. cook’ll fix it later or something.”

the words roll off his tongue without a single hint of remorse, hands focused on gripping your thighs to bring you against a wall, his cock never leaving your pretty walls as he resumes his pace.

at this new angle, zoro can reach impossibly deeper inside you, making you whine and grasp onto his large shoulders. “w-wait— what if someone comes?” you sob, biting your lip to hold back the noises slipping from you from the fullness.

“they won’t,” he hushes, “but you better keep it down! you’re moaning too loud—”

“c-can’t,” you whine, burying your face into his neck. “it’s deeper than before!”

his teeth are clenched, unable to stop himself even if someone does come. he grunts out your name, capturing you in a breathless kiss as soon as you look up at him.

his tongue prods at your own, sloppily kissing you through groans in a futile attempt to muffle your moans. he’s eating up every moan that spills from your mouth, pushing you harder against the wall to keep you still for him, snapping his hips against yours over and over.

he only pulls away to press his forehead to yours, body flush against your own as he clenches his jaw, the pump of his hips getting sloppier as he approaches his high.

“fuck—gonna fill you up,” he groans loudly into your ear. “you’re gonna cum with me, aren’t you? you better.”

and you do, nails digging deep into his back as he lets out a deep groan, bordering a growl as his hips stutter into yours, his cock squirting thick ropes of cum into your cunt as you’re held open for him to take every drop of it.

your eyes widen at the fullness. you didn’t think you could feel any fuller— but his cock is so thick, so thick that none of his cum can even spill out of your cunt.

zoro’s fingers are tight around your thighs, holding you still as he pants into your shoulder. “you can go once more, right?”

“don’t care if that stupid cook comes anymore. i’m only taking care of what’s mine.”

𝐋𝐀𝐖 — mild exhibitionism, he licks ur fingers, briefly dry humping, caught masturbating

“did you think you wouldn’t get caught?” he asks in a low voice, hand wrapping around your wrist to bring your dripping fingers to his face. “i told you to come to me when you want this.”

your cheeks heat up further at the embarrassment of being caught knuckles deep in your cunt in front of your captain, only days after he specifically told you to come to him instead.

his chest presses against your back, your own eyes fixated on the arms wrapped around your body, pretty hands running up and down your sides as you tremble at his touch. “don’t move,” he commands, motioning at your fingers still inside yourself. “i’m s-sorry, law..” you murmur, head turning to pout at your captain.

there’s an audible click of his tongue before he breaks eye contact. “you think you can just do as you like, touching yourself without coming to me. what if someone else caught you?”

his tattooed hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your hand out with a lewd squelch. “i shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“law, i need help,” you whine, innocent eyes locking with his. no matter how much he tries to be upset with you, he can’t help it when you ask for his help so nicely. “don’t look at me like that,” he grumbles, bringing your dripping fingers to his mouth to slowly lick up the length of each finger you stuffed inside yourself.

he grins when your eyes widen at the sight of him sucking on your fingers, warmth flooding your cheeks in an instant. “y-you don’t need to do that!” you protest, but he doesn’t stop.

his hand is big, enveloping yours as he gently licks up every ounce of arousal on your hand. “i’m taking care of you now.”

he pulls you onto his lap, your dripping cunt resting on his clothed dick as you gasp at the imprint of it. through his pants— you can feel it, the outline of his cock, nudging at your hole.

“we should move— shouldn’t we?” you ask, your walls fluttering around nothing at the warmth throbbing against your cunt, which doesn’t go unnoticed by law. “you didn’t seem to mind touching yourself in a place where anyone could see,” he responds, “so don’t whine.”

“i’m taking you right here. it’s in your best interest to stay quiet— unless you want the others to hear you crying that it’s too big.”

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buckyownsmylife · 13 hours

Note

Law and BONDAGE (seastone handcuffs)

𝐋𝐀𝐖 + 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐄 & 𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐒𝐌 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐋.

18+ MDNI. fellatio, teasing, bondage (cuffs), orgasm denial, f!reader/ described as pretty & innocent

“s-slow down—fuck,” law groans from where he’s laying in front of you, built thighs spread to make room for you in the center, your head bobbing up and down his length. you’re drawing the most sinful groans from him with each sloppy noise you make, your tongue teasing the tip once you reach the top.

“hey— listen to me,” he growls, his usual demanding tone now sounding like a desperate plea. the seastone cuffs above him clang together as his abs flex from the stimulation, glaring hard as you when you glance up at him through your pretty lashes.

he’s sure that an innocent face like that doesn’t suit the way you’re making him feel.

“hmm?” your words come out muffled with his length down your throat. “don’ wanna stop.”

his jaw is clenching harder, head thrown back as his chest rises up and down from the panting. the tension building up inside him is so intense, and it just makes him that much more desperate to touch you— grab a fistful of hair as he flips you around and dumps his cum in you.

the ripple of his flexed muscles is more apparent as he roughly tugs at the seastone cuffs a second time, grunting in frustration when his arms are pulled right back. if you weren’t so focused on driving him mad with your tongue, you spend more time running your fingers along the tattoos coated in a thin layer of sweat and watch the way he contorts under your touch.

law groans loudly as his hips begin to stutter, cock threatening to spill his load inside, when you suddenly stop— his release melting away before he had even realized it.

“w-what…” his voice comes out raspy, “do you think you’re doing?”

your mouth lets go with a loud pop, tongue coming to playfully lick up and down his length as he shivers, and the look you’re giving him is so innocent he thinks it would be cute in any other situation. “oh..sorry,” you giggle, “guess i got tired.”

he narrows his eyes at you, tugging hard against the cuffs as you giggle, back of your hand coming to cover your lips. “lose that smile and get me out,” he glares at you through labored breaths, “i’ll show you what happens when you use me for your little games.”

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buckyownsmylife · 19 hours

Text

Sanji: "BACK OFF, MOSSHEAD, SHE ASKED ME!"

Zoro: "SHE DIDN'T ASK YOU FOR ANYTHING, CURLY, GET OUT OF MY FACE!"

Sanji: "You gonna make me?!"

Zoro: "You wanna die, you useless--"

Reader: *ready to fucking kill them* "I JUST NEED SOMEONE TO GET THE DAMN BOOK OFF THE DAMN TOP SHELF."

Luffy: *stretches past Zoro and Sanji and grabs the book from the top shelf* "Here you go!"

Reader: "THANK YOU, Luffy!"

Sanji and Zoro: "......."

Luffy:

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buckyownsmylife · 23 hours

Text

This. This, all the time!

sometimes i feel like my writing is too repetitive and needs more nuance but then i remember im writing about sucking dick and cock

#eyre rambles

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buckyownsmylife · 1 day

Text

Dreaming of You

Masterlist here

Word Count: 470+, 900+, 1,200+, 900+

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

Warnings: wet dreams, gn!reader (penetration-reader!receiving), swearing, masturbation, dub con (Using your image to masturbate to), suggestive content, feelings, all individual 'x reader', headcanons, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: This is the Kid-Pirates version of the original Heart-Pirate fic. @jintaka-hane asked for it, @nerium-lil and I needed it. I love these guys. Please read the warnings.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @indydonuts @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff @carrotsunshine

“Please, don't stop. Don't stop!” You sobbed in desperation, the feeling of his thrusting causing tears to spill from your eyes in ecstacy. You writhed as he sheathed himself deep within your stomach, overcome by his brutal rapidity in using your body to chase his own high.

He tugged at your hair, pounding you from behind while he anchored his chin into your neck. Turning his head, he gnawed at your shoulder with a deep, purple bite, prompting you to cry out his name as he kept bullying that sweet spot deep within you. He tugged harder on your hair, looking into your face from behind and witnessing its contortion in pleasure.

“Please, please,” you whined his name, in a begging chant, “Please cum in me. Use my body for your pleasure. I n-need it.” His eyes rolled back, tightening his hold on your waist and digging his nails into your hair. He immediately barked out a string of curses, spilling his hot cum deep within you with a soft chant of your name.

The contractions of your body fluttering around his throbbing cock prompted him to cry your name and chase his high with more intentional snaps of his hips. His hot spurts splash up within you as he molded your body to the shape of his throbbing cock.

“Nnghm, you f-fucking feel that?” he growled, his brows furrowing as he pressed his hand on your stomach to feel the tip of his cock deep in you, “I’m cumming so fucking deep. I'm-... fuck, hnmh-... I'm cumming.” You mewled for him, throwing your head back on his shoulder and rocked yourself on him.

“Yes. F-Fuck, yes. Keep going,” The spectral, dream-like image of your body crying for him branded itself into his memories. He couldn’t get enough, his eyes glazing over as he witnessed you take his entire, heavy load deep within you.

The yelp of his name, the dopey smile on your lips, and body glistening in a soft dew of pleasure had him chasing your high and over stimulating his thick cock buried within you. He pummeled himself deeper, huffing and panting before feeling a sense of pride at feeling you clench around him as you cum for him.

“Ahh, f-f-fuck,” he barked, shooting the few final spurts of his release into you before the image dissipated and was shrouded in murky shadow.

His eyes snapped open, looking down to his stomach as he witnessed the damp patch of sticky cum deep into his pants. His cock twitched, grinding his knob against his underwear as it began to deflate.

Cringing, he opened the waistband of his pants and growled at the translucent release coating his cock, fluid pooling down his shaft and leaking down his balls. He groans at the sight before falling back and wallowing in self pity.

“Fuck-...”

Eustass Kid

“..-You.” Kid growled, pinching his brow with his right hand before rubbing his eyes and face with his palm, “Fuck you!” He kicked back his bedsheets, springing to his feet and growling all the while.

Aggressively peeling off his pajama pants, he used the coarse material to clean his cock of the remnants of his illusionary desires. He rolled them into a ball and threw them to the other side of the room, snarling at the fact his body betrayed him in such a way.

Grumbling, groaning and pouting, he kicked at the side of his bed and sifted through his clothes to find a fresh pair of pants. He was angry, mostly, at himself; the way his cock decided to take the lead in ushering him through dreams he knew would never be a reality. You were a part of his crew! His job was to lead you, and your role was to trust him enough to follow his orders.

Drawing back over encounters with you on his crew, real and tangible moments you shared together, his frown deepened at the thoughts. Your smile beaming at him, the way you stood in front of him to protect him from harm's way, the way you followed his orders with nothing uttered besides a simple: “Yes, Captain”, the way your back arched when you recoiled tangled ropes.

He halted at that thought, zeroing in on that moment. Your ass. Your perfect ass. His cock twitched in his pants, prompting his right hand to reach down and readjust the angle within the tight fabric.

A sneer found its way to his lips, pouting as he replayed the hazy dream he woke from moments prior. Listening to the way your tongue rolled over his name, the way you so easily sucked his cock deep within your body, the feel of his hand reaching around your stomach to feel the protrusion from within your abdomen externally - he began to grow angry.

You did this to him.

This was your fault.

He began to stomp towards the top deck, knowing that he rostered you on for the night shift in the crows nest to keep watch. Twitching his right hand, he began to buzz the sparks of magnetism to coil around your leather uniform at the metal ring in center of your chest.

Gazing over at the sea, you feel your eyes droop. Your body is overcome with exhaustion after keeping yourself awake through the cryptid hours, a yawn calling to you with a tightness in your chest. As you clamp your lips shut after a lengthy yawn, you feel the tightness in your chest grow, the center of your harness buzzing to life and shaking with static.

“What the-... Ahh!” you exclaim, feeling your body soar through the air and down the top mast towards the angry figure of your Captain. You shriek in shock, your back thumping against the stiff mast as the crackling energy pinned you against the wood.

Eustass Kid stomps his heavy boots over to you, your brows knit in both shock and fury at how he made your body dance within the air so easily with his devil-fruit ability.

“What the fuck is your problem, Captain-?” you attempt to ask, your voice being silenced by a feral, barking growl of your Captain.

“-You’re my problem!” Kid roared, looking down his nose at you and curling back his lips to bare his teeth at you, “Walking around wearing that leather outfit like you're some part of BDSM club!”

“The fuck?” you question him, truly confused as you downturn your lip, “You gave this to me, Sir. It's a part of our uniform? You make all of us wear one!” You bark back at him, sneering up at him.

“Fuck you,” Kid snarled, stepping closer to you and closing the gap between your bodies. You end up more confused, up-turning your lip as you feel your anger more tangible.

“Fuck me?” you snarl, shaking your head, “Fuck you, Sir,” you spat, darting your eyes down his chest to get a read on his posture and body language. “You can't just go around calling people to you when you feel like it! What the fuck is wrong with- Mmmfph!”

Hot lips crash atop yours, Kid's bruising kiss shocking your senses more than the initial spectral grab through the air. His teeth bit at your lips, his roaming right hand snaking around your waist and grasping at your ass in a rough fistful. You cry out in shock as he begins kneading it beneath his palm.

“Fuck-,” Kid muffled against your mouth, tilting his head and dragging his tongue over your lips, “-You.”

Offended, you fight back. You bit his bottom lip, aggressively flicking your tongue into his mouth and wriggling against the buzzed pin of your harness against the wood.

“Fuck you, Captain,” you snarl, gasping into his mouth, and wrapping your legs over his hips to find purchase against them. He drove his hips forward, grinding its clothed, thick cock against your pelvis; his knob already beginning to weep with precum from the moment you reciprocated his advances. You groaned against his lips, still partially in shock as to why your captain was kissing you like this.

Kid refused to allow his dreams to get the better of him, falling victim to its foggy, illusionary composition. Why should he make up some fictitious memory when the real thing was so much better?

Massacre Soldier Killer

Overcome with the sheer embarrassment of his intrusive thoughts, he closed his eyes and took a moment to collect himself.

“Keep going,” the mirage called to him, his hazy form using your body as a muse for pleasure, “Killer, I need you.” He snapped upright, stomping over to his laundry basket and peeled off his sticky pants and underwear. Aggressively thrusting the soiled garments in the hamper, he drew his hands up to his hair and scraped it back with his fingers.

As his fingers met with his hair, he was reminded of the image his mind made of the texture of yours. The thump of your hips meeting his, the ripples of your ass as it slapped back into him, the way your body felt wrapped around his cock: he was haunted by you. He growled, his hands shaking with rage at his mind defiling the image of you and forcing his body to cum.

“You deserve better than this,” Killer whispered aloud, shaking his mask-covered face and scowling at his cock, “The fuck is wrong with me?” He cleaned himself up with a few tissues from his bedside table before shrugging his pants over his hips and making his way to the bathroom.

He saw a light reflected in the basin and vanity of the small bathroom, watching as your hunched figure bent itself over the sink and washed your face. You had a soft wiggle in your movements, humming as you shook your hips and splashed water on your face.

Frozen in place, he had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask. He shamelessly raked his eyes over the curvature of your ass, watching as you arched your back to gaze at your reflection. Focussing on ridding the night off your features and waking yourself up, you didn't notice him standing behind you.

Transfixed by your gentle hum, he couldn't bring himself to scold his rapidly buzzing thoughts at what you looked beneath your pajamas. The prior dream and lustful visions had his cock twitch beneath his pants. You finally noticed his presence beside you, calling out your greeting to him and asking your question.

“Killer, can you fuck me, please? I need to know how your body tightens as you paint my insides with your sticky cum. I need it, please.”

Killer snapped his eyes up to your face, noticing you cock your head to the side with a puzzled expression. His body tightened, tensing his muscles as he gulped back a large, dry lump; his Adam's apple bobbing at the thought.

“Wanna run that by me again?” Killer asked, stuttering over the words. You smile warmly at him, briefly examining his body.

“I said: ‘Morning, Killer. Can you pass me that towel please? I kinda need it to dry my face’,” you giggle, gesturing to the towel beside him with your index finger. He hastily rustled the towel into his hands and thrust it out in front of him. You express your gratitude with a soft nod of your head, swiping at your face to dry it.

You take a moment to study him, noticing the tension in his chest and subtle shake in his hands. His body remained stationary, staring at you as you attempted to get a read on him.

“Did you want the basin?” you ask him, no response being met with your question. Killer deeply inhaled, exhaling with a soft sigh of deep mourning. “Kil? You okay? Rough night?” He snapped out of it, gazing at you through the holes in his mask and smiling softly.

“I feel like I should apologize to you,” Killer confessed, reaching out his hands to take your towel and hanging it on your allocated hook. “Look, I-...” he trailed off, shaking his head and clicking his tongue, “...I had a dream about you, and it didn't put you in a good position. I feel like I should apologize to you for it.”

“Oh? What do you mean? What position?” your brows knit together, looking at him with confusion, “Were we fighting or something? Hah! Did I win?” He took a moment to step forward, offering his hands up in defense.

His silence has you concerned, looking down at him before your eyes widened in shock. Killer was admitting he had a dream about fucking you.

“O-Oh…” you exclaimed in shock before your lips curled into a light smirk, “Ohh, that kind of dream…” Stepping forward, you gently jab at him with your index finger with a loud, teasing laugh. “And how was I, big guy?” you teased him, grinning a winning smile and biting your tongue playfully at him, “Did you finish? Did I finish?” He remained silent and crossed his arms over his chest, prompting you to squeal out a choked laugh.

“Oh shit, did you-...” your eyes snapped down to his pants before gazing back into the holes in the mask where his eyes would be, “...Did you actually finish? Like, in the dream, and outside of it?” your smile widened, a soft blush growing on your face as he remained silent and stoic.

“Oh, Killer!” you laughed, clapping your arms around his biceps and giving him a gentle hug with a light laugh, “It's fine. Honest! No judgment from me” you break from the embrace to glance up at him. “Sometimes our minds just run away with us. Enjoy the show. I’m flattered, truly.”

He couldn't help but be in awe of your response, watching as you turned back around and began fixing your hair in the reflection. You began humming your song again, attempting to ignore the rising flutters in your chest at the notion that somewhere, deep beneath the muscular exterior of Killer’s extremely built body, the first-mate had a soft spot for you.

“You forgive me, then?” Killer asked softly, unfolding his arms and hanging them by his side.

“There's really nothing to forgive, but if you think you need it, sure. I forgive you, big guy,” you suggested, getting frustrated at yourself as your hair decided to become uncooperative, “Can help me with my damn hair, and then tell me all about it? In graphic detail? I gotta know what you had me do in your dreams.” Laughing at your own response, your smile was wiped from your face as Killer grabbed a rough fistful of your hair.

He arched you back, feeling your body meet with his chest as he held your hair. His grip was tight enough to halt your motion, but loose enough to not harm you. You let out a soft squeak of shock, eyes widening as you stared at him in the reflection. His other arm snaked around your hips, holding you flush against him.

“Tell you?” he whispered into your ear, tugging your hair to have your head lull back against his shoulder, “Why do that when I can show you?” He nuzzled his head into your neck, freezing before flinching away to check in, “That is, if this is something that you want?”

You blink back your shock, gawking at the position he had you in. Your mind raced a thousand ways a second as you darted your eyes over his hold on you. You whisper quietly, eyes wide and innocent while your curiosity peaks.

“Yes, please.”

Heat

Heat growls at himself, thrusting his left hand into his tangled head of lengthy bed hair before slumping back down into the mattress. Scarred lips quirk down at the corners, his mouth pouting as he contemplates over what just happened.

His crewman, his confidante, his friend: you. He had conjured up an astral projection within his slumber of you writhing on his cock as he thrust deep, languid movements up into your body. The feeling of your spectral image wrapped around his thick shaft, the way you shook like a leaf around him the moment you came undone; it was all enough to spark a new round of inspiration to ignite within his cock.

He reached down into his pants, wrapping his underwear around his already half-hard cock and began grinding the slippery material down over his shaft. The shame he felt was eclipsed by the way your voice haunted him, the way you poured his name over your lips.

“Heat,” he heard you within his mind's eye, “Fuck me, Heat. I need you. Please fuck me.” He whimpered, drawing up the covers to his lips and biting down on the thick blanket. Scrunching his eyes shut, he began thrusting his hips up to meet with his pistoning cock in his palm.

He whispered your name, groaning as his tongue brushed with the duvet. He rolled within the bed, keeping the blankets within his clamped teeth as he began bucking into his hand. Although he took you from behind in his dream, he was picturing your face in his mind.

The way you'd hang your mouth to form a perfect “O” when you came, the way your thighs would quake as your body tingled with the first contraction of your orgasm, the way he would be able to see the deep bulge within your stomach considering the size difference between you. He huffed, panting your name as he heard what you'd say when you came undone.

“Heat, I-I’m gonna cum,” he screwed his eyes shut, tongue flicking out over the blanket as he continued to chase his high, “Please let me. I n-need to. Please let me cum on your cock.” He allowed his mind to get the best of him, picturing exactly how your toes would curl behind his back.

“Y-You like that?” he whispered your name, “You like the way my cock feels deep inside you?” His whisper and huffed pants of your name echoed in his private quarters, his solitude in this moment being his only comfort.

Giving himself permission to use your name while he pleasures himself, he came to terms with the way he felt about you. To him, you were perfect. You were the person for him: his favorite person. The person he wants to come to bed with after a long day to snuggle - to fuck into his mattress, and to ruin for any other partner due to how well he would seek to please you.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered your name, screwing his eyes shut tighter and feeling the soft prick of tears at the corners of his eyes, “You wanna cum? Wanna cum with me?” He doubled down his efforts, “You want my cum? I'll fucking fill you up.”

He groaned a final call of your name, rutting into his hand deep against the mattress and painting the inside of his underwear with thick spurts of scorching cum.

“I-I'm cumming,” he cried your name, whimpering and growling it like an animal in heat while staggering his thrusts into his hand, “Oh, I'm cumming for you.”

After riding his palm coming down from his high, he immediately felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame at the fact he used your image to chase his release into his hand. His blush deepens, his disgust growing as he feels the sticky pool seeping through his underwear and into his pajama pants.

Hastily springing to his feet, he kicked off the pants to avoid more of a spill and grimaced as he peeled off his underwear. Folding the material in half, he used it to clean the rest of his shaft before tossing them into a hamper beside his bed. He redrew up the pajama pants over his hips and walked over to his door, collecting his bathroom supplies as he prepared himself for a proper shower to wake himself up.

As he opened his door, he was met with a statuesque figure of a fist balled at his chest height and intending to knock. His eyes widened, looking down to see your widened eyes and deep flush coating your face in several shades darker than your original hue.

His own face immediately flushed with blood, his cheeks darkening to a deep purple color the moment he saw your face. Your fist shook lightly, your lips parted and your eyes slowly blinked.

You had just caught Heat masturbating, and he had whispered your name while he came. Without truly a clue as to what to do with this information, you gulped back a dry mouthful and stated your purpose.

“Captain sent me to get you to come on watch-shift with me in the next twenty,” you managed to choke out, avoiding eye contact with Heat as his shock drew further up his face, “I made us breakfast-.”

Heat immediately slammed his bedroom door in your face, turning on his heels and throwing his hand up to cover his eyes in shame. He yelled into his palm, stifling the sound as his embarrassment and shame washed over his body in a cold, icy wave.

This was going to be one very long, very awkward, and very tense shift.

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buckyownsmylife · 1 day

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when zoro fucks, he FUCKS. during doggy he'll push your head into the pillows as he fucks into your sopping cunt. if he asks you a question he wants you to respond— even if it is with a long whine or sob, he loves hearing you. he'll ask for you to recite words back to him, and if you don't he'll fuck you harder. he's the type to stuff two fingers in your mouth, gagging you and coating his fingers with your saliva just to rub it all over your face. during missionary he'll choke you, slap you around maybe.

he knows you won't find anybody else to fuck you like this so he has to. he wants you to squirt all over him, drench him if you can. loves seeing that creamy ring around his thick cock, just more proof that you love getting fucked like a helpless slut.

you are zoro's fucktoy, his personal fleshlight. and he's gonna fuck you that way.

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buckyownsmylife · 1 day

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No One Better

Note: Ahh I didn't know how to go about this, but here it is! It's another in the OP Men as Dads series, but this one is ONLY Zoro and his son. I just had this idea after seeing this OC template on Pinterest, and I had to do it, I couldn't not. I have thoughts floating around for other characters in this same vein of calming down their children, and I will post them separately like this most likely! For now, please enjoy Zoro being a wonderful, soft dad to his little boy. 🥹 I want to have his babies so bad, where is my irl Zoro omg

Your son may be Zoro’s child too, but he’s a big crybaby when either of you are missing from his sight. He could be happily sitting in your lap or on Zoro’s chest, but when Keitaro notices one of you isn’t around, he immediately pouts and begins to cry. At first it’s legitimate tears, until he learns that he can get you with crocodile tears because that’s your baby boy, of course you’re going to run to him when he cries! You figured it out quickly when he instantly started to smile and coo at you the first time he cried crocodile tears to get your attention, Zoro didn’t believe you for a few weeks until your ten-month-old did it to him too. He just loves you and Zoro so much, he wants you both around him all the time.

Zoro is able to calm him down very easily, just by talking to Keitaro gently. An older woman on an island you stopped at was surprised to see how easily Keitaro calmed down and went from nearly sobbing to happy little giggles when Zoro just took him from you and started asking him what was wrong, why was he so upset all of a sudden (he couldn’t see Zoro standing nearby, that was the problem). The woman was highly impressed and said her own husband hadn’t been that good with their children, it made you smile and thank her for the compliment, since you knew Zoro would never.

Keitaro is big enough to sit up on your lap during a party between your crew, the Heart Pirates, and the Kid Pirates when the three of you run into each other. Members of your (now permanently) allied crews coo and fawn over your son, the youngest of all the crews, and he adores the attention he receives from all these new people. Once everyone goes back to drinking and playing games, you choose to stay to the side with Keitaro, keeping him from the alcohol and making sure he stays happy while everything goes on, and he does, looking around at everyone and giggling when he sees Luffy do something funny.

Keitaro is happy and calm until he realizes he doesn’t see Zoro anywhere, making your nearly year old son start to pout and fuss. You try your hardest to calm him down when he really starts to cry and kick his legs because he’s frustrated, quietly speaking to him and placing kisses on his little head to help.

“Hey, little guy,” you feel beyond relived when Zoro comes over, resting his arms on your thighs and getting nose to nose with your son, which starts to calm him down, “What’re you crying for?”

Keitaro slowly calms down, looking at Zoro cross-eyed at first before his eyes fully focus on him, starting to smile and coo again as he puts his tiny hands on Zoro’s face. It makes Zoro smile in return as he takes your son from you, intending to give you a small break.

“Let’s give mama a few minutes to enjoy the party too, yeah?” Zoro gently tosses your son in the air a few times, Keitaro letting out squeals and giggles in response.

You slip away to the girls for a while, Ikkaku giving you a smile and telling you how lucky you are with Zoro, causing you to look back at them with your own smile. Keitaro has his thumb in his mouth as he lays against Zoro’s chest where he can see you, content and slowly falling asleep, while your husband rubs his back to help him relax.

“He’s really the best dad to Keitaro, I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

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buckyownsmylife · 1 day

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law + pining

masterlist

initially, law had been resolved to pay you no mind and let you continue your nap on the couch of the aquarium bar; you looked so peaceful and serene each time he peered at you from over the top of his book, the pinnacle of calmness that he wishes he possessed.

and then you start twitching—no, shivering.

the tranquility of your dream was disrupted, and that simply wouldn't do. reaching for the fluffy throw blanket nearby, law rises to his feet and approaches you, carefully draping the plush fabric over your sleeping form before dropping to the floor to sit and admire you. he promises to only allow himself to stare for a few moments, but it's difficult for him to pull his gaze away from you, especially when daydreams of finding you like this in his bed each morning dance through his head.

this alliance is temporary, he reminds himself. when it ends, your paths will fork, twisting outward in every conceivable direction away from each other. however, law lets himself indulge in something sweet, something selfish, just this once.

he ensures that you're sleeping—truly sleeping and not simply in the process of dozing off—before pressing his lips softly to your forehead. law allows the intentionally silent confession linger for a few moments, and contemplates repeating the action just one more time, but knows better than to press his luck.

heading out the door, he leaves his vulnerability behind, observed by no one but the fish swimming aimlessly back and forth.

and by nami, who was standing in the doorway and charges law a hefty fee in exchange for her silence.

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buckyownsmylife · 3 days

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── 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you just can't get to sleep thanks to a terrible rainstorm terrorizing the ship. luckily, your tossing and turning inspired nami with an idea: just go sleep with the swordsman.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roronoa zoro x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

don' ask about the aesthetic k? k 💙

With how the hail storm rattled against the hull of the ship, and how the vessel careened on the waves, you were at a loss as to how Nami was fast asleep already.

The crew had settled down for sleep hours ago, the laughter and teasing from dinner falling into a soft silence draping over each and every one of you—well, except you, that is.

Even after months at sea, the incessant rocking had you curling into yourself, headache blooming under the skin of your temples. Groaning, you rolled around on your sheets, burying your face in your pillow as you shoved the blanket off your shoulders and down your body. Chill air hit you instantly, a contrast to the sweat rising from your skin. All you wanted was sleep, but your ears rang with the sound of rainfall and the far off thunder rumbling through the sky.

You tossed and turned again and again, rest ever so far away and the sway of the Going Merry making kept your mind alert with all its tilts and jumps. Yet another grunt of frustration huffed from your lips, and Nami finally sprang up, glaring at you from across the cabin.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, her eyes heavy and her annoyance high.

Great. Now Nami was upset, which usually lasted a whole day if you were unlucky. You didn’t bother turning back to look at her, digging yourself deeper into your blanket. “Sorry…”

She sighed and rubbed at her cheek, gaze drifting over your exhausted form, taking in what she could in the dark. Settling back down, Nami said what she’d been thinking for the past two hours of listening to you loll around restlessly. “Just go sleep with Zoro.”

A beat passed, your eyes slowly opening as you tried to convince yourself you’d heard her wrong. You flipped around and gaped at the girl slinking into her sheets with a smirk you would catch through any dark room. “What? Why would I—Why would you—Nami!”

She chuckled darkly, her bright eyes finding yours. Nami propped her head up on her hand. “It wouldn’t be the first time, right?”

Trying and failing to make a comeback, you opened and closed your mouth like a gaping fish, settling on crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s none of your business.”

“Uh-huh,” she drawled. “But I’ve got dawn watch and am in desperate need of sleep.” All you did was stare at her, your glare fading. Nami rolled onto her back, offering into the silence, “It’s not like he’ll turn you away.”

You tried so very hard to let her logic roll off your shoulders, but it was cold (Zoro was warm) and you were tired (Zoro was a good napping buddy). As appealing as the idea was, you didn’t want to bother him. Zoro was probably just getting back from his night watch, Sanji heading up to the deck in his wake. Zoro wouldn’t turn you away, but he might grumble at you, and sometimes that was worse.

“Stop overthinking,” Nami’s voice whispered through a hiss. “He likes you.”

She was just trying to give you heart palpitations saying stuff like that. “Does not.”

“Mhmm. Get some sleep… with Zoro.”

You threw your pillow across the room, missing her bed by a longshot. You could throw pillows and shout whispered words at her all you wanted—it didn’t change that she had a point.

It wouldn’t be the first time you crawled into Zoro’s hammock late at night, seeking shelter from sleeplessness that seemed to miraculously melt in his embrace. Nami might’ve been right; Zoro might like you, at least more than he liked anybody else. It was confusing most days, but your mind was so mushy with fatigue you didn’t bother running over the finer details of your affections for the swordsman.

You puffed out a huff, eliciting a growl from the dark, “Go. Or neither of us will sleep.”

“Fine.” You threw off your blanket and marched out of the cabin before you could lose your nerve, trudging through the nearly pitch black hall of the Merry.

You yelped as you tripped over a discarded broom, cursing into the night as you kicked it aside and kept on toward the boy’s cabin. As soon as you laid eyes on the closed door, your footsteps faltered, heart stuttering.

The ship leaned on the waves and sent you teetering into the wall, and the decision was suddenly easy. You inched the door open gently, wincing at the momentary creak, and slipped inside.

The boys’ cabin always had a… unique scent to it. Somewhere between burning socks and musk is how Nami described it. Honestly (now, you would never tell her this), you just thought it smelled like Zoro. Though Zoro might’ve been slightly less odorous on good days, you mused.

The swordsman of your infatuation lay in a swaying hammock tied up between two support beams holding up the ceiling. A flash of lightning illuminated his peaceful face for a brief moment, and the room was back to black.

Collecting your wits, you approached him slowly, careful not to step on any of the clutters the boys left lying about. Lip pinched between your teeth, you stepped around a crate of slingshot ammo Usopp had crafted, catching your foot on the slingshot itself and jumping out of the way.

You swept the room fretfully, yet no one stirred, the usual snores rising and falling. A sigh puffed form your chest as you turned back to Zoro’s hammock, only to lock eyes with the stoic swordsman as he gazed blearily up at you.

Lurching back, you calmed your racing heart and huffed at him. “You scared me.”

Zoro leaned up on his elbows, confused. “You scared me.” His gaze flickered all over your face. “What’re you doing?”

You fisted your hands, feeling like a deer at headlights, and blurted, “Nami kicked me out.”

Zoro’s brows drew instantly. “What?” He rose halfway when you hand found his chest, gently pushing him back down.

“I mean,” you amended. “I couldn’t sleep, and she got tired of me rolling around…” Bashful in how you averted your eyes, swaying on your feet, “I… sleep better with you. Y’know?”

Not even a second later he tugged on your arm to draw you closer, shuffling over to offer you some room. You smiled softly, falling into the space beside him, molding right into his side. “Yeah, I know.”

Your face warmed, your heart swelled, and you rested your head on the rigid outline of his shoulder, adjusting to find a comfortable place. Zoro’s arm slid under you and curled you further into his side, a sigh pulling from his chest, his muscles literally relaxing under each of your touches.

There wasn’t a name for what you and Zoro were, not yet anyway, and somehow you were fine with that. He was there, and you were there, and that felt like enough. For now, you let your eyes finally give way to exhaustion, the pelting of the rain growing fainter and fainter.

Nami was a tease, but she made some good points a lot of the time. You’d have to thank her in the morning, after you finally got to sleep in the arms of your swordsman.

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buckyownsmylife · 3 days

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when the other one is injured

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buckyownsmylife · 3 days

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Imagine the red haired pirates finding out someone made you cry

You: *sobbing quietly in the hallway leading to your room, thinking the whole crew is out*

Benn: *quietly enters the hall in time to watch you slide down the wall onto the floor and hear a soft gut-wrenching sob leave you* lass?

You: *promptly tries to make it look like you weren't crying* oh, Benn, I thought you went out with the others.

Benn: who was it, love?

You: who was it that what?

Benn: *leans down and wipes a fat warm tear off before it could roll down your cheek* Who. Made. You. Cry.

You: oh this? It's nothing really, just a small disagreement with a man at a bar.

Benn: Please answer my question, love.

You: *deflates in defeat* it was one of Blackbeard's men, the one with the top hat. He... He threatened the captain.

Benn: did he hurt you?

You: No, but he threatened to give me scars that match the ones Teach gave the captain. Something about making our ugly faces match.

Benn: Really now, I'll be back later.

You: what, where are you going?

Benn: to round up the crew, we don't take threats like that lightly, especially from them.

You: is that really necessary?

Benn: yes, now stay put, and don't you worry about a thing, we'll deal with this. *Ruffles your hair before he leaves*

At the bar the crew had gathered at

Shanks: *drunk off his ass* why d'ya look so glum there, bud? Come have a drink with us, buddy. *Enthusiastically slaps the seat of the bar stool next to him*

Benn: no time for that, y'all gotta sober up.

Yassop: Booo! You're no fun!

Benn: Laffitte threatened the captain.

The crew: *quiets down and focuses on Benn *

Shanks: *scoffs* so?

Benn: More importantly, he threatened to mutilate (y/n)'s face to match yours, and made them cry.

Shanks: *stone-cold sober, and livid* seems we need to have a little chat with Laffitte, boys.

The crew: *pulls out the weapons and head for the door*

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buckyownsmylife · 3 days

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• When you pick up on their bad habits •

Headcanons | Kidd, Shanks, Benn | Part 2

• Part 1 • Part 2 •

• C.W: Fluffy sfw crack again, just some silly little thoughts i've been having. Featuring mediator Killer, Kidd is such a big meany, cussing, Shanks is such silly old guy, we've been known, slightly suggestive, really bad dad jokes, age gap if thoust squint, mentions of smoking, he's such a sweetie and deserves it.

• A.N: Would've made a separate one for Killer, but he's so perfect that i couldn't. Don’t mind me desperately trying to amass a slutty hoard cult of Beckman simps. Anyone else notice my content warnings are just really shit summaries?

Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated :)

• Kidd • cussing & swearing (ft. Killer)~

“Shit…” you hiss under your breath after you stub your toe against a table leg.

What you didn’t see was the shocked expressions both Kidd and Killer shared.

Usually, he would do enough cursing for the both of you.

And being his cute little girlfriend, you never ever cursed.

The contrast of your personalities was so...sizeable that people wondered why you two were even together.

Wouldn’t last very long though since you slowly turned into a mini Kidd.

“You dumb fucking idiot!“ you shout at kidd who yet again, ruined another plan of yours.

Bro is baffled, flabbergasted. He would never get used to your growing dirty mouth (even though it is partially all his fault.)

“The fuck did you just say to me???” he grabs the collar of your shirt.

“You heard me, bitch.” you sneer, his eye twitches at your audacity.

Killer being the saint he is, breaks up the fight.

He also made a swear jar for every time you two cussed, and when you did, you’d be forced to forfeit 500 berries (that both of you damn well DID NOT HAVE)

And for everytime you don't pony up some cash, you’d get sucker punched by the big guy.

Both you and kidd hated it.

“That’s such a shit idea why would we-” *Obnoxiously rattles jar*

• Shanks • "that's what she said" jokes~

Childish captain of yours; making “yo momma” and dad jokes at the ripe fucking age of 39.

But his favorite of them all?

“That’s what she said!” a common phrase heard upwards of a millions times per day throughout the ship.

You were bound to get caught up in his silliness…his personality is just that contagious, your honor!

He whines about his broken chair to your shipwright, “See look, it squeaks when you bang it.”

“Heh…that’s what she said.” you snort, paying them only half mind.

Shanks looks at you so damn taken aback “Y/n…that is...SO GOOD, WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT?” he says in awe.

It starts off as admiration, loving that his soulmate was catching onto his dry humor, that is until you caught jokes faster than he could ever.

And boy was he jealous, envious even.

Benn looks off longingly into the sea “It’s gonna be a bumpy ride tonight…”

“HAH, that’s what she said!” you say, passing an evil smirk Shanks’ way, who facepalmed himself for not realizing that one.

Yes, this even happens to him when he’s tryna get…freakayyy.

He whispers low in your ear, “Hey, let’s just blow this party off…”

“Lol, that’s what she said.”

He groans annoyed, “You’re making this harder than it has to be love...”

You know the drill “OH SHIT! She said that too!”

He waves a white flag in defeat.

You win. Can’t hate the player, hate the game.

• Benn • smoking~

Here's the reason I didn't choose smoking for Sanji.

You lean against ship railing, flipping open a lighter and lighting the tip of your blunt ablaze. Inhaling, the rough smoke scratches at your throat.

Standing afar, unbeknownst to you were both Shanks and Benn.

“She’s at it again?” “Yep.”

“I dunnooo beeeck...You seem like a bad influeeence.” Shanks teases.

“You make it sound like she’s a child…” He says lighting a cigar of his own.

“She’s perfectly capable of making her own decisions.”

Yeah he’s saying this now, but he really was worried for your health more than he ever was for his own.

Now, he knew you were stubborn and wouldn’t stop if he asked.

So he’d politely coerce you into it…

Always stealing the cigarette between your lips the very second you light one, “It’s mine now~”

“Give it back!” you say, reaching for it. Your size difference being your ultimate demise…

“You know…your lips would look much much prettier wrapped around my-” You cover his mouth before the very last word. “Okay! I’ll stop!”

“I want Benn off this ship.” you cross your arms in protest, Shanks looking at you hopelessly.

Obviously he won’t throw his first mate overboard.

“What's it this time, Y/n?” he sighs folding his hands.

“I hate him.” you pout, plopping down on a seat across his desk. Speak of the devil, Benn walks in.

“And you tell me she’s not a child Beck…” Shanks laughs obnoxiously “She wishes you a watery grave cause you won’t let her smoke.”

“Can’t hate me for saving the little lady’s pretty lungs.” He plants a kiss on your head.

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buckyownsmylife · 4 days

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18+ minors dni, f!reader, smut

kissing practice with your best friend mingi 💭 his big hands awkwardly resting on your waist so lightly you can barely feel it, awkwardly hunching over you to bring his lips to yours. they’re already red and wet from the amount of times his tongue smooths over them.

you let him do all the work so you can judge him fairly, but mostly to see him so clearly nervous, taking a big deep breath in before squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his mouth to yours. it’s uncomfortable but so cute, his glasses squeezed between your faces and his nose pressing into your cheek, the tips of his fingers digging harder into your skin as he tastes your sweet lip gloss. you can feel his face get warm, fluttering your eyes open just enough to see his cheeks flushing pink with his brows knit together. when you smile into the kiss he pulls away, staring down at you with wide eyes and puffy lips, “why are you laughing?”

“im not” you smile, “it was cute”

mingi would insist you stay and practice with him for hours, until you’re both worked up and hot, sitting in his lap as you work your mouths lazily against each other. you forget all about critiquing him, heat pooling in your tummy at how greedy he is, basically drooling into your mouth as his tongue pushes against yours and runs across your teeth. even though you’re supposed to be 'practicing', neither of you feel the need to unpack how you grind softly against the bulge in his sweats, fingers playing in his hair as you clean up the drool at the corners of his lips with your tongue. he gets so soft and malleable under you, bucking his hips up lazily to bump his clothed cock against you, slumped against the back of the couch as you trail small kisses down his chin to suck bruises onto his neck.

soon he needs help with more than just kissing, inviting you over every weekend so he can play with you all night. he’s so focused as he undresses you, getting on his knees to push your shirt up your tummy as you stand in his room. he has you in his room whenever he gets the chance, obsessed with how soft and pretty you look as you lay on his bed, giving yourself up to him without hesitation after weeks of your arrangement.

his eyes are wide as he looks up at you from between your thighs, watching your cheeks flush and your gaze gloss over as he fucks his tongue into you, his nose nudging against your clit. he chokes back his own moans so he can hear yours, his leaking cock straining against the mattress under him as you whine. he goes so slow, building up your orgasm for hours as he savors your sweet slick, letting it drip down his chin and smear over his flushed cheeks.. can't help himself from pressing his lips to your shaky thighs as you cum, jaw slack in awe as your hole flutters, lips puffy and sticky with slick.

'you look so pretty when you cum,' he would say, but opts for "was that good?"

"really good" you whisper, closing your knees together, "the girl you're practicing for is really lucky"

his lips turn up in a half hearted smile as his long fingers brush through his damp hair, trying and failing to look away as you stand on shaky legs and reach for your clothes. what he can't say is how there is no girl he's practicing for, so ruined for anyone who isn't you as he lays awake in his sheets that still smell like you, choking his cock with his fist with his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, reveling in how lucky he is to have you as his pretty little toy. he's never not thinking of all the things he wants to do to you, wondering how he can convince you that he needs to practice getting his cock sucked.

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buckyownsmylife · 4 days

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Until the First Leaf Falls // Red-Haired Shanks x gn!reader

a/n: written for @threadbaresweater's Summertime (and the Livin' is Easy) collab cw: gn!reader [no pronouns used]; reader's age not specified but implied to be close to shanks' age; suggestive content but no explicit sex depicted; a little angsty wc: 2.6k // read on ao3

The tall seagrass scratches your bare legs as you traipse down to the beach, a picnic basket held tightly in one clammy hand, a bottle of cheap red wine in the other. The afternoon sun looms high overhead, and beads of sweat tickle your neck as you huff and sigh, your pace now just short of a jog. It’s silly, you think to yourself as you reach the sand—it’s awfully silly how a man, a man who doesn’t even belong to you in any sense of the word, manages to make you nervous and eager, turns you into a lovesick teenager with a crush at the mere thought of him.

In the distance, Shanks reclines against the thick trunk of a palm tree, his legs outstretched, hand behind his head. He cracks one eye open and smirks as you approach. “You’re late, sweetheart.”

“Late?” you scoff through panting breaths. “You’re early! I didn’t think you’d be here for another day or two, and next thing I know, someone’s griping about a pirate ship at the docks and it’s you.”

Shanks groans as he stands and stretches, sauntering towards you with a wry grin on his face. “You act like you’re not excited to see me or something.”

“Of course I’m excited to see you, you bastard.” God, the way he so easily takes your heart and holds it in his hand is unnerving. You set your bundle of items down in the sand, and let your arms fall loosely at your sides, surrendering to frustration and longing and the subtle electric currents that always course through your veins when he’s around. “It’s just—I just had to scramble to close up the shop, and I didn’t even have lunch ready, and—”

A wide hand settles on your cheek—he’s sundrenched and warm, his skin rough against yours, familiar and welcome—and he quiets you with a kiss, gentle and soft, just enough to tell you that your rambling is unnecessary. He knows—he already knows it all, knows how wound up you get every year when the delicate winds of spring give way to the sultry air of summer, how the heat makes you restless as you wait for him every year.

“Better?” he murmurs as he pulls away and places a light kiss on your forehead.

You nod, avoiding his gaze for the moment. “Yeah. Better.”

He leans down and grabs the picnic basket, leading you back to the shade of the palm tree, settling in the sand and making great haste to uncork the wine. “So, you mean to tell me you don’t just drop everything and sit here waiting for me when you know I’ll be coming around?”

“Oh, Shanks.” You roll your eyes and pick at a loose thread on your shorts before stretching out your legs and placing them in his lap. “If I did that, I’d be out of a job.”

Shanks clucks his tongue and shakes his head, a low laugh reverberating in his chest. He runs a hand up your calf and gives your thigh a good, firm squeeze.

“Come on now, I was only late that one time.” He rustles through the basket of food and grabs a handful of grapes, popping them in his mouth one by one. “Just once.”

Just once.

It was just once that you’d waited in the summer sun after work every day, just once that you’d hurried to close your shop, declined invitations for drinks and dinners with friends in favor of rushing off to the seashore. It was just once that you’d turned down dates with men who didn’t spend their whole lives at sea—men who were well-meaning and kind but profoundly dull, who would never quite measure up to your ephemeral lover. It was just once that you’d wandered down to the beach, day after day, waiting until the sun finally dipped below the horizon, and the wind grew cold and hostile, and the moon rose and joined you in your midnight melancholy.

It was just once that you’d waited there—impatiently, feverishly—until the days grew shorter, and the trees changed their colors, trading brilliant greens for rust and ochre and gold, the leaves dressing themselves in the hues of decay. And then one evening, as your chest ached with fears of things you couldn’t even begin to fathom, and the setting sun illuminated you brilliantly in your hopelessness, there he was. There he was, wandering down the shoreline with a bottle of rum in his hand and remorse written in his features.

“Sorry I’m late, honey,” he’d whispered against your lips as he greeted you, wrapping you in the comfort you’d been craving until you’d had your fill, until you were ready to burst at the seams with . You’d forgiven him quickly, as he offered you apology after apology with his lips and his tongue and his fingers until you were fragile and breathless and had all but forgotten his transgressions. But it was then that you’d made a vow to yourself—you would never let autumn come and allow yourself to still be pining for him, still be waiting like a pet whose master was away.

Never again.

No, you made a vow to yourself that you would only wait for your part-time paramour to arrive while the days were still long and the nights still sweltering, the air thick with humidity and desire. If he ever broke his promise—that promise he’d made on the first year you’d surrendered to his relentless flirtations and let him ravish you there on the beach where you would wait every year after, the promise that he’d always return every summer to enjoy your company again, a promise you never expected him to keep until the following year when he’d wandered into your shop with a sheepish grin on his face and his hand in his pocket, strands of crimson hair falling in his eyes, your name dripping from his lips like honey—that would be the end of it.

That would be the last he’d see of you, you swore it.

“Something on your mind, sweetheart?”

Shanks’ whiskey-smooth voice lingers in the air, nudges you out of your ruminations. You muster a smile and nibble on the edge of a cracker that you apparently had been gripping in your hand. “Just a little distracted is all.”

Shanks tilts his head in that way you’d grown to hate and love—that way that says, without a word, that he knows exactly what you need, that he knows you better than you know yourself.

“Why don’t we skip lunch and take a nice, slow walk back to your place, and I’ll see if I can’t get rid of those pesky distractions.” He grins, and his tongue pokes at the corner of his mouth. “Whaddya say?”

You exhale through your nose, mumbling at him to not be so damned smug about it as you stand and brush the sand from your clothes, already longing for the feeling of his weight on top of you.

**********

The last golden rays of evening filter through your curtains, the distant horizon painted in exquisite shades of fuchsia and violet, and Shanks pulls you tightly against him, your body perfectly slotted under his arm. Your fingertips dance over his chest, running through the sweat-dampened hair that covers his torso, while you place small kisses along his jaw and neck.

“How long will you be here this time?” you ask, syncing your own breathing to the rise and fall of his chest.

He sighs and kisses the crown of your head, a sign of bad news to come. “I can’t stay long. Just a couple more days to get supplies and then we have to head out.”

You hum quietly in reply and drape your arm over his chest. The answer to that question was never what you secretly, shamefully, hoped it to be—you always wished he’d at last declare that he’d be staying, that his days of being a pirate, of being an emperor of the sea, had come to an end and it was your sleepy little island that he wanted to call his new home.

But it was a dream, a fleeting fantasy, to ever think that he would give up a life at sea for the likes of you, for the likes of the ordinary and the mundane. In your most indulgent moments, you imagined a life of quiet routine, of homemade breakfasts enjoyed together on your front porch, of sending each other off to work with a kiss and a wink and a whisper of filthy desires to be fulfilled later that day.

“You gonna miss me when I leave, honey?” he teases as he sits up and leans back against your headboard.

You groan, momentarily annoyed at having to move, before you straddle his lap and slowly move your hips against him, just until you feel him stirring again. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“So that’s a ‘yes,’ then,” he laughs before he leans down and playfully nips at your shoulder.

His laugh is the sound you miss the most, what you hear ringing in your ears when he’s gone—not his deep moans of unabashed pleasure, not the way he whispers you name against your lips, but his laugh, his goddamned laugh. So rich and deep and warm, like a glass of aged whiskey sipped in front of your fireplace, like wrapping yourself in a blanket fresh from the clothesline, heated by the midday sun.

Shanks places a firm hand on your hips to still your movements, and swallows hard as his eyes flit over your face. There is a silence that settles between you, one that starts make you itch a little in anticipation, before he finally murmurs, “You should come with me.”

“Shanks! I—I think I’m a little past my prime, you know? For—for a life of piracy,” you stammer, taken aback by his suggestion. Sure, he’d joked once or twice of tossing you over his shoulder and absconding with you as his concubine, but never like this—never with this tone, this intent, this look of sincerity in his expression.

“Oh come on,” he grins, running his hand down your arm, “stop talking like you’re ancient. And besides, I think you’d love it.”

You raise a suspicious eyebrow, your gaze flitting back and forth between his eyes and mouth, looking for any signs of insincerity and finding none. “You think so?”

“What’s not to love? Someone making your meals for you every day, fresh sea air in your lungs, going to all sorts of places you’ve never been.” He beams and you can almost see the whole of the world in his eyes, all that you could ever dream to see and then some, a vast, uncharted ocean for you to discover. “It’s a big world out there, you know.”

You set your hands on his shoulders, trying to still the sudden tremor that’s gripped you. “And what happens when—when things get dangerous?”

Shanks brings his palm up to your face, strokes your cheek with the rough pad of his thumb. “Well, I’ll be there to keep you safe, of course.”

Of course.

He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world—of course he’ll keep you safe, of course he’ll protect you from the myriad of dangers that await you, of course he’ll protect you once you’re his and his alone.

“And you can guarantee that?” you ask, knowing the answer already.

The corners of his mouth rise briefly in an approximation of a smile. “Nothing’s a guarantee, sweetheart.”

“Even if I said yes—your crew would be okay with this? I barely know them.”

“They’d learn to be okay with it. Besides, you’ll be with me most of the time anyway, you don’t need to worry too much about them.”

“Oh, what, like you’re all I need?” you scoff without thinking.

Shanks slides his hand to the back of your neck, holds your head still, makes you hold his gaze for a moment, then another, then another, until you feel exposed and raw. “You tell me.”

Your mouth opens and closes, words slowly coagulating in your throat and threatening to choke you. It’s all that you’d wanted and more, it’s all that you’d dreamed about for years and years, ever since that first day he’d shown his damned face in your shop, ever since he’d charmed you with that glint of danger in his eyes and a playful grin on his lips. Right now, it’s more than you can handle, and no matter how badly you want to say yes—to blurt it out, to scream it into the evening air, to throw your arms around him and tell him that you’d gladly be his as long he wished—the words never come.

Instead, you blink away the water that forms at your lash-line and clear your throat. “Would you, um—would you go run us a bath?”

Shanks’ smile never falters, no matter how forced you know it must be. He nods and leans forward to kiss your cheek. “Of course.”

You crawl under crisp sheets and watch him saunter into the bathroom, the soft glow of your bedside lamps casting his nude form in shadows, light dancing across the planes of his back and the steely contours of his thighs, highlighting the smooth ripples of muscle beneath warm, bare skin. You could wake up to this every day, if you wanted—you could crawl inside his ribcage and make a home beside his heart, if you wanted. He’d let you, if only you’d say yes.

The sound of rushing water echoes against tile and spills into your room, and it masks the intermittent hiccupping breaths that force their way out of your lungs. It’s too good to be true, it must be. Surely you wouldn’t be happy trapped on a ship with near-strangers—you weren’t built for a life of adventure, of excitement and discovery. No, you were built for a life of comfort. A life of predictability and certainty, of dinner at the same inn every Tuesday night, of regular customers dropping in just to say hello, of soft mattresses and freshly laundered linens, of mundane hobbies and early bedtimes.

Shanks calls your name and gestures for you to join him, a smirk creeping up the corners of his lips that says he isn’t done having his way with you just yet, that a bath is simply an excuse for him to make you whimper and sigh a few more times before you fall into a restless sleep. It will be a welcomed distraction for you both, trading uncertainty and ambiguity for flesh against flesh, for tensing and releasing, for warm afterglows and quiet moments of affection. You settle in between his legs, your hips pressing into his thighs as water laps over the side of the tub and splatters onto the floor. You lean back against his chest, closing your eyes and telling yourself you’ll think about it—you’ll think about his proposition, even if you know the outcome already: you’ll stay.

You’ll stay, and you’ll welcome the passage of time, anxiously awaiting the change of seasons as the afternoons become sweltering and the insects sing when evening comes. You’ll stay, and you’ll meander to the beach, day in and day out, and you’ll run your fingers through sand and keep an anxious eye on the shoreline, waiting for your first glimpse of him returning to you, just as promised.

You will stay. And you will wait.

But only until the first leaf falls.

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buckyownsmylife · 4 days

Text

"Good Boy"

Masterlist here

Word count: 3,200+

Synopsis: Eustass Kid didn't know exactly when it happened, but now he craves to be praised by you. He thrives beneath your words, but the one time you didn't call him a "good boy" has him in a bratty rage.

Themes: mutual pining, kid x gn!reader, fluffy, praise kink Kid, he just wants to be a good boy, no kisses just praise.

Notes: it's past 1am where I am, and I physically couldn't get to sleep until I got this request by @remisloves out of my mind. It's all about praise and softening rough characters lately with me. Good night everyone! Sweet blorbo dreams

Tag list: @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @carrotsunshine

A shudder erupted from the base of Eustass Kid's spine to the top of his cranium. Downturning his chin, he attempted to disguise how wide his smile had risen to his lips beneath the shadow of his blast goggles.

Never one to shy away from a challenge, Captain Kid pushed himself to the absolute limit to best his latest opponent. Blood dripping from his body, his bones bent to the point of nearly breaking. The weight of his metal arm overencumbered his body, his brute strength no longer enough to propel his legs forward.

Successful at last, he claimed their loot in their vast treasury, selecting a few key pieces that caught his eye to present back to you: a former thief, his ships’ appraiser, and now his curator of chronological dialogue, items and routines.

What would possess this hulking captain to risk his body and his crew to collect this small piece of art to present to you? Why would he ever risk such a heavy physical toll for a mere trinket?

Because he was a good boy.

And you always informed him as such.

While Kid saw no need for a chronicler initially, he very quickly warmed to the idea of maintaining one on his payroll. When Massacre Soldier Killer suggested a small snippet of their adventures be cataloged in journals, Kid never knew that reading the words back would prompt a rapid boil beneath his skin. A craving. A need.

Seeing those words scribed on paper held him hostage. Those doting, praising, uplifting words that held such passionate composition regarding his exploits; they pushed him to go further, drive harder, propell longer in his adventures. This was all in an attempt to dream of seeing more of those beautiful words describing him articulated upon paper.

Well, his exploits at least.

Most of all, he craved to hear them depart from your lips. You managed to slip a single verbalized expression of praise once upon his return from doing a menial task. Since then, he was hooked on the rush it brought him.

“Oh, wow! Captain, you've done so well! So unbelievably well!” was that first door opening to the praise he needed.

That small snippet from you, was all well and good in his opinion. He did enjoy your recognition of his talent, but it was not what he craved the most.

And what he wanted the most, was to be told he was, “a good boy.”

He couldn't explain it, but the thought of hearing those words flee from your lips had his eyelids half-hooded, eyes glazed, pupils blackened and blown, and a droopy smile lazily draw itself up onto his lips.

You had only ever come close one time to praising him personally, rather than the talent of his exploits. He felt the flutter of his heart rapidly igniting his veins with adrenaline, screaming with his eyes for you to utter the words he so desperately craved.

And you said it.

You finally said it today.

His feet thumped upon the wooden deck, after he hoisted himself over the small opening on the side of the ship. The ‘away team' had finally assembled together and began greeting those who remained behind.

Rushing to greet your Captain, he shot you a reciprocated, triumphant and winning smile, while happily presenting a small object up to you in the center of his right, flesh hand.

“You found it? You actually found it?” your eyes widened, reaching your hand out to Kid's extended right palm. His body was still dripping with the blood of his enemies, a visible shake in his fingertips as he elevated the trinket up to you.

“It nearly cost me my other arm,” he winced through the words, his forearm beginning to twitch beneath the strain of his exhaustion, “But I brought it back for you-...” he halted his words, pondering whether it was now time to make his affections known or not “...-to add to the collection.”

“For me?” your eyes widened, looking at the shiny and ornate gold filigree design. In the center of the flattened piece lay a single garnet: small, something one would cast aside should more items be presented. But to you, a prized piece in an antique collection you had been dedicating your life to find.

“It's the missing piece, yeah?” Kid smirked, huffing through his words as the rest of the crew assembled atop the Victoria Punk, “The one you told us about last Friday?”

“Honestly, Captain, I don't remember half of what happened last Friday,” you confessed sheepishly, up turning your brows as your fingers brushed against his palm, “You'd think my liver would be able to tolerate being aboard your ship, drinking that slosh alongside the crew by now.”

He barked a cracked cackle at your confession, prompting your own to rise in your chest. His laugh was contagious, a laugh that could be felt through his whole body springing and vibrating up within your own.

“Thank you, captain,” you expressed your deepest gratitude to the taller man, your head nodding in praise, “You don't know what this means to me.”

After a moment's pause, he looked down at the object before bringing his whisky-coloured eyes back up to meet with your own. He inhaled a shaken breath, baited and waiting within his lungs while anticipating his next words.

“S-So,” he stuttered over his words, scolding himself under his own anxiety, “Did I do good? Is this the one you needed? Am I a-...” he didn't want to lead you into giving him the praise he desperately sought, but didn't want to not hear it either.

With all the patience you could muster upon such a triumphant moment in your life, you prompted him with your eyes to have him complete his sentence.

“...Am I a good-...” trying so, so hard to say the final word, he physically couldn't have them pass his lips, “...-Captain?” He mentally slapped himself, knowing that those were not the words he craved and how stupid that must've made him sound.

You took a moment to carefully think about your next words, noticing how bruised he was, how bloody his knuckles were, how a lot of the crew that went with him on this private ‘away mission' were faring upon return.

“Of course you are. You captain us extremely well, sir,” you uttered with a soft smile, “I'll adjust my findings accordingly in the journals, if I may be excused?”

A small puff of air flew from his lips, defeat almost tangibly thick as it shrouded his shoulders with its presence. He looked away after giving his nod of dismissal, his gaze fixed on the wood of the deck below his feet.

Your smile widened, claiming the object from his palm and holding your hand within his for a moment longer, before withdrawing completely. Fluttering your eyes over each fixed point of concern on his features, you searched for what his body seemed to be screaming for.

Thanking him with a curt nod, you turned on your heel and abruptly halted your next step.

At this moment, it fully dawned on you exactly the words your Captain wanted to hear. Eustass Kid, captain of the Kid pirates, champion and leader of the Victoria punk, devil-fruit user and wielder of Haki… had a praise kink. And he wanted you to praise him.

A playful smile spread like warm honey up your cheeks, a scrunch in your nose as you rolled your next words over your tongue. You turned your head over your shoulder, guarding your intentions close to your chest as you spoke two words that almost had your Captain fall on his knees in gratitude.

“Good boy.”

From that moment on, he was simply smitten. No matter what he did, whether it was aiding his crew with carrying supplies, carrying out great acts of violence, defending his Nakama from their enemies, or simply finishing his vegetables at meal time - he would look to you in anticipation, that anticipation being met with those two simple words.

“Good boy.”

They echoed within his mind, swirling around within the chasms of his brain as slumber eluded him. He did not mind in the slightest having his lack of rest consumed with praises departing from your lips.

Your voice plagued him, haunted him as a spectral ghost would hunt down their unfinished business. He did not mind such a haunting, in fact: he wanted more. He wanted to have more praise, more compliments, more of your verbal, beautiful words crying out from your perfect lips.

He was smitten, completely smitten, by your compliments. The way your talented tongue made his name sound, the way your lips curved up in a knowing smirk each time you told him he was a ‘good boy.’

Until the day you didn't.

Eustass Kid was in a foul mood, one that nobody knew the cause nor the cure for such a horrid, stampeding mess of a captain. Food, ales, meads, even gold - nothing appeared to pry him from his raging temper. Breaking tankards, tipping over tables, scattering documents on his captains’ desk, nothing was safe from the wrath he was wreaking on the furniture.

Hunched over your desk, you continued cataloging and appraising the latest haul of trinkets and treasures thrust into your office. It was overwhelming for you, the sheer number of items scattered around your room. You attempted to alphabetize them, sort them accordingly and lump them into itemized piles.

The toll the elevation of work raised onto your shoulders had you dismiss all those who presented you with various finds, including your Captain. He rocked on the ball and heels of his feet, eagerly awaiting and anticipating his sought-after praise - but found nothing but an anxious sigh and scratch of your neck in response to his hard labor.

This was the reason for his intense rage.

After leaving your office, and selfishly paying no mind to your exhausted expression, he began to spiral.

“He was so good. Why didn't you tell him he was? Was there something he could've done better? Something he could've pushed harder to strive for?” all circled within his mind as he tore piece after piece of his office apart.

Several hours had passed, and you carved a hefty chunk of your work apart and managed to get a fair bit done. It was nowhere near complete, but it had you feeling a sense of anxious accomplishment.

A knock at the door prompted you to raise your chin, eyes panicked and overwhelmed with the amount of work still required to be completed before mealtime.

“Need help?” The light flickered off the cerulean and pearl colored mask of the first mate, who peeked his head around the doorframe.

“Please,” you sighed, gesturing to your position kneeling on the ground beside you. Killer promptly entered your office, crouching beside you and sifting through the uncharted treasures still needing to be sorted.

“What we up to?” he elevated his hand, gesturing out to the various piles in front of you both, “I think I see where they need to go. You written down them all?”

“All recorded in the book, down to the last drooped earpiece,” you confirmed, nodding to the mess in the center of the room, “They just need to be put in the right piles, locked in the treasury, and then we can call it a night. Maybe have an ale, if you're up for it, Kil?”

After a moment's pause, both of you rolling the items in your fingertips and placing them within the according: gold, silver, platinum, gemstone, raw material, ceramic, wearable materials, and weaponry piles.

“Leave this with me,” Killer uttered, placing a throwing knife within the weaponry stack, “And you go and perform your other job.”

“What other job?” your brows knit with confusion, “I've already done the journalling of the exploits, the timetabling of the crew shift-changes, notarizing the stock we need within the kitchen-.”

“-Oh, no, buckaroo,” you could audibly hear the smirk behind Killer's mask as he teased you, “the other one. The one nobody pays you to do.”

“Which is, champ?” you taunted in return, nudging him with your shoulder roughly against his, “Be specific.”

“The one where you-...” he took this brief pause as an opportunity to sigh in huffed frustration, “...-where you tell our captain he's a good boy. Although, in his current state,” Killer rotated his neck to relieve the tension on his shoulders, “I might even go so far as to suggest you call him a bad one, considering that's exactly how he's behaving.”

Your confusion knit your brow down in the center of your face, your mind focussing on when the last time you praised the puppy you had turned your Captain into.

“Oh, fuck! I didn't praise him when he brought in the loot!” your eyes widened in shock, promptly rising to your feet and brushing over your pants, “I just got so overwhelmed by the sheer bloody number, I couldn't think of anything else. Oh, I'm an idiot.”

“You're not an idiot,” Killer interrupted you, rising to his own feet and cupping your shoulders in an attempt to halt the rise in your anxiety, “Hell, you're not even dating him. It shouldn't be your job-,” he brushed over your shirt, adjusting the crumpled material to make it more appealing to the eye.

“-Yet here you are,” he concluded, nodding at you before glancing down at the piles of treasure, “And here I am: the first-mate, the best friend, the confidant. The one who is unable to tear him away from his absolutely shit-house mood, because all he wants is you.”

You attempted to stifle the warm flush that drew itself up to your cheeks. Captain Kid was a tall, broad and intimidating man - those were the three assessments you initially made when you were hired to serve aboard the Victoria Punk. Then you got to know him, and were made privy to truly see who he was beneath the surface.

The twinkle behind the feral rage, the purity in his unbridled emotions, the lack of restraint in all his advances: you adored him. When he began to seek out your praises, you were immediately swooning at his attention.

He wanted your words, not just due to the fact words were your job, but because he wanted you to speak them. Just to speak his praises to be granted the luxury of a light tingle in his ears, a blush rise to his cheeks and a smile decorating his lips with such beautiful words.

Now within the doorframe of your captain's office, you arched your brow and crossed your arms. Leaning on the wooden panel, you continued to watch his chest rise and fall with each exasperated and berzerk breath. Your eyes never left his body, each arch of his back and ripple of his muscles straining under the taut fabrics atop his shoulders.

“All this because I didn't call you a good boy?” you addressed him in a low and dangerous tone. His feral eyes snapped over to you, widening as he truly witnessed the devastation in the destruction in his office.

“You've been a bad boy, I see,” you continued in your dark tone, promptly stepping into his office and closing the door behind you, “Look at all this mess. Tsk, naughty.”

The click of your tongue had Kid arching his back, straightening his spine as he bit back a soft whimper. His brows triangulated in the center of his face, bottom lip now quivering under the weight of your disciplinary tone.

Circling his body, fingers brushing against his large right hand beside his hip as you leaned into him. You shook your head, stooping down and beginning to collect the paper, stationary, tankards, and paperweights that had been flung against the floor.

Before you could say a following, disciplinary word, Kid immediately fell onto his knees and began hurriedly picking up the items he threw onto the ground beside you.

“I-I’ll pick it all up,” he nodded his head as to confirm his words further, “I'll tidy up all this shit. Please, I-I’m sorry. I just-.”

“-Just wanted to be praised, hm?” you hummed at him. He hid his head from view, his painted lips pouting while his eyes held their attention firmly against the mess.

He nodded, the weight of finally admitting his craving lifting off his chest and shoulders as he received the items you were holding atop the stack he was forming.

“Tidy up your mess, handsome,” you smiled, elevating your right hand to capture his pointed chin within your thumb and index finger, “I'll watch every step you take, and let you know how good you're being, if you do it properly.”

Kid’s breath caught in his lungs, a pink dust settled against his cheeks and ears. He hurriedly rose to his feet, up-turning his askew desk and dusting off his captains’ chair. He extended it outwards, wordlessly and politely gesturing for you to take a seat.

“My, my,” you commented, rising to your feet and accepting his invitation, “Such a gentleman, you're being. But, you've gotta’ work a little bit harder to earn that title you crave.”

Captain Eustass Kid was a dutiful, whimpering puppy under your watchful eyes. He was, almost, happily rearranging all of the objects he had thrown askew. He even took the time to appropriately categorize the pages he didn't complete prior to his little tantrum.

“Hm, very good. Well done picking up after yourself.” He blushed further at your words, but craved so much more.

“Oh, look at how much time you're taking on that bookshelf. I can even see how clean you're making each of the panels. Look at you go, big boy.” That praise had him whimpering, his eyes fluttering shut as he continued to clean in silence.

“So strong, picking up that heavy weight all by yourself. So proud of you.” He could not stop the audible gasp, nor the rush of blood seeping to places they had no business in flooding to at that moment.

He completed all this while glancing over his shoulder and thriving beneath the giddy feeling rushing to his chest upon being the center of your unwavering gaze.

Upon the last paperweight being placed and straightened atop his desk, he knelt between your knees and glanced up into your eyes. He looked innocent of all wrongdoing, all prior anger and malice fleeing from within his silent pleading.

He was desperate for those words, those two simple little words that he so yearned for. Noseying up further between your knees, his shuddering metal and flesh hands cautiously placed themselves gently on your calves.

Soft and slow circles were traced against your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as they began twinkling with hope. All his mind was screaming, silently and internally, was a simple repetition of: “Please, please, please. Say it, say it, say it.”

And you obliged him by leaning down, caressing his left, scarred cheek and drawing your lips close enough to taste the tingle of his breath upon your skin. Hovering before contact was made, you floated your gaze between his whisky-hued orbs and his parted lips with a soft smile.

“Good boy.”

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