Roronoa Zoro X Gn!reader

Mission Impossible

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Word count: 33k

Fluff | Smut

Rosita embarks on mission impossible, and it results in Daryl almost getting into a fistfight at a bonfire.

or

Jealous Daryl. Protective Daryl. Lowkey possessive Daryl (my toxic trait is that I love this trope). What more could you want?

He wonders, for a second, if you forgot about him.

Though, Daryl hasn’t put himself in a position to be noticed by you quite yet. He’s standing by the doorway as he watches you take care of your day-to-day monotonies; admiring you, that’s what Rick would call it - makin’ eyes if Merle was here - and maybe they’re right, but he can’t tear his gaze away.

Pen between fingers, your tongue flicks out to wet your lips, eyebrows attempting to meet as you scrunch them confused. You’re not writing anything, he notices, and your non-dominant hand rises from the edge of the textbook to trace along the sentence you’re seemingly trying to comprehend. It’s simple, the movements are nothing groundbreaking - nothing particularly eye-catching - but it’s moments like these when Daryl feels a particular dull gnaw of longing.

He can’t call it a longing of his old life - not when all he remembers is drifting, an asshole redneck with an even bigger asshole for a brother - but of the old world, he guesses. One of them, at least. A kinder one to both you and him.  

One where he met you and wooed you through Black Sabbath concerts. Or one where you’re both younger - where he’d try and help you through your exams even though he’s about as dumb as a bag of rocks if you’d showed him just a page of whatever you were studying. Just… one where Daryl didn’t have to visit you every few days about some stitches threatening to pop off his skin or about how a fractured rib is healing up.

Shaking the thoughts away, he runs a hand through his hair and takes a step forward. Then another and another, clunky boots not making a single noise as he closes the gap between your doorway and your desk. He raises an eyebrow when you don’t seem to acknowledge him though he’s standing just a few inches from you, and he bites the inside of his bottom lip when he hears you sigh.

“Everythin’ okay?”

His voice breaks your concentration and your head lifts rather abruptly to him, the usual blankness of his expression morphing into an upwards tug of his lips when yours breaks out into a smile. Ever since Carol told him that you only smile like that when you see him, Daryl can’t stop wondering if she’s right. It makes his heart scramble for balance, but he never finds it - can never find it when he’s around you - and he doesn’t even really know if he wants to.

“Every word in here’s like fifteen letters long.”

Putting down your pen, you lean back and rub at your eyes, the action much too cute for his poor heart to take, and he thinks he may crumble into the ground if he keeps looking. Though, his eyes stick onto you, months of stolen glances forming a habit he can’t quite break yet. When he knows you can’t see him - when he knows you’re not going to catch him staring - he can’t help but to.

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so are we just gonna act like milo and morbius didn’t almost make out like 10 times

Sony doesn't realize that the gay romance main plot of venom was what made it successful. Morbius doesn't have that.

It's not enough to just be a villain of Spiderman's.

You must have the pure, sizzling, compelling homoeroticism of being in love with what makes you evil.

What makes you go feral.

Without it, no dice.

Hi !!! Just found your blog recently- absolutely love how you write the comfort pirates :< !!🫶 if you’re open to requests (if not, pls ignore!! It’s not a need ^_^) would it be okay for strawhat and/or heart pirates (you chose which characters! Doesn’t have to be all) headcannons with a reader who losses their emotional support stuffie?

It’s not a big plush, a small one that could fit in your pocket- something simple and easy to hold or squeeze, but when they lose it they get kinda anxious :( they try to hide it from the crew tho, it’s pretty childish heh.. (and if it is, again no need to write agshdjfk)

Thank you!! Keep up the great work, and take care of yourself! Have a great night/day <3

thank you! you're so sweet <3 this idea sounds SO cute, i was definitely excited to write this one! I'm so sorry for the long wait, my laptop crashed and needs to be repaired so I'm doing all my requests on my phone which takes so much longer :(

taglist - @kabloswrld

plushie (Straw Hats + Law)

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - none

ZORO

You panic, the anxiety of losing your comfort plushie too much for you to handle.

But you won't go to Zoro or anyone else for help, thinking that they'll just make fun of you.

Especially Zoro, he can be quite mean even unintentionally.

So you search all over the ship yourself, worry and fear steadily increasing.

You hoped and prayed no one else found it before you, because surely they would laugh at you and tease you to no end.

"Babe what are you looking for?" Zoro grumbles after a few hours of you refusing to cuddle him in favour of searching for your plushie. "And why is it so important?"

It helped you cope. With stress, with anxiety, with any problem you faced. It was comforting, and it relaxed you. Keeping it close made you feel secure, safe and sound. But you didn't tell him that.

You tried not to look too desperate, or else the others might ask you as well.

"This what you looking for?"

You almost died on the spot when you turned around to see your boyfriend holding your plushie up, a huge grin on his face.

"Zoro-"

"It's kind of cute, actually," he studied it. "But you have me, you know that right?"

You sighed and explained that this plushie was for when he was training, and you tried to get him to swear not to tell anyone but...

Zoro is a menace so he tells everyone.

SANJI

You know Sanji would not make fun of you for it, in fact he would probably think it's cute and compliment you and the plushie non-stop, but you still didn't tell him.

His compliments, although good-natured, would make you feel like a child, and you didn't want that embarrassment.

But searching for your plushie isn't easy, because the Sunny is huge.

So staying inconspicuous while looking for your comfort source is quite difficult, and there are moments when Sanji does suspect you're acting weirdly but you try to avoid him when he starts staring.

"Are you okay, my love?" He asks you every fifteen minutes, his concern growing by the second.

You laugh it off nervously, "Yes, love! Just making sure everything is clean."

At that point everyone knows something is off because who other than Franky and Usopp worries about the Sunny THAT much?

Eventually Sanji finds the plushie, but he's a bit confused. Is this what you're looking for?

To save you what he assumes would be embarrassment, since you haven't shown it to him before, he keeps it in your shared room and plans to ask you about it later.

When you don't find it by the end of the day, you feel like you want to cry. Your emotional support...gone. Just like that.

You don't expect to walk into your room and find Sanji sitting on your shared bed studying it curiously.

"Sanji," your eyes go wide, "Where did you find that?"

He looked up at you and smiled, "Under the bed! Is this what you've been looking for, my love? It's as cute as you are!"

You blush MADLY, walking over tentatively, "Please don't tell the others. They'll only laugh."

"I promise it's our secret," he grinned, then gave it back to you. "But love, you know you can come to me for anything, right?"

You smiled and nodded, kissing his cheek, relieved to have your plushie back with only one crewmember in the know.

LUFFY

You don't tell Luffy about your plushie because you're afraid he might steal it.

He's just childish in general, so you only worried about the others finding out.

When you lose it, you panic immediately thinking Luffy found it and took it.

Your anxiety worsened when you realised he might show it to the crew, because he hides absolutely nothing from everyone.

You can't ask him though...in fear of him not actually having it and then finding out.

Luffy doesn't notice your frantic searching, because of course he's too oblivious to.

You search every nook and cranny of the Sunny, dejection settling in when you still couldn't find it.

That is, until you walked in on Luffy holding it up while in the kitchen, and you thanked God that no one was around.

"Luffy!" You quickly grab it from him and cradle it against your chest protectively, glaring at him instinctively.

He pouted, "But it's cute! Tell me what it is, (Name), because it's almost as cute as you!"

You blushed, but told him anyway, "It's my emotional support plushie. But you can't tell anyone, Luffy!"

"But why do you need it? You have me!" He cheefully stated, theb frowned, "Why can't I tell anybody?"

"Because they will all laugh!"

He pouted more and agreed to not tell anyone.

You should have known better. He told everyone.

"LUFFY!"

LAW

Law already knows, sorry.

There is literally nothing you can keep hidden from this man.

But he pretends not to know, because he doesn't want to intrude on your privacy and he knows that if you wanted to tell him then you would have.

He also notices when you lose it and start searching the submarine whenever you could without arousing suspicion.

Bepo, Shachi and Penguin were nice but you knew the latter two would make fun of you.

"Are you okay, (Name)-ya?" Law's concerned voice startles you in the middle of turning your shared room upside-down in your desperate search.

You freeze, your eyes going wide, "Law-"

"You can tell me what you're looking for," he encouraged, "You can tell me anything, you know that."

You sighed and bit your lip, "Okay, it's this small, palm-sized plushie I use for comfort...I know it's childish-"

Law stopped you by holding something up - the plushie in question.

Your eyes widened, "Where did you- how- Thanks babe!" You smiled wide and reached for it, taking it gratefully and squeezing it to calm your nerves. "But can you please-"

"I won't say a word to anyone," he promised, sighing as he brought you close and wrapped his arms around you. "I know I'm not around as often as you'd like, but you still have me. You can still come to me. Okay?"

You smiled and nodded, "Okay."

"Good," he smiled and kissed the top of your head. "You're cute you know that? Cuter than that stuffed animal."

USOPP

Usopp, bless him, is the one who found your plushie before anyone else did.

But, curse him, he decided to withhold it until you asked for help finding it, because he sees how distraught you are and doesn't like it.

And he's sad that you don't trust him enough to tell him about it and that you don't trust him to have a mature reaction.

You look all over the Sunny, trying to be discreet so that no one asked you about what you were looking for.

And then you noticed the weird, hurt looks that your boyfriend was giving you, which made you frown.

Were you neglecting him in your search- no time for that, you had to find your plushie before someone else on the crew did, an outcome you dreaded most.

A few hours later, you were on the cusp of just giving up and sobbing, until Usopp walked up to you and handed your plushie to you.

"Usopp-"

"You could have told me," he frowned, "I would never make fun of you."

He started to walk away, but you stopped him.

"I know, I'm sorry," you sighed. "I just thought that it's so childish, I was too embarrassed to say anything."

"Well you shouldn't have been embarrassed cause it's not childish," he grinned, "It's actually cute and...oddly comforting."

"Right!" You smiled. "So you won't tell anyone?"

"Of course not! What do you take me for? I'm not Luffy!"

"Thanks babe."

Baby Blue - Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Geto

Warnings: Explicit smut, noncon/rape, threesome/double penetration, unhealthy relationships/manipulation

Word Count: 16,216

Ah, there’s nothing like traveling and family to kill inspiration. Regardless, here it is, as promised

//

Sweat trickled down the middle of your spine, curving with the arch of your perfectly upright posture. Your hands, neatly folded in your lap, weren’t shaking, but the stark white of your knuckles was telling enough of the anxiety keeping your body almost exhaustingly stiff.

This was why you didn’t put yourself out there. This was why you were careful, measuring the risk and reward of your actions before acting impulsively. This was the consequence and nothing you felt—fear, discomfort, uncertainty, betrayal—was as potent as the regret. You had a feeling when you showed up at Satoru Gojo’s door with lingerie under your dress and butterflies going wild in your stomach that something was wrong but you told yourself it was just nerves. After all, firsts were important and you’d been putting off your first with your boyfriend for longer than you thought he’d have the patience for. You weren’t trying to be rude, or to intrude. You were trying to surprise him because you knew Satoru liked surprises. But the door was open, that wasn’t your fault. The intentions you had going in weren’t morally good, but they certainly weren’t insidious, you weren’t trying to spy on Satoru or anything. It was by complete accident and horrible happenstance that you caught a glimpse of the guest he had over.

And after that, intentions didn’t matter. You had officially seen too much.

In a way, you might have rathered he was just cheating on you. That would hurt, but it wouldn’t be entirely out of character. You would cry and burn the various stupid souvenir trinkets he brought back for you and complain to your friends over a bottle of wine or five, but that would be it. Instead, Satoru greeted your intrusion with only a second of displeasure before it melted into knowing delight, enthusing about the wonderful surprise and ushering you to come in with his normal energy. Now you were stuck between two of the strongest sorcerers in the world. Well, Suguru Geto was no longer a jujutsu sorcerer, even if that was how you remembered him. Now he was a criminal, a curse user, a genuine villain, and, most importantly, Satoru Gojo’s arch enemy.

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Merchandise Guide!

I think, as time Passes And I experience a wave of new items I must address, that I will do so accordingly and place them up for others to see! (I Am very new to this, So Please Bare with me!) But for those inquiring about this, I will address it as follows! Please do NOT BUY or SELL anything with Welcome Home's name attached in any way, NOR any of its characters, (Wally Darling, Frank Frankly, Home, etc!) I presently am not involved with ANYONE in regards to merchandise at this moment in time. I need to organize my side of things at the moment, until then I do not have plans for merchandise! Please respect my copyright and the pace at which I must currently sustain.

If you have found skins for sale on websites such as Roblox or VR, they are unauthorized and I will work on removing them at my own pace. I do not mind if models or skins are made, as long as they are given away freely to others and are not sold.

My Fan Merch policy may change as I actually begin creating Welcome Home, but at this moment in time I ask for you NOT to sell or buy merchandise of Welcome Home on places like Etsy, RedBubble, conventions, etc. I will work on removing them at my own pace. (I am very sorry to do this, but to see folks so quickly move to profit off of my work is very strange.) Even if it is for yourself on larger sticker or shirt websites, please make it yourself and do not have it listed publicly to be sold and bought by others.

Please do not sell images or characters that have Welcome Home attached to their inspiration (I only ask that you remove the title, 'Welcome Home!' I don't mind that they are inspired, but Welcome Home is very important to me, please do not attach it to your work to sell characters!)

Also if you are a company (Similarly to the likes of Hot Topic, you know) You may NOT sell Welcome Home Merchandise of any kind. Again, I am not involved with anyone at the moment in regards to merchandise, please respect the pace at which I handle this newfound workload.

HOWEVER, I think I am fine if you commission One-off pieces from other artist. (Small plushes, tattoo designs, crotchet works, etc!) As long as they are not sold in mass supply or advertised as such! I also don't mind if you make it for yourself or your friends, too! Or even make it for yourself! Thank you all for respecting my restrictions and time!

lord take away all of megan thee stallion’s pain and please give it to biden

i'm here for you. [ fushiguro megumi x reader ]

✾ warnings: lowkey existential topics/themes of self doubt, hurt/comfort

✾ synopsis: overwhelmed by everything, you take refuge in fushiguro megumi's room for a while. he knows you, though, and you can't hide from him in his own room.

✾ notes: part of a small series called "comfort" <3 check out the other characters' versions from the links below ! feel free to request a character i haven't done ^^

♡ comfort - a short series of drabbles: itadori yuuji, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuta

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

"what's up?" fushiguro asks.

it's been a while now, since you decided to sneak into his room and hide under his covers. at first, he thought you were just tired, and came to take a nap away from the noise of everything else.

as the minutes passed, it became evident this was not the case. he could hear you shuffling about; restless, and definitely not asleep.

"mmffh," comes your muffled reply.

fushiguro sighs, and you feel the bed dipping with his weight as he sits down next to you.

"fine. we don't have to talk." he pulls you, wrapped in his duvet like a huge burrito, into his arms and holds you. you wriggle in protest, but his embrace is firm.

soon, you give in and flop against his arms. you then poke your head out and look into fushiguro's deep blue eyes, as if contemplating something.

despite the nearly irresistible urge to kiss you, he waits.

"hi." you decide to say, giving him a small smile. he returns it softly.

"do you feel like talking? i could just hold you for a while if you don't." he offers.

you'd initially thought you were doing a pretty good job of hiding that something was off, but it appears the act wasn't enough to fool fushiguro. you don't know how he does it, but you're silently grateful for his observant nature.

"let's talk." you say. you close your eyes and take a deep breath. "everything happens very fast."

"what do you mean by that?"

"hmmm... exactly what i said, i think." you ponder for a moment. "you could be perfectly okay one day and then the next day, something happens and there are consequences and suddenly, nothing's the same anymore."

"that's just the way life is, bubs." fushiguro caresses your head gently.

"knowing that doesn't make it any easier, though." you counter. "there are just, you know, times where i feel like i'm stuck in a little glass box, watching everything and everyone around me.

and then some days, everyone is moving and everything is going and i'm still trapped in my little box, watching everyone's backs until they become little black dots." you take a shaky breath.

"i'm being left behind."

fushiguro's eyebrows furrow a little at this. nevertheless, he doesn't say anything and hugs you a little closer to him, prompting you to go on.

"i know i have no one to blame but myself, because i probably built that box myself. i... i don't know how to get out without hurting myself." you finish with an exhale.

fushiguro waits a beat before starting. "do you think you could tell me when you feel like that? we could have a little code, or a safe word." he kisses your forehead.

"i don't want you to go through that alone, i'm here if you need me. it's like, if i'm walking a little too fast you could always tug at my sleeve a little to let me know to slow down, you know?

and i will. i'll wait for you. we'll even figure out how to leave that box behind, okay? i'm here for you."

SO DAMN CUTE

character/s: jean kirstein x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: jean shows you just how cute he thinks you are

WARNINGS: 18+/mdni, softdom!jean for the win (y'all i love him), oral (m receiving, talk of f receiving), fingering, dirty talk (mans doesn't stfu), heavy praise kink, female pronouns are used and reader is explicitly called a girl at some point, lemme know if i missed anything

A/N: this started out super fluff and then turned out really smut. :)

"You're gonna laugh at me," you hide your face from him, avoiding the incredulous look on his own. The only other person you had told this too was Sasha, and she was the idiot that convinced you to talk to Jean about it, for whatever goddamn reason. Sure, he was your friend, but he was also a guy, and that made this whole topic so much more embarrassing for some reason.

"When have I ever laughed at your problems?" You give him a look and he opens his mouth, "Ok, let me rephrase that. When have I ever laughed at your serious problems? Wait let me rephrase that-"

"This is why I didn't wanna talk to you about this! See, I told Sasha-"

"You told Sasha and not me? Wow, ok, I see where I rank in terms of friends. Second only to Sasha."

"No, it goes Sasha, Connie-"

"You put Connie before me? I want you out of my house."

"-Eren-"

"Jaeger?! Get fucked."

"That's actually the issue, I can't."

Jean went wide eyed and silent for just a moment. "Wow, what a transition." You shove him back as he chuckles at the embarrassed look on your face.

"Stop, Jean!" But he doesn't. He keeps poking fun at you because it's cute how flustered it makes you to talk about anything even mildly inappropriate. He likes the whiny little voice you have when you tell him to 'stop talking like that.' "You know, I came to you in confidence to share something that makes me really self conscious and you just wanna be a bitch."

"Ok, fine," he smirks, "I'm sorry. What did you wanna share with me?"

You avoid his eyes again and try to work up the courage to share with him what's really bothering you. "You know how I went out with that guy the other week and told you guys I just wasn't feeling it so I stopped talking to him?"

Jean shook his head and barely managed not to roll his eyes. He remembered how glad he was when you stopped talking to that dude. It was some guy from one of the classes you had together and he was honestly shocked you'd even gone for someone like him. Jean didn't wanna admit it, but he was a little peeved that you'd blown off the weekly movie night you, Connie, Sasha, and he always had just to go out with some jock who could barely pass an intro class. And he didn't know why, but it really bugged him when Sasha kept making comments about how jealous she was that you were out getting dicked down and she was stuck with 'you two (derogatory).' He'd chalked it up to just being upset that you blew off your friends for some dude and didn't think much else of it.

"Ok, well, I lied."

"What? You're still talking to that fucking idiot?"

"No!" Your answer made Jean sigh in exasperated relief. "He stopped talking to me."

"Oh..." Jean didn't know exactly what to say to that. Or why you felt the need to tell him the details of what happened. You didn't owe him an explanation or anything. In fact, it really wasn't any of his business. But, hell, if you were offering up the information. "Did he say why?"

"Yeah, um," you pulled your legs up to your chest, "well, we were kissing and stuff and then he kinda put his hand down my pants-"

"Oh my fucking god, I really don't need to know this."

"Jean, you said you would listen!"

"Yeah, I thought it was gonna be something like you were failing calculus. I didn't expect you to explain to me the details of one of my best friend's getting finger fucked in the back of some douchebag's Prius!"

"Bold of you to assume I would ever let a man in a Prius put his finger near my lady parts."

"You did not just say lady parts."

"Jean, be serious!"

"How am I supposed to be serious while talking about your pussy?"

"Ew! Jean!" You hit him square in the chest. You loved Jean, but he was anything but serious when you needed him to be. He stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue. "I didn't expect it to go that far and well I didn't exactly plan my outfit accordingly."

"Plan your outfit accordingly? Meaning?" He just looked at you until it was like a little lightbulb going off in his head and suddenly he was nonstop laughing. "Tell me you wore granny panties!"

You glared at him with the ferocity of a kitten. "I didn't know he was gonna do that! And he laughed when he saw-"

"Wait, he laughed?" Jean stopped. You pointed out that he himself was just laughing at the matter, but he silenced you. "No, I'm allowed to laugh at you because I'm your best friend."

"Sasha is my best friend."

"You can lie to yourself all you want, but there's a single person in this world who knows about that one time you used Connie's toothbrush instead of your own because you didn't want to turn the light on in the bathroom, and it sure as shit isn't Sasha."

"I regret telling you that."

"I digress." Jean narrows his eyes at the idea of some guy laughing at you when he should be counting his blessings for even being in the same room as you. "So, what? He ghosted you because you wore normal looking underwear?"

"No, no, that's not why he stopped talking to me." You took a deep breath, trying not to stress at the idea of talking about it openly. "We stopped after that. And then the rest of the night was just kind of awkward. I thought maybe I was just over thinking things, but when I mentioned a second date he brushed it off. Just said that I wasn't the type of girl he was into and that he didn't wanna get my hopes up."

Jean's face turned sour at the utter stupidity of that statement. You? Not someone's type? Hot? Funny? Single? How was that not someone's type?

"It's not the first time someone's told me that. Apparently, I'm cute. But I'm not very sexy, so..."

"What the fuck did he think wasn't sexy about you? Seriously, I'd like to know so I can make sense of the bullshit he's spewing."

You shrugged. "Like the way I dress and talk. And I don't know, like how I kiss or something."

"How you kiss? Who gets turned off by a cute girl kissing them?"

"I don't know. That's what he said."

"Show me."

You wonder if you heard him correctly. But when you look at him, his face is deadly serious. "Show you?"

"Show me how you kissed him?"

"I'm not gonna kiss you to show you what he meant by that, Jean!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby." He teased. It was to get a rise out of you, to bait you into it, and it was working. "What are you? Scared I'm gonna think you're just too cute."

"You're a jerk."

He leans closer and smirks at you, a stupid little grin you've seen one too many times when he gets overly-flirty. "Then I'm exactly your type." You narrow your eyes at him. "Oh, c'mon. I just wanna know what he meant by your kissing being cute. What's the worst that could happen? It'll be our little secret. Yet another one to add to the list, right under you using Connie's toothbrush-"

It's to get him to shut up. Or at least that's what you tell yourself. Your hands grip his face and drag him closer, pulling his lips down to meet yours. You start off soft and slow, pulling at his bottom lip and running your thumb against his jaw line. A little whine comes from the back of your throat and Jean gets it. It's a sweet kiss. One that draws him in over and over, forcing him to chase your lips every time they slightly break from yours. Jean can feel his head getting fuzzy, like his brain had stopped working at the feel of your sweet little mouth. It's a feeling that flows all the way down into the pit of his stomach, where he it feels like fucking butterflies are reigning hell on his insides, and god he hasn't felt this way since the first time he ever kissed a girl way back in high school, back when he was afraid he was doing it all wrong and his hands would grow sweaty and he'd have to think about the grossest shit just to stop himself from getting a hard- oh, fuck.

You're pulling away all too soon, it's almost pathetic the way that Jean's lips chase after yours, his nose bumping against yours as he leans his forehead against your own.

"Well?" You ask breathlessly and a little worried.

Jean's eyes are half-lidded, his breathing a little ragged, and his eyes dart from your eyes to your lips and back again. Like he's contemplating. "Did-did you not use tongue?"

"No, I mean I did but like just a little,"

"Show me." And his mouth is hot against yours again, his body pushing against you until your back is against his bed. And your tongue drags against his bottom lip and he's so eager to let you in and let you have all of him. No, Jean gets it alright. It's the little sounds you make when his hand moves up your thigh and his mouth trails a path down your neck and towards your chest, and fuck, you're just so cute. He gets it. What he doesn't get is how someone doesn't find it so fucking hot when you squirm and mewl and whimper his name like it's some kind of saving grace. It takes everything in him to exercise the smallest bit of constraint, but he does so as his fingers brush against the line of your underwear. "Gonna sound this cute with my fingers in your pussy?"

You moan at the feel of his breath against your ear and shake your head incessantly.

"Yeah? Such a good girl." His fingers push pass the cotton material where they immediately seek out and circle your clit. He was right, you sound cute as shit, bet you looked like it too. It's that thought that makes his other hand seek out the back of your head, pulling at your hair to make you stare back at him. His thumb keeps a steady pace on your clit as he pushes two fingers deep in your cunt. "Look at me while I make you feel good. Wanna see that cute little face when I make you cum."

He can feel your pussy clench every time he says something you like. "I'll make you cum all over my tongue later. Right now, wanna see your face." Like now, that and the slight hitch in your voice tells him he's doing everything right. That you like his fingers being stuffed inside you while his thumb gives your clit all the attention it deserves. "Like that? Don't worry baby, I'll let you ride my face later until your legs are shaking and I can't fucking breath."

Your legs fall further apart, giving him more room to maneuver. He has to keep himself from grinding against your leg to relieve some of the built up pressure in his cock. He felt like a dog in fucking heat.

"Need you to cum for me, pretty girl, let me see those eyes." You struggle to keep your eyes open and on his as the pressure builds in your lower stomach. "There you go, baby. Make me proud, cum all over my fingers. Give me something to taste."

You grip his arms just to have something to hold onto and desperately try to keep your eyes open as your breathing becomes unstable and your orgasm peaks but Jean doesn't let up. He talks your through it, his words sweeter than his fingers that try and pull another orgasm from you right after the other. "Good fucking girl, did so good for me." Tears start to build as you push his hands away and whimper too much. Only when the tears fall from your eyes does Jean stop, cooing at you. "So proud of you." He brings his fingers up to his mouth and slurps. "Cute little pussy tastes like a dream."

He can't help but kiss you again. This time it's rushed and frantic, like he can't get enough. You push up against him, trying to turn his body so you can climb on top of him, until finally he gets the hint and lets you. "Wanna make you feel good too." You start to pull his sweatpants down and lower your head.

Jean's eyes go wide. He doesn't want to push his luck but you'd both gone this far. And what kind of idiot would he be to say no to you? Yeah, ok, so maybe Jean was starting to realize why he'd been so upset about going out with some other guy. And maybe it wasn't just because you'd blown off your friends, but because you'd technically blown off him. Maybe if you'd done this a long time ago you wouldn't have to worry about that asshat that thought you were too cute to be sexy, because Jean thought it was sexy as fuck how cute you were.

He's brought back to reality when he feels your hand wrap around his cock. His breath catches in his throat. You like the way his eyes squeeze shut and he looks like he's struggling to compose himself. "Can I put you in my mouth?"

"Fuck yes." He really tries not to grab your head and rail his cock into your mouth but it's so hard when your mouth is just so warm and your tongue feels so good against it. His hips move on their own accord, his movements rough but his words so soft. "Gonna make me cum just from that sweet little mouth of yours. Just like that, sweet girl. Love your fucking mouth, love that cute fucking mouth. Taking me so fucking well. Gonna let me cum in it, sweetheart?" You make a little noise that almost sounds like an 'mhmm' the best you can with your mouth wrapped around him. "Good girl, breath through your nose, relax your mouth, and let me just fucking use you. Swallow everything I give you, baby." And suddenly he's holding the sides of your face and chasing his high. You do exactly as he says.

His hand flies out next to him, gripping against the pillow as he struggles to gulp down air, like he's the one being choked on his cock and not you. His vision clears up, and he pulls your mouth back up toward his lips so he can kiss you again, missing the feeling already.

"Did perfect." You're glowing at his praise. Jean lets you burry your head in his chest as he recovers his breathing. "Now lay back and show me how cute you are all split out on my cock."

this is so me!

❥ SHANKS X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: forced orgasms, some yandere vibes, dub-con to be safe, very inappropriate use of conqueror's haki, power dynamics (captain/crew), praise, creampie, Shanks is so mean but so good and I would die for him

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

“You’re gonna cum for me, darlin’, even if I have to take it from you.”

The weight of his words curl around your throat like a vice, blood pumping in your ears you until can barely hear his boisterous laugh. 

The smile he gives is so cheshire, so oddly genuine, it makes a shiver of fear run down the back of your neck. Perhaps it’s actually pleasure, but the emotions are too entangled for your brain to piece apart your state of mind. 

He’s not letting you go this time, not until he gets what he wants. 

“Shanks,” you plead, nails gripping into the black fabric of his cloak, “we shouldn’t, you’re my captain, and I—”

“And your captain knows what’s best for you. Promise.”

The playful lilt in his voice is disarming. 

He always lures you in so easily, and usually you can squirm away, calm your raging heart and pretend like you’re not the object of his desires. Because you shouldn’t be, you can’t be, you’re honor bound to serve him as your captain and you refuse to let lust cloud your relationship to Shanks. He helped make you a pirate. You’re more than a mistress.

Yet he’s already stripped you bare for him tonight, easy work for one of the most powerful men on the seas.

Warm lips press into your cheek as you turn your face from him, gritting your teeth as you deny his kiss.

Shanks chuckles in the face of your defiance, squishing his fingers into your cheeks to make you look at him. 

“You know, you really are cute, thinking you can stop me. Besides, don’t you want to follow Captain’s orders, hm? That’s why I picked you—you’re so loyal, always willing to please. But you should please and be pleased.”

His eyes close with a sincere smile, the pink scars nearly shining in the firelight of his room.

Perhaps you do forget sometimes how weak you are compared to him, to the man who can cut down enemies with a single gaze. 

Trapped between his colossal body and the wall, you have nowhere to run, no way to slink off and keep only ghosts of his touches. He’s going to make you feel every moment.

“Want me to show you how good I can make you feel?” 

“Trust me, I know, I know how good you’d feel, but I can’t—”

“You have no idea.”

Somehow he feels closer, as if the sun-kissed skin of his chest from his parted shirt is already blending into yours. He is darkness clouding over you, engulfing you.

He cups your chin with his hand, big fingers spilling down onto your neck. He slants his mouth over yours before you can protest, moving plush lips until you can’t help but moan. Spiced rum, aged and smooth, greets you when his tongue slides between parted lips. He kisses like a dance, like a back and forth that he leads.

“Breathe,” he whispers, and you don’t have to ask why. You sense his conqueror’s haki in the air before you feel the power lick at your skin, dragging and pulling and hot. 

“Cum for me.”

Lightning quick, your tummy tightens, the pleasure centers of your brain on overload as he overtakes you. Desire boils down to your cunt like a poisonous liquid heat, unbearable, sinful, yet so, so blissful as your pussy flutters and you fall over the crest of orgasm. 

“Fuck! Oh, fuck you, fuck, fuck…” Your eyes squeeze closed as the ecstasy is literally ripped from your body, like he somehow sunk his hand inside your core and extracted all the delight he craves. 

“Doesn’t that feel good?”

You can’t help but nod, because yes, it does, as if pleasure is bursting like supernovas underneath your skin. Your hands are clinging to him, one around the back of his neck, the other beneath his shirt, like you can’t help but be closer to the source of your heat.

“Shanks, I…” your tongue is so thick in your mouth, searching for words you can’t think of.

“Now imagine just how fucking good you’ll feel when you do that on my cock.” 

“Please, oh, god, please.”

His famous laugh greets your ears and you’re almost knocked back to the reality of who has you in his grasp. 

“That’s my girl.” 

You’re in his bed before you know it, eyes glassy at the sight of his naked body. You knew he’d be beautiful, but the actual view of him, on his knees, pumping his cock in his hand while between your legs has you whining.

“What’s going on in your pretty little head? Tell me.” 

“I…want you, so badly, and I-I’m sorry for pushing you away. I never—”

He shushes you, takes his hand from his cock so he can brush the back of his finger across your cheek, “You were just doing what you thought was right. Didn’t wanna just be my plaything, did you? I know you wanted to be my strong little pirate, but you can be both.” 

“Promise?” 

“Swear it.” He grins like a little boy as he mockingly draws an X across his heart with his finger. 

How can someone so deadly be so adorable?

Your instincts are flaring again, telling you to run, that once he sinks his claws into you, you’ll only ever be his. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Maybe that doesn’t sound so bad, especially not with how good it feels when he buries his hand between your thighs, fingers playing in your wetness. 

Shanks is equal parts messy and methodical, swirling his fingers around in your slick folds before rubbing his thumb over your already sensitive clit. You cry out, back arching and nails digging so deeply in his pillows you swear you hear fabric rip.

“Think I made you wet enough to take my cock already, don’t you?” 

To prove his point, he slides his slick-drenched fingers between your lips, letting you taste yourself. You nod your affirmation as you suck against his skin, his eyes shining as you wrap your tongue around his fingers.

You eye his cock between his legs, preening at the thought of having him inside you. His cock is pretty, fat, already leaking and veins straining beneath silken skin. Red curls crawl up his toned stomach and you nearly drool around his fingers. 

All you ever wanted was to be a pirate, but the sight of your captain’s cock has you content to be a whore.

“Been dreamin’ about you in my sheets ever since I found you, darlin’. Knew you were the one for me, my perfect girl.”

“Oh please,” you gasp as he draws his fingers from your mouth, dragging them down to your tit so he can pinch your nipple, “you know what praise does to me, Shanks.”

“Of course I do,” he sing-songs, grasping his dick and pushing his tip between your folds. He presses in, a cant of his hips shoving his cock halfway into your dripping hole. Your head falls back at the stretch, cooing at the feel of him. 

Shanks is clearly done chasing you, mindset moved to capture, to take. He bottoms out and immediately starts moving, grinning as he watches your pussy lips drag along his length. 

He wolf-whistles at the sight, making you flush with a strange mixture of embarrassment and pride. “Look at that pretty fucking pussy. So slutty already for me.”

Strong fingers push your thigh back, spreading you wide as he starts his pace. 

“Now,” Shanks clicks his tongue against his teeth, “let’s see what it feels like when I make you cum around my cock.” 

“You don’t, ah,” you gasp as his cockhead prods against a soft spot, “h-have to make me, I’ll—” 

“Shh, I’ll take care of you, baby. Let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

There’s no time to think, not with how fast he acts, a simple look into your eyes has you shattering until you scream. The pleasure claws from your depths all over again, more intense now that your cunt has his fat cock to convulse around. You suck him in deep as you fall, bliss blooming over every nerve ending. Your toes curl, your nails cut into his shoulders, your stomach nearly hurts from the twisting of your orgasm. 

“God damn, you feel so fucking good when you do that, get so tight around me.” 

“Sh-Sha—mhm, fuck,” you try to protest, to say something, but the way his body moves into yours is like the mesmeric waves, lulling you into a headspace of drifting euphoria. 

He’s all over you—hand in your hair, tongue sliding down your neck, lips sucking at the fat of your tits, teeth scraping along your curves. He’s all encompassing, snaking his arm behind your back until you're pressed against his thick chest and rocking with every thrust.

The orgasms have made you numb, all you feel is pure carnality, like now you just exist to fuck and be fucked.

For a moment you wonder if he’s still forcing it on you, but you decide you don’t care. He’s the only one who can make you feel like this, haki or no.

Shanks brushes his nose down your cheek, lips hot and wet as he kisses your skin, “Touch me, baby, be with me.” 

Like puppetry, your hands trace his musculature, taking note of how his shoulders roll with every push and how his abdominal muscles stiffen whenever your cunt spasms from pleasure.

You kiss over the freckles on his shoulder, down to the thick bicep he no longer wraps in bandages. 

He groans as your lips get close to where his arm used to be, a purr from deep in his chest like you’re too close to something vulnerable.

“Gonna take from you again, darlin.’ Gotta feel your cunt suck me dry.” 

“N-no I can—I can do it, I can cum for you, promise.” 

“Mhm, where’s the fun in that when I can just make you?”

His hand snakes around your body, letting you sink into the bed free of his hold. He teases your clit just because he can, because he likes watching you wiggle and writhe and whine beneath him.

You suck in a sob, “Please, just a little more, more, and I—”

Shanks’ haki feels like the warm licks of familiar fire. He burns because you let him too close, stared too long at the flames. 

You’re sure he purposely brings the assault of his conqueror's power on slower, lets it bleed and blend with the ecstasy building from the sensitive pressure on your clit. 

This crest is bigger, fuller, like you’ve been thrown from the Red Force into the toiling dark ocean. Only it’s boiling, scorching and tugging the pleasure from deep within your belly. 

“Oh god,” you throw your head back and whine, “too hot.” 

Shanks groans deep from his chest, fingers pausing on your clit as he feels you cum around him. His thighs shake, cock twitching and throbbing. Mean fingers dig into the softness of your belly like he’s clinging to sanity, holding himself back just enough to be in control. 

“One more, baby.”

He starts thrusting again, a slow grind into your depths that has red curls kneading into your clit. You feel him in your guts, your heart, like the beat of blood in your veins. 

“C-can’t, god, can’t, please.” Please no. Please yes. You’re back in an entanglement of emotions where no way is up, the sun still so far from underneath the waves.

Shanks buries his face in your neck, red hair fanning like embers across overheated skin. 

He sucks at your pulse, flesh between his lips, “yes you can, my good girl. For me.” 

You’re slammed into a new atmosphere, floating for seconds before being dragged back down, down to where you feel details of your name whispered against your throat and the pulsing of a thick cock as ropes of cum spill into tight, gummy walls. 

“Fuuuucckk, oh g-god, Shanks, hurts, so good, shit—”

You babble until your mouth runs dry, anchored by your captain’s bruising grasp on your hip. He has you flush against his body, heavy breaths syncing as you both float up from hell.

It’s like waking up from a dream when he starts kissing you, all feather-light and reverent. He sits up and his lopsided smile seems so sincere. 

“So proud of you, really thought you were gonna pass out there for a second.” He laughs playfully, blowing a stray red hair from his face. 

All you do is whine and shift your sore hips, gasping at the feel of his cock still hard and deep inside you. 

You’re not sure how much time passes before he pops his dick out—your heart beats are too erratic to count as seconds. 

He sinks praises into your skin, kissing down your breasts, your belly, making you jerk when he kisses the mound of your pussy. 

His breath is hot on your clit. That feeling has your mind shattering like porcelain, a sharp smack centering you straight back into reality. You sit up and stare at the scene before you, sharp-eyed prey watching a predator in the forest. 

“Shanks, no, please, for the love of god—” 

“No no no no, it’s okay,” he coos from between your legs, eyes closing and head cocking to the side as he smiles, “I’m not gonna take this one from you. Promise. Gonna let you do it all by yourself, nice and slow.” 

It’s easy to forget that Shanks is a bad liar when he shoves his pretty face down to eat his cum from your pussy.