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hate when im reading and theres a word i dont know so i search it in the dictionary and its like: beuperer. noun. a person who beupers. i'll fucking kill you
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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you know that trope where it’s princess + knight, but they’ve both been captured by the bad guys and the princess is now gripped by the jaw by the villain, receiving a thin cut to her cheek while remaining completely still with a defiant look in her eyes even as a droplet of blood begins to trickle out of the wound, all while 3 people AT THE VERY LEAST need to have their hands locked on the knight because he’s thrashing around like a wild animal, trying so so so desperately, violently, to get to her?
Once, when you thought you had a good understanding of how he worked, you were certain Shanks was best enjoyed in pieces.
Drinks shared and nights spent with his hand at your hip and his mouth against your neck before dawn. But always in fleeting moments. Never for more than that. It was easier that way. If you stayed longer than a night, it became more difficult.
And Shanks had never been the type for anything more than easy.
You had assumed, at least.
The first time he made the offer was in a room already hot with the lingering aftermath of the evening. Rough sheets twisted around your legs, sticking to sweat-slick skin while the open window did little to chase away the summer air. Bruises were already beginning to bloom along your throat from the lazy path of his mouth before he slipped between your legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee, softer than anything he'd given you before.
“Come with me tomorrow,” he said, offering another further up your thigh. “Sail with us.”
You lifted your head, curious at the gentleness of his words and his touch. “Join you?” you asked. “Do you not have a full crew already?”
“We do,” he said, his smile lazy as ever. “But I’ll make space for you.”
You laughed quietly to yourself, brushing some of his hair away from his face so you could appreciate him better. Too handsome for his own good. He knew he could get away with anything if he looked at you like that.
“I see a problem with your offer,” you said and he kissed further along your thigh.
“What is it?”
“It’ll make you lose interest too quickly.”
Shanks paused, leaning his cheek against your skin. “Lose interest?”
You moved your leg from his shoulder and leaned down to drag him higher up your body, fingers tangled in his hair and lips locked in a messy kiss. He still tasted of the drinks he’d downed earlier and that explained enough about his impulsive offer.
“It won’t be fun if I’m already on board your ship,” you teased.
“Nonsense. If I had you on my ship, I'd never get anything done. Becks would have to start captaining properly.”
“Don’t you do that when I’m around anyway?” you asked.
He hummed and kissed you again as though to distract you. “Maybe.”
You chuckled softly, unwilling to admit to him how much his offer tempted you. He was far too addictive to turn down. Especially when his tongue was in your mouth and his hand was dragging your leg back up his hip. If you didn’t focus, you could almost believe he wanted you to stay with him. But pretty words alone couldn’t sway you.
You still left the next morning and he didn’t stop you, just pressed a kiss to your shoulder as you slipped from the bed.
“We’ll see each other soon,” he said and he sounded far too confident.
You smiled. “I suppose it depends on if the sea favours us.”
“The sea’s a big friend of mine,” he reassured you. “I’m sure she’ll bring you back to me.”
He wasn’t wrong. No matter how far you sailed, the ocean didn’t give you long before it reunited you with the Red Hair Pirates. You stopped shying away from them after the third encounter, growing bolder with each offer Shanks tossed your way.
Now when you saw the Red Force docked in harbour, her flag snapping high above the masts, you'd wander the island until you found the right tavern. It was never difficult. Somewhere there would be a building with music spilling from the windows, laughter loud enough to shake the walls and patrons pretending not to stare at the cluster of infamous pirates occupying half the room. The Red Hair Pirates had a talent for making themselves at home wherever they landed.
They were a friendly crew. A mostly peaceful one, even. But they were the crew of an emperor and people respected that deeply.
You walked in most times, walked out with your hands in Shanks’ hair every time, and it was never a problem.
Not until the one evening when you waltzed in and half of his crew nudged their captain as though he hadn’t already raised his head to look at you. You smiled at him and made your way to the bar, not bothering him and the woman currently pressed to his arm.
But he never wasted time in approaching you, even if he was busy. He slipped up behind you as you ordered your drink and nodded to the bartender.
"Whatever she's having is on me."
You hummed. “You’re going to run your ship dry if you pay for the drinks of every girl that smiles at you.”
His arm slipped naturally around your waist, resting on your hip as though it belonged there. “Not every girl with a great smile,” he corrected. “Just the ones who need a bit more convincing to dance with me.”
The music in this tavern wasn’t quite suited for dancing. It was softer and almost impossible to hear over the shouts of his crew.
“I might need more convincing than a drink,” you commented.
“Name your price.”
Shanks was far too good at making your heart flutter, no matter how often you were exposed to his seemingly endless charm. He already knew he’d get what he wanted that night and you knew it too but sometimes, making him work for it was part of the fun.
“You’ve been trying to guess at my price for a while now,” you said. “You haven’t gotten any closer.”
“I’ll figure it out with enough time.”
You turned to face him fully, draping your arms loosely over his shoulders. “I’m lucky I managed to find you without any other pretty women around, hm? Ones with more reasonable demands?”
He chuckled and leaned in to press his lips against the side of your throat. “There are plenty. Funny thing is, I keep ending up back here.”
You tilted your head to the side. “As easy to lead back to your bed?”
The expression he gave you was off – a smile that didn’t quite get to his eyes. “Such little faith in me. You’re lucky I don’t get hurt easily.”
“It’s not a lack of faith,” you corrected. “But I know you enjoy the chase more than the reward.”
“I enjoy both as long as you’re there.”
You smiled. “I think you’d miss it too much.”
“Miss what? Waking up alone? Sounds awful.” He pulled you closer. “Can’t say I’d mind having you there instead.”
“The pining,” you corrected. “The wondering when you’ll see me again. Trying to convince me every time. If I was already there, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.”
Something unreadable flickered over his face. “You think I’m trying to convince you for fun?”
“You wouldn’t do it if it was unpleasant.”
“Or if it wasn’t worth it.”
You couldn’t help being flattered by him, always so smooth. You loved the way he spoke sometimes – the way he made you feel as though you were the only important person in the world.
“I’m surprised your crew isn’t filled with women thanks to those pretty words of yours,” you said. “Even I struggle to tell you no.”
Shanks laughed, a short sound. “Wouldn’t have guessed you struggle with it.”
You leaned in, your mouth hot against his. He kissed you lazily as though you had nowhere else to be, allowing you to lead him through it.
“I’ll get us a room upstairs,” you said with a hum.
For a second, he smiled. Then he leaned in to press a swift peck to the corner of your mouth and said, “No.”
It was as though even the music itself paused as you blinked at him. “No?”
“As much as I love chasing you,” he said, stepping away and leaving the space in front of you feeling very empty. “I’m starting to think you enjoy being chased more than you want me. We set sail in the morning. The offer still stands.”
You watched him walk away in mild confusion, still a little lost before his words caught up to you.
Was he serious?
The bartender placed your drink down next to you but you barely heard it. The music carried on around you as though nothing had changed. A few members of the Red Hair Pirates were starting up a song. The woman he’d been talking to earlier grinned when he returned but he took a seat aside Yasopp instead.
You looked around the party and shrugged, taking your drink and a seat at the bar. If he didn’t leave, you had no reason to either.
Maybe he was trying to prove a point? You thought he might look for another woman whose words didn’t sting as bad as yours did, but he drank and laughed with only his crew and you pretended not to see the way he looked at you. As though he was waiting for something.
You finished your drink and swung off the stool, sliding the beri across to the bartender.
“Isn’t – ”
“I can pay for myself.”
The cold night air was refreshing against your face but the familiar curl of cigarette smoke drew your attention to a very unaffected Beckman. You paused when you saw him, not sure if he had something to say. He looked like he did.
“Running away again?”
“No idea what you mean,” you retorted.
He tilted his head toward the swinging door of the tavern; each time it moved, the raucous din bled through into the night. Beckman wasn’t even really what you would consider an acquaintance but he’d dragged Shanks out your bed more times than you could count.
“It’s early for you to be leaving alone,” he noted.
You didn’t have any reason to explain the break in routine to his first mate. And yet…
“Change of pace tonight,” you said. “I think I offended him.”
Beckman nodded. “You did.”
“I didn’t even know that was possible.”
He shrugged and offered you a cigarette. “I didn’t think it was until recently. Not many people can get under his skin.”
“I’m not wrong though,” you defended yourself.
“No,” he agreed. “You weren’t at one point. I’ve long since lost track of how many women I’ve had to drop off at port in the mornings but none of them were recent. Since he met you, there’s been no others.”
You didn’t want to admit to the way that made your heart flutter just slightly. “It’s the challenge. He tries to get me to join your merry little crew, I do, and then he gets bored in a month.”
“It’s possible.”
You didn’t know why it annoyed you so much that he agreed with you but you felt the glare before you could stop it. True or not, he could have said it in a better way.
“Why does it bother you so much then?” Beckman asked. “If you’re so sure that it’s the truth?”
“It’s still not nice to hear.”
“Because you’ve fallen in love with him?”
You shot him a sharp look. If you didn’t know quite how dangerous this man was, you may have snapped a little more venomously. How you hated him for saying the quiet parts of your worst thoughts out loud.
“I don’t fall in love that easily,” you huffed. “I just don’t particularly feel like joining a pirate crew to be a pretty face on the sidelines.”
“He says you have good enough aim that you won’t be wholly useless. And I’m sure he’ll teach you more if you ask.”
You had no other defence. On a different crew, you may have believed him but you’d heard the legends of the Red Hair Pirates and their skills. You would not sail with an emperor just for the sake that he found you attractive. That was a ridiculous decision. Even without the risk that he lost interest once you gave him what he wanted.
“You can see where we’re docked?” Beckman asked.
“Hard to miss.”
“Then you may as well prove your point.” He blew a puff of smoke into the sky. “You can be useless, let him lose interest and I’ll concede that you’re right.”
“And if I would rather things remain as they are?”
“They won’t. You’ve already ruined that part.”
You almost didn’t board. The Red Force came to life while you stood on the dock, shrouded in shadows and watched the sun rise over the horizon the next morning. The crew woke with complaints of headaches and aches as they got to work.
They were about to weigh anchor by the time you finally found the courage to walk forward, catching Hongo with a look right before he raised the ladder.
He stared for a second and then gestured you to board.
It was a strange feeling to step onto the Red Force. The gangplank creaked softly beneath your boots and the ship rose and fell beneath you with the easy rhythm of the sea. For years she had existed as something distant, spoken about in stories and rumours across countless ports. Yet the deck felt solid beneath your feet. The tarred ropes smelled no different from those of any other vessel. No monsters waited beyond the railings. Just a few curious glances and shouted greetings as the wind swelled her sails.
“He’s downstairs,” Hongo said. “Drank more than usual so he’s still nursing a hangover if you want to see him.”
You looked toward the ship’s doctors. “With how much you lot drink, I’m honestly surprised you don’t have a cure already.”
He smiled. “Maybe I do but I simply enjoy the peace in the mornings. Do you want a tour?”
It wasn’t as though you had anything better to do although it did catch you off guard just how unsurprised the Red Hair Pirates seemed to be about your arrival. Not one of them even mentioned your arrival as the wind caught her sails.
Not even Beckman who gave you a simple nod.
The Red Force was kept in beautiful condition. She was evidently loved and no room felt neglected as you followed Hongo through her passages.
Hongo walked you through the galley, the infirmary, the stores, and everywhere else you might need aboard. You memorised the route as best you could, making note of scuffed boards and chips in the wood rather than considering the ship as anything more. It was easier to focus on that, you realised.
Hongo stopped at a door at the end of a passage that led through the quarters and he pushed it open with casual ease.
“This one’s yours.”
You frowned at the way he said it before stepping inside.
A warm, clean room waited beyond the doorway. Sunlight spilled through the small window, stirring the pale curtains where the sea breeze caught them. A narrow bed sat against one wall with blankets folded neatly across the end while an empty chest waited beside a small desk untouched by clutter. Nothing looked lived in. Nothing looked abandoned either. The room carried the strange feeling of something prepared and patiently waiting.
Guest quarters maybe? Though that hardly made sense and this didn’t look like a spare room, briefly swept out when you stepped aboard. They wouldn’t have had time for that.
There was an explanation that made sense though not one you fully grappled with.
“How long has this been here?” you asked.
“Couple months now. Captain wanted it ready if you ever changed your mind.”
You tried not to let it show just how much that made your stomach twist. He’d prepared a room on his ship in case you joined?
Still, you tried to ignore the topic for a little longer by returning to the deck after leaving your bag. You found an opportunity to lean against one of the cannons, talking to Yasopp about nothing of importance while you watched the island fade behind you.
The door onto deck opened and Shanks stepped out, dishevelled and hiding his eyes from the sun.
Naturally his crew all shouted at once in response to his obvious headache and he winced visually, which only made the others laugh harder. You couldn’t help but smile, chuckling softly at their torment.
He spun at the sound, grin disappearing at once.
Your heart lodged in your throat as you stared, not certain what you should say.
“You’re here?”
Well, he didn’t have to sound so surprised.
“Have been for the whole morning,” you said, your voice quieter than you meant for it to be. “But I thought I should let you get your beauty sleep.”
He chuckled as he walked over, smile gentler than you’d ever seen it before. His eyes glinted with barely concealed excitement as he approached. “Did somebody show you around? To your room?”
“You set that up a while ago,” you said. “Very confident.”
“Hopeful,” he clarified. “How long are you staying for?”
You hesitated before you answered. If you really wanted to, you could disappear the next time you found yourself at an island. But something about that room sitting and waiting for you made leaving feel far less appealing than it ever had before.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you settled on saying.
“That’s fine. When you do leave, just tell me before you go.”
“I will,” you promised.
How many years had passed since you made that promise now? You thought back on it, trying to remember while you swirled the drink in your hand, Shanks’ hand still resting on your hip where it belonged.
“Lost in thought?” he asked.
“Lost in memories,” you corrected with a small smile.
“Oh?” He leaned in close and pressed a kiss right behind your ear in the way that always made you laugh. “Which ones?”
“Ancient ones. I realised that I’m still waiting for you to get bored of me so I can run away.” You took a sip of your drink and tilted your head toward him. “You getting there yet?”
He laughed proudly. “Nowhere close. I should probably be more careful though. Think you’d sooner shoot me than run away now.”
You chuckled in agreement and leaned in to kiss him, slow and lazy as ever. “Maybe. I’m no longer much of a runner.”
other pirates / antagonists - m!one piece x chubby fem!reader
He pulls you back onto him when you try to crawl away from overstimulation
featuring. shanks, dracule mihawk, donquixote doflamingo, charlotte katakuri, crocodile, caesar clown, buggy, smoker
cw/tags (19+ Only | Minors DNI). explicit smut, pwp, vaginal penetration, overstimulation, inappropriate use of devil fruits, cnc, dirty talk
Shanks
Shanks had you on your back, legs wrapped around his waist as he moved inside you with slow, deliberate rolls of his hips.
His cock dragged along your walls at an almost torturous pace, stretching you open so perfectly with every deep, lazy thrust. He savored the way your soft curves trembled beneath him, how your plush thighs squeezed around him, and the little gasps you made each time he ground against that sweet spot of yours.
"Easy now, sweetheart," he murmured against your neck, voice low and warm with that signature grin. "No need to rush... I could stay buried in you like this all night."
His hand roamed appreciatively over the soft swell of your stomach, squeezing gently, then moved up to cup one of your tits as he kept up his unhurried rhythm. The pleasure built gradually, wave after wave, until it became too much and your nerves felt raw, oversensitive from how long he'd been edging you like this.
"Shanks--nngh, please--it's too much," you whimpered, pushing weakly at his chest.
You twisted beneath him and started crawling away on shaky arms, trying to escape the overwhelming intensity.
A playful, husky chuckle escaped him.
Before you could get far, his arm wrapped around your waist and yanked you right back toward him and he pinned you down into the bed in one smooth motion and pulled your hips up high.
"Oh no you don't," Shanks laughed, voice thick with teasing affection. "You're not slipping away from me that easy."
He lined himself up and slammed his cock back inside you in one hard thrust, bottoming out deep. The sudden roughness made you cry out into the sheets.
His pace shifted instantly, no longer slow and lazy. He started pounding into you with powerful, relentless snaps of his hips, the wet slap of skin against skin filling the room. Your soft curves bounced and jiggled with every brutal thrust, ass rippling as he drove into your soaked pussy.
"Fuuuck, you feel incredible," he groaned, gripping your hip tightly, fingers sinking into plush flesh. "All warm and tight... squeezing me so good even when you're trying to get away."
You sobbed from the overstimulation, legs shaking hard, but Shanks kept you anchored in place. His hand slid under you to grope your stomach lovingly while simultaneously yanking you back onto his cock with each forward thrust.
He leaned over your back, red hair tickling your skin as he nipped at your shoulder.
"C'mon, baby... don't fight it," he teased breathlessly, voice still carrying that warm, cheeky tone even as he railed you harder. "I know you can take it. My pretty girl always does ♥"
He angled his hips to hit your sweet spot over and over, fucking you with rough, confident strokes. Sweat slicked your bodies as he kept up the intense rhythm, clearly loving how overwhelmed and messy you were for him.
Every time you tried to squirm forward even a little, he just laughed softly and pulled you right back, burying himself deeper.
"That's it... let me hear those pretty sounds," he praised, voice husky. "You're not going anywhere until I've had my fill of this perfect body."
Dracule Mihawk
Mihawk had you pinned beneath him in a deep mating press, his movements slow and precise as he rolled his hips.
His cock slid in and out of your creaming pussy with controlled depth, dragging against every sensitive ridge inside you. He watched your face intently with those sharp golden eyes as one large hand rested possessively on the plush swell of your stomach, fingers occasionally pressing down hard until he could feel himself moving inside you.
"You are trembling already," he observed quietly, voice low and composed. "Yet your body continues to pull me deeper."
The slow, intense rhythm had gone on for so long that pleasure had turned into overwhelming overstimulation. Every stroke felt like too much, your walls fluttering and twitching around his cock as tears gathered in your eyes.
"Mihawk, L-love--I need a moment--" you gasped, voice breaking.
You pushed against his chest and twisted away, managing to slip from his grasp just enough to roll onto your stomach. On trembling legs, you started crawling toward the edge of the bed, desperate for relief.
You could hear a quiet exhale from behind you before his hand shot out with lightning speed, fingers wrapping firmly around your thick ankle. With one powerful tug, Mihawk yanked you back across the sheets until he had you where he wanted again.
"Escaping me?" His velvet voice murmured, laced with subtle amusement. "How foolish."
He flipped you onto all fours and mounted you instantly with no warming and slammed his cock back inside you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The sudden roughness ripped a strangled moan out of you.
Mihawk began fucking you hard, hips snapping forward with raw power and precision. Each punishing thrust made your plush thighs and ass ripple violently, your tits jostling beneath you while being pressed into the mattress.
"You will not run," he growled low, one hand fisting your hair to arch your back while the other gripped your soft hip hard enough to leave marks. He pulled you back onto his cock with every forward drive, his balls tapping at your clit, stimulating you even further.
Your body shook uncontrollably from the overstimulation, but Mihawk showed no mercy. He railed you with deep, devastating strokes, angling perfectly to hit that sensitive spot inside you without fail.
"So soft and warm around me," he murmured, voice strained yet still controlled. "Yet so greedy. You can take more of this."
He leaned over your back, teeth sinking sharply into your shoulder as he pounded harder. Sweat glistened on your skin as he kept you locked in place, refusing to let even an inch of distance form between you.
Every time you tried to crawl forward even slightly, his grip tightened and he dragged you right back, impaling you deeper on his thick cock. His breathing grew heavier against your neck, but his rhythm remained relentless and dominant.
"Stay," he commanded quietly, voice rough with lust. "You will come again for me like this. I want to feel you fall apart while I take what is mine."
Mihawk's intense gaze burned into you as he continued, wringing every broken moan and shudder from you with masterful control.
Donquixote Doflamingo
Doflamingo lounged back against the headboard with a lazy grin while you straddled him, riding his cock with exhausted rolls of your hips.
Your thighs burned as you ground down on his cock, barely able to do more than slow, tired circles. Sweat glistened on your body as your tits bounced with each weak movement. He watched you with amusement, hands resting behind his head like he was enjoying a show.
"Fufufu... getting tired already?" he teased, voice low and mocking. "Keep moving, little dove. I want to feel you work for it."
The overstimulation had crept up slowly. Your pussy was swollen and hypersensitive, every grind sending sharp sparks through your exhausted body. You couldn't take any more.
"Doffy... I can't--" you whined with a hiccup.
You tried to lift yourself off him, but your shaky legs gave out, impaling yourself again by accident. Desperate, you slid sideways and started crawling away across the large bed as your body quivered with each movement.
"Oh? You think we’re done here?"
Thin strings shot out instantly, wrapping tightly around your wrists, ankles, and waist. With a sharp tug, Doflamingo dragged you right back across the sheets like a helpless puppet, flipping you onto your back in front of him.
"You're not finished yet~" he sang, grinning wide.
More strings lifted your legs high, spreading your thick thighs obscenely wide and folding your knees toward your chest. He used the strings like marionette wires to lift you off the bed and over him, before dropping and impaling you on his cock in one brutal motion.
You screamed as he filled you completely.
No more slow grinding, he was over that. He immediately started fucking you with vicious, upward thrusts, using the strings to slam your body down onto his cock in perfect time with his hips. Your whole body bounced with every savage impact.
"Fufufu! Look at you," he laughed breathlessly, eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure behind his glasses. "All spread open and helpless on my cock. This is how I like you best."
The strings kept your legs locked wide and high, completely controlling your movements as he railed you mercilessly. Every hard thrust punched deep, the wet slap of your bodies loud and filthy. He used another set of strings to pinch and tug at your nipples while one teased at your swollen clit.
"Struggle all you want," he growled, voice thick with lust. "These strings aren't letting you go anywhere until this cunt is ruined."
He brought you down harder with the strings, impaling you deeper with every snap of his hips. Your plush body jolted violently as he fucked you like a toy, his grin never fading.
"Cry louder for me," he demanded, laughing darkly. "I love how you tremble when you're overwhelmed. Such a perfect little plaything~♥"
Doflamingo kept you suspended and spread, strings digging into your soft flesh as he pounded upward without mercy. He was lost in the thrill of controlling every inch of your pleasure, dragging out your overstimulation until you were a broken, dripping mess.
Charlotte Katakuri
Katakuri had you in his lap, facing him as he guided your movements with his hands on your hips as his massive cock stretched you wide while he rolled his hips upward in shallow, measured thrusts.
Even in the heat of it, his expression remained mostly composed, though his eyes softened with rare affection as he watched your body move against him. Your tits were pressed warmly against his broad chest while your stomach squishing against his abs with every slow grind.
"You are doing so well," he praised, voice low and steady, almost soothing. "Taking me so deeply..." although he was barely half way inside of you.
But the long session had pushed you past your limit. Pleasure had turned into overwhelming overstimulation as your pussy fluttered and clenched uncontrollably around him. Your thighs shook violently against his sides.
"Katakuri--I’m so full--I can’t take much more of this…" you breathed through gritted teeth, looking at where the two of you remained connected.
You pushed against his chest and slid off him, stumbling across the large bed, desperate for a moment to recover.
His right arm transformed into flowing mochi and the sticky, flexible substance stretched across the distance and wrapped firmly around your waist and thighs. With a gentle, controlled pull, he dragged you back toward him, the mochi gently but inescapably binding your soft body.
"No, not when you need this as much as I do," he said calmly before he flipped you onto your back and loomed over you.
More mochi extended from his shoulders, wrapping around your wrists and pinning them above your head while another thick strand looped under your knees. He folded your thick thighs high and wide, spreading you completely open.
Then he pushed his cock back into your pussy with one powerful thrust, burying himself completely unlike before. The sudden pressure of your body adjusting to his full length ripped a loud cry from you.
His pace turned more rough and demanding as he used his strength to slam his hips forward as though trying to get himself even deeper than he already was.
The mochi held you perfectly in place, keeping your legs spread wide and your arms restrained. Despite the roughness, his touch remained protective, almost reverent as he watched your reactions closely.
"You are so soft and warm," he growled quietly, voice strained but still composed. "So perfect like this... overwhelmed and full of me."
With his size it was impossible not to brush your sweet spot with each movement, making tears spill down your cheeks as your body shook hard in his restraints, but Katakuri did not relent.
"You feel incredible when you squeeze around me like this," he praised, leaning down to press a surprisingly tender kiss to your forehead even as he pounded into you. "Let go. I will hold you through it."
His thrusts grew even harder, the bed creaking loudly beneath you both. He kept you completely trapped in his embrace, refusing to let you escape the pleasure he was determined to give you.
"I want to feel you come apart again... my beautiful, soft girl."
Katakuri's intense gaze never left your face for long as he drove into you relentlessly, using his mochi to keep you locked exactly where he wanted while he chased for your release.
Crocodile
Crocodile had you bent over the edge of the bed with your upper body pressed into the silk sheets as he took you from behind.
His cock stretched you open with each deep, controlled thrust, the weight of his body keeping you pinned. One large hand gripped your soft hip while his golden hook rested against the plush curve of your ass, cool metal teasing your heated skin.
"There we go... just like that," he drawled, voice low and smug. "You're going to take every inch until I decide otherwise."
The long, unhurried pace had pushed you into dangerous territory as every slow drag of his cock made your nerves scream as your legs shook beneath him.
"Fuck~♥” you swore, gripping the sheets below you. “I’m getting too sensitive, show a bit of mercy Croc--" you plead died with a moan as he hit your sweet spot dead on.
You clawed at the sheets and tried to crawl forward unsuccessful, unable to pull yourself off of his cock in your frantic attempt for relief.
"Mercy? From me?"
Sand suddenly burst from his left hand, swirling around your waist and thighs, stopping you in your attempt to get away.
"You're not going anywhere until I've had my fill," he growled smugly.
Before you could recover, his hook slid around the front of your neck and pulled you upright onto your knees, pressing your back flush against his chest. The curved metal rested firmly under your chin, keeping you arched and trapped.
"Pathetic thing," he laughed darkly into your ear. "Begging for mercy while this greedy cunt keeps sucking me in."
He immediately started pounding into you, hips snapping upward hard and deep. Your soft body jolted violently in this new position, tits bouncing wildly, plush stomach shaking with every brutal thrust.
His free hand reached around to roughly grope and squeeze your tits, pinching your nipples hard while his hook kept your neck secured against him. The new angle let him drive even deeper, hitting that sensitive spot even harder than before.
"Look at these tits bouncing for me," he growled smugly, voice thick with lust as he kneaded and slapped the soft flesh. "So perfect... made to be played with while I take you how I want."
You moan loudly from the overwhelming overstimulation, but Crocodile only fucked you harder. The sand around your thighs kept your legs spread wide as he railed you relentlessly from behind.
"You don't get to run from what you asked for this morning, remember?" he growled, voice rough with lust. "You said it yourself that this body is mine to use... and I'm nowhere near done with you."
Every powerful thrust made your body ripple. His hand continued mauling your tits, tugging your nipples and squeezing the plush flesh as he pounded upward without mercy. The hook under your neck kept you perfectly displayed and helpless.
"It's like you were made to be fucked like this."
He kept you locked in the kneeling position as his low, mocking laughter mixed with your broken cries as he dragged out your overstimulation, clearly savoring every tremble.
Caesar Clown
Caesar had you on all fours while he fucked you with steady, rhythmic thrusts at a brisk consistent pace, each one perfectly angled as he continued his 'experiment' that had already been going for well over 2 hours.
His dug his fingers into your hips while he observed every twitch and moan, constantly fine-tuning his movements like the dedicated scientist he was.
"Shurororo~ Yes! Look at those beautiful reactions!" he cackled. "Your pussy is clenching so perfectly around me.--Such excellent data!"
This relentless pace he kept up for more than sixty minutes had completely destroyed you. Your nerves were fried raw from the extended session as he exploited every sensitive spot.
"Caesar--ahh--it's too much, I can't handle it anymore--" you begged, voice shaking and desperate.
You lunged forward and tried to scramble away for any relief from the overwhelming intensity.
"Oh no you don't! You're not ruining my experiment!"
Thick pinkish aphrodisiac gas suddenly burst out from Caesar's body, flooding the air and filling your lungs. The gas hit your senses instantly, making your skin burn hotter and pussy throb with desperate, aching need as your mind grew foggy with forced arousal.
Even as you felt overstimulated, the gas made you crave him even more.
Before you could crawl another inch, Caesar's fingers wrapped around your waist and yanked you back hard. He dragged your body right back to him, flipping you onto your back with a wide grin.
"Shurororo! That's it--breathe it in deeper," he cackled, eyes gleaming with chaotic delight. "My special aphrodisiac will make you need my cock even more~"
He slammed his cock back into your pussy, forcing a loud, broken moan from your throat. His pace instantly became fast and punishing as he started fucking you erratically.
Your tits bounced with every thrust while the aphrodisiac gas continued pouring into the room, making every sensation feel electric and unbearable.
"You feel that? Your body is begging for me now!" Caesar groaned, voice whiny yet dominant as he pounded into you. "Look at you trembling and dripping... so insightful!"
He leaned over you, his hands pinning your wrists to the bed.
"Trying to crawl away from me? How rude!" he laughed breathlessly. "Now you're going to cum until you can't think straight. All thanks to my genius gas~"
The mix of his rough, frantic pounding and the overwhelming aphrodisiac left you sobbing and moaning uncontrollably as your body burned with desperate need.
Caesar kept you trapped beneath him, fucking you like a madman lost in his favorite experiment. Which he was, to be fair.
"This cunt is going to milk me dry while you lose your mind for me."
Buggy
Buggy had you on your stomach with his cock buried deep inside you as he fucked you with frantic, desperate thrusts.
His torso floated above you while his hips slammed against your ass, driving his cock into your creaming pussy. You were filled to the brim and dripping messily with both your releases, the obscene wet sounds loud with every thrust.
"This is the best pussy in the Grand Line, I swear!" he moaned loudly, voice cracking.
"I can't--Buggy Baby--I need a second--PleEEase" you gasped, voice breaking.
You started crawling forward, trying to escape his relentless cock.
A high-pitched, whimper tore out of Buggy the moment he felt your pussy pull away from him.
"Wait--no! D-Don't leave me like this!"
His floating upper body zipped forward and pushed down hard on your shoulders, forcing your plush body back onto his thrusting hips. At the same time, his detached hands floated around to your front, greedily grabbing your tits and roughly pinching and tugging at your sensitive nipples.
"Mmmph--fuck, you feel so good~♥" he whimpered. His head floated beside yours, capturing your lips in a sloppy, messy kiss, tongue pushing deep as he drooled into your mouth.
You tried to crawl away again, pushing forward with a broken sob, which Buggy matched.
"Nooo--come back!"
His cock suddenly detached completely, staying buried deep inside your dripping pussy and continued to thrust on its own with frantic energy.
His full body, save for his cock and hands, quickly reassembled behind you as sat back on his knees, eyes wide and glassy as he watched you.
His detached cock, now free from his hips, started ramming into you even harder and deeper than before, with no body to restrict the motion, allowing it to piston wildly and reach impossibly deep with every stroke.
"Fuuuck--look at you," Buggy moaned breathlessly, voice trembling as he watched your soft body writhe and jolt in pleasure. His floating hands continued twisting and pinching your nipples. "You're losing it... shit, you look so hot like this."
He stayed back and watched greedily, biting his lip as his detached cock slammed into you relentlessly, pushing more of your mixed releases out with every thrust. His hands kept tugging and rolling your nipples as he took in every tremble and broken moan you let you.
"J-just a little more, baby, please..." he begged, voice. "I can't stop yet... you look too perfect taking me like this ♥"
Even as his own body shook from overstimulation, Buggy remained fixated on the sight of you falling apart for him.
Smoker
Smoker had you bent over his wooden desk with your tits and stomach squished against scattered documents as he fucked you from behind.
His cock stretched you with every heavy stroke, the desk groaning under the intensity. Two cigars burned between his teeth, smoke lazily drifting through the room while the windows were already completely covered in a thick white haze for privacy.
"Always so damn needy," he grunted, one rough hand gripping your plush hip as he drove into you. "You're making a mess of my desk... again."
The relentless rhythm had quickly pushed you into overstimulation. Your pussy throbbed, hypersensitive and twitching around his girth with every deep drag.
"Nngh~♥ W-Wait--slow down, my body can't--eeii!--handle this--" you gasped in broken pieces.
You pushed your hands against the desk and tried to crawl forward, desperate to escape the intense pleasure flooding your body.
"You're not going anywhere," he grunted.
A single hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you back against his hips, burying his cock deep inside again in one motion.
That was the only warning you got before he started fucking you harder, hips snapping forward, making your body rippled wildly against the desk. Then he leaned over you, smoke curling from his mouth as he spoke against your ear.
"Keep trying to crawl away and I'll clear the smoke from that window, press you right up against the glass and fuck you there instead.--Let every marine outside see how well this slutty body takes my cock."
The threat made you clench hard around him.
Smoker let out a surprised, rough groan, his hips faltering for a moment.
"Shit... you just got tighter," he muttered, sounding both annoyed and smug. "You really like that idea? Heh, you filthy girl."
He immediately picked up the pace, pounding into you with deep, brutal strokes. Thick smoke tendrils slipped under your body, one pressing firmly against your swollen clit while another teased your nipples, adding sharp stimulation while he railed you.
"Making such a mess..." he grumbled, gripping your hip tighter. "and dripping all over my reports... yet still squeezing me like you want me to follow through on that threat."
You sobbed into the desk from the overwhelming sensation, his gruff words ringing in your ears. Your legs shook violently, but Smoker kept you pinned in place, refusing to let you escape even an inch.
"Stay right there," he ordered. "--Or I'll live up to my word, it's your decision."
TAG LIST: @matronofthevoid | @demodemigodness12
a/n. *throws another smut genade during lunch and flees to answer work emails* I rushed editing because this is well over a month late since I was practicing me smut writing, any mistakes are what they areeeeee
art credit: huge thanks to @yintrusiva for the beautiful artwork made for this fanfic <3 she’s also open for commissions, so please check out her account!
zoro x gn!reader (fem!reader only in the illustration)
the crew make you two go on a date but you're both competitive af — what will happen?
law version + ace version
tags: first date, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers, soft, humor
word count: 5.6k
zoro m.list || anime m.list || ao3 || ko-fi
Game night was a mistake.
A HUGE mistake.
Especially when the moment Zoro cracked his knuckles across the table and gave you that look.
The one that says: I’m not losing.
You give him the exact same look back, because neither are you.
“Last round. With the three of you.” Nami announces smugly, shuffling the cards “Winner takes all.”
You and Zoro lean forward at the same time.
Competitive energy radiating like two angry thunderstorms about to collide.
Across from you, the rest of the crew watches with barely contained excitement.
This is not about the game anymore.
This is about pride.
Honor.
Ego.
And unfortunately… you remember you two aren't the only two playing. In fact, you both lose.
You stare at the table.
Zoro stares at the table.
Then slowly you both look up and scowl.
“Rigged.” you say flatly.
“Tch,” Zoro clicks his tongue “obviously.”
“Skill issue.” Sanji says immediately, lighting a cigarette.
“You’re just mad you didn’t even make it to the final round.” you snap.
He gasps like you stabbed him.
Zoro snorts.
You elbow him but he elbows back harder.
“Anyway,” Usopp claps loudly, eyes sparkling with chaos, “losers have to pay the price!”
You narrow your eyes “…Price?”
Zoro cracks his neck “Whatever it is, make it quick.”
Huge mistake.
The crew immediately huddles together in a tight circle, whispering like cartoon villains.
You and Zoro are left outside like two rejected bodyguards.
You cross your arms “This is stupid. Technically I arrived second. This doesn't mean losing… who made this dumb rule."
The circle breaks. They’re smiling. All of them. Even Nico Robin, which makes it worse… That woman only smiles when something dangerous is about to happen, you know.
Your instincts scream. Run.
“So…” Nami says sweetly, hands behind her back.
You don’t trust that tone.
“You both,” she continues, pointing between you and Zoro, “have to go on a date.”
“With who?” You ask innocently but as an answer everyone looks bad at you. Here you understand what they mean.
“No.”
“No.”
You and Zoro speak in perfect sync. Then pause to look at each other.
Scowl deeper.
“Absolutely not.” you add.
“Tch. Over my dead body.” he says.
“Aww,” Usopp fake-pouts “Are you two scared?”
You stiffen.
Zoro stiffens.
“We’re not scared.” you snap immediately.
“Yeah,” Zoro growls, “just not interested.”
Sanji smirks, “Then prove it.”
You narrow your eyes “Prove what?”
“That you’re not intimidated by a simple date.”
You feel your pride physically rise.
Zoro’s aura darkens beside you.
You both know what they’re doing, you both see their trap… but you both walk straight into it anyway.
“Fine, I'll show you.” you say.
“Tch. Fine.” Zoro echoes.
The crew explodes with cheering and capping.
You immediately regret everything.
And now… now you’re here. Sitting outside a cute pastry shop on some random island.
On a date.
With Zoro.
You hate everything.
The table is small and round.
Romantic.
Disgusting.
Both of you sit there, slouching like you’re attending a funeral.
You stare at the street.
He stares at the sky.
Neither of you looks at the other.
The silence is thick enough to cut with one of his swords.
“This is stupid.” you mutter.
“Tch. Obviously.”
You both keep looking away.
A couple walks past holding hands.
You both look even further away.
A bird chirps.
Then he speaks out of nowhere “You’re doing it wrong.”
You freeze and slowly turn your head “…Excuse me?”
He finally looks at you and smirks.
That stupid, smug, infuriating smirk “You usually would at least pretend you’re good at this. Just for the sake of winning for your own ego.”
Your eye twitches.
“I’d be good at it,” you snap, “if I wasn’t stuck here with you.”
“Oh yeah?” he leans forward slightly “You think you could do better and not be this boring?”
Your competitive instincts ignite instantly “Easily.”
He scoffs “Prove it.”
“Oh, I will.”
And just like that it becomes a competition.
“Oh wow,” you say dramatically, looking around, “this place is soooo nice.”
“Your acting is terrible.” he says flatly.
“At least I’m trying.”
“You’re trying too hard now.”
“You’re not trying at all.”
“Because I don’t need to.”
You gasp “Your ego is insane.”
“You noticed?”
“I noticed you’re insufferable.”
“Takes one to know one.”
You’re both leaning forward now and actually looking at each other.
“You’d be the worst date ever.” he says.
“You literally get lost walking in straight lines…” you reply.
“At least I don’t talk in my sleep.”
You freeze “…How do you even know that?”
He smirks wider.
You hate him so much.
Before the argument can escalate into an actual brawl a shadow falls over the table.
You both look up.
A sweet old lady stands there, smiling warmly, holding a tray of pastries.
“Here you go, dears.” she says kindly, placing them down.
You both stare at the pastries, then at each other, then back at her.
“…We didn’t order these.” you say cautiously.
She chuckles and points behind you “Those nice friends of yours sent them.”
You and Zoro turn slowly and there they are… at a table across the street… the entire crew.
Grinning.
Watching like it’s a live theater performance.
Luffy and Chopper are the only two completely oblivious, already inhaling sweets like vacuum cleaners.
Usopp gives you two thumbs up as if he's encouraging you two to continue.
Nami smiles and nods mockingly.
Sanji is just staring, he looks mad.
Brook is taking notes.
Robin and Franky smile like proud parents.
You feel your soul leave your body.
You turn back and Zoro is already scowling. Vein popping. Eye twitching.
You mirror him perfectly.
“I'm going to kill them.” you whisper.
“Tch,” he mutters darkly “I'll help.”
You both look at the pastries again. Then at each other.
Same thought.
You grab one.
He grabs one.
You both take a bite at the exact same time maintaining eye contact like it’s a declaration of war.
And somehow despite everything, the corner of his mouth twitches, like he’s trying not to laugh.
Which is unacceptable.
And just as you continue, the crew is whispering loudly. You hear snorts. You hear stifled laughter.
You hear Usopp failing miserably at whispering “I THINK THEY’RE MAKING EYE CONTACT—”
“SHUT UP!” someone hisses.
You close your eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out.
You lower the pastry.
“So.” you say flatly.
Zoro’s eye twitches “Yeah.”
“We should leave.”
“Yeah.”
You both stand at the same time, in perfect sync.
The old lady behind the counter smiles like she just witnessed a romance movie climax.
You feel a migraine forming.
You don’t even look at the crew as you walk away.
But you can feel them like a curse… a presence… a disturbance in the force.
You and Zoro walk side by side in silence, boots echoing against the cobblestone streets.
The city is lively.
You shove your hands into your pockets.
“This is still stupid.” you mutter.
“Tch. Obviously.”
At least he’s consistent.
You walk for a while.
You glance sideways.
Zoro is unusually calm. Hands in his pockets. Looking around lazily like this is just another day.
You narrow your eyes.
Why is he not mad while you’re furious? He should be furious too.
A loud crash echoes behind you, followed by a very familiar voice “OW—!”
You stop walking and you turn around, AND there they are… trying to hide behind a fruit stall but failing miserably.
Half the crew… not even subtle.
Usopp is crouched behind a basket that is clearly too small to hide him. Nami is pretending to inspect oranges while staring directly at you. Sanji is holding a newspaper upside down. And in the back Nico Robin waves calmly, like she’s not part of the crime.
You blink.
“…They’re still following us.” you say flatly.
“Tch. Idiots.” Zoro mutters, but he doesn’t sound mad.
That’s what gets you.
You slowly look at him.
He raises a brow “What?”
“…You’re not annoyed.”
“I am.”
“You don’t sound like it.”
He shrugs “Doesn’t matter.”
You narrow your eyes harder… suspicious.
And then a thought hits you. A terrible, brilliant, petty thought.
You slowly turn back toward the crew.
They immediately duck.
You smile.
Zoro notices instantly but instead of stopping you in whatever thing you're planning, he smirks.
You turn back forward and start walking again.
But now you have a mission.
They want a show? You’ll give them one.
You will make them regret this.
You suddenly grab Zoro’s sleeve “Come on.”
He blinks, surprised for half a second before letting himself be dragged along.
“Where are we going?” he asks lazily.
You don’t answer, you just march forward with purpose.
Behind you, the crew scrambles to follow.
You stop in front of the loudest, most chaotic street you can find. Music blasting. Performers shouting. Vendors yelling over each other.
You turn to Zoro with fake enthusiasm.
“Wow,” you say loudly “This is so romantic.”
He snorts.
You kick his foot lightly.
“Play along.” you whisper.
His grin widens. He’s enjoying this.
You spin dramatically and point at random things “Look! Matching bracelets!”
You grab the tackiest ones you can find and shove them toward him.
The vendor beams.
Zoro stares at them, then at you. Then, without breaking eye contact he puts one on.
Your brain short-circuits as you blink rapidly.
He raises a brow as to say, your move.
You feel your competitive spirit flare. You grab the other bracelet and slam it onto your wrist.
The vendor claps excitedly.
Somewhere behind you, you hear a choked noise that sounds like Usopp dying.
You keep going.
You drag Zoro to the loudest stalls. The weirdest shops. The most embarrassing spots.
You exaggerate everything. Fake gasp at ugly decorations. Overreact at cheesy couple items.
You even lean closer to him at one point just to make it worse for your not-so-invisible audience.
Your soul leaves your body a little, but the mission is bigger than your dignity.
Zoro is not helping at all.
He lets you pull him around like a ragdoll with hands in his pockets and that lazy smirk never leaving his face. Occasionally throwing in a comment just to make it worse.
“You’re really committed.” he mutters once.
You glare “Shut up.”
He chuckles.
You feel personally attacked.
You stop in front of a mirror at a random stall, pretending to inspect something shiny.
But really, you’re checking behind you and there they are.
Good. Let them watch.
Even if you have to destroy your own pride to make them regret this.
Beside you, Zoro watches you from the reflection, amused and quiet. And he has no intention of stopping.
As you keep on walking, as you’re mid-scheme, you see it.
You stop so suddenly Zoro almost walks into you.
Your eyes widen, your jaw drops and you gasp audibly and way too dramatically.
Zoro immediately narrows his eyes “What.”
You don’t answer because you’re already moving “No way—”
You bolt straight ahead.
Zoro watches you run like you’ve lost your mind. Then follows at a normal pace, hands still in his pockets, completely unbothered.
When he finally reaches you, you’re already standing in front of a game stall, practically vibrating.
It’s one of those festival booths with cheap prizes hanging everywhere.
Throw the rings and hit the targets to win something stupid.
You look like you just found heaven.
Zoro looks at the stall, then at you and then back at the stall.
“…Are you a kid?” he asks flatly.
You slowly turn your head toward him. Offended.
“You just don’t want to admit you’re a loser.”
And there it is the moment and the fatal blow.
Zoro’s eye twitches. His lazy smirk gone.
The swordsman who didn’t care five seconds ago? Dead.
You have awakened something.
“Tch,” he clicks his tongue, stepping forward “move.”
You grin.
Oh, it’s on.
Coins slam onto the counter.
The stall owner startles slightly but smiles nervously “W-welcome! Just throw the rings and—”
You’re already grabbing them.
Zoro grabs his own set.
Neither of you listens to the rules.
You don’t need rules.
You need victory.
Miss.
Miss.
Miss.
Clink.
Bounce.
Miss again.
You narrow your eyes.
Zoro frowns.
This is unacceptable.
Again.
And again.
And again.
You lean closer to the counter.
Zoro rolls his shoulders like he’s about to fight a war.
The stall owner laughs nervously “Ahaha… it’s just for fun—”
“I will win…” you mutter.
“Tch. Not before me.” Zoro snaps.
Time stops meaning anything.
People pass behind you watching with fear.
Somewhere, a performer shouts.
You hear none of it. You only hear the clink of rings, your own breathing and Zoro.
“You’re throwing wrong.” he says.
“You’re aiming wrong.” you fire back.
“At least I hit the table.”
“That’s not the goal!”
“Tch.”
You lose again.
You slam another coin down “Again.”
Zoro does the same.
The owner starts sweating.
“Y-you can try the shooting game instead—”
“No.”
“No.”
You and Zoro speak in sync.
Never looking away from the targets.
More throws. More misses.
Your frustration rises.
Zoro’s aura darkens.
You both lean so far over the counter you’re practically invading the stall.
The owner laughs weakly “Maybe… maybe take a break—”
You don’t hear him.
Neither does Zoro.
Because at this point it’s just you and him. And war.
You throw again.
Miss.
You snap “Is it rigged?? Damn!”
You slam your hands on the counter dramatically.
Zoro doesn’t even react, he just grabs another ring.
Eyes sharp.
Focused.
Terrifying.
The stall owner begins to panic. His smile drops completely.
You’re both still muttering under your breath, arguing between throws and competing like your lives depend on it.
Behind you, a small crowd has formed.
You don’t notice.
You don’t care.
“Stand back.” Zoro mutters, rolling his neck like he’s about to unleash a forbidden technique.
“It’s a ring toss.” you snap.
“Tch. Watch and learn.”
He throws.
Misses.
You gasp loudly “Pathetic.”
“SHUT UP.”
The stall owner looks like he’s about to cry. His hands tremble as he leans forward slightly, voice small “P-please leave…”
You grab another ring.
Zoro grabs another.
Neither of you acknowledges him.
Not even a glance.
You throw again.
Miss.
You slam the counter.
Zoro growls.
The owner looks like he’s reconsidering his entire career.
“Please,” he whispers again, voice shaking, “I beg you…”
But you and Zoro only hear each other, only see each other. Locked in the dumbest, fiercest battle imaginable.
And somewhere deep down, neither of you realizes you stopped caring about the crew watching a long time ago.
After many other tries you throw again but this time it wobbles.
You both lean forward at the exact same time.
The ring tilts. Balances.
And then it drops perfectly onto the bottle.
Silence.
You blink.
Zoro blinks.
The stall owner blinks.
“I GOT IT?!” You explode.
You jump up and down, hands in the air, laughing in pure disbelief “I GOT ONE IN!”
You spin around and, without thinking, grab Zoro by the shoulders “Did you see that?!”
He doesn’t jump, of course he doesn’t, but he’s looking at you and there’s a soft smirk on his face.
“Yeah,” he says quietly “I saw.”
Continue after illustration:
You’re still holding onto him when it hits you. You let go immediately, but you’re still grinning bright.
You don’t even realize that a minute ago you were trying to beat him and now you’re celebrating like you both won.
You turn back to the stall, scanning the prizes like you just unlocked a treasure vault.
And then you point dramatically where hanging slightly to the side there’s a plushie,
Green. Grumpy. Round little body. Perpetual scowl stitched onto its face.
You don’t even notice the resemblance, but Zoro and the stall owner do.
And somewhere behind you, someone snorts.
“I want that one.” you declare proudly.
The stall owner freezes.
He swallows “Y-you need three rings in for that…”
You turn slowly and your expression shifts from happy to calculating to dangerously competitive.
Everyone feels the aura change immediately.
You roll your shoulders slightly.
“Three?” you repeat.
The stall owner pales.
“B-But—!” he stammers quickly, hands flying up defensively “You tried so much! I-I’ll give it to you anyway! And— and I’ll give one of his choice to your boyfriend as well!”
Silence.
The word hangs there.
Boyfriend.
Your brain stops.
Your heart does something incredibly stupid.
You blink.
Heat creeps up your neck.
Beside you, Zoro stiffens just barely.
You glance at him.
He’s not correcting it. Not snapping. Not denying.
He’s just standing there, arms crossed, looking mildly annoyed at the implication but not offended. Not rejecting it.
Your chest tightens in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with competition, and you realize something terrifying… you don’t mind, not even a little.
“Oh…” you say weakly.
The stall owner nods rapidly, desperate to survive this interaction “Yes! Yes! Take anything! Please!”
You look back at the plushie then at Zoro.
He looks at the plushie then at you.
There’s a flicker in his eye.
He reaches up and grabs one from the side.
A different one.
The stall owner practically shoves the plushies into your hands like he’s paying a ransom “Thank you! Please enjoy the rest of the festival… far away from here!”
You don’t hear him.
You’re staring at the plushie in your arms. It’s soft, round and angry-looking.
You hug it instinctively.
Zoro watches you do it and that soft smirk of his returns.
You start walking away, quiet now.
The chaos of earlier is replaced with something… different.
Your heart is still beating a little too fast.
Your fingers brush against the plush as you hold it.
After a few steps, you notice Zoro is walking slightly closer than before.
Then without a word he holds out his plushie.
You blink “What?”
“Take it.”
“…Why?”
“Tch. I don’t need it.”
He doesn’t look at you when he says it, he just keeps walking, arm extended slightly in your direction.
You stare at the plush, then at him, then back at the plush.
Your heart does that stupid thing again.
You accept it quietly.
Your fingers brush his for half a second.
He exhales softly and you just pretend not to notice.
Now you’re holding both plushies.
You look at them, then up at him.
And for once you don’t hide your smile.
He catches it from the corner of his eye and doesn’t say anything, but the tips of his ears turn slightly red.
Behind you, somewhere in the distance, you hear faint whispering and dramatic gasps.
You don’t look back, you don’t care anymore, because as you walk beside him, plushies in your arms and something unfamiliar but not unwelcome blooming in your chest, you realize, quietly, that this stopped being about proving anything a while ago.
You walk back to the ship side by side.
Zoro walks with his usual lazy stride, hands in his pockets, expression neutral, like nothing life-altering just happened.
You reach the ship and go aboard.
Still no words about anything, just silence, but comfortable.
You stop near the stairs that lead below deck.
“…Night.” you say casually.
“...Night.”
That’s it. No dramatic pause. No lingering touch.
You turn and head to your room.
Behind you, hidden very badly behind barrels and ropes, half the crew deflates in disappointment.
“THAT’S IT?!” someone whispers aggressively.
“No kiss?!” another hisses.
You don’t hear or see them, because you’re too busy trying to understand why your chest feels warm.
Why you’re smiling, why replaying the night makes your stomach flip in a way that’s not annoyance.
You flop onto your bed, staring at the ceiling.
“…Why am I feeling like this…” you mutter.
The plushies sit beside you.
You bury your face into them to hide your smile and that’s when it hits you that you didn’t hate tonight.
You just… liked being there… with him.
The next morning is a disaster.
You step into the dining area and immediately freeze.
Everyone is there.
Brook leans forward eagerly, teacup in hand.
“Good morning!” he sings “May I ask how your romantic evening was? Yohohoho!”
You contemplate throwing him overboard.
“SUPER curious!” Franky flexes dramatically “Was it SUPER romantic?!”
“Did you hold hands?” Usopp demands.
“Did you confess?” Nami adds sweetly.
“Did you fight?” Sanji asks suspiciously.
You inhale slowly and exhale slowly.
You sit down and say nothing, you just start eating very calmly as they continue relentless.
“You brought back matching plushies!” Usopp points accusingly.
Your eye twitches but you keep eating.
Across the table Zoro sits like nothing is happening, drinking tea or whatever’s in the cup, calm and unbothered, not even reacting to the chaos.
The only difference from other mornings is that he isn't teasing you.
He just looks… anywhere but at you.
That’s new.
Days pass and something changes.
Zoro still trains, naps, gets lost somehow on the ship, and argues with Sanji…
But with you he’s… different. Less sharp and less provoking. If you reach for something, he doesn’t snatch it first as he used to. If you say something competitive, he just hums instead of biting back as he used to.
If you challenge him, he lets you win.
You stare at him suspiciously but he avoids your gaze.
You preferred the fighting and its sparks.
Now it feels like he’s stepping back, like he’s giving you space you didn’t ask for.
And you hate that.
One afternoon, you find him alone on deck, sitting against the railing with sunlight hitting his face, sleeping or pretending.
You approach. Arms crossed.
“Are you sick?” you ask bluntly.
One eye opens.
“…What.”
“You’ve been weird.”
“Tch.”
“That’s not a denial.”
He sits up slightly “You’re imagining things.”
“No, I’m not.”
Silence.
You step closer “What’s going on?”
He looks away and scratches the back of his neck “Nothing.”
You narrow your eyes “Zoro.”
He inhales, about to speak, and then—
“NEW ISLAND!” Luffy screams from the crow’s nest.
Everyone rushes, excited yelling, footsteps thundering past you.
But you don’t move and neither does Zoro.
You’re still looking at each other with something unsaid hanging heavy between you.
He stands.
Still silent.
Soon, the ship docks.
Everyone spills out eagerly.
You start walking toward the town when—“Y/N.”
You freeze.
He rarely calls your name like that.
Quiet.
Almost hesitant.
You turn.
He’s standing a few steps behind, not looking at you but looking somewhere to the side, like the sky is extremely interesting all of a sudden.
“…You… wanna go eat something?” he mutters.
You blink.
You don’t answer.
Your brain refuses to function.
At the silence, he finally looks at you and sees your shocked expression.
His jaw tightens slightly.
“It’s fine,” he mutters quickly “I’ll go alone.”
He turns but you grab his sleeve “Wait.”
He stops and looks at your hand, then at you.
“…I’ll go.” you say.
His shoulders relax just slightly “Tch. Good.”
You both start walking side by side.
The town is lively but it feels quieter to you.
After a moment, you glance at him “So…”
He grunts.
“…Is it a date?”
He stops walking instantly.
You stop as soon as you notice.
His head snaps toward you, eyes wide for a fraction of a second “What?”
You laugh lightly “Relax. I’m joking.”
You quickly continue to walk so he doesn’t see your expression as you say “...but I wouldn’t mind if it was.”
You say it casually but your heart is trying to escape your body.
You hear his footsteps rush behind you.
Suddenly a firm hand grabs your wrist.
You turn, surprised and see him close.
His grip isn’t rough but steady and certain.
He looks at you directly.
No more avoidance.
“Then it is.” he says quietly.
You blink.
He exhales “…A date.”
Silence.
Your brain melts but somehow you relax and a soft smile spreads across your face “Perfect.”
He lets go slowly.
You both turn and start walking again like nothing monumental just happened.
Like your hearts aren’t lighter.
Like your steps aren’t a little closer.
Like this isn’t exactly what you both wanted all along.
The restaurant is loud and perfectly pirate-coded. No fancy decorations. No romantic lighting. Just noise, food, and the smell of grilled meat.
Exactly the kind of place neither of you has to pretend in.
You sit across from each other, but unlike last time, none of you is scowling.
Zoro rests one arm on the table. You sit with your hands loosely folded, pretending the menu is the most fascinating thing you’ve ever read.
Silence. Not hostile. Just shy.
You glance up and he’s already looking at you but he immediately looks back at the menu.
You blink.
A few seconds later, he looks up again and your eyes meet. Neither of you smirks or challenges, it’s softer than that.
Then the waiter arrives and breaks the tension.
You both order quickly.
When the waiter leaves, you sit there in silence again.
“So…” you start.
“So.” he echoes.
You both pause.
You clear your throat “Training’s been… good?”
“Tch. Obviously.”
You nod “Right.”
Silence.
He shifts slightly in his seat “You’ve been winning more lately.”
You narrow your eyes “You’ve been letting me.”
He huffs faintly “You noticed.”
“Of course I noticed.”
A small pause.
“…Why?” you ask.
He looks at you then away “Didn’t feel like fighting.”
Your chest does something strange at that “Oh.”
Food arrives.
You both focus on eating for a moment and it helps. Talking with food around feels less intense.
You exchange small comments about the seasoning. About the island. About how Luffy is probably already banned from three establishments.
You’re still shy but it’s not heavy, just new.
Then the drinks arrive and you stare at yours, then at him.
Then you sigh dramatically “Okay, that’s enough.”
He pauses mid-sip “What.”
“We’re being weird.”
“Tch.”
“We just have to relax,” you insist “So let’s drink a bit, okay?”
A slow smirk appears on his face.
There it is, the Zoro you know.
He lifts his glass “Fine.”
Clink.
You drink, not a lot but enough to take the edge off.
He sets his glass down and you follow.
Something shifts, your shoulders loosen, his posture eases.
You start talking again. You tease him about getting lost on the way here and he denies it.
You call him out and he calls you stubborn.
You call him worse and he smirks.
You both laugh.
At some point you’re leaning forward slightly and he is too.
Later, you step outside.
The air hits cooler after the warmth of the restaurant.
You walk side by side, not touching but close.
Your hands brush once and neither of you comments.
You reach the quieter part of the dock.
The ship is visible in the distance.
You both slow down as neither of you seems eager to climb back aboard yet.
You lean lightly, looking out at the water.
He stands beside you close enough that you can feel his warmth through the fabric of your sleeve.
You glance at him and he’s already looking at you this time.
Your heart beats faster.
“…This was nice.” you admit softly.
“Yeah.”
You smile faintly.
Another pause. Longer this time.
Neither of you moves. Neither of you steps closer. But you don’t step away either.
Your hand shifts slightly on the railing and his fingers brush yours again.
Your pinky hooks lightly against his.
He still doesn’t move but his hand turns just enough that your fingers slide into his palm.
You lace them together.
He exhales slowly.
Your heart is loud in your ears.
You’re so close now that you can see the faint scar over his eye clearly.
You don’t plan it, you don’t announce it. You just lean in slightly.
He notices but he doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t rush forward either.
You’re both terrible at initiating.
So you don’t… not fully. Instead, you lift your free hand and rest it against his chest, right over his heart.
It’s steady. Strong.
He inhales sharply at the contact and his hand tightens around yours.
You look at each other.
So close.
“If you don’t want to…” you start quietly but he cuts you off by leaning down enough that his forehead rests against yours. His nose brushes yours slightly. Breath mingling.
“You talk too much.” he murmurs.
Your lips twitch “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Neither of you moves for a second longer, like you’re both silently asking the same question.
Then you both close the distance at the exact same time.
It’s almost clumsy and hesitant, but warm.
His hand slides to your waist.
Yours tightens against his chest.
The kiss is firm but careful.
When you pull back, you’re both breathing a little heavier, foreheads still touching.
You smile first. He pretends he didn’t notice but he doesn’t let go and neither do you.
EPILOGUE
The walk back to the ship is quiet.
Not awkward, just… calm.
You and Zoro walk side by side along the dock. Your shoulders brush once in a while, but neither of you comments on it… neither of you needs to.
When the Thousand Sunny finally comes into view, you both slow down a little.
The ship is mostly quiet, a few lights are on.
You stop at the foot of the ramp.
Zoro looks at the ship, then at you.
“Well…” he says.
“Well…” you echo.
A beat of silence.
Neither of you says “so we’re together now” or “what are we going to tell them?”.
You just… look at each other and then you shrug “Goodnight.”
He almost laughs and then he nods once “Night.”
You both walk up onto the Sunny and that’s it. No announcement. No dramatic reveal.
You just go to your rooms.
The next morning, nobody asks anything because they don’t know… and neither of you brings it up. Not because you’re hiding it. It just… never comes up.
You still argue with Zoro. You still compete with him. You still sit across from him at meals.
Sometimes your knees bump under the table. Sometimes your hands brush when you both reach for something. Sometimes you catch him watching you. Sometimes he catches you watching him. Sometimes you kiss when no one is around.
The crew is completely oblivious.
Somehow even Robin, who probably knows but chooses chaos.
Weeks pass.
The Sunny sails through calm blue seas and life goes on.
Then one day… “GAME NIGHT!!!”
Luffy’s voice explodes across the deck.
The crew cheers and somehow you all end up around the big table.
Cards, dice, snacks, chaos.
And of course you and Zoro would never skip a competition.
Hours pass.
Rounds are played.
People get eliminated.
Luffy gets distracted halfway through by meat.
Chopper loses because he keeps trusting Usopp.
Franky dramatically blames the rules.
Sanji gets eliminated early and spends the rest of the time glaring.
Eventually it’s down to two players.
You and Zoro.
The crew leans in.
The atmosphere is intense.
Usopp is commentating dramatically.
Chopper and Luffy are vibrating with excitement.
“FINAL ROUND!!!” Usopp announces.
You lean forward, eyes sharp.
Zoro leans back in his chair, smirking “Tch. Ready to lose?”
You scoff “In your dreams.”
“Been winning a lot lately.”
“Because I’m better.”
He raises an eyebrow “Or because I’ve been going easy on you.”
You gasp in mock offense “Oh please.”
The crew oooohs.
Luffy is yelling something dumb.
Usopp shouts, “THE TENSION IS REAL!”
You point at Zoro.
“Don’t worry,” you say confidently “I’m gonna kiss you anyway even if you’re a loser.”
Silence.
Total.
Absolute.
Silence.
Every Strawhat freezes.
Usopp and Nami’s mouths hang open.
Chopper blinks.
Sanji drops the plate he was holding.
Brook stops mid-laugh.
Robin smiles.
Franky’s sunglasses slide slightly down his nose.
Luffy tilts his head “…Huh?”
Your brain catches up with your mouth… way too late.
You slowly look around and see nine pairs of eyes staring at you. Wide. Horrified. Curious. Exploding.
And then—BOOM.
“WAIT WHAT—”
“YOU WHAT?!”
“WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?!”
“YOU KISS?!”
“ARE YOU DATING?!”
“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US?!”
“WAS IT ROMANTIC?!”
“WHO CONFESSED FIRST?!”
“DID YOU HOLD HANDS?!”
“DID YOU—”
You slowly slam your face onto the table.
Thud.
“…I hate all of you…”
The yelling continues. Questions fly over your head like cannon fire.
You stay face-down on the table, accepting your fate.
Then a warm hand lands gently on your head.
You look up and look at Zoro who is completely unfazed.
He smirks down at you.
The crew is still shouting too loudly to hear anything else.
He leans down slightly, close enough that only you can hear him.
His voice is low and amused “Told you you talk too much.”
You glare weakly and he smirks wider.
Then he adds quietly “But you’re keeping that promise… the kiss?”
Your brain short-circuits and before you can make your brain function you casually lean in and kiss him.
Right there… in front of everyone.
The crew explode.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”
Sanji collapses dramatically.
Chopper screams.
Usopp falls out of his chair.
Franky shouts “SUUUUUPERRRRR!!!”
Luffy claps like this is the best game night ever.
You bury your face in your hands as soon as you understand what you just did.
Zoro just sits back down like nothing happened but he's obviously dying inside and somehow you're both still fully ready to win the game.
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a character who truly, legitimately goes “but why does that matter?” about their feelings when someone who cares about them asks. and the sudden falling of everyone around them’s faces as they realize that this person doesn’t recognize themself as someone who needs or should be taken care of. i want Everyone to hurt. surprise at the idea, worry for them, horror at not having noticed. do you see this person who doesn’t think of themselves as a person?
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realizing a headcanon of yours happens to make an element of canon even more heartbreaking when you hadn't even considered it from that angle previously
[ID from alt: emoji rubbing their hands together and grinning evilly. End ID.]
for ages, he’s spent countless hours by himself. whether it be during battle, at sea, or simply within the quiet croaks of his castle.
and for a long time, mihawk thought that he’d prefer the silence. that it was better to be alone, as it created less issues. or maybe it was that it’s easier to keep everyone at arms length than let them in.
i guess maybe it was just his lack of trust. how was he supposed to trust anyone in a world like this?
somewhere along the lines, he ran into you.
mihawk can remember the exact moment he laid his eyes on you. it lays vivid in his memory.
beautiful legs that were accentuated by those black strappy heels. a figure of a goddess. lips painted in a dark blood red, tempting him to smear it with his lips and fingers. and most of all, eyes that made him feel like he was drowning in something unknown.
you quickly began to make a mess of mihawk’s life. or maybe his mind. or maybe his heart. whatever it was, mihawk wasn’t sure how he survived this long without you.
and today, as he returns home after a cross guild meeting he sees you in your shared bedroom. wearing a black thin silk robe with lace on the edges.
you sat on your vanity. soft music played off the record player. you had just completed your makeup, and were putting on a pair of earrings that mihawk had bought you for your wedding anniversary.
mihawk got drunk off the sight of you. divine creature, bewitching his mind, body, and heart.
how could this feeling be real.
within a moment, you noticed mihawk staring at you through the mirror.
“dracule,” you said breathlessly.
you turned your head to face him. his gaze was so sharp, always so laser focused. and it made your heart thump.
sometimes it’s hard to believe this is real.
mihawk walked closer to you. he reached out for your hand, slowly pressing a soft kiss.
mihawk thought he didn’t understand what soft meant before you. he thought everything in life was supposed to be done harsh and rough. but with something as delicate as you, how could he be anything but soft?
you were the reason for every breath. you were the reason for the end of every battle he fought. you were the reason he fought carefully. you were the reason he saw good.
deep down, you were the only thing that kept him bound to the world.
“i say we skip this gala, darling wife,”
“and what do you propose we do instead?”
you were both standing now. you stood so closely together, eyes intently staring at each other. his hands lay tight on your waist, as if you were his anchor.
in turn, you placed both of your hands softly on either sides of his face. it grounded both of you.
for a moment, mihawk really didn’t think.
i mean how could he, when his eyes were locked on yours. pools of thoughts and lust we’re gathered in his mind.
“dracule?”
mihawk softly placed his head against yours. and he began to move slowly, so that you both ended up dancing to the melody playing softly.
and in this moment, mihawk could only think of one thing. how incredibly lucky he was.
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