Entertain Yourself.

“Can we... uh... go out, then?” You scratched the back of your head. Mello’s eyes dragged across the room until they met yours. You twiddled your fingers together. 

“Why?” He rested his chin between his digits. You glanced around, making sure to scan the calendar to double-check a clearly true fact. 

“It’s my birthday, so I thought maybe we can do something.” Mello twisted in his seat and crossed his leg over the other. Elbow angles against the corner of the table, the hand of the same arm rested above his mouth. “Please? It can be something small. Dinner, or something.” He sighed. 

“Alright,” he agreed. “Take your pick, then.” Your smile grew and he rolled his eyes at the joy sparking on your features. “Don’t get too excited. It’s not that big of a deal, but,” he stressed, “don’t get any funny ideas, got it?” 

You were giddy while you finished fixing yourself up in the mirror. It’s been months since you’ve properly gone out anywhere, much less a date. The excitement of checking yourself out in the mirror (a few moments of self-deprecation, but compared to the last few months of work and stress, it was refreshing to look like a human again.) and the pile of failed outfits on top of your bed was so relieving. 

“Are you done?” 

“Are you done?” Mello always looked good, and there wasn’t any mystical reason as to why, so when he walked into the room in lieu of an invitation, you weren’t surprised to find him in all black, tight-fitting clothes. His eyes flickered from your face to your feet, then back to your head. “Looks like you are.” 

“We’re going to be late if you spend two more seconds in front of that mirror. What do you think is going to change? Whatever detail you fix will inevitably fall back down before we get there.” You shot him a glare. “You’re the one that asked to go out, and now you’re lagging behind.”

“Sorry, I haven’t gone out in a while! I wanted to look nice. For...” you cleared your throat, “you.”

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.” You clicked your tongue. 

“Get a better glove next time then.” You twisted towards him. “Okay, done!” Spreading your arms wide, you presented yourself. “How do I look?”

“Presentable. Let’s go, then. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get back. The sooner so many people’s eyes will be off you.” He scowled. “Anyone looks at you for more than five seconds, I’m going to eradicate them.” You hummed and slipped on your shoes, using Mello’s shoulder for balance. Before you can take it off, however, his hand clasped your wrist tightly. He brought it towards his mouth and, without breaking intense eye contact, slotted a kiss between your knuckles. “I hope the place you chose is adequate.”

Adequate. Well, that’s not the exact words you would use for your favorite local restaurant, but that’s the reason why you loved it. After stressful days, you used to always find yourself here. The bar, for some reason, no matter the day, would be stock full of patrons. Most were regulars or friends of the owner until you eventually became friends with the owner too.

“Y/N! Wow, we haven’t seen you in a while! Who’s this?” Mello scowled next to you. Most likely because of the weekend crowd and the heavy smoke permeating the air. This definitely was not the type of place he frequented. 

“This is Mello. We’ve been together a few months now.” The regular smiled and regarded him. Mello’s grimace must have kept him from saying anything else since his focus quickly focused back on you. 

“Ah, I see. Get a boyfriend and you abandon us!” You laughed politely and scanned the floor for an open booth. One nestled in the corner, though still dirty from the previous occupants, was open. You smiled and offered him a few more concise words before leading Mello to the corner. 

“It’s disgusting in here.” 

“Food is nice and greasy. You can just get dessert if you want, though. It doesn’t matter to me. What does though is,” you nodded over to the nearby crowd huddled around a single table, “is that. I haven’t gambled in so long. I wonder if I still got it in me.” You dug your hand into your jacket pocket and pulled out the wrinkled, thinning plastic bag full of poker chips. “Doubt it, though.”

“You play poker?” You set the bag on the table. 

“Yeah. Got into it a few years ago. I’m terrible, though. Luckily, they don’t play for high stakes. Just shots or drinks or buying a round for the group.” He snatched the bag and rolled it around in his hands. “Not that many, I know, but I think I can maybe end the night even. Hopefully.” 

After your old-time favorite comfort meal and Mello’s dessert, you rose from the table with Mello following like a shadow. A few of the spectators you recognized greeted you before growing silent after making eye contact with Mello. A few eyes trained on him. Naturally. You didn’t even need to look back to know he was glaring at them. You grinned while approaching the table. “Deal me in the next round?”

“Y/N,” oh my - How did you not notice him? A devilish smirk on his face, he waved. “I didn’t expect you to be here. You haven’t been here in a long while. I missed you, babe.” You glanced to Mello. His eyebrow shot up and he stared at him. “Still mediocre?” 

“As if... yes...” You scratched the back of your head. “But it’s fun, so,” you shrugged. 

“Of course. I’m sure our pal can deal you in real soon. Just wait your little butt there.” ...Little? Mello hummed next to you but said nothing to acknowledge the aggravation on his face. Once a seat opened up, you sat yourself down. Mello’s hand rested on the back of it. Occasionally, the movement of his fingers would graze across your shoulder. “No cheating from the goth behind you, got it?”

“As if.” 

You tried to ignore the sultry gaze and sugary words from his mouth through the rounds. Not for your sake, but for the sake of the person lurking behind you. Mello didn’t deal with competition so well. You sighed. Maybe I shouldn’t have indulged too much.

Turns out you needed help from the goth behind you. They really managed to swingle you every time. By the number of chips remaining, you would only last two more rounds, and you didn’t want to go back empty-handed. “One more. Then I’m done. I can’t go home without anything. I’m nearly out of cash at this point. My pride would hurt too much.” 

“Alright, alright,” your old acquaintance said. “We just won’t use money or rounds or anything. Winner gets,” he hummed, “your underwear.” Normally, you’d say yes. Who really gave a shit? But that normally was before you and Mello became a thing. You shook your head. 

“Sure,” Mello answered. You paused, turning to him in bewilderment. His face was entirely serious. “One more round.” Did...did he know you’re probably going to fucking lose? Was he that pissed at you that he didn’t care? “It’s no problem, right?” He looked down at you. His eyes widened just a hair for just a second. What was he thinking?

As he flipped his hand at the very end, your stomach dropped. Mello’s face remained the same, however. Even as you stood to... follow through with the demands. Though, as soon as you stepped away from the chair, Mello slid into it, hands folded on the table. 

“One more,” he said. "Stakes are they keep their things, and you don’t look at them ever again. Not even a glance.” He paused. “That goes for every fucker in this shithole,” Mello called. You didn’t get a word in before he urged them to deal. 

He was... he was probably joking, right? 

You replaced Mello’s standing space behind the chair. On it, he leaned back cooly, legs spread with one bend up on the chair’s cushion, the other spread outwards on the ground. The cards in his hand close to himself, you were not able to get a good look at them with the downwards angle. 

“...Royal flush,” he said in the end, the cards sliding into a half circle into the table. Silence. “Did you all not remember the stakes here? Anyone even looks at them, I’ll carve your eyes from your head.” Mello rose, hand clasping yours, and dragged you out of the establishment. You were sure everyone would be glaring in your direction if they were able to look at you. You guessed it didn’t matter if you didn’t pay. It wasn’t like you were going back here ever again.

Once into the brisk air, you ripped your wrist from his hand. 

“What the fuck was that?” You hissed. 

“What the fuck was that? What about you bringing me here to watch all those greasy men leer at you like some piece of candy? What about you letting that fuck do and say anything he wanted? What the fuck was that?” His fingers gripped your chin. “Who do you belong to?” 

“W-what?” 

“Did I stutter?” At your lack of answer, he tightened his grip. “Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Yes, me.” Mello ripped his hand from your chin and dug it into his pocket. “I’ll make sure you know. I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” He pulled a switchblade from his pocket. 

“Mello, no -,” 

“Stay here.”

“Please,” 

Near vs Mello after L's sister

🍫🎲I see first of all L being extremely overprotective and overly cautious over his sister, she's the only family he has left and he has a dangerous job, so no wonder. In order for Light to not have you killed as well since you might just be as intelligent or damn close to it like L used to be, you would have to not be involved, at least not physically, in order to not be killed by Light as well. L might have not wanted you to live the same life he lived, but would also not be opposed of the thought of asking you for help if needed. But he never mentioned you to anyone, the only person who knew was Watari and maybe also Roger Ruvie, though the only person who knows your real name and face are L and Watari.

🍫🎲You most likely live somewhere far away, secretly with only few people knowing how you look and you use most likely an alias as well. You probably don't get to see your brother very often so the news of his death would hit hard, even if you never got to have a real emotional bond with him. But he was still your only family. You wouldn't overreact though, but you might just try to finish what your brother couldn't by finding out who Kira is and making sure that they'll go to jail for their crimes. You would be still a child when he died though, maybe about 13 or 14? Somewhere that age, close to how old Mello and Near were at that time. I don't think you were a part of the Wammy's house though, as I said, I believe that L would want to let his sister have a really normal childhood, though there would be people surrounding you who know how to deal with you. I still believe that he might also consider you as a secret third possible successor of him.

🍫🎲So both of them didn't know that you existed at first, only a handful of people knew and they were not included. But both were determined to catch Kira, although for different reasons. Mello only wanted to reveal the identity of Kira so he could finally prove that he was better than Near, who had constantly won against him. Near on the other hand wanted to finish what the previous L had started.

🍫🎲Both searched for any sorts of hints and records L might have left, even the smallest, unsignificant looking thing was important now. Both went with different methods, Near with tracking everything in the internet down and Mello as a part of the mafia with violence and threatening. I still believe that Near would be the one who would find out about you since he is the more calm and thoroughly type whilst Mello tends to overlook things and doesn't go as deep as Near does. It doesn't have to be much, a simple address or name has Near already intensely searching for more informations.

🍫🎲Mello might need a bit longer until he manages to collect such a valuable information, but he will also definitely hunt down whatever he's found, he's almost obsessed with the thought of finally just being able to beat Near once in his life, being able to know that he finished what the previous L couldn't and Near wasn't able to solve faster than him. It isn't really for the sake of impressing anyone, but more because he wants to finally feel like he's stepped out of Near's shadow because deep down he has self-insecurities.

🍫🎲Well, both of them can't really say that they are surprised, there were many rumors and unknown things about L. Mello would be probably the one who's first reaction was the most surprised whilst Near would instantly be fascinated with you. Furthermore I would say whilst Mello was at first more focused on getting possible informations out of you which might help the case, Near was next to that also majorly curious about you. He was interested if you were just as intelligent as L was and what relationship you used to have with your brother as well as your personality.

🍫🎲You might have known them from letters and mails L had written you before, so you might know their real names and background stories beforehand, though never having seen their faces before. And you most likely expected them to find out about you at one time since L had chosen them as possible successors for him for a reason.

🍫🎲Given Mello's and Near's ideal types, in my opinion at least, you would have to be someone who is motherly and kind, caring for those around her. It would feed perfectly into their needy tendencies though it's not impossible for them to fall for another personality too. Whillst Near might have been the one who found out first about you and found you definitely faster, Mello is the one you would come face to face with first. Near most likely already developed a small obsession with you the moment you knew you existed and stalked you at first more rather than approaching you. Squeezed every bit of information out he could find, though things like your real name and birthday were all faked, but there would be a couple of informations about you since you live at least a semi-normal life just like your brother wanted you to be.

🍫🎲It had been pretty much years since Near had seen Mello again and he wasn't as careless to think Mello wouldn't find out about you, he just didn't expect him to figure everything out so quickly. Or maybe he had just gotten a bit lost in these new feelings he had experienced recently whenever seeing you that he had lost slight touch with reality. And Mello had most likely just as well expected that Near had found you before him, although not wanting to admit this. He had just started thinking at one point unconsciously that Near would always be faster than him. So even though judging from your reaction he had been the first one to talk to you, he knew that guy was watching.

🍫🎲The two were most likely the one who reunited them after many years, you were after all curious about meeting the two people L had chosen as his possible successors next to you. Mello was definitely not happy with this, not willing to share possible information you had no recordings and mails about with the boy he wanted so desperately beat. It was visible from the reaction he gave you, being extremely harsh and spitting threats if you wouldn’t tell him. In the end he had to agree, be that because you were able to outsmart him with your words, because there are people who have been protecting you since a very young age or because Near had someone following you and spying on you. You might have even counted on that, you knew you had been folllowed.

🍫🎲You were quite honest with them, telling them that you were one what of a third option as the next L, making Mello see you at first as a rival before you told whilst you would be up to help solving cases, it would be more as a connection rather than having the title. This case was personal for you too, it was your brother who had been killed and even you might have brought up the idea of them working together, what Mello refused to do. So in the end you just gave them all possible information and secret messages that L might have given you before he died. You offered both of them help, you did not care who solved this case, you just wanted justice for your dead brother.

🍫🎲Near was most likely the one who asked you to travel to Japan, the place where Kira lived and L had died. And you agreed, you had offered help after all. So you crossed paths with them quite often, either being called or one of them visiting you to discuss something personally with you since that would be the safer method.

🍫🎲Near had a small obsession the moment he had discovered that L has a small sister and he had stalked you a bit before, making his infatuation already grow. But it would be after meeting you a few times personally that would really make him realize that he is in love, heart fluttering and whole body heating up when near you. Near wants a motherly and kind darling who shows him affection and kindness since he never really received it. Near is codependent to say the least, he might be a genius, but needs to be taken care off.

🍫Mello would need a bit longer, though there is a rather easy way to make him fall hard. That is if his darling treats him like he is equal to Near and not only second. It is what Mello had to hear and endure his whole life, it led him to having a inferiority complex. So the part that you are L’s little sister would play a really important part in here as well. Because you are the sibling of THE L, the one he was chosen as a possible successor as. Your words mean much, very much. He would try to just downplay his feelings when noticing, but whenever he is near you, he gets flustered.

🍫🎲In general the fact that L was your brother would change a lot than with a normal darling. First of all, there is the fact that both of them dearly respect you. You are after all the one sibling of the person they wanted to become the successor from and were trained for it since their earliest days and you possessing the same intelligence, though not striking to use it like your brother did. It almost leads both of them to the point of idolizing you and looking up to you, which somewhat influences their behavior. Both of them seem to listen to you much more and the chances of one of them kidnapping you goes significantly down, as long as something doesn’t happen that is. They seem to behave whenever talking to you.

🍫🎲Still though, they aren’t blind to the fact that the other one likes you as well which brings especially in Mello a huge storm of emotions out. Understand that he has been always been the neglected one, always been put as second. So he will definitely not lose to him in love as well, not now that he found a person who treats him equally and doesn’t compare him to that white-haired boy. Near is more calm about this, but he is possessive and so he will certainly also not lose.

🍫🎲It’s a rivalry between the two of them now, but they won’t show it too openly when being forced to be with each other and you are in the same room. Due to them seeing you as their personal idol, every compliment and acknowledgement you give them is important, especially for Mello who even tends to underestimate himself because of Near. He is desperate whilst Near is simply needy for affection and praises. There might even be this kind of mentality that they want you to choose the next L, it was your brother who was the previous one. They do not really care what your brother might have told you about them, that’s not the important thing here. What they want to know is who you think off as the more worthy one. Not because of the position they will gain through that, but because they want to know who you see as the better one.

🍫🎲Different than with L and Light, I also see the possibility of sharing as higher in general with them, though I suppose that your relationship with L will also play a huge role in it. Both of them don’t have the real need to kill each other like Light had with L and whilst Mello clearly expressed a huge dislike to Near, it was also shown in the Anime that he is ready to work with him together, Near also never hated him the way he did. He even wanted to work together with him.

🍫🎲In a normal scenario without you being a special someone it would be because it’s a terrible tug and war game, there’s the chance that you might be ripped more than once back and forth between them which not only tires them and their forces out, but also you. In this scenario it is simply because you are too clever, knowing about their not normal feelings. And you can most likely pinpoint at which point you will have to distance yourself before something bad happens, plus the fact that you definitely have a few valuable connections. Whilst their high respect for you might take them for a bit, eventually a time will come where one of them will snap, most likely Mello. And the two of them also know that you have far more brain than you might show at first, a smart move from your side. And knowing from stories how much of a genius your brother was, they can only predict what knowledge you might hide. It would be tricky to kidnap you, much less ensuring you stay since you would most likely figure out a plan in no time.

Your heat had subsided about a day prior, and you were still recovering from the intensity of the heat. He’d enjoyed your heat even more now that he’d claimed you. Somehow your cries were sweeter, your lust more unslakable, and your cunt tighter than he had remembered. Shanks knew the likelihood of you becoming pregnant was still low due to your physical health. Even so the thought of filling you with his child until your belly gently rounded was keeping him hard in between rounds of sex with you. Something primal was driving him, and now that he’d sated the need to claim you it was pushing him to breed you.

Still, this heat was more challenging for you than the last one had been. This heat had been difficult for you given the proximity to the previous one but it was worth it for Shanks to claim you. Your body had driven you hard, and by the end you were crying from exhaustion even as you begged him to take you again. He had let you set the pace and even the positions, though he took back over once you ran out of steam. Shanks was empathetic that you were so sore and depleted during your heat, but there wasn’t anything to do except ride it out. He didn’t know if he should put you on the drugs again or if your cycles would even out naturally now that you were mated, but he was leaning towards the latter.

Shanks had enjoyed his time with you while you were blissed out, but what he really wanted to see was if his Commands stuck with you when you were in your right mind. He wanted you to love him, the way that he loved you and not to have to be told to do it. And he was sure you would with time.

Because the mating bond had formed.

He felt it right away, from the moment a tenuous strand pulled you to him in between rounds of heat sex. It felt like the silvery thread of a spider’s web, like it would break with any sudden movement. Despite his excitement, Shanks hadn’t noticed any significant changes brought about by the bond during your heat. He felt a faint twinge of your need or arousal as the heat coursed through your veins, but nothing like what had been described in the book Hongo had given him. It was a little disappointing at first but Shanks had hopes that it would deepen once your heat ended. Even so, he carefully shielded you from the intensity of his own feelings, not wanting to confuse you while you were in a vulnerable state.

Shanks looked down at you as you slept on his chest, your loose limbs wrapped around his torso as if to keep him from leaving. Even after your heat had subsided, you asked Shanks to stay with you while you recovered, a stark shift from your usual tactics of closing yourself off. Maybe his Commands had paid off and you were feeling the stirrings of love, and not just from the mating bond. Either way, Shanks reveled in your clinginess, lying next to you as your small snores filled the cabin. 

Shanks smiled as you shifted in your sleep, your head moving to the side, revealing one of the scars from your claiming bite. He ran his fingers over the deep puncture wounds, still red and angry from when he’d bitten you a few days prior. Shanks’ cock stirred with the memory of giving them to you, biting through the toughened skin that bore the evidence of your previous Alpha. Now there was nothing left of Kid’s mark, just as there was nothing left of the man himself. Shanks had personally erased him from your life and replaced Kid’s presence with his own. 

You fussed as Shanks continued touching the scar, a whimper escaping your mouth as your brow creased. He even felt a small stab of pain coming through the bond, though he was easily able to tell it wasn’t his own. Interesting. Shanks stopped touching it and pulled you closer to him, planting a kiss on the top of your head. You settled in immediately, finding your ease in his presence as he knew you would. Shanks tried sending the feeling of comfort and warmth down the bond, but he didn’t know if it would actually do anything. But that didn’t matter, you’d feel better either way. Because you were his now, and everything would be alright.

And after a few days, much to Shanks’ joy, the bond had deepened. 

Shanks had been reading more of that book Hongo had found, poring over the section about the mating bond. It seemed that it could vary based on the strength and relationship of the mates, which boded well for Shanks. He wanted to feel your emotions, but also wanted to shield you from his own at times. After all, he was one of the strongest people in the world, and could see brief glimpses of the future with his haki. It wouldn’t do to alarm you with useless information or bombard you with events you couldn’t affect. Still, it soothed him to know he would be able to read you and in return allow you a few small glimpses into his own emotions.

Shanks could now feel more of your emotions and he began selectively sharing some of his own as well. He didn’t want to overwhelm you with a new sense, so he just let a little bit of himself shine through at times. It was a new experience for you both but it could only lead to a better relationship. So Shanks would try to push his delight when he saw you, or his yearning for you while you were absent from his sight, or questioning how you felt when your eyes grew distant. 

Once, when you came out of the shower wrapped in a towel, Shanks looked you over and sent his appreciation of your body down the bond. Your eyes widened and you looked at him, your face flushing before his eyes. Your eyes flicked between your towel and his hardening cock, as if you didn’t really understand the connection. Knowing you could sense him was as endearing as it was enthralling, so Shanks allowed even more of his desire to pass through. Shanks felt like he’d found the one piece with the shy smile you gave him as you walked over. 

“I can feel your, um, feel your- your” your face flushed deeper with every word you tried to say. Shanks laughed and sat up from where he was reclining, grabbing your wrist gently.

“You can feel what, Love?” he teased, pulling your hand and placing it over his cock. 

“This?” he asked, grinding up into your soft palm, his linen pants chafing against his dick. You nodded and flushed all the way from your chest up to your ears. He could feel your bashfulness through the bond as it washed over him, but perhaps also a twinge of pride? 

“So you gonna do anything about it, you little tease?” he joked, letting go of your hand. He wasn’t expecting you to do anything, especially not so close to your heat. He’d had some sexual activity with you outside of your heat before, but he wasn’t going to demand it from you right now. 

To Shanks’ astonishment, you leaned over him. Your skin smelled like his own soap as you brought your lips close to his ear. Shanks could feel the heat of you from your hot shower, a few droplets of water cascading between your heavenly tits. His mouth was dry, wishing he was licking them off you. Shanks held his breath, he’d never seen this side of you outside of heat before. It was silent between you for a beat as he felt your warm breath on his face, your body just inches away from his own.

“No,” you whispered before standing back up and mincing away. Shanks laughed loudly and sent his mirth down the connection as well. 

“Saucy minx,” he chided as you threw him another small smile over your shoulder. 

And all of that had been wonderful, it really had.

Until it wasn’t.

Shanks was relaxing in his hammock on the sunny, warm deck, idly pushing himself with one of his sandaled feet. You were still within his eyesight, but he didn’t feel the need to be right next to you at the moment. Now that you were mated, he felt more at ease with you out of his physical proximity as long as he could sense you on the mating bond. Benn was talking to you about something or other, barking an order to Monster to get off the sails before returning to calmly chatting while you listened intently.

Shanks closed his eyes and took another sip from the mug of beer in his hand. Reaching out, he felt for you along the bond, almost like another form of haki. Shanks smiled to himself, this was how things were supposed to be. He had his mate, his crew, his destiny…everything was as it should be. 

Until Shanks’ heart began beating out of his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins.  He was standing a moment later, the beer spilled on the deck and Griffon unsheathed from its scabbard. Something terrible was about to happen, he was sure of it. Shanks’ muscles bunched, his grip on Griffon tightened as he scanned the horizon.

Shanks’ haki was already crackling in the air, his observation looking into the future to determine where the threat was coming from. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time – maybe not since his fight with Harold – so whoever it was a formidable foe. Were the Gorosei near? He was about to look into the future, determine what was going on.

Except Shanks realized that he wasn’t feeling this way.

You were.

The bond hadn’t just given him a hint of how you were feeling, it had poured your whole self through it. Shanks resheathed his sword, scanning the deck. There was no one besides Benn near you, nothing that should make you feel that way as far as he could tell. The crew were watching him intently, waiting for orders on what to do next. He consciously relaxed his shoulders and shifted his weight to once foot before resheathing Griffon. 

“All good. Felt something unusual but it turned out to be nothing,” Shanks explained quickly, plastering back on the sunshiney smile they were so accustomed to. Benn held his gaze but said nothing, allowing the crew to relax. 

You were standing next to Benn, pale and shaking, your gaze cast down at the floor. Shanks walked over to you, careful of his facial features so he didn’t upset you further. 

“I’m s-sorry,” you whispered before he even had a chance to speak to you. Shanks tutted and pulled you to his chest, kissing the top of your head.

“Nothing to be sorry for. But would you mind going to the cabin for a moment? I’ll be there in a few minutes, I just wanna talk to Benn for a second,” he said quietly, as you nodded silently. Shanks felt a wave of anxiety pass through you, thick and cloying. 

“Hey,” Shanks said softly, using two fingers to chuck your chin up. You didn’t resist – you never did – but your eyes still wouldn’t meet his. “You’re not in trouble, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Shanks reassured you. Your eyes flicked to his, a glimmer of relaxation now seeping through the bond. Shanks bent down, kissing you briefly before releasing your face. 

“Off ya go, Love. See ya soon,” Shanks said with a bright smile and a wave as you left. He waited until the door of his cabin shut before he addressed Beckman.

“The fuck was tha’ about?” Beckman grunted, lighting a new cigarette. Shanks sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He was making sure to keep his own feelings from you, not wanting you to feel guilty or upset about what had happened. You’d be in the dark about how he felt, but it was better than sending you spiraling again.

“Mating bond. I haven’t been able to lock it down completely yet, so I felt a burst of what she was feeling. What were you talking to her about?” Shanks asked, almost asking for a cigarette of his own. The intensity of your feelings left him rattled. He couldn’t imagine feeling like that, especially when there was no outlet for the emotions. Even now he almost wished there was some Marine ship he could chop in half and release the tension in his gut. 

“Nothin’. I was tellin’ ‘er about some of the features of the island. I thought that she could go with you now that ‘er heat is over – snorkelin’ or shit like that,” Beckman explained, exhaling smoke out his nose. Shanks trusted his first mate, he didn’t think Beckman would have hurt or upset you. 

“Dinnae what set her off, there wasn’t anythin’ amiss,” he explained, hand on the back of his neck. Shanks frowned – what could have upset you that badly? Had you been to this island before and had a bad experience?

“Sorry if I-” Shanks interrupted Benn’s words with a clap of his hand on his first mate’s shoulder, trying to rid Beckman of his negative thoughts.

“You didn’t do anything wrong either. I’m going to go talk to her, see what happened,” Shanks said, before walking off to the cabin. The heavy wooden door creaked open and Shanks entered, searching the room with his eyes. Unsurprisingly, you were sitting on the floor by the corner of his bed. Shanks’ heart fell as he saw you sitting with your knees to your chest. You only did this when you thought he was going to punish you, or when you thought you’d done something wrong. Your eyes were trained on the floor in front of you, your still too thin frame shaking slightly. 

Shanks slowly made his way towards his bed, trying not to startle or upset you further. Tentatively reaching down the bond, Shanks felt your growing unease as he drew closer. Unease? Shouldn’t you be feeling comforted now that he was with you? Shanks sat on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to him. You unclasped your arms and stood up, joining him on the bed moments later. 

Shanks wound his arm around you as you pinched your fingers. You leaned into him, burying your face in his scent glands. Shanks had a feeling it was just as much to smell him as it was to hide your face from his sight. He tapped the side of your thigh, a silent request you understood implicitly by now. You buried your face in him once more after climbing onto his lap, your natural sweetness soured by your anxiety. Shanks wrapped his arm around you and let you settle in, giving you a few minutes to acclimate as he purred for you. As always, the gentle beat soothed you, calming you down until Shanks felt it was time to talk. 

“What happened out there?” he asked you softly after your heartrate had slowed. 

“I don’t - I don’t know,” was your whispered reply, your voice cracking midway through your sentence.

“Mmh. I think you do,” Shanks pushed gently. “You can tell me, it’s ok. Did Beckman say something that scared you?” You shook your head quickly.

“N-no, he didn’t do anything. He was telling me about the island,” you explained, your story matching Benn’s.

“So what made you panic like that?” You looked up at him, your eyes mournful and wide, your beautiful lips parting but nothing coming out. Shanks gave you a few moments to answer, but you remained silent, as if you didn’t know what to say. 

“Are you worried about going there? That something will happen again?” Shanks pressed. That reaction would be natural, given what happened on the last island. It wounded his pride as an alpha that your first instincts were that he couldn’t protect you, but he still understood why you’d feel like. You were bound to be afraid given your past with your previous Alpha as well as the last island you’d been on. Shanks was mollified to see you shaking your head again before you pressed yourself closer against him. 

“Then why? I felt it down the bond, that’s not a normal feeling. People don’t feel that way for no reason,” he said, running a finger down your cheek. Your brows hitched slightly in confusion before you peeked up from his chest, not hesitating as you spoke. 

“I always feel that way.”

Your POV

Something had shifted and settled between you and Shanks after the end of your heat. You knew he’d bitten and bonded you, that much was certain. But there was something else, something intangible that had passed between the two of you. 

Things between you and Shanks were a little smoother than they were before your heat. You no longer had to wonder what your future would hold, since you were now bound to Shanks in every way. The mating bond felt like growing a new limb and having to learn how to use and control it, but with no one to guide you. Sometimes you felt Shanks’ emotions down the mating bond, though they were muted and often muddled with your own. It almost felt like he was controlling what you received, which only served to remind you of how much stronger and more in control Shanks was. You would have to take what he gave you, and hope he opened up more in the coming weeks.

You’d been trying to focus on the silver lining for the past few days as the ship remained docked on the island and thought you’d made some progress. Shanks wasn’t the person you selected, but you could still choose to have a good life with him. 

The world was how it was, and you’d ended up mated to an Emperor. At least you hadn’t been left with Kid, and Shanks wasn’t a Celestial Dragon, you thought, and was well regarded by certain parts of society. You could do far worse, you had thought with a shudder, as you remembered the whispered stories you’d heard of cruel, spoiled Celestial Dragons and their wanton appetites. 

Sometimes late at night, when Shanks had you curled up against him in your bed, your thoughts still drifted to what could have been. You imagined finding your fated mate, the one person you were really meant to be with….but there wasn’t really a point beyond making yourself upset. You stopped yourself from thinking about that and forced yourself to think about the positives of being attached to Red Haired Shanks.

Maybe you could even learn to love him, like thousands of Omegas before you had done during their lifetimes. You had even teased the Emperor a day or so prior, leaving him wanting you after your shower. The silly interaction had left you breathless from your audacity, but Shanks found your newfound temerity amusing. You were glad he hadn’t expected anything sexual from you, though, you were tired after your previous heat. 

Your last heat had been rougher than the one before, the artificial heat harsher than your organic one – from what you could recall. Like last time, you couldn’t remember much, but you remembered Shanks soothing you. He had taken care of you, just like the first time. But this time it felt almost romantic, like a lover would treat you. 

A shred of a memory came to you as you tried to remember your heat – you on top of Shanks, your tears hitting his chest as you slowly rode him. Your thighs were quaking – you were so tired – but your pussy still demanded more from you. Shanks was under you, cooing and praising you, his hand wiping the tears from your face. 

“Such a good girl, doing so well. I know, I know, I know sweet Omega. You’ve been working so hard, do you want me to take over again?” he asked, the soft smile flitting from his face. You shook your head, you’d asked to be on top this time and your Alpha had provided for you. Such a gracious, kind, supportive Alpha, you thought to yourself as you tried to move faster. What other Alpha would let you be on top during your heat? But that didn’t matter. You didn’t need to think of anyone or anything else anymore, your Alpha had claimed you. He was yours to love forever.

Your memories after that were scattered, only a few more moments coming to your mind. You barely even remembered the claiming bite itself, only the stinging pain that accompanied it. Hongo had come by to inspect it the day following the ending of your heat but unlike the bites you’d received from Kid, you tilted your head immediately for him, almost proud to show the bite off. You weren’t sure where the feeling was coming from, but the way the pads of Shanks’ fingers rubbed small circles against your back told you he was pleased with your presentation. 

But now your Alpha had your full attention as you tried to understand what you’d done wrong. You jaw clenched tight as you waited for him to continue – this was no teasing like the other day. You’d messed up and you hoped he would be merciful with you.

“You’re joking,” Shanks stated, his crow’s feet showing as his eyes narrowed in concern. 

“Um, no?” you said quietly, unsure what you would be joking about.  Now that you were mated you felt a little bolder in your ability to talk to him but you would never joke or lie about something that Shanks was serious about. 

“What do you mean you always feel that way?” Shanks prompted, holding your chin between two of his fingers. Your newly found confidence was flagging as you dropped your eye contact and shrugged.

“I feel that way a lot. It just happens. Even before um, K-kid I was always like this. But um, today it was just that Benn was telling me that there’s - there’s an um..b-bathing suit store on the island and I started remembering that other island and then he asked me something and I didn’t hear what he said and he commanded um, someone else to do something, and I got worried he was going to Command me to do something as punishment or because I wasn’t listening and I didn’t know what-” 

“Take a breath, Love,” Shanks interrupted, rubbing a hand down your back as his purr intensified. You gulped in a shaky breath, waiting for Shanks to tell you what to do next.

“Has Benn ever Commanded you to do anything?” Shanks asked evenly as his fingers gripped your skin, a tendril of jealousy coming down the mating bond. You shook your head again.

“No, he’s never done anything b-bad to me,” you stammered, hoping Shanks believed you. He would, right? It seemed like he could feel more than you could down the mating bond, though you didn’t know how far that extended. You didn’t want Benn to get in trouble because of you – then he would think you were a liar, or that you’d said something bad to Shanks. And then he might seek retribution or punish you when Shanks wasn’t around or tell everyone else that you were lying and-

“It’s building again,” Shanks said softly, stroking his fingers over his claiming bite on your neck. You picked up your head to look at him.

“I don’t - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” if you annoyed him through the bond, maybe he’d get upset with you but you couldn’t control it you just thought this way how could you tamp this down maybe you could stop thinking or maybe learn to block your emotions-

Your thoughts were cut off as Shanks kissed you, his hand on the back of your head. You focused only on his soft lips, the stubble of his unshaven face on your skin. You shifted to face him more fully, all of your attention on your mate. Shanks broke the kiss too soon, his small smile giving you hope that he wasn’t still mad at you. 

“When was the last time you didn’t feel that way? Beta Island?” Shanks asked, his fingers drumming on your neck. You shook your head.

“No, even there I was always worried about an Alpha coming there or Betas finding out my secret. I would say…before my presentation maybe?” you said quietly, chewing on your lip. “I didn’t have to worry about being under anyone’s control. Well, not more than any other child anyway,” you said, giving a small nod. 

You’d thought back to those days many times, when you assumed you’d be a beta just like everyone else. You had school and chores, like everyone, but you also had friends and your family. That had all ended the day you presented, your fate sealed with the scent of Omega emanating from you. You’d been locked in your room at your parents house from the moment they knew you were an Omega until you made your escape. Shanks’ frown brought your attention back to him.

“Is that what scares you? Being under someone else’s control?” he asked, curling some of your hair behind your ear. You pressed your lips together before you said something you couldn’t take back, your hands balling on your lap. Of course it was what scared you. Shanks didn’t know what it was like, to be forced to do something against his will simply because of the way he was born. Not only was he an Alpha, he was also physically strong. You doubted Shanks had ever done anything he didn’t want to, or at least not for many years.

“Because we can train you to reject Alpha Commands. Or at least be more resistant,” he continued. Your eyes widened at the new information. 

“Is that…is that true?” you whispered, almost afraid to ask. You felt like Shanks was sharing something illegal, like some Marine was going to swoop in and kill you just for listening to what he said. You turned your head to nuzzle against his wrist, his hand still on your neck.

“Mmh. It is, I was reading about it in a book about Omegas,” Shanks explained as you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his chest. Your head was spinning – could you live in a world like the one you’d once known? Maybe Shanks was going to help you, maybe he did like you for more than just your designation. Something tight unfurled in your chest, like a tender bud opening its petals. 

“But you won’t ever be able to resist my Commands. Not only because I’m an Apex Alpha, but also because I’m your mate,” Shanks continued softly as his purr rumbled through his chest, soothing the last of your previous worries away. You nodded, that made sense. And you were going to follow what he said to do, anyway. Shanks was your mate and he already knew you so well. 

Maybe better than you knew yourself.

Notes:

Thank you to @sordidmusings for discussing the idea of Omegas being trained out of Alpha Commands with me.

I thought Shanks would feel more settled now, he’s ready to be a little better. He's still a bit bad though....I thought the tone shift worked, let me know if you feel otherwise.

Yes, you’d soothed Shanks during a time of his distress, but being claimed was different. First of all, it would seal that Shanks would be your only sexual partner for the rest of your life. You could never accept another Alpha during heat and never be able to have children unless they were his. You’d crave his presence and his smell at every turn, regardless of what he did. Not only that, but it was said that the pair could feel emotions through a successful mating bond. That there was more to the bite than signifying a mated pair. You really hoped that wasn’t the case, that it was something that had been garbled through the years of misinformation about Omegas. If Shanks could sense your emotions, you would never have any privacy again. There would be no way to hide your true feelings any longer. 

Which is why you were glad you had a few weeks before your next heat to come to terms with everything. It was going to happen, and there wasn’t anything you could do to prevent or stop it. Really, Shanks wasn’t terrible. In fact, he often treated you better than any other Alpha had — protecting you, helping you when things got overwhelming, never harming you. There was another side of him that made you hesitate. The one carefully hidden from his crew and adoring fans. Shanks was possessive, controlling, and manipulative. You felt it in his grasp as he pulled you closer and didn’t let go, the low rumble in his chest when Benn spoke to you, the way he continued to call you by a nickname of his choosing. It must have been years since he’d been told no, that he couldn’t have something he wanted. So if he wanted to mate you, he was going to.

You shuddered at that thought, your mind running in circles as each worry crashed over you in turn. All you could think about was your impending mating, the claiming bond, Shanks as your Alpha, what your life would be like on an Emperor’s ship — all the thoughts settling like dead weight on your chest as you lay in Shanks’s bed. For some reason, it was difficult to focus on any one thing for longer than a few moments. Maybe Shanks really had fucked you dumb like the saying went, you thought with a shrug.

You were feeling weird too, jittery and jumpy like your limbs had fallen asleep and they were just waking up again. There wasn’t any reason for you to be feeling this way, since you’d solved the issue of your forlorn, distant Alpha. Even so, something inside of you wasn’t settling right. You tossed and turned on the bed, unable to relax but not having enough mental energy to do anything about it. Finally, after getting too hot in the now warm cabin, you threw off the blankets and started looking through the chest of clothes the men had brought you from the last island. 

Almost all the clothes you had were dirty, which was par for the course. The ship had been at sea, sailing to some destination you hadn’t been informed of, so there wasn’t any laundry being done. Digging through your makeshift wardrobe, nothing was appealing to you. Looking over on the bed, you saw Shanks’ dirty shirt he'd removed earlier. You picked it up and rubbed your face on the soft, worn fabric, his scent calling to you like you were in heat. 

You didn't worry about heat coming since it wasn't likely, since you’d been in heat roughly two weeks prior, and cycles were about every four to six weeks. You had at least two more weeks to go, maybe more since your cycles weren’t regular yet. Hopefully, you'd get four more weeks to make peace with your situation. Undisturbed, you put on Shanks’ shirt and pulled the collar forward to breathe in his scent again. 

Maybe you’d spend some time today reading, you thought. Reading had been your primary pastime on Beta Island.  Unfortunately, no books had been available on Kid’s ship, and you’d been too nervous on Shanks’ thus far. Humming, you walked over to the small bookshelf in Shanks’ cabin and skimmed the titles on the spines of the books. There were mostly star maps and sailing guides, but there were a few fiction titles that caught your eye. 

As you reached for a particular volume, you suddenly felt the urge to knock everything off the shelves and reorganize it. There was a manic energy building in you, like you were going to burst if you didn’t do something . The bookshelf needed to be fixed, you thought, grabbing the tomes and putting them rapidly on Shanks’s already crowded desk. In fact, now that you looked around the room, almost everything needed to be moved. And it had to be done now.

You were pacing back and forth in the cabin when Shanks came back in with a syringe in his hand. After looking around the cabin, he laughed lightly, and his eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Nesting? It’s alright, I’m sure however you arrange things will be fine,” he said, giving you a bright smile. 

You frowned at him, your brow furrowing as your annoyance rose. Why was he smiling? Couldn’t he feel the wrongness of everything? There was too much to do, too much to get done to worry about tiptoeing around him right now. Waves of energy were crashing down on you, making your fingers twitch with the urge to create order from chaos. 

“Come here, I need to give you something,” he said, sitting down on the bed and patting the space next to him. You didn’t bother to stop pacing; there wasn’t anything he could give you that you wanted right now. You didn’t want him on the bed, you didn’t want him in here, he needed to leave, he needed– 

“Come here,” Shanks Commanded you, startling you out of your frustration. Your scowl dropped and your eyes widened as you quickly remembered your place. You scurried to the bed to obey the order, the need to comply overriding the sense of urgency. Shanks didn’t seem upset, his hand coming up to pat your hair. The urge to shake him off was strong, but you controlled yourself lest he Command you again.

“Pull up your shirt, this goes in your thigh,” Shanks said, flicking the cap off the syringe. You pulled up the hem to reveal your leg, a question slipping out before you could stifle it.

“What’s this for?” you asked, emboldened by the new feelings in you. By the time you’d finished your question, the needle was already in your skin with Shanks pushing the plunger.

“It’s going to tip you over the edge into heat,” he said placidly, looking at the now empty syringe to ensure all of the medication had been administered. Horror bloomed in your heart as you recognized the symptoms in yourself — your warm body, the urgency in rearranging the cabin, your agitation. It was all for a coming heat. Last time was a gradual climb, but this time you felt like you’d been dumped head first into a volcano. 

“Wh- no. Please, Shanks, no,” you begged, grabbing the front of his shirt.

“Sorry, love. It’s been building gradually for a while now, the tea started the process. I know the rapid onset is harsh-” you interrupted him with tears in your eyes, too upset to worry if he was going to punish you for cutting him off. Your mind and heart were racing with the new information. This couldn’t be happening. 

“No, please! Please, please, I don’t- I don’t want to- I'm not ready-” you were sobbing, trying to tell him that you couldn’t do it again, not so soon, you needed more time. You didn’t want the claiming bite, you didn’t want to be his Omega, you didn’t want any of it, not yet, not yet, not yet. Shanks pulled you into his chest with his arm, positioning your face by his neck as you struggled to take in a full breath.

“I’m sorry, baby. It had to happen, you’ve been out of sync for too long. We’ll be docked at another island in a few minutes, so you won’t have to worry about anyone else being on the ship -”

 “No - p-please, not yet-” you pleaded, trying to get him to understand. You were pushing at his chest with your hands, trying to create space between you and his scent, but he was a solid wall of muscle. Shanks’s chest rumbled with his purr, calming you down before you dissolved into full-blown panic. 

“Once it starts you'll feel better. I’ll help you with everything, just like last time,” he murmured into your hair, sympathy tinging his tone. He kissed the top of your head as your tears stained his shirt. 

“Finish preparing, love. You don’t have much time, at most an hour before it hits. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I thought you might have a bad reaction,” he hummed, his purr successful in calming down your breathing.

You sniffled and nodded your head, your gaze settling on your shaking hands. There was no point in arguing anymore, your heat was coming whether you were ready or not. Who were you to defy an Emperor?

Shanks POV

He really did feel sorry for you. Your brow furrowed as you looked everywhere but him, your pulse beating an angry staccato under his palm. He could feel the nervous sweat that broke out on your neck, and you looked fully out of sorts. Hongo said that it was safe to bring you back into heat even though it was a little early, so you’d be alright. His purr was working, he noted, your shoulders sagging as you pushed your nose into his neck. It was a helpful tool, an effective method to calm you when you were upset. Shanks ran his hand up and down your arm, trying to comfort you further.

Shanks had been surprised and intensely pleased by your forwardness earlier. He took it as a sign that you were ready to be his Omega, his little mate. He couldn't wait until you were in heat again, ready to love him mind, body, and soul like you had before. The rest of you would catch up, especially after the claiming bite.

His eyes flicked down to your neck, to the scar from the previous Alpha who had tried to claim you. He’d erase it, make sure no one ever paid it any attention again. After this heat, it would be clear who you belonged to. Shanks pulled you onto his lap, wanting to reassure you before he left the cabin. 

“Everything will work out. Don’t worry, I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he said softly, tucking your hair behind an ear. Your lip wobbled as your eyes filled with tears again. Shanks felt a little guilty for not telling you, but how could he when this was your reaction? If he told you sooner, you would have worried about his decision and made the process harder on yourself. He had no doubt that rapid onset heat was scrambling your thoughts, making you even more emotionally labile than usual. He continued to purr as your breathing evened out.

“Do you want me to leave now?” he asked as you hiccuped into his shoulder. Your lips pressed into a thin line for a moment before giving a minute nod. Shanks didn’t take it personally; he remembered from the previous heat that you’d want to arrange things alone. He gave you a peck on the cheek before setting you back on the bed. Your eyes were still red-tinged, but at least now you weren’t actively crying. 

 “Call for me when you need me. I’m always nearby,” Shanks said softly, leaving the cabin.

Once on the deck, Shanks halfheartedly helped dock the ship. He could have done more, but his attention kept getting drawn back to his cabin, his ears straining for any kind of sound coming from inside. There was no dramatic flinging of clothes like last time, nothing to indicate what was about to happen inside. Hongo kept trying to get his attention, but Shanks couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. Eventually, Hongo gave up and walked off, which was fine by Shanks. They could catch up after your heat ended. 

“Oi. Watch it,” Beckman grumbled as Shanks nearly walked into him, his eyes still fixed on the cabin door. Beckman rolled his eyes and lit another cigarette as a growl grew from Shanks’s chest. 

“Save it,” Beckman said, blowing smoke out of his nose. “We’re nearly off the ship. And, Emperor?” Shanks jolted at the title, Beckman seldomly called him Emperor outside of battle and never blew smoke out of his nose unless he was pissed.

“Mark ‘er this time, enough of this,” Beckman said with a frown. Beckman’s rare irritation only confirmed Shanks’ decision to claim you. After you were his, relations on the ship would return to normal, and everyone would be able to relax. Shanks continued helping until he was waving the crew off as they sailed in the dinghies towards the shore. And no sooner had they left than he heard weak cries emanating from his cabin.

The last time you’d been in heat, he had rushed to your side immediately, easing your pains as soon as your call rang in his ears. Now he lingered by the railing of the ship where he had just bade goodbye to his crew. He was going to help you, of course he would, there was no question. Even now his Alpha side had him rearing to go and fuck you. But the same self-control that had made him an Emperor allowed him to hold out against his animal instincts. He was going to give you a practical lesson in why you needed him, why all of this was happening. You wouldn’t be in danger or damaged, just in pain for a little longer. 

Shanks pulled out his flask and popped it open with his thumb. About half an hour passed as your cries intensified, calling for an Alpha in increasingly desperate wails. He drank deeply from the small container, his fingers nearly crushing the metal as he fought his urge to go to you. He’d go to you soon, but he wanted to wait until-

“Sh-Shanks! Puh-lease! Shanks!” you cried out, your voice cracking with despair. A smile broke out on his face as he resealed his flask. 

Your POV

Where was your Alpha? Couldn’t he hear you crying for him? Why wasn’t he with you? Was he upset with you? You could smell one nearby, his lingering scent familiar from the last time he came to you. Based on the smell, you were writhing on his bed, and your nest consisted of his clothes. He wasn’t mated, so why wasn’t he here? The Alpha was strong and capable; didn’t he want you? You wanted him, and badly. 

You screwed your eyes shut as another wave of cramping hit your already sore midsection. This was too much to bear, it felt like you were going to die if he didn’t come to you. He’d told you his name but it kept slipping out of your thoughts like water through a sieve. Tears rolled down your hot face as the pain increased, so you cried out the only name your mind could grasp in your pained state. You hoped it was his.

“Sh-Shanks! Puh-lease! Shanks!” you screamed, your voice cracking as you begged. Your tears were coming faster now, you couldn’t handle the pain, you were dying without him. The door opened, a breeze carrying in the very scent you were so desperate for. Your tears slowed in his presence, relieved that your Alpha had finally come for you. Even his fresh scent was enough to quell some of the pain inside your body.

Rolling over onto your belly, you pushed yourself up as you knelt in your nest. Shanks unhurriedly took off his cloak and set it on the perfectly arranged desk. He ambled over to you, bending down to wipe away a tear with his thumb.

“Poor little Omega,” he cooed at you, cupping your face with one large hand. You nuzzled into him, your arms wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. He smiled at you and allowed himself to be moved, right outside the bounds of your nest. 

“Did you miss me?” he asked, his hand winding into the hair on the back of your head. He didn’t need to pull it for you to look up at him, understanding the implicit cue. 

“Yes, Shanks,” you answered immediately as you bit your lip from another wave of cramps and slick trailing down your thighs. Your fingers sought the buttons on his shirt, wanting nothing between you and his glorious body.

“Do you need me?” he continued, allowing you to unbutton his shirt. There weren’t many so you finished the task quickly.

“Yes, Shanks,” you replied, rubbing your face on his now shirtless chest. You started kissing up his defined pecs until his hand tightened, stopping you from going any further. You looked up at him, your brows knit in confusion as your eyes pricked with tears once more — didn’t he want you? If he rejected you right now, you’d shatter into a million tiny pieces and never recover.

“Do you love me?” he asked quietly, his fingertips massaging the back of your head. That was all? You almost laughed at the question; it was as easy to answer as the previous two.

“Yes, Shanks.”

Shanks POV

You answered like it was ridiculous for him to ask such an obvious question. Pleased with your answer, he tugged your arms off his torso and pushed your chest gently with the tips of his fingers. You scooted backward and lay down, spreading your already soaked legs for him. Shanks groaned when you fully exposed your glistening core to him. He wanted to dive face first into your sweet pussy, but he couldn’t quite yet.

After shucking off his pants, Shanks followed you into your nest, his cock ready for what was to come. You eagerly wound your hands around his neck and your legs around his waist, practically panting with need as he leaned over you. Your pained expression returned as the heat consumed you, but Shanks remained resolute — he wanted to do this right.

He positioned himself at your sopping entrance, pushing into your tight channel slowly. You threw your head back with a loud moan as he sank into you, taking his time to let you feel every inch. He sheathed himself fully within you, grinding himself lightly against you. Your nails dug into his back with this small measure of relief. You were crying for more of him, but that wasn’t your decision to make. He needed to be careful, no matter how delicious you smelled or how tight your cunt was. His animalistic instincts had him on the edge of rut, and he wanted to be in his right mind for what he was about to do.

Unlike the first heat, Shanks didn’t take you fast and rough. He set a slow rhythm, stroking you deeply while leaning down to kiss you. He licked your lips, and you immediately parted them,  giving him entrance at his slightest behest. You whined into his mouth with your fervor, arching your back as he gradually pistoned faster. Your scent and mewls were filling his head, driving him to the brink of climax before he was ready. Shanks broke the kiss and put his mouth over your scent glands, sucking on them gently, preparing you for what was to come. Your nails dug into his back hard enough to break the skin as your cries increased in pitch.

“On hands and knees,” he husked, planting a kiss on the underside of your jaw as he pulled out. You eagerly flipped over onto your stomach, pushing your hips into the air. Shanks grabbed your thigh and pulled you back onto his cock, your cunt feeling like heaven. Oh, how he wanted to rut recklessly into you right now, to lose himself in the pleasure you brought him. He began his rhythm again, fucking you at a brutal pace that had you rocking forward with each rough thrust. You eagerly met his thrusts, pushing yourself back onto him as you keened.

Shanks wound his hand into your hair, wrapping some of it around his fist. It was so lovely having you like this, and he couldn’t believe he’d almost let you cut it. Shanks’s tempo never flagged and your cunt fluttered around his length as his pace increased. Shanks pulled your hair down, and you immediately pressed your chest to the bed, raising your ass higher in the air. He held you by your hair in place against the bed, your delicate neck stretched out before him. He could feel his incisors elongating, and for the first time, he didn’t stifle his inner urges.

“Love me,” Shanks Commanded as he held you down, the side of your face pressed into the mattress. He couldn’t be sure you’d hear and obey, but something drove him to try.  Shanks reared back and bit you with a roar, his fangs piercing through the thick, raised scar of Kid’s old bite. He tasted the coppery tang of your blood on his tongue and increased the pressure, making sure that there’d be nothing left from your old Alpha. 

The satisfaction of having his Omega beneath him, his fangs in your skin, your hair in his hand, his cock buried in you — the sensations overwhelmed him as he came deep within you. Your cunt eagerly pulsed around him as you screamed in pained pleasure. Even as you cried out and tried to squirm out of his hold, he kept you in place and forced you to accept his claim. Pulling his teeth out, he let go of your hair and started lapping at the bite. Your breathing was ragged as you shook beneath him, blood slowly seeping from the wound he’d given you. Shanks wanted to give you a moment to recover since you were coming down from an intense orgasm as well as the claiming bite. 

“Shhh. It’s alright, we’re almost done. Do you want me to make you feel good too?” he asked, kissing the spot where he’d bitten you. You winced but nodded your head, tilting it to give him better access to your neck.

“So sweet, so perfect for me. Lay down so I can show you what a good Omega you’ve been,” Shanks murmured, releasing his fist from your hair. You immediately lowered yourself to your stomach as he’d ordered you to, and Shanks rolled you onto your back. He moved down the bed, positioning himself where he’d wanted to be at the beginning.

“Messy for me,” Shanks crooned appreciatively, running a finger through your combined juices. You shuddered and whined in anticipation. He was going to make you feel good, but he had another motive for positioning you this way. Shanks didn’t give you much time to rest before he pushed your thighs apart with his hand and started lapping at your cunt. Luckily, heat had you forgetting the pain of your mating bite as your toes curled and your hands wound themselves into his hair. Your nails scratched his scalp as he sucked and licked your clit, his fingers working themselves into your needy pussy.

Within minutes, you were already at the precipice of orgasm again, your thighs trembling around his shoulders. Removing his fingers, Shanks nudged your thighs apart even further and began stroking your clit with his fingers. His fangs were aching again, and he was ready. Only one bite was needed for claiming, but Shanks needed to show he was the only Alpha in your life. That no one else mattered.

“One more time, then we’ll never have to do this again. We’ll be mated and nothing will ever come between us,” he said, more to himself than you. You weren’t coherent right now; you were writhing beneath his touch and waiting for Shanks to bestow your next orgasm. He stroked you rapidly, your cunt clenching around nothing as you lurched from the sensations. 

“Love me,” he Commanded you as he sank his fangs into the bite on your inner thigh. You screamed as you came, but this was no cry of pleasure like he was so used to hearing tumble from your lips during heat. This was the pained scream of injury, the kind he’d heard thousands of times before during his life on the seas. He snapped his jaws shut once more, pushing his teeth further through the scar before pulling them out of your delicate skin. Your breath was hitching and tears were leaking from your eyes, but you still gave him a watery smile when he made eye contact with you.

“All done, never again,” Shanks repeated, with you sniffling above him. He lapped at the second bite between your legs, keeping them open with his torso as you weakly tried to shut them. After ensuring the bite was sufficient to rid you of Kid’s mark, Shanks removed himself from between your legs and lay next to you on the bed.

“How are you feeling, little Omega?” he asked, pulling your back flush against his chest. He could smell his scent seeping into your own, creating a new one. It was no less appealing to him, but it wouldn’t call to other Alphas like the scent of an unmated Omega did. He moved your hair, admiring the large puncture wounds he’d made between your neck and shoulder. It would act as a ward to other Alphas, the strength of his bite a visual marker of his strength in battle. 

“Hurts,” you whispered, leaning your head further back into his chest for comfort.

“It’ll stop soon,” he replied, kissing your forehead. His cock had been hard since you began your heat and it was stirring against your ass. “We can make the pain go away, if you wish,” he whispered into the shell of your ear, scraping his teeth against your earlobe.

You shivered and gave him a sunny smile — gods, he loved this version of you. Maybe now that you were mated, this side would come to the forefront. He understood why you were withdrawn and anxious but maybe with him at your side you’d be able to heal.

Shanks lifted your top leg and placed it over his hips, opening you up so he could slide his cock back into your inviting cunt. You sighed in relief, like you had been missing it all your life. Shanks pushed himself into you until an unfamiliar sensation erupted from within him. Looking down, Shanks saw that a knot had formed at the base of his cock, the reddish bulb growing larger as he sank deeper into you. Hongo had mentioned something about knots, but Shanks hadn’t really been listening at the time. Mated Alphas were the only designation able to knot their partners, but it had slipped his mind that it would happen to him.

“Love, this time is going to be different,” Shanks said absently, running his fingers over the knot. It was incredibly sensitive and he couldn’t wait until it was being gripped by your tight cunt.

“Biting?” you asked, hiking your shoulder to cover your neck reflexively.

“No, no. No more biting. I’m going to knot you,” Shanks said definitively, watching his cock sink into your heat. You sighed dreamily and your smile widened until your eyes were little slits. He wanted to remember the look you were giving him for the rest of his days.

Your POV

Your Alpha was so pleased with you he’d marked you, claimed you, made you his own. You’d never have to be alone and in pain ever again. He would always be there to protect you. Something kept trying to come to your mind, something important you’d forgotten. It was a dark feeling, a sense of dread or worry, but you couldn’t imagine why you’d feel that way. Everything was perfect and– your thoughts scattered as Shanks entered you, making you melt against him.

“Love, this time is going to be different,” Shanks said from behind you, fiddling with something. 

“Biting?” you asked, hiking your shoulder to cover your neck reflexively. You were able to grasp a scary memory; you hadn’t liked it when he bit you. It was painful, and even though you were glad you were his Omega, you didn’t want to get bitten a third time. But if that was what your Alpha wanted, you’d provide it to him.

“No, no. No more biting. I’m going to knot you,” Shanks said as he began pumping himself within you. You sighed from happiness, there couldn’t be a better life than this. You twisted to kiss him and tenderly cupped his cheek to pull his face to yours. 

“Ah, you need more, greedy girl?” he said with a laugh when you pulled away. You bit your lip and nodded, you wanted so much more. You wanted to not know where you ended or where he began, to merge together, to be one with him. Shanks pulled out and rolled you onto your back, hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder. You moved the other to match, ready for whatever he was going to give you. Shanks leaned down, his lips crashing against your own as he thrust into you. You were squished under your own thighs and some of his bodyweight, his cock feeling like it was in your stomach with how deep it was within you.

He quickly began a punishing rhythm, his skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat that matched your own. You thrashed as another orgasm built inside you, ready to bring you to a renewed state of bliss. Just as you were about to hit your peak, Shanks pushed his knot inside you. You came as your body accommodated his own, your cunt pulsating around his massive size. Shanks roared his own orgasm, and you felt the thick ropes of come released within you, finally sating the urges of heat momentarily. You went limp as all your energy left you, content to be joined with your Alpha for a few peaceful moments until his knot receded. 

“How long?” you hummed in contentment.

“Not sure, love. This is my first time,” he crooned, cupping your breast and putting his chin on your shoulder. It didn’t matter, really. He’d tell you what he wanted, and you’d obey. That’s how things always were between Alphas and Omegas. 

“I need you to do one thing for me,” he said, kissing the oozing mating mark on your neck. You couldn’t wait to hear what he wanted from you. You would do anything for your Alpha.

“Love me.”

After several days of giving Shanks space, your instincts had you running ragged any time you saw the Captain. The drastic change in Shanks’s nature was setting off your internal alarms - the Omega in you demanded you placate him. Your body was telling you that you’d upset him and that you needed to fix what was wrong. You knew the change stemmed from the conversation that he’d pried out of you, but even so you couldn’t resist the call to console and soothe. 

Your mind also railed against you - you’d upset one of the four Emperors. Sure, he’d been nice to you up until that point, but what if he got tired of your attitude like Kid had? The worst moments of your life had been when Kid was upset, using you as an emotional and physical punching bag to work through his anger. And Kid had been decimated by Shanks while only using a fraction of his power - you couldn’t imagine how much worse your predicament would be under an angry Shanks. You didn’t want to find out.

Between your anxiety, biological drive, and Shanks’s distant mood, you weren’t comfortable or able to relax on the ship. You listened to every sigh for a break in Shanks’s nearly palpable tension.

One day, after Shanks silently watched you drink your morning tea, you couldn’t bear it anymore. The ship had been sailing for about ten days with no islands in sight on the horizon, and Shanks still hadn’t broken out of his stupor. You’d even gone to Benn to ask for advice, though being near another Alpha while Shanks was upset caused your anxiety to spiral. It was still the better option to get advice rather than let Shanks’s bad mood continue. You’d approached Benn while he was smoking and reading the newspaper in the early morning sun, while Shanks still slept.

“Mr. B-Beckman, I -”

“Just Benn,” he replied, his eyes still trained on the paper.

“Benn, I…I um, don’t know, is Shanks…is he, um-” you stammered and fidgeted as Benn continued to read, feeling like a child about to be reprimanded by an adult.

“He’s fine. He’ll perk up eventually.” Benn said in a bland tone, putting out his cigarette in the glass ashtray. His movements were unhurried as he folded up his paper and left to go below deck. You chewed on your lower lip, tasting blood after a few moments. Was he mad at what you’d told Shanks too? Did he know what you’d said? Or did he just have nothing else to say to you? Was the whole crew mad at you? Your gut churned as you continued to overthink the interaction. Every possibility only twisted your tangled emotions further into knots as you returned to the cabin. 

Shanks was stirring, so you quickly got back into the bed before he noticed you weren’t next to him. You typically woke before he did but one morning, he hadn’t found you next to him upon waking and was even stormier in thought and action throughout the day. Now you made sure to be in bed when he woke to try and mitigate the day’s brooding.

“Good morning, Omega,” he said formally, pushing his red bangs off his face with the back of a hand before he pulled you closer. His hair was longer than you’d ever seen it; maybe he should have taken that haircut on the island in your stead.

“Good morning, Shanks,” you said quietly, aware that he wasn’t looking for conversation. He tucked you into his side and ran his fingers down your spine as his eyes took on a faraway look. Your nose wrinkled in displeasure when the scent of last night’s booze hit you. He remained silent as he continued stroking your skin, and you pressed your lips together as a means to focus. Your mind took on a frenzied state, your instincts screaming for you to lick his neck or kiss him or talk or do anything to make him feel better. Your fingers twitched and you almost reached for him but stopped short. The image of Kuro’s blood dripping down Shanks’s throat had you balling your fists to combat your instinctive need to soothe him. You didn’t want to do anything without permission, you were frightened that any unwanted action would threaten the tenuous balance that Shanks was riding right now.

“I’m sure you’ve been up for a while. I’ll go get your tea,” he said in a monotone and pressed a kiss to your forehead before letting you go.. You were practically in tears as he stood up and straightened his spine, so different from the easy shuffle he’d had when you first met. He almost looked like a different person, now stiff and formal, when he’d been so carefree in the past. His dead eyes roved over you, finding nothing worth lingering on before he left the cabin. 

You sat up in the bed and quickly went rifling through his worn shirts, sniffing for the one with the strongest scent. Throwing off your clothes, you donned the extra large shirt and brought the collar to your nose. You took a deep inhale of the Alpha’s scent to calm you down, though you found it slightly soured by the stench of alcohol. Still, you inhaled the rich scent slowly, as if you were savoring it like a fine brandy. You took a few more breaths before the cabin door opened again, revealing the Emperor with your porcelain tea cup.

His eyes flicked over you before giving you a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Outfit change?” he asked, extending the teacup. 

“Thank you, Shanks,” you said as you nodded and took it with shaking fingers. Shanks reached out to steady the cup, seemingly concerned about the tea inside. 

“Whoa, steady. Don’t get it on the bed,” he said, making sure it was cradled in your hands. Once Shanks was satisfied that you had the tea secure, he sat next to you on the bed and loosely wound his arm around your shoulders. “Drink it while it's still warm,” he said tonelessly, his fingers tilting the cup upwards as you sipped the beverage. It seemed like the flavor intensified every day, but you didn’t mind. The tea had a strong woodsy flavor, not something that you’d pick for yourself, but it wasn’t bad either. 

The two of you sat in silence side by side as you sipped, the ship rolling through the currently calm waters. Even though a part of you was calmed by completing a task Shanks asked of you, the lack of emotional connection still drove your immense anxiety. You tried to drink the tea as quickly as you could without burning yourself, eager to show your compliance. Once he saw you had finished the beverage, he held out his hand for you to return the cup. You placed it gently in his palm and Shanks moved to rise from his spot next to you on the bed. Your mind was screaming at you that now was the moment to act; when he was calm and sober, you needed to fix everything . 

“W-wait, please...pl-if you want,” you stammered, sure you were making a fool of yourself. You scanned his impassive face as his eyebrow quirked up.

“Is something wrong?” he asked in a neutral tone, moving the cup to a bedside table. “Did something happen?”

“No, I just…I -” You wrung your hands together as you spoke, unsure what words would both convey your meaning as well as not anger him further. His face softened a little as he raised his hand towards your face. You consciously avoided flinching back as he stroked your cheek with one finger. The tension was so high and you didn’t know how to fix it; you could no longer hold back and your eyes filled with tears. 

“What’s wrong, little Omega? What’s making you upset?” he said gently, his brown eyes finally focusing on you as he turned completely to face you. You felt like you were moving automatically as you finally moved in an attempt to mollify the Emperor. Your emotions fueled your decisions as you moved yourself to straddle his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pulled yourself closer to his own potent scent glands, his rich scent calling to you like a siren, and buried your face in his neck. 

“Mm? This is new,” he said with mild interest, his arm running down your back. You choked back a sob as you felt his fingers roving over the shirt and pushed your face further into his warm, salty skin. You didn’t know what to say or do, usually Shanks led and you followed, but he wasn’t leading. There was nothing for you to follow, he was upset with you, with what you said, what you didn’t say, what you did wasn’t working, nothing was working, he was upset, everyone was upset. Everything was unbalanced and unwell and not right and ruined….

So you did the only thing you could think of at that moment. You put your mouth over his scent glands and bit down. Hard.

Shanks pushed your head back from the crook of his neck gently but firmly, his brows knit together in confusion. You’d heard that when Alphas’ scent glands were bitten, they felt intense pleasure, but Shanks hadn’t made any noise or even movement. He didn’t like it, he was rejecting you, he didn’t want you anymore, he was too upset to keep you, he was going to sell you-

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked quietly, his hand reaching to cradle the back of your head.

Shanks POV

It had taken all of Shanks’s considerable self control not to moan when the Omega had bitten his scent glands. Even now, he wanted to push your head back into place to where you’d been buried in his neck and have you sink your teeth into him again. It was his dream come true, his fantasy, to have you claim him like he so desperately wanted to claim you.

Hongo had unearthed a rare book about Omegas at the previous island and Shanks had finished it over the course of one night. In the past, Omegas had often marked their mates with a bite of their own, which Alphas wore proudly as a mark of distinction. A mating bite by an Omega didn’t have many biological implications beyond strengthening the bond already created by an Alpha, but it showed a love connection between partners. It had been a way to flaunt that partners weren’t only together by fate or designation, that they’d chosen one another. Obviously, things had changed once the availability of Omegas was disrupted by the Celestial Dragons but the idea held appeal. Shanks had told you he wouldn’t mark you until your next heat, and he’d hold himself to that promise. You , however, were free to mark him.

He’d been thinking deeply over the events of his life, drowning himself in whatever alcohol he could find. Ironically, it was the same method used by one of the men consuming many of his thoughts - Silvers Rayleigh. But it wasn’t just Ray that Shanks was reminiscing over - it was Buggy, Mihawk, Roger, Marco, Luffy, Makino, Crocus, Gabban, Shamrock. So many who’d chosen to cast him aside and abandon him when he needed them most. He’d come a long way, he’d had to, but the cost was high. No one had wanted him for who he truly was when he was just Shanks. They wanted the fool, the charmer, the Captain, the Emperor, the swordsman, the father, the brother, the son… but no one wanted him for just Shanks . 

Benn was the closest he’d come to having a true connection, and though it was grounding, it wasn’t enough. Something in Shanks needed someone to consume him whole, to take him as he was and leave nothing unturned and untouched. He ruminated about your near statements, about events in the past, friends lost, enemies gained - Shanks had been down this road many times seeking his answers at the bottom of a bottle of booze.

Despite his drinking, Shanks noticed your easily disturbed sleep and the bags under your eyes, so he put in extra effort to console you. Shanks reached for you constantly, trying to show you that he wasn’t going to harm you like he had Kuro on the island. That you would be safe even in his darkest moments. He’d been in deep funks before, he knew Benn and the crew would come to his aid if he buried himself too deep in his cups. 

Perhaps some of your desire to soothe him was driven by your biological needs, Shanks thought. He’d read that before the Celestial Dragons had disrupted the natural order, Omegas had generally been peacekeepers, able to ease tensions between the different designations. The book had made reference to other powers that Omegas had, but nothing specific was mentioned. Shanks was going to ask Hongo to follow up and find out further information on other islands - after he answered your mating call.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked, trying his best to keep his tone of voice even. The rising need within him was nearly choking his words but the Omega didn’t seem perturbed. You nodded with averted eyes while licking your lips, a perfect picture of submission. Shanks wanted to roar and claw at his skin, but gentled himself so as not to scare you. “We can always stop, I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t wish to do,” he whispered, pushing your hair out of your face. You tilted your head up to look at him, your pupils blown wide.

“I’m sure.”

 Shanks pulled your head towards his own as you wound your arms around his neck. You resumed your former position against his neck, this time kissing and sucking at his scent glands. Shanks did allow himself to groan as your hips started gently rocking against his own, his hand now gripping your outer thigh. Shanks’s cock was rock hard, ready to be buried deep within you as you marked his neck. 

Even as Shanks wanted to flip you onto your back and take control, he found your awkward movements on top of him to be rather sweet. You weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands - they kept flitting from his shoulders to his chest to his back - or with your hips. Shanks wasn’t sure you realized you were moaning as well, light little husks that had pre-come dripping from his cock. He smelled your arousal flowering in the air but wanted to give you the chance to take control. You could have discarded him like so many others had, but you’d come back to him even when he wasn’t at his best. Shanks wanted to show you that you did have choices and that with those choices, you had picked him. 

Your POV

You weren’t sure how to transition from sitting on Shanks’s lap to full blown sex. Shanks was more in the present than he had been since the island, and your instincts were telling you to continue to appease him. Even so, you didn’t quite know what to do and you hoped he couldn’t tell, or that if he did, it wouldn’t displease him. You’d finally been able to change his mood and you didn’t want to spoil it by doing something wrong. 

Before you’d been kidnapped by Kid, you were a virgin since you were always afraid of being with anyone in case your designation was somehow uncovered. With both Kid and Shanks, you’d never been allowed to take the lead - you weren’t even sure what that would look like.  There wasn’t a time you’d had sex with Shanks when you weren’t in heat and you didn’t remember most of the times when you did. You leaned back from Shanks’s neck and took the hem of his shirt with shaking fingers. As you started to raise it over your head, Shanks’s hand caught your forearm softly. 

“We don’t have to rush. There’s nowhere to go, nothing we need to do. We can take our time,” he said into your ear, his beard scratching your cheek. Shanks had stopped shaving a few days prior, the red stubble now an attractive short beard. Your breath hitched as you bit your lip - maybe he didn’t like what you were doing? You’d heard a moan a little while ago - should you bite him again, or maybe kiss him, or-

“Have you ever been on top?” Shanks asked, biting your earlobe gently after he finished speaking. 

“No,” you whispered back, flushing furiously at your lack of experience. You’d done a poor job of initiating, and now he was going to take over, you thought as you braced yourself to be pushed backwards onto the bed. 

“You can be, if you want. I’ll be good for you,” Shanks said teasingly with a genuine smile into the skin of your neck.  He practically purred when he continued and his body relaxed into a more familiar posture, “would you like that?”.

To your surprise, instead of flipping you back, Shanks lay down on the bed with you still on his lap. Now your hands landed on his chest as you leaned over him, your calves on either side of his hips. Shanks’s hand pressed on the middle of your back, bringing your face closer to his.

“What do you think?” he asked, a genuine smile lighting his features. You reflected his smile with your own, the sun finally peeking out from behind the clouds after a lengthy storm. 

“I’m not, um, good at this. I don’t know if you’ll like-”

“Don’t worry about what I like,” he hummed as he settled you more comfortably on top of him. “We’ll learn together,” he said as his fingers ran under the hem of his long shirt on your thighs. “Kiss me,” he husked, his hand reaching up to cup your face. Leaning over him, you planted your hands on either side of his head and took in his handsome features. You bent over and lightly kissed the top of the scar on his face, something you’d always wanted to do but had been too fearful to attempt. 

You worked your way down his face, Shanks allowing you to take your time in exploration. When you finally reached his mouth, he parted his lips but didn’t pull you towards him as you expected. You brushed your lips against his own as Shanks thrust up into you lightly, his heels digging into the bed. He whined as you kissed him again, this time allowing his tongue to sweep into your mouth. Shanks pulled you closer but only to kiss you deeper as he fought his own urge to take control. 

Breaking the kiss, you leaned even closer and began to nibble down his jaw. Shanks pressed himself into you, his hand returning to your thigh to increase the pressure on his aching cock.

“Please,” Shanks groaned as you worked your way down his neck. For the first time, it almost felt like you held power in your hands - one of the strongest men on the planet was whining beneath you, begging for you. It wasn’t real power in the same way as Kid or Shanks or anyone who could fight, but it was something for an Omega like yourself, you supposed. 

You lifted yourself onto your knees and pushed Shanks’s shirt up towards your waist to reveal your now glistening core. Shanks’s hand immediately found its way to its familiar resting place on your ass. After a quick squeeze, you heard the sound of Shanks unbuckling his belt as you leaned down to kiss him again. Shanks shuffled slightly, removing his pants without dislodging you with considerable skill. You felt the tip of his cock prodding at your backside so you reached behind you to feel for it. Your hand couldn’t wrap around its girth as you stroked him lazily. Shanks hissed as your hand continued to work him, your eyelids drooping as you watched Shanks close his eyes and pant wantonly.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, his hand gripping your thigh so tightly you knew there would be bruises the coming day. You placed your hand over his own to move his hand from your thigh to your core. Shanks immediately started running his long fingers through your folds, your wetness coating them liberally. He started to rub at your entrance but quickly moved to your clit, unable to decide where to touch you first. The rough pads of his fingertips started rubbing you, and you clenched in anticipation. You removed his hand from beneath you, wanting to concentrate on your actions. Shanks put his fingers in his mouth, sucking your essence from them as if it were nectar of the gods.

“I need you,” Shanks growled, taking his fingers and putting them near your own mouth.

 As much as he was letting you take the lead, Shanks was still an Apex Alpha who was allowing this exercise to continue. You nodded and sidled backwards, positioning him at your entrance. Using your fingers you spread your folds to get the head of his cock poised to enter you. You lowered yourself down on his cock slowly, savoring the stretch as you sank down until your thighs met his own. You bit down on your lip as you closed your eyes, the pleasure intensifying with every inch he was further inside you. 

“Don’t hide from me,” Shanks said softly, his hand returning to rub at your clit. You opened your eyes as you continued biting your lips. This wasn’t like your heat, where everyone was off the ship. You knew for a fact there were crew milling about the ship, working and relaxing nearby. “Please, Love, let me hear you,” Shanks begged with a soft smile. You nodded and opened your mouth, but no sounds came out other than your panting.

“Start to rock on me, find what feels good for you,” he suggested in a low voice, his fingers continuing to tease. You shifted forwards and backwards as you continued to adjust to his size. It was difficult to believe that you’d taken him so many times during your heat, crying and calling out for him numerous times a day, even multiple times an hour. 

“Try moving your hips in a circle hah t-that’s it,” he crooned as you gyrated on him. Shanks’s heels dug into the bed once again as he resisted the urge to bounce you on his cock. “J-ust like that, s-so perfect,” he stuttered out, holding you in place for a moment to grind into you before returning his hand unerringly to your clit. You felt stuffed full as the band in your lower stomach wound tighter and tighter. 

It wasn’t as easy being on top as you thought. You wanted to please Shanks but couldn’t bounce yourself as quickly as he could thrust into you. You tried a rhythm that worked for you as you leaned forward to shift your weight onto your hands, lowering and raising yourself rapidly. You whined as your quads burned with the effort to continue your pace, but you didn’t want to stop. It felt like you couldn’t move fast enough for what you needed, though riding Shanks did feel pleasurable. You shifted to lean back and put your hands on his shins.

“I can’t c-come like this…c-can you…,” you trailed off, hoping that Shanks would understand the unasked request. Shanks laughed without malice and pulled you to lean over him again.

“We can practice again later, you did so well for your first time,” he said with a bright smile. You squeaked as he shifted and quickly rolled you both over so that you were now on your back, your legs still wrapped around him. “But you need something else, yeah?” he said with a grin as he shifted one of your legs over his shoulder. You did the same with the other, caught in a wicked mating press as Shanks settled his weight over you. It felt like he was melding his essence with your own as he began moving, thrusting deep within you.

Every movement he made hit your g-spot as Shanks also started licking your scent gland. He would whisper compliments to you in between nibbles and bites, which only drove your desire further.

“Such a good little Omega, so p-pretty, did such a nnh good job riding me…you need me, hm? Need this from me, just like I need y-you. Such a sweet hneh Omega…” Shanks continued a steady babble of soft praise as he pounded into you, his pace ever increasing. You tried not to hold back your sounds and close your eyes like he’d asked, but it was difficult to stay in the present as pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. Tears pricked your eyes at the mounting sensations, the coil in your gut winding increasingly tighter.

“Sh-aaanks!” you cried as you came around his length, your vision fading to white. You reared back your head and impulsively bit his own glands which were tantalizingly close to your mouth. He didn’t let up for a moment, fucking you without abandon as he roared his own orgasm, his hot come spurting inside you. 

As you came back down, you heard someone moaning and whimpering, only to realize it was coming from your own mouth. You hadn’t actually marked Shanks by penetrating his skin but if he had fucked you any harder, you weren’t sure you’d ever walk right again. Shanks was still stroking your clit so you whined and pushed his hand away. 

“C’n you give me one more?” he asked, his beard scratching at your neck. You shook your head weakly, unsure if you’d survive another round. “Aw, c’mon, Love. Just one more,” he said with a smile. You let out a light humph and removed your legs from around him, letting them splay to either side. Shanks laughed again and shifted the two of you to let you lie on his chest. “S’ok, you can rest,” he said, kissing the top of your head as you yawned. 

You laid down on top of the Alpha, content to let him take control from here on out. You’d finally coaxed him out of his bad mood and helped him regulate his emotions, which in turn was helping your own. You weren’t sure if you acted from self preservation or your base Omega instincts, but either way you felt content as you listened to the steady heartbeat of the Alpha beneath you.

Shanks POV

Shanks rubbed the back of the sleeping of the Omega in his bed, pulling the covers up higher on your body as you napped. Shanks was awake after the love making session, though you’d worn yourself out. He was pleased for you to have some true rest after the days of anxiety had worn you down. You finally trusted him enough to relax again in his presence, secure in the safety he provided for you.

The bite on his neck stung a little but it was the sweetest pain he’d ever felt. He tried to use his haki to determine if there was any headway into making a connection with the Omega but couldn’t detect anything different. Though a touch disappointing, he wouldn’t be concerned until after he marked you during your upcoming heat. Based on the medication he’d been giving you in the tea, you’d be in heat in about a week. Just as the Red Force was able to dock at another island. 

Shanks rubbed the bite gingerly, wishing that none of your shallow tooth marks would fade from his skin. It was funny - he had lost his left arm saving Luffy, gotten a facial scar on his left hand side from Teach, and now had an Omega’s bite on the left side of his neck. Significant events in his life were written in flesh and blood on his body, available for all to see. Well visible for a little while, until you made it permanent.

As Shanks watched over you sleeping, you let out a little sigh and nuzzled further into his chest, seeking his protection and warmth. Shanks let out a satisfied hum of his own - he’d finally won you over, you’d chosen him for protection, for connection, for love. All that was left was to seal it. 

“You know, that’s the first time you’ve smiled at me outside of heat,” he said as he ran a thumb over the back of your hand. You ducked your head as your cheeks heated at being called out so bluntly. But it also made you wonder what he meant by outside of heat. Had you been so happy during your fucked out phase that you smiled frequently? You considered questioning him on it but you had learned your place on Kid’s ship. You answered his question instead as you did your best to push your concerns away.

“Yes, please, I’d like to visit the island,” you stated and hoped your tone was deferential enough for him not to take it as sass. 

“Lovely! There’s nothing more fun than a day trip. We’ll get food on the island too, I’ll go grab some cash from Benn’s cabin. Let’s get moving,” he said as he turned and pulled you along behind him. You kept your eyes on the floor while you followed along meekly, too embarrassed to make eye contact with the crew on deck. After your heat abated, some of the crew had come back to the ship to sleep or gather belongings. Of course, they knew what transpired, it wasn’t like it was a secret, but it still made you feel self conscious to know they’d all been kicked off the ship because you had copious amounts of sex with their Captain. It seemed like Shanks did not have any of the same lingering shame that you did and carried himself as he always did. He was even wearing his Emperor’s cloak that you had in your nest through your heat, though he did wash it thankfully. Shanks pulled you to the middle of the deck while he continued on the way to Benn’s cabin.

“Stay right there, I’ll be back in a moment. Unless Benn changed the locks to his safe again, then it’ll take me a few minutes to pick them,” he called out as he left you standing near the main mast. Left on your own for the first time in days, you shifted your weight from foot to foot and looked down at your feet. You were still wearing Shanks’s far too large clothes rolled up at the wrists and ankles along with being barefooted. Luckily the fair weather made it easy to tolerate the breezy clothing until Shanks purchased proper clothing for you. You stilled when you heard footsteps approaching you and a familiar pair of shoes made their appearance in your field of sight. 

“Hiya,” Hongo said as he stopped in front of you. You weren’t sure how much Shanks wanted you to engage with his crew but, he had allowed Hongo near you in the past.

“Hi,” you rasped quietly with your eyes still trained on his boots, waiting for the Beta to tell you what he wanted.

“Look up please,” Hongo requested in a clinical tone. You immediately raised your head but were careful to avoid eye contact. You flinched back when he reached for you, old memories rising to the surface as your back hit the mast behind you.

“It’s alright, I just need to do a quick assessment. Quite the heat, no?” he said conversationally as you felt a familiar warmth crawl across your face. You gave a small nod in response as he tilted your head to look at the old bite. “Looks better, maybe healed faster during a heat with a new Alpha. I read that can happen sometimes, kind of interesting,” he hummed to himself while he ran a finger over the stitches. You heard rumbling in the background that pulled a laugh from Hongo.

“ ‘S alright Cap. Just checking her old bite before your date,” Hongo said before he removed his fingers from your skin. A familiar scent wafted to your nose as Shanks’s arm came to rest on your shoulders. You could still hear the rumbling from his chest but it subsided as his fingers drummed on the column of your neck, pulling you closer to Shanks’s chest. You peeked up at the large Alpha and felt your skin start to crawl at the sight of Shanks’s smile. It wasn’t the bright one that he had given you before that had the skin by his eyes crinkling, his stiff jaw and hard eyes making his expression look almost feral. You fought the urge to cower but Hongo just laughed again as your anxiety wound tighter.

It didn’t feel like the time to ask if this was a date or what your relationship with Shanks actually was. The questions concerning your next move or whether you would stay were something you’d been turning over in your mind since your heat started to wane. Yes, the Emperor had saved you from Kid and taken you from the ship before sinking it. He’d also helped you physically and guided you through your first heat, but you weren’t sure what that meant for the future. He hadn’t given you a claiming bite so you were technically still free. Shanks had also mentioned that you couldn’t reintegrate into society but, maybe he would be open to setting you free if you negotiated some kind of quid pro quo. You couldn’t be completely alone again but maybe there was some kind of alternative to being with Shanks on the seas. You didn’t hate Shanks, but you didn’t love him either. You’d gone unwillingly from one Alpha to another and you wanted to regain some of your independence that you’d worked so long to maintain.

“Gotta work on that jealousy, ‘s not gonna help you,” Hongo teased Shanks while taking another step back. Shanks huffed but the tension between the men eased as you snapped back to attention. Shanks’ arm tightened around you and he kissed the top of your head for good measure before you both started walking towards the dinghy that would take you to shore.

A short boat ride and walk later, you were strolling down the main boardwalk of the island with your hand still tucked within Shanks’s larger one. He hadn’t let it go and you hadn’t pulled it away, the familiar weight and warmth bringing you comfort. The marketplace was charming but it was overwhelming to be on land near so many strangers after months of being at sea with only a small group of people. On top of the bustle of the crowd, everything seemed to be intent on assaulting your senses as the smells and sounds of the market were more vivid than you remembered. You’d passed the trinket section before you neared the food stalls near the beach but everything was taking much longer than you’d expected. The villagers and vendors were excited to see the Emperor and often stopped him for small talk while you stood there silently. 

Shanks, thankfully, never made you speak nor did he try to show you off. When people tried to address you or offer you some of their wares, Shanks allowed you to hide behind him like the coward you felt yourself to be. You felt the back of your neck prickle like someone was watching you and that every movement was being tracked. You weren’t able to catch anyone in the act but it felt like eyes were always on you, even without Shanks bestowing his attention on you. 

Shanks had offered to buy you something to eat but you’d declined - the scents had grown to be almost nauseating and a headache had begun its steady throb across your temples. You didn’t remember everything being so much when you were on Beta Island. As you passed a particularly odorous food stall, you nearly gagged and had to use a hand to cover your mouth with Shanks’s sleeve to dilute the stench.

“You alright, Love?” Shanks asked as he quizzically looked between you and the food stall. They were selling taiyaki, which had been one of your favorite foods on your old island. Now the pungent odor of the sizzling oil and red bean paste made your stomach roll. You nodded in response but you kept your mouth covered with his shirt. Shanks’s eyebrows knitted together before he pulled you into a nearby alley away from prying eyes. Fresh air was still in short supply with the plethora of smells and scents so, you crouched down and put your head between your hands. 

You felt yourself get pulled into Shanks’s lap as the Emperor sat on the dirty ground of the alley, his hand gentle as he massaged your neck while his strong arm pulled you to his chest. You leaned into his familiar touch and brought your nose to the crook of his warm neck to inhale his scent. It calmed you more than you were expecting and you were able to take more deep breaths of his strong Alpha scent. His musk replaced the cloying smells of the market and your body grew slack as the pounding in your head receded. It felt like he was cocooning you against the real world, the only thing you needed was your Alpha to help guide you through your troubles.

“ ‘M sorry, not sure what’s wrong with me,” you mumbled into his skin as you pressed yourself into his scent glands. A niggling desire in you had you wanting to bite them but the thought was shooed away as soon as it appeared.

“Hongo said it might take you some time to adjust to normal now that you’re not on suppressants. It’s alright, we can take it easy. We’ll sit here for as long as you need,” he replied softly while his hand continued to rub slow circles on your neck. You nodded and his scent washed over you to soothe your aches as you scooted even closer to Shanks. Maybe you could see a future that included Shanks, you thought as you laid your head against his collarbones.

Shanks POV

All too soon the little Omega opened her eyes and showed she was ready to continue the trip when she pushed herself back from Shanks’s neck. Shanks allowed her room to stand up before did the same himself and settled his hand on the small of her back to guide her back to the marketplace. He usually enjoyed meeting the people in his territory and hearing about their lives. Shanks took pride in his people being happy and his most common way to spend time on islands was to plop down in some tavern and socialize. The laughter and conversation often became boisterous with the people who would come and go as they bought him drinks all day long. 

This time the experience differed as a strange itch caused by the little Omega grew under his skin. She wasn’t doing anything to upset him with her timid nature; she would hide behind him as he spoke with vendors and citizens. Shanks suspected it was the lack of claiming bite on her neck that bothered him and it made him set his usual carefree behavior to the side. She wasn’t bound to him in any true way, even though she clung to his hand like a life preserver as they wound their way through the stalls. Shanks could claim her at any time but it was said that a bond made during a heat cycle was the strongest of all and the least likely to reject. When he claimed the Omega it would be done properly.

Shanks had spoken to Hongo, who had started researching ways to bring the Omega into heat faster than her cycle would normally call for. Hongo wasn’t sure exactly when the Omega would go into heat again since it was already beyond irregular, so he didn’t think it would be a bad idea to force it into some kind of regular rhythm with medication. There weren’t a lot of medical resources available for Omegas but Shanks had faith in his crew’s abilities to perform the jobs he requested of them. He would claim her once the Omega went into heat again and, they’d both feel much more comfortable with their place in the world. Shanks’ thoughts continued to paw through possibilities as he led her towards the textile area of the market when you drew to a sudden halt.

“Look, they have a barber,” she said in her low tone. Shanks was curious about the voice she had lost but the permanent rasp in her voice never failed to send a shiver down his spine. He wouldn’t have let her change it even if she could. He peered in the direction she had turned her head and Shanks saw the familiar red and blue pole indicating a barber shop. 

“So they do,” Shanks said while he kept his tone carefully neutral. He mentally flipped through his current options and decided to acquiesce to her request as it could only benefit his attempts to build trust with her. “Would you still like to cut your hair?” he asked as he turned her to face him. The way her eyes brightened paired with the almost appearance of one of her rare smiles told him he made the right call. “After you, Darling,” he said before he opened the door to the bright interior.

“My Emperor! To what do we owe the surprise? Are we to be honored enough to cut the red hair off Red Haired Shanks?” A pudgy middle aged man called out and bowed deeply. Shanks sheepishly smiled at the man’s dramatic greeting before he moved the Omega to stand in front of him.  Her nose wrinkled at the scent of the antiseptic used for the combs as her eyes swept around the small, but neat, barbershop. A young man hovered by the barber and snapped to attention when Shanks came in. The barber smacked him out of his reverent stance before he sent him off on an errand, and the young boy skidded out the back door in his hurry.

“Ah, not for me, but would you mind cutting my Omega’s hair? She would like a trim,” he stated as she looked down at herr feet and wiggled her still bare toes. 

“O-of course, dear Emperor. Please, please have a seat,” the man hurriedly said as he ushered the Omega into a barber’s chair and Shanks into the one next to it. “Unless, er, perhaps you would like her to sit with you? I apologize, sir, I’ve never encountered an Omega before. I’m not sure what the rules of engagement are and I don’t want to -” Shanks laughed and clapped the barber on the shoulder lightly.

“Not to worry friend, I know you mean no harm. Besides, my Omega can bear to be without my touch for a few moments,” he said, tossing his sweet Omega a grin. She returned his grin with a blank face but nodded, the addition of a stranger having brought back her silence. The barber looked over the condition of her hair as he sprayed it down with water. She flinched at the feel of the soft spray against her skin and gripped the arms of the chair as she did her best to ignore the barber’s movements. Shanks reached out to soothe her and stroked her hand, sorry he hadn’t thought to warn her about the water. Shanks considered the overgrown mane she currently sported as he sat back in his chair. Shanks was loath for the entire length to go since he wanted most of it to remain for her next heat. Still, he wanted her trust in him to grow so he reasoned a small trim would be enough to mollify her .  

“And how would you like her hair cut, Emperor?” the barber queried as he brushed out the Omega’s hair. 

“I think cutting off the dead ends would be best, yes?” Shanks called out as he rested one foot over his knee. The Omega had opened her mouth to say something but had closed it as Shanks responded for her. The barber didn’t ask her opinion of the Alpha’s request and she didn’t offer it as he began to cut quite a few inches off the ends of her hair. It was still long enough for him to wrap around his fist, so it would be okay. The young boy came back with a cold six pack of beer which he presented to the Emperor with a flourish.

“That’s awfully kind of you, thanks, kid,” Shanks said with a grin as he took one of the bottles. He popped the top off with Gryphon’s hilt and the metal cap clinked to the floor. “Would you like one too?” The kid looked at the barber who issued him a parent’s silent command with a wide eyed look and a firm nod.

“O-of course, Emperor, thank you,” the young man said while he grabbed one for himself.

“And one for Dad too, yeah?” Shanks said and tossed another at the boy. The kid caught it with a broad smile which Shanks returned with the same enthusiasm. Shanks could feel it in his bones that this kid was a troublemaker. The boy opened his father’s bottle and set it on the counter as the older man worked on the Omega’s hair.

“Whatcha want to do when you get older, kid?” Shanks asked before he took a swig from his bottle. 

“I’m gonna leave this island and become a pirate!” The young man proclaimed and thumped his chest. The older man clenched his jaw hard enough to make his salt and pepper mustache wiggle but stayed silent.

“Is that so? You think you have what it takes?” Shanks continued to drink as he teased the young boy. 

“Yeah, I do! I’m strong, brave, and I wanna be free!” He exclaimed and did his best to mimic Shanks’ casual way of drinking. He made a face after his sip but Shanks was content to let him have his moment. 

“Being a pirate is the ultimate freedom, it’s true. Nothin’ like it,” Shanks mused and polished off his beer with a final swig. The Omega’s cut was nearly done, the barber now fussing over her hairstyle as he ran the brush through her slightly shorter hair. 

“What do you think, Emperor?” the barber asked and turned her to face Shanks. He had a mirror near the back of her head to conveniently show Shanks the complete cut without having to turn her around again. 

“Lovely as ever, wonderful job,” Shanks replied as the Omega stood up and softly touched her hair before she pulled it forward to see the results. Shanks pulled some beri out of his pocket and handed it to the kid.

“See ya on the seas,” Shanks said with a wink. The kid blushed so hard Shanks thought he was going to pass out as the two of you left the shop.

Your POV

You tried to get a look at your haircut via the glass as you left the barber shop, still being pulled along by Shanks. You weren’t able to see the back but then again, you weren’t asked what you had wanted anyway. Additionally, Shanks hadn’t offered you a beer out of the six pack or even asked if you were thirsty. You pressed your lips into a thin as you cataloged the various slights but did your best to ignore them as you continued down the sidewalk.

“Ready to go clothes shopping, Love? Bet you’re tired of wearing my stuff,” Shanks asked as he looked down at you, his arm around your shoulder. The sidewalk you were on had few people, the streets had cleared out for people to take their midday break. You nodded and after a few minutes of walking in silence, Shanks guided you to a women’s clothing store and held the door open for you. The racks of premade clothes, the bright lights, and the scents of lotions and perfumes were a lot for you to take in. You took a step back into Shanks, who simply kissed the top of your head as salespeople began to swarm you and the Emperor.

“We’re in need of women’s clothing, bring us a selection,” Shanks boomed out to the employees in the store. He wasn’t trying to be rude or intimidating but the nicely dressed Betas looked at one another before they gave you an assessing once over. They dispersed to all sections of the large store in a flurry, some going for shoes, others for dresses, shirts, pants, anything you could ever want. The nicest dressed man of them all calmly approached Shanks with his palms up in supplication. As he neared you noticed that the thin man’s upper lip was beaded with perspiration despite the cool temperature of the store.

“Emperor, I am Kuro, and this is our humble establishment. Please allow us to serve you and your Omega to the best of our abilities. To that end, would you prefer to observe from our comfortable couches while the Omega tries on our wares?” he said with a simpering tone and adjusted his circle framed glasses with his long fingers. You didn’t like the reedy man- while the barber had also only addressed Shanks, the salesman felt slimier somehow to you and you fought the urge to recoil further into Shanks. His scent was amiss too, but it was difficult to discern why it smelt wrong with so many perfumes in the air. Shanks didn't seem to notice anything odd and guided you down the hallway towards the dressing rooms in the back of the store. There was a large cushy couch in front of a coffee table, laden with champagne, hard alcohol and canapes that was adjacent to the try on rooms.

“It’ll be like a fashion show, pick what you want and show me how it looks,” Shanks suggested as you gripped the velvet of his cloak. Your gut told you that being seperated from him was a bad idea though you couldn’t articulate why. He glanced down at your fist clamped on his cloak and he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here the whole time,” he reassured you as he gently pried your fingers off, and sank down into the couch before he kicked his feet up on the pristine table.

You walked to the changing area while the slender man held the door open for you, three saleswomen already bringing you armfuls of clothes. You were practically pushed into one of the stalls as saleswomen handed you assorted items to try on. Some underwear and a bra were the first items pressed into your hands before they herded you towards the private changing room. You closed the door and removed Shanks’s clothes, taking care to fold them neatly and place them on the small chair inside the dressing room. You put on the underwear, thankful to whoever thought about it. Even if you bought nothing else in the store, at least you’d have some coverage now.

You used the next few minutes to look over your haircut in the floor length mirror since you hadn’t had a chance to get a good look yet. It was alright, you supposed, but it wasn’t really what you wanted. You had wanted it really short, above your shoulders but this was more of a trim that kept your hair longer. Maybe you would be able to convince Shanks another time, you thought as you frowned at the strand you held between your fingers. 

Turning your gaze to the mountain of clothes set out for you, you picked up the first shirt from the pile. It was more feminine than you tended to prefer, the cut designed to hug your body rather than the baggier clothes you usually wore. In fact, if Shanks’s clothes had been closer to your size, you and the Emperor could match every day. You liked large, breezy garments that allowed for movement and ease of mobility without showing off your body. Maybe there would be something else for you in the growing piles outside the dressing rooms.

“How’s it going in there?” Shanks yelled from the lounging area. With a small sigh, you grabbed the first pair of pants you saw from the pile as well and barely gave yourself a glance in the mirror as you pulled them on. They hugged your curves and clung to your legs in a way that left little to the imagination to your immense dislike. You opened the white painted wooden door, the scent of fresh paint strong in your nose. But it wasn’t strong enough to hide the faint odor of a Beta somewhere close to the small changing room. You hadn’t heard any footsteps going to any of the other dressing rooms and an alarm rang in your head as the proximity of the smell fully registered with you.

You nearly ran down the hallway that separated you from the Emperor to the lounge area. Shanks gave you a whistle and moved his finger in a stirring motion, so you obediently turned in a slow circle to show off the whole outfit. It was far from the worst thing that had ever happened to you but that didn’t make it any less demeaning as Shanks shamelessly ran his eyes down your body. The closeness of the unseen Beta made your skin prickle while a cold sweat began to dot your forehead. Your instincts screamed at you that something was wrong and you wanted to leave, now .

“Love it, get the outfit if you want,” Shanks said while he emptied a flute of champagne. “Try on some dresses too,” he suggested before he set down the glass to grab some hors d'oeuvres. You sat down next to him on the couch and gripped his knee as the salespeople looked at one another.

“Sh-shanks, there’s someone there,” you whispered to him. He smiled at you and wiped his hand on his shirt, then he settled his hand on top of your own in a failed attempt to placate you.

“Love, there’s a lot of people here. Are the scents too strong or-”

“Is everything alright here? May I refresh your beverage Emperor?” Kuro, just beyond your reach. Your eyes bounced between him and Shanks as your throat threatened to close from fear.

“N-no, there’s someone in the changing room, I could smell them as I came out. Please, please d-don’t make me go back there,” you begged while you gripped his pants with your fists. Shanks’s smile dropped as his gaze tightened at your frightened plea. He looked as much the Emperor as he had been the first night you’d met him and you shrank back from him on the couch. He stilled for a moment as his eyes seemed to focus on something you couldn’t see.

Before you could react Shanks whipped towards Kuro and sank his fangs into the thin man’s neck. Kuro’s garbled wail was replaced by the sickening sound of tearing flesh and sinew as Shanks ripped out his throat and spat it on the floor. The hunk of flesh landed on the now bloodied floor with a wet smack that broke you out of your frozen state. You opened your mouth to scream in horror but nothing came out as you watched the blood drip from the Emperor’s mouth. Shanks seemed unphased when he pushed the now dying man over, where he slumped on the floor as blood gurgled out of the open wound in a steady gush. 

“Bad outcome,” Shanks stated as he wiped the blood still dripping from his fangs onto his cloak. You responded to the gore just as you had on the Victoria Punk; you closed your eyes, covered your ears, and curled as small as you could. 

Shanks POV

Shanks sensed there would be a problem at the clothing store even before they entered. Something wasn’t hadn’t been quite right and Shanks had spent enough years on the sea to know to listen to his gut. Still, his Omega needed clothes and if Shanks couldn’t protect her from whatever it was, she’d be dead either way. So he’d allowed himself to be lured to the couch, drank the champagne, and pretended to be interested in whatever the pirate was trying to sell him. Better to play along while she was out of sight and keep his ears pricked for signs of trouble than potentially put her in worse danger.  

 When she returned from trying on her outfit, his fangs elongated of their own volition at the sight of her. He made sure to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible while he took in her tense posture and pale face before he beckoned her closer. He stiffened when he heard her hushed warning about a Beta lurking near the dressing room and allowed his future sight to wash over him.  

A searing rage erupted in him at what was intended for the Omega. The store, though it did sell clothes, was a front for a slaving operation led by the main salesman, Kuro. Kuro had heard that an unclaimed Omega was on the island and had already located a buyer willing to pay billions of beri for her. Kuro tried to separate you from Shanks as another pirate waited in your dressing room, ready to gag and restrain you and take you back through the secret door in the mirror. 

How Kuro was so arrogant to think he’d be able to take an Emperor’s Omega, Shanks didn’t know. What he did know was that seeing his sweet Omega bound and terrified in that vision, crying as someone kidnapped you again had his fangs in Kuro’s throat before he could think. The metallic tang of the Beta’s blood filled his mouth as he ripped out the pirate’s throat as easily as biting into a peach. The store erupted into chaos as blood gushed from their boss’s neck, the other slavers fleeing through secret exits as they screamed. Kuro’s body crumpled to the ground with a small shove, his final breaths a dull wheeze as his throat landed on the floor beside him.

When he turned to the Omega, she was curled up on the couch in a shaking ball. She cringed away from him when he put his hands on her and peeked her eyes open to peer at the Alpha. She put her hands up in front of her like Shanks was going to hurt her but didn’t bolt away. Pale and shaking, she whimpered as Shanks picked her up and left the store, passing Yasopp and Lime Juice on his way back to the marina.

“The clothing store’s a front for slavers. Find the people already taken, and free them. Still need women’s clothes from the store, bring some back to the ship. Deal with everyone else as you see fit,” Shanks said and jerked his head back towards the clothing store. As an Emperor, it was his duty to prevent slavery in his territories and to send a message that Red Haired Shanks wouldn’t allow his people to come to harm. The islands that flew his flag were under his protection and such behavior going on under his nose was an insult to his reputation. Shanks looked down at the still quivering Omega as she buried her face in his neck and her arms maintained a weak grip on his broad shoulders.

“Hey, nothing bad happened. It was going to, but I stopped it, yeah? I’ll always help you,” he murmured and placed a kiss on the top of her head as he walked her back through the market. The small gesture was one of his favorites, his way of showing you that he cared about you. The tenderness was tainted this time by the blood stains left in your hair from his face, your new cut now ruined. Shanks frowned but didn’t have another hand with which to wipe it off. 

She didn’t respond either, not that he expected her to. She’d been quiet all day, overwhelmed by your senses and struggling to readjust to life without suppressants like Hongo had said. Shanks guided her through it all, glad to be her safe harbor in stormy weather. He’d enjoyed caring for her, spending time with her, and showing her that there was still some fun to be had in the world. He was so proud that she had sought him out to help her when she needed it, showing how much more reliant on him she had already become.

“Love, look at me,” he requested in a quiet voice and gently nudged her head with his chin. She shook her head in a rare act of defiance and nestled further into him. Normally, Shanks would revel in this sensation, but he wanted to reassure her verbally. Shanks frowned at her behavior and repeated his request with a Command behind it.

“Love, look at me.”

She pulled back just enough to reveal her face as she glanced up at him through her eyelashes. She didn’t seem herself, even the overwhelmed or scared versions he’d already witnessed. Her eyes had a glazed, absent look like your mind was far off in some other place that Shanks couldn’t reach. Though he had arrived at the marina and could take the dinghy back to the Red Force, Shanks instead sat down on a bench facing the water with her on his lap. Her eyes were still trained on him as he’d told her to but that did nothing to distract him from the unsettling blankness behind them.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he Commanded. Shanks knew it wasn’t fair - Commands weren’t meant to be used to have Omegas express their thoughts or feelings - but Shanks needed insight, needed to know what to do to bring that light back into her eyes. After the Command registered, she finally came back from her thoughts. She blinked several times and bit her lips shut to try to avoid the compulsion to answer. All the while she still stared at Shanks, as if truly seeing him for the first time.

“I - I -...” she started before she clamped her mouth shut again. It broke his heart to see her so unsure and scared.

“No matter what you say, I won’t be mad. I promise,” he said while he ran his hand up and down her back in an attempt at reassurance. She was still in the new clothes you’d changed into from the clothing store and the diminished smell of him on her made his primal instincts scream in indignation. There really wasn’t anything she could say that would sway his love but he knew she needed a lot of support and gentle handling given your background.

“What’s my name?” She asked quietly, her gaze on the sea as she sat on his lap. 

“What’s that, Love?” Shanks asked in surprise at her simple question. He expected her to talk about the bloodshed, or his power, or how overwhelmed she was - anything but that.

“My name isn’t ‘Love.’ Do you know my real name?” She asked again in her deep voice. Shanks considered her for a moment before he flashed her a smile that made his scars wink across his face.

“Guess not! Didn’t ask you, huh? Oof, I feel like a real heel.” he said while he rubbed her cheek with his thumb in slow strokes. “I thought you were scared of what happened in the store but you’re just worrying about silly little -”

“It’s not silly,” she said with a blank face as she continued to look away from him. Shanks frowned as he shifted her closer to his chest and wrapped his arm around her middle. He had half a mind to Command her to stop her talking about this unimportant topic but he said he wouldn’t be upset by whatever she said. “I don’t - you treat me like….like I’m just an Omega,” you said in a small unwavering voice.

“You are an Omega, Love,” Shanks replied and his eyebrows knit together as the point of her statement missed him completely. Perhaps he should ask Hongo to better explain her designation, maybe knowing more would help her adjust to her new reality.

“I’m more than that. I’m a person first.”

“Of course. No one is saying you aren’t -”

“You don’t treat me like a person. You treat me like I’m an object, something to possess, a treasure -” Shanks’s eyes narrowed as his fingers tightened on her waist. He tried to collect his thoughts as they raced at her admonishment and express them in a way your frazzled mind would understand.

“Yes, you’re a treasure. You’re my treasure -”

“I don’t want to go back to the -”

“ Stop talking,” Shanks Commanded her, his jaw clenched hard enough for a vein to stand out in his neck even as he continued to hold her gently. Her mouth snapped shut as she avoided his gaze and she hunched her shoulders as she felt a rumble begin to vibrate along her back. Shanks wasn’t sure how much of what she’d said was because he compelled her but he didn’t want to hear the rest of those thoughts. How could she say she didn’t want to return to his ship, to return to him ? How could she reject him after all he’d done for her, trying to leave him after he’d just shown her how he would protect her, help her, guide her? The rumble that emanated from his chest was like a war cry, not the soothing purr she had become used to. Shanks wanted to roar his anger loud enough for other islands to hear it, to slice the island in two with Gryphon, to hide her away where she’d never be able to leave him again. 

Tears streamed down her face as you remained silent under his Command. She sniffled and tried her best not to move, her strong scent of fear now wafting towards Shanks in a biological gesture of supplication to soothe his ire. Her fingers were intertwined tightly enough to whiten her knuckles as she tried to self soothe. Shanks’s anger deflated as he took in her pathetic form while he looked down at her.

  Of course she didn’t want to go back to the ship , he thought, she was scared and confused. She probably had a flashback at the clothing store to her time with Kid and Shanks’s surge of possessive anger did little to help.  He belatedly realized he didn’t tell her why he ripped out that man’s throat in front of her. At this point she probably assumed he was prone to erratic and extreme violence like Kid had been. He sighed and unwound his hand from her side to reach for her face. She flinched as he cupped her cheek but didn’t pull back.

“Love, I know you’re having a hard time adjusting. I’m not going to hold any of what you said against you, like I promised. Haven’t I kept all my promises?” Shanks asked while he wiped away an errant tear. She did her best to not dislodge Shanks’s hand when she responded with a small nod.

“How can we separate? Those people were slavers - they wanted to sell you to a Celestial Dragon, they already had a buyer lined up. I had to get rid of Kuro to protect you and the other people they’d already taken,” he explained gently as she sniffled again.

“You need someone to protect you, to prevent things like that from happening again. If not Celestial Dragons, you’d end up with someone like Kaido or Big Mom. You wouldn’t want that, right?” She shook her head at his questions, as the reason why she had to remain with Shanks finally hit her. He felt a little guilty but he needed to drive the point home, to make her see that she needed to stay with him. 

“Besides, you can’t even walk around by yourself, right? Remember this morning when we had to take a break for you to smell me? We’re well on the way to bonded if you’re acting like that, it’s going to happen sooner or later. We’ll be bonded and we’ll settle down into a life of happiness together, yeah? Everything will be so much easier for us both. You need me just like I need you,” Shanks said in a low croon and turned her face toward his. “Look at me, little Omega,” he asked this time without a Command. Her red rimmed eyes met his own as he leaned down within a hair's breadth of her face.

“We were meant to be,” Shanks said before he captured her lips in a kiss that seared the reality of her future with him into her mind.

Shanks POV

Shanks was a little sad your heat was finally abating after five days. Your demands for his touch and comfort were coming in increasingly longer intervals and you expressed a desire for food and drink. On one hand, he was glad it was ending. You looked worse for the wear, run down, and exhausted. Hongo had been right that the heat would be challenging for you physically. Heat had caused your appetite for food to be completely gone and in conjunction with the intense physical activity you’d lost weight off your already malnourished frame. You had dark circles under your eyes and had scratched at your healing neck wound until Shanks had Commanded you to stop touching it. You’d be able to recover after the heat was fully over but it was dragging out over the course of long hours.

On the other hand, he had enjoyed your heat - maybe a little too much. Through sheer force of will Shanks hadn’t descended into rut and was able to keep his immense power contained. He’d fucked you in every conceivable position that kept you under him and even had allowed you on top once. But the real reason he’d enjoyed it so much was because he’d Commanded you to love him. A Command he repeated quite a few times, most of the time if he actually stopped and thought about it. Shanks was addicted to the way you’d look up at him through your lashes, pulling him in for tender kisses with your tongue meeting his own. How you’d moan his name, not his designation when he made you come on his cock or tongue. How you’d smile at him when he came in you, urging him to cuddle with you afterward, to hold you closer for just a few minutes longer. You’d laugh when he told you sweet nothings into your ear, happily giggling as his stubble tickled your cheek. When he Commanded you to love him, your body language changed - you were carefree, sweeter, and more romantic. 

It was like a glimpse into a world he’d heard about but never experienced before. Shanks had fucked thousands of times before he met you, it wasn’t anything new for him. He’d even made love a few times when he found a stable someone to enjoy it with. But every new beginning came with a prescribed end. No matter how sweet the love or how rough the tumble, Shanks would be leaving in the morning, the Red Force would be sailing away, and his newest lover would remain where they were. He didn’t have the time to let himself get attached or to let anyone really enter his life beyond his crew since he was always leaving, the future uncertain. There was no question about the inevitable outcome, fucking only granted him a few hours of respite from the loneliness that threatened to consume him whole. 

Shanks had long felt like there was something in his heart that was missing or somehow walled off from everyone else. Like there was a piece of glass wedged in, separating his true emotions from those he held dear. He hadn’t always felt that way - as a child, his life was filled with love. He had Roger, Rayleigh, Buggy, tand he whole crew always with him to provide support and guidance. But Roger died, Rayleigh abandoned him, Buggy left, and the whole crew blew away like dust after Loguetown. Shanks had no one and nothing, only the memories of the world’s most hated pirate and the loss of his family. He’d eventually found Beckman while at the bottom of a bottle and had built himself a crew and a name for himself. But the feeling of aloneness, of never wholly belonging to anyone or anything had become a permanent scar on his heart. He’d tried to find a connection through Luffy but he ultimately had to abandon the kid all the same. 

But you - you were different. You weren’t able to leave him, not now or ever. He had kept his word, he hadn’t marked you this heat. It had been incredibly challenging, every fiber in him wanting to bite down on your soft flesh to warn off any Alpha who would dare look your way. Shanks had persevered, you could walk away at any point and he would have no physical claim over you.  Except you had nowhere to go. You couldn’t reintegrate back into society with so many people knowing your designation and your Beta cover thoroughly blown. You couldn’t go to the Marines, they’d turn you into the Celestial Dragons who would make a slave of you. You couldn’t join another pirate crew, no one was powerful enough to challenge Shanks for you and win. No, you were his and his alone. He could keep you and you’d always be with him, no matter what. 

He looked down at you as you slept tucked into his side facing him, your hair a mess after so many days without bathing. You looked like a fallen angel, innocent but ruined under his hand, his marks littering your skin like a series of tattoos. He’d been purring for you for the last few hours, keeping you relaxed and sleeping until one of the final rounds of heat. Hongo said that once the heat ended you would want to clean up but Shanks hoped you kept at least a little of the copious amounts of cum on your skin. There wasn’t an area on you that he hadn’t bitten or marked or rubbed his cum into or kissed; he’d consumed you whole. He trailed his fingers down your side, making you jerk in your sleep. Really, he should let you rest. But his cock had other ideas and well, Shanks was always one to listen. He thought by the end of five days of heat he’d be sated but every movement you made had his cock throbbing like it was the first time.

“Love, do you need me? You were moaning in your sleep,” Shanks said quietly in your ear while pushing your hair off your face. Your eyelids twitched but you didn’t open them. Shanks rolled you gently onto your back as you mewled a small protest.

“Shh, it’s alright. I’ll care of you,” Shanks rumbled through his purr. It wasn’t exactly fair to keep purring while he attended to you but he knew you’d want what he was going to give you. Shanks parted your legs, your tired thighs falling to either side. He kissed a bite mark he’d left on your inner thigh, pleased it was still there after four days. Seeing the healing bite from Kid in the crease of your leg made him scowl at the other Alpha’s mark - he’d have to work on that one later. Settling himself on his stomach between your thighs, he set one calf over his shoulder followed by the other. Your glistening core was bared to him and still weeping with the cum he gushed into you mere hours before. Shanks gave you one long lick up your slit, making your thighs tighten around his ears. Your muscles were shaking from exhaustion but one more round wasn’t going to hurt you. 

“Alpha?” you said groggily, rolling your head on the pillow with your eyes still closed. You brought your hands down to run your fingers through his hair, as if in question that it was truly Shanks.

“Shh, just let it happen, I’ll help,” he assured you while remaining in his position. You whined but didn’t protest further as Shanks sucked gently on your clit. He knew it had gotten a lot of his attention but the swollen bud was calling to him. Shanks was gentle this time, lapping at you with care and ease as he wound your desire tighter. The taste of his cum mixed with your slick was like ambrosia for his taste buds - he needed to have more. Fucking his tongue into you, he tried to gather as much of the fluid as he could. You’d still produce slick after your heat fully ended but it was a touch sweeter during your heat. Your hole started to throb again, pulsing around his eager tongue.

“ Aah aah…Alpha - I -” you said, your voice straining under the onslaught of pleasure he was giving you.

“ Call me Shanks ,” he Commanded you, pulling his tongue out of your hole to speak before continuing to tongue your swollen clit.

“ Sh-Shanks - I -I’m g-gonna -” you stammered, your thighs clamped tight around his head. Ah, you really were coming out of heat. Previously you didn’t have control over yourself, coming when he made you either on his cock, fingers, or tongue. A few times he’d made you ask him or beg for it but he found it wasn’t as fulfilling for him. Sure, he liked making you whine and squirm but Shanks found he liked it even more when you came naturally, when the amount of pleasure he gave you was so overwhelming and intense that you had no choice but to come. 

Shanks pulled back to halt your progress toward your climax. Resting his chin on your pelvis, he smiled at you - and you growled back. He kissed your outer thigh but let you feel his canine teeth press against your soft flesh in warning to remember your place around him.

“Al- Shanks, please?” you asked, now deferent to him. He smiled at your submission, it was always a fine treat to enjoy. You tried to use his designation but were unable to under his Command. Shanks idly wondered how long the Command would last - would it extend beyond your heat? He hoped it did. 

“Of course, all you need to do is ask,” Shanks replied before giving the silky skin of your lower stomach a kiss. He wondered if you had gotten pregnant from this cycle, though he doubted it. Hongo said the first few heats weren’t generally productive and you weren’t in optimal health to begin with. The idea of your stomach swelling with his child had him kissing your stomach again. He hunkered back down between your legs, applying pressure to your clit in the way he knew you liked after so many times together. You moaned in pleasure, Shanks sliding two of his fingers into your hole to find that spot that made you gush. 

“N-not - ah I can’t - it’s too much hah hah -” you protested, now using your hands to try and push him away. He clicked his tongue at you - you were not to tell him what to do, he was the Alpha and you the Omega. Ignoring your cries, he curled his fingers and continued to pump them in your aching pussy, rubbing against the slightly rougher spot on your walls. He wished he had his other hand to push down on your stomach to intensify the sensation but you were shaking even without it. Sucking a little harder on your clit, he felt the moment of your release as your cunt tried pulling his fingers in even further. Slick gushed from you and he slurped up as much as he could while continuing to move his tongue against your clit. He was grinding against the bed while watching you fall under the spell of his bliss, he’d satisfy himself in a little bit. He showed you no mercy as you yelled out his name like a war cry. Finally, your pleasure wound down, your chest heaving and your eyes tightly shut.

“There it is, that’s my good Omega, such a good girl for me,” Shanks cooed at you as he removed his fingers from your body and pushed them into your mouth. You sucked them obediently, as he’d trained you to do during heat, only stopping when he took them out. Crawling back up to you, Shanks pulled you towards him again, letting you curl up into his body heat. Pulling the blankets back over the both of you, Shanks resumed purring. After a few minutes, he felt your body go limp as your breathing evened out. Yes, he’d be sad to see your heat go. 

There was always next time to look forward to.

Your POV

You felt like you were waking from a long, vivid dream as you regained your sense of self after your heat. It felt like memories were almost in your grasp, disappearing like vapor when you tried to hold onto them too hard. You could recollect only bits and pieces - you remembered kissing Shanks deeply, your arms wound around his neck as he fucked you slowly. You remembered crying out for him to help you, your body burning with need only to be reassured by his touch immediately branding your skin. You remembered him pulling orgasm after orgasm from you easily and how he had you crumbling under his slightest touch. You remembered his calloused hand running gently down your back to rest on your hip as he fucked you from behind. You thought you remembered telling him that you loved him, though that memory was hazier than the rest. 

What you did know was that Shanks had kept his word and hadn’t marked you during the heat. You truly hadn’t expected him to keep his promise, fully expecting that you would come to with a Claiming Bite on the non-infected side of your neck. Your neck still hurt from Kid’s bite with the incision now an angry red and covered in scratch marks. Hongo would want to see it, you thought, but you wanted to shower off the gunk covering your skin. Looking yourself over, you grimaced as you saw the marks from Shanks’s attention during your heat. He had gone to get you food and water after saying you needed to keep resting in the bed. And truthfully, you agreed with him.

You were tired, a bone aching kind of tired you hadn’t felt since you were on the run from Marine patrols, sleeping only when you’d found somewhere safe to hide. You couldn’t leave the bed if you wanted to, opting instead to let Shanks take care of you. Shanks? You thought to yourself. When had he become Shanks and not the Emperor to you? Probably after a few dozen rounds of sex, you decided. He didn’t seem to mind being called by his first name, that’s what the crew did. He still called you “Love” or “Omega,” but you weren’t going to correct him. 

Looking out the window in the cabin, you saw it was morning as soft light fell across your face. Shanks told you that you’d been in heat for five days, quite a considerable length for a first-timer. Curling back up in your now destroyed but perfectly smelling nest, you thought about asking him to visit the island after your next nap.

About a day later, you were finally able to get out of Shanks’s bed. Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you stretched your arms upwards and felt a lingering ache in your back and limbs. You were sticky with residual fluids, sweat, and slick and wanted to shower. Shanks watched you stand up, following you with his eyes as you headed toward the bathroom. You heard the bed creak and felt his body heat behind you as you reached to turn on the shower in his en suite. He leaned down and kissed your shoulder with the action making you jump with the unexpected affection. You weren’t sure how to act around Shanks now that your heat was over - not that you ever did to begin with. Obviously, you’d been intimate with him many times but that wasn’t you. You hesitated now, your returned senses leaving you unable to act as freely as you did under the influence of heat.

“Relax, it’s ok. I’m gonna come in with you,” Shanks said into your skin, peppering your shoulder with small kisses. You nodded as you remained facing the shower, you had been looking forward to alone time but weren’t all that surprised to find him joining. Shanks considered you for a moment then gathered towels and placed them on the counter for when you’d need them.

“Nothing’s changed. You’re still safe, you’re still here with me,” Shanks said, leaning against the sink. You looked at him, knowing he’d want to hear and see your understanding.

“Thank you, Shanks,” you said, looking into his eyes. “Thank you for keeping me safe d-during heat and um, helping me, and ah, not g-giving me the bite,” you said, dropping your eyes in the middle of your sentence. He wasn’t your mate, you couldn’t maintain eye contact with someone so much stronger than you on the designation scale. Shanks gave you a small smile instead of the broad flashy one he usually did. 

“You’re welcome, Love. Now, let’s get in before the hot water runs out,” he said while ushering you into the shower. He followed immediately behind you, allowing you the majority of the hot water while he stood behind you, pressing against your backside in the small space. He grabbed a clean washcloth and lathered it up.

“Arms up,” he said, holding the wet cloth. You blinked - he was going to wash you again? You turned to face him but your eyes only made it up to his muscled chest.

“I c-can do it, I’m not that tired,” you sputtered in a failed attempt to exert some autonomy. Shanks had seen and touched every inch of you but that was during your heat. Now you were lucid and a little less afraid - he didn’t need to take care of you as much as he had before.

You thought about protesting but instead raised your arms. It wasn’t that big of a deal and you wanted to save your battles for when they mattered.  He began rubbing you down quickly with the mild soap. You didn’t think he did as thorough of a job as when you were in the bath but you could always clean yourself again later. As you ran your fingertips over your hair, you thought about his promise to let you cut your hair short. Detangling the rat’s nest would be a much faster process if you cut off about 8 inches. 

“Um, Sh-shanks? Were you - um, can I still get the um, haircut? That you mentioned?” you asked with a trembling voice while watching him run the washcloth over your stomach. He hummed but didn’t answer directly, continuing to soap you down. He was efficient, not lingering on your breasts or cunt like you expected. 

“We can check for a hairdresser but I don’t think there’s one on this island. And trust me, you don’t want Beckman cutting your hair. You’ll end up with something like Hongo’s. You can get one at the next island,” he said with a hint of mirth. 

“Alright, that - that makes sense,” you said and looked away while doubt crept in at his flippant answer. In your mind, you couldn’t think of any island that didn’t have at least one barber. You watched the suds fall down the drain as he finished washing your torso. He crouched down to wash your legs in the single person shower, which was made even more challenging by his broad shoulders. You were crowded into the back corner, the water still pounding your skin as Shanks ran his fingers up your calf. You could see his cock bobbing even as he crouched down,  already erect and leaking at the tip. Of course, you’d seen it before but not in such vivid detail that you could remember. 

“Put your foot up on my thigh, I want to check your injury,” he said calmly while still rubbing down your lower limbs. Leaning your back against the shower stall, you lifted your foot as he asked. Shanks was a tall man, so you had to hike your leg rather high to accomplish what he’d asked you. It was a little lewd exposing yourself to him so plainly, but you were glad he was taking a look at your cut. You had worried it would get too much friction during your heat and get infected like the one on your neck. Shanks finished scrubbing you and put the washcloth over his shoulder, using his hand to move your thigh to where he could see your wound. He prodded at it lightly, looking it over closely. Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh and stood back up. You jumped from the contact but he was already standing up by the time you processed what happened.

“Your turn,” he said with a smile before handing you the washcloth off his shoulder. 

Shanks POV

Shanks watched patiently as you took the washcloth from him with shaky fingers and wide eyes. It was like he was handing you a loaded gun with how nervous you were. Your smaller fingers took the offered item as you turned to cover it in more soap. Shanks almost felt bad for making you feel so skittish but you needed to work through your fear of Alphas. Now that your heat was over, Shanks wanted to have to work to get you back to how you were, to feel you on his skin again. No matter how much coaxing it took, Shanks always got what he wanted.

You tentatively began washing his chest and gained some confidence when he began to purr softly for you. You were absorbed in the task and taking it seriously, using your lesser strength to scrub his skin. Shanks hadn’t tried to wash you very thoroughly with a part of him hopeful some of the scent and fluids would remain on your skin. If not, he could always replace them. Shanks was enjoying watching you take care of him, even if he had foisted it upon you. Now finished with his stomach and chest you passed the washcloth over his stump, washing it with care. He didn’t think you noticed but your tongue was peeking out of your mouth in an enticing way as you concentrated. You washed his back and legs, his full arm and hand, which he used to cup your face when you’d finished.

“Doing so well, thank you little Omega,” he said, kissing you on the forehead. You flushed adorably at the bit of praise and he couldn’t resist giving you a small smile. After all that he’d done with you, you still were embarrassed by praise and simple affection. He wondered if he was the first person to offer you any in your sad life before him. You certainly hadn’t had any with Kid, but maybe you’d been as lonely as he was when you were living incognito. You wouldn’t have been able to have intimate relationships or let anyone in too close for fear of your secret being discovered. Plus you were weak, unable to defend yourself, so it made sense you would have hidden yourself away from others. It had all worked out in a cosmic way, he was as perfect for you as you were for him. You were wringing out the washcloth from soap while Shanks mulled over this new thought. Oh no, you weren’t getting away that easy, he thought to himself .

“Wash all of me, Omega,” he demanded without a Command behind it. You were obedient enough that you’d do what he said without force even outside of your heat. Your face flamed again and you steadfastly avoided his eyes. He’d have to break you of that habit, he thought, he enjoyed seeing your expressive face when he talked to you. It might come in time, he supposed. After all, you hadn’t spent much time with him outside of the heat; you barely knew what he was like. He could tell you he wouldn’t hurt you and that he wanted the best for you, but you’d have to see it for yourself by his actions. So he allowed you to look at his feet while shuffling your own.

Shanks took hold of your hand that was closed into a tight fist and gently pried your fingers open. He grabbed the bar of soap from its holder and put it in your hand.

“Easy Love, nothing you haven’t done before,” he said softly, kissing the top of your head. You finally started moving, lathering up the rag and replacing the soap in its spot. There wasn’t much room in the small space but you brought yourself closer to him before raising your hand to his hard cock. You wrapped your slimmer fingers around his shaft with the rag in between, trying to quickly soap him off. Shanks covered your hand with his own larger one, keeping your hand wrapped around where he wanted it most. He pumped your hand up and down over his cock, letting the rag drop to the floor as the movements continued. It was heavenly to be stroked in your soft hand so unlike his own. You made timid movements like you weren’t sure exactly what to do. 

“A little harder, aah , there aah - good girl,” Shanks bit out as you increased the pressure on his cock. 

“Don’t stop,” he ordered as he removed his hand from atop yours. He cupped your chin in his hand and leaned down to kiss you as you continued stroking his cock. You allowed him to dominate the kiss, to do what he wanted to you without protest. It was pleasant but not the same as when you were in heat. During heat you reciprocated in delight, making it less of a kiss and more of a dance between lovers. Now you were accepting but not participating and Shanks didn’t like it.

“ Kiss me back,” Shanks Commanded you, wanting to relive what he’d had previously. You gave him a worried look but were unable to refuse as your body took over. He knew you’d eventually see that he loved you and that your fates had been written in the stars, he just had to lead you a little bit further. You hooked your free hand around his waist, bringing him even closer so there was no room between you. Your fist kept pumping as you began kissing him with passion, tongue thrusting against his own. Shanks moaned as you gently bit his lower lip before tilting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. 

“I’m close, Love,” Shanks said, pulling away for a moment to lean his forehead on your shoulder. 

“You want to be my good Omega, nh ? Then don’t make a mess,” Shanks bit out as he rode the edge of pleasure. He picked up his head and put his hand on your shoulder, pushing down gently. Understanding his silent cue, you got to your knees and put his cock head in your mouth while continuing to pump his aching cock.

“That’s hah that’s my girl - hah - a little more - ahh -” he mumbled as you sucked his tender tip then pushed forward so his shaft hit the back of your throat. He’d throat fucked you during heat but he refrained from putting his hand on your head out of consideration. Training that fear out of you meant being gentle when you weren’t in heat. Shanks could barely hold back as your tight, hot throat grasped him almost as well as your cunt.

“G’na come in - nngnh fuck fuck fuck swallow it all, that’s it, to the last drop,” Shanks stammered through his orgasm and you did your best listen, your throat bobbing as you swallowed as much as you could. He watched as the overflow from his massive load started dripping out the sides of your mouth. His finger swept across the edges of your lips when he cleaned up your face as you swallowed his cum.

“Open,” he said, his eyes half lidded and hazy with spent desire. He pushed his finger into your warm mouth, allowing you to finish cleaning him off. Removing his fingers from your mouth, he pulled you to standing and turned off the shower. 

“Let’s dry off and see if breakfast’s ready, yeah?” Shanks said while handing you a towel. Unfortunately, drying you off wasn’t something he could do efficiently before you got cold. You nodded as Shanks leaned down to kiss you on the mouth once more. You hesitated but ultimately kissed him back with a touch of affection. Yes, he missed the heat version of you who loved him back more easily. 

Maybe he’d ask Hongo if there was a way to speed up the intervals in between your heats. 

In addition to the physical sensations, your mind felt fuzzy to the point you couldn’t complete a single thought. You knew that during your heat you’d be in a sort of fugue state; your mind taking a back seat to the needs of your physical body. You would want to do anything to satisfy your Alpha with pleasing him becoming your main priority. Heat was a physically and mentally vulnerable  time for Omegas.. A corrupt Alpha could claim you against your rational will under the haze of the heat or cause irreparable harm to your body. In an ideal world, an Omega would have the time and ability to choose their Alpha before and during their heat. But…you would have the Emperor ashe’d made it clear there was no other choice. 

You inhaled deeply through your nose while sitting up and nearly vomited on the spot. There were so many conflicting harsh and irritating smells that you couldn’t even determine which was the most abhorrent to you. You stood up after kicking the blankets off your feet and began investigating to find the source of your current displeasure. The Emperor’s clothes all over the floor were the primary culprits of the unbearable stench. Even though he hadn’t told you that you could touch his belongings, he could surely understand that some items needed to be removed from his room. The thought that you hadn’t been given permission flitted away from your mind as you began to sift through the discarded clothing.

Picking up individual items, you sniffed each piece of clothing carefully. Some smelled so incredible that you held them over your nose and mouth like a mask while inhaling the rich scent of cloves and oranges deep into your lungs. One of the best smelling items was one of the Emperor’s open chested shirts. You weren’t sure what exactly was different about this white linen shirt from all the others but you couldn’t get enough of the smell. You disrobed from the clothes you were wearing and slipped into the shirt with the hem reaching to your thighs. Continuing on in your quest, you sniffed the next garment and immediately threw it across the room where it ended up landing at the door to the cabin. It was a white dress shirt with a ruffle in the front and the initials “DM” stitched onto the collar. The shirt itself was nice enough but it smelled like an absolutely vile combination of wine and leather. The smell of the ruffled shirt bothered you so severely you went to wash your hands to be rid of it.

You ended up sorting the Emperor’s clothes into three groups. The pile with the amazing smelling clothes went onto the bed where it was arranged in a circle. You weren’t sure exactly what the end result would look like but your instincts were telling you to start building a nest. The disgusting clothes went to the farthest possible point from your nest and joined the other foul smelling shirt beside the door. You left the clothes that didn’t bother you, which there weren’t many of, where they were on the floor. The majority of the clothes made it onto the bed, including the Emperor’s cloak you had worn the first time you’d met him. As you finished sorting things, there was a brief rap on the door before it opened. The door opening revealed the Emperor bringing you a tray of breakfast.

“Whoa, what’s all this by the door?” he asked, stepping over the pile of clothes and into the room. You scrunched your nose as he approached you. His scent on the clothes was pleasant but he didn’t belong in the room with you. You wanted him gone so you could build your nest in peace but weren’t sure how to communicate that in a way that didn’t get you in trouble.

“You alright, Love? You look warm,” Shanks continued while setting down the tray and reaching out his hand to touch your forehead. You stepped back from his intense smell as it grew closer to you. It was simply too potent for you right now and you couldn’t bear to be near him. Ducking under his arm, you scurried to the other side of the bed in an effort to put distance between you. The Emperor was undeterred and followed you around the bed as you kept taking steps back. Soon you were left with nowhere else to go as your back hit the wall of the cabin. Even though you risked punishment for your rude behavior, you couldn’t stop yourself from pinching your nose shut to keep out his smell as he approached you.

“Yeah, your heat’s starting. You began building your nest, hm?” Shanks asked, his hand drifting over one of his old shirts on the bed as he continued on his way to you. You practically hissed at him while narrowing your eyes at him before moving towards the shirt and rearranging it to your liking. It was pure instinct making your fingers itch with the need to move it, but couldn’t he see that he had moved the shirt to the wrong position? You hoped he wasn’t keeping a tally of your mistakes against him but you couldn’t stop yourself from adjusting it so it was the way it needed to be. 

Reaching for you, he put his palm on your forehead as you leaned back farther away from him. He was also warm, adding to the heat of your body to your chagrin.

“I’m guessing you want me out of here then,” Shanks said with a boyish grin, unperturbed by your annoyed body language. You searched his face for any signs of malice before you nodded your head in response. He laughed easily at your answer and put his hand up in mock surrender. 

“All right, I’ll leave. I’ll bring some clean blankets and linens for you but other than that I’ll be on the deck if you need me, yeah?” he said as he turned to go, stepping over the clothes pile again. 

“M-may I ask you for a favor, Emperor?” you blurted out at his receding back. You had to talk to him about the claiming mark now since you weren’t sure how long you’d be rational. This was your first heat so you wanted to ask while you had the chance. The Emperor’s eyebrows hiked slightly as he turned to you.

“Sure, Love. What can I do for you?” he asked with curiosity leaking into his tone. You took a deep breath to brace yourself for asking your question. You thought he’d deny you what you were asking for like he had with your island expedition but you had to at least try.

“I - I don’t want the bite. The, um, the claiming mark. I know, um, that - I - um, you might - you can do -” You shrank back when the Emperor drew near you once more; curling your arms around yourself in an attempt to reassure yourself. It wasn’t the stench this time that had you moving away, you knew from experience how strongly Kid had felt about the claiming bite and how desperately he’d tried to make it form. A claiming mark was supposed to be the final step of an Alpha / Omega courting with it supposedly creating an unbreakable bond between the pair. It was said that some highly compatible couples could even sense each other’s emotions through the bond, but that was surely just an old wive’s tale. In reality, it would be a way for the Alpha to secure the Omega to their side forever by creating a lasting bond between them. If you got a claiming bite from the Emperor, you’d never be able to endure another heat cycle without him. You’d never ever be free again.

He put his large index finger under your chin before tilting your head up to look at him. Even with your head filled with cotton you could feel your underlying fear instincts kicking in. You wanted to avert your eyes but couldn’t summon the courage to as his eyes bored into your own.

“I won’t, I promise,” the Emperor replied with the sincerity of the vow settling under your skin as he kissed your forehead. It was the best you could hope for, but you wondered what a pirate’s promise was worth? You stayed silent while you nodded slightly to indicate you understood. Closing your eyes to focus, you tried to remember your manners. It would be no good to start your heat off on the wrong foot with the Alpha who’d be…helping you through it.

“Thank you Emperor,” you croaked out as he kissed your forehead. He turned and smiled at you once again, his smile lines etched into his tan skin. His deep red hair shone in the sun as he grinned at you, giving you his full attention. He really was very handsome, you conceded to yourself as he left the cabin with an ambling gait.

“See you soon, little Omega.”

Shanks POV

Shanks’ smile remained on his face as he closed the door to his cabin behind him. You were absolutely adorable and he couldn’t get enough of you like this. Your moody feistiness was showing him the most spirit he’d seen out of you since you’d been on the ship. You reminded him of a little cat, hissing and puffing up its fur when all it really needed was to be taken in hand and pet until it purred. The clothes on his bed alerted him that you’d started building your nest and the sweat dripping between your breasts told him you’d be in heat likely by nightfall. He reluctantly gave you leave even with the absolutely divine sweet smell emanating from your every pore. He wanted to roll around with you and wrap around you like a blanket but he’d been warned you would want to be left alone at this particular juncture. Hongo had informed Shanks that you would want privacy to build your nest so it didn’t bother him that you wanted to be left alone.

Hongo had said you would need time and space to prepare yourself for the coming heat. So Shanks knew you would be picky about your surroundings, getting rid of anything you didn’t like and preparing the room along with yourself for your heat. What he hadn’t anticipated was you cracking open the door while he was still in front of it and throwing a pile of clothes out onto the deck, before slamming the door shut again. The various crew members lounging on the deck glanced between the door and their bemused Captain. Rockstar’s eyes roved over the pile of clothing and narrowed his eyes.

“Hey! That’s my favorite shirt!” griped Rockstar while snatching his gray shirt from the pile.

“And my missing bandana!” Lucky Roo chimed in before grabbing his kerchief with a huff. 

“The rest of the shit is mine, except for this,” Benn said, holding up the ruffled shirt between two fingers. He was smoking yet another cigarette as he piled the rest of the clothes in his muscled arms. Shanks had noticed that Benn was smoking like a chimney since you came onboard. Luckily they’d be docking at the island later that day and Benn could buy as many as he wanted. He was, at best, unpleasant when he ran out of smokes at sea.

“Ok, so I borrowed a few things. So what? You got 'em back, no harm no foul,” Shanks said  with a shrug brefore leaning against the door to the cabin. 

“What else you got in there, huh? Probably more where that came from,” Rockstar grumbled, turning to head towards the door.

“ DON’T.” 

Rockstar froze where he stood, his body unable to move as Shanks’ Command crashed over the deck. His face was stuck somewhere between shock and horror as he found himself at the wrong end of his Captain’s aggression. Shanks hadn’t meant to utter the Command, much less combine it with his Conqueror’s haki. Calming himself down with a deep breath, he released the energy and Rockstar slid to his knees, panting for breath. Shanks exchanged a look with Beckman as the first mate helped Rockstar back to his feet. 

‘Stay away from the Captain’s quarters. Three meter radius around the whole area,” Beckman decreed. Not that the crew needed to be warned as the discharge of haki was enough on its own. Sighing, Shanks sat down in front of the door to his cabin with his back against the familiar worn wood. He could excuse his aggression the first time around, but this was becoming too much. Hongo said that an Omega in heat could cause him to go into rut if he wasn’t careful. Someone like Shanks, at his level of power, couldn’t afford to go into a mindless state where all he cared about was fucking. For the sake of his crew, his ship, and all the people who depended on him for protection, Shanks needed to keep his mind as clear as it could be and avoid the rut. Hongo had advised him not to distress you and to keep you sated, which should prevent him from going into overdrive to protect you from any perceived harm.  It would be harder than Shanks had anticipated if someone stepping within three meters of his cabin was enough to set him off. 

“Stay there and guard the girl,” Beckman said while picking up the rest of the clothes on the deck.

“I’m not guarding her, I’m -” Shanks began protesting only to be silenced by his first mate.

“And stop taking my clothes ya shrimp, don’ fit ye anyways. Do yer wash instead then you’ll have somethin’ to wear,” Beckman continued while pointedly ignoring his Captain’s words. Shanks humphed but gave no further argument as he listened to the scuttering behind the door. Secretly, he was pleased that all the clothes you’d rejected were those from the crew and Mihawk. Everything you’d kept and moved to the bed was from his own wardrobe and drenched in his scent. Even though you hadn’t been given a choice in who you’d be mating this heat, your body had chosen him. And his certainly chose you.

Your POV

The ship had been docked for an hour now, gently bobbing in the waves with the sounds of the crew dissipating into the night air. The crew had hurriedly left the ship as tension rose corresponding to your coming heat. You still hadn’t left the cabin nor did you have any inclination to. You’d finished your nest a few hours prior with everything exactly how you wanted it. The Emperor had offered you fresh linens but you didn’t want to have the smell diluted from what was already in the room and you huddled in the center of your nest. Your stomach twisted itself in knots while an uneasy sense of anticipation settled over you. Your heart rate picked up and you squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to push away your rising stress as you worried about the potential outcomes of your heat. Though you were glad you’d never experienced it before now, you wished you knew what to expect beyond what you’d heard from vague rumors and hearsay.

You were curled up naked in the Emperor’s cloak and you began rubbing the material between your fingers when your stomach went from butterflies to full blown pain. It felt like the worst cramps you’d ever felt in your life and you let out an agonizing groan. Clutching your stomach, a gush of liquid flooded out of you, coating the cloak in your slick. You’d heard going into heat wasn’t pleasant but you didn’t know it would be so incredibly painful. For what felt like the millionth time in your life, you cursed your designation and wished you’d been born as anything but an Omega. Your thoughts on your life dimmed as another wave of cramps hit you and more slick spread between your thighs. 

Mindless need had you pushing your hand between your thighs in a futile bid to quell the building ache coming from deep within you. Your core felt like it was missing something you needed as much as the air you were breathing. Whimpering as your fingers sought your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub did nothing to subdue your pain or desire. With tears beading at your lashline you tried to think of something, anything, that could help you.

You needed…an Alpha.

Shanks POV

Bursting into the cabin at the first sounds of your distress, Shanks was first met with the nearly palpable smell of an Omega in heat. If he’d had any lingering doubts about keeping you on the ship before, they were gone now. His cock was aching as he located you in your nest on the bed, ready to fill you with his seed. His cloak below you was drenched with your slick as you writhed, your small fingers rubbing at your clit fruitlessly while crying out for him while you sought to alleviate your own pain. You looked like an offering to an ancient god, a sacrifice left on an altar to be consumed.

“Alpha it h-hurts…Alpha… A-alpha… need you…hurts” you cried out, waiting for him to come and alleviate your pain. Disrobing what little he had on, Shanks loomed over you in the bed, his one remaining thought was to ask permission before joining you in the nest. 

“Omega, shhh. I’m here for you, I’m here. Can I -”

“Alpha, it h-hurts, I c-can’t -” Shanks took that as all the permission he needed as he crawled over your nest to get to you. He removed your hand from your clit as pleasure would be found only from him for the rest of your heat. Pinning both your wrists above your head, he leaned down and nipped along your scent glands with his teeth, causing you to gush more slick and whine loudly.

“Alpha, p-please, I -” 

“I’ll attend to you. Hush,” Shanks commanded as you stifled your cries, sniffles still coming occasionally.

“Beautiful Omega,” Shanks said simply while taking in your blushing face and dilated eyes. Your nipples were pert and begging for his mouth and your cunt was calling for his cock. Wanting to relieve your pain, Shanks let go of your wrists and lined himself up to your dripping cunt. He needed to be in you immediately - for both your sakes. You were hurting, needing an Alpha's seed within you to quell the pain of the heat. Shanks felt like he was going to go into a mindless rut if he didn't start fucking you now .

Sheathing himself in one long stroke, you moaned loudly and arched further into him as he bottomed out within you. Your tight channel was gripping him so perfectly that he wanted to spend the rest of his life deep within you. Shanks quickly began a harsh rhythm, his thighs smacking the backs of your legs as you wrapped your shins behind his back. Your legs began to shake when Shanks rubbed your clit with his thumb while he fucked you.

“All for me,” Shanks muttered before catching one of your nipples between his teeth. He bit gently as you hissed and held his head in your hands. Omegas were known to come easily and repeatedly during their heat and you were no exception. Your pussy fluttering around his length when you reached your first of what would be many peaks. Shanks desperately wanted to bite your scent glands as you threw your head back in bliss, but he’d given his word that he wouldn’t. You were living with him now, he could wait to give you the claiming mark until after your heat passed. 

“ Al-phaaaa, ” you cried out with your first orgasm hitting you and your eyes rolled back in your head. Shanks knew that no matter how many times you came it wouldn’t matter - he had to come in you repeatedly to fully alleviate the pain. Still hard within you, Shanks slowed his pace but continued fucking you through your orgasm. Putting his forehead on yours, you opened your eyes to meet his. Your heavy lidded eyes and blown pupils alerted him that your true self was being consumed by your heat. Your true personality would be hidden under the haze of heat until the tail end when you’d come back to yourself in bursts. As Shanks watched your face smooth out in relief after contorting in pleasure, a flash of your real self flickered through your eyes. It was like you’d come to the surface and were frightened of what you found. You looked around rapidly and tried to wiggle away from under him as distress soured your scent. Shanks shushed you and used his arm to keep you under him.

Your lower lip wobbled and Shanks regretted his decision to wait until you kissed him first. He wanted to soothe you and so settled for cupping your cheek in his palm as you started to cry. He knew the lucid version of you would be lost soon but he wanted to make sure you felt safe and secure while you were mentally present.

“Shhhh. It’s me, Shanks. I’m here with you. It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re safe -” he said softly, rubbing your cheek. Your eyes roved over his face as if trying to etch it into your memory. You opened your mouth to speak but just as quickly as your lucidity had come it went, leaving you back in your uncomfortable heat. You grimaced and moved underneath him, wanting to fuck again to alleviate the rising pain. 

“Alpha, please, Alpha, I need you,” you cried out for him with tears streaking down your face as your contractions resumed wracking your smaller body.

“Again already, little Omega?” Shanks asked the more pliant version of you. You nodded your head as fat tears ran down your cheeks. Licking a trail all the way up your face, Shanks nipped your ear before he began moving again. Your scent glands were producing more than ever before, he needed some of you in his mouth before he bit you and broke his promise. 

“Ag-gain,” you confirmed, your body already crying out for another orgasm as well as his own.

“As many times as you need,” he cooed as you began moaning once more. Now the raw need inside him wasn’t building as quickly as the time before so he could spare some time to help you adjust to his presence. Settling himself down between your legs, he opened your thighs to reveal your glistening core. You whined at the loss of his thick cock but yelped instead when Shanks nipped your inner thigh with his sharp teeth.

“Quiet,” was all he had to say before you parted your legs farther to give him access. You shivered as Shanks flattened his tongue and licked your cunt in one long stripe from your hole to your clit. Your slick tasted divine and he couldn’t get enough as it coated his face from your leaking hole. Your hands found their way into his hair as he began sucking, licking, and mouthing at your clit. He was being an unfair tease by bringing you to the brink of orgasm repeatably before stopping his ministrations. Shanks lapped at you as your slick gushed out in anticipation of a climax you had yet to receive. Pointing his tongue, Shanks groaned as he drove it into you much like his cock had been previously. He couldn’t get enough of your delicious slick and he swore he’d never had an ambrosia so divine before. 

Bending your knees, you put your legs on his back and pulled his hair to coerce him to let you come. Shanks smiled into your pussy - he had half a mind to discipline you for trying to tell him what to do but he didn’t want to be away from your cunt for a single moment. 

“Not on my face, on my cock,” he said while moving back to flip you over to hands and knees. Entering you once more from behind, he fucked you with long and slow thrusts as you continued to leak slick. You were moaning with every thrust, making Shanks glad the crew had left the ship so they wouldn’t hear the delicious noises you made. Taking his fingers and running them up your thigh, he gathered your slick on his fingertips before he raised them to his mouth. He tasted your juices and hummed with delight. Running his finger through again, he leaned forward towards your face.

“Open,” he commanded without having to use any Alpha power behind it. Your jaw dropped immediately like you couldn’t wait to comply with whatever he told you to do. Sticking his fingers in your mouth, you sucked off the juices on his fingers and continued to suck on his fingers as he kept moving within you. 

“Stop,” he whispered into your skin before biting your shoulder gently. Shanks was going to keep his promise to you - he would - but he couldn’t resist a little nip along your soft skin. You ceased sucking immediately, opting instead to drop your front to the bed and turning your head to take his length further within your body. Shanks was amazed at the degree to which you obeyed him. Sure, you’d been obedient beforehand, but it had come with trepidation and hesitancy. You complied out of fear of reprisal, afraid of his every movement. But now you were completely willing to submit to him and allow him to do with you as he pleased. The feeling of heady power was not unlike the rush that came with using his Conqueror’s Haki. There was almost no one beyond his control, he could make even the proudest of Alphas bend the knee with his might. None of it felt as rewarding as your soft, hot, tight, cunt wrapped around him like a silk fist. This was the due of an Apex Alpha, he thought as your cunt pulsed around him. 

Shanks leaned back to watch his cock slide in and out of you as he fucked you. You pushed back against him, your body desperately trying to get more friction, more of his length, just more. Shanks used his hand to keep you in place as he started pounding into you more forcefully. You didn’t get to control the rhythm or speed, you were there to take what he chose to give you. You accepted his offering by stilling your body and pushing your knees further apart. Maybe you did need a little discipline, he thought as he drove into you. He would go easy on you, he decided, after all this was your first heat and you hadn’t had…positive experiences in the past.

Continuing to fuck you from behind Shanks surprised himself - his favorite position was to have his partner ride him. Normally by this point, Shanks would be enjoying a lovely view and would fuck up into you when he wanted to. Except…he didn’t want to have you any other way besides in front or beneath him. He was driven by the need to conquer you while accepting your submission and demanding more.

Shanks grabbed the ends of your hair and wrapped his fist in it twice, using the makeshift ponytail to pull your head back. You keened as your pussy clenched tighter, showing your enjoyment at how he was using you as he continued snapping his hips against your ass. He wished he had both hands so he could thumb your clit but the way your cunt was pulsing told him you were close again. He could see why Alphas wanted their Omegas to keep their hair long now, it was an easy way to control you and contort your body. Pulling harder made you whimper as another wave of slick hit his thighs. You were close, and he was sure if he kept going he’d be able to get you to come in a few minutes even without touching your clit. A thought touched the corner of his mind and Shanks decided to test out a theory.

“ Come,” he Commanded in his strongest Alpha voice. You howled your release as your already tight cunt contracted around him, milking his cock to orgasm. Your cunt convulsed around him seemingly endlessly as you rode your high. Finally sighing from relief, you collapsed onto the bed for a moment’s respite. Shanks was still on his knees with his cock already hardening again in anticipation of your need. He was on a razor’s edge and barely able to avoid entering a rut himself at the sight of his cum leaking out of your soaked cunt. He was pleased his command had worked, it was a way he could compensate for lacking a second hand. 

You were laying face down on the bed, already mewling your need for another round. Hongo had said the experience would be intense but Shanks hadn’t been prepared for something like this. Rolling you over, Shanks took in your blissed out expression and relaxed body. He’d never seen you like this and his heart clenched at the sight. He could almost see who you were before you were taken from your island, but it was just out of reach. He idly pondered what you were like before Kid met you and your life had dramatically changed course.

“ Smile,” Shanks Commanded, wondering what you would look like if he had met you first. Your face broke into a huge grin that reached your eyes, alleviating the stress and lethargy he’d seen previously. It took his breath away - you shone as bright as the sun and it reminded him of easier times and happier days. Shanks couldn’t stop himself from smiling back, it felt like you were lovers lounging after your first intimate moment together. For a moment you two weren’t an Alpha helping an Omega through heat by necessity. He wished you always looked like this, that you were happy to be there, to be with him. It wasn’t real, you were just lost to the heat, he knew that, but…

“ Fuck me like you love me.” 

The Command came out before he could stop it or rationalize it away. You smiled even wider, stretching your arms up and around his neck. Pulling him down to you, you kissed him tenderly on the lips. You spread your legs and wrapped them around his waist while continuing to press your lips to his. He licked against your lips for entry and you opened your mouth allowing the kiss to deepen. It was so similar to the first time he’d had you but this was love and tenderness, not a rough fucking to alleviate your primal needs. You moved your hands from behind his neck to his face, cupping his cheeks in your hands like he was a treasure. 

“I’m so glad you found me, Shanks. I’ll never leave you,” you said, your eyes filled with love and adoration as you whispered to him, punctuating your sentences with sweet kisses to his cheeks and lips. Shanks kissed you back as he languidly began making love to you, stroking your arms tenderly with his own. Shanks had lost many people in his life - Roger, Rayleigh, Buggy, so many others to fighting, wounds, drownings - that it felt right to have someone all of his own. Someone he could protect and cherish, to keep for himself.

“Did ye hear anything the doctor told you? He said -” 

“ ‘Course I did! I did everything he told me - bathed her, gave her food -” Beckman stopped walking after Shanks spoke and turned to face him. He pulled on Shanks’s ear even harder, making Shanks pout.

“You laid her down…next to you…in your bed..for the night. Are ye trying to get her to go into heat faster? Her smell’s all over you, did you fuckin’ mark her? If you did Shanks, I’m gonna cut off yer dick myself -” Beckman finally released the Captain as they were approaching Beckman’s cabin.

“I didn’t! Hardly even touched her. Poor thing fell right asleep, barely had time to get a sentence in before she was out like a light,” Shanks said, rubbing his ear with his hand.

“Decide what ye want to do with ‘er, Cap. By the end of the night,” Beckman demanded, opening the door to his cabin. Shanks usually liked Beckman’s cabin, the tidy space a pleasant spot for drinking and talking the night away. Right now Beckman’s potent smell inside made Shanks’s nose wrinkle in displeasure. When had Beckman started to reek so badly? Shanks leaned on the doorframe but didn’t follow his first mate inside.

“What now, Redhair?” Beckman grumbled, getting two glasses out of his small cupboard.

“Dunno. Just…don’t wanna come inside right now,” Shanks answered, not wanting to offend his friend.

“Are ye… sigh ..no wonder I went gray so fast. No shit ye don’t wanna come inside. I’m another Alpha and you’re about to start courting that Omega sleeping in your bed. It’s not personal, it’s biology. Doesn’t mean we’re not friends or that I won’t be yer first mate. Just complicates things for a few days between us,” Beckman said while handing Shanks his glass of whiskey. Both of them took their first sips, Shanks enjoying the burn on his tongue. 

Beckman looked over at his Captain, who was draining his glass quickly. “Yer keepin’ her,” Beckman stated. Shanks polished off the whiskey in a gulp and held the glass out for more. 

“Think so,” Shanks confirmed. 

“It’s a bad idea to keep an Omega on a pirate ship,” Beckman said, pouring Shanks another drink and handing him back his glass.

“Roger did it. That’s how he got Ace,” Shanks replied, swirling the drink in the glass. Beckman grunted, but Shanks wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or not. 

“Not sure that’s the best example to pick,” Beckman argued lightly, leaning against the doorpost to his cabin.

“What else’m I gonna do with her? She’s injured and alone, can’t just drop her off on an island. Not gonna sell her, there’s nothing else -”

“Oi. Play games with yourself but not with me. Admit you want tae keep ‘er for yourself. I know you, Shanks. I know what’s going on in that head,” Beckman said with a knowing look.

“Fine. I do want to keep her, yeah, that’s part of it,” Shanks muttered sullenly. He hadn’t sorted through his thoughts about you yet but Beckman wasn’t wrong. Shanks almost felt compelled to keep you and protect you though he’d barely known you a day. He supposed it was biology but he was also one to take things as they came - who was he to interfere with the plans of fate?

“So be it. We’ll dock tomorrow or the day after, she’ll make it until then. Just don’t fuckin’ mark her or she’ll go into heat right thereafter, yeah? Keep yer head on straight,” Beckman’s voice was firm as he gave his captain a hard stare. Shanks resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his first mate’s attempt to lecture him. He’d listened to Hongo, he knew what to do. Taking the next drink in one gulp, he handed the glass back to Beckman.

“And stop drinking my good whiskey like yer cheap vodka,” Beckman complained without rancor. 

“Aye, aye Cap’n,” Shanks said easily, saluting and handing the glass back to the first mate. He was still hungry and meandered down to the kitchens, looking for something to snack on. Shanks overheard the conversations flowing between his commanders as he approached the kitchen and he found himself rolling his eyes as they prattled on. He should have known they’d be gossiping because normally he’d be right there with them talking shit. Shanks stood listening in just outside the open door to the galley.

“- know he’s gonna keep ‘er, there’s no way he won’t,” Rockstar exclaimed, slamming down something heavy on the wooden table.

“‘Course he is, have you seen her? All that hair, those legs, the smell? Can you imagine what it would feel like to fu -” 

Shanks’ Conqueror’s haki surged with power causing the wood door to splinter as a rumble simultaneously built in his chest. Bonk Punch, Gab, and Yasopp looked up from their seats astounded, nearly frightened. Their stares confirmed that this wasn’t the Shanks they were used to - he had never used any kind of force against a member of his crew. He was barely conscious of his actions but he couldn’t stop himself from acting this way. He’d barely felt his haki gathering much less activating, shocking himself as much as his crew. But hearing the Omega in conjunction with the thought of anyone other than himself fucking her was sending him into a rage. Yasopp looked over at Gab and put his hands up in an apologetic supplication.

“Sorry, Cap. Was just…chatting. Didn’t mean nothing by it,” the sniper’s voice was faint as his eyes darted from his captain to his crew mates. Shanks tried to stop growling but the apology offered wasn’t enough to calm his Alpha side.

“Go,” was all Shanks was able to say in between warning growls. The men scrambled away with their plates of late night food forgotten on the table in their haste to leave. After they were gone Shanks sat down heavily on the wooden bench before dropping his head into his hands, the long red strands in the front falling over his fingers. Shanks prided himself on his self control, on his ability to be who he needed to be at all times. And this? This Alpha wasn’t someone he recognized or wanted to be. His mind raced as he began to think that maybe keeping the Omega wasn’t the right decision to make after all. Shanks munched on his crew’s leftover food as he meandered back to his cabin, purposefully avoiding talking to any more crew until he’d sorted his mind out.

Pushing the door in while holding it down to avoid the creak he knew would come, Shanks inhaled your light scent of lily of the valley and cedar and the smell went straight to his cock. You had moved from your previous position, now curled up completely into a little ball at the far end of the bed against the cold wall with the bathrobe from before discarded at the foot of the bed. Shanks frowned at the sight of your defensive sleeping position. Throwing off his cloak again, he undressed completely and laid down where he was previously. Shanks didn’t like wearing clothes to bed so he figured you might as well get used to it sooner rather than later. 

“Come on, Love,” he said while pulling you towards him again. You were warm and sweating despite the cold air in the cabin and your muscles were tight as he shifted your body so your back was against his chest. You jerked awake as Shanks settled you into his side, moving your arms and ducking your head quickly to protect your face. The sight of your terrified and confused expression broke Shanks’ heart all over again. He patted your face and hair, trying to calm you down from whatever nightmare you’d just been experiencing. How could he think to get rid of you when you were so traumatized and broken? No, he needed to keep you by his side and protected - he’d work on his aggression. Maybe after you’d gone through your heat his aggression would decrease on its own.

“Shhhh, it’s just me. Go back to sleep, it’s the middle of the night,” Shanks whispered into your ear as he resumed purring for you. You closed your eyes again and tried to relax your stiff body but whatever you’d been dreaming about was sticking with you. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Shanks asked quietly as his purr rumbled through his chest. He wasn’t surprised when you shook your head in response to his query but Shanks didn’t mind. There would come a time when you’d want to share everything with him, and he was willing to wait as long as it took. To Shanks’ surprise, you rolled over and buried your face in his neck, feeling the vibrations of his purr on your face. He ran his hand up and down your back as your scent blossomed in the cabin. The longer he purred for you, the more your scent bloomed in the small cabin, making his desire to scent you grow with each whiff of flora he inhaled deeply in his lungs.

Holding you close to his nude body, Shanks couldn’t help himself from licking a long stripe up your neck, tonguing hard over your scent gland. Your wound was on the other side of your neck, he wasn’t going to risk reinfecting you, but the smell you produced was so tantalizing and potent he couldn’t help himself; he simply had to taste you. He also couldn’t stop himself from moaning softly as he ran his lips over your scent gland and trailed his tongue over the front of your neck. You tasted just as good as you smelled and he wanted more. He spent several minutes mouthing and licking your scent glands, wanting his smell to linger there as you shivered beneath his attention. He could smell your slick starting to pool between your thighs, it was said that the scent glands of an Omega were as sensitive of an erogenous zone as their groins. 

Shanks felt his canine teeth elongating in preparation for a bite before he pulled himself away at the last moment. His dominating side was roaring at him to bite you, to properly claim you, but his rational side knew it would bring you into heat faster. As he pulled back, Shanks noticed you were stiff and unmoving in his hold despite the purr still emanating from him, your eyes wide and wary of his next move. You were leaning back away from him, as far back as you could get without moving away.

“ ‘M sorry, got away from me,” Shanks mumbled his apology into your hair. He was sorry you were afraid but he wasn’t sorry he’d done it. Even Hongo said that you needed to have his scent on you, this was one of the ways he could do that. Ideally, he would have loved to continue his scenting and stuff you with his cock but he knew that would only ruin whatever small amount of trust he’d begun to build with you. He resumed slowly stroking the skin of your back, purring all the while. Eventually, you were lulled back to sleep by his soothing purr, Shanks feeling your even breath fanning across his neck. Drifting off, Shanks couldn’t believe he’d thought to get rid of you.

Your POV

You woke up confused. You were very warm and no one had come to wake you via bodily harm. You hadn’t been woken up in the middle of the night by someone pulling on your chains - and actually, you had no chains on. You were…in Shanks’ cabin. Alone. Covered by his blankets and doused in his smell as the late morning sun streamed through the window. You weren’t sure what time it was but it was definitely later than you’d slept in a long time. You blinked a few more times as your memories of the previous day came back to you - the rescue, the bath, the food, the scenting…

Shanks’s attention to your scent glands the previous night worried you. He had come back to bed naked, you could feel his hard length grinding against your ass as he held you close. You’d wanted to stay like that and try to forget the nightmare you had but he’d started purring and your resolve weakened. You’d wanted to feel his strong purr, to wrap yourself up in it as securely as the blankets around your body. So you’d turned towards him and immediately felt yourself held in place as Shanks licked and sucked on your scent gland. Between the purr, the heat of his body, his hard cock, and the feeling of someone almost lovingly tending to your glands, your mind was swimming in the face of the overwhelming stimulation. You felt more pliant under his hold, like any whim that came to his mind was yours to fulfill. The rational part of your mind screamed for this to stop but another part of you had come forward to not only accept his ministrations, but to revel in them.

Besides, it wasn't like you were actually going to tell him to stop. Those were all thoughts swirling around your head as you fell under his Alpha spell, but you’d let him do anything he wanted to you. After all, you knew how things went with an Alpha from your time on the Victoria Punk. You’d let him do as he willed, merely grateful he stopped before he bit you.

Alone for now, you took stock of your injuries as was your morning custom. Your neck hurt where Hongo had stitched it but that was to be expected. Your other sores ached as well but you were used to it and you hadn’t received any new injuries so all in all you were doing well as far as you were concerned. Looking around, you saw the Emperor had an ensuite you hadn’t noticed the previous night. Even Kid had let you use the bathroom when you needed to, surely you could now. After relieving yourself, you happened to look at your face in the mirror hanging above the bathroom sink.

Objectively, you knew it was yourself staring back at you. Who else would it be? But the longer you looked, the more separate you felt from the person in the mirror. The features that were once so familiar to you, that reminded you of your family, now belonged to a stranger. You reached up to touch your chin, the same one your Grandmother had, and pinched it hard. The body you were in registered pain but you couldn’t seem to care. Pulling your eyes away from the person in the mirror, you returned to your spot on the bed and hid yourself with the covers once again. You were hungry but there wasn’t any food in the cabin and you wouldn’t have eaten it without express permission anyway. 

You lost yourself in thinking about the person in the mirror while you sat in the bed for an indeterminate amount of time. You didn’t mind, you were used to waiting without any diversions, and you had always enjoyed spending time alone. At least here you weren’t in chains or bound in an uncomfortable position. The sun shifted as the day passed, bringing the warmth of the afternoon into the cabin. The way the cabin steadily grew warmer made you glad you were naked, you would’ve been a sweaty mess by now if you had been clothed. As you lounged and absently brushed your tangled hair with your fingers, there was a single knock on the door before it opened. You averted your gaze and brought the blankets up to cover your neck.

“Good afternoon, Sleepyhead!” Shanks said merrily, opening the door with his hip to bring in a tray of food and drink. You didn’t reply and didn’t look up, choosing the safer option of waiting for him to tell you what he wanted you to do. Even though he had been fairly nice so far you didn’t want to push him before you knew him well enough to predict his behavior. 

“Been up for a while, then? Why didn’t you say anything or come out?” Shanks asked with genuine curiosity while holding a mug of water out to you. You extended your hand to accept it but he pulled it away before you could take it.

“Answer me, Love. I enjoy hearing your voice. Why didn’t you let me know you were up or come out of the cabin?” he prodded gently. The truth was you weren’t going to do anything he didn’t tell you to do, but that wouldn’t satisfy the Emperor. He’d already told you he wouldn’t harm you but you weren’t sure if you could trust him and you didn’t want to risk incurring his wrath should your doubt be considered a slight against him. Instead, you gave him a half truth and hoped he’d accept it without asking anything that might put you in danger.

“No clothes,” you said in a rough voice before accepting the water as Shanks handed it to you.

“Ah, right. My fault for that one,” Shanks said with an easy smile and set the tray down on the bed. You watched him amble over to his clothing pile on the floor where he began kicking it with one sandaled foot. “Go ahead and eat while I look for something for you to wear. Those need to be washed, not for you. Maybe there’s something in here,” he said while opening a chest filled with fabrics. Rummaging through them, he pulled out breezy cotton shirts, loose fitting pants, and an endless array of sashes.

“Hmm. Not sure there’s anything in here that would fit you, but we’ll give it a go. Here, try….these,” Shanks said, handing you a billowy top and hideously colored orange pants. You set the mug of water you were still sipping on the bedside table and stood up to pull the shirt over your head. It had one button that sat below your navel and the plunging neckline left your breasts completely exposed. The pants were large but you rolled the legs up a few times and they would work if you didn’t have to run anywhere. 

“Well, that won’t do. Can’t have everyone seeing you like that, yeah? Maybe I could…hold on. Lemme go check and see what’s on the ship. You sit tight here and I’ll be right back,” the Emperor said while looking at your outfit. Sitting back at the edge of the bed, you waited patiently and nibbled at the food until he returned just moments later. 

“Well, it’s a mixed bag. The good news is that we’ll be docked at an island by tomorrow and I can buy you new clothes. The bad news is I have nothing for you now, so you’re gonna have to wear these. I don’t have a lot of, oh wait…I have one long sleeved shirt I think…the one from the time with Ace…" The Emperor was throwing clothes from his trunk onto the floor as he sorted them while still looking for something for you to wear. It was almost surreal, here was one of the strongest men in the world at your feet, looking through his old clothes on your behalf. He must have sensed you were watching him because he looked up and beamed at you. You didn’t know what to make of the gesture so you looked down and picked at a stain on the pants you were wearing.

“Ah well. We’ll be at an island tomorrow so we can raid their stores. Not literally though, we’ll pay for whatever you need,” Shanks said, stuffing everything back in the trunk without sorting or folding and shutting it by pushing the lid down. Your heart swelled with the thought of being on land once again, you hadn’t set foot off a ship since the day Killer had brought you to the Punk. 

“Can I go too? Please?” you asked quietly without looking up. After a moment, Shanks stood up and walked over to where you were by the bed. He put his hand on your forehead, the action causing you to flinch backward. As he touched you, the feeling of his chilly hand against your hot forehead felt wonderful. You leaned into his touch, wanting to feel something cold against your warm skin.

“I don’t think so, Love. You’re already getting warmer, you’re getting too close to your heat to risk going on the island. I’m not going to let anything happen to you but it might make other people uncomfortable with how much scent you’re producing. So, no, Love, you’ve got to stay here for now. I don’t even want you leaving the cabin until your heat starts.” Shanks was patting your hair, like you would a dog who needed to be shown affection lest it act out again. You nodded at his statements. Logically, it made sense and you understood why the Emperor had denied your request. But…it had been so long since you’d asked for anything and you were immediately told no. You were keenly aware of your place once again while you sat and waited for his next command.

Shanks POV

Shanks was distraught at the Omega’s minute reaction as he told you that you had to stay on the ship. He wanted to show you the world as he saw it, a place rife with fun and adventure, not keep you in a cage like you had been before. But based on your rising body temperature, they’d dock at the island just in time for your cycle to begin. The increasing smell emanating from you was already causing the crew agitation, even though the majority of them were Betas. Hongo had assured Shanks that once you’d started your heat and he joined you, it would be easier on everyone as your scents merged. For now tension was high on the ship, tempers rising and fights breaking out over small matters.

Shanks had left the cabin to look for clothes for the Omega, thinking that maybe Beckman or Yasopp had something that would fit you since Ben liked smaller shirts and Yasopp was the shortest on the crew. He hadn’t made it three steps outside the cabin before he’d turned around in disgust. Shanks couldn’t bear the thought of his Omega wearing anything but his own clothes, if anything at all. You wouldn’t be wearing anything from Beckman or Yasopp or anyone else on the crew as long as he was breathing. Turning around, he saw Beckman growling while talking to Monster, something he hadn’t seen in all the years they’d been sailing together. For the crew’s sake, he had to tell the Omega to stay in the cabin.

Breaking the news to you hadn’t been easy either, your carefully schooled features concealing nearly all your sadness as he said you had to remain in his cabin. Just the slightest wobble of your lush lower lip told him you were upset about his decision, though you didn’t voice any discontent. You merely kept your gaze averted as your hands gripped the fabric of the pants you were wearing tightly in your small fists. Shanks sat down next to you on the bed, crowding you with his physical proximity.

“It’ll be ok, don’t worry. You’ll get off the ship soon, just not now. You can be brave for a few more days, yeah?” You nodded as you moved your torso slightly further away from Shanks. Shanks moved around and laid on the bed, opening his arm to you, wanting you to receive affection from him. You took the hint and laid down next to him, side by side on the bed, your head resting on his bicep.

“Who will…help me?” you asked in a small voice as you worried the fabric of your shirt between your fingers. 

“Through your heat? I will, Love,” Shanks informed you with a kiss on the top of your head. You pressed your lips together tightly and closed your eyes. It was well known that if an Omega didn’t have an Alpha for their heat it was tantamount to torture, so someone was going to have to help guide you through it and it might as well have been Shanks. He was the Captain and an Apex Alpha beside, no one else was going to have the honor. 

“This will be my first time with an Omega in heat, we’ll both be new to this. We’ll go through it together,” Shanks said reassuringly, pulling the Omega up farther so your neck aligned closer to his mouth. Your scent glands were tantalizing in their nearness, he just wanted one small taste to tide him over for now. Flicking out his tongue, you couldn’t help but shiver when he licked over your scent glands as he had the night before. He wanted to feel you shivering under his tongue in other places…and he would be soon enough. Shanks began lapping your neck, making sure to avoid the area with the stitches. 

“Needta get you things for your nest,” Shanks thought out loud, remembering what Hongo had told him. He threw his leg over yours, keeping you still beneath him as you squirmed from his attention to your neck. He still hadn’t kissed you on the mouth, Shanks wanted to wait for you to initiate that intimate moment between you. 

“Afterward…after the heat…am I…” you asked him in between kisses, licks, and nips to the skin of your neck. You’d let the question dangle but Shanks knew you were asking if he’d free you. Another disappointment to come your way, Shanks thought. He’d find some way to make it up to you, some kind of present you’d like. 

“No, Love,” Shanks said, stopping his onslaught against your neck for a moment. He propped up his head on his hand, looking down at you lying on his bed. Your face was flushed and your pupils were blown wide, your body preparing you for pleasure at his hand. You looked radiant and it was taking a great deal of restraint to hold himself back from opening the shirt you were wearing further and sucking on your pert nipples. “You can’t go back. You’ve been identified now and there’s a target on your back. Unless you’d rather be sold at a slave auction, you should stay here with me,” Shanks said. Your face paled immediately at his words and your hands reached for him, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling gingerly.

“N-no, please Emperor. Please let m-me stay,” you bleated out. Shanks almost regretted his choice of words but seeing you reaching for him, for his protection, had his Alpha side crowing in delight.

“Of course you can stay, Love, don’t worry,” Shanks murmured into your skin as he kissed your shoulder where his shirt had fallen to the side. 

“You’ll be with me for as long as you’d like.”

Shanks hadn’t given it much thought in the short time he’d had the Omega on his ship. If Shanks was a better man, he could let her go back on suppressants while living in anonymity on a protected island. She’d made it years without being detected and likely could go back to doing the same. 

Or he could sell her and make a ton of Berri, maybe even equal to his bounty. This idea was dismissed as the thought of turning her over to someone who would traumatize her just as badly - or maybe worse - turned his stomach. Besides, the islands he protected were perfectly happy to supply him with whatever the crew needed. The Red Force was welcomed all over the Grand Line, Shanks had no need for more money.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it,” Shanks said, rubbing his goatee. The idea to keep the Omega for himself had growing appeal. Your scent had started to perfume the cabin and it was taking everything in Shanks not to rub his nose on your scent glands. You had a subtle scent of lily of the valley and cedar that Shanks found incredibly appealing. With his status, power, and crew he could keep you safe from anyone else who would seek to have you. 

“Well, you’d better decide quickly. If you’re not keeping her, we need to get her off the ship immediately.”

“How much time do we have?” Shanks asked, peeking back in on your still form again. If he didn’t see you breathing and blinking, he would have thought you a statue.

“Only four to five days, and that’s if your presence around her doesn’t initiate her heat sooner which it likely will. If you’re not keeping her, we gotta put her in the infirmary, brig, or somewhere where your and Beckman’s scent is weak.” The mention of Beckman set Shanks on edge, surprising both himself and the doctor. He’d been friends with Beckman for over twenty years and this was the first time he’d ever felt anything so negative towards the man.

“How much do you know about Omegas?” 

Shanks hummed as he recalled that he had read a few books over the years, but hadn’t taken a particular interest in Omegas. He didn’t think he’d ever find one and he wouldn’t want to spend a single Berri on buying one through the slave trade. He’d bedded hundreds of Betas and even a few Alphas which had suited him just fine. “I know a little but not all that much truthfully,” he stated while looking at you through the circular window in the cabin door. You hadn’t moved an inch, your gaze still trained on the floor, sitting in the exact position Shanks had left you in. He could only imagine what Kid had done to you to train you to such a sick level of obedience. 

“We’ve got to get to an island and dock for the duration otherwise everyone’s gonna be miserable, especially Beckman. You’re not gonna want anyone else around her either.” 

“How do you know she’s going to be in heat?” Shanks asked, genuinely curious.

Hongo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Doctor isn’t just a title, I went to a real medical school. I learned about all this and we need to get her ready. If this is her first heat like she’s saying it will be, it’s going to be intense.”

“What does that mean exactly? What do we need to do for her?” Shanks’s practical knowledge about heat cycles left something to be desired. He’d often glossed over those sections in manuscripts under the assumption that it would never apply to his situation. 

Hongo rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “If you’re keeping her, there’s a lot we need to do. First, she must bathe so I can tend to her wounds. After that, you’ll have to scent her. If you want the heat to go as smoothly as it can we need to erase any scent left from Kid and replace it with yours. That way she’s not searching for her old mate, even if they had a….bad relationship. We’ll need to get her soft, clean, unscented linens and blankets so she can make her nest. She needs to eat up - heats use a lot of the Omega’s reserves and she doesn’t have that much left. We need -”

Shanks cut off Hongo with a wave of his hand. “One thing at a time. First, let’s bathe her.” 

“After the bath, we’re gonna need Beckman,” Hongo stated.

“Beckman? Why?” Shanks was an Alpha too and stronger besides. Anything Beckman could do, Shanks could do better unless it took two arms. Belatedly, Shanks realized his feelings were the precursor to jealousy. He threw Hongo a frown before he carried on speaking in a sullen tone, “She doesn’t need him.”. 

“I’m gonna have to clean and dress her wounds,” Hongo explained.

“So? What does that have to do with him?”

“He’s gonna keep you from punching or trying to fight me. You’re not going to like watching me tend to her or hurt her, no matter if it's for her own good.” Shanks rolled his eyes at the doctor’s words.

“Pffff. It’s not gonna be like that, I can control myself. It’s not like she’s my mate,” Shanks scoffed.

“I’m getting Beckman,” Hongo stated, unmoved by Shanks’s self assuredness.

Your POV

You heard the Captain and doctor talking outside of the door but were lost in your own thoughts. You’d been off your homemade suppressants for a while but you had pointedly avoided thinking about the possibility of going through heat. You had chalked your rising temperature up to your wounds causing you to be feverish. Nuzzling into the cloak, you inhaled Shanks’s scent deep into your lungs. The velvety material and clean smell made you feel peaceful to the point of being a little sleepy. You ached to lay back on the comfortable looking bed and curl up into a ball but he hadn’t given you permission to. You wanted to pass and show that you could obey in case this was a test. Kid liked to test the limits of your obedience in creative ways and you’d learned your lessons the hard way. He would leave food out when you were hungry and punish you if you ate it, or leave out blankets when he’d told you to remain naked and enter his cabin randomly. So you sat even though you were bone achingly tired.

You tried to look about your surroundings surreptitiously while you waited. The wooden cabin was mostly tidy but well lived in. Clothes were piled on a lounge chair in the corner, a writing desk had letters, maps, and an inkwell on top, and a small bookshelf held a few tomes. A dark colored chest had more linens poking out of the corner while the bed you were perched upon was large and covered in fuzzy sheets and piled with blankets and pillows. You didn’t see any hooks or chains hanging from the walls, maybe the Alpha wasn’t going to shackle you to the bed. The room had the aroma of the Alpha and gave off the feeling of coziness, of snuggling under blankets on a cold night. It felt….homey.

The door opened and Shanks reappeared without the doctor. Watching the Emperor approach, you didn’t want to imagine his displeasure at finding you asleep on the bed when he hadn’t allowed it. Kid’s power was mind boggling to you and the Emperor had swatted him away like a fly. You would do anything to remain on the Emperor’s good side even if it was to your own detriment. You heard him approaching you and watched his sandaled feet stop in front of you. He didn’t stoop down to catch your gaze but you felt his hand land at the top of your hair. You winced, remembering all the times it had been pulled in the past. No pain came as Shanks just patted you and rubbed the strands of your dirty hair between his fingers.

“Hongo has to treat your wounds. We need to get you clean first though, yeah? And take these off too,” Shanks’ fingers left your hair as he spoke. He reached down into the cloak and pulled on the chain between the cuffs you were still wearing. Feeling the bed dip next to you, Shanks pulled one of the cuffs closer to his face to inspect the manacle. “Where’s the lock? They’re not welded shut,” Shanks noted. 

“Magnetic,” you said in your hoarse voice. Shanks’s face soured as he traced the smooth metal of the handcuff with his thumb.

“Ah.” Shanks seemed to mull your response over for a few moments before he commanded you to close your eyes. You complied immediately and heard crunching as the metal of your cuff fell off your wrists. You desperately wanted to see how the Emperor had gotten them off but you were waiting for his command. A warm and calloused hand rubbed your bruised wrist where the metal had been previously. “You can open them again,” Shanks said softly, running his thumb over your pulse. There were no weapons around and the Emperor’s sword was still sheathed within the scabbard. You could only guess the power he’d used to remove them. 

The door swung open and three men appeared, two carrying a metal tub filled with steaming water and the third with a bucket with toiletries. Shanks stood to put himself between you and the crew members, blocking them from your view. “Thanks, guys, just put it over there,” the Emperor requested, gesturing to the largest open area of the cabin. The men followed their Captain’s request carefully but a little water sloshed on the floor. Alarm shot through you at the sight of the water on the floor, and you hoped the Captain didn’t blame you or punish you for it. You nearly went to clean it but you hadn’t been told to leave the bed and the new men were still in the room.

“Is it time for introductions? I’m Lime -” one of the men began speaking in your direction.

“Ah, not now. Maybe later Lime Juice, sorry. Thanks for bringing the tub,” the Emperor said with genuine praise in his voice.

“No worries. Nice to meetcha Little Miss,” the man said easily. You didn’t reply. The men exited the cabin leaving only you, Shanks, and the piping hot bath. 

“Come on, then. Let’s get you in there while it's still hot,” the Emperor suggested. You nodded and stood up, shucking the Emperor’s cloak you’d been clutching.

Shanks POV

He shouldn’t have been surprised when you complied immediately, leaving his cloak on the bed and revealing your nude body. You’d been beaten into submission - if he told you to jump overboard he’d hear the splash shortly thereafter. His eyes raked over your form while you limped to the tub, noticing the bruising, the cuts, the marks he hadn’t before. Even in your currently broken form, you were breathtaking. Shanks’s fingers twitched with the desire to touch you but he stuffed his hand into his pocket for the time being, getting closer to aid your descent into the water.

“Why are you limping?” Shanks asked as you gripped the edge of the tub to lift yourself in. You froze in place, looking down at the water. Raising your foot behind you revealed a deep gash in the sole of your foot. Shanks crouched down to get a better look at the wound while capturing your foot in his hand. The doctor hadn’t inspected the bottom of your feet so he was sure Hongo hadn’t seen this one. The cut was clearly deliberate with how deep and uniform it was. Taking a deep breath to avoid swearing caused the tempting perfume of your cunt to hit Shanks’s nose. His first instinct was to hold you in place and run his tongue all the way up your legs till he reached your tantalizing pussy. Then he wanted to rub his nose up and down your slit until the scent of your pussy was all he could smell. Now wasn’t the time, you were shaking and tired and had a long way to go until you could rest.

“Ach. I wish you’d said something, are there any other cuts Hongo didn’t inspect?” Shanks said in mild admonishment. You licked your lips and nodded slowly. You were shaking, your shoulders hunched in to make yourself smaller. “Hey, don’t worry, I’m not mad,” Shanks said quietly, putting your foot back down and standing up, regrettably moving away from the scent of your groin. He cupped your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheek repeatably in an attempt to soothe you. “I’m not mad, I just need to know where you need medical attention. I can’t help you if I don’t have all the information, right?” You nodded, your hair obscuring your face from his view. “Where’s the other cut?” Shanks inquired while moving his hand to the small of your back.

You took in a deep breath and put your good foot on the tub, opening your legs to his eyes. At the very inner crease of your leg, where your thigh met your groin, was another infected bite mark. Shanks squared his shoulders and kept his face neutral. His first instinct had been to snarl at the offending sight but managed to restrain his response at the sight of you. Shanks saw your vacant gaze, shaking hands, and clammy skin and knew it would only make things worse.

“”S all right. We can let Hongo know later,” Shanks slipped on the mask of his affable nature as he spoke to smooth over the moment. “In ya go, Love,” Shanks said while picking you up by the waist and depositing you into the tub without warning. Shanks needed you in the water so your smell would dissipate before he lost control of himself. You hissed when your skin hit the water but otherwise made no movements. “Here you go,” Shanks said, handing you soap and a towel before dragging a stool over to sit near the tub. “You do your front, I’ll get your back.” 

You began lathering the washcloth with soap and warm water before you began rubbing down your arms and torso. Shanks maintained a steady one sided conversation while he started pouring water down your back. He was trying to acclimate you to the sound of his voice in an attempt to bring you comfort in what surely was an uncomfortable time. While lathering his own washcloth Shanks saw the formerly clear bathwater turning rust red with every swipe of your hands. As he began sudsing your back his eyes picked up faded scars he’d missed when looking over your more recent wounds. 

“I’m gonna wash your back now, ok? It’s hard to wash your own back and even harder when you only have one hand. There are more tasks than you’d think that require two hands, even beyond fighting or washing. Can you imagine how difficult buttons are to do with one hand? Or even tying boots? I have Beckman help me, that’s Benn Beckman, my first mate. You’ll meet him later, you’ll like him for sure. He looks gruff but make no mistake he’s a total sweetheart. He says that I milk it, and I do of course, but what’s the point of being a Captain if my first mate won’t hand feed me eggs every morning?” 

Shanks was acting casually but he noticed a miniscule shift in your mouth as he joked about Benn feeding him breakfast. You were close to smiling and Shank’s heart swelled with pride. He knew there was some glimmer of you buried deep within and he was going to bring you back to the surface. He finished washing your back and you’d washed your arms, torso, and legs but made no move to wash your hair.

“Do you want me to wash your hair, Love? I can if you’d like,” Shanks was trying to offer you as many simple choices as possible to show you that he wasn’t going to control every aspect of your life. You shook your head in response to his query. “Alright, go ahead then, almost done here,” Shanks said gently but to his surprise, you shook your head again. “No? I don’t mean to be rude sweetheart but your hair’s dirty, it needs to be washed.” 

“Cut it all off,” you rasped. Shanks tilted his head to the side, your request startling. Even male Omegas preferred long hair, it was simply a characteristic commonly associated with the dynamic. One of the most severe non-corporeal punishments an Omega could face was having a forced haircut. For an Omega to request a drastic haircut was unheard of. Your hair was long, indicating you’d been growing it long before Kid had gotten his hands on you even through your time being suppressed.

“Can I ask why?” Shanks questioned, picking up the soggy ends from the water. 

“Can’t be pulled,” you answered. You parted your hair in the back, showing a bald spot where your hair had been yanked out from the root. Shanks moved his stool so he was no longer sitting behind you but beside you.

“Look at me,” Shanks requested and you partially complied as you turned your head towards him. You looked at his chest but not at his face. “ Look at me,” Shanks repeated, this time with a Command. Not physically able to disobey an Alpha of his power, your widened eyes snapped to him. It was the first time he’d Commanded you to do anything, but this was important.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Not now. Not ever. You may not always like what I do, but I will never harm you. Do you understand?” Shanks said softly while stroking your cheek with his thumb. He’d done that a lot, he mused. Something about you called him to take care of you, to provide for you physically and emotionally. You nodded. “I’m gonna have to hear you say it,” Shanks said, almost sorry for forcing you to talk.

“I understand,” you stated in your ruined voice. Unsure if his Command was completed you continued looking at him. Shanks smiled at you and kissed the top of your head.

“I’ll tell you what, we’ll make a deal. I’ll wash and brush your hair for you tonight. If you still want to cut it off tomorrow morning, we will. We can have matching haircuts if you want,” Shanks said, flipping back his own hair for emphasis. A ghost of a smile turned up the corners of your lips as you nodded your consent to his deal.

Your POV

Your arms looped around your knees in the cooling water as Shanks washed your hair tenderly. You had been sincere in your wish to cut it - you never wanted to be dragged by your hair ever again. Shanks’s offer startled you since Omegas were often physically groomed to whatever standard the Alpha wanted regardless of how they felt about it. The bath had given you a lot of stress since you weren’t sure what to expect. Anything new, any deviation from the standard made you nervous since you couldn’t predict the outcome. It had been an all right experience but not as relaxing as the Emperor had anticipated. 

Shanks only had one hand but it didn’t slow him down when bathing you. He rattled on about whatever he was thinking about while you listened as he worked the soap onto your scalp and rinsed it. He was pulling the brush easily through your hair while telling you about a strange boy he’d met years before when there was a knock at the door. 

“Wait,” Shanks ordered in a tone more stern than he’d used when speaking to you. “Up, dear,” Shanks motioned with the hairbrush. The water dripping off you in rivulets left you exposed to the cold air making your skin erupt into goosebumps. Shanks quickly dried you off with a fluffy towel before he wrapped it around your body. After you were dried to Shanks’s satisfaction, he swapped the towel for a large purple robe, picked you up, and sat you on the chair by the desk.

“Come in,” Shanks said, sitting on the edge of the desk next to you. He took your wrinkly hand and held it in his own as you resumed staring at the floor. Three pairs of boots walked past and you heard them hefting the tub back out of the room.

“Blech, what’d she do? Bathe in mud?” one man said.

“Shut the fuck up,” Hongo replied calmly while coming to stand in front of you. He had his medicine kit again and you knew this part would be even less fun than the bath. Two pairs of boots stopped in front of you but you only recognized Hongo’s. The other male was also an alpha though not as strongly scented as Shanks.

“There’s a few more Hong,” Shanks said casually, stroking the top of your hand. “She’s got a cut on the sole of her foot and one on her inner thigh. Both need attention.”

“Alright, not an issue. Let’s get started,” Hongo said while setting his bag on the desk. “Over to the other side of the cabin,” Hongo ordered Shanks, who bristled immediately. 

“Nah, I’m gonna stay here,” Shanks said, keeping your hand in his own.

“No, you’re not. Go over there with Beckman. I don’t want to have to treat my own wounds in addition to hers when I stitch her up.” You cringed, waiting for the Captain to slap his subordinate but it never came. Instead, you heard a deep voice ushering the Emperor away from you.

“C’mon, Cap. ‘S for the best. We’ll be a few feet away and she’s a big girl, she can be apart from you for a minute or two.” You were guessing this was Benn Beckman, the first mate Shanks had told you about. Shanks whined in response but let go of your hand nonetheless.

“”M right here if you need me, Sweets,” Shanks reassured you as he receded. You didn’t protest but a part of you did wish Shanks was nearby. You didn’t feel all that comfortable around him but he was the person you were most familiar with. Hongo had been taking tools and liquids out of his bag in preparation for the procedures. After putting on a pair of glasses, Hongo snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.

“It’s not gonna feel great, but I’ll try to make it as painless as possible, OK? Let’s start with your neck, I think that’s the most severe. Did you wash it in the bath?” He asked, using the stool Shanks had previously occupied. You nodded in confirmation that you had followed the doctor’s orders.

“Let’s take a look, yeah?” You tilted your head to allow the doctor access to your neck. Even though you knew he was going to touch you, you still flinched when he made contact with your skin. “I’m gonna clean it and drain the pus. After I’m gonna have to stitch it,” the doctor informed you. You heard the sound of liquid moving and felt alcohol being applied to your neck. Not wanting to interrupt Hongo’s work, you stayed as still as you could even as the alcohol burned on contact with your wound. 

“See? Not even a single reaction outta me,” you heard Shanks say in the background and Beckman grunted in response to his captain.

After wiping down the area, you heard the clanging of metal as Hongo picked up a scalpel. You closed your eyes and waited for the sharp pain as the knife met your skin. Based on other wounds you’d received, you knew the doctor was trying to be gentle but you still hissed as he cut into you and pressed on the wound.

“No, sit down. She’s fine -”

“I AM sitting down, but I just wanna go -” 

“No, stay put.” You heard Shanks and Beckman arguing on the other side of the room. Hongo was right to bring the first mate, it sounded like Shanks was having a hard time watching the doctor tend to your wounds. You wondered if it was from possessiveness, like Kid, or because he didn’t like watching you being hurt. You didn’t think about it for long as a sharp pain crowded out your train of thought when the doctor began pressing on your wound to drain the pus.

“Not much more, almost there. It’s a deep wound, otherwise I wouldn’t have to stitch it.” You whimpered as the doctor pushed even harder for a moment, then covered the area with gauze. You heard scuffling again.

“Let go of me Benn, I need to - I said stop shoving me!” Shanks’ voice rose with more anger in his voice. His scent was starting to bloom, filling the air with the smell of oranges and cloves in an unconscious effort to soothe you.

“One more time and you’re out of the cabin until he’s done. Stop talking and distracting everyone. You know it’s for her own good so Let Hongo work,” Benn huffed. You couldn’t concentrate on Shanks anymore because the doctor started to stitch. You closed your lips into a thin line and screwed your eyes shut in a futile effort to block out the pain.

“Ah, relax, relax. If you tense your muscles it hurts more,” the doctor chided you gently as the needle pricked your skin over and over. You relaxed your face as much as you could. You’d had stitches before and you were no stranger to pain but the bite was in such a delicate and sensitive area you couldn’t help as a few tears escaped your eye. Finally, you heard the words you were waiting for.

“All done, just snipping the end of the thread. One more moment and we can move on.” Scissors were brought close to your face and snipped the end of the medical thread. “Look straight ahead for me?” Hongo instructed you, facing you head on. You looked forward, your neck aching with the effort. “And turn to the other side?” You turned and saw Shanks smiling and waving at you despite being held against the wall by Benn. You dropped your eyes after a moment too long.

“So what’s next? Shanks said you had a foot injury? Those are a real drag,” Hongo said, trying to make light conversation. You nodded and crossed your leg over your knee to show the doctor the sole of your foot. Hongo reached out to pick up your foot by the ankle and peered closely at the wound with his glasses.

“Knife?” he asked abruptly. You nodded. “Accident?” You shook your head. 

“Punishment. Ran away,” you said quietly. Hongo hummed and tilted your foot. You used the extra fabric of the extravagant robe to cover yourself more as Hongo lifted your leg and placed your foot on his lap. Shanks growled lightly but otherwise made no noise.

“Luckily it’s pretty shallow. Probably hurts to walk but it should heal quickly. I don’t need to suture it but I am going to wrap it,” Hongo explained. He cleaned the wound and used long nosed tweezers to get a few pieces of debris out. The digging was uncomfortable and made you try to jerk your foot back unintentionally but Hongo’s grip was tight. He finished quickly and wrapped the wound in gauze and bandages.

“Next is the leg, right? Let’s see,” Hongo offered. Your mouth twisted as you thought of having to show the wound. You pointed to the bed and hoped the doctor didn’t think you were arrogant.

“Sure, go ahead and lay down if it's easier for you,” Hongo offered. He picked you up and you heard the Emperor’s rumble returning, making you ball your hands into fists.

“Oi, you’re scaring her Redhair,” Benn said as you were placed on the bed. The rumble stopped for a moment but quickly resumed as soon as you opened your legs to show Hongo the wound. You were covering what you could with the robe but Shanks only got louder as Hongo came closer to you. As his head dipped low to look at it with his glasses, Shanks’s loud roar made you cower. 

“That’s it, we’re leaving,” Ben said, manhandling the Emperor out of the cabin. “I’m keeping this one outside. Let us know when you’re done. C’mon you,” Beckman said, still grappling with a struggling Shanks. You knew that if the Emperor really wanted to stay, no one on board could keep him out. You guessed that the Emperor was trying to allow Hongo to take care of you but the Alpha within him didn’t like the other male so close to you. You closed your eyes and willed this experience to be over as soon as possible. Hongo was touching your upper leg in a professional manner but the feeling of someone near your core had you near tears. This wound wasn’t as bad as the one on your neck since you had secretly washed it a few times. 

“All done. Good job, Omega. You did better than some of the men on board,” Hongo said before removing the gloves and putting his glasses back in their case. “You stay there, I’ll get Shanks.” No sooner had the doctor finished speaking than the door opened and the Emperor strode in, carrying a basket in his hand. You sat up and gulped, unsure how angry he would be. 

“Out,” he said to Hongo before he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry Hong. What I meant was, thank you. And you were right about Beckman, owe ya one.”

“Owe me a bottle of booze is whatcha owe me,” Hongo said, smiling easily. “Have her eat and go to sleep. Poor thing’s exhausted.” 

“Already on it,” Shanks murmured. He placed the basket on the bed as the doctor left, taking his equipment with him. “Didn’t know what you liked, so I took a bit of everything. The crew already ate dinner and those assholes left no leftovers. Well, we didn’t really know you were coming, but Lucky’ll make you whatever you want tomorrow. For now, here’s a little snack.” Shanks reached into the basket and pulled out some cheese, dried meat, grapes, crackers, and some nuts. “I stole a bunch of this from Beckman’s cabin, he’s got good taste.” You hesitatingly reached over to the slices of cheese, taking one in your hand. Biting into it, you nearly moaned. You hadn’t had fresh food in forever, subsisting on whatever Kid remembered to bring into his cabin. 

You ate a few more slices in silence, Shanks leaning back on the bed and eating some of the mixed nuts he’d taken. “You want one?” he asked, holding a grape in his hand. You nodded and held out your hand to take one from the bowl. “Ah ah. Open,” he demanded, putting the grape right in front of your lips. You obediently opened your mouth and Shanks popped the fruit in. You didn’t know why but you felt yourself starting to blush faintly. You were wearing the Emperor’s robe, on his bed, after he bathed you, and yet feeding you a grape made you feel embarrassed? You yawned after you swallowed, your eyelids feeling heavy. You wanted to rest but were still unsure if you needed permission.

“Aw, you’re tired? ‘S alright, we can eat more tomorrow. Drink a cup of water and we’ll be off to bed,” Shanks said, pouring water into a cup from a bottle on the nightstand. Handing you the cup, your fingers brushed against his. You drank greedily, draining the cup in seconds. “More?” Shanks asked but you shook your head. He quickly put the food back in the basket and set it on the floor.

“Lay down. You look so sleepy little Omega. Come on, right here next to me on the bed, it’s nice and warm, I’ll hold you,” Shanks cooed at you. Your lip wobbled at the suggestion but you held firm and didn’t cry. You’d spent many nights on the cold floor of Kid’s cabin, your chains pulling at your weakened limbs. Crawling over to the head of the bed, you laid down on your side on one of the fluffy, feather filled pillows. The Emperor covered your body with his heavy blanket and you burrowed down into its warmth while inhaling the rich scent of the Alpha. You’d missed being warm and comfortable at night more than any other luxury, even more than eating regularly. Shanks laid down behind you and pulled you close to his body, draping his arm loosely across your torso. 

“Good night, little Omega,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“Good night, Emperor,” you croaked, already half asleep. One thought tickled the corner of your mind before you could succumb to sleep completely. “The other ship?” You’d felt the Emperor’s boat rock earlier but you were too focused on your circumstances to notice anything else.

“Hm? Kid’s ship? Dorry and Broggy cut it in half,” Shanks mumbled while running his hand up and down your ribs. You hummed happily and let sleep overtake you.

You’d been living on Beta Island incognito, hiding your status as an Omega. You didn’t want to be sold to a Celestial Dragon in your late teens, as your parents had planned for you. So you’d escaped your home island shortly before your 13th birthday, evading patrol after patrol, living your life on the run. Eventually, you found yourself on Beta Island, which suited you just fine. Only Betas were allowed to live on the island, avoiding all the trouble that the other two dynamics brought with them. You’d taken suppressants since your escape and because you’d never gone into heat, you were able to pass yourself off as a regular Beta. It had been an idyllic time for you, as you worked and made friends with the Betas on your island. You had even deluded yourself into thinking that maybe your life would be alright, when the Kid pirates attacked the island.

You were running away from the chaos and destruction downtown, trying to keep from being spotted as well as you could. Scrambling through an alley, you passed the Captain himself, who was laughing at the bloodshed and pain he was causing innocent people. You thought he hadn’t seen you but you suddenly felt yourself being dragged backwards, back towards the pirate. Panicking, you tried even harder to wriggle away and escape but it proved to be pointless. Later, you found out that he was magnetizing the grommets in your clothes to bring you towards him. Captain Kid grabbed you in his metallic hand once you were close and inhaled a deep whiff of your scent. When you were on suppressants, your ability to scent was dulled but you could still tell you didn’t like his acrid aroma. Kid smelled like sweat, blood, oil, and anger, not an appealing combination. Pushing on the gigantic metallic arm, you tried in vain to dislodge yourself from his grasp. 

“What’s an Omega like you doing on Beta Island?” he asked, crushing your ribs with his gigantic fist. You weren’t sure if he knew his own strength, but he was keeping you in his clutches with ease.

“N-not O-omega,” you grunted out, trying to breathe through the constriction of his hand. You were still squirming, trying to get away from the large pirate.

“Oh yeah? You sure? Your pussy smells like Omega. It’s practically cryin’ for me to take you right here,” he sneered. “Oi! Killer! Take this one back to the ship, lock ‘er in my cabin.” He yelled to a man in a full face mask. Leaning closer to your face, he licked your neck and leered at you. “We’ll find out later if that pussy is Omega or not,” he said, handing you off to Killer. You tried to get away from the masked man, to no avail. Killer was just as strong as his Captain and wasn’t letting you down. Kicking, screaming, pounding his back did nothing as the first mate advanced towards the ship. 

Quickly chaining you to the Captains bed, the first mate considered you for a moment. “I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Omega. Lose the attitude. Otherwise, you won’t last long here.” 

He wasn’t wrong. 

Kid had come back to his cabin once the pirates had sufficiently destroyed your peaceful home. You huddled in the corner of the room, as far as your chains would let you, but the Captain had you before him in seconds. Covered in the blood of your former friends, the Captain had disrobed you, ripping through your clothes like they were paper. 

“Lemme see yer,” Kid said, ogling your now naked form. You tried not to cower, but you couldn’t help but tremble before the raw bloodlust in his eyes. You’d never taken a lover before, you had been too nervous it would interfere with your hormones and expose you as an Omega. Kid's leering had led to groping, which led to much more. That first night he’d bitten, clawed, bruised, kissed, and abused you, leaving you broken in spirit and body. You never fully recovered. You quickly learned he didn’t want you talking, didn't want you making eye contact, didn’t want to hear your crying, didn’t want anything from you except your body. He used you as he saw fit, as ruthless to you as he had been to your island. He never even asked your name, most often calling you ‘Omega,’ or ‘Bitch,’ among other colorful names.

You were the Captain’s sex doll, and the crew treated you as such. No one paid you any mind except to tell you to move the fuck out of the way, or to laugh at you as you stumbled out of the Captain’s quarters when he let you. Killer would occasionally bandage your wounds, but Kid preferred you to wear the marks he put on you. Kid wanted the mating bond to form between the two of you, to solidify the fact that you were his and prevent any rivals from taking you. To do that, he needed to bring you into heat. To try to get you to go into heat, he had tried any old wives tale he could find. He locked you in his quarters, denied you food except for his cum, kept you naked for days on end, bit your neck in a claiming bite, anything that might work. None of it did, but it all left you weakened, depleted, and suicidal. 

Even though you could practically feel his disdain for you, Kid sometimes told you his plans late at night after he finished pumping you full of his come. As you laid with tears drying on your cheeks and blood dripping from fresh wounds he’d given you, he told you about his simmering hatred for Red Haired Shanks and how he wanted his revenge. During these conversations, you encouraged him, praising his strength and skill, and told him that he absolutely was powerful enough to take on the Emperor. You were surprised that your voice held out while you were talking, both from disuse as well as from the effort you had to put into lying to his face. Once when you voiced these opinions, he’d stroked your skin while in thought, the first time his touch hadn’t hurt you. 

The day finally came that he attacked the Emperor. You’d heard him powering up his attack, laughing maniacally as he planned to wipe out the fleet of ships you could see from his cabin window. You cringed, waiting for the sounds of the dying….except it never came. Instead, a sonorous voice boomed out “Divine Departure,” bringing a deafening blast to your ship. Screams had followed, but not the ones you were used to. Rather, you detected the screams coming from the crew, yelling that they didn’t want to die, that the Captain had been defeated, that Killer was also knocked out. 

You couldn’t help it, you laughed long and hard, cackling into the darkness that had consumed the ship. You knew your voice had been ruined from too much choking and screaming, your vocal chords permanently damaged at the hands of your would be Alpha. The sounds you made were harsh and coarse, like a ghoul laughing from beyond the grave. Normally you were too ashamed to speak with your butchered voice, but you were too joyous to care. You were happy he’d received vengeance for some of the violence he brought to the world. You could only hope the ship sank and the rest of you with it. 

A few moments later, the door banged open and Emma stood before you, tears running down her face. She didn’t address you, just unchained you from the post on the Captain's bed and pulled you along with her. She was carrying the Poneglyphs, the Captain’s most prized possession aside from you. Emma was running, giving you barely enough time to avoid being dragged, as she brought you to the center of the deck. She bowed, and when you didn’t follow suit right away, kicked you so that you fell to your knees. Glancing up, you saw why.

All powerful Emperor Red Haired Shanks was on the Victoria Punk, staring down the crew impassively as they pleaded for their lives. You dropped your head, not making eye contact with the Emperor. You’d been hit enough to know that Alphas didn’t want you making eye contact with them in any capacity. Shanks approached Heat, who now held both the Poneglyphs and the end of your chain.

Shanks POV

Shanks observed the panicking Commander as he advanced towards their Captain. Kid’s crew were begging for Shanks’s forgiveness, something that would not be given. They had tried to annihilate his subordinate crews and would have, if Shanks hadn’t acted so quickly. Drawing a gun was dangerous, it put your life on the line. And Kid had been given a warning when Beckman shot off his arm. Some lessons had to be learned the hard way. 

A young woman brought the Road Poneglyphs in her hands, along with someone attached to the end of a chain. Handing her Commander both items, the blue haired girl bowed in supplication to Shanks, awaiting his judgment. Noting the chained woman didn’t do the same, the girl kicked the battered woman, bringing her to her knees. Shanks took the Poneglyphs from the Commander, who also handed him the end of the chain of the cowering woman. Shanks had no interest in slaves, he didn’t keep or want any. The slave kept her gaze averted, looking at the ground as she trembled. Her body was littered with bruises in various stages of healing, as well as cuts and welts. She bore a savage mating bite that was clearly infected, along with bruising circling her neck. Breathing in deeply, Shanks hid his surprise as he realized the small woman was an Omega. 

Omegas were exceedingly rare in the world, they were either sold to Celestial Dragons for an incredible amount of money, or outright stolen from their homes. If an Omega bred with an Alpha or Apex Alpha during their heat, the offspring was guaranteed to be either an Alpha or Omega, unlike other pairings. Because the Celestial Dragons took or bought nearly all of the Omegas in the world, wild Omegas were unbelievably scarce. Shanks hadn’t heard of one being found in over a decade. How the Kid pirates had managed to find one and kept her a secret, Shanks didn’t know. 

He said nothing as his own ship passed by, his crew calling out to him. Shanks removed his Emperor’s cloak, covering the shivering woman in its warmth and his scent. Your small trembling fingers took the fabric and held it shut around your body, as you sniffed the material. You still hadn’t said a word or looked at anything besides the floor, but there would be time to investigate later. Throwing the Omega over his shoulder, Shanks took the Poneglyphs in hand and stepped on the railing of the enemy ship. You were light and put up no struggle when Shanks took you, the only sound emanating from you was the clinking of your chains.

“Look over on the island!” Shanks heard the offending crew yell as he launched himself onto the Red Force. The Omega didn’t shout or scream, just gripped his shoulder a little more tightly as he darted into the air. Landing on the Red Force, Shanks yelled out for Hongo.

“Meet me in my cabin. Ten minutes,” Shanks ordered. The doctor nodded his assent, and went below deck, likely to the infirmary to gather supplies. Handing the Poneglyphs to Beckman, Shanks shifted the Omega in his arms so he was carrying you with his arm under your legs. You moved your face so it was buried in the crook of Shanks’s neck, avoiding looking at either the ship or the crew assembled on the deck. He hoped you were acclimating yourself to his scent, it would make your transition away from your previous mate easier. Even through the fear and pain Shanks smelled on you, he could tell your scent was absolutely delicious, like no other woman he’d smelled before. His cock twitched with the thought of claiming you for his own, though your medical issues needed attention first.

Bringing you to his cabin, Shanks shut the door behind you quietly. Depositing the woman onto his bed, you shrank back further into the cloak as if to hide yourself. You gripped the hem of the garment so hard that your fingers were turning white, matching your face as the color drained out. Ah , Shanks thought to himself, she thinks I’m going to ravage her right now like some animal . It made sense, he’d put you on his bed, what else were you going to think? 

Sitting down next to you on the bed, Shanks didn’t speak. Instead, for the first time in the Emperor’s life, he purred. He was an Apex Alpha, a rare breed of Alpha who was able to control other Alphas. It came with Conqueror’s Haki, the two traits going hand in hand. Purring came to him instinctively, but he’d never felt the urge to do so before. He’d had lovers who’d requested it, but Shanks had always laughed them off like they’d told a joke. But seeing you distressed made the rumble come almost unbidden, rising from his chest like a balm. You still didn’t look at him, but your fingers relaxed incrementally. Shanks continued purring for you as you tensed at his presence next to you, tenderly picking you up to sit on his lap. You sat upright, stiff, your body rigid with fear and apprehension.

“Easy, little Omega, easy,” Shanks said between purrs. You didn’t respond but didn’t object either physically or verbally to anything he was doing. Shanks wound his arm around you, pulling you closer to his chest. The rhythmic sounds were working, lulling you into a state of relaxation and calm as your hands dropped to your lap and your head relaxed against his chest.

Your POV

You were gripping onto the Emperor’s black cloak like it was going to shield you from whatever was going to happen next. It was heavy and warm, smelling like tobacco, cloves, and oranges, a heady combination. Even if your life would be no better under the Emperor, at least this scent wouldn’t make the bile rise in your throat. 

You were still avoiding his gaze, your wrists shaking in the chains under his watch. He’d put you on his bed, likely for the same reasons Kid always had. At least he hadn’t thrown you against the wall or forced you to suck his cock first, making you choke until you cried or passed out. Much to your dismay, he began to purr for you. You’d heard stories during your childhood about the Alpha purr. There were whispers that it was a form of mind control, that it was used to beguile Omegas into doing things against their will. Kid had already done a lot of things against your will, the Emperor didn’t need to purr to make you do anything. You hoped this wasn't a precursor to something vile, though you were long past wishful thinking.

But as the Emperor continued to purr and moved you into his lap, you felt it working despite your efforts to remain alert. The soothing rumble had you taking deep breaths and relaxing your hands. You felt your exhaustion returning to you, adrenaline finally having run its course. Against your better judgment, you laid your head on the broad chest of the Emperor behind you. His well muscled arm encircled you, and you were content to forget the horrors that would likely await you in the coming days, feeling only the warmth and comfort of an Apex Alpha’s purr.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door of the cabin, making you jerk upright once again. You’d looked at the door when you’d been surprised, but you quickly affixed your gaze to the floor once again. You hoped Shanks hadn’t seen your mistake, or that he would be willing to forgive you if he did. But he didn’t move to strike you at all, just called out to whoever had the audacity to bother the Captain. 

“Come in, Hongo,” he said calmly. You wanted to hide your face in the crook of his neck again, but you knew there would be no solace found seeking comfort where there was none. Opening the door, a large man with blonde hair came inside, carrying a black leather doctor’s case. You said nothing and remained in place, it was the safest route for the time being. The man, whose name you now knew to be Hongo, walked slowly towards you and his Captain, as if he was walking towards a wild animal.

“How’re we doin’, Captain?” he asked, surveying the scene in front of him. The Captain obviously hadn’t been hurt, he was talking about you.

“Alright,” Shanks answered, arm squeezing you a little tighter. You flinched as the memories of being crushed by Kid’s arm came flooding back to you. “They had an Omega. She needs some help,” he said softly, patting your thigh over his cloak. You were acutely aware that you were completely nude below the cloak. You hoped Shanks wouldn’t take you in front of Hongo, or at least not for the first time. Kid had done whatever he wanted, it didn’t matter to him who saw what he did to you. 

“Sure, no problem,” Hongo replied easily, opening his bag. He brought out a stethoscope first, something you were familiar with. Winding the scope around his neck, he slowly pried the cloak out of your fingers in order to put the bell on your skin. You desperately wanted to stay within the safety of the cloak, but you knew you had no power. If they wanted to see you naked, they were going to get what they wanted. Surprisingly, Hongo didn’t remove the cloak completely, allowing you use it to cover your breasts and lower half while he worked. As Hongo placed the buds in his ears and reached towards you with the scope, you leaned back and away from the advancing hands. You hadn’t meant to, it was instinctive. Shanks started purring for you again as he gently but firmly kept you in place for Hongo, his arm across your waist.

“You’re safe, Omega, he’s not going to hurt you. He’s just checking your lungs and heart,” the Captain said softly. Hongo took his time listening, moving the scope around your back and front. Once he was done, he put the scope away and took out medical gloves. 

“I’m gonna check the wounds on your top half and neck, OK?” Hongo informed you. You said nothing as he began touching the injuries that you’d suffered at the hands of Kid. You kept yourself from making any noises of pain or recoiling when he touched something painful. You knew you looked beaten and ugly, despite avoiding the mirror. Kid always left bite marks, bruises, hickeys, and cuts whenever he was with you. Your breasts looked like they’d been mauled the last time you’d checked them. But the worst of all was your neck - between the times he’d choked you, the bite he’d given you, and the attention he gave your scent glands nightly, it was a column of black and blue. In spite of your efforts, you hissed when Hongo touched your neck tried to move away from his efficient hands. 

But the men weren’t going to let you shrink away from the medical inspection. Shanks cradled your head against his shoulder when Hongo inspected the agonizing bite on the spot between your neck and shoulder, purring all the while. You knew there was something wrong with it, but Kid had never let you touch it or clean the wound, saying that it would affect your mating bond. You thanked the seas that the bond hadn’t formed, but the throbbing pain of the bite had only gotten worse.

“You’ve got a lot of wounds on your torso and neck. Are there more below?” Hongo asked quietly when he was done inspecting your top half. You waited, not knowing if they wanted you to respond or not. Sometimes it was a trick, people would talk about you while you were there but if you responded, you got in trouble. 

“Hm, do you? I thought I saw some before,” Shanks asked you benignly, rubbing his fingers in circles over your skin. They were both quiet for a few moments and you realized they were waiting for you to respond. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk, so you gave a shaky nod while continuing to look at the floor.

“I’m gonna have to look, OK?” Hongo said, crouching down in front of the Captain. He was trying to make eye contact, but you steadfastly stared down, in order to show your obedience. You blinked rapidly several times, willing the tears not to fall from your eyes. You’d been naked in front of so many people, but the fact that Hongo was asking made you feel more vulnerable than ever. You nodded again, but your hands were frozen in place, gripping the cloak with all your meager strength.

“Brave little Omega, doing so well,” the Emperor said into your hair, kissing the top of your head. You didn’t know when the last time you’d been allowed to bathe was, you were sure you smelled disgusting. Shanks unwound his arm from your waist, and slowly tugged the fabric from your hands, letting it fall onto your lap. You tried not to squirm, not to move as the doctor touched your welts and cuts, but you felt humiliated and debased as he poked and prodded you. After a few minutes of inspection, Hongo sighed, stood up to his full towering height and snapped off the gloves.

“There’s a lot going on,” he said to the Emperor, who had rapidly covered you back in the cloak. “She’s got a lot of wounds, some healing, some new. That bite on her neck is infected, it needs to be taken care of immediately. She’s malnourished and has at least one broken rib. And she’s going to go into heat soon.” 

Your eyes finally snapped to the doctor’s, everything lost to the panic suddenly overwhelming you. 

Shanks POV

Perhaps having Dorry and Broggy destroy the ship wasn’t enough. As Shanks watched you flinch away from Hongo’s inspection, his rage rose by the second. He’d seen your naked form on the ship, but the dim light hadn’t revealed to him the depth of your injuries. It was practically a miracle that you were still alive, Shanks thought. It was well known that Omegas weren’t as durable as Betas and Alphas, they were generally treated with care like the treasures they were. But not only were you littered with wounds from head to toe, but you were a shell of a person. You hadn’t said a single word, you hadn’t made eye contact with him yet, and you hadn’t moved an inch outside of where Shanks had placed you. 

Now, with the information that you were going into heat soon, you were panicking. Shanks could feel your heart beating rapidly and saw your chest rising and falling too quickly. The Alpha in him was worried, wanting to soothe the Omega still perched on his lap. Shanks put his hand over your chest, trying to slow the beating of your heart. Even if the Alpha in him wanted to purr and cuddle you until you calmed down, the Captain needed to get a little more information out of you first. You were still lost in your own world, not responding to any stimulus.

“It’s alright, Sweetheart. Everything is going to be just fine. When was your last heat, hmm?” Shanks asked, holding your face in his hand. The touch seemed to ground you, causing you to blink rapidly as if you suddenly remembered there were other people in the room. You shook your head at his question, making Shanks frown at your answer. The longer an Omega went without a heat, the lengthier and more severe the symptoms were when it reappeared. Shanks hoped you hadn’t gone into heat during your time in captivity, it would increase the likelihood of an unwanted pregnancy. Looking at your body, he couldn’t imagine you were capable of carrying life in your current state. 

“What do you mean, little Omega? You haven’t had a heat in a year? Or longer?” Shanks asked. He knew you were scared and upset, but he and Hongo needed to know this information, it was part of the way they would take care of you. He gently turned your face towards his, forcing you to look up at him. You finally looked at his face, though you didn’t meet his eyes. You shook your head again.

“Tell me more, I need to know how to help you,” Shanks prompted, stroking your cheek. You sucked in a shaky breath, trying to gather yourself before speaking.

“Never,” you said in a hoarse whisper. Shanks recognized the voice from the laughter in the wake of battle.

“Never? What do you mean? This would be your first heat?” Hongo asked incredulously. Shanks hadn’t met another Omega, but it was known that they typically had their first heat cycle in their upper teens. 

Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji was the sweetest. He was protective, kind and always so attentive, so knowing of your needs.

It made you giggle, made you kick your feet and daze off at his smile. He’s truly such a dreamboat.

But he was indeed—overbearing. Especially for someone like you.

You weren’t exactly one of the fighters of the crew but when it came down to it—you could muster a punch or two. A kick in the face or a slam in the shin.

But off duty? When you’re relaxing and at ease?

Gods, you avoided it when you could.

Your personal space was your one guarded treasure—skin onto skin made you shiver, sudden movements made you flinch and hand grasping your waist made you queasy.

You worried about it often—what if Sanji doesn’t want anything with you after all the attempts of ignoring his affection? One you cannot even return yourself? You feel so selfish, so stupid even.

What kind of girlfriend can’t return a hug? What kind of girlfriend can’t give a kiss? It’s such a small thing, it should be easy and yet you cannot bring yourself to do it.

The guilt makes it to your stomach, all the way up to your chest.

It’s not that you didn’t want to touch him, hold him; you just couldn’t do it.

The crew was having its usual after-victory-party and as much as you wanted to attend it, you were already so tired.

Your body was heavy, your head felt groggy. Shoulders stiff and your neck aching. You just wanted to rest for a bit—alone, away.

Not to mention you got an awful bruise on your ankle, not exactly sprained but it stung when you walked. You didn’t feel like it was something Chopper had to look over… besides, you hated doctor’s appointments anyways.

So here you are.

Hand on the wall to steady yourself, panting as you try not to wince for every step.

Dragging your bruised foot behind you as you try and make it to the kitchen. You need a pack of ice for it at least.

You hear the partying from afar, a smile presses down your lips when you hear Ussop’s cry of victory for beating Luffy at volleyball.

And it isnt until that, you hear a certain blonde lovesick chef sing your name.

Your eyes drag from the floor, the once stiff shoulders, neck aching and the grogginess from before lightens at the sight of your boyfriend.

He has a wide smile on his face, and you return one back.

“Sanji!!” You try and straighten yourself, so not to drag attention to your wound but he only beams at you.

“I was wondering where you wandered off to, my sweet.” he lifts the silver tray of dessert and drink into view, “I’ve come bearing your refreshments. You weren’t around so naturally I got curious.”

You lean against the wall, giving him a cheesy smile, “is that really all~? You know, you can just say you missed me.”

He blushes, fiercely. “I... Ahem. Well of course, that too.”

He twirls to you, suddenly quite giddy on his feet as he leans over, tray of treats offered to you.

You take the silver platter, it’s loaded with your favourites and when you look up, you see him tilting his cheek at you.

As if expecting a kiss of gratitude.

Your eye twitch, adverting your gaze. Pretending to not have seen it.

“You’re the kindest, Sanji.” you start moving, biting down the sharp pain. “But If you remain here any longer, Luffy will be going for the refills already.” You say to avoid confrontation, trying your best in seeming aloof, normal.

He blinks, watching your attempt at wobbling away.

You’re oblivious to it but he takes in your silhouette like a painting. Like a flower. His gaze falls on the curve of your lips, to the slope of your neck, the trace of your collarbones… all the way down to the shape of your legs.

He blinks, noticing a certain bruise blooming across your feet.

He does not think when he does it—he simply only cares. Only worries, because for you, how could he not?

“My love, hold on—“

He strides forward, blocking your path.

He kneels down, fingers making it to your ankle.

His hand is meant to be gentle, meant to be soft but the sharp sting of pain of the bruise and the sudden sensation of skin onto skin makes you flinch.

You jerk your feet away, “S-Sanji!” You wince, backing away and he misunderstands your discomfort.

“Sorry, beautiful, I just thought that should be looked over—“

“I’m fine.” You swallow, sliding your leg behind your healthy shin. “It’s nothing really. Just a small bruise.”

“Small?” He looks at it again, not quite sure what you mean with small.

“My love, you should at least let Chopper look it over, I’m sure he’ll—“

“Sanji,” your voice becomes stern, eyes hard as you feel that usual unease at the thought of someone touching you, let alone examine you.

“I rather not. Trust me, it’s a small little bruise, it’s not going to kill me.”

He blinks at you, still kneeling down.

Theres something off with your expression.

It’s hard lined, stiff—rigid.

As if you’re hiding something.

As if you do not wish him to uncover something.

And he’s not wrong.

What kind of girlfriend can’t offer a kiss on the cheek? What kind of relationship is it where you cannot hug and cuddle? You feel that same guilt from before twist your stomach and your hands clutch the tray.

Sanji makes it back up, taking the tray away from you and setting it down onto a nearby table.

“Is everything alright? You seem anxious about something.” He says, looking you over. His eyes are soft, his curled brow slightly raised.

A look that makes your chest heavy. You cannot meet his gaze.

“No, it’s nothing Sanji, I’m just going to bed. So don’t worry.” You try and move past him but he grabs a hold on your shoulder—the same sickening feeling you always feel—makes you twitch. Makes you flinch away.

“Did I… did I do something wrong?”

perhaps it is the grogginess from before, perhaps it’s the pain from your foot and the guilt ravishing down your stomach—but you snap.

“I said it’s nothing! Why can’t you understand that? Look, I appreciate the desserts and refreshments but I just want to go to sleep. I promise it’s nothing.”

Your hand clutch onto the wall, not being able to face him. You try and take a step forward, but the bruise makes you land the footing wrong, twisting it to the side.

You wince, buckling forward and before your knees smash against the floor tiles—Sanji manages to catch you.

Your face lands into his chest, his hands on your arms and you slump into the floor. Foot swelling with an aching pain.

His touch is feather light, careful, gentle. As if even now he sees your struggle.

And at that—your heart breaks. His kindness, his patience, his earnest desire to care for you, to protect and be there for you. It makes everything hurt so much more.

You start to sob, shoulders trembling and Sanji tries to meet your gaze.

“H-hey, what happened? Did you hurt yourself? Here, let me help you get to Cho—“ his hand loosens on your arm but you panic—grabbing him by the sleeve. Hard. Firm.

“No!” Your chin falls low. “Please don’t. I rather just have you here.”

Your voice is a plea, and in that, something within Sanji stirs.

The girl he fell in love with; happy, joyful and sweet has started to reveal her cracks—your heart lays ready. Open and vulnerable for him to see. You feel guilty, you feel frustrated, you would not be surprised if his patience snapped here and now… but Sanji doesn’t discard you. Doesn’t tease or demean you.

Instead he lets you sob.

Gentle, sturdy hands bringing you closer, and closer still. You tell him how you feel, you let him know of your anguish and your struggle. You tell him all of it and as you do, he only hums in response. Taking in the scent of your hair, feel the warmth of your back. He praises you, smoothers you, and wipe the snoot of your face.

And when you come to a close, he rubs away the tears staining your cheek.

“You thought I would grow impatient of you?”

You press your lips together, “You’re always so kind to me Sanji but I go from hot to cold in an instant. And you’re always so ready to give me all the affection and love in the world but I can barely return a hug. I feel like such a mess.”

At that, he exhales through his nose. A smile coming onto his face. “Is that it? I thought I did something to hurt you.” He tilts your face to him, “I would never do that to you. Even if you’re angry at me, even if you would come to hate me—hugs or no hugs, my heart will always be yours.”

You feel your vision sting with tears again but he wipes them away.

“You mean that?”

“Always.”

For the first time since you started dating him, you lean into his touch. Feel yourself sinking into his chest. Your hand makes it to his back, slithering up to his shoulders.

It’s warm, it’s soft.

He smells of cigarettes and something refined, like cologne.

For a moment, you two sit there. On the floor. Embracing. Holding. His arms around you are not tight but firm. Strong arms promising you safety. And perhaps, bit by bit, the guilt that once shackled you by the neck, scatters into pieces. Laying you bare in your lover’s chest; vulnerable, unguarded. For the first time in a long, long time, you feel ready. You feel safe.

And you will remember this feeling. In his arms, in his embrace till you grow old and withered. Knowing you’ll have him by your side. Forever and always.

Summary: Sanji will carry you back to bed, your face nestled in the crook of his neck. He will tuck you in, and roll your curtains down. But before he has the chance to leave, you will grab his wrist—your chest warm and bristling. You will ask him to lean in and when his face inches near yours; quickly, swiftly, you peck him on the cheek.

“Sleep well, Sanji.”

You won’t see it as it’s hidden under the dim light, shadows caressing his face but his cheeks are bright pink, his ears are burning red. “You too, my love.”

Smoker

Your commander, your captain and your lover. He’s broody, he’s bossy but you like him that way.

Despite his stern and rough exterior, he’s quite the softy underneath. You liked to tease him for it—you found it pretty cute after all. He’d just call you noisy and wave you off.

But as indifferent as he try to seem—he’s more observant than he lets on.

Smoker wasn’t an overly affectionate lover in the domain of physical touch, public displays of it was a no-go. Which was fine by you; you weren’t exactly the most needy in that aspect.

When it was just the two of you, you still moved out of reach. When he skimmed over you thighs, he’d sense your shoulders tense, your lips pressed and your face stiff.

He didn’t prod, didn’t question. He leaves you be. Let you have your space, your distance. And as weeks start to pass you realise he does not initiate anything anymore. No hugs, no hand holding. Instead he waits, patiently.

If you two walked, side by side, no one would be able to tell you two were dating.

One day Tashigi even asked, “Are you two still together?”

You had blinked then. “Yeah…?”

“Oh. Okay. I was just wondering since you two barely touch each other.” She said before being commanded back onto deck.

That interaction made you pull your brows together. Were the two of you really that unaffectionate with each other?

No—he calls you ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling’ even in front of others. He still looks at you with something soft in his gaze, still rolls out your name like it’s precious.

But Tashigi, a close friend to both him and you questioned your relationship—your eye started twitching.

This needs to change.

Months you’ve dated him and you two still haven’t kissed.

Call it a woman’s determination, a feminine passion—a burning female spirit but this needed to be dealt with.

After work you stomped directly into the local lingerie shop and bought the cutest one without blinking. All lace and see through. The cashier didn’t even get the chance to wish you a good day before you stomped back.

You did your entire full-body-shower, used all your expensive products that has been collecting dust for the sake of special occasions—and even made sure to paint your toenails in glitter.

You were more than just determined—you were ready.

You weren’t going to battle, you were going to war. You mapped out a plan, scheduled time and date—you even lit the special candles on!

You gave him a note the next day.

Pink. Heart shaped.

An invitation in others eyes, a war declaration in yours.

“9 pm. Pronto. Bring wine. “

He had blinked. The letter was curt but doodled with hearts. You even managed to do a winky-face at the end.

He cocked a brow. And brought the letter slowly closer to his nose.

Is that… perfume?

The one you usually wear?

Tashigi sees it too and takes a peek.

Only to hold in a tight squeak.

“Oh my.”

“‘Oh my’-what.” Smoker bites back and she covers her mouth. “No, nothing captain just er… Good luck, tonight!”

He bites deeper into his cigar, why does he need a good luck? Is it perhaps a threat and not a casual quality-time spent like usual? He stares at the glittery letter like it was a crime scene needed to be solved.

Whatever you had planned, if he knew what’s best for him, he better not miss it.

Subordinates around him glanced to each other at that pink heart shaped letter in his hand. If they knew what’s best for them, they better pretend to not have seen it.

It was 9 pm. And you were ready.

The room was lit in candles.

Swaddled in ribbons and rose petals.

Your hair was scented. Your legs were waxed.

You even wore your armour made of sheer fabric and laced edges.

You stood in the centre of the room, the door unlocked.

So when he walked in the first thing he saw is you beaming, all joy and glitter as you spread your arms out.

“Smoker! ♡”

He freezes.

Wine bottle clattering.

Jaw on the floor.

You stood there, exposed and ready.

Still smiling even as he just stands there, his face gradually growing redder and redder the longer he stares.

He stutters out your name, not sure what he’s seeing.

“What the… what is this?”

“I’m taking our relationship to the next level. What else?”

He blinks. And then he manages to rip his gaze from you, eyes darting across the room with such intensity you almost believe he’s analysing a war-game.

“Ahem!” You say and he returns to look at you. You spread your arms and hands out further. “Won’t you er… come closer?”

“Er.”

“Er?” You repeat, your face coming into a scowl. “What do you mean ‘er’? Do you know how much effort I put into myself tonight? And all you say is… ‘er’!?”

He seems to understand now why Tashigi wished him good luck for tonight.

He takes his cigar out, “Doll…” he mutters, closing the door behind him. Face still slightly pink. He picks the wine off the floor and put it on a nearby counter.

He comes closer, and you brace yourself to be pounced on but instead he only stands there in front of you. And the longer he just stares and looks you over, the more you burn red.

His gaze goes over you, the shape of your lips, to the point of your chin down to the curve of your neck. Your chest rising hard and tense.

“…Darling?” You say and he hums. Caressing your cheek with his knuckles before striding behind you. Slumping down on the edge of the bed.

“H-hey! What are you doing?”

He gives you a brow, “that’s what I should be asking you.”

“What do you mean? Aren’t my intentions clear enough?” You gesture at the candle lights, the lingerie and the flower petals but he only stares harder into you.

You blush.

Both from nerves and embarrassment.

And suddenly, you feel very, very insecure.

You pull your arms in, hands clutching your chest, your heart thumping.

“Don’t you… don’t you want me?” The sensitive tone of your voice makes him straighten himself. “No—I mean, of course I do but this is so unlike you. We haven’t even shared a kiss and now you want…” he looks around the room and you grow red.

“So? W-we can kiss now!”

You inch closer, suddenly the newfound confidence you once had from days of preparation has faded. And you’ve grown back into being apprehensive, shy.

You go to stand in front of him, plucking his cigar from his mouth.

“L-let’s start now…” you feel your lips wry and he only watches as you lean down. Calm, and perfectly still. Hard eyes set on yours.

You place your clammy hands on his broad shoulders, your breath hot and heavy as you inch near.

Only a bit more… only a bit closer…

Your nose was grazing his now and you feel shivers run down your spine, feel your breath come out in shudders and your legs running cold. You swallow.

Closer… still a bit closer…

You squeeze your eyes shut. Pulling away last second. Your hands snapping back to clutch your chest.

Your heart was hammering, loud and heavy—you feel tears glazing your vision.

“Hey…” he reaches for your wrist but you pull away.

What the hell has gotten into you?

You were so determined a second ago… so why… why are you sobbing like a little child?

Your brooding and stern boyfriend goes to his feet, faintly he guides you to sit down onto the bed and you do. Feeling your sobs getting uncontrollable.

He sits down with you, his knee touching yours. Watching as your face places in your hands.

He says your name, calmly, sweetly. His tone so soft compared to the one he usually carries, a tone that is reserved solely for you.

“Hey, look at me.”

And you do.

You hold in your sobs. Chewing your lip. Snoot running down your chin. He only lets out a sigh at the state of you, eyes softening.

“You’re unbelievable.” He takes a nearby towel, and leans in near.

“Be good and stay still for me,”

You nod. Hiccuping.

He rubs your cheeks. Wipes your nose.

Once done he only gives you a brow.

“What were you thinking?” He barks out and your hands clutch your thighs.

“I only wanted… I only wanted us to be closer.”

“Closer?” He tilts his head, “You don’t think we’re close?”

“No I do! Don’t get me wrong, I do. It’s just…” you fiddle with a strand of hair. “I just want to touch you… that’s all…” your voice grows softer, your head sinks lower.

Your lashes wet and your eyes already swollen.

You hear him rumble a sigh. Feel him ruffle up your hair. You glance at him and you swear you see him smile. A fraction of one. That small, cocky one. The one that tugs at one corner more. The one that makes you clench your legs together.

“Then why don’t you?”

You blink.

Yes… why was it so hard for you? Why were you so wary of others touching you? Why… why?

Sometimes when they did, you would question their intentions. Is it a bargain? A transaction? Even with Smoker, you had those thoughts sometimes. It’s not like you didn’t want him to touch you but…

Your mouth moved on its own. You sit there, close and next to him and spill it all out. Despite wearing only a sheer dress made of lace and frills—you don’t feel vulnerable. You don’t feel scared. Not with him. Not with the way he looks at you, like you’re the one sole thing in this world that matters.

So between the scented candles, the scattered rose petals and the softness of his gaze—you come undone. And you don’t pull away, you don’t stagger and you don’t make distance. You let him close, so close your heart is laid open. Bursting with longing, beating with need.

When you finish—he only takes a last puff of smoke before drilling it down the ashtray. His focus returning to you.

“You’re a foolish woman.”

“You don’t need to be mean—“

“You’re foolish for thinking you could find comfort in someone like me.” His hand reaches out, slowly, softly—like he’s afraid you’d go up in smoke any second now.

“But I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. If this is what you want, what you need—then I’m prepared to give you my all.”

His hand is placed on your jaw. Strong, large hands that are so tender, so gentle at the touch of you. For once you don’t flinch, you don’t back away or feel shivers run down your spine.

Instead you lean in, closer to his face, feel his breath onto yours. Smoke and cigar. You feel a smile curl on your lips.

You tug onto his coat, hands slightly trembling but you don’t care. You want him, you need him.

“Kiss me.” You say, and he chuckles, low and quiet.

His kiss is slow and steady, wet clicking sounds escaping when he pulls away but you tug him closer. “More.”

“You sure are demanding, woman.”

But he obeys. This time the kiss is deeper, it’s hotter, it’s sloppier. A kiss that leaves no room for doubt, no question for sincerity. You feel a surge of warmth in your chest, one that makes you smile, makes you greedy. You break the kiss off when you’ve been robbed off of air. You’re heaving, you’re panting.

But you don’t feel nauseous, you don’t feel odd. Instead you feel light, you feel safe.

You see him look at you like a man who’s won the damn lottery and maybe he has. Because it sure does feel like it.

And you? You can only grin like an idiot, all goofy and inlove. You watch as he pulls you in for an embrace. It’s slow, a bit clumsy but his strong arms wraps around you anyways.

Not tight. Not heavy. But present.

“I’ve… I wanted to do this for a long, long time.”

Your chest squeezes at that. And you feel your own body leaning into his, melting into his chest, your hands tugging his back. You smile into his neck. All warm and happy.

“Me too.”

Summary: After that night, things got easier between you two. You guys weren’t exactly hugging and making out in public, god no, but sometimes Tashigi would spot how your legs would be entangled with his under the table. Your foot playfully nudging his. Or see a large, firm hand placed securely on your thigh. Nothing loud. Nothing obvious.

Tashigi will blush pink then… she rather not imagine what her two superiors were up to that eventful night with the heart shaped letter. She rather not think of it at all.

Dracule Mihawk

Measured, precise, focused. Mihawk isn’t rash or clumsy in his making. He notes the way your gaze flickers when he caresses your cheek, feel the way your chest tightens, air stuck in your throat when he traces the curve of your neck.

He sees it. Notes it. Let’s you have your distance. No questions asked.

Mihawk is a patient lover, one who is willing to wait—and for you? He’ll do more than just that. He’ll ensure safety, promise you a guarded home and a secure future.

It made you happy, it made you feel settled and cherished. But when you sit in bed with him, the night breeze slithering its way by the opened windows, the pale moonlight peeking behind velvet curtains—you long for more.

Despite the fear, despite the wariness and the anxiety taking root in your heart; You want him to come closer to you.

You want to feel his skin, feel his lips press on yours.

On his side of the bed, he’s reading a book, the candle light gives the sharp curves of his face a quiet glow. His golden eyes low and focused, dithering from line to line.

Your cheeks are flushed, your hands are warm.

You feel your thighs clenching, your chest brimming. You want more than just kissing, more than just skin onto skin.

And yet you hesitate.

You know why he’s withdrawn his affection, knowing he’s waiting for you to make that move, but despite knowing it’s out of respect of your own heart, you fear that maybe he doesn’t want you anymore.

Doesn’t want to hold you.

Doesn’t want to kiss and embrace you. You know that is not the case and yet…

“Mihawk…” you breathe out his name, for some reason, tonight you feel especially shy. Especially soft.

He turns his sharp gaze to you, giving you a brow. “Yes?”

Your lips are at gape—unsure what to say.

Touch me. Hold me… Kiss me…?

That would be too much wouldn’t it? Too forward, too fast and too nerve wracking. But you want it, you know you want it.

But if he did do it—if he did listen to you and leaned in? What then? You feel a shiver sending down your arms, your stomach coming into knots at the thought of physical contact.

You’re scared. You’re anxious. You’re worried.

So you do what you’ve always done.

“No it’s nothing.” You slump down into bed, turning your back at him. Heart thumping, cheeks bristling.

For a moment, Mihawk watches you.

The way your shoulders were tensed, and how your expression was so… tender. There was something hidden behind the soft glow on your face—the way your lips were parted, the flushed cheeks and how your eyes were glinting, saying something that couldn’t be anything but: “I need you, I want you.”

He closes his book and he lays on his side, facing your back. Elbow planted on a pillow, cheek resting on his palm, his head held high.

He says your name, softly. Quietly. Like it’s a secret, a prayer. You turn then, and your face reddens even more.

His shirt is busted open, ivory skin peaking behind white frills, black hair glinting silver with the pale moonlight. His eyes low and dangerous—eyes that are solely focused on you.

Hes quiet for a spell, taking in the shape of your mouth, the soft edges of your face. The pink blush spreading across your cheeks.

Perhaps it is the way he looks at you; the softness in his gaze, the warmth blazing down your stomach and the need bulging out your chest—your hand reaches out for his. Slowly. Carefully. Like he’s danger, like he’s made of cuts and edges.

Everything feels so hazy, like a fever of some kind, a dream you never wish to wake up from.

You take his hand in yours, it’s large, it’s calloused, it’s rough. You guide his palm to your cheek and you smile. His gaze softens at the sight of it. Not a lot. Not something you would normally notice but a fraction, a shred of affection.

And you see it then—not once has he lost his attraction towards you. Even if he has withdrawn his affection, and kept his distance, not one drop of his desire has gone unchallenged by him.

He wants you, as much as you want him.

Your chest brims, your smile making your cheeks rounder.

“Can you kiss me?” When you say it, your voice is a hush, a tender whisper.

“Do you want that?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

And he sits up, inching closer until his frame is hovering above yours. You’re laying on your back, eyes locked on his lips. Probably soft… probably cold…

His hands are braced between your head. His face is a myriad of secrets, but the way he looks down on you, eyes following the lines of yours face—you start to feel exposed. Almost vulnerable and weak.

You feel your lip starting to quiver, your pulse rising and your blood rushing hard and fast.

“You’re beautiful.” He says it not as a comment but a fact, a truth that cannot be questioned and you clench your legs. Melting under his focused gaze.

And as if he had all the time in the world, he leans in. Slowly, quietly, lips inching near yours. It takes everything in you not to arch your neck and take his mouth in yours.

His kiss is soft at first, almost like a peck but one that stays. Lingering. Feeling. He tilts back by a little, watching your expression before kissing you again. This time a bit harder, a bit longer. It becomes wet and heated.

You moan into it, feeling shivers run down your arms and when he parts you let out a soft gasp.

“Are you okay?” His breath is warm against your face and you nod. “Mhm.”

You cannot bring yourself to form any words but you rise up from the sheets. Your hands placing themselves above his pecs, guiding him down onto bed.

You roll yourself over him, straddling between his torso—heart beating, fingers trembling.

It feels weird, it feels strange but you don’t back away. Not now. Not with the way hes looking at you.

His knuckles reaches for your cheek and when they brush you—barely a caress, a ghost of a slither and still, you flinch at the sudden contact.

“You’re bold today.” He says, lip quirking up one corner and you incline your head. “Mmh… Mihawk, I want you to touch me.”

He blinks, coming into a sudden stir.

Dracule Mihawk; one of the Seven Warlords of the sea, ex-Marine Hunter and definition of “I can cut you from where you stand”—is for the first time (since a long time), panicking.

Or atleast panicking in the most Mihawk way possible.

His eyes darts across your face, the knuckle caressing your cheek is frozen in place and at loss for words.

He opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it again. He swallows.

“Touch you how?”

“Erm.”

You feel your face burning up, “I suppose… softly?”

A small chuckle escapes from him, well not an actual chuckle but equivalent to one. A soft exhale from his nose, the tiniest fraction of a smile.

The knuckle grazing your cheek, turns, and his palm presses against your face. You feel yourself lean into it and he takes his other hand and place it on your chest. Above your heart.

“You want this?”

“More than anything else.”

And thus, the hand on your chest slides down, down to your stomach. Skimming over your thighs and—and you flinch. Grabbing his hands.

Your heart beats hard and uncontrollably, your chest heaving and your stomach dropping.

You feel yourself spiralling—the loss of control, the fear rising like no other. You feel yourself becoming cold.

“C-can you just hold me instead? I’m scared.” You feel your insides twist and turn, your fingers running frozen but Mihawk does not stress you.

He sees you. He knows you.

Slowly, gently—kindly, he guides your face to his chest. Strong arms coming to hold you, encase you, protect you. Holding you dear like a blade.

Your head presses against him, he smells of wine and something sharp. Something dark.

He does not rub circles on your back, does not pat or squeeze you but simply holds you in place. To keep you safe, to keep you warm and grounded.

He looks down to you, sharp eyes growing soft. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

And your chest squeezes, hands clutching onto his sleeves.

You know he is and you know he will.

Summary: You both stay like that for a while. You in his lap, cheek pressed to his chest. You feel him take in the scent of your hair and you lean in. Letting yourself melt into his warmth as sleep comes to beckon. When days start to pass, you will notice feeling a little bolder, a little sturdier. Slowly, gradually, you will not shy away from his embrace. From his touch and his presence. Mihawk is after all—a patient lover. You take your time with it, some days are harder than others but you will never have to be nervous for his patience coming undone. No. Not with him. Not with the man who loves you, adores you, worships you.

Portgas D. Ace

A flame that burns hotter than anyone else’s, his passion raw, his heart swelling with both pride and fire.

Ace does not simply like you—he loves you. He burns for you, he breathes and lives for you.

He wants you like nothing he’s had before. When he sees your figure appear from the far distance his mouth comes agape—his cheeks burns red when you swipe a lock of hair behind your ears.

He watches you, yearns for you.

When you come close he hitches his breath. Swings his arms and makes sure to clear his throat before replying to you.

You find it cute of course. You laugh and you smile at his obvious affection for you. But despite dating for months now, you two haven’t done anything but hand holding and occasionally when you feel extra spicy, you wrap your arm around his.

Not often. Not much.

After all; you have your distance with it. And sometimes, you find yourself not wanting to go further than that but when you’re in a relationship with someone, that isn’t realistic.

The idea of someone holding you too tight, too firm—it scares you. The feeling of a hand slithering between your thighs makes your stomach turn and the thought of it frightens you like no other.

A memory from before you met with Pop still haunts you. Ever since, your skin has become a prison. Sometimes you felt dirty, filthy—impure. Other times you felt angry, disappointed—hurt.

And It’s not like you didn’t want Ace to touch you—in fact he’s the only one you want to touch, to feel, to hold.

You tried once, when you had gotten yourself drunk enough to numb it down and let him give you a kiss on the lips.

Back then, he had laughed. He had smiled. And you wanted to smile back. But there was this feeling of nausea reaching all the way up to your throat, and your stomach twisting.

That kiss? You hated it. And for a split moment, you hated him too.

You pretended it was nothing, told yourself it would go away, and that you would feel better in a day or two.

But life isn’t that simple.

Nowadays, you couldn’t look him in the eye. You strode further away from him and when you met his gaze you snapped away. Pretending not to have seen him.

It’s not like you hated him, it’s not like you were angry at him—no, this unease was directed at yourself.

Why are you like this? Why can you not get over it? Why must it plague you even now—when you have someone like Portgas D. Ace who loves you. Who cares and wants you?

You felt awful. You felt disappointed and angry at yourself. Why was it so hard for you…?

It happened one afternoon, Ace had gathered up his courage and took his chance when you were finally alone on the dock.

He calls your name, “Wait up!”

When you stop and turn, you see your very loving and passionate boyfriend run up to you.

“Oh, hi Ace.”

“Hey. look, erm. You busy?”

You shake your head, “No, I was just about to see Marco with something. Why? Is everything okay—?”

He takes a step forward and you keep yourself from flinching.

“I was just thinking, lately that uh.” He rubs his neck, “Are you avoiding me?”

You press your lips shut.

Yeah you were.

“No, what makes you think that?” You try and force a smile and he cocks his head to the side.

“You… sure?”

“Yep.”

He blinks at you and you blink at him.

Ace looks you over.

Your expression is stiff, awkward. Eyes not meeting. His hand reaches for your shoulder but you instinctively take a step back.

And you curse yourself for glancing at him.

His hand falls. His expression—hurt.

“Hey, beautiful you know you can talk to me right? Did I hurt you? Or make you sad?”

“No, nono Ace, you didn’t do anything. I’m fine really. Im just tired lately that’s all.”

He pulls his brows together, “… Are you sure?” His tone is soft, almost a bit… sad? A tone that breaks your heart.

“Ace, I—“

“Hey lovebirds!”

Both you and Ace snap your heads to the sound of the voice. It’s Izu.

“Quit your lovers quarrel and get over here Ace! Pop needs your help.”

Ace opens his mouth to protest but you talk over him, “You should go Ace.” Your voice is curt, sharp. “I needed to help Marco anyways.”

Before you let him get a word in, you push yourself away. Leaving him alone on the dock.

It wasn’t easy, it really wasn’t easy but you cursed yourself all the same.

You bang your head against the pillow.

The hell is wrong with you!?

Why can’t you be honest? Why did you pull away? God you feel so stupid!

You didn’t want to hurt Ace’s feelings, you didn’t want to lie straight to his face but what were you supposed to say?

‘Sooo I have issues and one of them is I don’t like people touching me. Whoopsie!’

You press yourself deeper into your pillow.

Yeah that isn’t going to work out.

You feel angry at yourself, disappointed and frustrated.

Why was it so hard?

You wanted to pull your hair out.

Your door is met with rapid knocks. Ace calls your name from outside, “you in there?”

You open the door up for him and he stands there, long and lean.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He says back, the lantern light giving his face a soft glow.

“I was worried you’d already be asleep, mind if I come in?”

“No of course!” You say, tone awkward and he moves to sit on your bed, and you sit next to him with a respectful distance.

For a moment the both of you just sit and stare at your shoes. Twiddling with your fingers. Tapping your heels.

“So… about last time…” he clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” You turn to look at him and his eyes are set on the floor. Face hard and firm.

“I gave it some thought and I think I understand now. Ever since I kissed you that night, you haven’t looked me in the eye. We were both so drunk and I was so excited; I completely got ahead of myself. I’m sorry. You probably don’t want something like this with someone like me—“

“No.” In panic, you cut in and he turns to look at you.

“No?”

“I do want you, Ace.”

You feel your heart beating, loud and fast but you won’t back away. Not this time. Not when he believes it’s his lineage that scares you.

“I want you more than anyone else in this world.”

He blinks, his freckled cheeks growing pink. “Yeah? Is that right?” He clears his throat, trying his best to cool down. “But then… why do you keep backing away? Am I doing something wrong?”

You shake your head, not sure what to say so instead— you go to your feet, striding in front of him like you’re marching for battle, fist clenched and Ace pulls his brows.

“Babe?”

You see your own hand reaching towards his chest, pushing him to lean back as you plant a knee between his legs.

“—babe, uhhhhhh”

Ace—Firefist Ace, Second Division commander of the White-Beard pirates—is internally screaming right now. Face going pink to red and eyes forcing themselves to stay on your eyes. Holding his breath as your face inches closer.

Holy shit; you’re hot.

This man does not know if it would be polite to keep looking at your face, or down at your chest or your hand on his shoulder — or if he should look away in shame for all these thoughts popping up his head.

“I don’t have the right words for this, so let me show you instead Ace.” You say, your breath is soft on his face and it feels like he’s put himself on fire.

Show him? He’s getting the wrong idea entirely.

“H-hey, beautiful, I- er, uh, look we-we… haven’t even done anything like this… yet… uh.”

“You’re right. We haven’t.” You sigh, completely misunderstanding his fluster.

His hands are in the air, wafting about, unsure where to place them.

At your hips? Nah too forward. Maybe your back? Too awkward. The side of your thighs? Too impolite.

“Thats why I want to do this.” You say.

“Do…. This?”

“Yes.” You blink, your chest bristling and your stomach turning at this newfound contact.

In truth you rather jump off his lap and say: Goodbye Moby Dick, Hello afterlife! You feel weird, strange—odd and misplaced. But you want Ace, you want to hold him, touch him, kiss him.

And you don’t plan on giving up a normal, loving relationship with this man simply out of fear from a past long ago.

So you let yourself straddle on his lap, face hot and hands slightly trembling. You ignore the discomfort and you tilt your head, your courage gathering like a storm.

“Ace, I want you to know; I’m not mad at you. I don’t want you to not touch me. I just—I just want to take things slowly.”

You want to grab onto something, so to ground yourself, so to steady these feelings brewing up your heart.

Ace sees your courage, the way your face is determined, your voice firm and unwavering. he senses your need for comfort, for reassurance—for strength. And he gives you that. That and more.

He takes the hands placed on his chest, and slowly gives them a squeeze. You feel a shiver run down your arms and you clench your thighs against his knees.

“Slowly then.” He hums, carefully, softly, he places a peck on your knuckles. “We’ll take it as slow as you want. I’ll wait for you, I’ll always wait for you.”

You blink, tears forming.

Yes. Yes but of course he would.

How could you ever think to doubt him?

You feel your mouth moving on its own—you tell him how you feel and why it’s become like this. You tell him of a certain day, of a certain event and you feel yourself starting to sob. And when you do, he steers you into his chest. Strong, calloused hands placed softly against your back. Hands that promise you of safety, of security—of everything you’ve ever lacked.

When you come into a calm, you feel him plant his chin on top of your hair.

“I’m sorry,” he hums. “I’m so sorry.”

He is not saying sorry to pity you or to comfort you—no. He’s saying sorry that you have been forced endure it, to burden yourself with such strength he himself cannot measure to.

He holds you close, he holds you dear. And you lean in. It feels right, it feels safe.

“I’m here, and I’ll always be here.”

At that your chest squeezes and you move from his embrace to look at his face.

His eyes are on you, and they are soft, they are loving, they are kind.

He rubs your cheeks from tear stains and you press down a smile. You feel warm, you feel happy.

“Can you kiss me? Please?”

“You sure?”

“Yes, more than anything.”

And he hums. Tilting your chin, swiping your lips. His heart thumping loud and hard under your palm.

He inches closer, his heat radiates into you and when his lips meets yours it is a peck. Barely present. Faintly there. Your face starts burning and you lean in. Kissing him back.

It’s unpractised, it’s clumsy, it’s silly but it makes you giggle, it makes you smile. You start to feel needy and press yourself deeper into his lips, only stopping when both of you are out of breath.

His face is all boyish—his grin lopsided, his freckled cheeks round as his eyes glints with something that can’t be anything but stars in his gaze.

He looks at you like you’re something precious, like you’re the last flame in this sorry world and he’d do anything to keep you guarded, protected—he feels himself burning for you, hot and fiery. His arms pulling you in for an embrace, one that you don’t wish to pull away from.

Because you know, with him by your side—you will never have to flinch away.

Not from him, not anymore.

Summary: Ace will not treat you like you’re wounded but he will gesture for permission, his touches will be softer, lighter. He’ll move slowly for you, keep his eyes on you. When you kiss him, he will wait for you to press it deeper, harder before going further.

And when you ask him, “Don’t you find me difficult?” He will only answer, “no. Never.” Thats all he says before ruffling your hair up, and that is all that is needed to be said. You will grow sated, settled—his hand locked onto yours.

Red-hair Shanks

Red-hair Shanks. That man made you foam at your mouth. Made you squeal and fangirl. You loved him with all your heart.

Tall. Tanned. Strong.

Mature. Aloof, and passionate.

Sometimes you liked to sit up at night and giggle in your own little corner, wondering how you pulled him.

Even now with things established—he still made you shy, made you blush and scream into your pillow.

But as much as you loved him, wanted him—you couldn’t help the twisting knots in your stomach when he placed a casual hand on your thigh. Or the nausea riding up your chest when he skims over your waist.

For a one-handed man, he sure is touchy…

It was the one aspect of Shanks that made you more nervous than his focused gaze on you.

And despite trying your best to seem normal about it—Shanks sees you, observes you.

He does not force you into it, instead he only watches you more intensely now, eyes low and dangerous. Sipping his drink in silence as he watches you eat. Making you fret under his gaze.

He tries to catch every hidden puzzle of your heart, to see the makings of your apprehension, the doings of your wariness.

Shyness? No, it’s more than that.

Fear then? Close but not terror, not really.

An awful memory? Maybe—it made the most sense.

With that notion made, he waits for you to come to him. Waits for you to take things to next level—withdrawing his physical affection for you. Giving you space, giving you time.

So despite his own yearning for contact, he does not pull you into his lap anymore, does not get handsy even when he’s absolutely shitfaced.

He’s lazy and lousy, sure, but he’s a patient man—he can wait. Especially for you.

And you should feel happy that he respects that. You should feel sated, relieved.

But instead you fear he does not want you anymore, does not feel attraction towards you anymore.

It’s hypocritical, it’s stupid, it doesn’t make any sense. Yet you fear his loss of desire more than you fear touching him. Feeling and holding him.

You want him so much, your chest burns.

The crew was partying tonight (again) at the island’s local inn, and you watched as your boyfriend slung an arm around Beckman.

You watch how he does not hesitate slapping another’s shoulder. You watch as he laughs and jokes and plays with them.

And your chest squeezes.

You feel so childish. So stupid. So pathetic.

You weren’t jealous that he was friendly, that’s just Shanks. But you watch how easy it is for everyone else—and how easy it is for him to be comfortable with everyone, everyone except you.

You don’t know why you were so sensitive tonight but you felt like the odd one out. The one who cannot partake in casual hugs, in friendly games and aloof shoulder-slapping.

And as you kept watching your lover sway back and forth with the crew, whilst you sat alone watching everyone from afar—something in you cracks.

You felt misplaced.

You felt unwanted and unneeded.

And so, from the corner of Shanks’s eye, he sees you leave. Your expression blank.

Seeing Shanks being so casual with everyone else but have a distance with you, made you feel weird. Made you feel odd.

You know it’s not done maliciously—in fact it’s the opposite but you’re too much of a coward to take the step he wants you to make.

After all, he only cares.

You know that and yet…

Maybe Shanks doesn’t want to touch you anymore? Maybe you’ve grown undesirable—a bore. A dull colour. The thought of that makes you tear up.

Why is it so hard for you? It’s just touching, it’s just hugging and kissing.

You want it, don’t you?

If you wanted it so bad why couldn’t you just do it? You hated yourself for how difficult you were being.

You felt entirely dejected.

You and Shanks were sharing a room which you returned to.

Once you got out of the shower, crying your eyes out and feeling like such a loser—you sat at the edge of the bed.

You wanted to cry again but something trudges outside the room, and you hold the tears in.

Someone knocks on the door, “You in there?”

It’s Shanks.

Of course it is.

You press your lips, only opening your door an inch and sure enough; It’s him.

His frame fills the entire opening and he lets his fingers between the crack. Pushing it just wide enough to see you clearly.

“Is everything alright?” You force out, voice cracking. not at all in the mood to converse right now but he only gives you a soft smile.

“The boys are having fun, but when you left it wasn’t the same.”

Your heart tugs at that. Eyes sinking.

“As much as I love leaning over you, having a door between us does little for chatter. So… mind if I come in?”

This is his room for tonight as well and still, he cares to ask.

You hum, stepping aside.

When he enters, a scent of booze and cologne trails him across the room and you watch as he makes it to the balcony window. Letting the night breeze in.

The moon leaves a glint of pale light across the walls and he turns to glance over his shoulder, to look at you.

As he thought, there was something amiss with you tonight.

Your shape carries a quiet sadness, one that can be found in the way you do not meet his gaze or how your fingers fiddle with the hem of your sleeves.

He says your name, his voice low and raspy—and you manage to look at him.

“Why are you standing so far away?”

“No reason.”

Your chin falls low, eyes swollen from all the crying in the shower.

“Yeah?” He pushes himself from the window, striding across the room slowly. Each step heavy, and you back yourself into the wall.

Heart thudding from outside your ribs, your chest squeezing and twisting, and tears threatening to scatter.

His long frame looms over you, forcing you to press your back against the wall.

You feel trapped, caged.

“What’s the matter with you tonight, doll?” He says, his voice always grows so soft around you and you press your face into your hands.

Realising you cannot keep the tears from spilling.

Gods you feel so stupid. So childish.

What is there to say?

‘Sorry I feel jealous how you can be so casual with everyone else but forced to be distant with me because I have issues, whoops!’

You can’t say that! It sounds ridiculous! He’d laugh at you, make fun of you—would he not?

When you don’t answer and sob into your hands, his eyes narrows. His hand coming to reach for your face but thinks better of it and stops.

“Hey, look at me will you?”

You shake your head. “It’s so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you cry.” He leans down, just slightly. “You know I’m here for you, don’t you?”

You shudder, you hiccup, you feel snoot building up and you pull your hands away from your cheeks and his heart squeezes at the sight of your teary face.

“You’ll find me ridiculous.” You hiccup and he chuckles, just a little. “How could I? Why don’t you try me, hmm? I’ll have you known I’m a pretty good listener. Now… look at me will you?”

You feel his hand slowly lift to your chin, tilting your face up.

When he takes his sleeve and inches it near your face, you flinch away but he only hums. “Let me take care of you, ‘kay? Then I’ll be all ears.”

You hesitate at first… but you nod. Bracing yourself for the contact.

He wipes your nose, your cheeks and your eyes. “There. All pretty.”

You feel your knees growing weak—this man is going to be the death of you if he keeps praising you like this.

“So, will you tell me? If it’s too much, we can just go to sleep. I’ll keep you warm. What do you say?”

At that your heart comes undone.

And you come back into a sudden sob and Shanks blinks—then panics.

“H-hey did I say something wrong? I’m sorry, hey, don’t cry—“

He turns his head left and right. Trying to find a towel or a napkin, sweat dripping down his cheek but he turns his gaze back to you when his sleeve is being tugged.

“Shanks i feel like such a child.” You sob out, tugging him closer.

“What makes you say that—?”

“I’m so stupid, and childish and selfish- and- and-“

He takes you by the shoulders and you tense up. “Woah, woah! Okay, slow down. Start over for me, you don’t need to spill everything out in one go. Just take it one at a time.”

His hand on your shoulder is large, strong and firm. You want to brush them off but in this moment, all you truly want to feel is him.

Not the discomfort. Not the unease and guilt.

You want him. Your aloof and drunk of a boyfriend.

So your courage gathers, letting him witness you raw, naked, bare. The hidden parts of your mind comes into view, and this time you refuse to back away. You tug him closer, clutching onto him like he’s the only thing that makes sense in this world.

Your confessions comes out of you between tears and sobs, but you don’t relent. No. You tell him all of it—your insecurities, your fears and your needs.

And Shanks? He does not sigh or laugh or comment. He simply stands there. Hand on your shoulder growing fainter and lighter by the minute, but he does not pull away. No.

He lets it rest there. Letting you know he’s here. Watching, listening. When your sobs start to slow, and your thudding heart comes into rest—he only hums. Hunching down so his forehead ghosts right onto yours.

“You thought I’d find you childish? Dating a lousy man like me I thought that would be the least of your worries.” His forehead starts to press against you.

You hold in a whimper. “I’ve been watching you all this time, hoping to not toil you but it seems I’m no better than a blind man. I’m sorry.”

You look up to him then, his breath hot against your face.

“Sorry?”

“For making you feel undesirable.” He takes your hand, guides it towards his lips—watching your expression with a low, gentle gaze. He does not give your hand a kiss, instead they sit only a breath away. Giving it a soft squeeze by the wrist.

“Tell me how to make it up for you.”

His voice is a soft, husky whisper. As if he’s sharing a secret with you. You shudder from the usual fear—but your chest also bristles with warmth. With excitement.

“—kiss me.” You swallow, “I want you to kiss me.”

At that, he smiles. Kissing your hand. Soft lips above your knuckles.

“As my lady commands.”

Your heart is hammering. Thudding. Pounding—and you squeeze your eyes shut as he inches near your lips.

The kiss is quick at first—nothing more but a brush of lips. You tilt you face, asking for more and you hear him chuckle. Low and teasing.

The next kiss is deeper. It’s slow, it’s sloppy, it’s lazy. And when you dont flinch back, you feel him pressing you against the wall. His leg ushering between yours.

You moan into it—for the first time in a long, long time, you don’t feel the expected unease, the usual nausea, or the need to pull back. No.

You feel light, you feel greedy.

You push deeper into the kiss, and he only parts when your breaths are getting heavy and desperate.

He looks over you then.

Your cheeks flushed. Lips swollen. Lashes wet.

You see him grin at the state he has you in.

He leans closer to you again, one hand cupping your face as he gives you a kiss on the cheek… before making it to your neck and you yelp.

Hands on his broad shoulders, giving them a light push.

“S-Shanks!”

“Too much?” He hums, his breath vibrating across your blushing neck and you nod, frantically. Not trusting yourself to speak.

He drifts his face away and only gives you a sheepish smile. His thumb rubbing your cheek. “My bad then, I wanted to show you how much I wanted you… have I made myself believable?”

“Yeah… trust me you have.”

“Good.” He kisses your forehead this time. “Let’s go to bed; I’m willing to take the neck kissing another time.”

You stifle a smile at that.

Heart almost bursting.

He leads you both back to bed, a soft, faint hand on the small of your back. His touch still gentle—as if to tell you there’s no rush. No hurry. That he’s willing to take this as slow as you want, as you need.

And for once, you let yourself believe. The insecurities, the worries and the fear coming undone as he wraps you both under the blanket.

Your hand is placed onto his… with him here you feel safe. You feel warm.

You give it a squeeze, and he gives you one back. It’s silly, it’s playful, but to you it’s a promise. A promise of patience, of endurance and of love. One that he’s willing to keep, one that he’s willing to make.

And you too, keep that promise close. Smiling as you fade into sleep.

Summary: As days start to pass—you notice he lingers closer to you nowadays. Not touching, not intruding but present. As if to show you he still wants you near, still needs you close—and you feel yourself smiling more often now. You start to grow bolder, more comfortable and more willing. You don’t rush into it, no. You take your time, you let it bloom—and he only watches. Giving you praise and recognition for your efforts and trials. And one day you will realise you don’t flinch or pull yourself away, not with him. Not with Shanks.

Donquixote Rosinante "Corazon"

(Reader knows Corazon can speak, but lets him keep scribbling notes for the sake of his secret being kept. Just wanted to clear that up so it doesn’t get confusing!)

Gentle. Attentive and kind—everything his brother isn’t. Corazon is the type of guy to get flustered at you winking at him. Perhaps even nosebleed when you fly him a kiss.

And he did.

Bashfully so.

Mouth agape. Cigarette dropped. Coat burning. Ears turning red and inaudible sounds escaping the back of his throat.

You would laugh at the effect you had on this man. He was so cute, so unashamedly in love with you.

He was soft with you, kind to you.

Around him you felt light, you felt happy despite the circumstances the Family of the Donquixote pirates often found themselves in.

It has only been a few months since the two of you started dating, but nothing went past shoulders grazing, thighs nudging and perhaps when it got extra steamy—you’d feel him squeeze your hands.

Corazon wasn’t exactly a chatterbox, so when he sat extra close to you or grabbed your wrist just a little bit too tight; you endured it.

It was his way of communicating with you, his way of telling you ‘I’m here, don’t worry.’

For him, you could swallow the empty knots twisting down your stomach, you could pretend to not flinch or tense up at contact. And you were good at pretending—but you had your limits.

It happened at an inn; you were keeping watch whilst the rest of the Family went to settle some scores.

You were leaning over the balcony railing, breathing smoke into your hands as the winter breeze skims across your shoulders. Watching the townsfolk below.

You were often good at your assigned job.

You never once messed up since you joined the Family—but perhaps today you were too lost in thought, too relaxed at the sight of snow dangling down the mulling skies—that you don’t hear the door click open.

He sees you leaning over the railing, back faced and eyes set on the orange skies.

Corazon stood still for a second. Admiring the figure of your back, the shape of your shoulders, the curve of your waist.

Then it hit him. He should surprise you!

Yes! What a wonderful idea! He should surprise his lovely girl with a hug from behind!

He could totally imagine you laughing and smiling and hitting his shoulder playfully!

What a reasonable idea!

He snaps his fingers, and his Devil-fruit powers come into play. He approaches, carefully, steadily.

And when he knows he’s at the perfect distance to lunge at you—he releases his powers and pounces.

You scream. You arch. You flail.

Your elbow hits him in the face and stomach. You swear you hear him grunt when he crashes against the floor.

Your eye twitch when you see your boyfriend K.O’d on the floor.

“CORA?????”

You’re heaving, you’re panting—you’re lowering your battle stance.

He did not respond. He simply laid there. On his back. Questioning his existence. Wondering how a smaller woman like you manages to throw a punch like that.

You inch closer, trying to see if he’s still alive but you stop in your tracks when he sits up. Note already scribbled.

‘I wanted to surprise you.’

Your throat let out a squeaking sound.

Half in disbelief, half in anger.

You were good at pretending, good at enduring.

For Cora, you could swallow your unease down but right now? Right now you wanted to do nothing but scream.

“Surprise me?” You seethe, “What were you thinking? What part of me possibly made you think I’d find that even remotely funny!?”

You see him wry his lips and you click your tongue—your hands feeling the sides of your ribs. Where he had grabbed you.

It felt wrong, it felt weird.

You felt dirty; itchy.

Him touching you… it felt like betrayal in a way. He could not have possibly have known you don’t like being touched but still. It felt like he has stomped on you. Like he’s intruded on your space, on your trust, on your patience.

You see him lift up a note, but you’re not in the mood to listen so you wave it away. Turning your back at him.

“Leave. I don’t want to see you right now.”

For a moment—Corazon only stares at you.

He’s known there was something you have not told him, he’s not blind. He’s seen how you avoid his hands, how you pull away when he leans too close, how you don’t meet his gaze when his shoulder bumps against yours.

And now? It all seems to make sense. He should have known better—he shouldn’t have been so selfish.

His chin sinks, whether he likes it or not—he’s not that much different from his brother.

When he leaves the room, it feels like you can breathe again. Your shoulders slump, your chest releases and your knuckles soften.

You glance behind your shoulder, and you see the note he scribbled before you shut him out.

‘I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Please forgive me.’

The anger, the annoyance, the pent up frustrations from all the other times you’ve endured—melts away. Your heart breaks.

“Ah.”

You push your face into your hands. Groaning. Your head starting to ache. You felt like the biggest bitch in the whole Grand Line.

You thought showering would distract you. Or eating, or drinking or whatever that you do when you feel like drowning yourself.

But none of it worked.

You were pacing around your room in circles. Feet stomping. Face frowned. Nails bitten.

The hell do you tell him?

The hell was there to say?

The only reason you’ve kept quiet for so long was your worry of being too difficult—a drama-queen who can’t handle a bit of touching. You didn’t want to burden him, didn’t want to bother him.

You should apologise but you couldn’t find him anywhere even when the rest of the crew came back. Even Doffy didn’t know where he went.

You wanted to pull your hair out… or so you did until your door rapped with knocks. You see a note pushed under the gap.

‘It’s me. Can I see you? Please?’

Your chest bristles, slamming the door open in an instant. Your giant of a man stands there, half surprised at your sudden enthusiasm.

“C-Cora!” In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to hug him but you refrained.

“I’m sorry about last time, I was just so—“

He shakes his head, puts a finger across his lips. ‘Don’t say sorry.’

He lifts a bouquet of flowers into view—and it’s not just any flowers but your favourites. You see a note tagged by the side.

It’s an apology letter.

One where he takes the full blame. Your heart tugs.

You take the flowers, giving him your most gentle smile, “Cora… there’s something I want to tell you. Please come in.”

He blinks, nods, before doing as he’s told.

You both sit on your bed and you place the bouquet next to you.

For a stiff, silent moment, you two just stare. He was fiddling with his hands and you were tapping your feet together.

“So!” You break the silence with, clearing your throat and he looks to you. “About erm. About last time…”

How the hell should you drop the bomb?

First things first: let’s apologise.

“I’m sorry about yelling at you, and hitting you.” You turn to face him. Courage gathering as you fist the sheets. “But could we... Could we start all of this over?”

He pulls his brows and you chew your lips.

“I haven’t been honest with you, I don’t want to keep lying and pretending everything is fine when it’s not. That’s not what I want with you. So… I’m asking if we can start this over. I want us to be honest with each other!”

You reach out for his hand and slowly you place it on your cheek. You brace yourself for the contact but once you feel his skin onto yours—it’s not as bad as you thought it would be. “I want you Cora. I do. I just want to take it one at a time.”

And then—he snaps his fingers.

He says your name. Low, quiet, a husky sound.

Hearing his voice makes you flinch.

It’s not often he gets to speak to you, but when he does—it always manages to make you smile.

“Cora…”

“It’s okay, you don’t need to explain things to me. You don’t owe me your secrets.” His thumb rubs your cheek. “I shouldn’t have surprised you like that. It was selfish of me and I am sorry—“

“No!”

He blinks. “…no?”

“You’re not selfish.” You lean in, your forehead grazing his. His bangs tickling your brows.

Between the walls of silence, in the dim light of the bedroom—the windows outside displays the first snow descending down the skies.

You open your heart out to that man. You lay yourself before him, let him see your wounds. Let him bear witness to your falsehoods and pretense. You don’t stutter, you don’t sob, you don’t cling onto him. No. You say it with your chest, each and every single thing that has been burdening you, hurting you. You sit there, close to him. Knee touching his. His hand pressing onto yours.

You don’t flinch, you don’t tense. You simply sit there next to your boyfriend—warm, safe.

And Corazon’s gaze only softens, carrying a gentle light in them that is more than just fondness but reverence. He peels each layer back, sees you for what you are.

He does not poke, or push. He simply listens. Calm and steady. It makes you feel warm, makes you feel heard.

When you finish, you noticed you’ve been staring at his lips since the first confession. You open your mouth as if to say something but shut it closed again. Clearing your throat.

“Can I… kiss you?”

He chuckles, “Youre asking me that? It’s you I’m waiting for.” His voice teasing but he leans in. Giving you the go.

Slowly, carefully, like you’re approaching danger—you land your lips onto his.

He’s soft. He’s sweet. You feel him smile, and you do too.

You realise it then—there is no nausea riding up your throat, no tensed shoulders, no stiffened and clammy hands. No, instead it feels right. It feels good.

And when your chest is empty, your heart laid open, only then does he pull away. Reaching for the bouquet.

“Cora… don’t you think I’m difficult?”

He plucks a bloom from its stem, and slide the flower into your hair. He grins at you, all goofy and cheesy. “No. Not you. Not ever.”

The night was long but you spent it with him. Smiling, giggling, and murmuring into sleep. A winter night of pure, sweet bliss.

Summary: Your kiss was shared under the first snow. Back then, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. His hands were gentle. You outlined them, comparing his to yours. They were large, they were soft. They were his. You remember the scent of his embrace, the warmth of his skin. A day you will never forget, even now as you find him bleeding out across the snow. Red melting into pale white, his body already cold.

That flower he gave you? It’s old and withered now, but you still keep it. Still in hopes you will see him one day, and maybe you will. And every year when the last snow falls, you will remember it in its purest form. A blissful memory, a gentle dream. You bury that winter night into your heart. Into your Corazon.

Buggy the Clown

Buggy the Genius, they call him.

Loud, scheming and mischievous.

His crew worshipped the ground he walked on, little did they know he was getting bullied in his own tent by the Marine-hunter and the Ex-Warlord.

They call him stupid. You call him genius.

Others mutters that he’s a fraud. You yell out that he’s got potential.

And when his crew wasn’t looking? He kissed the ground you walked on. Worshipped the air you breathed.

When the swordsman and the desert lizard wasnt around—he gave all his attention to you and solely you.

Yes. that’s your boyfriend all right.

A foolish, cowardly man but one that you adore with all your heart. He makes you laugh after all. He praises you, dotes on you.

You wouldn’t trade him for the whole world.

But he was… indeed… overbearing when it comes to loving you. You enjoyed the grand gifts, the extravagant dates and the colourful love letters—but he sure was clingy…

It was a habit that came to you long before you had the idea of joining the pirate life.

It was a long time ago, a memory that you rather wish to forget. But a memory is just that—it remains. It persists. It hurts even when you grow older, wiser, stronger. When something gets stained, it still leaves a mark. No matter how much you scrub your skin till you’re sore; it’s still there. Haunting you, reminding you.

At first you had only swallowed it down, endured it, persisted it. And when he noticed the way your shoulders were rigid, and your hands were clutched—you pretended it was nothing. Waved it off. Excused it away.

You were dating for months now so you thought it would be fine to let him kiss you. Just once. it was small. Quick. One that left him grinning like a fool and made you feel sick to your stomach.

And ever since, Buggy has grown persistent on kissing you again. His attempts were often interrupted, you laughed when confronted, waved away when encountered.

And one day—he sat you down for a romantic dinner. Rose petals, wine and fine dining. All in your favourites. But before starting, he leaned in for a kiss, trying his absolute best to seem romantic and nonchalant about it but you moved your cheek away.

“Buggy! Someone is ringing the Den-Den!”

And indeed, the Den-Den snail was ringing but your boyfriend only gave you a brow. Not even sparing it a glance.

You itch your cheek.

How many times have you avoided his kisses now? One hundred and six? Or was it one hundred and four? You’ve lost count at this point.

He blinks at you, and as stupid as your clown was, he wasn’t that stupid.

You were nervous, you were wary. It could be found in the way your brows were pulled or the way you could not look him in the eye.

You felt kind of bad, he was gathering up so much of his courage to kiss you but it can’t be helped can it?

“Buggy, what if it’s Mister Mihawk? Or worse… Sir Crocodile—“

“Are you… mad at me?” He cuts you off and you hold your breath.

“What?”

“You’ve been avoiding one hundred and seven of my kisses. This cannot be a coincidence.” His eye was twitching now, voice cracking, “Did I do something to upset you, my love?” He suddenly comes to grab your hands and you flinch.

You look at him, then his hands, and then him again. He’s teary eyed. “My love, my sweet, my gem, what have I done wrong? Please tell me.”

You try to smile, a bit awkwardly.

“No, nono you don’t have to worry Buggy, you haven’t done anything wrong I’ve just been… er… I’ve just felt tired lately that’s all.”

“Tired?” He looks you over then, tugging you closer. “Have you been feeling unwell? Has someone hurt you? Wait here let me call for the doctor—“

It is only when his tugging becomes too needy, too firm, too obnoxious that you hurl away.

“I’m just tired. It’s nothing, really. I’m fine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! You’re clearly upset over something and that you feel tired! How can that be ‘fine’? Let’s at least let a doc—“

“I said, I’m fine. Please just leave it.” Your voice becomes low, quiet. Eyes adverting but Buggy only leans in a bit closer. Invading your space.

“You may neglect your health but as your doting, flashy lover I cannot do that, just stay put and I’ll—“ his hand makes it to yours again and you flinch away.

Perhaps it’s the invasion of space, or the overstimulation from touching or the fact that the Den-Den still rings, but you snap.

“What part of ‘I’m fine’ don’t you understand?!” Your voice becomes mean. Sharp. You go to stand on your feet, cutlery rattling.

“I don’t want to talk about this here, and clearly you’re not listening to what I say. Answer the Den-Den already and go. I don’t want to see you right now.”

His hand reaches for you but you slap it away. He looks absolutely destroyed, even his round red nose deflates.

“My love, are you sure I didn’t do anything—“

“I said just go!”

He holds his tongue, eyes pleading with you but he won’t push it. You don’t look him in the eye and he rises from his seat.

“Let’s talk about this later, okay?”

You can’t even bring yourself to acknowledge him.

He sighs, taking the Den-Den snail, and leaves. And it feels like you can breathe again.

You hear him answer and shout down the halls but you don’t look back.

When you returned to your room—you felt like melted ice cream who doesn’t deserve to be put on a cone.

You felt like such a bitch. The biggest and worst one there is.

Who the hell snaps at their boyfriend for worrying over them? And who the hell slaps their hand away when they only mean well?!

A stupid, selfish, mean, idiotic jerk that’s who! You were rolling across your bed, throwing plushies in the air—watching them bounce off the tent wall.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to slap yourself for being so stupid!

You’re so lost in self hatred you don’t notice him coming in. “Er.. my love?”

You snap yourself up.

“Buggy?!”

“Sorry, I knocked and called your name but you didn’t answer so I got worried… mind if I come in?”

You blink and then you blush in embarrassment.

“Yes! Of course! Sit!” You patted on the bed.

For a moment, you two were just staring at the colourful walls together. You try your best keeping a straight face.

“So—“ you both started, and you lock gazes.

“You—“ you both said again.

“I—“

You blushed, adverting your gaze.

“You go first.” He rubs his neck and you shake your head.

“No you first, I insist.”

“…right. well. Ahem.”

“Did… you not want me to kiss you?” He says, quite blunt and you snap your gaze to him.

“I was just thinking, you never really want to hold hands, or kiss or even touch in general. As if it was the last thing you wanted on the agenda.”

You chew the inside of your lip—but of course he knows.

He’s silly, a spineless dork and a foolish man but he sees you. Knows you.

“I’m sorry if that is the case, I do not want to make you feel uneasy, you know that don’t you!?”

You hum. Finding a ghost of a smile flittering across your face.

“As your extraordinary, and genius lover, it’s my job to—“

“Buggy…”

“Yes, my love?” He answers immediately with his full, rapid attention.

You inch closer to where he’s seated.

You want to do right by him.

you want to kiss him, feel him, touch him. And now you’re more determined than ever to show him that.

He only blinks at you dumbfounded even when you lean closer.

Eyes tender, your chest warm.

“It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you but… let me show you instead.”

“Show?” He echoes and it’s only when you lean in that he starts to get the gist of it.

“W-w-woah! Okay- lady, wait! I thought, I thought you didn’t want to!?” He flails his hands about but you push them away.

“No I do. I just,” you feel suddenly nervous, straightening your hair out. “Can we pretend it’s our first time? When you kissed me last time… I didn’t like it.” Your voice cracks.

And strangely, tears were spilling out of you. One droplet after another, soaking the sheets, drip by drip.

Your boyfriend gapes for a second—seeing you cry like this, it is not at all what he wants for you. He does not wish to see you upset, you’re supposed to be happy, to be laughing and smiling like you always do.

He goes to grab your hands but thinks better of it. Groaning to himself as he pulls himself back in.

“My love why are you crying? Look, please forgive me about last time, it was wrong of me. Please tell me what to do to make up for it! I’ll do anything!”

You try and wipe your tears away, not sure why you’re crying. It’s not like you were sad or in pain. But you do know you needed to let this out, and you know, you need to tell him each and every single thing. Which you do.

At first you are hesitant, you stutter, you mewl but you feel the tip of his fingers touch yours. Just barely, just faintly. As if to tell you he’s here. Close. Present.

You feel yourself unravelling under him. Each confession a little bit easier than the last, each word a given clue to a treasure map—one he’s putting to pieces, bit by bit.

When your sobs come into a halt, he performs a magic trick. Pulling out a colourful napkin from his ear.

You burst out a giggle, and he smiles right back at you when he wipes your face from snoot and tears.

A smile really does suit you the most.

And when you come into a calm, he does not tease or jest or joke. Not at all. His thumb rubs circles on your knuckles. And you don’t feel shivers run up your arm, don’t feel the need to pull away.

He offers you his hand and you give it a stare.

“Here. We can take it slow. Like a dance. One step at a time.”

His grin is stupid, it’s goofy and silly but it makes you bite down a glee. Your hand lands in his, his fingers interlacing with yours.

You two sit like that for awhile, talking, chattering. And before you know it, you never realised how close you sat with him.

Knee bumping against one another, thighs pressing and your feet entangled with his.

And when you notice, it doesn’t feel weird. It feels natural, it feels right.

He says your name, snapping you out of your daze.

“It’s getting late, let’s go to bed. You must be spent dealing with intellectual genial discussions with your handsome, flashy boyfriend.” He rubs his chin and you snort.

Before he gets the chance to get all flustered, you lean in close—quick and fast, landing a kiss on his cheek.

“Eh?” He blinks. And then it hits him.

He lets out the longest squeak.

High and baffling.

Face gradually growing redder and redder.

Hand landing to where you pecked him.

“You kissed me!” He says it like it’s a prize, and you see him exploding into tiny pieces of himself. Flying circles across you. “She kissed me!!”

Steam coming out his cheeks and you laugh, you laugh so much your stomach hurts.

It’s true. Buggy is truly a stupid, foolish man but one that you adore, with all of your heart. You wouldn’t trade him for the world.

And you’re not the better fool for it.

Summary: Buggy is still a lovesick fool for you, one who still spoils you with extravagant gifts and colourful dates but he does not prod you. Does not stress or overwhelm you. He lets you take your time, in your own pace, by your own making. And when you’re with him, you forget all your worries. Your haunted memories and stained skin. With him you can laugh, you can giggle—you can sit there all pretty and just… smile. That is enough for him.

Rob Lucci

As a lover Rob Lucci was everything you could dream of. He wasn’t your average fairytale Prince or cocky villain with too much money—no. He was attentive, observant and perceptive. Affection draped in silence and shadow.

He brought food to the table, ensured housing and established your needs and money. Not because he was necessarily a traditional man but because it brought you comfort. Rob doesn’t uphold expectations, he just does them.

He won’t smother you in kisses, drown you in adoration and love. He’s rational, emotionally distant but he will be there in the most practical ways.

You didn’t question his fondness for you—for in the end; you’ve seen what lies beyond his cold demeanour and sharp silence.

Small subtle things that did not align with the reputation he carried—a closet beside his, displaying the wide collection of coats for Hattori, or during your first date he bought you a dress that suspiciously matched with his suit, or everytime you went out to dinner with him you never had to refill your own water or hold your own doors. He matched your pace and let you hold his arm during walks.

But before being your lover; Rob Lucci was first and is one of Cipher Pol’s most promising intelligence agents and the perfect employee in the profession of assassinations.

He’s ruthless.

He separates the world in categories. He documents people by numbers, statistics and attributes. His job is not a mere profession—to him, it’s a place of relief, of sanctuary. There he gets to stalk, kill and murder. And gets paid for it.

In other words, Rob Lucci surrounds himself in violence—violence dressed in tailored suits, legal documents and organised pursuits. To him violence is just another passing cloud, murder just another passionate Monday’s work.

He inflicts it, and he does so with zero hesitation.

Pleasure disguised in professionalism.

That part about him—you understood. When you fell in love with him, you understood what kind of man you’ve entangled yourself with.

And yet—it gnawed at you.

You were never the most affectionate kind when it came to physical acts and neither was he, at least in public, (which you thanked the universe for) you already struggled so much with just accepting a hug.

You’ve always been more wary with physical intimacy. The sudden touches made you queasy, the slow caresses sent you shivers that weren’t of pleasure. When a friend would offer you an embrace you’d tense, not knowing where to place your hands, and this made its way into your relationship with your boyfriend.

Rob sees you—watches and observes. He knows you prefer to sit with your own space and how you steer his hands away when leaning in for a touch. And yet he did not notice everything.

Rob wasn’t an overly affectionate lover, perhaps in private when you two lounged onto the couch together, he’d skim your calf or caress your wrist. Nothing pressing, nothing overwhelming. But still it made you shudder. Made you flinch.

You avoided it when you could. Not because you didn’t trust him, not because you didn’t like his touch but because it made you sick in the stomach. You haven’t had the best of experiences with it.

He notes that and as time passes, you realise he does not touch you without you initiating.

He never asks, never pry for answers. He lets you have your distance—but Rob cannot put his finger on it. Not truly. Is it shyness? Just timidity? But if so, why do you flinch his way? Why do you guide his hands from your shape and figure? Is it truly just that? Just shyness? He knits his brows just thinking about it. Surely it cannot be the case.

You thought it would pass, hopefully this wouldn’t be forever but as time went on the discomfort made its way towards your trust. Festering it. Corrupting it.

You knew he would never use his strength against you—but in some moments you question that silent promise.

When he leans in, hand stroking a lock of hair away from your cheek, you sense how easy it would be for him to just tear your face open. Or in the shower when he scrubs your back you can’t help but flinch and note how simple it would be for him to rip your spine and claw you open.

You gave him a look over the shoulder that time in the shower—his gaze as usual was focused, dark and silent. And the thought of it slipped into your mind—he could, no, he would kill you, like he does with all the other assigned assassinations if the Government so demanded it. And you’d be left defenceless.

Your look was telling and his eyes narrows at you. The circling motion of scrubbing your back comes to a halt.

“What are you thinking about?”

You parted your lips, for the first time since you’ve started dating your brooding, stoic boyfriend—you see him in a light that cast fear into your heart, into your body.

“Nothing.” You hummed, and you did in fact believe it to be nothing. Just a passing thought, just an intrusive feeling.

It will pass, like it always does.

Time flows ever onwards and the fear starts to twist its way into more than just thoughts.

His steps are always silent, a habit made of training and only now do you start to note you would never see the kill coming. Or when he leans down, only now do you note how his frame is much larger, taller than you. And how he could use it against you.

So when days start to blur—the fear that you once kept hidden makes its way into sudden flinches and tensed up shoulders. And he notes the drastic changes.

The time you couldn’t reach the plates by the cabinets—tiptoeing and pressing your lips tightly shut trying your best to bring them down—only to freeze up at the sudden sight of his arm above your head, no sound, no words as he grabs the plates for you.

“T-thanks.” You try a smile and something in his gaze shifts. As if he notes the way your shoulders are rigid, and your cheeks are pale blue.

Another time when you were home alone—not knowing when your boyfriend would be back from work—you were getting ready for bed. Splashing your face with water by the bathroom sink, humming as you reached for a towel. Eyes skimming over the mirror only to flinch at the sudden sight of your boyfriend, all white suit and crossed arms, leaning on the door frame.

Watching, observing.

How long was he there for?

You twirl around—heart hammering and fingers running cold.

“Rob.” You huff out, suddenly out of breath, “When did you get home?”

Something in his expression tightens, as if trying to figure out a scattered puzzle.

“You don’t hold eye contact with me anymore.” He says quite bluntly, not as an answer to the puzzle but an observation. His voice steady, low—focused.

“And when our hands brush, you don’t linger, instead you snap away.”

He unfolds his arms and strides over. Your back hits the edge of the sink. His heels click for each step, his pace is slow, precise and targeted as if prowling for a kill.

“You’ve been fidgety lately, your shoulders are more tense and whenever I’m near, you freeze in place.”

Now he was only an arms length from you, and his hand reaches for your throat. His movements sharp and swift.

You flinch, chin lowered and gaze shut closed. Fingers clutching into the marble sink.

His hand stops. Fingers mere inches away from your… cheek.

Not your neck, not your throat.

But cheek.

Rob’s eyes narrows, brows coming into a frown and lip tightening—the puzzle coming into place.

“Are you afraid of me?”

When he says it, you catch your breath. Eyes widening. His voice, so usually monotone and kept level-headed was now tense, like a bowstring pulled into taut—friction threatening to shatter.

When you don’t answer him, his hand falls. Returning to his pockets. “… I see.”

Teeth grinding, knuckles turning white.

Your sudden fear of him—disappoints him in ways that feel like betrayal. He does not comfort you, does not even bother to question you, he just turns to leave.

You panic, catching him by the sleeve.

“Rob!” You clutch your hold on him. “I’m sorry, I just—I’m not afraid of you. Not like that.” You hurry the apology out, realising you’ve trampled on his trust and affection for you.

“Oh?” He turns, something dark passes his gaze and like a striking blade he raises his hand at you—one finger to pierce through your throat—halting when it lands only an inch away from your skin.

Of course you would freeze, of course you would back away. Who wouldn’t? …

It only reaffirms your betrayal.

“Not afraid of me, huh.” Is all he says, cold, sharp, curt. He leaves, not once looking back.

You lay in bed, nuzzled between pillows as you clutch to your chest but there is no warmth to grasp here. For his side of the bed is empty.

You wish you could hear his breathing, you wish to see his back facing you and you only had to reach a hand out to hold him. Instead you lay there, chest tight and thighs clenched.

He hasn’t returned for hours.

You sit up, shaking your head. Slapping your cheeks.

No more self pity; it’s time to retrieve your “all-business-no-games” boyfriend.

You tiptoe your way out of bed.

You see Hattori perched by his usual spot in the living room. All fluff and fat, “Have you seen Rob?” You ask him and the pigeon gives you a look saying it knows you messed up.

Hattori only coos at you with judgement and you frown. “No more extra snacks from me.”

You saunter across the house in the dead of the night—only to find him outside the balcony window. Leaning against the stone railing, whiskey in hand as he looks over the night sky.

“Rob?” You say his name softly, hands clutched to your chest. The night air is cool, frisky. You shudder as you walk closer.

He does not turn to look at you.

You realise it then—your fear a betrayal in your trust in him.

He knows he can use his strength against you, he knows he can snap your neck at any given chance and he knows when he kisses you how vulnerable you truly are around him. And he knows, you trust him enough to not do so—or so he thought.

Rob Lucci is a killer, a murderer and a soldier. He follows his orders—he’s punctual, he’s structured. But he chose that job not out of mere profit but for the thrill of the hunt. And… he chose you for you saw something beyond that. Something more than just a killer machine, something more than just blood and violence.

You’ve witnessed his fondness disguised in sharp silence, seen the tenderness hidden behind his indifference and callousness.

With you—he could be domestic, tender in his own right. With you, he could be human.

And in return you’ve trampled on that silent promise. You’ve stomped on his trust, on his commitment, on his one redeeming quality solely reserved for you and you alone.

You reach out, his back still facing you, arms wishing to hold him, to show him you want to be there.

Your heart is hammering, your legs running weak and yet you can’t bring yourself to do it. Not because you fear him, it was never that, not truly.

You’ve always been wary towards touch, always slinked past it when you could. Your fear of him was just an excuse wasn’t it? A matter you know runs deeper than just trust.

You take a deep breath, stomach churning and the only way you can think of to ground yourself is holding onto him. Face pressed into spine.

This desperation, this fear of abandonment feels unfamiliar, and yet there is nothing else in the world you want more than this.

He does not push you away, or acknowledge your presence—all he does is simply sip on his drink.

“I’m sorry.” You say, “It was wrong of me, I know. For the past few days, I had some bad thoughts, thoughts about you hurting me. They came on their own, and I grew to fear them. Not you, not really.”

You feel tears glazing your vision, so you dig your face deeper into his back.

You two stay like that for awhile.

Rob, for a moment consider you pathetic, weak, unsightly. But when he senses something more between your words, only then does he turn.

He watches you, observes you like he always has. Sullen, anxious—if not afraid. But not at him, he knows, he sees.

He lets out a heavy sigh, your face hangs low, your sobs turn into hiccups you so desperately try to quieten.

“Look at me.” He commands and you do, all snoot and flushed cheeks. His brows knits at the sight of you. Something in him lilts.

“You think I will hurt you?”

“No. I don’t. But…”

“But?”

There is a softness in his voice, not gentle, not kind or warm but his version of tender. Restrained. Measured. Levelled. As if even now, he notes your distaste for bitterness, your need for comfort—and he gives you that, in his own silent way, he’s comforting you. Reassuring you.

It makes you crumble into pieces.

You tell him it’s not only him—but something from your past. You tell him of a certain day, of a certain event. You tell him of a fear long buried in your mind, a fear that has made its way into present day.

Your confessions spill out of your mouth like prayers, your words tied together with mewls, hands clutching his shirt as if in fear he’d frown at you. Click his tongue at you. Leave and abandon someone as weak as you.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he wipes your tears away with his thumb. Long black hair spilling over your frame, leaning in slightly—but stops mid track as if waiting for permission. You hiccup, and press your forehead against his.

“Such foolishness.”

The hand on your back loosens, drifting into a caress—his posture cold, poised and kept. His heat radiating into yours. He smells of something refined, like cologne and expensive oils.

“That it took you so long to tell me makes me wonder what more you are hiding.”

“Rob…”

His eyelids lowers, his lips grazes your brow, down to your cheek. “Do you believe I won’t nurture you? Do you believe you can’t trust me?” He says, voice husky. “I won’t ask you for it. Not for this.”

Rob takes in the scent of you, something primal beats within his senses. The need to nurture you, the urge to protect you increases for each passing score.

“Your answer, give me it.”

The words are curt, almost demanding but you hear what he truly means—will you trust me? Confide in me?

In his eyes, Rob does not see weakness but anguish. And when he chose to bind himself with you, when he fell for your charms and wit, he knew he would have to take care of what’s his. And his alone.

And you see it now.

You smile, nodding. “I believe you.”

You two make it back to bed. Rob is not a physical lover. He may hold you in private, kiss you in alleyways and perhaps, if you are a bit more blue that day, he’d allow embraces in bed if that’s what you so wish.

But this time, when you’re both tucked in bed, he gives you a look, a soft one.

“Your hand.” He offers his own, waiting for yours. His tone is not demanding, or imposing, he simply just offers. For you, he’s willing to wait.

Slowly, carefully, you slither your fingers into his. His hand is rough, large and firm. When you plant yours onto his, his thumb circles your knuckle, waiting for you to intertwine, to bind your hands together.

You outline his fingers, feel the coarse exterior of his palm, caress the faded callouses from training long gone. A shiver makes it down your wrists—the touch tickling, and you stifle a smile. And only then, when your cheeks become round, and your eyes glint with something like adoration, does he clasp his fingers with yours.

Strong hands promising safety, of security.

Only then do you realise—how deep his love truly runs for you. And when sleep beckons, you will find yourself never doubting him ever again.

Summary: You note it when days turn into weeks, and soon into months, that Rob no longer sneaks up on you. The habit of keeping his steps silent and light, seems to suspiciously end whenever he’s within your presence. His movements are no longer swift, sharp or striking. They’re slow, smooth, and deliberate. And when he touches you, they’re measured, aware. And they linger, exploring which parts of you jitters and frets. Noting down what holds you in place and what provokes the sudden flinches. He categories, he documents and he watches. He learns you in ways that does not require language but patient observation.

And slowly, surely—his devotion seals your heart with his. You grow sated, settled and secure. And like in everything, from housing and security; Rob ensured of that.

Sir Crocodile

A man of finer manners and higher ambitions—Crocodile is a patient man. He waits, he asserts, he calculates. He ensures security, he ensures victory. He’ll cheat his way through it of course but he’ll cheat with class; mapped out plans and constructed executions. Never rash, never unrefined.

When you fell inlove with him you knew what kind of man he was outside the relationship. Cruel, unforgiving and distrustful. But it’s easy to forget when you’re his lover—after all, he spoils you rotten.

You want something? You’ll get it in pristine condition and in the highest quality. You need something? You’ll only need to blink and It’ll be served on a golden platter. And when he speaks to you, his tone is patient, his choice of words less harsh and if you ask him to repeat he’ll only take a puff of his cigar and speak more slowly.

You were his lady after all.

Being his lover was great—it relieved you of things you never dared to dream for. A quiet peaceful home, a stable(if not overflowing) source of income, along with a cat you usually order matching dresses with.

You couldn’t ask for anything more and you’d do anything to keep your boyfriend happy.

Brining him his lunchboxes, warming his bath, and straightening his coats and scarfs… anything but returning the embrace, relax into his touch.

At first—you had tried to elude him with your charms, not out of distrust but out of fear. The tingling sensation of skin meeting skin made your shoulder blades tense, your stomach coming into aching knots and your lips pressing tight.

It’s not that you hated his touches, but that you questioned them.

Why is he touching your cheek? Why does his hands grope you like that? And why does your stomach churn for each kiss?

Does he need to bring his arm around your waist so tightly? Does he want something from you? Is it a bargain, a transaction?

You often assumed the worst, and often, you’d find yourself with nausea boiling down your throat.

Can he not at least ask beforehand?

You told yourself you needed time, that this would surely come to a close… and yet when you looked at him after he placed a peck on your cheek, your hands clutched and your face stiffened. You would find his eyes darkening with questions.

He never asked. Never imposed.

But he suspected something, enough to pull his brows together and dig his molars into his cigar. Trying to find something between your rigid expression, beneath your stiffened shoulders and between your fingers clenched.

It’s not that you feared him but instincts were always a master of survivability and one time, it took the lead far too eagerly.

You were just dropping off his bento box at his office. A quick little venture to Buggy’s tacky little tent, a sweet gesture you came quick to note his pleasure for.

At this time of the day your boyfriend would still orchestrate war crimes with his other peers two halls away, and you’d sneak the flower patterned bento on his desk before skedaddling back home, never lingering too long.

That was of course, what you thought would happen today as well.

But instead you find your very cold, calculating and ruthless boyfriend sprawled across the sofa. An arm slung over his eyes, neck coming into an arch as his head sinks on top the armrest.

His tie undone, his cigar still softly lit, ashes cindering down the marble floor and a glass of aged brandy sitting untouched by the coffee table. Ice melting.

“Darling?” You say, still standing at the entrance of the room.

He remains unresponsive.

You huff out a sigh, that clown is killing him.

You tiptoe your way in, careful to not wake him up. You know how hard he works and the little rest inbetween is well deserved of him, you don’t wish to deprave him of that.

You place the lunchbox by the desk; Now you should be all ready to head back and yet when you glance to where your boyfriend is, your lips purse.

He looks so spent.

And also kind of cute, but you know how hard he works. You should do something for him, a small sweet gesture to remind your love to him!

You’ll just swoop the ash! And once done…

You’ll just fix his tie up! And after that you’ll…

You’ll feel him stir.

Before you can even finish his name, his frame becomes a shadow, movement too sudden, too fast and shredding.

Your lover’s face becomes a haunting shade, viscous, evil - animal like.

His grip sharp and cruel as it wrings around your forearm like claws and you lose your breath.

He will strike you, here and now.

You see it, you sense it, you feel it.

It is only when you let out a yelp, knees buckling, does his hold on you soften.

He says your name, confused, perplexed.

“Oh, it’s only you.” He strokes his hair back, sighing. “Apologies love, I thought you were someone—“ His words come into a halt as he sees the expression on your face.

Stiff, cold, drained of color.

Your mouth opens as if to speak but you cannot form any words.

For a moment you relived a haunting, and when your lover reaches for your face you flinch away. Slapping the hand that only meant you well.

You don’t see him anymore, your eyes move past him. Your blood has run cold, your mind coming into a spiral.

You rush up, hastily.

Leaving. Not once looking back.

When you finally got home, you slammed the door shut. Clicked it closed.

You made it to the shower, mind blank and unbecoming. You don’t know how long you’re in there for. How long you let the hot, burning water boil down your skin till it crinkles and reddens. You don’t really care either. You just want to burn the feeling away—the touches, the marking of contacts.

You feel disgusted, you feel dirty but most of all you feel angry. It shouldn’t be such a difficult thing and yet here you are, scrubbing your arms till you feel numb. How pathetic.

Perhaps it is nighttime, perhaps no time at all has passed, but you hear the front door click.

The shower stream quickens, and the bathroom door creaks open.

You know who it is, of course you do.

“I’m coming in.” His presence filled the room before entering, his frame large and when he slides the shower curtains away, he will find you sitting with your knees curled close to your chest.

Cheeks flushed, eyes swollen.

He does not say anything, his eyes only narrows, scanning over your figure as he turns the water off.

He sighs, almost like a rumble as he sits down onto the edge of the bathtub. You feel ashamed, humiliated from before.

You rub your eyes, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you saying sorry about?”

“For just leaving like that.”

He hums, and you feel his eyes on you even with your chin low.

“There’s something more you’re not telling me, what is it that you’re hiding?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Nothing huh?” He notes the way you chew down your lower lip.

“Then,” his hand reaches for your face only to stop mid track when you move your cheek away. Shoulders tense, chin low.

“Do I scare you?” his voice rasps and only then do you find courage to look at him. “No, no never.”

“Then why do you back away like a frightened animal?”

Your eyes widen, not sure what to say.

Because it makes you queasy? Because you fear his intentions? But why? Why would you? He’s not the reason you’re wary, not the reason you flinch away. And yet…

Slowly, carefully, you take his large hand in yours. They’re so small compared to his; his fingers are long, rough and hard. A worker’s hands. One that tells the stories of the many he’s inflicted pain and violence onto. Would he do the same to you?

You press your lips shut, of course he wouldn’t. You know that better than anyone else.

“I’ve not been honest with you, I should have confided in you sooner instead of hiding away like some coward. But I,” you caress his fingers, skimming the curve of his palms as you try and find the words.

You tell him all of it. Each and every single thing, you tell him when it started and why it persists even now.

You ask him to start all of this over. The kisses, the hand holding, the caresses. Not because you don’t want them, but that it frightens you. It frightens you so much it makes your stomach drop.

Your heart starts to hammer, fear making its way into your speech in stutters and your vision blurs.

But he does not demean you, he does not even snap his hand away. Instead, slowly, carefully, his fingers curl and intertwine with yours. You catch his gaze with yours.

“Do you think I’m weak? Foolish?”

He huffs, cigar sinking.

“Weak? No. Foolish? Yes.” He leans in, slowly, “Foolish for trying to find any comfort in a wretched man such as I. But I won’t do wrong by you, if this is what you want, what you need. Then so be it. My lady gets everything that she wants, doesn’t she?”

You bite down a smile, “anything?” You guide his hand to your face, placing his large palm onto your cheek. It’s warm, it’s rough, it’s his.

“Anything.”

When you are carried back to bed, you buried your face into his chest. Nestled safely in his arms.

Sir Crocodile will tuck you in like a parent would to their most beloved child. He’ll sit down with you, filling the room with quiet chatter as you drift off into sleep.

Your hand still holding his.

Summary: As the days go on, he will gesture permission before laying his hand onto yours. His touches will be more gentle, subtle, and slower in movements. He would wait for you to come with the embraces, with the kisses. You note weeks has started to pass since he ever initiated first for a kiss. It happened on one sunny Tuesday, months after your little talk, you were viewing the sunset together by the balcony.

You were beautiful that day, more than usually. Your skin was glowing and your smile was brighter. And he couldn’t help but lean in. Carefully, methodically. The soft tender gaze in his eyes spoke for themselves as he inched in, as if you were something dangerous—as if he had to preserve each and every move of yours before being lured in and forever trapped.

When his lips were a mere breath away from yours, he halted. Crocodile, ex-warlord and war criminal—hesitated. And the words that left his mouth were of a voice so low, so tender and careful you never knew he could make such a sound.

“Will you let me?”

You pressed down a giggle, lips pulling into a smile. “Yes.”

And that was all he needed. His kiss was soft, almost a hesitant at first, before becoming claiming, raw, intimate. Only stopping once out of breath. And as time start to pass, you realise the instincts begin to fade. You don’t stiffen under his touch anymore, you don’t feel nausea building at his lips onto you anymore. And sure enough, you even start to forget how to flinch away.

Trafalgar D. Water Law

Law was precise, knowledgeable and focused. So when you became his—you didn’t expect him to be so inexperienced. So clumsy in his actions.

Of course you knew he wasn’t the type of man to fool around and write out heartfelt confessions by letters but that didn’t mean you expected him to be so… awkward.

Not that you minded (of course).

You weren’t exactly the golden exemplary prototype for physical affection—in fact you were glad he sucked at it. You didn’t have to avoid his touches as they were rare enough and when he did, you could endure it.

It was a habit that came to your youth long before you ever thought of becoming pirate. A memory that left you stained till present day. You wanted to be held, you wanted to be kissed—and yet you rejected it like water does oil. It couldn’t be helped could it? When something breaks, it cannot be fully restored. The cracks still glints, the damage still remains done.

No matter how much you withstood it, no matter how much exposure or trials you went through to stomach it; it all ended in failure.

The long strokes against your thigh made you nauseous, long hugs and public display of affection made you rigid and uncomfortable—skin onto skin reminding you of it, the haunting memory that plagues you even now. You’ve always been good at hiding it, never flinching without provocation but lately Law has grown bolder and bolder in his making.

You cannot fault him, it’s been weeks of dating and you two still haven’t really proceeded anything further than hand holding and shy glances.

One day, Law leaned in for a kiss, clearly trying his best to seem nonchalant about it, but you moved your cheek away. Laughing away the discomfort.

“Law! Bepo’s waiting for you.” You say smiling to avoid confrontation (like always), and you nod your head towards the docks.

Indeed the white polar bear was waving and waiting for his captain. But Law didn’t even bother glancing when you won’t even try to make eye contact with him.

How many times have you avoided his kiss at this point?

You felt kind of bad, he’s already struggling so much mustering up the courage. So you let him initiate a kiss on your lips for the first time on Zou after you started dating.

And now Law seems adamant on growing comfortable with it. You rather wish he didn’t. You hated the feeling of his lips onto yours. It felt like flesh entangled with flesh. It made you queasy, made you feel out of place. It only happened once so far and yet… you don’t feel like you deserve it. A coward like you? A pathetic girl who let one event ruin it all for her?

You wanted to kiss him back, but from just hugging you felt the warmth surging out your body like ice. Stiffening your shoulders like prickling blades, making you clutch your hands together—bracing the fear.

He says your name, coolly as he leans back and you turn to face him. “Have I… done something wrong?”

You blink.

The expression he carries—brows knitted and golden eyes brimming with worry. It catches you off guard.

“No, nono Law you haven’t done anything wrong. I just haven’t been feeling well lately that’s all.” You itch your cheek, not sure what lie to conjure up. But at that his eyes lightens up in a look you know far too well.

Doctor-mode-activated.

“You haven’t been feeling well? Why haven’t you told me sooner?” He plants a palm over your forehead, takes your wrist into his hand and places two fingers onto your pulse. Checking, nodding.

“Your pulse seems to be fine if not a little bit skitterish, and your temperature is perfect. Have you been eating well?”

You try and get a word in but the questions just keep piling,

“Have you drank enough water? Perhaps it’s vitamin deficiency; I know we’ve been visiting winter islands lately. I should’ve supplied the crew with more D- and C-vitamins. Come, let’s get you checked in the med—“

It is only when he clasps over your wrist, a bit too firm for your liking, a bit too sudden for your comfort—do you snap your wrist free.

Overwhelmed and uncomfortable you flinch away. “I’m fine, Law.” You say, curtly.

“Your health matters a lot to me, you shouldn’t brush it over—“ His hand makes it to your shoulder but you flinch away.

“I said I’m fine, look Law. The crew’s waiting for you and I don’t intend to have this conversation here. I’m fine. So just go.”

You can’t bring yourself to look at him. Your shoulders are tensed up, legs growing weak.

“Hey, are you sure I didn’t do anything—?”

“I said just go! What’s so hard to understand? I’m fine. I’ll get better once you give me some space, so can you just drop it already?”

Your chin is low, your eyes not meeting and your expression rigid. Law notes that and takes a step back, giving you the space you need.

Suddenly It feels like you can breathe again. You gain some strength in your posture but your eyes and tone remain flat of confidence.

“Alright. Let’s talk about this when I get back, okay?”

You can’t bring yourself to answer, your throat too tight you only nod in reply. He sighs deeply from his chest, patting your head once before departing.

“Captain is everything okay? It looked like you both were in an argument.” You hear Bepo say as they walk off. Law does not answer him.

When you crash your face into your pillow you feel like the worst human being alive.

Who yells at their boyfriend for trying to kiss them!? Worse, who snaps at their boyfriend for being worried over them!? And your boyfriend wasn’t anyone; It’s Law! Trafalgar D. Water Law! He’s been nothing but caring, nothing but perfect! You feel like the biggest bitch in the whole grand line.

You slam your fist onto your innocent plushie, angry and disappointed at yourself. The plushie deflates, it’s head shape giving failed brain surgery.

You lay there in bed, defeated and discouraged. You wish you could apologise, you wish you could explain everything to him but what is there to say?

Oh my bad, I just have trouble with people touching me, oopsie!

No way that would work; he would roll his eyes, give you a snarky comment and shrug you off.

You feel humiliatingly, pathetically, stupid.

You’re so lost in self hatred and embarrassment you don’t notice your boyfriend sliding your door open.

When he says your name you jolt yourself up.

“I knocked but you didn’t answer so I got worried.” He rubs his neck, his eyes looking you over.

“L-Law…” You greet, straightening your back and shoulders.

“… Can I sit?”

He gestures to your bed and you fret, cheeks burning red.

“Yes! Of course!” You scoot over to give him space. Before he sits down he sees the plushie you smashed head flat, his eye twitches.

At first you both sit there in silence, staring at the wall together. You try your best keeping a straight face.

“So—“ you both begin, eyes meeting each other only for both to snap away.

“You begin first.”

“No it’s cool, go ahead.”

“No I insist, you go first.”

“Well. Alright…” He caves in and you stiffen.

He lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples. “Back there, at the dock, I’m sorry about that. If you didn’t want to be seen kissing I should’ve known and refrained. It was selfish of me for not checking with you first.”

You place your palms over your thighs, perplexed.

It’s true, you already struggle with touches in private, but it overwhelmed you even more when Bepo was watching. Your lips press into a tight line, the fact that Law noticed that… makes your guilt from before even worse!

You feel yourself cringe, curling into yourself.

“Was I wrong? I’m sorry, could you tell me what is—“

“No, Law.” You go to your feet, suddenly determined to fix this, fix whatever it is that is wrong with you. You ready yourself, giving him a glance of confidence that could be mistaken for disapproval.

Seeing the way you’ve clenched your fist in determination (not to his knowledge) he can’t help but wonder if he’s going to turn into that plushie soon.

You go to stand in front of him, slowly, carefully, movements focused and steady like you’re pouncing for a kill—hands reaching for his broad and sculpted shoulders with all the confidence in the world.

Once you’ve planted your hands on top, you’re not sure what else to do.

So you just stare, intensely.

Palms starting to sweat.

He blinks, completely unsure what you’re trying to do and at this point you don’t know either. All you do know is you wanted to try—you wanted to get somewhere with this.

Despite being girlfriend and boyfriend, it’s only been Law who’s been initiating contact. Only him who has tried to kiss you, hold you, love you. And you? Like a coward you’ve turned away, flinched and pushed all coming displays of affection. For so long you’ve wanted to be held, to be caressed and despite so you shove it away. You slam the door as soon as it presents itself and it’s stupid. You feel stupid.

It doesn’t sit right with you.

“Law,” you hum, knee planting between his crotch and you swear panic starts to pile up between his gaze.

“H-hey, what are you doing?” He gulps, internally spiralling as you make it closer.

Everything in you screams to move away—but no! You’re going to fight it! You’re gonna be stronger and better than your fear! You’ve decided this and you’ve chosen this.

Law does not know where to put his hands or if he should spread his knees. Would that be weird? Would it make you uncomfortable? Maybe you’ll feel how his hands are sweaty? He just stares at your face, heart thudding, ears turning hot red as you straddle on top of him.

“We haven’t…” he stumbles and you press your lips shut, nodding. “You’re right… we haven’t.”

“Yeah so…” he looks away, teeth gritting from the lack of control he has over this situation. He can’t keep staring at you—he’ll be no better than the Strawhat cook at this rate… but you’re so pretty it would be too much of a shame to not gawk.

It feels like he’s digging his head in.

“So…” he clears his throat, getting the wrong idea entirely.

You blink, misunderstanding his fluster.

“Law, why are you looking away? Was this too forward? I’m sorry I only wanted to get us comfortable, I’ll get off—“

“No!”

He grips you by the side of your thighs and you can’t help flinching but you stay there. Not moving away. You swallow the fear down.

“I…” he gulps, finally meeting your gaze.

“I want you here. It feels nice.”

At that, you can’t help but smile… because you feel the exact opposite! This is your worst possible nightmare turned into a 4K live experience. It takes everything in you to not slap his hands away and hide in your closet.

But you started this war and you’re determined to see it through. You purse your lips, “Can we start this over?”

Law blinks, “what do you mean?”

“When you first kissed me back at Zou…” you give him a glance, “Can we pretend this is our first? Please?”

Your voice is sweet, your cheeks are flushed but your fingers are trembling. Gripping his shoulders as if to ground you, clenching your thighs against his as if to anchor you from the nesting fear of rejection, of the shivers running up your calves. Law’s gaze soften, noticing it all, his hands to steady on your hip loosens, drifting away.

He says your name, low, controlled—steady. “You know, being inlove is a lot like being afraid.” His skilled fingers travels up your thigh, skimming across your skin in a slow precise movement. You shudder. “When you’re afraid, your skin shivers when you see them,” Goosebumps trails your skin as he makes it further up to your stomach and you clench your teeth in discomfort. “You have a more difficult time breathing and your heart hammers hard and fast as if you’re about to die—“ his hand makes it to your chest, one cold palm placing where your heart should sit. “Tell me, are you afraid of me?”

Your heart beats uncontrollably, your chest tightening and your breathing becoming unsteady. Clutching his shoulders so hard you almost dig into his skin.

“No, not you. Never you.”

“Then what?”

Your vision blurs, your chest twisting and aching, and you try to steady yourself. Suddenly feeling very lightheaded. You lean in but Law does not move; his eyes are on yours, soft, kind, loving.

And like a river breaking the dam, your chest comes into a release as tears spills down your cheeks. You tell him how you feel, your hands clutching atop of his neck—and when you stutter and sob he does not click his tongue at you. Does not condescend or demean you. He holds you in place, steers you into his chest. He lets you be in his embrace—and for once it is not uncomfortable or unpleasant. It feels warm, it feels right.

His touches aren’t awkward or unsure, no, they’re set. Precised. Controlled. He does not caress you, does not trail his hands across your back—no, he simply just rocks you in place. Keeps you steady, keeps you safe.

And when you at last come back calm, when your breathing slows, and your shivering stops, only then does he remove your hair from your face.

He rubs the tear stains left on your cheek away, and gives you a smile you swear only you will ever see. His gaze is warm; sharp edges displaying fondness and when his mouth opens his voice is a whisper.

“You sure you want to do this?”

“More than anything else.”

His thumb swipes across your lower lip, hand tilting your chin. He does not lean in, he does not move or claim. He simply waits, and watches as you slowly, between each thudding heart beat, finally choose to close the gap.

A peck at first, his lips are soft and sweet. You don’t feel queasy, you don’t feel uncomfortable. You feel light, you feel greedy. You move in closer, kissing just a little bit deeper. A little bit bolder. It’s clumsy, it’s silly, and you hear yourself giggle between each little kiss. And for each one, you feel him curl into a small, sheepish smile against your own; before kissing you back.

Summary: You two stayed like that for awhile; smiling, kissing, giggling. The memory that once haunted you still remains but you don’t flinch away anymore, not from Law. You still think about what happened but when you’re with him you’re allowed to remain secure—and for one moment, when his fingers intertwine with yours; You don’t mind the world watching, seeing, observing. With him the memory remains forgotten and you can only think back about that time in your bedroom. Happy. Still. Safe.

Donquixote Doflamingo

Who you were before, who you was and who you cared for and what had happened to you; doesn’t matter anymore. No. Not since you became his—his darling, his lover, his pet.

Your home was a broken place. Familiar faces blurring into grey, dark corners where a little figure would sob into knees and pale blue bruises blooming in places you’ll never forget.

But now, grown and away—under his gaze, his palm, his love; you’re safe. You’re ready.

You’ve only seen the Doflamingo he wants you to see. Charming, buoyant and loving. The ever generous king and glamorous Warlord.

So when you entered his palace life; you entered it blindly into the arms of your saviour, your doting lover, and flamboyant king.

He was rich, royal, and powerful. One of the seven Warlords and king of Dressrosa. He was the pearl upon the oyster.

Compared to him, you were nothing. You had nothing, you was nothing. But he chose you didn’t he? This worthless body of yours, this damaged skin and ruined mind—he saw worth in you.

Someone like him… with someone like you…

What would he do if he ever found out? Would he get rid of you? Throw you away after finding out your dirty secrets and filthy past? Just thinking about it makes you sick.

Because of that, his love was like a drug; poisonous if not sweet, addicting to taste and smooth like honeymead.

He ravished you in gifts, clothes, diamonds and gold. With him you cold bathe in money, with him you could eat your favourite meal over and over again, with him you could sleep in silky sheets and drown in expensive oils.

You were his darling after all, his lover and his beautiful girl. You didn’t have to be anyone great, all you had to do was keep looking at him, starry eyed and loyal to the bone.

Love for him, die for him. That was all you had to do, all you had to be.

Doflamingo did love you. He does, he do. But who you were before you met him, he could care less for. You were his afterall and that was all that mattered.

So far he’s respected your distance, it must surely be nothing but shyness, he thought. But sometimes, when you thought he wasn’t looking all that closely, he noted the shivers ran deeper than that, the flinches and the rigid posture was more than just timidity but fear. Genuine fear. Fear he’s familiar inflicting onto others, such terror only a man of his stature could be capable in making. But he’s sure it’s not fear of him.

You would not laugh the way you do around him, you wouldn’t smile all sheepish and goofy at his jokes and dinner dates. No. This fear is for once, not of his doing.

But he does not prod. Does not pry, he’s a respectful boyfriend after all and does not demand secrets out of you. He simply stalks your entire past history, legal and illegal documents of your life piling up his office without your knowledge.

Your past jobs, your personal relationships, even the kindergarten you went to. A girl from a seemingly normal family. With normal income. With normal friends and normal life. So… what was it that scared you so?

Despite only seeing his benevolence, witnessing his grandeur and generosity—you could tell. The violence that surges beneath his skin.

You’ve witnessed it more times than you can count during your own sordid past, so when you first met your lover, you could tell what kind of man he was, and you knew not to push your luck.

You were living in his palace for weeks now, he let you roam around freely, everywhere but his office when he was working night. A pretty flower like you shouldn’t associate herself with his work load… but it’s been days now and you haven’t seen him once, well not properly. He had breakfast with you but that was about it.

Gladiator tournament is coming up, so his work is piled up.

But even so…

One night, you missed him more than you could bear. You had a bad nightmare and you felt your neck damp with sweat. You needed to hear his praise, his validation, his sweetness. So you padded down the halls in your nightgown, you’ll just see him, just this once you’ll ask for his attention.

That isn’t too much is it…?

His office door is left ajar, light spilling through and as you inch closer, smile etched onto your face from excitement to see your boyfriend—you hear the crash of glass scattering inside.

You freeze. Loud sounds weren’t good, loud sounds meant violence. But your fear is swallowed by worry; is Doffy being threatened? Hurt? You hurry over, peeking through the door only to bear witness to a cruelty no generous, amiable, and benevolent king could ever possess.

You see your lover together with Trebol and Diamante—shouting, scheming, Doffy’s feet on an old man’s head, sprawled across the floor in his own whimpers and blood.

Your heart drums, that position… was once yours during your childhood days.

Doffy rubs his sole onto him, a smile cracking across his face. A smile that the blurry faces long past forgotten, once had towards you.

Your heart breaks into pieces.

Is it anger? Is it sadness? Disappointment or terror? You don’t know. You don’t care to find out either.

You turn to leave only to hear the door slam open, and you yelp. Your blood rushing cold, hot white noise spilling over your senses as your shoulders freeze up.

Your heart thudded and hammered.

“Who’s—!!!” Diamante presses his lips shut at the sight of you. Frozen, scared, whimpering—with wide eyes that has seen far too much.

“Who is it, Diamante.” You hear your lover say in the background and you cover your ears when you hear him kick away the man beaten on the floor.

“It’s erm. It’s….”

“Don’t keep Doffy waiting.” Trebol cackles back and you feel squeamish. Diamante’s hand reaches for your arm and you break into sobs as it clasps around you.

Firm, hard, sharp. Making you flinch.

You stutter out “no no no” as he drags you in, and as soon as Doflamingo catches the sight of you, his once playful grin shatters immediately. “Shit.” He mumbles under his breath.

Trebol tilts his head, all snoot and boogers, “uh-oh, Doffy won’t like this—“

“Leave. The both of you.” He hisses, “and take the trash with you.”

They both comply, for a moment you think trash means you, so you flinch in place but who Diamante reaches for is the beaten man, and not you.

They drag him out, leaving you alone with your once so perfect, oh-so-kind and gentle lover.

You clutch your arms where Diamante so cruelly gripped onto you, legs growing so weak they give out. Your knees hitting the floor. You feel your mouth moving on its own.

“I-… i.. i’m so sorry, Doffy, I just, I was just so alone and- and scared and I—!”

“Didn’t I tell you not to come here, especially, especially at night?” His voice is sharp, laced with such annoyance you think you’re going to get beaten. “I’m s-sorry. I had a nightmare and I wanted t-to be with you. I’m sorry, I’m so stupid and selfish. I’m so sorry—“

He gathers himself, seeing the way you’re breaking down stirs something in him. He doesn’t want you to be anxious, he doesn’t like seeing that expression on your face. You should be happy, you should be laughing and smiling like you’re always meant to. He says your name, his voice so unlike before, became calm, poised—levelled. “Look at me will you?”

And you do, tears and snot streaming down your face. But where you expect a vein bulging above his brows, you only see something that could be mistaken for fondness. Softness.

He walks over to you, his hand reaching out and you flinch away. He’s going to hurt you, isn’t he? Like that man? Like the people before him?

His hand stops mid track, his head tilting with a face so innocent of confusion you’re unsure if this is the same person rubbing their soles onto others faces.

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you? Like that man you saw?”

You don’t trust yourself to speak so you only advert your gaze, nodding. “Oh, my pretty girl… you don’t have to worry about that. He was a bad person, he was extorting me out of my own pockets. So don’t feel any pity for him, sweetheart. He does not deserve your kindness.”

His hand reaches for your face again but fear grips you by the reins, slapping his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” You grit out.

How stupid does he take you to be? You’ve always known, deep down your heart, you’ve always known the violence surging beneath his skin and yet you’ve denied yourself any sense of it for the sake of love. But now the evidence is staring right back at you, and you can’t bear to hear his lies.

Your vision starts to blur, tears streaming down your face as you try and hold in your sobs only for hiccups to form.

“Tut, tut. Where is this coming from? You must be shaken from what you’ve seen, that’s why I didn’t want you to be around my office. Since I know how sensitive your heart can be.”

He hunches down to your level, hands attempting to grab you once again but you flinch away.

“I said don’t touch me!” You say, firm and almost angry. Doflamingo halts. Eyes hardening as they dart across your figure from the sudden defiance, trying to figure out what to offer to make you submit, trying to figure out what words to coax you with.

You feel so weak, so pathetically powerless, and the way Doffy leans across you feels a lot like a predator luring in a wounded prey. In a sense, perhaps that’s what you are.

You’re trembling, shaking even. You won’t look his way, you won’t meet his gaze. Your shoulders are tense, your hands clutching your arms—rigid, stiff, scared.

“You’re afraid of me.” He says it not as a question but a statement and was he truly wrong? Was he? How is he any different from the people that hurt you once? You’ve seen it, how quick people can go from gentle to violent. You know how easy it is for the occasional kindness to suddenly run out. So was it wrong to be scared? To be wary?

“Or… are you afraid of something else?”

You twitch and hitch your breath. It snaps into place for him.

“Has someone hurt you? Is that it? Is that why you’ve avoided my touches? I thought it to be mere innocence but you’re meaning to say someone dared to raise their hand at what’s mine? my girl? My lover?” He grits his teeth, a familiar anger spilling out and a vein is formed between his brows. “Give me the name of those fools and I’ll show them what happens when they hurt what’s mine.”

His voice raises and your stomach and chest tightens, nausea building up your throat and your arms and hands are rushing cold. You cannot bring yourself to move, cannot bring yourself to run. You’re frozen in place, like a trapped animal. And maybe that’s exactly what you are.

Your breathing comes undone, and Doflamingo who was ready to slaughter your entire home village, let his murderous tendencies evaporate; his tone returning to gentle. As if speaking to a lost child.

“Oh sweetheart, did I bring up bad memories? I didn’t mean to hurt you, you know that don’t you? Let’s not overboard you with all of this, I’ve only ever wished to look out for you. So… why don’t you tell me what happened? I’ll let you know I’m a pretty good listener.”

You wipe your tears, lips coming into a wry. “Do you really mean that?”

“What makes you think I don’t? But not here, not on the floor.” He reaches out his hand to you, offering it like a paw waiting for a treat.

You clutch to your chest, staring at the hand that could possibly strangle you to death if he so wished it—but you won’t hear it. Not now. Not tonight. You want your gentle and doting lover back. Not the monster you discovered tonight. You place your palm into his.

He brings you up to your feet, fingers interlacing with yours as he guides you both out the corridors. Walking side by side, hand in hand. They’re large, calloused but they’re also warm. They’re gentle. They’re his.

You both don’t say anything as you make it back to your bedroom, your hands just clutch onto each other. Binding you into one.

He steers you to your bed, your chin low and eyes swollen. He does not speak as he tucks you in. He sits down at the edge of the bed as he lets you nestle deeper into your blankets, it’s cozy and warm.

Doflamingo stares into the moonlight paving across the room like silver streams. As in deep in thought.

When you first started dating Doflamingo, you always perceived him as someone worthy of reverence. His kingdom and people has nothing but good to say about him. And since you first met him, he adored you. He gave you a worthy job offer and a place to stay at his palace. Was that version of him just a facade? And if so… how much of it is false? Along with his benevolence, was his love for you also a mirage? An illusion to keep you straight? But if so… why go so far as to hold your hand? To touch you gently? To say your name in such fondness it cannot be anything but adoration? You had nothing, you had no one. So what is there to gain… but your trust and love itself?

“Doffy,” you break the silence with and he turns to you. Seeing the way your cheeks are flushed and red, makes him crack a smile.

How cute.

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you cherish me?”

He stops grinning at that, giving you a brow instead. “What kind of question is that. Of course I do. Don’t you feel cherished?”

You press down a smile and yet… “that man… was he really bad?”

His hand goes to touch your cheek but he refrains. “He owed me money and couldn’t pay back, so I had to deal with him.”

“Do you do that often? Hurting… others?”

“Yes.” He does not even hesitate, “it’s necessary to keep the weak in check.”

You feel that familiar fear creep down your chest, but you clutch your hands. “Do you think I’m weak?”

He stares at you for a second, unsure where this is coming from as he studies your face. Anxious, sullen—afraid. “It doesn’t matter because it’s you. You don’t need to be strong, you can just… be. As long as you’re here with me, by my side, you can be and do whatever you want. You can have anything that you want.”

You feel disappointment wash over you—of course you weren’t of the strongest but hearing it from your own lover, stings.

And yet, strangely enough it reassures you.

Him saying it doesn’t matter because it’s you, somehow feels kind. It feels as if for once, you don’t need to uphold any expectations, you don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not. Strong or weak, it doesn’t matter. Because for him you’re the one exception to his cruelty. And maybe, as the fool you are, maybe you are willing to gamble on that exception.

You sit up, inching closer to him. Despite the brutality you witnessed a few moments ago, you still long for his sweetness, his validation and praise but this time… you want something more. Something you’ve yet not grown ready to grasp. You want to be held, consoled, comforted. You want his embrace and his kiss.

Slowly, fingers slightly trembling and eyes locked on his—you reach for his face. He does not move, does not stir when your palms rests on both his cheeks. He only stares, his gaze becomes heavy, and you press your lips tight.

“I want to kiss you.” You say, softly. He hums, not moving an inch. “Can I do that?”

“You’re asking me that?” He tilts his head, a sly grin spreading across his face. “It is you I’m waiting for, darling.”

You feel something warm, something sweet bristle in your chest and you press down a smile. You feel so childish, so little. Your lover has probably kissed a thousand and you struggle with only one. You feel more than just childish, you feel stupid.

Your lover notices your hesitation and places a soft hand on yours. “You’re having stupid thoughts—don’t. I want you, I chose you so don’t go around thinking nonsense.”

His words bring you courage and you inch closer, closing the gap between you two. When you finally land your lips onto his, it’s as if his restraint snaps into two—and he claims you hard and raw. Tongue skims over yours and you moan, half in discomfort, half in greed. Parting away when you start to feel hot and heavy.

You feel tears blurring your vision, your hands trembling and your shivers running down your back. You feel weird—uncomfortable, out of place almost but you don’t want to move away. You don’t want to end this here.

“Can you—“ you bury yourself into his chest. “Can you just hold me instead? I’m scared.”

You feel his hand skim over your back, fingers trailing the curve of your spine and reaching the back of your neck. Pulling you closer. Holding you tighter.

“I told you didn’t I? My darling gets everything she wants, doesn’t she?” He plants his chin atop your head, “Everything she wants.”

Summary: Doflamingo won’t change for you. His cruelty is a part of him, his viciousness a second nature. And one way or another, he’ll corrupt you—your fear become your cruelty, your broken past a source of anger. His nurture is one of wickedness but in his own way, it is salvation. It is reassurance. For you, behind closed doors, he’ll be gentle, soft, kind. He’ll love you in places you can’t. Wash your hair in the bath, hold your hand in bed. He’ll let you have your distance till you feel strong and ready. He’ll give you his shoulder, his arms and his outmost devotion if that is what you so need.

And somewhere, far from Dressrosa, in a village where a broken home laid nesting, where familiar faces blur into grey—and a forgotten dark corner where a little figure had sobbed into knees from a past long ago—a headline of it will appear in the morning papers in the past coming days. The country burnt into crisp, a childhood memory lost between the ashes and laid to ruins. You will not question it, you will not find fear in it. Your once dark past has been put to rest and sooner or later, by his devotion and corruption, your instincts will come to fade. And you will find only safety nestled between his palms, his shadow.

Roronoa Zoro

Having a moss-head for a boyfriend means nothing will go unnoticed, and I mean nothing. You loved that man with a passion—tall, tanned and muscular. Attentive, observing and present.

He won’t write heart felt confessions out for you but he will note the way your hands goes to your throat or necklace when you feel nervous, he will see how you gently steer his hands away when he leans in for an embrace.

He won’t question your avoidance, he won’t prod for your wariness but he will see them, and let you have your space.

You loved your boyfriend, you did and as much as you wanted to feel him, touch him, you just couldn’t bring yourself to actually do it. You’ve always been more wary towards touch, it made you feel trapped, made you feel out of place and made your stomach turn.

As you started dating, gradually you noted how he slowly stopped initiating contact, as if noticing your despair. It’s not that Zoro was an overly affectionate lover but you do know he appreciates it more than anything else.

Even if he didn’t comment on it you felt guilty, you felt bad and you felt selfish. What kind of girlfriend can’t hug or kiss her boyfriend? Maybe he’ll grow frustrated over time? Maybe he’ll get bored and tired of you without initiating contact? The fear of that—the abandonment and possibility of his patience coming undone scares you like nothing else.

So one night, when the crew had a bonfire feast, docked by a lonely beach—you and Zoro were sitting alone together by the fire. Watching everyone drink and eat till their hearts content, Brook and Franky entertaining the crew with karaoke.

You were in a good mood that night, the good food and company had made you laugh all night long, and now you’re bummed out. Spending time alone with your boyfriend instead.

You glanced at your lover then, he had an easy going smile as he gulped down his sake for each passing moment.

You felt your lips wry—he’s handsome. You knew that of course but right now, you can’t help but stare.

He turns his gaze towards you, and you blush, snapping your eyes away.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I was lost in thought.”

“Huh.” He takes a swig of his flask but stops momentarily when he sees your empty cup. “Here, try some of this. It’s sweet, so you wont note the bitter aftertaste .”

“I can handle liquor!” You protest but you let him pour anyways. “Yeah? Then why do you frown each time you taste my drinks?”

“Maybe because what you drink is pure alcohol poisoning?”

He stifled a smile at that, handing the cup to you. You try it, and he’s right—It’s sweet! Like juice!

“See? I was right that you’d like it.”

Indeed he was—because he knows you. He’s seen you, observed you. You feel your chest bristle with warmth.

You inch a bit closer, feeling a little bold from the alcohol. “Zoro,” you tilt your head at him and he blinks.

“What are you thinking about?” He says accusingly and you laugh, planting your chin in your palms. “Noooothing~ just that my boyfriend is really handsome.”

A corner of his lip jerk upwards, a cocky smirk coming in place, “Yeah? You think so?”

“Mhm.”

Your cheeks are getting rounder, your smile all goofy and inlove. It hits you then; you want to kiss him. Pecker and attack him with it. So what’s stopping you?

Despite wanting to, despite craving it like a touch starved sailor at sea—you can’t bring yourself to do it. He sees your contemplation and leans a bit closer, narrowing his eye at you. You flinch in place, unused to this invasion of space, but you don’t back away. Not this time.

“You have that look on your face when you want something but can’t bring yourself to say it.”

You stare at his lips—thick and probably soft. Your lips part, wondering what they taste like.

“I think you’re mistaken, the alcohol got me absent minded.”

He blinks, glancing at your almost empty cup before cocking a smile at you, lifting the flask he poured for you. “It’s just juice.”

…it’s just… juice???

Your face goes bash red, “Hey! You tricked me!”

“I didn’t trick you, I just said it was sweet and that you wouldn’t frown from a bitter aftertaste.”

“You withheld information—That’s the same as tricking me!”

He starts to laugh at your outburst and you pretend to be offended, “And now you’re laughing at me, wow! I’ll never forget this, mark my words.”

“I’m not laughing at you—hey!” He laughs harder when you elbow him on the side, reaching for his actual alcohol.

The flask is light, it’s empty. You frown.

“You drank it all? Really?”

He takes one last sip on his drink, going to his feet. “My bad, I’ll find some more booze for us.” He takes a step forward, away from you and you panic—leeching onto his arm. He freezes. “Don’t go! I rather want you to stay.”

“It’ll only be a short while—“

“No. Stay. Please.” You give him that look he can’t resist and he pulls a face before sighing.

“Dammit lady, must you be so demanding.” He sits back down, a bit closer to you than before. You realise you still have hands on his arm.

You inch a bit closer, even if it’s unfamiliar and strange, you don’t want it to end. Not like this.

You start to note everyone has tuckered out, and it’s just you and Zoro left awake by the fire.

Perhaps it’s the good mood, perhaps it’s his casual sweetness or perhaps it’s the drinks from before—but your courage gathers.

Slowly, carefully, like snow descending down onto green, you make your head onto his shoulder. You note how he watches you, takes in the shape of your face and the curl of your lips but you don’t glance back.

You only watch the fire dance and flicker, as the embers slowly burns out.

His shoulder is sturdy, sharp but warm. It’s firm in strength, packed in muscle. Resting your head there—it feels safe. It feels right.

He stirs and you fear you’ve been too selfish only for him to lean back in. His movement is restraint, if not hesitant. As if he’s been waiting for this moment all his time knowing you, but in fear of messing it up.

You feel your cheeks heat and you plant a palm over his hand. He intertwines you both, fingers lacing with yours. His touch is careful, it is measured, as if not trying to put too much weight onto you. As if scared you’ll break and fall into pieces if he’s not careful.

Perhaps it’s his touch, his reserved gentleness for you and you alone that makes you glance to him, turning your head to his direction and he faces you.

For some reason, you feel shy. You feel timid but you also feel brazen and in want.

“Can you kiss me?”

Your voice is soft, almost like a whisper as you gaze upon his eyes that soften at the sight of you.

You can’t help but note the glint in them as if staring at something precious, at something irreplaceable, and to him, you are.

“You fine with that?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak with all these emotions brewing in your chest and he leans in.

It’s soft at first, like a kiss shared by two teenagers who have never kissed before. He tastes of booze and liquor—and you find yourself giggling.

“You’re shy.” You tease him and he gets bashful, “Hah? Nothing about me is shy—“

You grab his face by both of your hands and he shuts up. Your observing and laid back boyfriend is bright pink at the sight of you and you lean in. Giving him a kiss back.

The twists in your stomach, the wariness and the self consciousness that awakens with each touch, seems to have become a fear long gone.

You kiss him on the lips, on the nose, and cheeks and his jaw. You kiss him on his brows and his temples. Everywhere on his face, ending it on his lips, once again.

“That’s unfair.” He mutters and you smile.

“Buuuut?”

“… but I like it.” He grumbles, taking your hands away from his face. “Zoro?”

He stares at you for a second, hands going up to your shoulders. You feel shivers run down your back, flinching when his hold steers you into his chest. Your heart is hammering, both in fear and excitement, but you feel too much joy to worry about anything.

He hugs you, arms encasing around you like a fortress whose one sole purpose is keeping you safe. And you do. You do feel safe.

You feel yourself leaning in, his warmth radiating into you and his scent filling your senses.

Your hands grab onto his back; for the first time since you started dating him—you don’t feel the need to push back. To flinch away and avoid his hands. For the first time, you long for more, you dig your face into the crook of his neck and pray this night will last forever.

“I’ve wanted to do this… for a very long time.” You hear him whisper, half to himself. You press your lips, feeling them play a smile. “Yes. Me too. Me too.”

He hugs you tighter, and you find that you do too.

Summary: You don’t have to explain anything to Zoro—he won’t prod you, but he’ll be there, waiting. Some days it’s harder than others, and he won’t question it. He lets you have your space, waiting patiently for you to come to him. You asked him one time, feeling guilt in the pit of your belly—“Won’t you grow tired of this? Of me? And all the things I don’t talk about?”

“No. I won’t.” He does not even hesitate when answering. It’s short, it’s blunt. But it is all that is needed for you to know how deep his devotion truly runs for you. And you alone.