#op:shanks

The Roger Pirates had been laying low for a few months, wandering about in the South Blue following a particularly high-profile rendezvous with an Admiral, when they drew in to dock at Bakemono Island.

It was here that you were found, sneaking up on, and stealing from, a tipsy Crocus. You’d nearly made it out the door too, cloak pulled tight over your shoulders, the rowdy drunken cheers of the crew providing a great distraction… until a firm hand clasped around your elbow and tugged you back. You spun around in shock, coming face-to-face with a red-haired boy roughly your own age, and a looming figure above.

You froze seeing his expression morph into one of shock, mentally preparing for him to be disgusted or angered by your eyes, the smattering of scales across your skin, your slightly pointed teeth, but his gaze only softened.

But the first things Shanks noticed were the cuts and scrapes covering you, evidence of the resentment and fear the locals had. You clearly hadn’t bathed in weeks (the lake long since frozen over in the harsh winter) and your lips were purple and trembling from the bitter night air. Bruises littered your skin, some fresh and some yellow.

Before you could run off again, Shanks had frantically called over a tall blond man. Rayleigh had looked down at you from behind shanks, immediately noticing the wallet clasped in your shaking hands, but his annoyance at a brat -And hell, you must’ve been no older than what, five?- stealing from his crew was quickly dulled when he saw your face. Any scolding died in his throat, and he gently forced you down into a chair, sliding you a bowl of stew with a simple demand, “eat.”

Courtesy of Shanks’s incessant probing, you reluctantly admitted you had no family or caregivers. Hearing this, Rayleigh and Roger had all but decided you were to become a member of their crew, a proposition you agreed to so quickly you accidentally choked on the bread roll you were given. The night had gone well after that, the crew didn’t ask questions, too tipsy or busy with terrible karaoke to bother, and once things had subdued you were brought aboard the Oro Jackson. 

You were carried to a small cabin by Rayleigh, barely awake. He tucked you into a comfortable hammock where you fell asleep feeling secure for the first time in your life.

That sense of tranquillity was lost the second you woke up.

A boy your own age grinned down with bright red eyes and equally shocking hair, interrupting your startled scream with a chirpy “Hey! I’m Shanks. Who- no don’t scream you’ll wake the clown- who’re you? Whatcha doin’ here? I like your… scales? And your eyes! And-”

From that moment on Shanks became a permanent fixture in your life, whether by your own volition or not, and while a little overwhelming for an orphaned social outcast to begin with, the redhead quickly became your best friend. Shanks, and the rest of the crew, helped you come out of your shell

Over time the two of you more or less became a packaged deal— wherever you went, the crew knew Shanks was soon to follow suit; wherever Shanks went, you’d be hot on his heels. Quickly, the Oro Jackson became home and the crew the family you’d never had.

You quickly caught up to Shanks in swordsmanship, leading to amused gambling from the crew during your many duels. As you got older, the crew learned to make the two of you wait until a nearby island before fighting, following a rather nasty incident of a cleaved mast. Your dragon abilities became stronger as you got older too, and a nasty bout of flu led to you setting Buggy’s hat on fire.

The sea was calm the day you’d pulled in to dock at orchard island. Roger entrusted the task of gathering a few specific supplies to you, a routine you carried out often. Hours passed, and the atmosphere on the ship grew uneasy. Shanks returned from his own chores, expecting to see you, but you were nowhere in sight. The crew began searching the ship frantically, calling your name with increasing worry. However, as the minutes turned into hours, and the hours gave way to nightfall, it became evident that something was terribly wrong.

Shanks discovered your belongings untouched in their shared quarters. The half-finished drawings, the worn-out pirate hat - all left behind. The crew descended on the town in search of you. 

In the heart of the town square, Gaban discovered a series of wanted posters plastered to the wall, large red “X”s painted over them — displaying your face. Shock ran through the crew as they first realised that the marines had been watching you closely. Then, that you’d been taken.

──────────────────── many years later...

The scent of salt and decay lingered in the air as Shanks and his crew disembarked onto the abandoned Naval Fortress, its walls cracked and crumbling, long since reclaimed by nature. 

Possibilities of treasures or hidden secrets about the World Government drew Shanks to investigate the fortress

The soft slap of his sandals echoed as he wandered through the corridors.

As the crew rifled through old storage rooms and examined dusty maps, Shanks couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this forsaken place. His instincts led him to a particularly intact section of the fortress; the walls stood strong, showing no signs of weathering.

“Hey, Benn,” he called over his shoulder, palm splayed against the cool stone, “you seeing what I’m seeing?”

A wave of Haki accompanied by a soft grunt confirmed it. Shanks pushed his hand forward, the brick beggining to slide backwards at the same time as a bookshelf on the opposite end of the room swung open. A draft of cold air greeted them as the secret door creaked open, revealing a dark passageway leading downwards. 

The two exchanged looks before descending, Benn lighting a bundle of old lamps as a torch. The descent was eerie, the walls damp and the air heavy. The further they went, the more ominous the surroundings became. Shadows danced on the walls, and the distant echo of dripping water kept them on edge. 

At the bottom of the passageway, Shanks caught his foot on something, something that clanked and grated against the lichen-covered floor. Benn swung the torch downwards, casting the corner of the room in dim light— and Shanks couldn't believe his eyes. Chained to the cold, the stone wall was a figure. You.

If you were to question someone what they liked about Christmas, it had to be about giving and receiving gifts. As pirates, they would mention how they loved the banquets and parties, often making a dumb excuse to celebrate and have a drink with everyone. Christmas was no different, it was a season when everyone will get together and party. So when the opportunity was presented to you, you were already in the kitchen with Lucky Roux, making something to feed the entire crew while they were drinking. You put the batch of Christmas-themed chocolate you made into the fridge to let it cool before helping with whatever Lucky Roux needed from you.

It wasn’t until the party was nearing the end that you skipped towards the kitchen, eager to let the crew taste the chocolate you prepared earlier. The moment you opened the fridge, you noticed the absence of the chocolate tray that you placed on the top rack. For a moment, you thought it was just misplaced but when it was nowhere to be seen inside the fridge, you began to frantically look around for your chocolates.

"What are you looking for, baby?"

"Oh! Perfect timing! Did you see the chocolate I made for the crew? I put it in the fridge earlier....." you mumbled absentmindedly, turning to face your lover who stood at the door of the kitchen. It was then you noticed the little smudges of chocolate on Shanks' lips and fingers. You narrowed your eyes at him and he visibly gulped at the sight of your glare. He backed away until he felt the cool wood against his back. You stood in front of him with an icy glare, studying his every move.

"Shanks....." you started in a low tone that sent shivers down his spine.

"Yes, honey?" Shanks did his best to smile at you.

"Did you eat all of my holiday chocolate?"

"I may or may not.....have eaten them because I got hungry." Shanks admitted, rubbing the back of his head. He could almost see the invisible bomb inside your head go off.

"It was going to be for tonight's party! Now I gotta make something else for dessert—What are you smiling at, Shanks?!” you pulled at his cheeks with an angry glare.

Shanks watched as you huffed angrily, turning away and moving away from him. He could hear you grumble and complain, slowly stomping against the floorboards of the ship. It was pretty cute in his eyes but he knows that you were mad. For a moment, he watches cautiously when you turn your back against him, heading into the store room that was just at the back of the kitchen. After a while, Shanks decided to follow you to apologize. You could hear his footsteps and abruptly turn around, making him stop in his tracks.

"Don't follow me, Shanks." you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

"C'mon, don't be mad. I'll help you make a new batch." he offered. 

Shanks knew that he can be childish sometimes and he could see the scowl reflected on your face. There are occasions when he would underestimate your feelings, incapable of understanding what is really going through your head. One part of him was telling him that you were being a little bit too dramatic but he knows that that was not the case. He tries to understand from your perspective. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he was not valuing your efforts and feelings. He hopes that you're not as mad as he thinks you are.

"Fine! But you're not getting any of the new ones because you ate all of the ones I made earlier!" you huffed angrily at him.

"I can help you taste test! The chocolate was really delicious!" Shanks grins widely, following you back into the kitchen.

"Hurry up and come help! Or you won't get any cuddles for the next 3 days!"

Total: 891 words Published: 23.12.2022

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Imagine...

Shanks blowing you sloppily under the table while you work. Taking his time and teasing your length, groaning when you brush his red locks from his face or roll your hips gently.

Shanks who sucks dick for his pleasure, not yours, laving his tongue around your leaky tip with a satisfied hum; who buries his nose into your groin and nips at the surrounding skin, and runs a hot sloppy kiss up the side of your length.

Shanks who praises you absentmindedly, thoughts rolling off his tongue: "God, you taste so fucking good" ... "So handsome like this" ... "C'mon sweet boy, let me hear more of them pretty moans" ... "Oh, I'm gonna absolutely ruin you later"

Shanks who whines when you fist a hand in his hair and tug- pulling him up and down your length at your own pace, soft, wet sounds coming from his throat with each thrust

Shanks who laughs breathily and gazes up at you with deep crimson eyes, slapping your cockhead on his tongue before taking you down until he gags slightly

Shanks who makes your eyes roll back as he gently scrapes his teeth just right, the slick sounds as he bobs his head up and down your length adding to the heat building in your gut

Shanks who fists his own aching dick while he watches you lovingly, enamoured at every little sound that escapes you, the way your jaw feathers and your muscles tense as you teeter on the edge

Shanks who pulls off your dick with a wet pop, jerking you fast while he presses his cheek to your length, murmuring a sinful “That's my good boy, come on, come f'me darlin',” in between pants

Shanks who milks your cock and outright groans as the first streaks of cum hit his face.

Shanks who takes you back into his mouth only to slurp messily at the last of your release, pulling off just before the sensitivity becomes too much and you writhe under his touch

Shanks who gets up clumsily when you reach to pull him into your arms, ready to repay your lover, but whimpers when you reach down to stroke him and find his shaft covered in his own seed, cock softening after he came just from blowing you