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Whumper who succeeds in breaking Whumpee—and regrets it
CW: noncon
Whumper who misses Whumpee’s fire and defiance, constantly trying to tease it out of them only to be met with sunken, tired eyes. Whumpee doesn’t have the energy to deal with it right now.
Whumper who tries to provoke Whumpee. Attacks their character or their family to set Whumpee off and actually hear Whumpee’s voice. Instead, they’re only met with crying.
Spoiling Whumpee: getting Whumpee games or puzzles. Something to stimulate their mind so Whumper stops feeling like they’re living with a houseplant.
Whumpee who ignores the gifts. They’re too tired to do anything, anyways.
Whumper inviting Whumpee to sit down at the table for meals. Maybe some healthy, normal-person conversation could help?
Whumpee whose appetite starts to become affected by their depression. They refuse almost every meal, just taking enough bites to satisfy Whumper as Whumper watches Whumpee get skinnier and skinnier.
Punishing Whumpee for “being boring.” Whumpee who closes their eyes and just accepts it. The sooner they pass out, the better.
In contrast, withholding punishment. Being kind and affectionate, trying to draw Whumpee back out of their shell. Too late. Whumpee won’t flinch away from the touch, but they won’t sink into it either.
Forced drugging. Whumper’s sick and tired of Whumpee’s “bad mood.” They put a little something-something in Whumpee’s water, just looking for a reaction.
Whumper bringing in a ‘doctor’ to evaluate Whumpee because “They’re just not getting better.”
NSFW edition
Prioritizing Whumpee’s pleasure. Making it gentle and affectionate. Keeping them unrestrained to give them just a little bit more control over the situation. Asking "do you like it when I do this? How about this? Does that feel good to you?"
Better yet—Whumper getting even more annoyed when this doesn’t work and tries to stop themselves from forcing Whumpee to come. You can’t force pleasure, can you?
Kisses. Everywhere. Telling Whumpee they’re loved. Trying to draw a reaction. Was that a moan of pleasure or a groan of irritation?
Or doing the opposite. Whumper fucking their Whumpee when nothing else seems to stir them. Wasn't originally in the plan, but, oh well. Plans change. Whumpee thinks they’re being bent over the table for a standard belting to the back. For the first time in weeks, they start to scream and fight when their clothes are forcibly ripped off and their legs are forced apart. But thank God they can still make noise, right?
it's an extremely fine line between wanting to put a tboy in a maid dress for evil reasons (not recognising or respecting them as men) and virtuous reasons (making a boy crossdress while he gets all blushy and embarrassed). once all the chasers are in a mass grave somewhere this should get a lot simpler so let's get to work everypuppy 👍
One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Pride Edition - Part 1 of 7
Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.
832 words; I love Yamato bc he is such a himbo it’s delightful; this is one of the cutest and fluffiest pieces I’ve done in a bit; if anyone is here to argue about Yamabro’s pronouns they will get jettisoned into space okay thanks
[FFN]/[AO3]
Day One: Stargazing | Rain - YamatoHiyori [832 words; G]
It was after twilight as Yamato found himself spreading a blanket out on the grass, Hiyori holding a picnic basket and lantern next to him. He wondered why they were there as they slipped out of their geta and sat down.
“Isn’t it a bit late for a picnic?” he asked. Hiyori put the lantern down on the blanket and gave him a soft smile.
“Not entirely,” she replied, a light chuckle on her lips that put him at-ease. “There are wonders to be had at night as well as the daytime.”
“People from the Flower Capitol sure like to do things different,” he shrugged. Yamato leaned back, looking up at the stars. “I don’t think I’ve had a picnic this late before.”
“Not even to see fireworks?”
“Ha—you know who my dad is—fireworks weren’t exactly when I was having fun.”
“I see.” Hiyori began to occupy herself with the contents of the basket, pulling out a pair of cups and the thermal flask gifted by one of their foreign allies before their departure. Once the tea was poured, she laid out the bentos before taking one for herself and beginning to eat it. “Well, then let me warn you: while you are Wano’s guardian deity, my brother and I shall expect you conduct yourself accordingly. You are truly of Wano now, and her people enjoy dates under the stars.”
“What did you think this was?” she asked, a sly smile tugging at her lips.
“I dunno; I’ve never done this before.” He opened his bento and saw the carefully-filled compartments filled with tasty things that made his mouth water. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“I learned during my time in hiding; the ability to make one’s own food is invaluable when it comes to both blending in and avoiding poisons.”
“Oh… never thought about it like that; thanks for the meal.” Yamato ate some of the food and it sent a shiver up his spine—it was so yummy! “I don’t know if I ever stole stuff this good when I lived on Onigashima!”
“I know the feeling.”
Feeling even more out-of-place than before, Yamato picked at his tempura. He was really awkward, wasn’t he? Kaido had tried to set him up with people since he was eighteen, but between him trying to run away and how boring or weird they were, nothing stuck. He would have never considered them dates, and yet now… he was on a date! Oh, he was on a date and they were having homemade bento under the stars… he was stupid for not piecing it together beforehand! Stupid, stupid, stupid…! He went to reach for his tea, only for Hiyori to place her hand on his so that they both held the cup. She took advantage of the fact it froze him and leaned forward, pressing a light, chaste kiss to his cheek.
“Oh! Uh… you are bold, Hiyori-san.” He took his tea and drank some, leaning back out of her reach. “Isn’t this awkward?”
“Now why would it be awkward?”
“I dunno… maybe that I’m Kozuki Oden…? You know… your father…?”
“You might have inherited my father’s will, but you are not him, and that is a good thing.”
“…but, I want to become like Oden some day!”
“I’m sure you will, but do remember that Oden was made to boil; like any good dish, it needs to be prepped as well.”
“Huh…?” Yamato blinked. “What do you mean…?”
“Oden is comprised of many things to make the dish,” Hiyori explained. She smirked as he gaped at her, unsure where the metaphor was going. “That was my father’s secret: he wasn’t Oden because of anything he did, but was only truly Oden when he filled his life with kind and loyal friends, like a chef making oden out of the finest master stock and ingredients.”
“I already have amazing friends—how could I possibly improve on that?”
“Let’s just call it a woman’s intuition.” She kissed him again, this time pressing their lips together. Yamato’s face flushed deep in blush—oh, it made his stomach flutter—and he tried to act cool, only to fail miserably and freeze up again as he mentally processed it. “Great things are in your future; I can feel it.”
“Y-Yeah…?”
“Of course.” Hiyori turned her face up towards the sky, taking in the stars above them. “Only someone great can inherit my father’s will, and my brother is not yet ready for it. That leaves only you, Yamato, and you have done an excellent job thus far.”
“I, uh, guess so…” Yamato looked up to see what Hiyori did and saw the heavens stretched out above them, stars scattered amongst the cosmic dust that stretched from one horizon to the next. “Maybe this was a good idea.”
“No maybe about it,” she smirked. Hiyori opened her bento and began to eat; it was a picnic, after all.
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part 5 of posting beast pirates bangin' (a poly beast pirates fic) one part per day.
first - previous
summary:
Yamato and Drake find out they have a similar relationship with their dads, kind of. They have a sleepover about it. Also Who's Who is a creepy little bastard and Sasaki is drunk.
im going to reiterate, huge trigger warning for child abuse for this one
After an away mission to Udon for a few days (he missed his bed so bad,) Page One headed up to Kaido’s sparring room. Now that Yamato had kind of reentered his life, he was eager to see him again.
What he wasn’t expecting was to hear strained cries from inside the doors. Yamato was screaming at the top of his lungs, somewhere close to the doors, and Kaido’s heavy footsteps were getting closer.
He ran back towards the stairs, just in time for Kaido to throw the door open. “And quit that whining!” He howled behind him.
Yamato’s scream shook his bones. Page One needed help. Didn’t Drake get home around this time?
It was a chance he took without weighing it. The only evidence he was running was the wind whipping his hair around, and when his brain caught up he was perched in a window overlooking the Live Floor. On the other side, no bigger than a fingernail clipping, was Drake. He jumped.
When he landed he was a spinosaurus, not an animal particularly built for falling five stories and then some but his brain had gone back on vacation. Drake saw him coming, shifted to meet him. Page One turned and ran, looking over his shoulder to make sure Drake was following. He was, and soon enough they were back to human, huffing and puffing up the stairs.
“What is it?”
“Yamato, something wrong with Yamato.”
They busted into the training room. Drake tore off his jacket, his back shining with sweat, cursing to some god Page One didn’t recognize. Yamato was curled up with his head between his knees, still heaving breaths but no longer wailing.
“Yamato? What’s going on?” When he didn’t respond, Drake sat beside him, pulling him against his chest without regard for his horns almost impaling him. Yamato’s wrists looked bad today, pink, raw bits of skin peeking out of his heavy sleeves as he pulled Drake towards him.
“Kaido running his mouth again?” If he didn’t say it so quietly Page One would be taken aback at him talking as flippantly as Ulti does.
Yamato just held him closer.
“It’s hard, isn’t it? When it’s coming from your dad.”
Page One cocked his head. Drake’s fingers carded through the fur on Yamato’s mask, eyes tracing the lines he made. He had opened a door to them, and he wasn’t particularly happy about it, but he did it anyway.
“Your dad too?” Yamato gasped.
He nodded. “Our situations aren’t similar; X Barrels wasn’t the Most Powerful Creature or anything close. He used to be the perfect dad. I should have known something was wrong when he abandoned the marines to become a pirate and he took me along at the tender age of nine, but he was great, he kept me fed, entertained. But at some point he started getting mad at me for little things. I would reach for a glass and he told me not to drink his booze, even though I wasn’t close to it. I’d break a plate on accident and he’d scream at me for half an hour telling me how much money I was wasting him. So I thought, if I was perfect, out of his sight, bringing in my own money even, he’d go back to the way I was. That’s how it is when you’re young, you think it’s your fault and not…well, whatever the hell it actually is.”
Yamato nodded, digging his fingers into Drake's ribs.
“There were highs and lows. Just when I thought he was turning around on me, he’d go back to treating me like garbage. And you see how he’s treating other people. You know you’re the only one getting treated like this.”
Yamato sobbed again. “He treats Jack more like a son than me! He loves King more than he’ll ever love me!”
“And he should be loving you. He should be praising you, you’re doing so well. You’re stronger than most of the marines I knew.”
“How come you knew so many marines?” Page One piped up.
“Oh, uh, after I ran from my dad, I joined the marines. It’s what you did back then.” Page One knew about that, having joined the most powerful group in his land as soon as he could.
“Maybe I should join the marines,” Yamato sighed. “If I jumped down the waterfall, do you think they’d catch me?”
“You don’t want to join the marines. You want to be free, don’t you?”
“I’d just desert like you did.”
“I’m just some guy compared to you. If they had Kaido’s kid, they would never let him desert.”
“You said I’m stronger than most of them.”
“I guess I do I know others who have been avoiding them for years. You can do it. Now how’s about we head up to the Tobi Roppo floor and get you cleaned up and bandaged?”
“I’d love to, but I haven’t eaten a full meal in like a week. I think that’s why I broke down.”
“Page One, can you get him something?”
It was a bit of a daunting idea, bringing things up to the fourth floor without spilling or letting anyone know they were for Yamato, but he’d do it. He nodded. “I’ll meet you up there.”
***
Fifteen minutes later, he was taking the stairs by twos carrying a tray in each hand. Something in him made him say the second meal was for Drake. Yamato hadn’t said it, but Page One was pretty sure he wasn’t allowed in the dining hall, not permitted to get ‘easy’ food like the rest of them. The thought made him nauseous, filled him with a despair so cold he felt like he should run from it. He just ran through the hallways quicker.
***
When he reached Drake’s room, Yamato’s mask was off, shirt undone, revealing bandages around his stomach. More wrapped around his outstretched arm, and Drake tied one off on his ring finger. “Be extra careful with this one; the pain you’re describing makes me think that you overextended it.”
“Sure thing!” He was as excitable as someone who, not even an hour ago, was incapacitated by a panic attack could be. “Ooh, dining hall food? What is it?”
Yamato held his portion on his lap, but Drake put his on the bedside table, standing to change into something more comfortable. Page One told him about the grilled mackerel and pumpkin, figuring he didn’t need to know what rice and miso were, as he settled onto the bed next to him.
Watching Yamato eat was a treat every time. He was gorgeous in any circumstance, but what really made it interesting was that he loved food. He lifted the mackerel with his bare hands and took a bite, chewing closed-eyed and appreciative, tasting every cell and grain of salt. He crunched through the charred skin and moaned at the combined flavors and textures. When the fish was gone he didn’t leave a scrap on his fingers, leaving them shiny with grease and saliva.
Next he went in on the rice, picking up the bowl with his bandaged hand and scooping it into his mouth with his good hand. Even this simple base he ate thoughtfully, chewing for longer than Page One had seen any other Beast Pirate, perhaps any other person. His mouthfuls were too big for the bowl, and he was done with it soon, but he picked out every grain of rice and popped them into his mouth.
The miso soup he downed quicker, and Page One’s eyes traced the bob of his throat as he swallowed. At the end he ground the seaweed between his teeth before swallowing that down too.
A little plate of boiled pumpkin was the last thing on his tray, and he picked it up with a grin, but then he set it back down. “I’m eating on your bed! Shoot, I didn’t mean to be so rude.” He made to stand up, but Drake, freshly changed into pajama pants and a comic book hero shirt, grabbed his arm.
“That’s alright. You’re almost finished anyway.”
“You eat too. I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”
“Sure.”
“Page One, have you eaten?”
“Yeah,” he lied. “I’m good.” He wasn’t hungry.
Yamato didn’t seem to buy it, but he started eating again anyway. Drake ate his own pumpkin at the same time, with his fingers, betraying that he was also watching Yamato. He divided his rice in two and handed half to Yamato, who took it gratefully.
“I would like to head to bed soon,” he told Yamato and Page One when he was finished eating, “though I’d be happy to have you two over another time.”
Yamato gasped. “Wait, I have an idea! What if we have a sleepover?”
“Sleepover?”
“Yeah! We can all sleep here together! It’ll be so fun, we can all swap stories—for a little bit, because I know you wanna sleep soon.”
Drake kissed the idea of an early bedtime goodbye, really. “Okay, sure. Sound good Page One?”
“Sure!”
Yamato squealed.
“Why don’t you go get on some pajamas and meet us back down here?”
“Okay!” He enveloped Drake in a hug before dashing out the door.
“Are you really okay with this?” Page One asked.
“It’s whatever. I don’t have an assignment for tomorrow yet, so I can afford to be a little frivolous.”
Page One chuckled at the big word.
Drake sighed and clapped a hand on his thigh. “You didn’t really eat, did you?”
“No.”
“Let’s get you something from the lounge.”
The chefs took extra care to keep the Tobi Roppo fed, so in the extra space in the part of the floor dedicated to them had a cushy lounge with a fridge full of snacks and something cooked. Tonight there was a cauldron of oshiruko over a fire. Drake ladled out a bowl for each of them. Page One settled on the couch and Drake didn’t touch him, but he laid his arm on the couch behind him. Page One got that tingly feeling he did when he touched his neck; between that, the hot soup he had provided and wearing his shirt, he felt cozier than he had in years.
Who’s Who was already here when they arrived. His massive, statuesque shape hunched in the window, staring at the moon. Smoke from his cigarette curled around his horns. He was the kind of person that made Page One believe that devil fruits chose their users—he could always imagine a cat tail twitching behind him. He considered calling him over to be polite, but Who’s Who wouldn’t be polite back.
He turned around of his own accord though, stretching and striding to the couch across from Drake and Page One. He didn’t pour himself any soup, just stared straight ahead with those yellow bug eyes.
“How have you been, Page One? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“I’m good. Happy to be back home after an away mission. Is that where you’ve been too?”
Who’s Who hummed. “Been in the jungle. Kaido wanted me to figure out whether it’s worth bulldozing to turn into farmland.”
“What do you think?”
“I think some of it could go, but it’d fuck up the island’s livability too much to fully destroy. I’ve got until tomorrow morning to figure out how to pitch that to him.”
“Good luck.” Page One bit into a particularly large piece of mochi. It dripped down his lip and chin, and he knew Who’s Who was going to say something before he did.
“So I’ve heard you’re sleeping your way through the Tobi Roppo. When’s it going to be my turn?”
Page One didn’t flinch, but he felt significantly colder. He didn’t like the thought of people talking about what he did in the bedroom behind his back, but winning stupid prizes was part of playing stupid games. “It’s just coincidence it’s only been Tobi Roppo so far.”
“So far? Baby boy’s got a list of conquests a mile long then?”
“I don’t have a plan. Sorry to disappoint.” Please stop talking, please stop talking. He felt Drake’s arm shift behind him.
“No plan? Then you wouldn’t mind coming to my quarters tonight?”
“I’m not going to sleep with you. I’m not part of the dick measuring contest between you and Sasaki.”
Who’s Who ingested this. His lips curled into an ‘o’ and he exhaled a stream of smoke before his sly grin returned. “You’ve got a sharp tongue. I wouldn’t have thought that from the way Ulti covers for you all the time.”
He didn’t think it was all that sharp. “I don’t ask her to do that; she just speaks first.”
“What are the chances of you two doing a duet performance?”
“That’s inappropriate,” Drake informed. “You should apologize.”
Page One hadn’t figured out what the fuck he meant by that, but if Drake thought it was bad then it probably was.
“Not inappropriate, just kinky.”
“You need to ask consent before you engage in kink.”
“Did I not just ask consent?”
Page One focused far away, on heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.
One cigarette down, and he produced a second. “You smoke, Page One? I can light one for you.”
He shook his head, put his bowl down and stood up. “I’m still hungry.”
Before Who’s Who could make any smart remarks he walked over to the fridge. They had fresh grapes, crab dip, bottles of tea and weird sweet drinks. The footsteps in the distance got closer. He opened the dip, scooped some out with his fingers and scraped it into his mouth. Who’s Who muttered something to himself, and he pretended it didn’t sound like “he is a boy after all.”
“What did I miss here, hehe?” New voice. Sasaki. Drunk.
“Who’s Who has an incest kink,” Drake said flatly.
“Woah, tattletale!”
“Dude, fuckin’ gross. I’m kink shaming.” He sat beside Drake, lifting the lid off the soup before replacing it. “‘Ey Page One, what’ve we got in the fridge?”
“Crab dip. Squid crackers too, if you wanna make weird fucking nachos.”
“Mmm, weird fuckin’ nachos. Le’s do it.”
He brought the crab dip over and Sasaki picked up the cauldron of soup and chugged it. Drake, Who’s Who and Page One looked on, astonished—there wasn’t that much soup, so the quantity wasn’t tremendously impressive, but it had just come off a fire—what kind of heat tolerance was that?
He wiped his mouth and then offered the cauldron to Page One. “Put the dip in here.”
“It’ll still taste like soup.”
Sasaki waved his hand. “No way, I ate all the soup.”
“How many drinks have you had?” Who’s Who hissed.
“Oh I’m so hydrated dude. I’m so hydrated.” He answered with a smile at first, but then looked into the distance, as if pouring every braincell into counting.
Drake stood up. “Page One, I’m going to head back. Come in whenever you like.” He stooped to kiss Page One between the horns, then left.
“That’s a weird place to kiss someone,” Sasaki chuckled. “If, if I was gonna kiss someone it would be on the mouth, probably. Or on the pussy, hehe.”
“Enlightening,” Who’s Who scoffed.
Page One scraped the crab dip into the cauldron, deciding to simply not eat the soup-contaminated parts. “Where have you been Sasaki?”
“Oh, the Flower Capital. Kyoshiro needed to do something wiff Kom—Komushi—that pretty girl he’s got, so he asked me to take care’f the brothel for a couple of days. When he came back he gave me so much sake.” He rubbed his belly and giggled. “And a blowjob.”
“Oo-kay, Page One, you’re on your own.” Who’s Who stood to his full enormous height and walked off. His bedroom door closed behind him with a snap.
“Where’d he go?” Sasaki asked.
“To go jack off or something.” He sat down next to Sasaki and curled into his side. “He’s so fucking annoying.”
“What did he do?”
“I think he misgendered me earlier.” One of several atrocities he’d committed, but maybe the easiest to discuss with a drunk man.
“Wuzzat?”
“I don’t think he sees me as a boy.”
“What a stupid guy.”
Page One buried his smile in Sasaki’s stomach. It was just that easy.
“C’n you get the dip? I think it’s bubbling.”
“Why can’t you get it?”
“I think I burned my hands earlier.” Oh no.
“Yeah I can.”
He scooped it into a bowl and gave Sasaki the package of crackers. He tore it open with his teeth.
The two ate in silence for awhile, polishing off all the crackers and opening more.
Page One was pleasantly full by the end of the dip, and Sasaki placed a giant hand on Page One’s stomach. At some point he heard Yamato come back to this floor and head to Drake’s room, but he figured Drake could entertain him.
“Where’s Ulti?” Sasaki asked finally.
“I don’t know. She was on assignment with me until earlier today.”
“Wait—wait, that’s not what I mean. I mean, I saw her.”
“You saw her?”
“When my boat came in I saw her heading towards the Pleasure Hall. Did you know she was going there?”
“No.” He thought back to a much less inebriated Sasaki, telling him to go there to find out what he liked. Is that what Ulti was doing? Or was she asking Black Maria how to get him to stop? They hadn’t talked much about this while they were in Udon; they had mostly fallen back into their regular dynamic. “Thanks for telling me, Sasaki.”
“Sure.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yeah, if you want.”
He sat on Sasaki’s thigh, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressed their lips together. Sasaki’s hands covered his back (they must not have been that burnt.) His breath tickled Page One’s upper lip. He felt at peace.
When he pulled away, Sasaki tucked his head into the crook of his shoulder.
“Let me up, Sasaki. I’ve got to go to sleep.”
“You gotta?”
“Yeah. We can cuddle again some time.”
“Good.”
***
Yamato was wearing Oden pajamas. Like, his own clothes, but cut and sewed to look like Oden’s. He also had far too much energy for this time of night: he had been content to read Drake’s reptile book, but when Page One came in he spun around, bounced on the bed, tried to swing Page One around.
“Now if we’re going to have a sleepover, you’ve got to settle down,” Drake asserted, already under the covers.
“Alrighty!” He picked up Page One and launched them onto Drake’s bed, bouncing him a foot into the air.
“Settle down,” Drake grumbled. “You said you had something you wanted to show us?”
“Oh yeah!” He reached under his pillow, producing a ragged yellow book. “Ta da! It’s Oden’s journal!”
Page One and Drake’s eyes bulged out of their heads as he flipped through it casually. “I like this page because it has smudges of his makeup,” he pointed to the edge, which displayed smeared, bright red fingerprints. “The first fifty pages are him talking about his childhood and everything before he started journaling, and then it becomes stuff that happened the same day. The biggest section is his travels with the Whitebeard pirates. I wanted to meet them, until. You know.”
They waited for him to continue, but his eyes were staring somewhere else.
“Plenty of them are still out there,” Drake tried, “even the officers. Izou is from Wano; he might return one day.”
“If I could open the borders, they might feel more welcome. Shoot, I brought down the mood, didn’t I.”
“Tell us one of the nice stories,” Page One suggested.
He seemed to have one in mind. “This is the page where he and Lady Toki started falling in love. He writes things she said like it was poetry, and I don’t know if that’s really how she talked, but I like it.” He read a few pages to them—the whole thing was poetic, really. Yamato read every line like a prayer. Page One read with him, resting his head on Yamato’s muscular bicep.
At some point he trailed off and closed the book. “It goes into a love scene after that. It’s kind of embarrassing to read out loud.”
The flush on Page One’s face made Drake think he had started reading it. He pulled Page One back against him, kissing the back of his head.
“Oden was one hell of a guy,” Drake remarked.
“You’re not as into him as I am though, are you?” Yamato asked sheepishly.
“I’m just tired. I’m sorry.”
Yamato hugged the book to his chest, mirroring Drake with Page One. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“Hey, don’t be.”
“Yamato?”
“Yeah Page One?”
“I want to hear more in the morning. I liked hearing about his tiny wife because some day I’m gonna be somebody’s tiny wife.” He laughed at his own joke, meanwhile Yamato buzzed with excitement.
“Oh my days, we could role play!”
“What was it she said?” He wriggled out of Drake’s grip and laid on Yamato’s tummy, arching his back and pursing his lips in a kissy face. “I’ve found my destination in you?”
Yamato squealed, setting the book aside and hugging him instead.
“If you two are going to fuck, do it somewhere else,” Drake muttered, face half in his pillow.
“Sorry! Sorry. We can pick this up another time.”
“Give me back my weighted blanket.” He tugged at Page One’s (his own) sleeve.
Page One transferred over to lay on him. Yamato replaced the book under his pillow and wrapped his arm around both of them.
“Do you want to role play too Drake? Oden had a lot of orgies.”
“I’ll stay Drake. I’d be happy to join when you two aren’t role playing.”
Yamato, for some reason, ran a thumb over Drake’s cheek and pinched it. “Hehe. Thank you Drake, thank you for everything.”
“Page One and I have talked about you. We’re glad to have gotten you in here with us.”
Yamato squealed again. He kissed Drake’s cheek, and then Page One’s. They all fell asleep too close, breathing in each others’ warmth.
Werewolf!Yamato x werewolf!reader. This is part one of two. (moodboard)
This fic discusses matters of slavery, captivity and abuse.
*****
When the kunoichi met him, Yamato was in his room in the Shogun’s palace, drying his hair after a long training session - and consequent, much needed, bath.
“Hello, Shinobu. What…?”
“Have you seen her?”
Yamato blinked, the damp towel still in his hands, and immediately tensed as he noticed the kunoichi’s serious, even anxious, expression.
“Seen who?”
“At the market.”
A long moment of silence followed, as Yamato, now busy putting his sandals on, reflected on the question. The Flower Capital’s market was renowned for the many goods sold in its stalls -especially after Shogun Momonosuke had officially opened the borders of the country to the world, which had brought traders from places far and wide to come to Wano to trade- but he had never seen anything particularly alarming there, beyond a seller and a buyer arguing over the quality of the potter’s creations, or the unjustified rise in the price of plums. Nevertheless, Shinobu looked deeply upset, and Yamato knew her well enough to know that agitation was most likely justified.
The room they were in was situated on the third floor of the palace, in the heart of the Flower Capital. Yamato, who had just been named the Shogun’s bodyguard, had moved there on Momonosuke’s request, but he had never cared much for interior design, which is why the large, bright room was more than sparsely furnished. Yamato had brought in his bed from his father’s old castle -he had slept there for twenty years, except one night every twenty-eight, and knew getting used to another mattress would have been impossible- placed a folding screen to separate it from the rest of the room, put all his clothes and other things in a large chest, and hung a large portrait of Oden, painted on a good quality scroll, on the wall, before declaring he didn’t need anything else. And six months later, he still didn’t.
“Shinobu, what is wrong?” Yamato asked, a moment before a terrible thought filled his mind “Is Hiyori alright?”
Momonosuke had left two weeks before for his first official visit to several nearby kingdoms, with the goal of establishing a diplomatic and trade alliance between them and Wano; Yamato was supposed to go with him, but the young Shogun had asked him to remain home to look after his sister, who would rule the land in his absence and had recently experienced a kidnapping attempt at the hands of a small band of rogues, Kaidou’s former supporters who had escaped imprisonment. Yamato, who had looked forward to leave Wano for the first time in his life, had relented to his lord and friend’s wishes; he was very fond of Hiyori, and there were worse things than spending an evening accompanying her to the theatre, or making sure the many people who came to the palace for an audience carried no weapons and meant her no harm.
“What? No, the lady is fine.” Shinobu, who today wore a light blue bodysuit rather than her usual pink one, quickly answered; she looked more anxious by the minute “I’m talking about the woman in the cage.”
“The what?”
“Come with me.”
Yamato wasted no more time in grabbing Takeru from where he had placed it against the wall and then following the kunoichi out of the room.
*****
The market was, as usual, an exciting place full of things to see and buy, dozens of stalls selling the most diverse goods, carts of sweet treats surrounded by children, artisans waiting for clients with clothes to fix and tools to repair, and street artists gathering donations. Had he the time, Yamato would have liked nothing better than strolling around, enjoying the pleasant weather as he waited for some bauble to catch his fancy or ate a candy apple on a stick, but whatever Shinobu wanted to show him had to be very important, and not in a good way, and he couldn’t help feeling anxious.
“There.” the kunoichi said, pointing to a large octagonal pavilion that had been erected in a small plaza, right in the heart of the market district. As they pushed their way through the small crowd surrounding it, men and women bumping into others to catch a glimpse of whatever was being put on display in the center, Yamato could catch snippets of conversations going on around him “I have never seen anything like this!” “Can you believe something like her actually exists?” “She looks so normal, and yet…”
Whatever Shinobu had dragged him there to see, it had already caused much excitement among the people of the Flower Capital; it was… intriguing, in a sense, but Yamato felt tense, his instinct, the one that belonged to the part of him that usually remained dormant since he had learnt to control it but that always remained vigilant inside him, urging him to prepare, because the thing that was going to appear in front of his eyes in a minute would be so amazing, so utterly overwhelming, it would destroy everything he thought he knew about the world…
“Are those Marines?” he asked, surprised, as he noticed the uniformed men standing guard along the pavilion’s perimeter, the bad feeling inside him mounting to border on alarm. Wano was, at least for the time being, unaffiliated to the World Government, and while its agents were technically free to enter the country, Yamato couldn’t think of a single reason for their presence - a reason, at least, that did not represent a danger for Wano and its people.
“And that is not the worst of it.”
“Shinobu, will you tell me what is happening?”
The kunoichi shook her head, her expression as tense as Yamato felt. “It’s better if you see it with your own eyes.”
Reaching the front of the crowd was no easy feat, but a few people recognised Yamato, both as the Shogun’s bodyguard and one of the heroes who had freed Wano from Kaidou, and allowed him and Shinobu to pass.
It was then that he saw her; saw, and smelt, the woman’s scent reaching him with the sudden violence of a fist to the gut. It had been years since the last time Yamato had felt it, the scent similar but not identical to his own, and he couldn’t believe it, no, it couldn’t be true…
The cage at the center of the pavilion was barely large enough for a person to be able to stand and lay down, the structure made indestructible by Ryuo imbuement; it had been placed on a wooden pedestal so as to offer the crowd a better view.
But Yamato paid little notice to the cage, his gaze immediately focused on the person inside it, clearly kept there against her will. She was naked, her body barely covered by the blanket the woman desperately tried to hide behind, her eyes full of helpless rage as she looked all around, screaming in a language Yamato did not understand, even though he could easily recognise the sentiment expressed in those words: release me! You have no right to keep me here! Let me go!
“I… I can’t believe it…”
She didn’t seem to have smelled him -Yamato wondered vaguely if the reason was the presence of so many other people nearby, or his recently taken bath; he had used a scented soap- maybe because she was too upset and scared to notice, but before Yamato could step any closer to attract the woman’s attention, a loud voice filled the pavilion, making them both wince.
A man wearing a Marine coat had walked up to the side of the cage, lifting his arms to command the crowd’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he began; it was a mature, relatively short individual, a bandage covering his left eye “I thank you for your patience; the show is going to begin in a minute, so please come closer; there is some space here in front of me.”
“He has been doing it since this morning, once an hour; he clearly likes the attention.” Shinobu muttered “The whole city is talking about it. I… I thought you’d want to know.”
Yamato nodded, his eyes still trained on the man who, acting more like a master of ceremonies than a Marine officer, was still inviting the spectators to come to the forefront; the woman in the cage was glaring at him, hate and resentment burning in her gaze, but he ignored her, preferring to smile proudly as he looked at the crowd hanging from his lips.
“The show you will witness now is something that has no equal in the world.” the man continued, the affected authority in his voice quickly captivating his audience “Something that was thought to have disappeared from the world centuries ago, but that I, Commander Ophelio of the Marines, was able to find, and bring back to light. The wonder I present to you here transcends what you until now thought true; a creature that has long been relegated to fables and legends, and that is now here, real, in front of you. I must ask you not to scream, and to keep your children close; you are perfectly safe, but our… attraction can become very aggressive.”
The warning, clearly aiming to excite the crowd’s interest rather than to reassure it, made Shinobu groan; Yamato didn’t move. He was focused on the woman, whose scent had awoken in him something he would have been unable to describe in words, a callback to a past he had never lived, a greeting that was recognition, request for help and offer of friendship in one. It was pleasant, even… attractive, in a way Yamato, who had never paid much attention to that sort of matter, did not know how to describe, and that had nothing to do with the fact the woman was naked under her blanket.
I am here. I am like you. This was what her scent was telling him, without the need for words, and Yamato felt his eyes fill with tears. After all, those like him -like them, everything seemed to suggest- were usually sociable creatures, at their happiest in the company of their own kind; he had never realised how much he had missed it, and he had planned to search for others of his own kin once he’d be free to leave Wano, but his father had told him there was no one else like him in the kingdom, and he had never imagined, not even in his wildest dreams, that one day things might change…
An excited shiver ran through the multitude gathered around the cage; several people craned their necks to get a better look, and the children, none of whom looked even remotely intimidated by the Marine’s warning, slipped between the adults to approach or asked their parents to be lifted on their shoulders. The excited chattering that had filled the pavilion abated; silence fell, as if every single person present were holding their breath.
Ophelio smiled proudly, openly delighting in the way he had captured the crowd’s attention. “Look at her.” he went on, emphatically pointing towards the woman, who in turn glared at him, baring a perfectly human set of teeth in a snarl “A young woman like many can be found in this fair city, not much different from your daughters and sisters; at least, this is what she appears to be, even though her fair appearance hides a very different nature. Look…”
The Marine met the woman’s eyes and clapped; he waited, they all did, but she remained still, defiant, still huddled in her blanket but with her back ramrod-straight; Yamato had no idea what vicissitudes had led the woman to be captured, but it was clear Ophelio was far from having bent her.
A full minute passed; no one moved.
Ophelio, looking more and more hassled, clapped two more times, glaring menacingly at the woman, who in turn grinned, openly amused, once more ignoring what was clearly an order she had recognised; even though she appeared not to understand the language, she knew she was embarrassing him and looked quite proud of it.
“So? Is she going to do something or what?” one spectator complained; someone else laughed, and two women turned to walk away.
“Just a moment, good people of Wano!” the Marine exclaimed, smiling broadly at his public before nodding in the direction of one of his men, who readily handed him what at first glance Yamato mistook for a coil of rope; Ophelio grabbed it…
“NO…!” Yamato cried, just as Shinobu pressed her hand to her mouth in horror.
The woman did her best to shield herself, but her captor was able enough to hit her through the bars of her cage, and the whip left angry red marks on her arms and chest; she cried in pain and, letting the blanket fall to the ground, she grabbed the bars, shaking them with enough force to make the Ryuo-imbued metal strain. She screamed, the rage and hate and helpless pain evident in her voice despite the language barrier, but Ophelio raised his whip-armed hand and lashed her two more times, leaving the woman lying on the floor of her cage, trembling in pain.
Some people in the crowd murmured in disapproval; a few parents led their children away, and a couple of men even raised their voice to blame the commander, and were quickly hushed by the Marines. Ophelio smiled affably at them, clearly anxious not to lose his crowd’s attention or sympathy.
“Your pardon, ladies and gentlemen!” he exclaimed “And please do not be troubled! Those like her are notoriously rebellious beings, and the whip merely helps to keep them tame. The creature you see here is not human, and feels no pain like you or I do.”
“I cannot bear to look; this is monstrous.” Shinobu murmured, misty-eyed. Yamato agreed; part of him, that part of him especially, would have wanted nothing better than to grab the weapon out of the man’s hand and to whip him to within an inch of his life, or even better to take the matter in his own hands, and fangs, but his instincts ordered him to wait, at least for the time being.
He remained still as Ophelio clapped once more, slowly, as he stared at his victim as if daring her to defy him once more; the woman sighed, and then slowly stood, showing herself to the public, who stared silently, captivated.
Her naked body was now in full display, but all Yamato’s gaze noticed was the cuts, some of them barely days-old or even more recent, and the bruises that littered her skin; the poor woman had clearly been beaten by her captor, whipped and subjected to who knew what other forms of abuse, to break her will and force her to obey. Yamato heard Shinobu sob by his side; he tensed, ready to attack, ready to make the Marine rue the day he was born, ready to fight whoever would dare to oppose him in order to free the woman from her cage. He didn’t care about the consequences, at the moment he didn’t even particularly care about who or what the woman was; no one deserved such treatment, to be caged like an animal and tortured for the amusement of a crowd.
He was ready; he would free the woman, Yamato decided, and ask Shinobu to take her to safety as he fought the Marines. He tensed, feeling a ripple run through his body as he prepared to shift, his nails elongating in claws as soft white fur started to grow under his clothes…
… and a moment later the woman tensed and started to sniff, at first cautiously, as if unsure of what she thought she had perceived, and then more and more energetically; she looked around, searching for the source of the scent her nose, much more sensible than that of a normal human even when she hadn’t shifted, had picked up, and then finally her gaze met Yamato’s, and the world came to a stop.
She stared, her eyes wide open, surprise etched on her face, a surprise that a moment later blossomed into both relief and pain as she realised the real meaning of that new discovery. She cried something in her language; Yamato shook his head to communicate the fact he couldn’t understand her, and was about to attempt mind-speak when they both noticed Ophelio raising his whip threateningly once more. The woman winced; she lowered her head, and started to shift.
Soft but thick fur, the same colour as the woman’s hair, started to cover her naked skin, while the muscles and bones under it changed shape. Her limbs became smaller, her hands and feet changed into clawed paws, and her face, also covered in fur, elongated into a muzzle; her now pointed ears shifted to the top of her head, and her human mouth gave way to jaws capable of gutting a man with a single bite.
The creature, at the moment neither human nor animal -and she was neither of those things, a now painfully tense and shivering Yamato thought; she was something different, something special and unique and he felt elated and desperate at the same time as he regarded her, forced to appeal to every drop of self-control in his possession to remain lucid. He wasn’t in danger of losing control and shifting himself, fortunately he never had since she had taught him well, but he felt his body responding to hers, as if they were the two opposite poles of a magnet, the creature inside him screaming and begging to be allowed to come out as well, to help, to save, to fight and kill whoever dared to oppose him- and by now unable to remain standing, fell on all fours and arched her back, allowing the stunned crowd to observe the long, fur-covered appendage that had grown above her buttocks.
“Oh, my God…” Shinobu murmured.
The whole transformation only took a couple of minutes, and in the end the large she-wolf who had taken the woman’s place lifted her head, her muzzle now brushing against the ceiling of the cage she barely fit in, and howled, a long, piercing note that seemed to shake the pavilion and fill the plaza surrounding it. Despite the pain the woman had endured, the sound felt neither submissive nor oppressed, and the strength it expressed led many spectators to step back.
The creature was large, heavier than any real wolf, with large shoulders and long legs that could sustain her as she chased after her prey; her long tail brushed against the floor, her elegant face held high as the creature observed the crowd that stared right back at her, astonished, deceptively calm as her muscles tensed under her fur-covered skin.
Unfortunately, at the moment she was unable to run anywhere, or to hunt or to do anything else, and the she-wolf, whose human intelligence was still evident behind her yellow eyes, was as aware of the fact as her human counterpart had been a moment before. She growled, the sound quiet but menacing, baring fangs long enough to pass a man’s arm from side to side, and walked around the now tiny cage, clearly unnerved, before returning to observe Yamato, who smiled at her, open awe on his face.
The Marine gave his public a minute to admire the caged creature before speaking again. “A werewolf.” he announced, clearly pleased with himself “One of the few left in the world, and the first whose existence has been documented in more than a century. Unlike what legends hold, she is able to shift whenever she wants, rather than only on full moon nights. Come closer, the cage is solid enough to contain her.”
Several people accepted the invitation, crowding around the cage to observe the she-wolf, who clearly did not appreciate the attention and kept howling and growling at them, nervously clawing at the cage’s floor and turning on herself in search of a position that protected her from the prying gazes.
“Is she able to speak in this form?” a woman excitedly asked; Ophelio smiled indulgently, as if to ignore the stupidity of the question.
“I’m afraid she can’t; in any case the woman does not speak our language, which means she wouldn’t be able to communicate even if she could.” he explained “On the other hand, she is able to understand and follow orders. Look…”
He looked towards the she-wolf, lifting his free hand with the palm upwards as he eloquently nodded in the direction of the whip he held in the other. The creature whined, as if lamenting the squalor of the state she had been reduced to, and then rolled on her back, waving her paws the way dogs did when they played. Several people laughed.
“What do you think?” Shinobu wondered under her breath, but Yamato’s only answer was a shake of his head. He felt unable to speak, his heart full of a torment he did not remember ever experiencing since he was ten, torment and heartbreak for that poor, innocent creature who had been captured, abused and forced to make a fool of herself for the amusement of a heartless crowd. A doom that, had things gone differently, could have been his as well “We need to do something, we need to help her…”
Standing once more, the she-wolf looked at him; her eyes were yellow, as was natural for her -for their- kind, but something human still shone behind them, a lively intelligence and depth no animal could experience, and when she sniffed avidly, filling her lungs with the stifling air of the patio, Yamato knew she hadn’t simply seen him. The she-wolf, and the woman who shared her soul and half of her body, had perceived him, recognised him as one of her own, from his scent, different from that of the people surrounding them, but familiar. Now she knew as well… and that explained why the wolf’s bright yellow eyes were fixed on him.
Yamato moved without rationally deciding to, led by an impulse that was half instinct and half an irresistible attraction, platonic but visceral, towards her. Only partially aware of his body, he pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered in front of him, insensitive to the complains and shoves he received; he kneeled in front of the cage, and the she-wolf immediately crouched down, her face at the same level as his, her bushy tail swaying gently behind her massive body. Neither moved for several seconds; the wolf bared her fangs in what was unmistakably a smile that Yamato immediately reciprocated. He lifted his hand…
“Hey! No touching…!”
… and extended it through the bars of the cage, towards the she-wolf. He didn’t pet her -she was a predator powerful and quick enough to bite off any appedange whose touch she had deemed inappropriate, after all, not a domestic dog to keep on one’s lap, caress and fed morsels to- but remained still as the creature sniffed him with interest and then, finally satisfied, pushed her large head against his palm.
“I’m very glad to meet you.” Yamato said; he hadn’t used mind-speak since his mother had passed, but it seemed to be one of those abilities one never forgot once they had learned it “And I am so, so very sorry.”
The she-wolf whimpered in response, a sound that expressed anguish rather than fear, the helpless rage of a creature who knew she was being treated unjustly but had no way to rectify the situation. She licked his hand in greeting and then bent her head, as if embarrassed that one of her kind was witnessing how low she had stooped, and then started to shift back to human, eliciting a new awed murmuring from the crowd, which both Yamato and the she-wolf ignored. Her muzzle retracted into the woman’s face, whose naked skin appeared as her thick fur disappeared under it; a minute later she was fully human once again, her claws having given way to shorter, innocuous nails and her limbs now able to support her body in an upright position.
Nevertheless, the woman didn’t move, still holding Yamato’s eyes in her own, oblivious to the dozens of people avidly staring at them.
“You are like me.” she mind-spoke to him, the message clear despite the language barrier. Yamato nodded, aware that while the least known ability of their kin would have allowed them to keep the conversation private, the time at their disposal was more than limited.
“I am. My name is Yamato, what about you? Have you been kidnapped?”
“I am named (name). Yes, they have taken me from my home, I tried fighting them off but there were too many of them… I can’t understand what they are saying, and they did something to my cage that made it impossible for me to break it, and…”
“Yes?”
The woman -(name); he had never heard her name before, Yamato thought, which was fitting, since she was also the second of their kind he had ever met- bit her lip, looking suddenly uncomfortable.
“Do you have some food, by any chance?” she wondered “They give me so little to eat.”
Admitting her need, especially with someone she couldn’t call friend, was no small sacrifice for proud creatures like them, which proved how much she was suffering, Yamato thought, his heart full of anguish. Werewolves were as a rule stronger and more resilient than humans, immune to most diseases and capable of great efforts, but starvation would have taken its toll on anyone, especially if combined with days, maybe weeks, of the physical abuse whose signs (name) still carried on her skin.
“No, I’m sorry.” Yamato murmured, feeling ashamed despite himself. If only he had known, he could have brought her some food from the palace…
“Is she saying something to you, Yamato?” Shinobu murmured; the kunoichi had followed him to the forefront of the crowd, clearly horrified as she witnessed for the second time the terrible state the younger woman had been forced into.
“Her name is (name). She’s hungry, that bastard is starving her in order to weaken her.”
“Oh! Err…”
Both Yamato and (name)’s gazes, hers now fully human and no longer yellow but in which something feral survived, turned on the kunoichi. “What is it?” he asked, and blinked as he observed Shinobu produce, seemingly out of thin air, a small bag of sweets, a sort that was particularly popular among the children of the Flower Capital and that was often sold at the market.
“I, err, had come to the market to buy these.” Shinobu admitted as she opened the bag “They are my favourite. Give them to her.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course; she needs them more than me. I’m sorry I have nothing more nutritious to give.”
Yamato smiled at her in thanks before offering the bag to (name). “Eat.” he invited her “At least they’ll fill your belly.”
(name) didn’t need to be told twice. She shoved her hand inside the bag and quickly filled her mouth with sweets. Yamato saw her close her eyes, overwhelmed by the immediate, simple pleasure of the delicious taste filling her mouth; starving as she was, she would have probably eaten whatever she could get her hands on, but a delicacy like that, after who knew how long without a full meal, had to taste like heaven.
The wounds the whip had opened on her arms were still bleeding, Yamato noticed; shifting usually healed minor injuries, like bruises or cuts, on a werewolf’s body, and that it hadn’t happened was further evidence of the state of exhaustion (name) was in. He had to help her, he thought, as soon as possible; no matter how resilient she naturally was, there was no knowing how long the woman could resist the abuse and starvation her master was subjecting her to, not to mention she deserved better than to be forced to perform for the amusement of the crowd, locked in that tiny cage.
He had to get her out of there, whatever the price. But how?
As she stuffed her face with sweets, (name) was still looking at him - specifically, at his horns, no doubt wondering how a werewolf could have them and specifically, what happened to them as he shifted. The truth was they simply moved, like his ears, on the top of his head, which pleased Yamato; he was probably the sole horned werewolf in the world, and thought that made him look even more fearsome.
“Thank you.” she said after a while; a positive aspect of mind-speak was that it allowed the user to carry out a conversation as they ate “To you both.”
“(name) says thank you, Shinobu.”
“Oh, it was nothing.” the kunoichi answered, smiling at the younger woman, who shily reciprocated.
He had a handkerchief in the pocket of his hakama, Yamato suddenly remembered; he retrieved it, and offered it to (name). “You are bleeding.” he pointed out, and the woman reached out towards him, but their hands never got to touch.
“Hey, you! What are you doing?!”
The whip cracked between them, forcing them both to reflexively back off. The handkerchief slipped from Yamato’s fingers and fell to the ground, but (name) was quick to snatch it up and to hide it under her blanket, while her eyes rose to glare at Ophelio, who had walked a few paces away to speak to someone and had returned to the cage just in time to see his prisoner and one of the spectators staring silently -from his point of view- at and touching each other.
“What are you doing? Step away, I said!” he ordered; the affable master of ceremonies had disappeared, and the man’s eyes shone in rage “And what is that stuff? Why did you give her food?!”
Yamato was determined not to be cowed; he stood slowly, Shinobu silently backing him, as he faced the Marine, who was at least two feet shorter. Ophelio followed his own orders, taking a quick step back; he looked quickly around, noticing that while his subordinates were approaching, rifles in their hands, the crowd was still attentively following the conversation between him and the white-haired woman.
“I gave her food because she is starving! You are keeping an innocent woman in a cage like an animal, abusing her to keep her compliant!” Yamato accused, indignation heavy in his voice, speaking loud enough for the whole crowd to hear “How dare you? Who gives you the right to treat her like this?”
“And why do you care? What reason do you have to worry about her?”
Not lowering his gaze, Yamato felt Shinobu’s hand rest on his arm, a silent reminder of the need to choose his words carefully; he knew he would have confronted (name)’s captor in any case, but admitting that he had been so affected by her current situation because he belonged to her kind himself would have been a very foolish, not to mention dangerous, thing to do.
“I care because it’s wrong.” he insisted; his hands were itching, his instincts begging him to grab Takeru’s handle to beat that cruel little man to within an inch of his life, or even better, to shift and bite his head off, but Yamato forced himself to remain lucid “Because it’s cruel, and abusive, and inhumane. I don’t know where you come from, but taking another person as a slave is illegal in Wano; you need to let her go.”
The Marine smirked. “As you said, the laws forbid taking a person captive.” he pointed out “This creature is not human like you and me; she’s a werewolf, which means normal rules don’t apply to her.”
Yamato gaped. “But…!”
“Believe me, young lady, I did my research. The World Government has declared werewolves a protected species two centuries ago, when it was believed they had been almost hunted to extinction, but since this country is unaffiliated with it, and has never enacted a similar law of its own, what I am doing is perfectly legal.”
The other Marines approached and, while two of them kept her at gunpoint, another forced (name) to hand the sweet bag, still half-full, over; the woman snarled, and swore -it was evident from her tone, even though Yamato could not understand her- under her breath, but she complied, meeting Yamato’s eyes for a moment more before looking away, as if ashamed that one of her kind was witnessing the sorry state she was in.
“Yamato.” Shinobu murmured, touching his arm once more “We need to go.”
“He can’t get away with it!”
“I know! But arguing right now will not help your… friend. Let us decide what to do.”
Yamato wanted to argue that the two of them could easily best half a dozen Marines and their whip-armed commander, but he head to admit he couldn’t protect (name) -who, in her state, could not be of much use, especially if they didn’t instantly find a way to get her out of her cage- and at the same time battle her captors. He had to retreat, at least temporarily, and decide what to do.
He turned towards (name), who was again looking at him, heartbroken at having realised her defender was going to back down. “I’ll get you out of here.” Yamato told her; he had never felt so ashamed of himself, even though he rationally knew he had no fault “I promise.”
He received no answer; (name) retrieved her blanket to cover herself and hid her face under her arms, her abused body wracked by sobs.
“If you are so interested in my prey, young lady, you can try and buy her.” Ophelio pointed out; he was clearly pleased with himself, and Yamato would have given half of his blood to simply punch him in the face, just once “I’m holding an auction here in the city in three days; several affluent friends from all over the Grand Line will participate, but who knows, you might get lucky.”
Yamato didn’t answer; he turned around and walked away, Shinobu hot on his heels, his heart heavy with the same helpless, hopeless rage that he had seen reflected in (name)’s yellow eyes.
*****
Neither spoke until they had reached the Shogun’s palace; Yamato was fuming, and he felt worse with every step that carried him farther from (name).
“I didn’t even know there was still a law in Wano that allowed the enslaving and killing of werewolves.” he murmured in the end, turning towards the woman who had walked silently by his side, equally aghast at the scene they had witnessed “It’s… it’s monstrous.”
Shinobu nodded silently. “I am sure neither Shogun Momonosuke nor his father would have ever implemented it.” She pointed out softly “But as far as I know, there have been no werewolves in Wano for centuries, other than you, your mother… and now (name). The law had been all but forgotten…”
“... but is formally still valid, which means that bastard can take advantage of it to keep a person prisoner, abuse her and sell her to the highest bidder. I… I can't believe it!”
Nevertheless, the gravity of the situation was undeniable. Momonosuke could maybe intervene to stop Ophelio and free her prisoner, but even if they found a way to contact him it would take the young Shogun days to come back, more days than poor (name) had before her new master took her away. Ophelio had said that some of the participants to the auction would come from outside Wano, and it might be impossible to find her afterwards.
This wasn't fair; it was cruel and terrible and awful, but Yamato saw no way to rectify that injustice and this was driving him crazy. He had never felt so helpless in his life, but he couldn’t abandon (name), because in another life he could be the one caged and sold, deprived of his freedom and exploited for the amusement and greed of a heartless master.
He would have wanted to free her in any case, even if they were not among the few left of their kind, but Yamato was not in the habit of lying to himself, and he had to admit it: the idea of one like him kept prisoner and sold to the highest bidder was completely unbearable.
“We still have three days until the auction.” Shinobu reminded him softly “We will find a way to free her, Yamato, I promise.”
He nodded silently as he started climbing the steps that led to the palace’s entrance, unable to ignore the heavy sense of foreboding filling his heart.
cw: spitting, biting, rough sex, sub!sanji, squirting, high heels, lingerie, fem!reader, big dick!law, big dick!zoro, possessive behaviour
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Ace - hair-pulling
Ace is such a giver. He loves eating you out. He works his tongue over your folds before lowering down and dipping his tongue into your hole. What he lacks in strategy he makes up for tenfold in passion. He's eager to please. You writhe around with pleasure and, with nowhere to hold onto, your hands naturally slide onto his hair.
You don't catch the first time he grunts at the way you grip his gorgeous hair but, when you give a particularly harsh tug, he can't stop the moan that leaves his mouth in response to the stinging of his scalp. He knows he's been caught so he pulls away from your cunt to look at you.
“do that again”
You oblige, gripping his locks tighter and pushing his head back between your legs.
Law - biting
“We gotta be quiet, baby”, he whispers, covering your mouth with his hand. He has you against the wall in his room and is trying to keep you as quiet as possible so you don't get caught by any of his crew. His cock thrusts in and out of you, and it has you going delirious. You're deliciously stretched out that you can't help but moan into his hand.
Law isn't faring much better; the warm walls of your cunt squeeze his cock in a way that has him gripping the wall behind you. His orgasm is so close he can practically taste it. In the heat of the moment, with nothing else to muffle the sounds he makes, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. The pleasurable sting pushes you over the edge with him, and you all but scream into his palm.
When he finally catches his breath he leans back, keeping his arms out to steady you, and admires the red bite mark decorating your shoulder. The marks make a possessive fire ripple through his body.
“this looks so pretty"
Nami - lingerie
Nami loves shopping. She often ends up buying clothes she thinks you'll look pretty in, so it's no surprise to you when she returns to the sunny, waving a shopping bag around in front of your face. She leaves the room, wanting to be surprised when you put her gift on. You open the bag to see a pretty red lingerie set. It's beautiful, just the type of stuff you'd imagined Nami would be into. Delicate lace in a scorching red colour is right up her alley.
She walks into the room and it's as if she's seeing you for the first time. You look like a present, gift wrapped for her pleasure. She guides you to stand in front of her, between her legs, while she sits on the bed. She leans forward, pressing tender kisses to your stomach and hips as her hands trace the lace covering your most intimate areas. Her fingers slide under the back of the panties and she grabs two handfuls of ass to pull you on top of her.
Now that you're seated comfortably on her lap, she's at a prefect height to show some appreciation for your tits. She whispers sweet praises as she lines the edge of the pretty lace bra with kisses. She's never taken this long to undress you before and you already know she'll have you shaking and begging before she's ready to unwrap her pretty little present.
Robin - squirting
Robin has you seated on her lap, legs spread open by two of her ‘arms’. She has two more of her arms playing with your pussy; one hand slides in and out of your used cunt, which is sensitive from already cumming twice, and the other is rubbing your swollen clit. Her real hands are gripping your tits, squeezing them and rolling your nipples between her fingers.
You had mentioned off-handedly that you can squirt, and Robin was immediately fascinated. She quickly became obsessed with the idea of making you gush for her. Your body is thoroughly shaking, and her lips pressing messy, wet kisses to your neck and shoulders does little to soothe you. You can feel another orgasm buying, and you don't get the chance to warn her before you arch so hard you almost fall off of her lap. A gushing noise accompanies your heavy breaths.
She can't decide what captivates her more; the way your legs shake with overstimulation or the way you whine and whimper her name. Pleased with her results she brings her soaked hand up to her mouth and licks your release from her fingers.
Sanji - submission
Sanji has always had puppy-like qualities; he follows you around and is incredibly affectionate towards you at all times. His love for you borders on worship, and you're surprised it's taken this long for that dynamic to work itself into your relationship. He brings up the idea of dirty talk first, just simple degradation, but over time, he gets bolder and bolder.
He gets a collar so you can drag him around to where you want to be. He buys you shoes at every place so you can look the part when you step on him. He's happy to get on his knees and eat your perfect pussy until you're crying. He wants nothing more than to be at your service twenty-four-seven. He remembers the first time he submitted to you so clearly.
“Good boy,” you say, slipping two fingers under his collar and pulling him into a sloppy kiss. It's rare for him to hear the phrase without degrading words preceding it. He whines into your mouth, desperate to get some release after you've been teasing him all day. “you can let go now,” you say, pressing your heeled shoe against his crotch. Being the good boy he is, his body follows through, and he cums in his pants at the pressure under your shoe.
Zoro - spitting
“You like that?” Zoro asks as he drills into you. He likes to have you in missionary so he can watch your face while he fucks you. You grit a response out through your teeth, barely able to get the words out. Another deep thrust makes you moan wildly, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your open mouth looks so inviting to the swordsman who reaches one of his hands up to your face to grip your jaw. “keep that pretty mouth open for me”
Zoro doesn't know what comes over him but he spits into your mouth. It's gross and possessive, just like him. You whine at the feeling of his spit hitting your tongue and you feel his cock twitch at the sound. You thought he couldn't fuck you any harder but you're proved wrong when he readjusts his grip on your legs. He watches your throat as you swallow and the grin plastered on his face is demonic.
“that's so fucking hot, you're such a good girl” The image of you letting him corrupt and defile you with his spit spurs him on to his orgasm. He holds off the best he can until you cum and then he finally lets himself go, panting and leaving trails of saliva across your pretty skin.
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70% of the socially acceptible hornyposting on this website is bottomposting. let's normalize posting about like. glazing a bunnyboy like a cake. filling him like a doughnut. i don't know why those are both food euphemisms but you get the idea. cum in his pussy tuesday or whatever
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
I did it, the Bartolomeo x reader smut is posted. Have at it!
You, a member of the Straw Hat Crew, have been separated from your ship. Luckily, the Barto Club has made it their mission to get you back to the Thousand Sunny, and they've been treating you like royalty the entire trip. Their captain asks if there's anything he can do for you, and an idea hits.
rating: Explicit
tags: kissing, grinding, ambiguous oral sex, face sitting, reader insert, submissive Bartolomeo, dominant Reader, reader is a Member of the Straw Hat Pirates
no gendered pronouns used for reader (you/your only); reader's genitals are kept ambiguous
comparing tdick growth between trans guys but then insisting that it isnt fair because you both arent fully hard so you suck each other off to see who is actually bigger
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
ohh my god. I want to fight for dominance with another tboy top. wrestling him to the ground, grabbing his hair and slamming his head down. he doesn't care, he's already grabbed my throat and thrown me off him. he straddles me, pressing our crotches together and I force back a groan. we're both too competitive, this will keep going till we're exhausted and bloody and sloppily grinding against each others leaking cocks.
izzy806
blakekathryn
areudirty
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