🧸ྀི one piece men x f!reader, request here!
“Something doesn’t look right.”
You said that fifteen times already and Shamrock was getting tired of it. Still, he stood tall, and let you fuss over him. He knew your dotting came from a place of love, which is unusual given the circumstances of your marriage, he never expected to have you this close to him, caring, obsessing, or loving him - he saw you, he had to have you, and he took you with him by force. Still, he welcomed it nonetheless.
He’d rather have your hands on him than to yourself, with that stubborn glare he loves hates.
You brush his hair behind his shoulders and noticed the problem. The collar was facing inwards, not outwards, and there was a drop of blood on his shirt.
“Shamrock,” You say, and at your tone, he looked at what you were staring at. “What have I told you?”
“I’m not dropping anything. I’ve told you about a thousand times already—”
“Haha so funny, I’m dying of laughter.” You pull back. “Are you going to keep it on?”
Without wasting a breath, he takes off his coat, unbuttons his shirt, and lets it fall to the ground. You’ve seen him shirtless, you’ve seen more, still you blush like a virgin. You enter the closet and look through his shirts and when he follows after you, he placed his sword down on the table.
“Hm. Lovely.” You hand it to him. He slips it on. “Of all the white shirts you own, Sham, this one has to be my favourite.”
“Is that all?” He fixed the cuffs, struggled, and when you intervene, he watched you.
“Yes. I do need a few things so I’ll be—”
“I need to do some shopping, Shamrock.”
“Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answer to.”
You hum once, fix his cuffs, and take his sword. You observe it, then hand it to him.
“You should take better care of Cerberus.”
Without realising it, you break the pattern that followed.
You place your hand to his chest, and when he turns his head, expecting a kiss, you walk past him, in a daze to hurry off on your next task.
His hand paused, his eyes on the empty spot you once occupied. He put the sword in its sheath, and calmly walked towards you, not even realising his palms were sweaty until he pulled you into him for a kiss.
You kiss back, slightly surprised. Shamrock has never initiated a kiss in a domestic setting, it’s always during moments of your outbursts or intimate times.
“I’ll be back in 3 days. Keep the doors locked, don’t head outside. If you need something, I’ll go with you when I come back.”
“So I have to starve myself?”
“One of the guards will tend to your needs.”
“And what if they try to poison me?”
Shamrock was paranoid. The same way he used your issues to control you, you used his issues to get what you wanted.
“You’re saying it’s dangerous right?”
“I know what you’re doing. Stop.”
“Okay.” You shrug. “Guess the next time we see each other, I’ll be in a coffin.”
Something shifted on his face.
Then, he made a move to leave. You didn’t know if you had won or not until he spoke.
“Are you going to stand there? I haven’t got all day.”
Your face brightened and you force back a “yes” and rush to put your shoes on and when you were done, you loop your arm through his.
But the slight twitch on his lip gave everything away.
A vein threatened to throb on his forehead as you fix his coat for about the hundredth time that day. He wanted to snap at you to get you to leave him alone but if he was stubborn, what the hell were you?
You’d kill him then miss him too much and find a way to bring him back from the dead. Funny thing is, he had a feeling you’d succeed.
“You said that an hour ago.”
Your marriage wasn’t a normal marriage. You fought each other everyday but still came back to each other five minutes later, acting like nothing happened. You’d accept his back hugs with a frown, and let him rest against you whenever you were pissy at him. Then, Doflamingo would lay with you in bed to hear you rant about how awful he was as his hands massaged the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh.
You couldn’t see his eyes, but he could see yours, and they were perfect. So full of love, care and affection, he didn’t want to snuff it out, he wanted it to stay within you, and for you to never leave him.
So, when he instinctively wraps a string around your wrist, you don’t even flinch.
“I figured that out years ago.”
His coat was finally in a condition you were pleased with. He got up. You push him back down.
“Woman,” He hissed. “I have a meeting to attend. Move it will you?”
“Who are you talking to?” You snap. “Your hair’s a mess, Dof!”
“It’s still damp from my shower, woman, now beat it.”
He knew that glare all too well. He gave one right back to you.
Until he saw you move around your shared quarters to grab his products, and fix his hair for him.
Never has he ever been introduced to this type of love. Not even his mother showed him this much care and affection. Always asking about his day, cooking his meals, going out shopping and buying something for him, calling him when you were in trouble or in any sort of danger, he was the first person you always went to.
However, the only time you left him alone was to hang out with your friends.
So, in his eyes, they were a threat.
Any friend you made, they would go missing.
He knew you knew. You never acknowledged it.
He pressed his forehead to your chest.
You roll your eyes. He grinned.
Once his hair was to his liking, he never let you go.
Doflamingo pulled you onto his lap. Chuckling.
You roll your eyes again.
“I’m surprised they haven’t rolled into the back of your head and stayed there.”
He pressed his mouth to yours and when you kiss back, was he satisfied.
“Wait for me here. I’ll be done with the meeting as soon as possible.”
So, he leans in again, but this time, his mouth met your forehead.
“Come back with a better attitude.”
He barked out a laugh, grinning madly.
“Oh how I’m glad I found you.”
“Tsk, keep doing that and I’ll have you escorted out.”
The threat was real, Crocodile's done it about a hundred times, and every time it lead to the two of you not speaking, but he always got his way in the end by softening you up with sweet treats and the finest of treasures - and having him, of course.
You love your husband and he loves you. Still, his idea of love blurred between the lines of his personal and professional life. He loves you enough not to bring you down to the dirt with him which is why he had his prospects waiting outside whilst you were in here, per Crocodile's orders, out of fear they would hurt you.
“I’m almost done Crocy, your shirt is—” You tug at his green shirt and smooth out the wrinkles, smiling in delight. “There. Done.”
“Can we get on with the deal now?” Mihawk drawled, agitated that he had finished his wine.
One warning look from Crocodile got him to shut his mouth. He didn’t fear the man, Mihawk knew not to push his buttons when it came to what was Crocodile's.
In his shirt. Wearing his ring he put on your finger. With his cologne on.
“Name darling, we haven’t got all day.” Buggy says, using the pet name to agitate Crocodile. He yelped in shock at the glare sent his way. “You can’t do that to me, Croco-chan!”
“What have I told you about—?” He slammed his fist on the table and Buggy backed off, until you turn Crocodile’s face towards you, and wipe the cigar dust from his mouth.
Buggy was cackling like an idiot.
“You keep smoking yourself to your death.” You take the cigar out of his mouth and put it down. “Here.”
He leans forward for the whiskey instead.
“Woman, you’re testing my patience.”
“Fine.” You snap, uncrossing your arms, and storm off.
Crocodile dragged out a sigh and followed after you.
"Whipped." Buggy whispered to Mihawk, who only shrugged in response.
Crocodile used his sand to pull you back into him.
“You missed something.” He says, caressing your face in his hands.
“Aren’t you always?” He pressed his mouth to yours, chuckling against your mouth. “You always give in for me don’t you?”
“Cute.” He pulled back. “Wait for me in the bedroom. I’ll be there shortly.”
You wipe your mouth. He didn’t like that.
Still, he let you walk away.
He’ll deal with you and your attitude after his meeting.
