Miscellaneous 

─ Binding Shots

yandere! zoro x bartender! reader [gender neutral]

• fic type: oneshot

• summary: zoro couldn't get enough of the drinks you served, but he couldn't get enough of you even more.

• word count: 2.7k

• tw: obsessive thoughts, kidnapping, passing out

• a/n: i hope i didn't get too carried away and i really hope you enjoy this story!! i also may have included a little yandere captain luffy headcanon, since he pretty much gives zoro the ok to pursue y/n. also if i find the time i might make headcanons about y/n getting used to being with the strawhats, and more importantly zoro!

The bar pulsed with energy, the air thick with the scent of spiced rum, grilled seafood, and the occasional whiff of salt carried in from the docks.

Laughter echoed through the dimly lit space, drunken patrons toasting to their fortunes—or misfortunes, depending on the night.

You had long since mastered the art of blending into the chaos, weaving between customers with effortless grace, your hands a blur as you poured drinks, wiped down counters, and cracked jokes all at once.

The old fisherman at the counter huffed as he caught the glass you slid his way, his weathered face splitting into a grin.

"You're too damn cocky for a bartender, Y/n," he grumbled, taking a sip of the golden liquid.

"Flattery will get you nowhere—except another drink if you tip well," you shot back, smirking as you wiped the counter.

The old man let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "Damn menace, you are."

Before you could deliver another quip, the bell above the door jingled, signaling new arrivals. Your gaze flickered toward the entrance, and immediately, the atmosphere seemed to shift.

A small group strolled in, their presence commanding attention even in a bar full of hardened sailors. You recognized them instantly.

The Straw Hat Pirates.

Luffy led the pack, grinning ear to ear as he took in the bustling bar, his boundless energy practically radiating from him.

Usopp and Franky followed close behind, already deep in some ridiculous argument about whether or not cola could be turned into alcohol.

And then there was him.

Zoro.

Broad-shouldered, arms crossed, an air of quiet confidence surrounding him. His swords sat at his hip like an extension of his being, a constant reminder of his strength. But it was his eyes that caught your attention—sharp, calculating, always scanning, as if sizing up the world around him.

You’d met plenty of pirates before, but there was something different about him. Something... interesting.

They took their seats at the bar, Luffy slamming his hands onto the counter with his usual lack of subtlety. "Meat! Lots of Meat!" he declared, grinning wildly.

You arched a brow, already reaching for a bottle. "Well, if it isn’t the infamous Straw Hats," you mused, twirling the bottle between your fingers before popping it open. "What’ll it be, gentlemen?"

Usopp, ever the dramatic storyteller, ordered something fruity, a Mocktail being the first thing that came to mind.

Franky demanded something SUPER strong, his voice booming loud enough to rattle the glasses. It seemed like he'd enjoy a nice Whiskey Sour.

Luffy, as expected, wanted something with meat in it. You weren’t sure if you should be impressed or horrified.

Then your gaze flickered to Zoro, who had yet to say a word.

His arms remained crossed, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke. "Sake."

You snorted. "Predictable."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You got a problem with that?"

"Not at all," you said smoothly, already in the midst of making the other's requests. "Just saying, a guy like you doesn’t seem the adventurous type when it comes to drinks."

Zoro grunted, unimpressed, as you poured a variety of liquids into a cup and slid it toward him.

Before he could grab it, you rested your elbow on the counter, flashing him a smirk. "But hey, this one’s on the house."

That got his attention. His brows furrowed slightly, his gaze flicking from you to the drink and back again. There was a brief hesitation before he picked up the cup and took a sip.

The reaction was immediate.

His grip on the cup tightened ever so slightly, his expression shifting just enough for you to notice.

His tongue tingled with the rich, layered flavors—smooth, complex, and yet strong enough to rival his beloved sake.

He swallowed, exhaling slowly as the taste settled in. Then his dark gaze lifted to meet yours, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

"What the hell is this?"

"Like it?" You grinned, leaning forward slightly. "It’s a little something I came up with myself. Thought you’d appreciate it."

Zoro didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took another slow sip, as if testing whether the first taste had been a fluke. It wasn’t. The drink was dangerously good.

Better than any sake he’d ever had.

That realization should’ve irritated him, but instead, he found himself staring at you, curiosity and something deeper settling in his chest.

He hadn’t paid much attention before, too focused on his drink, but now that he was looking—really looking—he noticed things.

The easy confidence in your posture, the way your lips curled in amusement, the glint of mischief in your eyes.

You were different. And for the first time in a long while, he was interested.

The island had a lot to offer—food stalls, markets, scenic cliffs—but for some reason, Zoro always found himself back at your bar.

It had started off as nothing. Just a casual drink, a place to sit while the others indulged in the island’s festivities. But by the third night, he didn’t even pretend he was there for anything else.

It wasn’t just the drinks—though, damn it, they were good.

Too good.

He’d never had anything quite like what you made for him, and each night, it was something better, something stronger, something just right.

But that wasn’t what kept him coming back.

It was you.

You, with your insufferable smirks, your sharp tongue, your easy laughter that rang over the low hum of the bar like a melody.

You didn’t shy away from teasing him, didn’t fawn over him like others did when they recognized his reputation.

You treated him like just another patron, another nameless face in the crowd, and yet—there was something else.

A warmth.

A familiarity.

Zoro wasn’t used to that.

And that kindness, that brightness—it was intoxicating. More so than any drink you poured.

He sat at the bar now, his usual spot, arms resting on the counter as he watched you work.

His drink sat untouched in front of him, forgotten the moment you started talking.

"You sure you’re not just using me for my drinks?" you teased, sliding a fresh glass to a customer beside him before leaning in slightly, giving him that familiar smug look. "Pretty sure this is your fourth night in a row."

Zoro scoffed, fingers tracing the rim of his cup. "Tch. You wish I was that desperate."

"You wound me, swordsman," you gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to your chest. "And here I thought we were forming a beautiful, booze-filled friendship."

Zoro shook his head, but there was the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips. "If you keep running your mouth, I might start looking for another bar."

You chuckled, leaning your elbow on the counter. "Yeah? Go ahead. Bet you won’t find another place that can make you forget about your precious sake."

He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

You both knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Something about Zoro fascinated you. Maybe it was the contrast—the roughness of him, the way he carried himself like a warrior through and through, yet still sat here every night, lingering like he had nowhere else he’d rather be.

And, though you wouldn’t admit it outright, you found him... charming.

In his own gruff, quiet way.

The way his eyes followed you as you moved. The way he listened when you spoke, even if he acted like he didn’t care.

The way he never let his drink distract him from you.

You leaned in a little closer, lowering your voice just enough to make it feel like a secret. "You know, for someone who claims they’re not interested, you sure do look like you’re enjoying the view."

Zoro tensed, his grip tightening slightly around his glass.

His eyes flicked to yours, sharp and unreadable.

For a moment, you thought he might deny it. Scoff, roll his eyes, deflect like he always did.

But instead, he said, "Maybe I am." That caught you off guard.

You blinked, a slow grin creeping onto your lips. "Well, well. Look at you, actually admitting something for once."

Zoro just took a sip of his drink, but his gaze never left yours. "Don’t get cocky."

Too late.

The conversation moved on, the bar growing rowdier as the night stretched on. But Zoro wasn’t paying attention to the noise, or the people, or even his drink.

He was watching you.

The way your hands moved effortlessly, mixing, pouring, sliding drinks down the counter with practiced ease. The way you threw back your head when you laughed, unapologetically loud.

The way you leaned in when you talked to him, like it was second nature, like you wanted to be close.

Each night, his obsession grew.

It started off as simple curiosity, but now—it was hunger.

He wanted more.

More of your time. More of your attention.

More of you.

And he was starting to think he’d take it.

••••

The bar was alive with noise—the clinking of glasses, drunken laughter, the occasional outburst from some poor bastard who lost a bet.

But Zoro barely heard any of it.

He was too focused on you.

You were moving through the crowd with effortless ease, sliding drinks across the counter, cracking jokes that had customers roaring with laughter.

You had that insufferable, cocky grin on your face—the one you always wore when you knew you’d gotten under someone’s skin.

And damn it, it worked every time.

Zoro found himself watching the way your fingers moved as you mixed drinks, the precise way you handled each glass, like it was second nature.

The way you leaned in close when someone spoke, giving them your full attention, even when they were drunk off their ass and slurring nonsense.

You were good at this—too good. Too damn captivating.

And that laugh of yours—light, unapologetic, always laced with amusement at your own wit.

It was like an itch under his skin, one he couldn’t scratch.

Luffy was beside him, stuffing his face with whatever food he’d managed to get his hands on, crumbs scattering across the bar top.

Most of the crew were still doing their own thing, chatting with locals, admiring scenery or pathetically flirting with every woman in a 5 mile radius.

But then—something shifted.

Zoro didn’t notice at first, but Luffy had gone quiet.

He was watching him.

Not in his usual careless way, not with that absentminded curiosity he always had when he wasn’t focused on food. No—this was different.

Luffy’s eyes, normally bright with mischief, were unreadable, his face eerily still.

The realization sent a slow chill down Zoro’s spine.

Then, just as you walked away from the bar, Luffy turned to him. "You like Y/n?"

Zoro stiffened. A heavy silence passed between them, the background noise of the bar fading into a dull hum.

He could lie. Could brush it off. Could scoff and tell Luffy to mind his own damn business.

But he didn’t, he couldn't bring himself to lie to his captain. "...Yeah."

Luffy’s expression didn’t change. He just stared, unsettlingly calm. "Do you want Y/n?"

Zoro exhaled slowly, staring down at his half-empty glass.

Did he?

His first instinct was to say no. He wasn’t that kind of man. He didn’t take people, didn’t let his desires dictate his actions.

But the longer he sat with the question, the more it clawed at him.

The way you laughed. The way you looked at him. The way you spoke to him like he was just another guy, not a pirate, not a swordsman, not some wanted criminal.

He was a pirate though.

Pirates took what they wanted.

And he wanted you.

Zoro lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Luffy. His voice was steady, firm. "I do."

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, Luffy’s lips curled into that wide, familiar grin. "If you want something, you should take it!"

Just like that, his usual energy returned, his eerie stillness vanishing like it had never been there. He clapped a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, grinning like this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"My crew gets whatever they want." His grin widened. "I’ll make sure of it."

Zoro’s grip tightened around his cup, heartbeat thudding in his ears.

Luffy wasn’t just talking about letting him go after you.

He was promising something.

And for the first time, Zoro let the thought settle, let it grow, let it take root.

••••

The night stretched long, and eventually, the last few customers trickled out, their drunken laughter fading into the distance as they stumbled into the night.

You exhaled, rolling your shoulders before reaching for the keys in your pocket. Another good night, another pocket full of berri.

The bar was silent now, save for the quiet clinking of glasses as you tidied up one last time.

You moved on autopilot, wiping the counter down with lazy strokes before finally heading toward the door. The lock clicked into place with a satisfying snap, sealing the building in its usual nighttime solitude.

Stepping out onto the dimly lit streets, you inhaled deeply, the salty sea air filling your lungs.

The cobblestone roads stretched before you, lined with flickering lanterns that cast long, wavering shadows against the alley walls.

For a moment, you just stood there, hands stuffed into your pockets, humming a tune under your breath.

And yet… something felt off.

A prickling sensation crawled up your spine, subtle but persistent. Like the weight of unseen eyes pressing against your back.

You froze, the night air suddenly too cold against your skin.

Your fingers twitched in your pockets, tightening around your keys.

You’re being paranoid, you told yourself. It’s just another quiet night.

You forced a breath, shaking your head. "Don’t be ridiculous, Y/n," you muttered under your breath. "No one’s watching you."

But then—

Footsteps.

Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.

Your stomach twisted.

You stopped walking, straining your ears.

Silence.

Your pulse thudded.

Then, just as you took another cautious step forward—

The footsteps resumed.

Closer this time.

Your breath hitched, heart hammering against your ribs.

You picked up your pace, forcing a laugh in a weak attempt to calm yourself. "Alright, if you’re a robber, just know I’m broke as hell—"

The footsteps sped up.

Panic surged through you like a lightning strike. You bolted.

The world blurred around you as your legs carried you forward on pure instinct.

Your home was just in sight, barely a block away—But then arms wrapped around you.

A strong, unyielding grip yanked you back before you could react. A hand clamped over your mouth, smothering the startled cry that tore from your throat.

You fought.

Your body twisted, legs kicking, fingers clawing at the arm restraining you. But the grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened, pressing you flush against an unmovable chest.

And then—

A voice.

Low. Calm. Familiar.

"You’re safe."

Your breath hitched.

The voice was right by your ear, warm and steady despite the vice-like grip holding you still.

"I’ve got you."

Your body went rigid.

Your eyes widened, the realization slamming into you like a crashing wave.

"Zoro?!" The name came out muffled against his hand, but you knew he heard it.

"Shhh," he murmured, voice smooth, almost soothing. "Don’t struggle."

You did struggle, thrashing as hard as you could, but he barely budged.

"Zoro," you hissed, your voice strained against his palm. "What the hell are you—?"

"I won’t hurt you," he promised, his tone steady, as if that alone was enough to justify this.

Confusion tangled with the terror clawing at your chest.

Your mind spun. Why was he doing this?

You forced yourself to think, to breathe. You had to get free, had to—

But then—Sharp pain.

A precise, practiced pressure against the side of your neck.

The world lurched.

Your limbs went weak, your vision hazy.

Your breath shuddered as a wave of dizziness crashed over you.

"Wha…" Your words slurred, head tilting against Zoro’s shoulder. "The… hell…"

Your fingers twitched uselessly, your body going slack.

The last thing you saw was a flash of green hair, blurred by the darkness creeping into the edges of your vision.

And the last thing you heard—soft, unwavering—

"You’re mine now, Y/n."

Now excuse me while I crash out 💥 🚶🏾‍♀️ [Drawing Usopp is funnnn 😌]

@triangularz thanks for the tag!! And you know I'm gonna be lurking in your blog for that fic, you might as well add me to your taglist 🤭,, the cross guild's got me in a chokehold, and I recently finished Mihawk's part of a fic:

A moment of silence stretched between you, filled only by the distant rustling of leaves outside. You cleared your throat, still flustered but grateful beyond words. “Thank you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. Mihawk reached out, brushing his fingers along the curve of your jaw before wiping a wayward streak of water from your cheek. “You need only ask, Y/n.” And just like that, your heart was fluttering like butterfly wings.

Npts: @thebunnednun @shy-writer-999 @lofaewrites @loganwritesprobably @bunnyboowrites @chibinasuu @sigewienne-writes @indydonuts

WRITING GAME post the last line that you wrote

Thank you to @bettystonewell for tagging me! This is the last line I wrote. Currently, I am still writing my 'Woman of Letters' series, (28k words and counting).

“Where’s Dean?” You asked, your voice soft and full of hope.

Again, I don't have many mutuals, so I will just tag my favorite accounts: @deansbeer @dulcescorderitas @sammyluvr @buckysbabygorl @lovelybarnes

No pressure to anyone I tagged!

─────✿ KINKTOBER DAY 1: OVERSTIMULATION

✎ zoro x gn!reader ♦︎ synopsis: zoro knows he can pull one more from you, and you're not one to disappoint zoro. ♦︎ word count: 600+ ♦︎ cw: overstim, creampie, biting, light praise, light aftercare, pet names [baby, used once], mutual mastetbation [reader receiving], intended lowercase

PREV POST ✧ NEXT POST

there is something about pushing you to the edge that drives zoro insane, his body molding against yours, holding your warm, sticky body to his own. he enjoyed the control he has over you, the control you allows him to have. it shows that you trusted him to be gentle with you, to cherish your body to the fullest. which is why he kept insisting he copied pull one more orgasm form you. you'd lost count after 5, your essence mixing with his, and being pushed back into your tight canal with each plunge of his toned hips.

zoro makes it his mission to be gentle with you, knowing that his cock isn't exactly average; although nothing about about him truly is. but after your third orgasm, be knew that you could handle if he went a little faster; your hips connecting a little harder. his hand, warm to the touch, held one of your legs in the air as he continued to plow into your tight canal.

your mind growing evermore hazing, your latest orgasm creeping up on you; the tip of his cock abusing that special button. his hips never relenting despite your protests, he insisted that you could take more, that you could give him one more. and well, you've never been one to disappoint zoro.

a warm, calloused hand lowers down towards the place you need him most and he wastes no time stimulating you. you become increasingly hot under his touch, it almost hurts to be this stimulated even after the multiple orgasms you'd previously had. zoro was relentless in his persuit, his hand kept a steady pace that aligned with each of his thrusts; you became increasingly wet under the attention from his hand. that burning sensation you'd felt began growing exponentially; you hadn't even noticed your hands gently prying at his own.

,,zo,, you couldn't even muster a full sentence, barely being able to huff out his name. the wet sounds echoing through the room only stirred him on, the sight of your wet lower regions connecting continuously, several strings of your combined essence being more proof of just how long you both were going. ,,mmf- fuck! zo, zoro!,,

,,promise baby, this the last one -fuck, I know y' got one more in you,, by the way his words were slurring together and his voice has in increasing in pitch, you just knew that we was getting closer. his aching cock hadn't gotten as much as a break since the moment you both started this escapade. his hips were losing the rhythm he'd been flowing and so was his hand, although his hand increased in pace.

,,fuckfuckfuckfuck- zo' m' so close, i c-cant ngh-,, all you could do was whisper into the base of his neck, hoping his hand would have mercy on your weeping body. the burn hurt so good, you couldn't hold back the sounds of pleasure that escaped your larynx; your breath hitched with each of his thrusts yet becoming more ragged as you felt your surroundings grow blurry.

zoro's rough voice groaned from above you, his hot face leaning down towards your throat. sloppy yet passionate kisses being trailed up and down your collarbone as your vision shifted again, turning white. your face shifting into an expression of pure ecstasy as you finally reached your high; every muscle in your body tightened as you pulled zoro even closer. despite your head being practically numb you still noticed how zoro's body stilled, his thick cock pressing deep inside of you. hot, sticky ropes flowed into your hot canal, yet also pooling onto the mattress being too much for your body to hold in. the small nibbles he placed around your jugular didn't go unnoticed, only adding to your orgasm as your body convulsed once more before fully relaxing in his hold. light kisses being trailed against your steaming skin, whispers of 'you did so good for me' and 'im proud of you' faded into the night.

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

☥ My Art

☥ Demon Slayer

☥ One Piece

☥ One Piece, Live Action

☥ Spiderman: ATSV & ITSV

☥ Stranger Things

☥ The Walking Dead

☥ Miscellaneous 

Today is my child's Birthday!!

It's very messy,, one day I'll redo it...maybe, also I might be moving to a new about because I want to focus more on drawing!

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖞𝖆𝖗𝖉˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

korii. 9teen. soulaan. they/them

︵‿︵‿୨♠︎୧‿︵‿︵

𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖆 𝖉𝖎𝖌 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖘 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗?

my coffin ☥ cemtetary rules ☥ the graveyard

art account

︵‿︵‿୨♠︎୧‿︵‿︵

Kinktober Masterlist, 2024

︵‿︵‿୨♠︎୧‿︵‿︵

𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴♠︎

❖ binding shots, yandere! zoro x bartender! reader

❖ too tight, too much, yandere! luffy x gn! reader

❖ old habits die hard, strawhat men x gn! reader

can we get some yandere zoro x bartender reader who makes the best danm alcohol he has ever tasted

OMGOSH THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!! I really hope you enjoy the story, you can find it right here!

─ Anchored Hearts

✎ shanks x pearl

♦︎fic type: one-shot, fic-trade

♦︎ summary: through the motivation of their daughter Uta, Shanks and Pearl stop dancing around eachother and finally go on their long awaited date.

♦︎word count: 2.5k

♦︎warnings: None

♦︎a/n: this is another fic trade done with a friend, Pearl belongs to @frillsinadress ! I loved writing Pearl, she's a fun character and her relationship with Shanks is soo cute!

The soft hum of the sea carried a gentle breeze through the village, rustling leaves and tugging at colorful festival banners strung from building to building. The sky, a tapestry of fading oranges and deepening purples, signaled the start of the festival’s evening celebration. Among the crowd that gathered for the festivities, Pearl stood out like a rare gem washed ashore. Her powder blue hair cascaded down in soft waves, catching the last rays of sunlight, and her fair skin almost glowed in the twilight. Her posture was poised, refined; her serene smile framed by lips that spoke with a melody so smooth it could calm the fiercest storm.

Pearl had always carried herself with a regal grace, elegance embedded in every movement. She walked with an air of timeless confidence, speaking to everyone with the warmth of an old friend, even if they had just met. Yet beneath this public composure, there was a fire—something more opinionated, more raw, that only her closest companions ever witnessed.

This evening, that sharpness was dialed back. She was content, savoring the festival atmosphere, her eyes flickering across the twinkling lights and the sea of happy faces, but occasionally her gaze would drift to Shanks, standing nearby, his broad frame illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns. Uta, Shanks' daughter, was fluttering between them with barely contained excitement, her bright eyes glinting with mischief. At just eleven years old, Uta was already far too clever for her own good, and Pearl could see right through her little charade.

Still, she let Uta play her games. There was something charming in the girl’s attempts to set her father and Pearl up, even though Pearl and Shanks were already well aware of her intentions. Pearl smiled inwardly as Uta darted between villagers, whispering and plotting. The child wasn’t subtle, not in the slightest, but Pearl admired her spirit. The girl saw something between her and Shanks—something she desperately wanted to nurture, and Pearl wouldn't deny that she wanted that something to become more as well.

As for Shanks, he stood a few paces away, laughing with a few crewmates, his eyes always drawn back to Pearl as though pulled by an invisible thread. His gaze, warm and affectionate, made her feel more grounded than she had in years. She had sailed with many, walked through many villages, but there was something about being near Shanks that made her feel… safe, in a way she hadn't allowed herself to feel in a long time. The festivities ramped up around them, with villagers gathering to play games and share food, but Pearl remained calm, observing everything with an amused glint in her eyes. She knew what was coming next—Uta had made it so painfully obvious that Pearl couldn't help but chuckle under her breath. But, for the sake of the girl’s delight, she pretended ignorance.

"Mom, Mom!" Uta’s high-pitched voice cut through the noise of the festival, her small frame barreling toward her with a grin too wide to be innocent. "There’s this game I want you to try! I already told Dad." Shanks wandered over, grinning like the fool he was, hands resting casually in his pockets. "Looks like we’ve both been summoned." Pearl tilted her head, giving Shanks a knowing look that he returned with a playful wink. "I see. How could I refuse such a gracious invitation?" Uta led them toward a game booth, her energy infectious as she bounced ahead. Pearl followed at her own pace, moving with the deliberate elegance that came naturally to her. Every step purposeful, every glance measured. Shanks walked beside her, his presence comforting, though the tension between them simmered quietly beneath the surface.

As they approached the booth, Pearl noticed the game involved throwing rings onto the necks of bottles, a child’s game. Her lips twitched in amusement. "Don’t worry, Pearl," Shanks said, leaning slightly toward her. "I'll go easy on you." Pearl raised a delicate eyebrow, her smile widening into something more mischievous. "That won’t be necessary. But please, try not to cry when I win." Uta giggled from behind the counter, barely able to contain her excitement as the two adults bantered. They each took their rings, Shanks tossing his with an almost casual arrogance that missed entirely, causing Uta to burst into laughter. Pearl, on the other hand, measured her throw with precision, easily hooking the ring around the bottle’s neck. "I guess I’m no good at carnival games." Shanks scratched his head sheepishly, though the smile never left his face. "Looks like the mighty Red-Haired Shanks can’t handle a simple game of rings," Pearl teased, her voice lilting with amusement. There was an easiness between them that felt natural, as though they had been playing these games their whole lives.

As the night wore on, Pearl and Shanks found themselves moving through the festival together, whether playing more games, sampling the village’s cuisine, or watching local performances. All the while, Uta hovered nearby, orchestrating the events, no doubt pushing them closer and closer. When the fireworks finally lit up the night sky, painting the darkness with brilliant colors, Pearl stood at the edge of the village square, her eyes reflecting the dazzling display above. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice low, almost as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. Shanks stood beside her, his usual playful demeanor softened into something quieter, more introspective.

“It is,” Shanks replied, though his eyes weren’t on the sky. Instead, they lingered on Pearls, who seemed to be lost in thought as they locked eyes. Her eyes were much softer, not like her usual calculating glances, her eyes held a calmness to them. A warmth, perhaps, that Shanks wasn’t used to seeing so openly from her, however, he was glad he could witness this warmth radiating from her. Uta reappeared at that moment, tugging at Pearl’s sleeve. “There’s one more thing!” she said excitedly. “I’ve planned a dinner for you and Dad—just the two of you! It’s by the beach, at sunset. I know you’ll love it!” Pearl exchanged a glance with Shanks, and they both smiled knowingly. Uta’s intentions had been clear from the beginning, but neither of them had the heart to spoil her fun. Besides, the idea of a quiet dinner with Shanks sounded… nice. More than nice, even.

Uta led them to a secluded spot near the edge of the village, where a small table was set up, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight. Overhead, someone had hung a sprig of mistletoe, though it was the middle of spring, and Pearl couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. “She really went all out,” Pearl said, shaking her head with fondness. Shanks grinned, pulling out a chair for her. “What can I say? Our girl’s got big dreams.” As they sat down, the last of the sun’s rays stretched across the horizon, casting a golden glow over the water. The moment felt almost surreal—too perfect, too calm for the life they led. But Pearl wasn’t one to question such things. She leaned into the peacefulness, allowing herself to enjoy the low hum of the evening.

"So,” Pearl began, leaning forward slightly, her voice smooth as she rested her chin on her hand, her hat casting a soft shadow over her face; Shanks' heart skipped at the sight of her ethereal smile. “You’ve been rather quiet about your intentions tonight. Was this really all Uta’s doing, or did you have a hand in it?” Shanks grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I’ll admit, I didn’t stop her from making plans. But you can’t blame me for wanting to spend more time with you, can you?” Pearl raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Oh, so now the truth comes out. You’re the one behind this elaborate setup.” Shanks chuckled, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t go that far. But if Uta wants to give me a little nudge, who am I to stop her?” Pearl leaned back in her chair, her purple eyes gleaming with playful challenge. “And what exactly do you plan to do with this ‘nudge,’ Red-Hair?”

Shanks met her gaze, his smile softening as he leaned forward, his voice low and teasing. “Well, I was thinking I’d make the most of it.” Pearl tilted her head, her smile coy. “Oh? And how do you plan to do that?” Shanks’ grin widened, his voice taking on a more flirtatious tone. “I suppose that depends on how much you’re willing to let me.” Pearl’s laughter bubbled up again, her eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that.” “And you like it,” Shanks replied, his tone playful yet confident. Pearl’s smirk grew as she took a sip of her water, her gaze never leaving his. “Perhaps.”

Throughout the evening they continued their playful banter and light flirting, unable to ignore the warmth growing on their cheeks from each compliment. They happily enjoyed eachother's presence and attention but as a bundle of mistletoe dangled above them, catching Pearl’s eye once again, she found herself laughing. “What?” Shanks asked, though he was already smiling in that disarmingly charming way of his. “Uta really has an eye for detail,” Pearl said, gesturing to the mistletoe. “A bit out of season, don’t you think?” Shanks looked up, his grin widening as he took in the scene. “Yeah, but I think we should play along, don’t you?” Pearl felt her heart skip a beat, though she kept her composure as she met his gaze. “Oh, so now you’re a stickler for tradition?”

“Only when it suits me,” Shanks replied, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, his eyes never leaving hers. For a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in this small bubble of time. Shanks leaned in first, closing the distance between them with an easy confidence, but Pearl was the one who closed her eyes and met him halfway. Their lips brushed softly, the kiss tender and unhurried, as though they had all the time in the world. The world around them seemed to fall away as their lips connected, Pearl's mind spinning from the warmth of his mouth. She could taste the faint hint of sea salt on him, mixed with a surprising sweetness, like cherries. It was a little unexpected—rough around the edges, but with an undeniable softness that made her heart skip a beat.

Shanks, on the other hand, was lost in the feel of her lips. They were softer than he had imagined, even in his wildest daydreams. He’d been waiting for this—longer than he cared to admit—and now that it was happening, it felt better than he’d ever thought it could. Her lips moved against his with a grace that left him breathless, her warmth sinking into him with every second that passed. He kept it gentle, slower than the rush of the moment might have urged him to, savoring every bit of it. To his surprise, she kissed him back with just as much restraint, a tenderness he hadn’t expected. For someone so strong and confident, Pearl let herself melt into the kiss, and Shanks reveled in the sensation. His thumb lightly brushed her cheek as his other hand rested on the small of her back, pulling her just a bit closer. It wasn’t an overpowering gesture, but rather one of reassurance, as if to say he was there, holding her as carefully as he could.

Pearl, for her part, felt her pulse quicken. Despite the intensity of the moment, there was a certain gentleness in the way Shanks held her, in the way his lips moved slowly and deliberately against hers. She appreciated it—the care, the tenderness. It made her feel like he wasn’t just indulging in a moment of passion, but rather savoring her, treating her like she was something precious.

When they finally broke apart, Pearl’s eyes fluttered open, her breath still caught somewhere in her chest. Their gazes locked, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. Shanks’ boyish smirk had softened, the usual mischief replaced with something far more sincere. His eyes, though still twinkling with that familiar playful spark, now held a softness she hadn’t seen before. Pearl’s lips curled into a light giggle, unable to help herself as she watched him. There was something disarming about seeing this side of him—something that made her chest tighten in a way she hadn’t expected. Shanks grinned at the sound of her laughter, his arms pulling her just a little closer, as if afraid to let go. Without missing a beat, he leaned in again, this time pressing a series of small, affectionate kisses along her cheek. Each one was quick, playful, but there was a tenderness behind every peck that made Pearl’s heart flutter.

“You’re really laying it on thick, Captain,” Pearl teased, her voice light and amused, though she made no effort to pull away. Shanks chuckled against her skin, his breath warm as he continued to press more kisses along her cheek, pausing only to murmur, “Can’t help it. I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Pearl laughed again, the sound soft and almost shy, as she felt his lips brush against her skin repeatedly, leaving trails of warmth wherever he kissed her. There was something so endearing about the way he did it—his typical confidence replaced by an almost boyish eagerness. And yet, it didn’t feel rushed or overbearing. It felt… sweet. Like he was savoring every little moment with her.

Just as Shanks was about to place another kiss near the corner of her mouth, a small, familiar voice interrupted them from the shadows. Uta’s head popped up from behind a nearby bush, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Did it work?” she asked, her voice full of hope. Pearl and Shanks both burst into laughter, beckoning Uta over to join them at the table. “Yes, it worked,” Pearl said, her voice full of warmth as she pulled Uta into a hug. “You’ve done well.” Uta beamed with pride as she slid into the seat between them, looking between her father and Pearl with wide, excited eyes. “Are you happy?” Pearl smiled, her heart full as she exchanged a look with Shanks. “Yes,” she said softly, “very happy.” And as the three of them sat together, continuing their meal with the new addition, under the fading light of the sunset, Pearl felt a contentment she hadn’t known she needed.

The festival continued around them, with laughter and music floating on the air, but in this small corner of the world, everything felt still, peaceful. Pearl glanced at Shanks once more, catching the way his eyes softened when he looked at Uta, then at her. She hadn’t realized until now how much she’d been craving this—a sense of belonging, of family. The evening stretched on, and they lingered at the table long after the food had been eaten, lost in conversation. Uta’s presence only added to the warmth of the night, her innocent questions and bubbly personality making both adults laugh. And as the stars shimmered above them, casting a gentle glow over the quiet village, Pearl knew that this was just the beginning of something new. Something real. Something that, for once, felt like it could last.

− Tired

✎ your fav x reader

♦︎summary: your boyfriend is tired after a long day, and tries to convince you to come to bed

♦︎word count: 300+

♦︎warnings: none, short

Men who like to hug you from behind while you're busy. Their scent overwhelming you and simultaneously calming you. You can feel their chest against you back, rising and falling with each breath they take. Their warm arms wrapped around your waist, snugly, as if they were make to be placed there. Your face shifts to an expression of amusement, mind being taken off of your current task.

,,and just what do you think you're doing, Sir?,,

,,mmm... just seeing what you're up to, was getting lonely without you,, His husky voice sending vibrations through your upper back and chest. From the low pitch of his voice alone, you could tell he was about five minutes from collapsing in exhaustion.

,,you sound tired baby, why haven't you gone to bed yet?,, You questioned him, but continued with your task at hand. You felt him squeeze lightly at your waist, rubbing small circles where one of his hands rest on your stomach. You release a content hum, relaxing every more into his hold.

,,come t' bed with me, please?,, He rasps out, anyone who didn't know him well, wouldn't be able to notice the whine in his voice. You take pride in how much you know your man, quirks, ambitions and all, there was nothing he could do that would get past you.

Not even his light manipulation; he knew the affect his voice laced with sleep had on you. Knew you couldn't resist him, especially when he was in the mood for cuddles which was few and far between.

,,okay, just let me finish this and I'll be right with you-,, he cut you off, pulling you impossibly closer to his body, as if trying to fuse you into becoming one.

,,you can finish t'morrow, you always over work 'ya self,, His words began to slur together, his tiredness getting the better of him. You supposed it would be better to abide by his wishes, before he falls asleep where you both stand and traps you here; a common occurrence.

,,alright big guy, come on, you win,, Your hand intertwines with his as you pull him with you to your shared bedroom. Your eyes growing heavy as you make your way to that sweet mattress where you could bundle up with your love under warm comforters.

♦︎note: This is really me just testing out the waters before I really start writing. I haven't written in a long time, so I'd really love if you all would send me any requests you have! 😊