Imagine Shanks Saving You From Hypothermia

"was wondering where you slipped off to."

a month ago, you think, the sound of a man's voice in your kitchen well past midnight would have given you a heart attack. instead, much to your chagrin, shanks' low rasp—heavy with sleep—only has warmth curling in your chest. you purse your lips.

"’s my home. where would i go?"

shanks presses up against your back. only half an hour ago he’d done the same, tucked beneath the covers of your bed and curled around you so tightly it’d been a challenge to pry yourself free and slip away. you’d thrown on his shirt—plucked it from a corner of your room, a puddle of sea-softened cotton, not bothering to button it any further than you’d found it. he pinches at the sleeve and tugs it down, dragging the fabric down over your arm until it settles, buttoned opening only just covering the swell of your breast.

he’s gentle, touch slight as he brushes the knuckle of his index finger up your bicep. his lips are equally soft when he kisses at your shoulder. his hand finds your stomach, pressing into you, pressing you back into him, then sliding over and settling at the crook of your waist.

that mouth trails over your newly bared skin, up the slope of your collar to unabashedly bury his face into your neck and inhale, deep and slow.

"mm." the noise he lets out is something between a grunt and a sigh, low and rumbling against you. "dunno. you always find somewhere to hide away. what're you making? better be good, for my troubles."

"cookies," you say absent-mindedly, eyes trained on the orange glow of the stovetop light before you where two large brown cookies, still on their baking sheet, are cooling. then you blink. "your troubles?"

"woke up to an empty bed," he bemoans, "had to come down so many flights—"

"three. you think i don't know how tall my lighthouse is?"

"so energetic in the middle of the night. where do you even find the energy?"

you tut, reaching up with your hand to lace your fingers in his hair. almost immediately he turns his face into your palm, pressing a kiss there and rushing to leave more on the pads of your fingers, nuzzling his nose against the soft skin of your inner wrist.

"same place you find the energy to complain, i suppose." your thumb twitches as he nips at the base. "i could kick you out, you know."

"how cruel." his hold around you tightens. "you know my back hurts when i sleep on your stoop."

your head snaps to the side, determined to hide the way your face burns at that straightforward confession. luckily shanks seems preoccupied continuing to kiss at that hand, and a second later the oven timer beeps, drawing the attention of both of you.

"looks good," he says, loosening his grip just enough to let you reach out for one of the cookies, now cool enough to pry from the baking sheet.

"does roux ever bake?"

shanks lets out a bark of laughter. "roux's more of a hearty stew kinda guy."

"ah. 'course." your words are mumbled, spoken through the gooey mass of molten chocolate you've just bitten into. still warm, the cookie begins to fall apart almost immediately, collapsing between your fingers—shanks leans in to catch the greater part of the mess with his tongue, laving it over your palm and then up the length of your fingers for any remaining trace of chocolate, careful to press the roughness of his scruffy cheek along your shoulder with each movement. it draws gooseflesh there, sends a shiver down your spine that pools warmly at the base of your stomach.

"i made two for a reason, you know." in the dark quiet of your kitchen at this hour, you keep your voice low, barely more than a whisper.

"mm." his hum is more chipper this time, muffled around your finger as he slowly draws back. "we can split that one too if you'd like."

but his arm tightens around you once more, and he drags his nose along the length of your neck, lips brushing over the skin. when he reaches the base he pauses, pressing a kiss there—then another to the side, and another, lingering and meticulous as he crosses your nape.

"or," he starts, as if breathing a secret, "we could go back to bed."

"sounds like you've made up your mind."

"come back to bed with me. you need rest."

your lips twitch, all too aware that his plans hardly involve rest—yet still you nod. "fine."

and as soon as the word falls from your lips he has you slung over his shoulder, already on his way towards the stairwell. you catch one final glance at the lonely leftover cookie; in the morning it'll be hard, cold, and far too much to eat alone, but shanks has the right idea, you suppose.

you'd much rather spend the rest of the night tangled in the sheets with him.

Mando🤤

Fucking rail me pls.

Imagine surprising Shanks with a sexy costume

Benn: Sorry, I can't bar hop with you tonight, I have plans.

Shanks: and I can't join?

Benn: seeing as my plans involve having sex, no. Because while I love you boss, I'm not into voyeurism.

Shanks: *whines* fine, I'll find someone else to go bar hopping with.

You: *leans down and whispers in his ear* or you can stay here and drink and I'll let you see what I've got for you waiting in our room? *waves a bottle of booze at him and make your way into your shared bedroom*

Shanks: *stares at you with wide eyes* .... All of you get the fuck off my bleedin ship.

Benn: but the sun isn't even down.

Shanks: *herds them towards the plank * bugger off.

The crew: *rolls their eyes and leave voluntarily*

Shanks: *sprints to his room and throws open the door*

You: *Currently buckling a garter belt securely around your thigh*

Shanks: *slumps against the door frame and tries to remember how to breathe* Wow.

You: *Does a spin and shows off your outfit*

Shanks: *excitedly rushes over and kisses you* is it a rental?

You: nope, so I can wear it anytime you want.

Shanks: well not all of it, you'll need a new corset and panties.

You: *pulls away from his kisses* The panties I know, but why the corset?

Shanks: *rips it almost in half leaving it hanging round your hips before helping himself to your chest*

You: good lord.

Shanks: oh no, the only name you should be calling is mine. *Pushes you on the bed and starts to undress*

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Zoro x Fem!Reader: A talk about Loyalty

Hmmm, Was curious. So I wrote a silly little thing.

Tw: pregnancy, and some nsfw content

You were humming a silly tune to yourself, your lap taken by your boyfriend's head. He was probably in his usual state of half sleep and half alertness. Though you were almost sure that the man was more awake than asleep since he was sighing more and taking deeper breaths less. You were running your hands through his hair, a smile blooming on your lips at the almost purr that he was letting out.

While he wasn't like the type of boyfriend that Sanji was, that was of grand gestures and of outspoken words of affection. He was of little gestures and of reassuring acts. And an unspoken love no matter what, no matter where.

You saw it when he stayed by your side, when you were sick and delirious from fever, holding your hand in his, thumb caressing your knuckles. When he pressed a kiss of reassurance both for himself and for you on your forehead when you were fast asleep.

You saw it when he trusted you to watch his back in fights, and in the thank yous he gave you through a nod and a glance your way. When he fought harder than an admiral when he saw you injured, coming your way and staying close, but still letting you fight till either the battle was over or you were done for the time being.

You saw it when he sat next to you during meal times and whatnot, when he walked behind you not unlike a dog. Trusting you, but just wanting to be near you.

He'd allow random bouts of affection from you, whether it came from you wanting to put sunscreen on him, pushing him to take a bath at least once a week, or dropping a bottle of conditioner in his hands for his hair. He allowed you to press kisses and poke jokes at him, only to give a grumble or two, or a half hearted frown.

The best times when he showed it, you felt, was when he slept either on or near you. You and Usopp had done an experiment off of this. Whether Zoro would wake up mid nap to follow you if you changed positions. The result? He actually woke up and followed you once you got out of a certain range, settling by your side again when you had stopped. Ussop couldn't stop laughing at that and you just stared at your boyfriend in amazement.

During your period, he'd be more affectionate and more attentive to you, willing to allow you to release your emotions any way you did. He'd even keep some chocolate stashed in his haramaki just in case. Even if he didn't like it.

On the day you two were married, he was all smiles and joys. Later in the night he'd press kisses from head to toe from how much he revered and treasured you. After you two were exhausted and sweaty from your activities, the man would lay his head on your chest, the sound of your heartbeat beautiful to him.

He'd have your back in any and all situations, whether you were in a fight with someone verbally, and if you were the one in the wrong, he'd quietly point out the mistake to you, but still be on your side.

Both of you didn't exchange rings, but earrings. You got one of his usual gold, and you gave him one which was of a shooting star, with the star seated at the hole of the piercing itself. He smiled whenever his eyes set on you, and seemed more at ease around you.

The few times that he was in need of rest especially after a battle, he would first drag himself to check on you if you had gotten hurt before, if you had, he settled next to you, sitting beside your weak figure even if he was the one who really needed more rest. If you weren't, he'd kiss you, before taking you to where his bedroll was, content with having you close. (As if you weren't already on your way there, sake and onigiri on a platter in your hands only for him)

One very rare occassion was when he'd gotten badly hurt and the both of you needed to fend off against a group of 6. You held him close to you with one hand, arm around his neck, and pointed your pistol on one side, and he held a sword against those at your back. Both of you literally covering each other's backs. He always said that the moment was when he fell in love with you. Purely because you knew he would still want to fend off against the group, and you knew that he trusted you to give him some help in this specific moment.

When your daughter was born, he pressed a kiss to you, and then your daughter's head as he whispered how proud he was of you. He mumbled promises to his daughter of how he would take care of you both, of how proud he would always be of you two, of how much her presence was waited on and loved.

There was one funny moment when he saw you put her down for sleep in your home, gaze catching on your form, your loving gaze and that motherly glow to you and proceeded to eat you out a couple times till you came almost 3-4 times on his tongue purely because he was so turned on by how sexy and perfect you looked.

Dividing household duties? On the Strawhat Crew? Yes. While duties were divided between who was present at the moment and who was comfortable and able to do what, the one duty of waking up at night to tend to her was purely his. Not only because he wanted to ensure you got some rest, but also because that moment seemed only his. That moment was where he would give kisses to her feet, to her hands and to her nose, whispering loving words to her and the family that she had, of how utterly loved she was.

Oh to have a loving, loyal Zoro.

When a fanfic gets to the smut too fast

Spock, Jim has vanished without a trace, is this really the best use of your time

Kinktober day 16: wet dreams with Shanks

warning: needy/pathetic shanks, wet dreams, riding.

Kinktober Masterlist

"Fuck- fuck- fuuuckk-" Shanks hadn't been on the bottom in a good long while, but now he wished he let you ride him more often, pussy-drunk in a way he only ever felt when he was suffocating between your thighs and half-delirious on your cries and taste.

Everything felt like a dream— fuzzy around the edges and strangely warm, leaving him feeling dazed and stupid while his gaze stayed fixated on how pretty your pussy looked taking his cock, folds squishing erotically against the red curls around his base when you grinded your hips against his own. His head spun when you whined from the stimulation it gave your clit, and though he'd usually reach down to thumb at your clit and stroke your folds, he couldn't pry his grip on the covers no matter how hard he tried.

"Keep goin', keep goin'," He whined pathetically, drool quickly spilling down his chin and puddling on his firm chest, bucking his hips up in an attempt to keep you bouncing on his cock like he was some sort of toy. "Please, angel, you're so fuckin' tight, pussy grippin' me so harddd-"

He sounded fucking stupid, but he didn't care as his release crept up his spine and made his cock jump excitedly in your hot cunt, rendered helpless to do anything but take what you gave him and thank you for it. He'd only been inside you for a few minutes, but just the sight of you alone left him baffled, bucking and crying for more.

Tits bouncing above him tantalizingly with each pump on his cock, hands on his broad shoulders to keep you from falling over, hair messy and pussy weeping on dick the way he loved so much. He couldn't get enough of the sight, and one glance at the way your face looked, brows furrowed and swollen lips parted in ecstasy, was more than enough send him tipping over the edge.

"Fuck! I'm cummin'! Oh shit, pretty girl, I-I'm-"

"Ah!" He woke with a gasp, hips bucking into the sheets as spurt after spurt of perfectly good cum went wasted in the confines of his tight boxers, whining loudly while he squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back.

It didn't feel good like in the dream. In fact, everything about it felt rather dirty. His fiery hair stuck to his hot face, sweat beading down the back of his neck and soaking his pillow while drool dripped down the corners of his mouth, cock aching with each spasm as he ruined his shorts and made them all wet.

"...Babyyyyy," He whined, turning to push at your shoulder while you so peacefully slept. "Princess, I had a wet dream, please help meee."

He wasn't ashamed in the slightest. Rather, he was hoping you'd help ease the ache in his balls and made his dream a reality, already keening and palming his sticky boxers at the thought of getting to watch you pump yourself on his cock again.

It’s hard to focus when Zoro trains.

But you join him in the crow’s nest anyway, seeking solace in the comfort of his quiet company. You don’t often share words, but you do share space—share the same, balmy air to breathe, sea salt coating your tongues.

And that’s enough, you think. I could live a content life like this.

Your eyes drift, though.

From your book, your notepad, your camera—any distraction that you may have in front of you. Because, well, how could you not look?

He’s half nude, body carved from stone, a figure that would make even the gods jealous. From the expanse of his back to the heft of his pecs to the cut of his abs, he’s the picture of physical perfection, sweat trickling down his firm, tawny flesh in rivulets.

It’s hard to focus on one thing when Zoro trains.

But, more often than not, your gaze seem to hone in on his hands.

(Once, you pressed your palm to his, heel to heel, after sharing too much sake. Your skin was warm from both the alcohol and the proximity. His cheeks were flushed, too—a shade of pink that reminded you of the blooming sakura in Wano. His hand dwarfed yours, and made your fingers look puny like a child’s.)

Whether he’s holding dumbbells or—as he is now—his katana, you marvel at both the strength and dexterity of his calloused palms, the way they curl around the hilt with assuredness, never wavering, white-knuckled. Each of his digits must maintain their poise, suspending the blade in its grip, absolute control the difference between life and death.

His past missteps are obvious: gnarled scars cut across the expanse of his body, his hands no exception. As battle-worn as the rest of his flesh, his hands tell a story: of purpose; of betrayal; of bloodshed; of hope. They are implements of war; they have wrought injury and death, wrath and ruin.

But they are also shockingly gentle.

A door held open to let you pass through. A palm on your shoulder to let you know he’s there. An overfull cup of sake passed without a spill…

You lose yourself in thoughts of Zoro, Zoro, Zoro. So much so that you fail to notice the swordsman’s not-so-subtle glances in your direction. He stifles a chuckle at the dreamy expression on your face, and returns to his training.

He may not be able to decipher the longing behind your watch, but your attention is always welcome, as far as he’s concerned.

The Wrong Outfit

Julius Novachrono x Reader

Fandom: BC

Summary: Y/N can’t help but feel hot and bothered from her previous encounter with the Wizard King. Chaos going on in the meeting she’s attending only make things worse, but Julius ends it early so everyone can cool down.

Warnings: Smut/notsfw, teasing, praise

Word Count: 829

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Keep reading

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝 ; an anthology

zoro roronoa x reader ; snippets of increasingly romantic moments between you and the swordsman as you journey with the straw hats.

𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭

❤︎ — the growing tension between you and zoro is boiling under the surface at the party of your latest victory. WC : 5.2k

𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞

❤︎ — another day, another celebration with the straw hats but this time, the truth begins to creep out as zoro begins to let loose.

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰’𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐬𝐭

❤︎ — the ghost of your first kiss rests on your lips, but you’re not the only one feeling haunted by it.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

❤︎ — punk hazard left a chill running down your spine and your favorite swordsman is always right by your side, silent yet sure.

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝

❤︎ — injuries, no matter how big or small, always require the upmost care. at least, that’s what zoro tells himself as he takes his time bandaging you up.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝

❤︎ — the air is lighter and easier to breathe as you make your way to zou to reunite with the rest of the crew, but zoro seems eager for something else.

𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚

❤︎ — being undercover in wano means committing to your roles to avoid suspicion at all costs, something you can use to your advantage.

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦

❤︎ — after the events of wano take place, you and zoro find yourselves having a slow morning filled with thoughts of your future. WC : 1.3k

more may be added to this !