Fun! Natural! Fun!

Unintentional couple behaviour

you two acts like a loving couple all the time, so what happens when someone points it out?

characters: luffy, kidd, katakuri, shanks and mihawk

(zoro, sanji, law, ace and sabo)

a/n: since a loooot asked for more, here I am eheh

words count: around 0.4k - 1.1k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Monkey D. Luffy:

You don’t know when it started.

Maybe it was the way Luffy always stole food from your plate, but make sure to never let anyone else touch it.

Maybe it was how he always grabbed your hand first whenever the crew split up.

Maybe it was how he insisted on napping with you, his head always finding your lap, his arms always looping around you like a makeshift pillow.

Whatever it was, it had been going on for way too long. And the worst part is that you never questioned it.

Until now.

It starts with Sanji.

You’re sitting at the dinner table, picking at your food, when Sanji suddenly snorts “You two should just date already.”

You blink “…What?”

Sanji gestures between you and Luffy “You’re basically a couple anyway.”

You choke on your drink.

Luffy just tilts his head, mid-bite “Huh?”

Sanji raises an eyebrow “Seriously? You guys act like a couple all the time.”

You open your mouth to argue, to deny everything, but then Nami nods “He’s right, you know.”

Usopp grins “Yeah, I mean, have you even seen yourselves?”

Franky chuckles “Super obvious, bro.”

You stare. And then Zoro, of all people, grunts “They’re not wrong.”

Your brain short-circuits. Luffy just blinks at all of them, then turns to you “Wait… are we a couple?”

Your face burns “No!”

The crew groans.

“Oh, come on.”

“You’re in denial.”

“This is painful to watch.”

You glare “We’re just friends!”

Luffy nods “Yeah! Just friends!”

The crew stares. Then Brook smiles “Oh? Then you wouldn’t mind if I asked y/n out on a date?”

Silence.

Then Luffy’s fork snaps in half and the table goes dead quiet.

Luffy grins at Brook, but it’s not his usual happy-go-lucky grin. It’s the grin he wears before picking a fight.

“Yohoho,” Brook laughs nervously “Just kidding.”

Luffy hums, still smiling “Good.”

Your stomach flips because holy shit. That was jealousy. Luffy was jealous... Over you.

The realization haunts you for the rest of the night. Because if Luffy was jealous then what did that mean?

Did he actually—?

No.

No, this is Luffy. He’s just protective. That’s just who he is.

…Right?

You barely sleep, and the next morning you wake up to Luffy in your bed.

Sprawled across your mattress. Arms locked around your waist. Face buried in your shoulder.

Like it’s completely normal.

Like he always does this.

Your heart pounds.

Because—wait!

He does always do this. Every night. Every time you’re on the Sunny, he sneaks into your bed without even asking. And you never questioned it.

Because it was just Luffy.

But now everything feels different.

You slowly try to move, but his grip tightens.

“Mm… don’t go” he mumbles sleepily, lips brushing against your skin.

And that’s it. You lose it.

“LUFFY, WHAT ARE WE?!”

Luffy jerks awake “Huh—?”

“What are we?!” you repeat, flustered as hell.

Luffy rubs his eyes, confused “We’re us.”

You groan “That’s not an answer!”

He tilts his head “What do you mean?”

You gesture wildly “This! Us! The sleeping together! The hand-holding! The food-sharing!”

Luffy suddenly grins “Oh.”

Your heart stops “What do you mean, oh?”

Luffy laughs. And then, without hesitation, he leans in and kisses you.

Soft. Certain.

Like he’s been waiting to do it forever.

You freeze. Your brain short-circuits.

He pulls back, grinning “So? Are we a couple now?”

You gape “…WHAT?!”

Luffy just laughs “Well, we’ve basically been dating this whole time, right?”

Your eye twitches “AND YOU KNEW?!”

Luffy shrugs “I just thought you knew too.”

You sputter, because what the hell. What the actual hell. Luffy just decided you were dating. And you never even noticed.

You flop back onto the bed.

Luffy just grins, tugging you closer “You’re thinking too much” he mumbles, nuzzling against you.

Your heart races.

Your face is burning.

But… maybe the crew was right. Maybe you and Luffy were always meant to be.

Even if you were the last person to realize it.

── .✦ Eustass Kidd:

You’ve always known Kid was the stubborn type. He was gruff, intense, and always had that tough guy act. But lately, you’ve noticed something strange. The more you were around him, the more he didn’t seem to mind you being there. In fact, he almost seemed to expect it.

It starts with those small things, things he doesn’t think twice about. Like when you’re both sitting on the deck, and a gust of wind hits just as you’re about to stand. Before you can catch your balance, Kid’s hand shoots out, steadying you. He doesn’t say anything, but his grip lingers just long enough for you to notice.

“Watch it” he mutters, his usual gruff tone, but there’s something softer behind his eyes. You smile but say nothing. Killer, standing nearby, simply raises an eyebrow before looking away, smirking under his mask.

A few days later, when the crew is at port, you notice Kid keeping an eye on you more than usual. Every time someone gets too close or even bumps into you, his sharp gaze zeroes in, and he doesn’t hesitate to step in between you and whoever’s too close. At one point, a shady pirate from a different crew tries to flirt with you. Before you can even respond, Kid steps forward, pushing the pirate away with a low growl.

“Get lost.”

You blink, surprised at his intensity, but he doesn’t look at you, just at the pirate who’s now backing off.

“Kid, I can handle myself” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Doesn’t mean you should have to” he grumbles under his breath, clearly annoyed by something. He turns away before you can say anything else, muttering about how annoying it is to babysit you. But you know it’s not just that.

The crew knows it too.

Heat lets out a low whistle as he passes by “Damn, Captain, didn’t know you were the protective boyfriend type.”

Kid turns on him with a glare “Shut the hell up.”

Heat just laughs, walking away. You shake your head, but the warmth in your chest lingers.

Then, it all comes to a head one evening. The crew’s just finished a round of celebrations, the ship rocking gently in the quiet of the night. You’re leaning against the rail, enjoying the peace when you feel him behind you.

“Can’t sleep?” Kid asks, his voice low as usual.

You turn around, finding him standing there, arms crossed, the moonlight casting a soft glow over his scowling face.

“I could ask you the same thing” you reply.

There’s a quiet moment as you both stand there, not speaking. His eyes never leave yours, and the tension between you both seems to grow with every passing second.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps approaching. Instinctively, you move closer to Kid. You don’t even think about it, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his hand shifts from where it was casually resting at his side to just hovering near your waist.

The ship creaks, the quiet atmosphere making you both more aware of each other’s presence. He doesn’t speak. Neither do you. His fingers are so close, just barely grazing your side as if to assure himself you’re right there.

The closeness feels… different. Intimate.

You glance up at him “Kid?” you ask softly, your heart beating a little faster.

He doesn’t answer immediately, instead, his eyes flicker over your face, and you can see the internal struggle within him. It’s a battle, and for a second, you think he might just ignore it, keep up the stubborn front.

But then, his hand finally rests against your side. His touch isn’t harsh, but gentle. You don’t pull away.

“I don’t know why I keep doing this shit” he admits, his voice low but clear “But when it comes to you… I don’t want to risk something happening.”

You blink, surprised “Risk what?”

His gaze softens, and the gruffness in his tone fades away. He looks straight at you, the usual deflective annoyance replaced with something more vulnerable.

“I don’t want anyone else near you. Not after I saw that idiot trying to hit on you.”

You smile, your heart fluttering in your chest “Kid, I’m not a damsel in distress.”

“I know,” he replies quickly, but there’s no hiding the quiet affection in his voice now “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and before you can even respond, something unspoken passes between you both. In a split second, his lips are near yours, and the kiss is soft, almost hesitant, like he’s still not sure if he’s allowed to show this side of himself.

But you kiss him back, your hand gently resting against his chest. The kiss lingers for a moment longer than either of you anticipated, but it feels like the world has paused, like this is the only thing that matters in that moment.

When you pull away, you both stand there in silence, but this time, it’s not awkward. It’s comfortable.

And then the moment is completely shattered by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You both snap your heads toward the entrance to the deck, where Killer and Wire are standing, watching with amused expressions.

“So,” Wire says, smirking, “you two finally gonna admit you’re basically married, or should we keep pretending this isn’t happening?”

Your face heats up immediately, but Kid just groans, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Go to hell” he grumbles.

Killer just shakes his head “Too late, Captain. Everyone’s been taking bets on when you’d figure it out.”

You gape “What?”

Wire grins “Yeah. Heat won. He said you’d kiss before the next port. Guess we owe him a round of drinks.”

Kid looks absolutely done. You, on the other hand, can’t help but laugh. Because honestly? It’s not surprising.

You look back up at Kid, who’s still scowling but isn’t pulling away from you. You squeeze his hand briefly before grinning.

“Guess we were the last ones to know, huh?”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head, but there’s no real annoyance in his expression anymore. Just acceptance. And maybe, just maybe, the start of something real.

── .✦ Red-Haired Shanks:

Being part of the Red Hair Pirates meant living in a constant mess of drinking, laughing, and reckless adventures.

And somehow you ended up being the most responsible one. Which was probably why everyone assumed you and Shanks were together.

The problem?

You weren’t.

But apparently, no one got the memo.

It starts with Yasopp.

You’re in the middle of patching up Shanks’ arm because, once again, he got into a bar fight for fun, when Yasopp smirks at you from across the deck.

“You know,” he says casually, “you’re basically married to him at this point.”

You nearly stab Shanks with the needle.

“What?!”

Shanks, meanwhile, just laughs.

And the worst part? He doesn’t even deny it.

“C’mon,” Yasopp continues, “you take care of him, clean up after him, yell at him when he’s reckless...”

“I yell at all of you.”

“Yeah, but you baby him.”

Shanks grins “It’s true. You do.”

You glare “I do not.”

Shanks just shrugs “If you say so.”

And that should be the end of it. But it’s not.

Because after that the whole crew starts treating you like... ugh.

“Oi, Y/N! Can you grab Shanks another drink?”

“Y/N, tell the captain to stop picking fights with Marines again.”

“Hey, Y/N, Shanks says he wants something spicy, maybe you could help... and it's not about food”

You want to scream.

But Shanks?

Shanks just goes along with it. Smiling. Laughing. Letting everyone assume you’re his.

And the worst part is that you let them, because deep down you don’t hate the idea.

And that’s dangerous.

Then one night, it all clicks.

You’re sitting at a bonfire, surrounded by the crew, listening to them sing and drink and bicker over who can hold their liquor best.

You’re not paying attention until you hear your name.

“So, Captain,” Lucky Roux says, “when’s the wedding?”

You choke on your drink. But before you can argue, Shanks just grins.

“Oh, give it time.”

The crew erupts into laughter.

You just stare at him.

Because... what????

Shanks turns to you, smiling like he didn’t just casually imply he plans on marrying you.

And something in his expression—

Something warm. Something knowing.

It hits you all at once.

The hand-holding. The lingering touches. The way he always pulls you onto his lap when there’s no room to sit.

The way he lets you fuss over him when he gets hurt, the way he only ever listens to you.

The way he looks at you like you’re something precious.

Your heart pounds.

And Shanks just grins against your lips.

“Took you long enough” he murmurs.

And when you pull back, breathless, flustered, you realize that maybe you’ve been his this whole time.

You blink, heart still racing as the weight of his words settles in. The laughter of the crew fades into background noise, the warmth of the bonfire casting flickering shadows over Shanks’ face. He’s watching you, waiting, like he already knows the answer, like he’s known it for years.

And maybe he has.

Maybe he’s been waiting for you to catch up.

Your throat is dry. You open your mouth, but no words come out, just a strangled sound of disbelief.

Shanks chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners “You alright there, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like he hasn’t just upended everything you thought you knew.

Your hands tighten in his shirt, and you can’t tell if it’s to ground yourself or to pull him closer “You...” you swallow, voice quieter now, meant just for him “You should’ve said something...”

He tilts his head, considering “I thought I did. Plenty of times.”

You scowl, smacking his chest lightly, which only makes him laugh “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, I know.” His fingers brush your jaw, featherlight, reverent “I just like seeing you all flustered.”

You groan, but you don’t pull away. And well, that says everything, doesn’t it?

And Shanks knows it too, because his grin softens, something unreadable flickering in his gaze “So,” he murmurs, close enough that his breath tickles your lips, “now that you’ve finally figured it out, what do you plan to do about it?”

The challenge is there, teasing, but there’s something raw beneath it, something real.

You take a breath. Then, before you can overthink it, you grab the front of his coat and pull him in, kissing him again, firmer this time.

The crew erupts in cheers. Someone whistles. Someone else yells about winning a bet.

But all you can focus on is the way Shanks smiles against your lips, like he’s just won something far more important.

And maybe you have too.

── .✦ Charlotte Katakuri:

The first time someone calls you Katakuri’s spouse, you nearly drop your mochi donut.

“Excuse me, what?”

The Big Mom Pirates stare at you like you’re stupid.

“Well, yeah,” Oven says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “You take care of him, he lets you into his tea time, you’re the only one who sees his face—”

Brûlée smirks “And you always defend him when people talk behind his back.”

Daifuku nods “Might as well be married already.”

You sputter “That doesn’t mean—! We’re not—! He’s just my commander!”

Oven raises an eyebrow “You ever see Katakuri treat anyone else the way he treats you?”

You freeze.

Because... okay.

That’s a good point.

Katakuri isn’t exactly warm with people. He’s respected, feared, distant. A perfectionist. The strongest Sweet Commander.

And yet, with you?

He lets you tease him. Lets you see him.

Lets you in.

Your stomach flips.

And you don’t know what to do with that.

You try to forget about it.

But after that you start noticing things.

The way Katakuri always saves you the best snacks at tea time.

The way he steps in front of you during battles without thinking.

The way he lets you touch him, his arm, his back, his face.

His unguarded moments are always with you.

And suddenly you can’t ignore it.

Neither can the crew.

It all comes to a head one evening.

You’re sitting with Katakuri in his usual spot, tea cooling beside him, the setting sun casting a warm glow over his sharp features. He’s eating, as usual, but his guard is down because you’re here.

And then the words slip out.

“…Katakuri.”

He glances at you, chewing “Hm?”

You hesitate. Then screw it.

“Are we… something?”

Katakuri pauses.

Slowly, he sets his cup down. Then he exhales, like he’s been waiting for this.

“You tell me,” he says, voice steady “Would it bother you if we were?”

Your heart pounds. Because no, it wouldn’t.

You swallow “No.”

Katakuri watches you for a long moment. Then, he smirks.

“Then I suppose we are.”

Your brain short-circuits.

“Wait—WHAT?!”

Katakuri chuckles, low and deep “Did you really think I’d let just anyone this close to me?”

You gasp, because hold on. Has he known this whole time?!

Your face burns “You could’ve said something sooner, you jerk!”

Katakuri just leans closer, his presence overwhelming.

“…Would you have been ready to hear it?”

You freeze, because damn it.

He’s right.

── .✦ Dracule Mihawk:

Living on Kuraigana Island with Mihawk isn’t easy, but somehow, you get used to it.

You get used to the silence. The way he watches you over the rim of his wine glass. The way he corrects your sword stance with the barest touch of his fingers.

You get used to the way he does things for you without asking, bringing you an extra plate at meals, fixing your sword when it’s damaged, moving his coat so you don’t sit on the cold stone steps.

It’s just how he is... Or so you think.

Until one day Perona stares at the two of you across the dining table and snorts.

“You guys act like a married couple.”

You choke on your drink. Mihawk just raises an eyebrow.

Perona grins “Oh, come on! You live together, train together, eat together—hell, you even drink out of each other’s cups sometimes!”

You freeze.

Because—wait. When did that start happening?!

You sneak a glance at Mihawk, expecting him to argue.

But instead, he just takes a sip of wine and says, “And?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Because what does he mean, ‘and’?!

Perona cackles “Oh, this is gold.”

Meanwhile, you’re too busy spiraling to notice the small, knowing smirk on Mihawk’s lips.

Because the truth is, he knew all along.

The next few days pass in a strange haze. Every time you’re near Mihawk, you’re hyper-aware of his actions. The way he hands you your sword when it’s too heavy for you to lift properly, the way he adjusts your stance when you’re practicing, even the way he leaves his wine glass half-filled so you can sip it without asking.

You can’t help but start noticing the little things. And it makes your stomach do these strange little flips you can’t quite explain.

You try to convince yourself that you’re just overthinking it. After all, you’ve spent so much time together, working side-by-side, that it’s only natural for him to be a bit… attentive. But you can’t help but feel that there’s more to it than that.

One evening, you’re training in the yard. Mihawk is watching from the porch, as usual, but today there’s something different in the air. Maybe it’s the cool breeze, or the strange feeling of him staring at you.

“Focus” he calls out when you fumble with your sword.

You grit your teeth and refocus, sweat already beading on your forehead. Your movements become sharper, more determined, but you can’t quite shake the feeling that something is… off.

When you finish the routine, Mihawk’s still leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. He doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel his gaze. You give him a quick, sideways glance, noticing the faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Something wrong?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

His response comes as a slow, deliberate drawl “You still aren’t quite in sync with your sword. I’ve been waiting for you to catch up.”

You feel your face flush, but you push through it “Yeah? Well, I’m not some grandmaster swordsman like you, Mihawk.”

He steps closer, his presence almost overwhelming, but his gaze softens for a moment “You’re getting better. I’m simply making sure you don’t lose track of your progress.”

The softness in his voice catches you off-guard, and for a split second, you feel as if you’re standing on the edge of something, something new.

But you quickly push it aside, shaking it off as just another passing thought. You turn to grab your sword again, determined to change the subject.

“Thanks for the help,” you mutter, trying to keep your voice steady “But I think I need a break. My arms are sore.”

Mihawk doesn’t respond at first. Instead, he merely watches you for a moment before he speaks again, his tone unusually gentle.

“Are you sure you’re fine? You’ve been training for hours without rest.”

You give him a small, appreciative nod “I’ll be fine. You’re too used to looking out for me, Mihawk.”

He lets out a faint chuckle, but you notice that there’s a strange intensity in his gaze now “I suppose I am.”

Before you can react, you feel something slightly off, a flicker of tension between you two.

It’s subtle, but it’s there. And you feel it in the way he looks at you, the way he almost seems to be waiting for you to say something.

But, just like that, the moment passes. He steps back, motioning for you to take a rest.

“I’ll prepare dinner,” he says quietly, as if nothing had happened “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

You blink “You cook?”

“Of course,” he says with a slight, almost invisible smirk “It’s not difficult, and you’ve been working hard all day. You deserve a proper meal.”

You feel your heart race at his words, but you manage to keep it together “Alright, I’ll take you up on that.”

But as Mihawk turns to walk away, you pause.

For just a second, you wonder... has this always been a normal interaction between you two? Or has it grown into something more without you even realizing it?

The unease gnaws at you as you sit down on the steps, watching him disappear into the house.

You’re overthinking it. You’re just friends.

...Right?

Later that evening, you’re sitting across from Mihawk, your meal already finished. The conversation is easy, but there’s still that lingering, unspoken tension hanging in the air.

Finally, Mihawk breaks the silence, his voice low and casual “You’ve been avoiding the subject.”

Your brow furrows in confusion “What subject?”

“The subject of us.”

You choke on your drink, sputtering “What—us?!”

His expression remains unreadable, but there’s a faint glimmer in his eyes “You think I haven’t noticed? You’ve been acting strange around me lately. Ever since Perona made her comment.”

You freeze “I—uh—”

“Let’s stop pretending,” he continues “We’ve been behaving like a couple, whether we admit it or not.”

Your heart starts to race. You open your mouth to deny it, but the words get stuck. Instead, you just stare at him, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.

And that’s when Mihawk leans forward just slightly, his voice dropping lower “I don’t know what you’re feeling, but I do know that I don’t want you to leave.”

The bluntness of his words takes your breath away.

“I never planned to leave” you manage to say, the words barely leaving your lips.

Mihawk gives you a rare, genuine smile, one that’s so small and almost imperceptible that you’re not sure you saw it at all. But something in his eyes shifts.

“Good.”

And just like that, the tension finally breaks.

You’re not sure where this will go. But for now, you’re content to just be here with him, uncertain, but sure of one thing: neither of you are going anywhere.

2K notes View Post

valen-yamyam16

3 years ago

British boy

Secrets (18+)

Chapter 1 of 2 - Katakuri x (Accountant) Fem! Reader

3.5k words

warnings: nsfw, oral, possessiveness, not beta read, i don't know why i made reader an accountant

You’d only moved to Totto Land within the year, but managed to land a decent job working in Komugi Island’s governing body thanks to your previous job at a sugar mill.

Working for pirates was new to you, but finances were not. Calculations of purchases and order slips covered your desk as you punched numbers into a snail calculator. Your notes were impeccably detailed and color coded, and they had to be. You had inherited a rather messy situation. You’d been taken on to balance the books—your hire a personal request from Katakuri, who had become concerned that the previous assignee had been pocketing berries and corrupting the financial balance of Komugi’s wheat production. You found that his concerns were well founded.

Katakuri clearly had the skills to be performing this work himself, but his role as minister kept him busy. It gave you some comfort that he had a level of familiarity with your work, as you were the current lone employee within Komugi’s finance department. Everyone else had been ran off by the corruption scandal, so you were alone in the office.

Moving to a new area with no friends, no family, you had no one to talk to except this large man working down the hall whose work ethic matched your own. It was nice to have someone around who understood your struggles, even if it was because you were the only two people left in the donut-shaped building after the sun set, plucking away at complicated problems that others had left behind.

Over time, you grew fond of him. Seeing the shadow of his large frame pass by the hallway near your desk and the familiar clinking of his spurred heels became reasons to stay. And you wondered if he felt the same. But you were a nobody. Just a random accountant filling in for a department shattered by corruption, up to your ears in work.

And yet, one day, the soft leather of the worn glove on his hand brushed against your body as you walked past him.

The next day, you caught the edge of his glance as he’d been looking at you. He pretended to be looking somewhere else.

A few months passed, and it continued on in this way. Coincidences. Seemingly manufactured reasons to come near you. The subtle floury scent of mochi entering your nostrils as he checks for a document just behind your chair—was he watching you?

You thought you might be brave enough to ask why, but every time you gathered up the nerve, something happened. Sometimes, he’d interrupt you with a question. Other times, he’d simply be gone the moment your mouth began to open.

Sitting at your desk with a pile of work unfinished after most of the work force had already clocked out, you asked questions in your mind. Why was this massive man showing up in the corner of your eye more frequently, more coincidentally…? Coincidence—could it be? The perfect Katakuri, rumored to be able to see the future, is not a man subject to mere coincidence. But to think that he’d have been near you on purpose? Something must be wrong. Was he suspicious of something you did? Could it be that he was wary of your loyalties? Despite your liking of him, you could not comprehend that your feelings could be reciprocated. Everyone liked him. And he was single. He was in his forties, and single.

“In his forties,” you pondered to yourself. Attractive, fit, employed, in his forties, and single. It echoed back and forth in your mind. There’s clearly something bad you don’t know about him, otherwise, he’d be married. That was the logical conclusion. You knew many men and women less desirable who had been hitched for years.

“Maybe he wasn’t single,” you thought to yourself, “or maybe he is now and he has a dead wife and”—, you continued internally, crafting a whole backstory for this man who you truly knew little about beyond the legendary reputation and sparkling politeness. You blinked and snapped back to reality at the sound of a creak.

Katakuri was standing in the doorway, eyebrow raised inquisitively above his fluffy scarf. To your surprise, he spoke. “Break?”

—

Despite your protests that there was still work to do, Katakuri convinced you to take a quick walk outside with him. “Sugar is strength” was one of the most curious arguments you’d heard in favor of dropping work for a meal. But it worked on you. The sugar coated lands of Totto Land were sometimes overwhelming even for someone with the biggest sweet tooth, but you could not pass down a cake. It was Friday, and this week had been especially chaotic. Katakuri’s distracting presence throwing your emotions into a girlish crush, and the sheer volume of work still ahead of you to untangle the web of financial missteps and lies—you could stand to take a little time off to clear your head. And to do it with the man putting your thoughts into a jumble was the perfect excuse.

Side by side, you had walked together to a local sweets shop in the nearby downtown area of Komugi Island. While you’d spent a good amount of time talking to him while seated, you’d not had many chances to stand next to Katakuri. How small you felt as you were at his side, clutching your bag to your chest nervously. You looked at his gloved hand and realized how small your bag would look in his palm if he were to hold it—a mere coin purse for a man his size.

You took three steps for his every one stride of his long legs, but he was not hard to keep up with. He consciously walked slowly so you could keep up, already adjusted to the gaits of smaller beings. You wondered how many people he had walked with, and why. Was this going to be some kind of interrogation? You felt his eyes on you as the hairs on your neck prickled.

—

The moon peeked out through a cloudy window in the overcast sky. You and Katakuri sat together at a table that hardly accommodated his legs on the back patio of the sweets shop, sharing a cinnamon roll donut, each sipping caffeine. You’d ordered a cappuccino, the frothed milk balancing out the bitterness of the espresso, a perfect pairing for a sweet donut, you thought. Katakuri had ordered a vanilla latte, one you noticed he’d stirred an extra packet of sugar into before heading outside to sit with you. It didn’t surprise you that the Sweet Commander had a sweet tooth, but made you smile regardless. It made such a serious man look so unserious.

You shared a rather awkward conversation about the weather, unsure of what to talk about. He didn’t maintain eye contact or seem interested, nor did he reach for his cup, or his share of the donut. Though you could swear parts of it were disappearing every time you looked away. He sat there stiff as a board, hardly looking comfortable. Your fear that you were in some sort of trouble melted away as his lack of charisma softened the waves of anxiety crashing against your mind.

You hardened your resolve, and straightened your posture. “So…was there something you wanted? I noticed you’d been around my office more lately. I combed through my notes, but I don’t think I owe you anything…or am I forgetting something?” You asked earnestly. Katakuri looked away again, off into the distant sky, a visible gulp traveling through his bare chest. “Well…” he responded.

Something in his eyes flashed and a wave of confidence was brought over him. He leaned down close to the table, close to your face, and looked into your eyes.

“I was wondering if you’d go out with me. And before you respond: no, I do not have a dead wife. I’m single, and have been most of my life. Things don’t usually turn out well for me in the romance department.” In your head, the gears turned. “But what about his dead wife. Is he talking about his dead wife?!,” you thought, until you realized he’d already addressed that. You were dumbfounded. Such is the power of Katakuri, the man who sees the future.

You didn’t respond, so he continued.

“You want to ask, “why me?” But the answer is straightforward. I like you. I apologize if I am being too forward,” he said as he sat up straight again, hiding a bit of himself in his fluffy scarf.

He continued. “It’s…it’s okay if you don’t want to.” Your silence was deafening, and with his concentration lost, he scrambled to view the future. He bit his lip underneath his scarf.

Seeing cracks in Katakuri’s armor was endearing, and just made you like him more. Maybe there really was nothing to be afraid of. Everything felt so sudden, so unexpected—how could he like you? Why? When? But you already knew your answer.

You responded simply. “I’d like to.”

—

The man who had once been a mysterious stranger slowly transformed from the other overworked person down the hallway, to a kind and thoughtful partner. As time passed, the love between you bloomed slowly and sweetly, like sweet-smelling flowers growing on the riverbank of a slow-moving stream. Katakuri stayed a reserved man, careful not to impose. He was gentlemanly with a minor sarcastic streak that you’d begun to know. With such a perfect image, you cherished the little oddities that leaked out of his stone exterior.

The way he praised you, respected you, and listened to you speak gave you confidence. While you’d initially been suspicious of his interest in you, you began to realize it was genuine, and you hoped that you could offer him the same reassurance that he offered to you.

—

When he had first revealed his face to you, you found it endearing the way he’d moved so unsurely. There was fear in his eyes, afraid of rejection, or worse, as he craned his neck down towards you in your first visit to his bedroom. You sat together on his massive bed, your feet unable to touch the floor. Attempting to initiate a kiss, you climbed up his body and touched the side of his face gently behind his scarf, planting a small kiss on his ear. He removed the scarf slowly, a bit shakily. He maintained eye contact as if you’d disappear if he looked away or blinked. But once his scarf was removed, you hardly even noticed the fangs protruding from scarred lips as you looked into his eyes and smiled at him, full of adoration, as you leaned into your first kiss together. The extra large teeth felt warm against your cheeks so you kissed them too, causing him to flush a deep red. “Handsome,” you said with a smile.

The next secret of his that he revealed was that of his merienda—the meditative break he’d been known to take once a day in the afternoon with a pile of hand delivered treats to concentrate on. One day, he invited you—come at 3:15pm sharp, and do it quietly. He didn’t want anyone to know that you’d entered. Slipping away from work early, you dressed up in your most comfortable clothes in anticipation of a strength training routine. Little did you know, the workout you’d get was not part of any training regimen…

—

As you entered the harrowed shrine of the mochi halls, you were immediately blasted with a kaleidoscope of pinks, purples, blues, and reds, covered in rainbow sprinkles. Smells assaulted your senses with an overwhelming sweetness that reminded you of your first date with Katakuri. You walked forward, stunned by what you were seeing, and stepped directly onto an oversized cream filled donut which squirted all over your clothing. You started to slip backward but were caught moments before disaster by your partner’s large arms.

His scarf was already off, you noticed, as he smiled down at you with a bit of pink frosting on his chin. “Careful there, darling.” Katakuri gave you a kiss on the lips. He tasted like a strawberry donut.

“What’s all this?” You asked with a playful tone as you gestured to the interior of his personal mochi palace. Littered with donuts and sweets, you were not entirely surprised that Katakuri had another secret hidden behind that perfect visage of his.

Still carrying you, Katakuri carefully stepped to the center of the donut pile where a stash of large pillows lay. He sat down and rested you upon his lap in a comfortable seated position with one arm on your back, beaming at you with a goofy grin that almost reminded you of a child. It was strange to see his usually serious face painted with such a genuine smile, but you felt it looked natural on him. You wished you could see it more.

“This is the true face of my merienda. The true face of me. It’s my secret,” he spoke from the heart. “I never thought I’d have wanted to share this with anyone. No one, until I met you.”

You blushed. In your time with him, he had always been a straightforward man, but romance was not his forte. He often stood there awkward, stiff, with few words or actions of comfort, no silver tongue to sweep you off your feet. But in this case, his bare-faced honesty, the grin, the little bits of food on his face and clothes added a level of trust you’d not yet breached.

“I feel honored,” you replied. “You’re really not what you seem. You still surprise me every day.”

Katakuri smiled in response. Still holding you, he used his other arm to pick up a beautifully crafted and very oversized yeast donut with frosted glaze that glittered in the sunlight dripping from the small windows in the ceiling. “I saved this for you,” he went on. “It’s my favorite.”

He fed you carefully, allowing you to take a healthy bite of the cherished donut without getting it on your hands or face. Its texture was perfectly light and fluffy, and the sweetness not too overwhelming, balanced with a vanilla flavor that rounded out the flavor.

As you happily let him continue to feed you the wonderful donut, Katakuri pondered. “As you know, this is my daily routine. It helps me keep up with the stresses of my every day life.”

Katakuri’s eyes narrowed, and you felt him inhale sharply beneath you. “…And I can’t help but notice that you need to relax, too.”

—

You don’t know how long it’d been since 3:15pm. How long it took for you and your partner, Katakuri, to finish the helping of fresh, warm donuts piled into the center of the mochi shrine, how long you laughed at how adorable he looked with his mouth full of donuts like a hamster, how embarrassingly long you stared at how large his tongue was, or how long it took for you to climb up his body to look into his eyes like this, your body pressed against his as he laid on his back. But you knew you didn’t want it to end.

Ever-so-gently, you kissed the bits of frosting and pastry off his body. “Mustn’t go to waste,” he teased. You smirked back in agreement, and you felt the tension completely leave his body as he melted into your touch. Your small figure slowly explored the bare inches of him and more, investigating the soft skin under his vest, and taste-testing the happy trail leading down between his hips to unknown pleasures.

Katakuri repositioned, bringing a gloved finger to touch your cheek. Due to his height, his hands were three times the average height of man’s, but his build was slender, and his attention was gentle. The soft lambskin brushed against your face as he looked at you intently, holding your chin up as you moved to sit on his chest.

“Your turn,” he said.

Effortlessly, he removed your dirtied clothes with a single hand, and you sat before him in your underwear. His gloved hand grasped your front, palm flat against your stomach, fingers touching your shoulders and breasts as he circled his thumb on your skin. He continued this for some time, feeling your body, rubbing against you softly. You felt heat building up between your legs, staining your underwear with excitement. You wanted to feel his skin.

You leaned down to kiss the tip of his finger, and reached for the edges of his glove. He allowed you to pull it off, revealing the soft hand of a man who took careful care of his skin. His fingers were long and spindly, hairless, with pronounced knuckles and joints. His age showed in his hands, unlike in his eternally young face. The skin was lightly translucent, showing the veins beneath. He used his teeth to pull off the other glove, and tossed both to the side.

Your eagerness was infectious. Katakuri grabbed each of your legs and spread you open as you sat upon his body, holding onto you with an iron grip. Resting his thumbs just out of reach of your underwear, he looked up at you with an inquisitive brow. You bit your lip and shivered a bit in excitement, and nodded, goading him on.

He placed the tips of his thumbs against your slick with the lightest pressure, rubbing you up and down with a pace that made you ache for more. The slow up and down motion of his thumbs felt like rolling waves, building pleasurable pressure in your innards. As he watched you begin to lose your composure, he licked his lips thinking of what was to come.

Katakuri rubbed his large thumbs against your clit in varying motions, his skill for this undeniable. Had he been with other women before? You really had no idea, and at this point, you really didn’t care. Your underwear was soaked and you wanted more.

As you pulled at the edges of your underwear, he spurred into action. He snapped them off with a single flick of his fingers, ripping them into an unwearable sheet of cloth, and slid you up towards his face, your depths calling to him. He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose, exhaling with a grin.

“You smell delicious,” he said with a low grumble.

A little more awkwardly, he continued, asking as his nibbled his lip: “May I taste you? I don’t bite.”

You vibrated excitingly at the thought of his almost inhuman tongue entering your body. How will it feel? It’s so big! You nodded, using your fingers to open your achingly wet folds towards him. His large tongue slipped out from between his teeth as he pulled you into him, resting your legs carefully on his fangs and cheeks as to not hurt you.

Katakuri’s tongue slowly licked and prodded at your entrance, careful to savor your juices with an audible gulp. The flat of his tongue pressing against your ass and pussy felt like nothing you’d quite experienced before. The cool saliva of his mouth and the warm heat building up within you intertwined with the slow rocking of your hips towards him.

His hands slid over your skin, keeping your legs steady and holding you firm, as he increased the pace in which he devoured you. The feeling of his tongue slipping up and down your core was intense, and your body began to shake from the pleasure against his firm grip—every inch of your most sensitive areas were being engulfed with wet warmth and you let out a muffled moan.

Barely able to open your eyes, you peered down at him. His brow was furrowed, concentrated so intently, such perfect concentration, and you watched as he enjoyed the meal he’d made of you. His large hands looked even larger against your thighs, thick fingers pressing into the fat of your leg with a satisfying squish that held you locked in position until he was done with you.

You moaned again, body recoiling, and he responded with a low growl, holding your legs more strongly, with a powerful grip that may leave marks later. If you’d been sound enough of mind, you’d have compared him to a beast who had snapped at someone trying to take its food.

His closed eyes now opened and looked straight up at you with ferocity, as he continued his rapid licking, with a distinct possessiveness you had never seen from him. “Mine,” the words shot into your head from the look in his eyes.

That pushed you over the edge.

Your body suddenly tensed itself so hard that you could barely breathe, barely think. Then a wave of pleasure crashed over you like a great tsunami. With a great release, your heart rate began to slow, your muscles relaxed, as your pleasure spurted into Katakuri’s mouth. Katakuri’s fervent licking slowed to match yours as he marinated in your scent, taking care not to let any of your juices fall to the floor.

Still, he held onto you so tight. Your body felt like it came back down from floating, and you landed firmly in his hands, his face still at your lower half.

Katakuri licked his lips. He found his boldness.

“More.”

He was still hungry.

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valen-yamyam16

1 month ago