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httpsclarye · 7 months

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#GOOD LOKING+!

Your plan was quick and simple. You would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. You weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, big dick sanji, kitchen sex, blow job, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, sanji moaning, p in v type of sex.

Ao3: Good Looking

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!

You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.

Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.

Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.

“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.

Barechested. Topless. Half naked.

“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”

You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.

“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”

"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.

“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”

“I could not sleep”

“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”

“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”

You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.

You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?

“Are you and Luffy close then?”

The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.

“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”

“I remember that. You were so naive”

Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so…

“Not anymore.”

He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.

“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.

You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.

He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.

“What dear? See something you lik-”

You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.

“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”

He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.

You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.

His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.

“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”

You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.

”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”

He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.

You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.

You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.

“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”

You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.

His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.

"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”

You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.

“My love, you are so perfec-“

A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.

“I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.

He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.

You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.

“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.

He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.

Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?

You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.

“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”

It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.

“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”

You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.

He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.

He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.

He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.

"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”

You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.

“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“

He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.

In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.

He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.

You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.

“Sanji, p-please more”

"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.

It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.

"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”

The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.

“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”

It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.

Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.

He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”

Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.

“Do you think anyone heard?”

“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”

“Next time, huh?

Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.

"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”

"And you should go shirtless more often too.”

"Only for you, my love.”

You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.

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puranami · 5 months

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✿ Omelette ✿

A/N: A little fic based on one of the prompts I have~

Summary: Sanji finds you cooking an omelette in your underwear at an ungodly hour.

Content: Warning - my really bad attempt at writing anything outside of lil paragraph points (blz help, I have no idea what I'm doing)

Despite the scenario - it's all SFW and fluffy like dem eggs! A light dusting of pining, G/N reader. ✿

(Part 2) - (Part 3)

You had tried to sleep and ignore the rumbling in your stomach, but the harder you tried, the more you felt it, and you had finally reached your limit. If you were to be at all functional tomorrow, you needed to eat something. Only then could you try to sleep again.

Exhausted, you drag yourself from the safety and warmth of your blankets, slowly ambling towards the ship's kitchen, single-minded in your endeavour. All that mattered was appeasing your stomach, leaving you completely unaware of the sudden cold that embraced you once you had left the confines of your quarters.

Flicking on the kitchen light, you quickly gathered everything you needed, deciding that the best thing to make would be an omelette. It's an easy dish, filling, and doesn't take long to make. In other words; it was perfect!

You make quick work of prepping the eggs, seasoning to taste, even considering throwing a little cheese in there before deciding against it. It's not like you believed the myth of cheese giving people nightmares if eaten before bed, but you were so desperate to be able to sleep afterwards that you didn't want to risk it. Stranger things have happened on this ship.

The pan hisses as you pour in the eggs, sounding much louder in the empty kitchen, only amplified by the late hour.

"Don't you sass me," you grumble, "The middle of the night is a perfectly acceptable time for an omelette!"

Unbeknownst to you, you weren't the only one awake on the ship, and your late night excursion had attracted attention, clearly not having noticed any of the noise you were making.

"I thought Luffy had snuck in on a midnight raid with all the clattering," a groggy voice behind you laughs, but you are too tired and focused on cooking to even register that you had been joined by anyone. Sanji leans against the table opposite the kitchen island, fidgeting with the hem of his nightshirt, waiting for an answer that never came.

Surely you heard him, right?

"Is everything alright, darling?"

Nothing.

Terms of endearment usually prompted some kind of response, be it a dismissive laugh or an equally fond term of your own, clearly thinking they meant nothing in particular. He'd accepted pretty quickly that they wouldn't be the way to win you over, but it certainly didn't stop him using them, at least on you. The same couldn't be said about everyone else, as he was no longer vying for the affection of anyone but yourself. Sanji wondered if you'd ever noticed that.

A clumsy flip of the omelette brought him back into the moment, honestly surprised that you hadn't dropped it on the floor.

He moved his way to your side of the kitchen, round the central island toward the stovetop.

"Why are you cooking at this hhhh-" he wheezed at the end, only now seeing that you weren't in the pyjama bottoms he'd assumed you'd be wearing, but in your underwear.

He clasped one of his hands over his mouth, the other grabbing the island for support as he felt his legs begin to fail him. Keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, he blurts out, "W-WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS?" as his face went fully crimson.

That finally gets your attention, but you are slow on the uptake, mind completely glazing over the fact that you had at some point gained an observer. Finally, furrowing your brows a little, you murmured a soft "What?" You knew a question was asked, but nothing else beyond that.

"Your pants, darling!" he gestures wildly, continuing to look down, knowing if that he caught sight of your bare legs again, he would lose his mind.

You stand there, pan hovering in the air away from the stove in one hand, a plate in the other, looking absolutely lost; you had completed your mission of acquiring omelette, and so your brain had decided it was no longer needed. Looking down, you see your legs and feet, wiggling your toes a little, then you look back up at the mess of a man in front of you, things finally starting to fall into place in your overtired mind.

"Oh, Sanji, what are you doing here," you ask, sweet as anything, completely ignorant to the battle he was waging internally. Once you plate your omelette, you place it on the island before putting the pan back on the stove to cool and grabbing a fork to tuck in, oblivious to Sanji frantically unbuttoning his night shirt beside you. He refuses to look directly at you until he has covered you with it, cheeks noticeably burning with how flustered he is.

"Darling, you can't do that to me," he says, almost breathless, "I am a weak, weak man; I can't handle seeing you so bare!" He manipulates your arms into the sleeves of his nightshirt, ignoring your protests when he briefly pulls the fork out of your hand in the process, before buttoning you up, doing his best to preserve your dignity.

As you feel the warm sustenance finally begin to settle in your empty stomach, you feel your brain booting back up, at least a little bit.

"Ah, shit I forgot to put on pants..." You giggle, wondering why everything was always funnier when you were tired. Taking another bite of food, you look down at your legs once again, starting to fully comprehend the situation you found yourself in. "I guess I was just too hungry." He can't help but sigh at how nonchalant you are.

Looking back up, your brain once again decides to abandon you, not from how tired you are this time, but from your eyes being met with his bare chest and abs, causing your own face to turn a charming shade of red. Sanji was always so neatly dressed, so he most you ever saw was his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves to work. It made sense that he was in good shape given his fighting ability, but it never really hit you until you saw his body tonight. There wasn't really any way to get accustomed to it, not like there was with someone like Zoro, who had his shirt off at least half the times you saw him, flashing his man tits whenever and wherever he damn well pleased.

Sanji's eyes never left you during this quiet minute, one that felt like hours, and he couldn't help but feel a hint of pride when he watched your eyes dance over his shirtless body, clearly flustered, bringing a confident smile to his face.

"Everything alright down there, sweetheart," he laughed softly.

You were clearly lost in your thoughts, it finally clicking why he was shirtless; he'd put his shirt on you. You brought a long sleeve up to your face as you dragged your eyes away, looking awkwardly to the side to your recently emptied plate. The shirt smelt like him, only without the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. It was sweet and musky. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but you felt a wave of feelings crash into you. Feelings you knew were there but had simply brushed aside, assuming they were just a result of his natural charm more than anything. But, you couldn't so easily disregard them now.

Sanji followed your gaze. "Ah, don't you worry about that, my dear," he says, grabbing the plate and bringing it to the sink, leaving you standing in a bit of a daze. "I'll take care of things here, so you go and get yourself back to bed, alright?"

"Oh, no!" You couldn't help how loud that ended up being, surprising the both of you. "You shouldn't have to clean up my mess," you say with a more regulated volume. If there's one way to get you back in the present, it's offering to do something you feel solely responsible for.

"In all fairness, darling, you shouldn't have been cooking in my kitchen in a state of undress," his cheeks started to go pink at the recent memory. He clears his throat before continuing, "Do you know how dangerous that is?" Ah, the professional chef just can't help himself when it comes to kitchen rules.

You pout slightly as you lean back against the centre island.

"Sorry, Sanji. I wasn't really with it. Too tired, too hungry..."

He makes quick work of the dirty items you had used, all while prattling on about safety and other things you probably should have listened to. Drying his hands, he makes his way back to you. It is evident you hadn't really been paying attention.

"At least promise me this," you look up at his warm, smiling face, "if you ever find yourself in this predicament again, please come and get me."

He brushes back some loose strands of hair, tucking them neatly behind your ear.

"You know that I'm always happy to cook for you, right? Whatever you want, whenever you want it."

Returning a gentle smile of your own, you nod.

"I promise."

With that, Sanji leads you out of the kitchen, plunging it back into darkness as he flicks the light off.

You reach his quarters first since he's closest to the kitchen. He pauses outside his door, hesitating for a moment. There are so many things he wanted to say to you, yet he couldn't bring himself to utter a single word.

Oblivious, you carry on toward your own room, turning back to him to wish him a good night, nearly falling over your own feet in the process, to which he smiles, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Bonne nuit, ma chère."

Guys, gals, and non-binary pals; I tried my best! This is my very first full fic ever, so if the grammar, wording, presentation, literally anything is bad; it's bc I am completely winging it! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

#one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x you #sanji x reader #sanji x you

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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months

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Dark!Naga!Gojo Satoru x reader x Dark!Naga!Geto Suguru

Top of the Food Chain

I've always wanted to continue my naga!mha fic but considering i dont write for deku+co anymore, i decided to move my au a couple fandoms over:D 1.8k wc

Part two

(Warnings: animal deaths, blood, obsession, dark content, slight gun threat but not rlly, polyamory, gender ambigious!reader)

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Despite being here for nearly a week, you still don't think Satoru understood how delicate you are.

He's overbearing, in that sense. Constantly poking and prodding and squeezing until your lungs give and you're forced to squeak. You can't blame him for not understanding. He's an animal, after all. Inhuman. Despite his skin and hair, the scales coating his tail give away just how different he is. He was probably born fighting, kicking, and screeching his way through the foliage, hunting, chewing, and biting.

He's not like you when all you knew when you were younger was coddling and softness. You can see it in his scars, and bruises, and marks.

Luckily, for you, Suguru had an inkling that you weren't made for sharp claws.

It's not a fight, you can tell when they're fighting, it's more like a warning? A minor disagreement. Suguru hisses at the other naga, scrunching up his face, showing his teeth. Satoru is quick to respond, but a little more playful. Fortunately for you, the black-haired male seems to win the argument. Satoru's coils loosen around you. Air stops fighting its way to get into your lungs.

You finally go lax in his hold. Satoru seems to enjoy that, dipping his head to bury his face into the base of his neck. The first few times he did that, you were afraid he was trying to bite off your jugular. Now, you think it's just another way he can soak up your body heat.

Maybe you've been here for longer than a week. At this point, you couldn't really tell. Hope that you'd be found was starting to slowly fizzle away. The explosion had been massive. The ship had sunk in a matter of minutes. With a disaster that huge, you doubt anyone would still be looking for survivors. Especially on an uncharted island, where myth had turned into reality.

Satoru had been the one you'd woken up to. Washed ashore, barely conscious. You were half-certain he was planning on eating you with the way he held your leg, watching your muscles bend and turn. In his defense, he must have thought you were dead. Your shrill scream quickly convinced him otherwise.

It was barely a fight. More or less, a pathetic kidnapping as he grabbed your body, slinging it over his shoulder. You've never remembered screaming and crying so loudly before, convinced you were about to be eaten. Suguru probably heard you before he saw you.

Satoru's mate was a little less impressed with you. Back then, they didn't bother learning your tongue, speaking in hisses and snarls, unaware of your misery. Suguru's frown was glued on his face, but the naga never let you run away, always keeping a hand or a tail on you at all times. It was a rough first day; you didn't know they weren't interested in eating you until they tried to feed you.

Things were much different back then Nowadays, they are a lot more considerate of yourself and your soft body. You think you've come to an understanding with these strange creatures.

Suguru was the nicest out of the two. In that, you mean the least rough. Compared to his counterpart, he's a bit smaller, but that's not saying there's any real difference. If it comes down to it, you are more than certain he'd be able to kill you off as quickly as his mate. You thought he hated you, at first. Now, you think he has a hard time showing blatant affection. His touches typically come in the dead of night, when you're barely conscious. A clawed finger gently raking over your soft skin. Large hands sculpting your face.

Satoru's eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. Glittering like blue sapphires. You had a feeling they weren't just for show. Time and time again he's proven that he can see better than Suguru could. He smiles a lot more, but you're starting to wonder if that expression translates across species. He can speak your tongue slightly better than Suguru could. It most likely has to do with his insistence on staying with you. The more time you spend with him, the more you have to say 'No' 'Don't touch there' 'Stop'.

In the rare times you manage to escape their hold, you like watching them interact with each other. They often sunbathe for hours, lazing around hot rocks to soak in the heat. They like touching each other. Sometimes it's aggressive, like when Satoru chomps on Suguru's neck and you're suddenly much more aware of how careful he is with you. Other times it's: soft, unintentional, meaningless. Languid cuddling when you are finally able to braid Suguru's hair.

At this point, you've surmised they won't eat you. At least, not for the moment. You don't exactly know what they think of you. Do they have the concept of pets in their worldview? Maybe that's the closest thing you can place yourself as, at least in their eyes. They must think you're helpless. To them, you have no claws, no fangs, no venom. They probably don't know you come from a species that's hunted others to extinction and currently burning down the planet. You must be the first time they've ever seen your kind, stripped away from your weapons, when you're the least dangerous.

"You should be more scared of me, you know," you once whispered to Suguru in the dead of night.

He was dozing off, blearily keeping his eyes open to stare at your moving lips. There was a grunt behind you, and Satoru tightened his arms across your waist. Greedy for affection, even in his sleep.

"Humans are terrifying," you said, reaching out to touch, "top of the food chain."

Suguru had smiled at that. You found yourself smiling back.

"You're lucky I didn't have a gun on me. You probably don't even know what that is." It's dark humor to press two fingers into his forehead. Your way of coping maybe.

Or perhaps your actions prove that humans will always desire to be violent, no matter how perilous their fight may be.

"Bang." He leans into your touch, unafraid. Oblivious to the threat that you are.

You're guessing Satoru only let you go because of the food Suguru brought.

You're able to feel the ground again as he glides over to Suguru having just come back from a successful hunt. The carcass of the largest deer you've ever seen is slung across his back. The smell of blood already makes you nauseous.

You think Suguru had been the most panicked when you refused to eat, clicking and cooing while he tried to force-feed you the bloody leg of a bear. Back then, your communication was even worse than it was now. You were smeared in crimson by the time he relented. Practically dripping in it.

Now, Suguru knows you have different tastes than them. You're not a big fan of raw. The fish and the handful of berries are more than enough to sate you as you gather the items he's given in your hands.

"Thank you," you say. You reach out, touching his face with warm fingers. He purrs into your touch. You smile. It's the least gratitude you can give him. After all, he's not asking for much. If they hadn't found you, you would have been dead long ago, or at least, significantly less weaker. It's the least you can do.

For a moment, you delude yourself into thinking they were your pets. It'd certainly be easy too. They have little to no regard for personal boundaries, much like dogs. They're more animalistic than they are human.

It's funny to think of these monsters as lovable pets.

"Thank you," Suguru repeats. You giggle. It's not like they actually understand you. It's simple mimicry. Like talking to a parrot.

"Thank you!" Satoru chirps, never one to be left out. He pushes his mate out of the way, eager for your pets as well. Suguru hisses, but doesn't argue. You've learned they like to be scratched right there on the bottoms of their chins.

Suguru's less obvious, but Satoru has no desire to pretend. He melts into you, practically slumping his weight into your weak hold. It's a little adorable actually. You give a little laugh. He seems even more pleased at that.

They're fun to be around, but this can't last. You belong with other humans, far far away from this island. So far, you hadn't seen any boats in the horizon, but you hope one would come by soon. A plane would be even better. Close enough to give you hope. Maybe if you built a big enough fire, it'd reach someone eye.

Hopefully, in just a few weeks, these creatures will be a very cherished memory.

You frown when Satoru reaches over to grasp at your food, the meat specifically. You glare, moving away from his hold. He titters in clear disappointment. You hate seeing him sad but you already have so few food sources. It's best to conserve whatever you get.

"No," you pointedly tell him, "It's mine. Mine."

His frown deepens, and he opens his jaws to let his fangs pop out.

"Mine," you repeat.

He leans back, huffing. You laugh because you know his expression is more out of frustration than any actual anger. Again, animals. You pet his head in apology, before turning away. You'd have to start a tiny fire to start cooking. Raw fish is edible, but it's hardly desirable.

A hand grabs yours, clawed, the grip is tight around your frail skin. When you look back, Satoru is staring at you. Eyes wide. Eager.

"Mine," he says, but it's more like he's testing the word. Tasting it on his lips.

You scoff, unamused. "That's my arm. Not yours."

Satoru smiles. Sharp teeth. You suddenly remember he's a carnivore.

He's slow when he draws you in, practically dragging you into his arms. You're used to his spontaneous hugs, tight and suffocating. You can't fight him off, so you typically wait until Suguru has enough of his behavior and drags him off you.

"Mine," Satoru repeats. Alarm bells ring in your head but it's easy to brush them off. It's mimicry. They can't understand. It's like talking to a parrot.

You feel the weight of the other naga at your back. His arms wrap around your waist, pushing you against Satoru's chest. You stiffen when Suguru's fangs lightly graze up your neck. Never quite punctures, but is terrifyingly close.

"Mine," Suguru says into your skin.

You laugh again, but it comes out less hesitant. More airy. Amid their hold, a sudden thought comes to you.

If you weren't at the top of the food chain anymore, then who was?

#yandere #dark content #yandere jjk #non con touching #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto suguru #dark gojo satoru #dark geto suguru #naga au #naga gojo satoru #naga geto suguru #animal death #language barriers #polygamous relationship #Top of the Food Chain

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badgerbl00d · 1 year

Text

one piece boys rescuing you

☆ characters: trafalgar law, roronoa zoro

☆ up next: yes, your highness (knight!sanji x princess!reader)

☆ summary: you're put in a situation where your life is put in serious danger. will they be able to save you in time?

☆ a/n: new fic yay!! so i'm working my way through the ask box slowly but surely.. a lot of the requests are for pt. 2's, so im gonna try to publish new content before getting to those... as always, thanks for your patience!

3.0k words

law - fire

Trying to calm your breathing down you closed your eyes, doing your best to not panic.

“You ok in there?” Shachi called out.

“What’s the temperature reading?” That might’ve been Bepo. You couldn’t tell.

You’d gone into the boiler room of the submarine to try and fix an issue with the central temperature.

The submarine was supposed to be descending toward the abyssal zone, and with pressures as high as they were going to be there was no room for error with the temperature.

Before you could finish, something that was moving fast hit the side of the Polar Tang, resulting in the door locking you in.

Law had designed the functional rooms of the ship to be perfect.

The boiler room locked from the inside, so that if there were ever an issue with a pressure change, any explosion would be contained to the source of heat.

You heard some debris clatter on the outside, followed by what sounded like a loud, metal clang.

A high-pitched beeping noise started to sound through the small room.

80°

You pressed the down arrow five times. With the way it had been programmed, the boiler room shouldn’t be above seventy five degrees.

Your stomach started to twist, and nausea climbed up your throat when the number didn’t change, and after a few more second read

83°.

“Y/n! You okay?!” Bepo and Shachi had started to move some of the debris that was blocking the door, “Something hit us!”

“The temperature is going up in here, it’s at eighty-three and the buttons aren’t working!”

“Hold on,” Bepo called out, “We’re moving the stuff from in front of the door, we’ll pass you the key from under the door.”

You steadied your breathing and managed to settle your nerves the slightest bit.

A silver key slid under the door and you grabbed it.

“You should be good to open the door now.”

You placed the key in the lock, and started to turn it when the ship took another hit.

This one sent you flying into the wall.

You heard Shachi and Bepo’s impact.

Your head was pounding and you fumbled around looking for the key, unable to find it.

You could hear yelling coming from outside.

“Shit! Bepo- try and move that stuff!”

You assumed Shachi had left as you heard footsteps .

Slowly you got up, your head was starting to stop spinning.

You still couldn’t find the key and tried jiggling the handle

An unnatural rattling sound was coming from the handle.

Fuck.

The key had broken off inside it, and the jagged edge that you could just barely get a finger around was too sharp to try and turn.

The temperature in the room continued to rise.

Your palms had started to sweat and you felt your chest contracting more and more with each breath.

The heat was starting to fill you up from the inside out.

You ran to the thermostat, frantically pressing the cooling button.

94°

“Y/n?!” Bepo called, banging on the door, “I moved all the stuff! Try to open the door!”

“I can’t!” you yelled, your voice straining, someone was yelling- Law, maybe? What had happened? “The key broke in the door! Bepo- the temperature won’t stop rising!”

Bepo continued banging on the door- you knew that he was starting to panic.

98°

You sunk to the floor, looking for a way out- anything.

You twisted the door knob with so much force that you worried you might have broken it. Not that it made a difference.

106°

Bepo’s banging stopped and you started to panic again.

The yelling could still be heard in the background.

“Bepo?”

No answer.

Sweat was dripping down your back and your palms were sticky. Your hair clung to your forehead and it was getting harder and harder to breathe- whether that was because of your panic or the heat you could not tell.

You peeled off your boiler suit, which offered you some temporary relief.

Sitting in a pair of shorts and a tank top now, you simply sunk against the door- banging on it occasionally.

“Bepo!!” You yelled.

That damn bear.

Where was Law?

You perked up at the question.

Where the hell was your captain?

118°

You decided you’d try the key, taking a deep breath before grabbing onto the jagged metal edges with all the strength you could muster.

You felt the metal slip past your skin, digging into the flesh of your hand.

Blood dripped down your arm in a warm, steady stream and you strained to turn the key.

It wouldn’t move- too little of it was exposed.

Black dots started to dance in your field of vision, and you felt yourself slipping out of consciousness.

It was so impossibly hot, your mouth felt dry and tacky- like a thin layer of warm glue had been poured inside it.

Your head was pounding and your lungs felt like they were full of sand.

As you started to faint, you thought you saw a pale blue glow cover the room.

You smiled to yourself before you slipped out of consciousness.

Better late than never.

131°

“Room.”

“Lift her arms,” Law ordered.

The feeling of biting cold sent a spark running down your spine as two ice packs were placed under your arm.

You blinked your eyes open, a dull pain still drumming in the back of your head.

There was something sturdy behind your chest, and you felt a hand resting on your stomach.

You tried sitting up, but the hand on your stomach held you in place.

“Not yet, Y/n.”

“Law.”

“You have heat stroke- please don’t move. Stay right there, for me.”

You relaxed back against him.

“Bepo- hand me another ice pack. Is the bath ready?”

��Almost, Shachi’s getting more ice.”

You strained to sit up again, this time Law held you down with slightly more force.

“Y/n. I’m serious,” his tone froze you in place, “Do not move.”

“The boiler room-” you started, “‘s too… hot. Pressures- Gonna go up.”

Your speech was slurred and everything in your body felt so heavy.

You felt Law look back up at Bepo and nod.

“Ok, come on.”

He lifted you up, holding you bridal style to try to keep you as relaxed as possible.

“This isn’t gonna feel great,” he said, “But you need to stay in here for at least twenty minutes.”

“Law,” you mumbled, “ ‘s very nice of you.”

Slowly, he lowered you into the makeshift tub- a large plastic bin that was usually used for storage was filled with ice and water.

The cold was biting and an icy burning spread throughout your body- lighting up your nerves as you were completely submerged.

“Dunk your head in. Just once.”

You sleepily shook your head.

Law sighed, “Alright, I’m gonna help you do it, ok?”

Your hands gripped the side of the tub, and you relaxed slightly when he brought a hand to rest on your neck and gently lowered your head down.

He helped you back up, his steady grip taking the stress off of your body.

Bepo had been sent out of the room to help the others in fixing the rest of the ship.

You sat up and leaned back against Law’s chest, drenching him in ice cold water.

He winced.

“Not so great, hm?”

“No, not so great.”

You sat there, resting against him for a while. Slowly feeling yourself regaining strength.

You had acclimated to the temperature and the sensation that replaced the freezing cold was somewhat nice.

“What happened?”

“Underwater volcano, if you’d believe it.”

You laughed, still too tired to hold a full conversation.

“I’m sorry…” Law started, “I’m sorry I didn’t get you out of there sooner.”

He sounded so sad- you turned to look at him.

“Law, everybody did the best they could- Even me, look.”

You lifted up your hand to show him the injury to find it had already been bandaged.

He smiled at you.

“What kind of doctor would I be if I hadn’t noticed that, huh?”

You gave him a gentle smile.

You could tell that he wasn’t fully convinced, and still felt guilt at having taken too long to rescue you.

Before he could even react you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug that you shouldn’t have had the strength to give.

You could feel tension spark throughout his body, but after a few seconds his arms found their way around your waist and pulled you back in.

You let go first.

He followed, a few seconds after.

“If you really want to make it up to me,” you said.

“I do,” Law answered.

“Never give me boiler room duty again.”

zoro - earth

You had four hours to get to the Sunny.

By noon you and Zoro had to traverse through eight miles of thick, unwelcoming jungle.

It was humid and neither of you were looking forward to the journey but you had a mutual respect for the other, and though it was never said out loud, shared an enjoyment of each other’s company.

Zoro liked your good natured humor and admitted to himself that you were easy on the eyes.

You liked Zoro’s stoic nature and admired his relaxed composure.

Your fighting styles were perfectly complementary. Zoro attacked first and thought later. His cuts and slices were executed with a terrifying precision and he was able to readily turn on his animalistic attack mindset. You, on the other hand, were thoroughly analytical. Zoro possessed the skill to not have to worry too much about reading an opponent beforehand, but you were able to read them as fast as he could draw his swords. Able to pick apart formations and fighting styles before they could even get a hit in, you were able to direct Zoro and predict enemy attacks perfectly.

He’d never openly admit it but he liked taking directions from you. To him, independent and capable as he might have been on his own, it felt like he was a sword and you were the hand that guided it.

He made the final cut, but it was you who had swung in the right direction.

Needless to say, you had both set off on your journey toward the Sunny with very few complaints.

The humidity increased, the further you got into the thick green that covered the island.

You pushed through miles and miles of green leaves and branches.

It was lively, the sounds of bugs scuttling across the floor, birds crying from the canopy above, and frogs chirping and yelping filled the scenery with the noise of life and energy.

You were humming to yourself, enjoying the warm weather and snacking on the chips Sanji had packed for you, handing the bag over to Zoro when he reached his hand toward you.

You’d made good progress in the two hours you’d been walking and agreed you could afford to sit down to eat lunch.

“Haha! I do remember that!”

“Or what about when that moron of a cook though he and Nami had us beat in trivia night-”

“And they lost to us in the category of cooking!”

You and Zoro were both laughing. Not such a rare occurrence when the two of you were together.

Zoro’s head suddenly snapped around.

You felt it too, the hairs on your neck rising.

A chill ran through your body and you turned to press your back against his.

“I can’t tell where they’re coming from.”

“Neither can I.”

Your breathing was in sync and you both waited, weapons at the ready.

In a split second the tension broke and your attackers revealed their position by shooting an arrow.

“On your left!”

You jumped to the side as a flurry of arrows flew past your head and heard the sound of blows being dealt by Zoro as he handled his side.

You pulled your throwing knives from your bag where they rested and aimed at the enemy.

Flashes of shiny steel flew through the colorful greens and teals of the forest, the sound of metal against metal echoing in the open space.

You and Zoro fighting together was truly a sight to behold.

You set up every hit he got, and the hits you got were courtesy of Zoro.

It was like a sport for the two of you, a team working perfectly in sync.

Skill aside, your ability to guess his next move paired with his ability to accommodate his hits to the blows you landed, made the two of you nearly impossible to beat.

After only ten minutes of fighting, you’d taken out more than half of the group ambushing you.

Your blades were dripping matching shades of red, and it wasn’t long until the remaining attackers ran.

A stray arrow was stuck in a tree and you pulled it out to inspect it.

Thick, green liquid dripped off the end of it.

Poison.

“Y/n!” Zoro called.

You dropped the arrow and ran to his side.

“Who was that? I didn’t recognize anything about those attackers?” you asked.

“Same here, but it doesn’t matter. Could’ve just been bounty hunters.”

“Working as a team? Unlikely.”

He shrugged.

“Either way, they’re gone.”

You nodded and followed behind him as you continued your walk toward your crew.

A dull throbbing had started to spread throughout your body. You had a headache, too, but shrugged it off.

You walked for another few minutes before you felt liquid trickle down your throat.

You pressed your hand to your neck, pulling away when you felt a warm film cover your fingers.

There was a small gash on the right side of your neck- you’d been hit.

“Fuck!”

Zoro turned around, eyes widening when he saw the wound.

He ran toward you and pressed a hand against your neck to stop the bleeding.

“Shit, shit, shit! Ok- Ok, um, just stay calm,” he was panicking, sweat was lining his brow.

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a napkin that was meant for your lunch.

He held it against your neck and you started to feel faint.

You felt your right foot lock. You tried to move it but it felt like trying to move a steel ball with only your pinky finger.

“Zoro…” the fear in your voice was evident.

The swordsman sat you down against the trunk of a tree and held your hair up with one hand as he held the cloth to your neck.

You started feeling faint, and a slowly increasing feeling of nausea was spreading throughout your body.

“We need to get the poison out.”

You nodded, the strength slowly leaving your body, like water flowed from a leak.

He rummaged through his backpack which contained only the lunch Sanji had packed you, a standard first aid kit that Chopper had insisted you take with you, and a broken compass he had forgotten to throw away.

He grabbed the first aid kit and frantically dumped it out.

You pointed at the gauze and Zoro grabbed it.

“Okay… I’ll, um, wrap this around… your neck?”

You nodded, “But we still need to get the poison out.”

You winced in pain, doubling forward.

You grabbed a few pills Chopper had thrown in and swallowed them as Zoro continued to try and calm himself down.

“It’s spreading.”

Zoro’s head was pounding- this was definitely not his area of expertise and there was nothing in the kit that said ‘Poison Remover’.

“H-how do I,” he asked, overwhelmed, “Just tell me what to do.”

He might not have any medical knowledge but he’d be damned if he let a crew mate die on his watch.

Especially you.

Your eyes had started to close and he was set in his resolve to save you.

Get the poison out, he thought.

As he felt your grip on his arm loosening something in his brain clicked.

He brought his arm around your neck, letting your head rest against his bicep.

His lips wrapped around your neck, and you felt his warm tongue swipe over the shallow wound.

You hissed as he traced his tongue back over it, his saliva coating your soft neck in a thin glaze.

A slight pressure built up as he started to suck the poison out, occasionally spitting it out on the ground next to you.

You made it with a half hour to spare.

The rest of your crew warmly greeted you, happy to see you having made it safely.

You walked onto the ship, Zoro staying by your side, like a knight does with a princess.

Sanji was the first to notice the bandage wrapped around your neck.

“Y/n-chwan!! Are you hurt? What happened?”

You shook your head, “I got hit with a poisonous dart. But I’m okay.”

You gave Zoro a thankful look.

Sanji further inspected the wound, noticing the deep purple and red hickey that sat right on top of the gash.

“What… exactly happened?” he asked, shooting a glare in the swordsman’s direction.

“The poison had started to spread and, uh…” your voice trailed off.

You weren’t sure if Zoro wanted to announce his heroics to the crew.

He stood taller and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“And I sucked it out,” he announced.

He sounded proud enough, but his increasingly red cheeks implied otherwise.

There were mixed reactions..

Sanji was furious and started to bicker with him, Luffy and the boys were laughing, but Nami, Robin, and Chopper all seemed confused.

“But,” Nami had started, “I thought that that doesn’t work-”

You cut her off and shot her a look, that said Don’t say anything.

“I would’ve died if it weren’t for him.”

Robin giggled and ushered them all back inside to finish lunch, explaining to a very confused Chopper what was going on.

You and Zoro were left alone on the deck.

“Thank you,” you whispered, bringing a hand to rest on his shoulder, “You saved me.”

He looked away from you, rubbing the back of his neck and nodded.

“Anytime.”

Of course, you knew that sucking the poison out of a wound was an outdated myth.

It was the pills that had saved you.

But Zoro had been hellbent on saving you and did everything in his power to keep you alive.

He believed he had saved you.

And you’d be damned if someone told him otherwise.

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filthybeforesunset · 11 days

Note

STOP FEEDING MY GROWING CRUSH ON LUFFY! I'M TRYNNA GET OVER HIM CUZ I CAN'T KEEP UP W THE SERIES😭😭😭

here, lemme help

Luffy x Reader

where do you think you're going

Content Warning: afab!reader, smut, dubious consent, restraints, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, Gear 5th, no escape

“Hmmm? What’d’ya mean?” He pouted. That damned pout that made you turn to goo. Or to at least squish his face.

Luffy wasn’t supposed to look so good. Shirt open for that scar to tease you. The starlight making black eyes glitter on the upper deck where the helm sat quiet. You never thought you’d fall for the sweet smile type — the laugh until it infected you type. You had always looked at tall, stoic men. They would whisk you away with kisses and sweet words.

Instead, this rough and tumble pirate captain had dragged you into one adventure after another, seducing you with strong hands and wandering teeth tugging for your cries when the mood struck.

That wasn’t a problem in and of itself, of course, but the adventures …

“I can’t keep up,” you whispered. Your head dropped now, flush with embarrassment as his stance shifted into a droop. “I’m not as powerful as you.”

Not even as strong as any of his weakest crewmates.

Hopping along, you had hoped to find your place on his ship, and while you were at home there in his arms and in the other’s friendship, you were no powerhouse, and the adventures were getting so very dangerous. This last time, Luffy had almost died. Though to hear him tell it, you thought he actually had.

And it sent your gut and heart lurching. Had you lost him? Even for a brief moment?

What could you have even done to help him?

He had beaten Kaido, but you had been hiding during the raid. The others could praise you for helping the geisha escape all they liked, but you know you had been saving yourself too.

Luffy’s pout hardened though, his brow creasing. “You don’t gotta be strong.”

“I won’t ever be! I’m just — me.”

“And I like you.”

You blushed.

Of course, you knew that. Hip breaking time alone had told you that much.

“Stay.”

A shock went through your frame. You wanted to, of course, but he wasn’t listening. As usual.

“I … can’t.”

When he frowned, eyes going deep and still, you had to look away. You think it was that intensity that had first caught you, after all. It was just a trap at this point.

“I have to say goodbye.”

Luffy snorted. “I don’t say goodbye.”

Your eyes widened as he grasped your shoulders. For an instant, you flushed with heat, but when Luffy dragged you against him, an inferno scorched you. Luffy pressed you onto the bench, and instinct had you open your legs so he could press between.

Oh, no—

Tongue to tongue, Luffy sucked hard before releasing with a gasp.

“I won’t ever say it.”

Your jaw dropped only for him to pinch your bottom lip, his hand over your wrist to press over your head.His black eyes pulled you back in.

“I won’t let you go.”

You had died. Somehow, somewhere in the recesses of your mind, you went still in shock as he grinned.

That damned grin that had you wet with want.

Luffy pulled up your shirt, ducking under to latch onto your breast through your bra. You let out a shocked cry before he pressed his hand over your mouth.

“You can’t say it either.”

Heat pulsed and pooled in your belly. When you tried to close your thighs, he pressed against you instead, his bulge grinding for your core under your skirt. With a whine, you wiggled on his cock, squirming as he yanked your shirt off. He ground harder while he worked at your bra, tossing it over his shoulder. Laying you bare when your panties and skirt joined the rest.

You panted on the bench, naked and sweating when he gathered both wrists in that huge hand.

His tongue laved across your breast, slurping and running lewd circles on every curve.

Yet at your nipple, he bit with a groan that had your hips jolt. You moaned through his hand, melting with wide eyes as Luffy loomed over you.

“Aaah, you’re so cute,” he said. “I don’t wanna let you go. I’ll …”

His eyes lit up, and you shrank back with a hot flush as he whisked off his yellow sash.

Hot with shame as he tied you to the bench, draping you across the cushion, you struggled with his strength — didn’t he see this was why!? — yet the light in his eyes only glowed brighter still.

You squealed when his now free hands twisted your teats. Bucking, you flushed to find your pussy leaving a smear on his jeans where his bulge pressed for you.

“Luffy, please …” You teared up, moaning while he chuckled. As your clit rubbed on denim, your face flared.

He leaned over you, thrusting against your ache as he squeezed your breasts with a groan. “Much better.”

“Luffy, you can’t just—”

“I’m gonna fuck you raw tonight.”

You went still, gaping as he ground harder.

He began a vicious flicking of your nipples, and your squeal had him licking your parted lips. You pressed harder against the promise between your thighs.

Was this his actual goodbye? But he had said he never said that …

You steamed in the heat of him.

Would Luffy really just keep you here with him? You moaned, panting when you heard the zipper.

Hot flesh slapped your pussy.

“Or maybe you’ll fuck me?” He smiled when you shook. His cock slipped to your entrance, and it betrayed you, parting with hot juices for his tip.

Burning in your mortification, you thrust onto his cockhead as he grunted.

“Good girl.” You preened, panting as you stuffed yourself onto his thickness. Your pussy lips spread wide as his cock bulged and pulsed inside. “That’s so cute. You keep trying to shove it all in … I love that.”

His eyes danced as he pulled back, just far enough that you whimpered. In a few little inches, you could — you could get that whole huge thing inside! Just … one more …!

You writhed and arched, straining while he stroked your breasts. Luffy strummed over your teats and licked drooling lips as you sweat to spear more. If this was the last time, you wanted it. Every last bit. His cock and his tongue, that touch of his fingers while he scratched down your curves.

“Luffy,” you whispered, squealing when he pulled back a bit. “Don’t — don’t …! I need it. I wanna cum on your fat cock!”

“Then come and take it,” he murmured, grinning through a sheen of sweat.

As he pinched your clit, your mind cracked in two, split on his cock like your throbbing pussy. You slammed down, gasping when he growled and jerked forward to meet you.

“I love watching you stuff yourself! Too weak? Can’t keep up!?” You gaped at the froth as he pummeled you into the bench. While he bled into white, and dark eyes glowed red. “I don’t care! I want you on me every day! What’s the rest of that matter when I just need you to cum on my cock?”

With a squeal, you tugged on your restraints and arched to his pounding hips when white curls pressed to yours. Your eyes widened as his cock bulged inside. Not like when he came. Not a quick pulse and then he slacked.

No, he grew.

Your jaw unhinged, and Luffy pressed your knees up to your ears with a wide grin and eyes. Trapping you under him.

“Shishishishi! Look at that pussy full of cock. That’s a pretty sight. You cumming yet?” He leaned in, laving his tongue across your shocked, parted lips. “Who cares if you can’t catch up … when you love my cock this much?”

Tears in your eyes, you moaned with his tongue thrusting for the back of your throat, gagging as an outpouring of seed filled you, and your pussy sang in surrender.

When his cock popped out, you sagged onto the bench. He chuckled as he turned you over, your arms crossing in the restraint of his sash.

“So where do you think you’re going?”

You melted when he thrust back in from behind.

“Nowhere … nowhere!” With a moan, you slapped your hips back. You speared yourself onto him and choked on a moan from the girth.

“That’s right. You’ll be limping. I’ll have Chopper put you on bed rest.”

You nodded hard, shaking as his cock bulged again.

Except, he only grew, and you bucked with renewed purpose, sweating for the wet kiss of his cockhead against your womb. Your skin flared. Your pussy ached, swallowing him whole as he grabbed your hips and dragged you back.

“Good girl,” he purred, and you whimpered into the cushion of the bench while you could do naught else but twitch to the rush of his seed invading once again.

A steady drip of cum plopped onto the deck.

#afab!reader #afab reader #luffy smut #luffysmut #luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #one piece smut #op smut #ask #gear 5th smut

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sleep-0-deprived · 2 months

Note

Bartender AMAB reader stumbles upon Luffys crew and has a threesome with Sanji & Zoro?

Two is better that one [UNFINISHED]

I’m sorry it took me so long I’ve been having a few things going on so this is unfinished, if something changes or my writers block goes away I will come back too it and Finnish the rest :/

Female aligned dni 18+ only blog NSFW content below

My life was boring vague even I was just a simple guy on a small island who bartends for extra cash and today was like all the others or so I thought.

My regular customers stumble in and place the same orders as all way leaving me with a taste of Deja vu in my mouth as I fix their drinks this was set in my brain like coding on a computer but what I didn’t expect was a crew of pirates to stumble into town today much less two pirates taking interest in me.

“What can I get you to drink?” I ask the green haired man as he bickers back and forth with a blonde “whiskey” the green haired man grumbles as I turn to the blond “and you?” I ask him “well what might your name be beautiful?” the man says with heart eyes as he flirts shamelessly with me making the green haired man angry and starts shouting “oh for fucks sake do you have to flirt with everyone?! It’s bad enough you flirt with every woman now him?” The green haired male says angrily then the blonde chimes in shouting too “please stop bickering you two” I say with a sigh as I stare at the men “sorry about him the names Zoro, and you?” He asks me in a deep voice “oh uh it’s y/n” I respond then turn back to the blonde “now you what do you want to drink?” I ask him unimpressed by his previous flirting “how about yourself and the name is Sanji” he smirks “I’m not on the menu tonight” I say calmly trying to hide any flush that keeps to my face “well I bet you could be, I mean after all you do look delicious doesn’t he?” Zoro asks Sanji the two of them staring at you like you were there next meal and oblivious you were there next meal.

Hah~ “you moan out as you get pushed onto a bed oh how did you get here a few drinks and shitty pickup lines and the next thing you knew you were sitting on a creaky ship bed as Zoro roughly kisses you and Sanji get on his knees between your legs and starts palming you making you groan into Zoro’s rough kiss as he slips his hand under your shirt pulling it off leaving your s/c chest bare and naked as the both look you up and down “I bet you taste delicious huh?” Zoro whispers in your ear and before you could respond his mouth makes it’s way to your hard nipple and his hand to the other as Sanji unzips your slack leaving you in your boxers hard “looks like somebodies excited huh~” Sanji teases as he holds your thighs apart with his hands from between your legs “mh please~ “ you whimper out as you throw your head back slightly as Zoro suddenly stops teasing your sensitive nipples and Stands up, “take your boxers off and get in the bed” Zoro demands in a husky voice as Sanji stands from between your legs and the slowly get undressed as you watched staring and getting hard at the veiw of their muscular bodies as you quickly go on the bed and threw your discarded boxers in the floor while you feel flushed under their eyes as they lustfully stare at you “better” Zoro grunts as he crawls between your legs and Sanji crawls behind your head “on all fours now”Zoro said sternly.

“Such a good boy for us isn’t he zoro~” Sanji says with a grin as you eagerly get on all fours with Sanji dick in your face “yes he is, now suck baby” zoro says as he places his fingers in my mouth making me suck “good” he grunts as he pulls his fingers out and spreads your ass cheeks before prodding one finger in the tight ring of muscle as you clench around it “fuck~” you groan at the new sensation “such filthy words maybe you need someone to keep you quiet hm doesn’t that sound nice sweet boy?” Sanji says in a sweet voice as he raises your chin with his hand and puts his dick on your lips as you start to hazily suck while zoro adds another finger prepping you making you groan around his cock “I think your ready enough for me boy” Zoro says as he aligned the tip of his cock with your hole and slowly pushed in making tears build in your eye from the pain, you felt like you were being split open “your doing so good for us” Sanji say with a smilie as he lifts your chin, your mouth still stuffed with his dick but not having much time to think as Zoro starts moving inside you making you feel him graze your prostate “hmm~” you moan out muffled around sanji’s cock as Zoro grips your hips and starts to slowly move leaving you weak “fuck your tight” Zoro hisses as he pulls out his hips soon slapping against your ass as he fucks you”

#x male reader #sub male reader #x male reader smut #bottom male reader #one piece x male reader #one piece #sanji x male reader #zoro x male reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader

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secretwritingspot · 5 months

Text

Sleepless Nights- Soft Ending

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Rating/Content Warnings: E/18+ yeah I know I know, FINALLY SOME ACTUAL PORN from the smut writer. But yeah there's...not really fully sex because this is the softer ending but there is something. You'll see.

Summary: The soft ending of Sleepless Nights, Sanji *ahem* helps out Reader with getting to sleep.

Disclaimer(s): Like said above, this definitely isn't full smut like you might be expecting (don't worry, the rough ending gets a LOT more explicit but shh don't tell anyone I told you that). But that said, I'm still quite fond of it and hope y'all will be too!

"...come here."

His words are barely a whisper when he speaks, keeping his voice as soft and comforting as he can for the time being. He's in motion before you can process it, moving to sit down on one of the galley's more comfortable couches and patting the seat next to him.

Distantly, you feel yourself nod wordlessly and when you swallow, your throat feels tight and your head slightly fuzzy. You can feel your cheeks heating up but everything feels far away and blurry as you sit next to him and stare down, fidgeting with your sleeves.

You don't know how to make the first move or what to expect, if anything, and pray he's better at clearing the awkward tension than you are.

"Can I touch you?"

Though the look in his eyes is almost pleading, his voice stays gentle. He needs you to be certain about this. Needs to know he can have this and wake up able to look at himself in a mirror the morning after.

You nod and hope it's answer enough, your words failing you for the second time that night.

Thankfully it is, and he smiles gently at you like you're a work of art, the most perfect thing he's ever seen. He pulls you into his lap and wraps his free arm around you so that your back is cuddled into his chest as he keeps his voice close, low and comforting.

"Relax, sweetheart. Just relax."

He moves his other hand to your chin and turns your face upwards towards him, and when you finally meet his eyes his breath hitches in his throat.

Breathless. Somehow, you always render him breathless.

Before he can think any better of it he leans down and kisses your jaw, continuing to reassure you along the way as he peppers kisses across your skin. "Take a breath," he instructs gently, pausing for a few seconds before pulling you closer again, his kisses slowly moving down your throat.

Whether it's his words or the affectionate way he touches you, it works- you sigh shakily and relax into his arms, taking a deep breath as you close your eyes and melt into the gentle attention.

You...haven't gotten attention like this in a long, long time.

It makes sense, none of you have. After all, you've been on a ship for months, none of you with a partner on board. It could get...lonely, missing that kind of affection for so long. Even among friends.

Sanji himself was no exception.

His soft hands move up your arms, then across your collarbone. Sanji had an inkling that you had been feeling lonely, and you may not have mentioned it, but it was something he'd always known about you. It made his heart hurt thinking about it- you seemed like the type that could be a bit...needy.

"Shh, that's right darling, just like that. Relax for me, pretty girl."

Still, Sanji knew that those types - people who were needy, who craved affection and love - they don't do so well on pirate ships, even with a crew as lovely as theirs. And it's no shock, really. The sea could get lonely, especially with no one to hold you. But he does his best to make up for that now, all soft touches and softer words. It's hard for him to stop some of his deeper feelings for you from slipping their way into his strings of praise, but he tries.

One of his hands toys with the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath, placing a hand lightly on the bare skin of your waist. You can't help but gasp quietly at the initial, almost overwhelming warmth of his hand on the bare skin of your waist and Sanji coos softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Shhh, that's it, love. Let yourself feel it," he whispers with a small, fond smile as his fingers trail higher up your body, one arm wrapped comfortingly around your waist while the other starts to feel along the bottom edge of your bra. His hands move slowly, taking his time to get a feel for the fabric and all it's details.

To his joy, you do- letting your head fall back to lean against his shoulder with a sigh. He moves his other hand under your shirt with equal caution, not moving other than to get the thin fabric out of the way. The warm hand pressed flat to your stomach caresses reassuringly as the other seems adamant on memorizing every inch of the fabric under your shirt.

You try not to think about how right this all feels.

"I'm going to take good care of you, honey. I'll make sure you get your rest."

His voice is still quiet when he speaks, but now his words carry an undertone of something more raw as he whispers in your ear. His heart aches pleasantly at the way you relax into him, his hands tracing lazy, absent-minded shapes on your skin.

"...a pretty girl like you deserves more than a ship like this, you know."

He hides the emotional admission under an advancement of his touch, sliding a hand into the cup of your bra.

You dissolve into a soft, pretty sigh and arch slightly into his touch. His warm, soft words make you shiver- the idea that you deserve better, that somehow even this, the most wonderful you've felt in months, isn't good enough.

"This ship and I may never be worthy of your perfection, love. But if you need sleep, then you'll get it," he assures as his hand keeps working your chest as he whispers to you, thumbing gently at a nipple as he leans in to press his lips to your throat.

His affection surrounds you in an intoxicating way and you keen softly, melting into him. It feels like Sanji is everywhere- his lips on your neck, leaving affection in the form of peppered kisses as he lavishes you in praise and reassurance. His arms wrapped around you securely, his chest a safe haven to lean into. One of his hands caressing your chest as the other teases his fingers across the skin of your lower tummy, slowly working his way down. You feel completely enveloped in him, absorbed and protected and warm.

Your reaction only encourages Sanji, his words growing husky as things slowly become more intimate, more desperate.

"God, sweetheart. How long has it been since you've felt this way? Since you've had someone take care of you properly?"

"Don't know-"

You admit in a breathless whisper, gasping softly as his hand skates closer and closer to your panties.

His touch makes it hard for you to think, let alone speak. You feel floaty- hazy and fuzzy around the edges and tired, yes, but mostly just warm. He'll take care of you. He'll put you to sleep.

"A while."

"Too long," He whispers back almost immediately, the soft brush of his fingers now just on the edge of your panties. Sanji lets out a low groan at the thought of you being without someone for so long. Sanji was going to fix that.

"You going without this for any amount of time is too long. Let me make up for it, love. You deserve that much, at least."

You can't help but mewl in response to his words, especially now that his fingers are brushing over your panties. Finally, relievingly, he presses the heel of his palm down over your core, applying soft pressure in a way that makes you see stars. The breath leaves your lungs for a moment and you whimper breathlessly, melting.

His hand holds in place for a moment, making you squirm as he teasingly grinds his palm down on your clit. Sanji moves slowly but surely, making sure not to rush too quick. You had been waiting far too long, after all, so a nice slow burn before anything else was probably ideal.

"That feel good, sweetheart?"

You nod hastily, trying to construe just how good it feels before your voice finally comes back to you.

"Perfect," you answer in a breathless whisper, nuzzling into the space beneath his jaw. It really is, it's everything - the gentle pressure of his palm where you need him the most, rubbing in slow, steady circles that make you keen. His other hand massaging your chest, lips and teeth at your neck, nipping softly and whispering in your ear. " 's perfect, Sanji, please."

He hums happily in response, breath catching in his throat at the sight of you. You melt so easily at his touch, like butter in a pan. He thinks if he doesn't get you off right now so you can sleep peacefully he might die of regret, especially since you asked so nicely. He moves his palm in slow circles against your sweet spot in a way that makes you gasp, tracing his nose lightly along the cut of your jaw with a comforting whisper, voice raspy with desire.

"Shh, sweetheart, I've got you. I'll make it all better."

You can already feel yourself working your way up to something as your hips rock back against his hand instinctively and your thighs twitch.

It's so good, it's barely anything at all and yet it's so good, like sugary coffee late in the morning or the warmth of sunlight through windows or a million other things your mind is too tired to conjure right now. It feels like salvation, like a promise of well-earned rest.

Your breaths stutter and catch on the way out and soon each one is a needy whimper, thankful you're too exhausted to be loud as your voice reaches an embarrassingly desperate pitch.

"Shh, sweetheart, let it out," he soothes, tone encouraging and soft and entirely too much. "Come for me."

And you do, the request punctuated by Sanji starting to slowly speed up the circles that his palm grinds into your sex, other hand switching from caressing your curves and simply holding you to thumbing at your nipple at the same time.

The combination of the two feelings is all it takes to push you over the edge, breath catching in your throat with a desperate sort of relief as you finally come undone. It isn't anything intense, but it isn't meant to be- it washes over you in gentle waves, your exhaustion finally starting to sink in as you shiver, riding out the final ebbs and flows of the feeling.

Something about the subtlety of it make it the most beautiful thing Sanji's ever seen.

The way your voice cracks slightly on that final whimper, the way your hips continue to twitch into his palm as you ride it out, the way your thighs tremble and the rest of you just melts, going limp in his arms.

"Atta girl, sweetheart," he whispers, awe-struck.

He keeps moving his hand for a few more moments until your movements finally taper out and you start to relax more deeply against him. He can feel your heart beating, every soft breath, the exhaustion that now hangs in the air, thick and palpable.

In the soft, dark atmosphere of the galley, Sanji moves his hand back up to your waist and simply holds you, the other coming up to comb through your hair as he presses a kiss to your temple.

"You did so wonderfully."

Your only real response to the whispered praise is to hum in satisfaction and mumble something you think was supposed to be words, but you really aren't sure, your sleeplessness finally starting to catch up with you as you're slipping quite quickly.

You're clingy when you come down, he notices, and tucks that fact away in his mind for later when he's feeling romantic. You nuzzle your head into his chest and stay curled up, eyes still closed like you have every intention of falling asleep right then and there.

He would let you, he realizes, looking down at you with a near painful warmth in his chest. Happily.

"...sweet dreams, my love."

He whispers, keeping his voice as quiet as possible to avoid rousing you from the nap you've slipped into and pulling you even closer against him. Though he knows you're already asleep, he can't help but run his fingers through your hair and press tender kisses against your forehead. It's only a few moments later, once his focus is no longer entirely on taking care of you, that his nose twitches.

An odd, acrid smell fills his lungs and permeates the room. Smoke. Something that should be comfortingly familiar twists with the undercurrent of something gone wrong and he cocks his head in an attempt to identify the possible threat before his eyes go wide with an entirely different kind of panic.

Ah, fuck. The rest of the pastries.

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla #opla x reader #sanji x you #opla Sanji x you #opla x you #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #opla x y/n #opla sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n

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writingficsanddaydreams · 7 months

Text

Worried Thoughts

Mihawk x gn!reader

Summary: he thinks you’re afraid of him, but really you feel more comfortable here than anywhere else. If only you could figure out how to explain that.

Content: fluffy cozy piece. Just a hint of romance. Reader is autistic.

Warnings: reader is somewhat insecure about their autistic traits.

A/N: Couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so I’m sharing with all of you. It’s been a long time since I wrote any fanfic so I might do more, I might not, we’ll see. Story is based on live action Mihawk with some inspiration from the little bit I know about the anime. Enjoy!

—————

He’s frustrated with you.

He doesn’t let it show. Mihawk is too controlled for that, too stoic. Besides, you’ve come to learn the look of casual disdain he wears is for everyone, not just you.

But he’s still frustrated with you.

You can see it in the little things. The slight furrow of his brow. The way he watches you over his book. The long, drawn out sips of wine.

It’s the things you’ve learned to look for after a lifetime of having to watch and analyze and try so hard to fit in. A lifetime of trying to be normal.

Around Mihawk though? You don’t feel that need so much.

It’s why you let your eyes drift away from his intense, piercing gaze. It’s why, though you’re still afraid to let yourself stim too much or let too much excitement shine through when a special interest topic comes up, you do let yourself chew on your lip. And sometimes, when you catch yourself rocking because the silence is just a little too much, you don’t make yourself stop.

But still, he doesn’t quite understand it. He thinks you’re afraid of him.

You should be. Honestly you’re not sure why you aren’t. He’s the worlds greatest swordsman. He’s probably the most powerful person in all the seas. He wears that power like a cloak, holds himself in a way that warns people to step away. Step back.

You saw it in the village last week, when he had you sail with him to a nearby island so you could help pick up supplies. Folk recognized him and feared him.

To be honest, you thought he would leave you behind there. After all, he has no reason to keep sheltering you. It’s been a month since you washed up on the beach of his own gloomy island, a month since you barely evaded the monsters that live there and found your way to his door.

He let you stay, and you figured it was because of how pathetic you looked at the moment. A shipwrecked survivor on the brink of death, looking more like a drowned rat than a human.

It’s not that you’re actually pathetic. You’re not weak. Or at least not too much so. Honestly, you can hold your own against most folk back home, and you know how to sail a small ship just fine. Or at least, you thought you did.

That storm wounded your pride and has you questioning your seafaring skills.

The point is, you can take care of yourself overall. Though, you quickly learned after you first set sail a few years back that being the best in your village means nothing when so many folk out there are as powerful as gods. Competent or not, you’re nothing compared to the great warlord.

So why did he let you stay? Why was it, when you were getting ready to turn and walk away after setting foot on the village island, he handed you a small crate of supplies and said to not fall behind? Why was it he let you get back on his ship and sail all the way back here with him?

You haven’t asked him yet, because you’re a little afraid that maybe he’ll change his mind. You’ve come to like your life on this isolated island.

But you’re getting away from yourself again. Letting your thoughts drift. It’s been a week since that village visit and now you still sit within Mihawk’s vast and rather chilly castle, hyperaware of his piercing gaze digging into your head.

“You don’t need to be so afraid of me.”

His voice makes you jump, and you realize that you’ve been rocking where you sit as you stare at the book in your lap.

“I’m not,” you manage. “I…”

Your eyes latch onto the book. You’ve been reading it for a couple of days, but you’re having trouble focusing today. Whenever you look at the words, it makes you think about how yesterday you launched into a long analysis of the adventure genre and how it really is such a shame that people don’t appreciate this book as much, since even though it was one of the first of its type there’s been so many books that have built on it since that now it seems almost predictable.

Mihawk didn’t seem bothered at the time, but now you look back at it and you’re sure he must’ve been annoyed, or at the very least bored. You’re still kicking yourself for not taking the time to check his expression when you went on that endless monologue.

“You act afraid.”

You take a quick peek out the corner of your eye, watching as he casually sips from his wine glass. Firelight flickers across his face, lighting up those vivid eyes and casting a golden hue across his dark hair. He’s not looking at you anymore, but you know that he’s still aware of everything you do.

When you find your attention catching on his chiseled chest, you quickly force your gaze away.

“You are a warlord,” you say, trying to be teasing.

“An astute observation.”

“I’m not afraid of you though.” You close your book and with it close your eyes, trying to find the right words. Trying to get them all untangled. “I… I just don’t like eye contact. With anyone.”

“I see. That is reasonable.”

It’s not the response you expected. You’re used to people judging you when they learn how are you are. You’re used to people underestimating you and assuming the worst.

You glance back up at Mihawk, then quickly away to the fireplace instead. “I’m not very good with people,” you continue, “It’s not that I don’t like them, but I don’t always understand the rules of society and stuff. And I don’t always do things the way other folk do.”

When you peek back, he’s lifted a single eyebrow. You blush. Surely he’s already noticed that. Surely you’re being silly as you explain the obvious.

“The rules of society do tend to be rather boring.”

The way he says it, so straightforward as if it makes all the sense in the world… you feel relieved giggle bubble out of you.

“I suppose you really aren’t afraid of me then,” he says, just the slightest twitch forming a smile at the corners of his lips. He tilts his head slightly, then adds. “I was thinking about your theory yesterday. It was… Intriguing.”

Something flutters in your chest. A feeling that you never really thought you’d have for somebody so dangerous. Joy. Excitement. Perhaps even some infatuation, if you’re being honest with yourself.

His castle might be vast and chilly, but it’s also comfortable. And you’ve come to truly enjoy these times where you sit together in front of the fireplace, simply existing near each other. You’ve come to enjoy just being around him.

“Would… would you like to talk about it more?” You can’t help the hope that creeps into your tone.

“That would be pleasant.”

And so, you finally let that wall down just a little further. You let yourself start talking without holding back, let yourself feel comfortable.

When he rises from his chair and walks to stand closer to your own, his hand just barely brushing your shoulder, you let yourself feel a little bit at home.

#Mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #one piece mihawk #Help im so in love with this character #autistic!reader #proofreading I don’t know you

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grcnseer · 2 years

Text

Surfeit of Thorns ➢ Aegon II Targaryen

synopsis :: As his twin you’d always had strong bond with your older brother Aegon, understanding one another in a way many could not comprehend. However, when the king passes and others push for his right to the iron throne, you’re left wondering if anything was truly as you believed it to be.

pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen x twin!Reader

warning(s): targcest, angsty, fem!reader, aegon gets horny when sad, switches galore, SMUT, no beta we die like stannis

note: Here’s my first piece of work for hotd, I truly hope you all enjoy it! I’m still fleshing out the characters so go easy on me. Of course likes, reblogs & comments are always welcome. Requests are currently open so feel free to send a raven!

The chamber door rattled, wood splintering to the point you were worried it would give before it ceased completely. You held your breath and didn’t dare chance moving. Surely he hadn’t given up? It wasn’t in his nature to not get his way. Risking a few steps closer to the door, your ears were ringing as you waited with bated breath.

“Please, sweet sister.” A low whine pierced the silence. “You’re being cruel.”

Heat licked up your spine, urging you forward as you landed a fist against the frame. “I’m being cruel? You left me! After all I’ve done for you— all I’ve given for you, you’re a coward!”

“Unbar the door!” He snapped, tone dropping as he allowed his anger to seep through. “I am king now. I will have it broken down if need be.”

Of course he would.

Aegon had never shown respect for anything. It was foolish to believe yourself any different. You took a deep breath, trying your best to steady your hand as you lifted the lock. There was barely a chance to step away before it shoved open and Aegon rounded on you.

His hands grasped at your waist, fingertips biting so sharp you were sure there would be bruises come morrow. You shoved against his chest despite the urge to succumb to the warmth seeping from him. “You’re drunk.”

“You abandoned me.” He countered, shoving a finger in your face before ripping himself away from you. “And now you’re angry with me? When I’ve done what you’ve wanted all along?"

You were utterly baffled by his statement, shock evedant on your face as you held his gaze. “Pray tell when I have ever abandoned you? This is not what I wanted!”

In all your years you had stood beside your brother. From birth you had been his shadow. He was older by a few moments, but you had been there all the same. You defended him, took blame for him— you would never abandon him. But he had abandoned you.

“You told me to make a decision because you were tired of waiting!” He seethed, arm lashing out and knocking the contents of your vanity to the ground. Jewelry scattered across the stone floor. “Now that I’ve done what you asked you’ve avoided me! You’ve asked mother to consider a betrothal!”

“Aemond told me!” You closed the distance between you, fists clenching at your side, “he told me that he found you hiding, waiting for the chance to slip aboard a ship! That you offered him the iron throne should he let you leave?”

His features twisted with annoyance, whether it was toward Aemond or yourself you couldn’t be sure. “That’s why you’re so angry? I would have come back for you!”

“Stop it.” You scoffed, not bothering to suppress the roll of your eyes. “I know you too well, brother. Or have you forgotten?”

His hands grasped at your face, cupping it between his palms. “Do you truly believe I could leave you behind? That I could leave Sunfyre behind? I would have returned after Aemond was crowned.”

You fought his hold, shaking your head and refusing to meet his gaze as he cooed over you. His grip did not let go. He had always been able to sway your thoughts with sweet words, playing on your hopes and the love you bore him. Aegon was selfish and would always put himself before all else, despite the way he was gently cradling your face.

“Yes, I would have.” He forced you to meet his gaze, “I would have returned for you both and taken you away.”

“It does not matter. You are king now.”

“It does matter!” Aegon pushed forward then, tangling his hand in the hair at the back of your head as he shoved you against the wall. You arched away from the cold stone, hips knocking against his and spurring a deep groan from him. His head dropped to the curve of your neck and lips brushed the sensitive skin as he spoke. “You will recant the betrothal and you will stay here, with me, where you belong.”

“And I will be stuck just as I was before, watching as you get your fill of whores and wine. Listening as mother urges you against them and into bed with your wife.”

“I begged her for you.” He whispered between hot kisses to your jaw. “Told her you were mine to wed, mine to take— mine to fuck.”

“And yet you haven’t.” You hissed, reaching up to wrap a hand around his throat. “Because I refuse to be your whore.”

A smile played at his lips, amusement and arousal dancing in his gaze as he pushed into the contact. You didn’t want him to enjoy it. You wanted him to ache the way you had while watching him take the crown. As any hope of happiness slipped through your fingers.

You shoved him away and crossed the room, grasping the edge of your vanity with your back to him. From the corner of your eye, you watched as he filled the goblet on your bedside table and you cursed yourself for requesting a jug of sweet wine. He slumped in the nearest chair, drinking deeply from his cup.

“You will not leave me.” He mumbled and for a moment you weren’t sure if he was speaking to you or himself. You twisted to face him, exhaustion washing over you in waves at the thought of continuing the argument, only to halt at the gleam in his eyes. “I will not allow it.”

You couldn’t be sure how long you stared at each other. An unspoken debate being held before you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You crossed the space between you, plucking the cup from his grasp and downing the remaining liquid. “I’ve sacrificed every chance I could have had at happiness in hopes that something would change. Waiting for you to whisk me away and when the time came you ran.”

“I will annul my marriage.” It was so sudden, so baffling that you couldn’t help but laugh. A childish pout formed on his lips at the sound.

He lurched forward to snake his arms around your waist and pull you to straddle his lap; albeit clumsily as the chair nearly tipped when you fumbled on top of him. “If I am to say I wish to cast aside my wife and take you, who is to stop me?”

“Our mother and grandfather,” you countered, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. The week that had passed since his coronation gave you the time to accept the harsh reality of what would follow. All dreams of escape were ripped away as the threat of war lurked just outside the keep. “They wish to offer my hand to secure an alliance for the war they started.”

“There would be no war if not for me.” He sneered, pushing up until his chest was pressed to yours. “They will allow us to wed or I will give my crown to Rhaenyra.”

“It is not that simple—”

Any further attempt to dispute his claim was swallowed by his lips. His tongue forced into your mouth as his arms tightened around you, hands fisting your dress as if you would slip away the moment he let go. He held you impossibly and he rolled beneath you so you could feel his hot arousal pressing to your core.

“Aegon—” You spoke against his lips, only to be caught off by a rough jolt of his hips.

“Tell me what to do.” He begged, voice raising in pitch as he clung to you. “Please, don’t leave me— I’ll do anything you ask, just don’t go.”

Tears welled in your eyes as he dipped to bury his head in your chest, hopelessness returning with a vengeance as you laced your arms around his neck. For years you had danced around your feelings for Aegon, despite his never-ending attempts to claim you as his.

You couldn’t get past the guilt of allowing him in while your sister sat just as miserable in their marriage. It wouldn’t be fair and in your eyes, she deserved the world, let alone that sacrifice on your behalf.

“I know no other way. You must believe that I have searched.” You couldn’t hold the bitter laugh that broke through your words. “We should have left after that damned dinner.”

A hush fell over the room and the finality of your tone sank into his bones. A tremble rolled along his spine, hips rocking up to grind his hardening length against you and he let out a guttural moan. You gasped at the friction, arousal wracking your frame and you gripped the nape of his neck. “Aegon, we can’t.”

You resented the whine that lingered in your tone.

“We can.” He insisted, craning back to catch your mouth with his own. “If you are requesting leave then this,” he slotted himself fully against your wet heat, “will be your price. You’re going to come on my cock and when your husband takes that sweet cunt of yours it will be all you think of.”

You didn’t miss the way his lips curled at the mention of your undecided husband and the slick between your thighs increased at the possessive glint in his eyes. It would be easier to push away from him at that moment. To spare yourself the future torment of longing for a man that would never be within reach. Yet your mouth crashed against his in a heavy kiss, licking at the seam of his lips to request entrance that he eagerly allowed.

Aegon’s hands pawed at you desperately, letting you explore his mouth. His tongue slid along yours, using his grasp on your hips to urge you into rhythm. “Fuck, I want those lips wrapped around my cock.”

The thought sends a flush of excitement through you, hands finding their way around his neck as you angled him to meet your gaze. “You don’t deserve my mouth on your cock.” His pupils were blown wide as you tightened your grip, only stopping when he let out a soft moan. “You’ll finish like this or you leave the way you are.”

You didn’t give him much time to think about it, increasing the pressure of your hips until his name slid past your lips. He let out a soft whimper, head dropping back against the chair. Tension hung heavy in the air as a line that had been drawn so long ago was crossed.

Aegon had first kissed you after the celebration of your sixteenth name day. He had gotten last in his cups and caused a scene. Your mother had found you in the corridor, attempting to smuggle him away from her wrath with linked fingers and a harsh tug. His lip was bloodied by the time you arrived at his chambers and after you dabbed it away he asked if you loved him.

You had been shocked by the question, of course you loved him, why else would you bother with his antics? Then he closed the space between, hissing at the sting of his lip but not breaking away.

His betrothal to Helaena was announced soon after.

“Lift your skirts at least,” he begged, palming at your thighs in an attempt to move the heavy fabric. “Please, I need to touch you.”

If you weren’t just as desperate to feel him you would have said no. Instead you pulled until the material was hitched and fell behind the dip of your thighs, exposing them to his hungry gaze. He wasted little time gripping your flesh and arched up to catch you in a sloppy kiss. His hip bucked, spurring a moan from you both.

“Fuck— ‘s not enough, I need more,” Aegon lurched forward, knees hitting the ground as he sunk his teeth into the flesh of your breast. Your back was barely cushioned by the rug beneath you and the air was knocked from your lungs. His speed increased, rubbing your clit with deep and desperate thrusts.

“My cock aches for you.” You were both panting, heat filling the room as you flattened your feet and lifted to meet him. A broken moan ripped from his throat and he smack a palm against your bare thigh, “take it— it’s always been yours.”

You took a sharp breath, brow furrowing at his words. Take it. You knocked the arm that was holding him up, using the bow of his elbow as you pushed forward.

He fell to his back, eyes snapping open in surprise as you straddled his lap. The words playing at his lips vanished as you grasped his throat and bent to meet him with a glare. “Don’t lie, it’s unbecoming of a king.”

Aegon laughed and you were quick to cut it off with a squeeze of your fist. He let out a choked moan, hips lifting desperately for relief, but you held steady against him. His hands grasped your hips and before he could take control you fumbled for his wrists.

You never thought there would be a time you were thankful for your twin's weakness. A simple roll of your hips was enough to gain the upper hand and you pinned his arms beside his head. Before he could whine in protest you covered his mouth with your own, teeth knocking as you grinded against him. His tongue pushed past your lips, luring you closer and sucking at your bottom lip until it was red and swollen.

A particularly harsh thrust sent you spiraling, heat filling your chest as you broke away to release a pitched moan. His head dipped between your breast, licking at the skin before biting until he was positive you would be marked by him.

“I love you,” Aegon mumbled between kisses, followed by a whisper of your name as his cock twitched against your cunt. You tangled your hands in his matted silver curls and leaned back until you could see his face. His eyes were glazed, a sheen of tears glistening in the candlelight, and the pure need creasing his features sent a spark of pleasure straight to your core.

The only sounds were shallow breaths and frantic open-mouthed kisses as you chased your highs. You were soaking through his breeches, the material sticking to you both as his length settled between your folds. Synchronized moans bounced off the walls.

“Love me,” he begged breathlessly.

“I do!” You hissed, tugging at his locks while your peak washed over you in waves. White flashed behind your lids, a far-off cry of his name ringing in your ears as you pulse against him.

Aegon’s thrusts were wild, nearly lifting you from the ground until he lost rhythm completely. He growled as he spilled, chest heaving while his cock twitched and jumped between your thighs.

Your head dropped against his shoulder, ghosting kisses against his collarbone until he slumped beneath you. He collapsed to the ground with a laugh, arms snaking around your frame to keep you tucked against him.

“How do you expect me to let you go now, sweet sister?”

#aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #hotd smut #aegon targaryen smut #hotd.works🕯#oneshots♟#help what is this #shame shame shame #surfeit of thorns verse #sot verse #works

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rggie · 2 years

Text

things they do during the ‘honeymoon phase’

characters: idia shroud, malleus draconia, vil schoenheit

summary: little things they start to do in the early stages of your relationship.

cw: gn!reader, fluff, sfw, vil does your makeup

idia gets into your interests

“you know that game you like? it’s actually… alright.” idia says out of the blue, last word enunciated slowly as though he had been mulling over his word choice. he actually enjoyed the game very much, but he wasn’t going to tell you that—choosing to feign nonchalance, doing finger pushups against his desk in an attempt to look somewhat occupied.

you can’t help but beam. “you actually played it?!” you’re leaning in so, so close to him, the apples of his cheeks instantly grow rosy and he finds himself looking anywhere but your bright, hopeful eyes. he was the making you this happy? just by playing a game? (he decides this expression was one he wanted to see more often—if he could bring himself to look your way, that is.)

“w-well i didn’t get too far but from where i was, the lore seems interesting and the characters are cute, and…” he pauses, sneaking a glance at you. you’re hanging onto his every word, urging him to keep rambling on. “the graphics are cool too. i guess.” he internally facepalms. he should shut up. why did you care so much about his opinion, anyway?

“just give me your game id so i can add you–” idia’s mid-sentence when his words are cut off by a whisper of thanks and an odd, feverish sensation on his right cheek that ends faster than he can process. he short-circuits.

if his face had been flushed before, he’s certain his hair is now a similar shade, blue ends blossoming into dahlia pink as his breath hitches, heart thrumming against his chest rather suddenly.

“hh… it was nothing really. i mean, i guess it was pretty easy for a pro like me.” you were doing wonders for his ego. he’s baring his teeth, flashing his wide signature smile before his lips ghost over yours apprehensively.

“i-if i played more, would you kiss me again?”

malleus ensures your safety

“you really don’t have to walk me home!” you’re flailing your arms about a little helplessly as he meets your stride with a chuckle.

“but i want to. it’s also night-time.” he reminds you, ignoring the fact that you’re in a boarding school with sufficient security, and also had his retainers trailing after you, currently hiding in the bushes in an attempt to be somewhat inconspicuous. “making sure that you get home safe eases my worries considerably.”

well, when he puts it like that… you don’t have the heart to deny him.

as your shoulders bump, malleus wonders how your hands would feel in his. were you the type to intertwine fingers when holding hands, or did simply having one hand rest on top of another suffice? were your hands smaller, or bigger? his digits brush against your own, but retract themselves just as fast.

the action doesn’t go unnoticed. even after putting a label on your relationship, he’d still be hesitant initiating any sort of skin-ship. it’s as though he expects you to cower and shy away, when all you want to do is revel in his affection. so you stop walking.

malleus, lost in his own thoughts, continues on ahead, and you bite your tongue trying not to snicker when he finally breaks out of his reverie to see you’re no longer by his side. he beckons you over, forehead wrinkling slightly as he huffs and juts his lips out into a pout. cute. “what are you doing?”

“mal, we’re dating. you can hold my hand, you know.” surveying his tentative demeanour, you add: “it’d make me feel more secure if you did.”

“oh.” his pout is replaced by a coy smile as you meet his side once again.

“if that’s how you feel,” he squeezes your hand, swinging it back and forth before raising it with childlike awe. he’s brimming with unfathomable tenderness as you lock eyes; you match his expression, teetering between bashfulness and contentment. “then we should’ve done this sooner.”

vil listens your criticisms

“–and so i just told him straight: if that’s the role i’m going to be offered, then i’ll take my leave.” vil finishes his rant as you hum in acknowledgment, eyes closed as you try your best to stay still. he’s putting some sort of powder all over your face, and you resist the urge to scrunch your nose at the ticklish sensation of brush hairs flicking across your profile. “i can imagine how you strutted out.” you giggle.

though your eyes are closed, you know he’s rolling his eyes at your remark as he holds your shoulder firmly to stop it from moving with the tremors of your laugh. “well? what would you have done?”

you’re silent for a couple beats, pursing your lips in contemplation. “i suppose i would’ve tried to compromise. i think you should’ve asked about other roles instead of leaving right away when you didn’t get what you wanted.” the room seems to still, and you feel like retracting your words when he doesn’t reply immediately. “vil?”

“you’re right.” other than rook, you were the only one brave enough to talk to him straightforwardly, lacking any semblance of falsity. “i think i needed to hear that.” vil carries on working away, spraying you with something you only recently learned (courtesy of him, of course) was ‘setting spray’. an odd, guttural noise comes from your boyfriend’s throat—you’re not sure if that’s a particularly positive or negative sign. “you can open your eyes.”

adjusting to the sudden brightness, you blink thrice before peering at yourself in the vanity mirror. “so? am i beautiful now?” you tease light-heartedly, posing as he pulls you into taking a quick selfie before pocketing his phone again.

he admires your sanguine features and his hard work, feeling a smile tug against the corners of his lips; he lets it grow wide, because he supposes there’s no need to play pretend. you always see right through him anyway. he presses a kiss to your nose, careful not to smudge the silvery highlight on it’s tip. “you’re already beautiful.”

he likes you so much it’s detestable.

#idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst fic #twst hcs #twst drabble #twst fluff #🐾・/ rggie twst

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tipsyleaf · 2 months

Text

Life | '24 Alphabet Challenge

Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Summary: The morning before Leon gets shipped off to Spain.

Words: 1.6k

Content Warning: 18+ content, dry humping, pet name (sweetheart), language

Authors Note: Hi folks, if anyone recognizes this from somewhere, I'm the original creator of this bot of SpicyChat and I thought (since y'all liked my last thirist post) you'd appreciate this oldie sitting in a folder on my phone.

He shifts to get comfortable again, lying on his side. He doesn't dare to take his eyes off the sleeping angel next to him. You curl into him so perfectly at any angle, it amazes him every time.

Reaching over, Leon strokes your cheek with his calloused hand, cradling your jaw. Careful not to wake you up at such an ungodly hour as it's almost 5am. Even though he knew he'd need to be up soon to start his normal morning routine. And to start prepping for his flight at 11am.

Glancing around the bedroom you two shared, he yawns softly, admiring your features in the soft glow of the soon-to-be morning sun. Moving in closer, he gives you a loving kiss on the forehead.

Just like everytime he woke up before you.

Looking down, he smiles, seeing you're still out like a light, completely unbothered by his touch in the slightest.

Leon chuckles, kissing your face a few times, admiring how beautiful you look, even when you're drooling on his trapped arm under you.

He was going to miss the hell out of you while he was gone, finding the President's daughter in Spain. Knowing full well, he wasn't allowed to come back until he found her, regardless of how long it took.

The loud buzzing of the alarm clock behind him breaks the silence of the room.

Shit, shit! Don't wake up!

He whips around, scrambling to reach behind him, his fingertips just missing the button. Tugging slightly on his arm under you, he hits the button. He felt a shifting on his arm as he lay on his back with a sigh.

You're awake.

Looking at your sleepy face, he sees you rubbing your eyes, yawning softly.

"What... Time is it?" You stammer out, wiping sleep from your eyes. He chuckles, always loving how sweet you looked when first waking up.

"It's 5am, sweetheart. Just go back to sleep." He leans over, kissing your forehead again. Groaning in response, you feel him move to get out of bed.

"Noooo..." Whining you cling to his arm, he freezes in his moving. "Stay, just a little bit more? I don't have you for much longer..."

He looks down, opening his mouth to try to protest about his routine. Then he sees the sleepy puppy eyes you're giving him and his heart melts. Getting back into his original position in bed, you giggle at your victory as you climb over, straddling him and pressing your bodies together.

"Happy now?" He grumbles in fake annoyance, wrapping his arms around your waist loosely as you get comfortable.

"I'm always happy in your arms." You smile, kissing the beauty mark under his left eye.

You always did love Leon's adorable marks. Leon's a beautiful man all together, but it's the little details about him you adore so much. The marks on his face, his jaw, neck...

You kiss along his left jawline, stopping a second to admire every part of his beautiful profile.

"What're you doing?" He questions with a quirked brow. Turning his head to look at you, you grab his chin, making him keep his head forward.

"I can't admire my beautiful boyfriend?" Squeezing slightly on his chin, he huffs, faking irritation as if he isn't used to your romantic doting by now.

"You love torturing me, don't you?" He asks, jokingly, as his grip gets tighter on you. Kissing along the lighter moles under his barely grown stubble, you make sure to ghost your lips a bit longer than necessary on each one. He feels your lips creeping along his jaw, letting out a soft moan, tightening his grip around your waist.

"I've always admired your beauty marks. Just as cute as the day we met. All your cute little features just drive me wild, y'know?"

"At this rate, I'm not gonna be able to get out of bed." You chuckle, kissing along his neck. He bites his lip, tilting his head and exposing his skin to you.

Kissing that one particular spot on his pulse that makes his toes curl, his eyes shut tight, and his knuckles turn white, you feel the slightest bit of a twitch under you.

"Fuck." Leon cursed under his breath.

"You like that?" You ask, teasing him as if you don't know exactly what you can do to this man. "It's always so sexy how responsive you are to me. Even the slightest touch can get you all riled up. It's adorable."

"You're such a little shit." He grumbles, making you smile and pull back to peck him on the lips. Moving your lips over to kiss the mark on the right side of his lip. Taking a few quick pecks, his eyes cracked back open, a smirk on his lips.

"You like that spot, huh?" His hand glides up your body, moving to the back of your neck. Gathering your hair in his hand, he pulls it out of the way, sitting up and pressing soft open mouth kisses along your neck.

He pulls your hips taut against his lap, starting to suck a hickey into your warm skin.

Eyes rolling back in your head, you feel him under you. Hard and in need of attention. Only his cotton boxers and your panties keep you from feeling that fullness you love so much.

Until it dawns on you, you were supposed to be appreciating him before he leaves you for God only knows how long. Your hand meets the middle of his bare chest, pressing him back into the pillows of your bed.

His eyes go wide, almost grinning at your reaction to his affection.

"I'm supposed to be appreciating my boyfriend, not the other way around."

"I can't kiss my girl now?" You leaned back, giving him a look. That looks that he immediately knows he'll be in trouble if he isn't careful with what he says.

"I'll shut up. Please continue, sweetheart." With a smug smirk, you lean back and kiss the mark above his lip one last time.

"That one's one of my favorites, but not my absolute favorite." His eyebrows raised. Lips parting with a soft smack of his lips.

"Oh? Well, now I need to know what your favorite one is. You can't make such a... Bold claim and then not share with me." His voice is playful, now barely above a whisper after kissing you lightly on the lips. "Enlighten me."

"Well, this little one right here." Leaning in, you kiss the mark in the middle of the right side of his jawline, nibbling gently for a second.

"This one used to be my favorite, because I noticed it the day we met. You looked so stressed, your jaw all clenched up and annoyed when you were in that stairwell at our old apartment building."

You move down from his jaw, kissing his neck, sucking another light red mark on his pale skin. He shivered slightly, eyes flickering closed. His hands wander at the bottom of his shirt that you're wearing, pulling it up past your hips, he rubs at your ass just poking out from the bottom of your panties.

"I thought you were so sexy even when you looked like you wanted to kill someone. Do you remember that day baby?" Letting out a shaky sigh, he nods in response, feeling you start to rock your clothed cunt against his hard on.

"You just looked so scared to talk to me, but you were the sweetest thing. Introducing yourself, all shy and so fucking pretty. You only got more and more irresistible whenever you get so much as smile at me." A slow roll of your hips on his cock made his voice break, a whiney moan slipping out of him.

"I remember you not being able to keep your eyes off me. Caught you staring at me more times than I could count before you finally just sucked it up and asked me out." You slowed your pace even further, grinding into Leon. His nails grabbing into the meat of your ass.

"Baby, it's getting really hard for me to not just... Throw you across the bed... You're gonna break me if you keep this up."

"Maybe that's the point. Make you nice and broken, so obsessed you can't stop thinking about me the entire time you're gone." Moving over you kiss him, rougher then any other kiss you've shared with him that morning. Pulling back, he follows your lips with a frustrated groan, opening his eyes to glare at you.

"Please baby, you're killing me. I need you." He damn near begs. You look down at him, grinning. Knowing you have most control over the situation.

"I never told you my favorite mark." You tease, running your nails lightly across his collar bone and up his neck to his jaw, making him shiver again.

"Do you want to know?"

"I'm sure... I know where it is."

"Oh, I'm positive you know." You move your nails along his jugular to his wind pipe. Caressing the mark just slightly to the right of his Adams apple. Licking your lips, you lean in kissing it, delicately, with a dreamy sigh.

"Oh fuck..." Leon melts under your lips, hands moving down to the crisp sheets, fisting them between his fingers. Trying his hardest to restrain himself as his face turned red. Biting his lip he lets out a shaky breath.

"So sensitive right here, I do love the sounds this one gets out of you. Always such a rough and tough big man until I so much as give you a little lick..."

Leaning in further, you give a kitten a lick, seeing his fingers tighten in the sheets out of the corner of your eye. You're honestly surprised he hasn't rip a hole in them yet.

"You're like putty in my hands."

In one swift movement, you were on your back. Breath jagged and rough as it blows over your face, Leon above you, his full weight pinning you to the bed.

"That's enough of your teasing, you fucking brat."

#🌿 ivy writes #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #x reader

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random-thot-generator · 11 months

Text

Don’t Leave Me Hangin’

MANDO x FEM READER

Summary: Reader gets stuck aloft in one of the Kom’rik’s cargo nets and has to call out to Mando for help. Filthy Mando smut ensues.

Warnings: explicit language, swearing, explicit sexual content, porn without plot, well, maybe a tiny little hint of plot, oral- f receiving, PiV, squirting, cum play(?), it’s messy- nuff said, Kom’rik sex, improper use of a cargo net, reader is an idiot who should think things through, Mando is an opportunist, no use of Y/N, maybe? bondage - Mando doesn’t help her out of the net like- immediately, but reader ain’t complainin’

(N/A: The brain fog has FINALLY lifted, and I wanted to write about my most recent random filthy thot. This is the result. It’s a long-ish, smutty one shot. Reader & Mando are in a situationship - friends-with-benefits type deal. I’m picturing like a live-in nanny/housekeeper kind of thing, but I don’t think I ever specified. This is post-season 3, and Mando’s living his best life on Nevarro. He and reader are in a Kom’rik, because I need room for my smut to flourish, and I didn’t want to resurrect the poor old Razor Crest from the ashes. If I missed any tags, let me know. And I hope you enjoy.)

Word Count: 4280

You really should have thought this through better.

That was your first thought after the cargo net stopped swinging, and you regained a modicum of composure. You winced at the sound of the net’s straps creaking under the strain as you tried to shift your weight and then froze. You remained completely motionless, afraid to even breathe, for several more moments.

“Shit...” you whispered in a quaking voice, peering down at the floor of the cargo hold several meters below you. You then glanced up at the winch mechanism above your head, praying it held. How in the hell were you going to get yourself out of this?

It had seemed like such a good plan at the time. You had just stepped out of the Kom’rik’s small ‘fresher, having showered and changed into your sleep shirt before bed, when you’d felt the ship drop out of hyperspace with a small lurch. You heard something clatter in the cargo hold below and blew out a tired sigh, knowing it was probably nothing but also knowing you wouldn’t be able to rest until you checked it out.

Grumbling under your breath, you had climbed down into the hold. Only the emergency lights were on, the ceiling and corners hidden in shadow, but you spotted something lying near a tier of shelves attached to the hull’s interior wall. It was one of the kid’s favorite cookies, the teal ones with the creme filling. Peering up into the gloom, you spied an opened foil sleeve of cookies perched on the edge of the highest shelf.

“How the hell did he even get up there?” you said aloud, shaking your head. Jedi training aside, the kid was far too much like his dad, a little risk-taker. You heaved a sigh, with no small amount of exasperation.

Stars only knew what else he had left up there. Come to think of it, you had given him your datapad earlier to watch cartoons and hadn’t seen it since. Sighing in frustration, you began looking for a way to reach the top shelf. The propulsor lift was still charging, so that was a no-go, and you didn’t see a ladder of any sort that wasn’t attached to the ship already.

And then you had spied the cargo net.

It was dangling by its hooks from a mechanized winch and pulley system attached to the ceiling. It was used to keep extra containers suspended above the floor to free up space, its track running the entire circuit of the area for maneuverability and convenience. Designed to hold several hundred kilograms, you were certain it could support your own weight. You could use it to lift yourself up to the shelf, retrieve whatever was up there and then lower yourself back to the ground. Easy peasy, jogan squeezy.

Detaching the control pad for the winch from the wall, you climbed inside the net, lacing an arm through the holes for a better grip, and then planted your bare feet on the cross sections of the heavy straps. It was a bit shaky at first, but once you gained your balance, you quickly ascended until you were at eye level with the top shelf. Tucking the control pad under your chin, you reached up to feel your datapad under your fingertips and sniffed in amusement. You’d have to give Grogu a good talking-to in the morning, but for now you at least had your datapad back. Slipping it and the sleeve of cookies off the shelf, you shuffled the objects around, your grip on the net slackening.

It was then that the Kom’rik made another jump into hyperspace, making the ship jolt with the transition. You shrieked when the net began to swing wildly, feet slipping out from under you as you let go of everything in your hands to hang on for dear life. Panting for breath, heart thundering in your chest, you clung like a monkey-lizard to the straps and prayed the net didn’t break.

So, there you were, hanging above the hold like a piece over-ripe fruit, arms and legs entangled in the net with no way down, because, of course, you had dropped the winch’s control pad when you dropped everything else. You could see it lying on the floor below you, right next to the broken casing of your datapad.

“Shit!” you repeated, leaning your forehead against the straps and huffing out an angry breath. Could this situation get any worse, you wondered. You’d have to yell for Mando to come get you down, which you weren’t looking forward to, but who knew how long it would take before he even came back this way? What if decided to just sleep in the cockpit? Would you end up hanging there all night?

The thought made your awkward position in the net feel even more uncomfortable. Your feet had slipped through the holes, so your legs were now dangling under you, the straps cutting into the tender meat of your thighs. One of your arms was still threaded through the net while the other one was pinned close to your side. You could feel the cold air of the hold settling into your bones and making you shiver, the thin material of the tunic doing little to stave off the chill.

You knew that the longer you hung there, the colder you were going to get, the number your limbs were going to grow. Your feet were already stinging and your teeth chattering. There was no help for it. You had to call for Mando.

“MANDO!!!”

Your voice bounced back at you, making your flinch. Holding your breath, you waited to hear his boots thudding against the metal floor overhead, but nothing. He hadn’t heard you.

“MAANN-DDOO! HEEELP!”

You waited. Still nothing.

Oh, stars, maybe he had fallen asleep in the cockpit. after all. With the door sealed, he would never hear you. Panic began to creep in, shortening your breath as it constricted your lungs.

“MANDO! PLEASE! I’M STUCK IN THE HOLD! MAN-DOO!!!”

“What the hell are you doing?”

You heard his voice coming through the ship’s comm system and could have cried in relief. You’d forgotten the cams located throughout the ship. Stars, he’d probably been watching you this whole time. You were never in danger.

“I... I’m stuck, Mando.”

A gravelly bark echoed in the hold before turning to static. Great. He was laughing at you. “Obviously. Listen, I need to recheck the coordinates in navi and set the autopilot, then I’ll come get you down. Just, uh, hang tight,” he drawled, another garbled sound slipping out of his vocoder.

You bit your tongue to keep from saying something you might regret. You were in no position to taunt or snark back at him right now. “Fine,” you mumbled, and slumped into the net.

It was only a few minutes before the sound of his heavy boots were thudding across the metal floor above you, his footsteps music to your ears. You heard the clang of his armor hitting against the ladder before he slid down into view, feet landing with a solid thump in the hold. He approached at a leisurely pace, seemingly in no hurry, then stopped to stare up at you. His helmet tilted back, black visor glinting in the low light. Planting his hands on his hips, he tipped his head, first to one side and then to the other.

“M-Mando? What’re you doing? Can you get me down now, please?”

Mando hummed, his stance shifting. His arms dropped down to his sides, hands curling into fists. “You must be getting pretty cold, huh?”

You bunched your brows up in consternation. “Um... yeah? It’s fr-freezing down here.”

He nodded slowly, keeping his visor trained on you. “Hmm. Thought so. You’re not wearing anything but my old tunic. It’s not covering much. Is it?”

You quirked a brow at the change in his voice. His smooth baritone had dropped an octave or three, and it had a distinctive husk to it now. His tone was the one he used when the two of you were alone with the lights off and he was taking you apart, dark and sinfully seductive. It made you squirm despite your precarious position, and the net began to slowly sway back and forth. The edge of a strap slid into the crease where your thigh met your hip, and you felt your lower lips part. A low groan issued from his vocoder. Your mouth fell open.

Sweet Maker, your pussy was on full display for him. You hadn’t bothered with underwear after your shower, planning on putting on a clean pair once you got back to your sleeping quarters. Heat surged through your body, both from embarrassment and unexpected arousal.

“Mando...” Your voice sounded so small and breathy in the cavernous space.

“I can see everything, pretty girl,” he told you, taking an unconscious step closer. He was almost directly under you now, peering straight up at your exposed sex. Mortified, you felt the slow trickle of your arousal easing out of your channel. You weren’t dripping, not yet, but the thought of him standing beneath you, staring at your most vulnerable parts had your breath panting out in little puffs. “You... Are you going to... get me down, now?”

You heard the back of his gauntlet scrape the metal floor as he picked up the control pad for the winch. His breath was rasping through his vocoder, the sound of leather creaking as he moved underneath you. You felt the winch catch and then begin to whir as the net began to lower back to the floor.

“Thank the stars,” you whispered, anxious to be back on solid ground again.

You didn’t quite make it, though. You were still a few meters above the floor when the winch came to a sudden stop, leaving you to sway like the pendulum of a run-down clock. “M-Mando?”

“Look so pretty like this, sweet girl,” he murmured below you, and you felt his gloved fingers trail across the back of your thigh. You gasped at the contact. “Close your eyes,” he husked out, voice gone to gravel.

You didn’t even bother to ask why, just snapped your eyes shut and held your breath, waiting. You heard the slap of leather on the floor, guessing it must be his gloves he’d just taken off, and then you felt his bare fingers tracing the straps that dug into your thighs. His fingertips grazed along the edge where the strap met the skin, the sensation making you tense as heat spiraled in your belly, diffusing through your pelvis to spread in a hot rush of slick that trickled out to cool along the petals of your open folds.

“Oh, mesh’la,” Mando cooed, dark and low. “You’re dripping for me, pretty girl.”

A whine escaped your lips, breath catching in your throat as you felt his fingers slide through your arousal, gathering your essence on his fingertips. There was the pneumatic hiss of air as his helmet disengaged and then the ring of beskar ricocheted around the hold as he dropped it to the floor. You could hear the lewd, wet noises he made as he suckled his own fingers, moaning at the taste of you.

“Don’t move, baby girl.”

“Oh, Maker...” you whimpered in a quaking whisper.

You could feel your walls clenching in anticipation. Mando had never used his mouth on you before, said he’d never gone down on anyone before, but as the winch whirred back into motion only to grind to a stop again a moment later, you guessed you were about to find out if this would be his first time.

When you felt his hair tickle the backs of your thighs, an eruptive shudder passed through your entire body. When his nose grazed over your clit, you jolted in the confines of the straps hard enough to send the net swaying, but he caught you and brought you back to center.

“Sh-shh... Easy, baby girl. I got you...” He paused, sniffed. “Fuck, you smell so good,” he hissed out in a rush, and you heard him inhale, could feel his nose right at your parted lips. It was so filthy, so obscene, what he was doing, but it made you quiver with lust, just the same.

His hands came up to grip your ankles, holding you in place. “That’s better,” he murmured, hot breath gusting over your damp folds, eliciting another shiver from you. “Let me hear you, pretty girl. Want to know how good I’m making you feel. Okay?”

You nodded your head furiously, swallowing in an attempt to bring a bit of moisture back into your parched mouth. “Y-Yeah. Okay, Mando.” You didn’t even care that it came out as a whine.

The first touch of his tongue had you choking on air, hips stuttering, not sure whether to rock forward or away from the lapping muscle, but his strong hands held you fast, not letting your squirm away. He dragged his tongue in a slow, hot line from your entrance to your clit, and you moaned like a porn star. You could feel his cheeks bunch up as he grinned at your reaction, and then he flicked his tongue over your pulsing clit again, pulling a sputtering,” Ha-aaa-aaah!” from your gaping mouth.

“You like it when I do that?” he purred lowly into your folds. “What about when I do this?” He enveloped the sensitive bud with his lips, tongue flickering over it with feather-light touches, making you writhe and grind against his mouth. He groaned, then suctioned his lips around it and sucked, pressing his tongue firmly against it. Your plaintive wail echoed throughout the ship.

“Fuck me...” he moaned, panting for breath, his voice shaking. He was completely wrecked. With a desperate snarl, he dove back in with a vengeance, tongue laving your inner folds, twirling around your entrance, lapping at your juices before kissing and sucking at your puffy, parted lips. He was devouring you whole, winding the coil in your core into a taut vibrating spring of tension. Your thighs were shaking uncontrollably, your breaths wheezing out of your lungs in desperate pants.

“Mando! Mando, I...”

You couldn’t even voice a coherent thought, couldn’t tell him what was about to happen, but he seemed to understand, nevertheless. His fingers slid along your pulsing folds to catch at the rim of your entrance, circling it once before slipping inside. Your walls immediately clamped onto the digits, muscles undulating to pull them deeper. He growled at the feeling and latched onto your clit again crooking his fingers in a come-hither motion, the strokes sharp and quick as they tapped out a devastating tattoo against the spongy membrane of your G-spot.

The world went white behind your pinched eyelids, and you weren’t even aware of the choked scream that tore out of your throat as you were blindsided by your orgasm. The spring in your core gave way with a snap and warmth flooded from your center to gush out around his fingers and over his arm, splattering his lower face, cowl and chest plate.

“Ha!” he crowed. “That’s it! Fuck yes!”

You were barely hanging on, your very bones liquefied as you twitched and groaned with each consecutive pulse of your climax. If you had oozed out through the holes in the net to pool at his feet, you wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.

“So fuckin’ good, for me. Look at that. Fuck, I need — nngh!”

You heard the motor of the winch whir back into life, then felt the cold sensation of the floor touch the bottom of your feet. You couldn’t have held up your own weight if your life depended on it, however, and so folded up with the netting as it came to rest on the floor. Strong hands lifted you out the mess of straps, hands moving over you, manipulating you as he whispered feverish words in Mando’a like some fervent benediction.

You felt your back come to rest on top of the netting, the worn fabric of his cape spread out beneath you to serve as a barrier against the rough material. You had yet to open your eyes, jaw slack as you floated somewhere high above your physical body in a state of pure bliss.

Mando placed his calloused hand over your eyes, unwilling to test fate more than he already had. He felt crazed, rabid with lust, his only desire to be buried balls-deep in your cunt.

“Need to feel you, sweet girl,” he gasped at your ear, his breath stuttering against your neck. “Please, I need — “

“Yes! Stars, please, Mando. Want to feel you inside me. Do it...”

He whimpered as he lifted himself away long enough to scrabble at the closure of his pants, shoving them down with his underwear to the top of his thigh plates, a frustrating exercise to complete one-handed. When his cock sprang free of its confines, he moaned in relief, pumping it roughly a couple of times as he spread his leaking precrum over the head with his thumb. With a grunt, he fell between your thighs, notching himself at your entrance, inhaling a deep breath before he sank into your greedy, grasping cunt with an audible squelch.

“Fuuuckin’ hellll...” he moaned out as he slid inside your fluttering walls, grunting again when he felt them collapse around his cock and seize it in a vice grip. It was a struggle to draw himself back, the sensation making his balls draw up tight against his body. “Too good... too tight... Gonna make me cum...” he mumbled under his breath, fighting off his orgasm. When he had withdrawn a about halfway, he couldn’t stand it anymore and plunged back in, thrusting hard enough to shift the netting beneath you.

You sobbed, the feeling of being so full overwhelming, your shaking legs coming up to wrap around his hips, ankles locking over the flexing muscles of his ass. He was driving into you with abandon, the toes of his boots squeaking on the floor to find purchase, bracing his body against yours. His other arm he shoved under your back, fingers hooking over your shoulder to pull you down on his cock to meet each hard thrust. He was growling, muttering curses in multiple languages, hissing as you clenched and pulsed around him.

“Ah, fuck, sweet girl, I’m gonna — Shit! Fuck, baby, where do you want — “

“Inside... Want to feel you cum in me...” you moaned out, another orgasm rising like a massive wave in your core. “Ah, fuck!” you whined.

Your words snapped that last thread of control he had, and he surged forward, thrusting in wild, arhythmic strokes that sent you careening over the edge. Your climax washed over you like a euphoric wave, slow and liquid, a golden warmth that engulfed your lower half before spreading like molten honey.

Mando could feel your walls clamp down and spasm, milking his cock, drawing him in deeper. He threw his head back and came with a bellow, a primal, jagged roar of triumph. His chest lifted as his back arched, his cock exploding inside your walls, pumping ribbons of his thick seed deep into your hungry cunt.

He barely managed to throw an arm out to catch himself before falling forward. He was trembling above you. and when his elbow buckled, his head fell to your chest. His nose was smooshed into the side of your breast, his panting breaths teasing the sensitive bud of your nipple into a hard little nub beneath the thin material of his tunic. He gave a dazed grin at the sight, wishing he had the energy to take it in his mouth, but he wasn’t sure he could even lift his head yet.

“Stars, pretty girl. I think you’ve killed me.”

A breathless wheeze of laughter burst out of your chest, and you reached up to pull down the hand now splayed limp over your face to your lips. You left a lingering kiss in the palm as you crooked your other arm over your eyes, just so the temptation to peek wouldn’t get the best of you. You felt him lift his head with reluctance, his weight shifting, before his lips pressed to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss.

“You alright? I know I went pretty hard this time. I didn’t mean to lose it like that, but — “

Your hand came up to touch his face, landing on his neck instead. You slid it upward to cup his jaw, the feel of his patchy beard against your palm endearing. “Don’t you dare apologize,” you told him and drew him down for another kiss. “It was perfect. The best I’ve ever had,” you whispered against his lips.

He sighed, smiling against your mouth in relief and pleasure. When he shifted again, he saw you grimace. “Did I hurt you, sweet girl?” he rushed to ask, lifting his weight off you.

You giggled and shook your head. “No, it’s not that. There’s something cold and sticky all over your chest plate. It feels... icky.”

He glanced down to see your release from earlier smeared over his beskar, and he chuckled, low and dirty. “That’s your fault,” he teased. “You drowned me when you came the first time.”

Your mouth dropped open and, if not for his hand coming down to hold your arm in place, you would have jerked it away from your eyes to stare at him in shock. “I did not!” you gasped. mortified.

“Oh, you did, pretty girl,” he crooned. “I want to make you do it again.”

“What? N-Now?!”

A full-on laugh rumbled out of his chest this time. “No, sweet girl. As much as I’d love to, I don’t either one of us is going to be able to go another round after that last one.”

“Oh, thank the Maker,” you blurted out, and then winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean —”

He sniffed in amusement and pecked you on the lips. “I know what you meant, mesh’la.” Sitting back on his knees, he rubbed at his face, grinning at the sticky feel of your spend drying in his mustache. He was positively covered in your cum, and he fucking loved it. His poor cock gave a valiant twitch before he tucked it back into his pants and stood. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let’s get in the shower.” He retrieved his helmet, slipping it back on before bending to take you by the hand.

You groaned. “Just lemme sleep here. Can’t move right now.”

“You’ll freeze down here,” he chided you. “Now come on. I’ll help you.”

You whined as he hauled you onto your feet, and you staggered on your shaking legs. He shook his head and turned his back to you, bending his knees slightly. “Hop on. I’ll carry you up the ladder. Otherwise, we will be down here all night.”

You made a face at him, but wrapped your arms around his neck anyway, making a weak hop to get onto his back. Grasping your thighs, he hitched you up a little higher and stood, then trudged towards the ladder at the opposite end of the hold.

“Oh, stars,” you moaned out behind him, dropping your forehead to his back. “Do you think we woke Grogu? We were, uh... ahem... We were, you know, a little loud,” you whispered.

“Well, the ship’s still flying, and I didn’t hear anything break while we were down here, so I’m going to say no.”

You giggled. “He’s gonna get it tomorrow morning,” you vowed. “He was the reason I got caught up in that stupid net in the first place. He somehow managed to get on that top shelf with a whole sleeve of cookies and my datapad.” You paused, moaned again. “Shit. My datapad. It broke when I dropped it.”

“Don’t worry, mesh’la. We’ll get you another one, and I’ll talk to Grogu myself tomorrow morning, right after breakfast. Okay?”

You sighed, a little grin tugging at your lips. “Okay.” You heaved a sigh, tightening your grip when Mando started to climb up the ladder. “I know one thing. I’m burning that stupid net when we get back to Nevarro.”

Mando huffed and shook his head. “Like hell you are. We’re bringing that home with us. It’s going up in the bedroom, right above the bed.”

You gasped in shock, rearing your head back. “Mando!”

His rumbling chuckle bounced off the metal walls of the ship, and a warmth like the sun bloomed in your chest as a smile as big as the Dune Sea spread across your face.

“Okay, fine. We’ll discuss the cargo net later. But right now, I want a shower.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mando purred, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Taking your hand, he led you into the ‘fresher.

Despite Mando’s earlier doubts, you found out that you both did indeed have another round left in you.

(End notes: Just wanted to mention @saradika because she created the dividers and banners I’m using. She makes them for free. You can check out her masterlist on her blog. Her fics are *chef’s kiss* too.)

#din djarin x fem reader #mando x fem reader #din x fem reader #mandalorian x fem reader #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #din x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #mando smut #din djarin smut #mando fic #mandalorian fanfic

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licorice-tea · 3 months

Text

You’re An Angel When You Sleep

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: angst, drowning, a little “off-screen” violence, hurt/comfort, near death experience

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: literally wrote this in between classes so hopefully it doesn’t feel too rushed! not edited super closely yet, the grammar might be a little off. inspired by the song “Around The Bend” by Pearl Jam, specifically the last verse <3

Edited 2/28/24

Law is sinking, and there’s nothing he can do.

People call it “The Curse of The Sea.” They say that “she” turns her back on you when you eat a devil fruit. It’s simply the price to pay for such immense power.

And he has never had to worry about it before. His devil fruit ability affords him the security of being to prevent trips into the ocean. Not that he ever would fall- Law is far too careful a man- but he has plenty of crewmates and friends/allies that could somehow knock him overboard.

How sickening, that the first time it actually happened was at the hands of an enemy. And how disappointing, that it had only happened because of his own pride. A foolish disregard of taking caution while standing close to the railing on the enemy ship, when one of his opponent’s underlings threw something that didn’t even really hurt, but sent him overboard. In the midst of a battle where everyone was expected to hold their own- Law could expect no help as he plunged into icy waters.

It’s cold enough as it is, and his curse does nothing to help. He tries his hardest to stay conscious- perhaps he can still use his power if he thinks hard enough. People awaken their devil fruits all the time, so there’s no reason why he can’t do it now. But, no matter how badly he wants to simply teleport back to the deck of the ship, he can’t. The feeling of impending doom only serves to weaken his resolve, and soon enough Law is unwillingly giving up and giving in to the sea.

He’s about 10-12 meters down now. The weight of the water makes it feel nearly impossible to hold his breath for longer, so he lets out an exhale ever so slowly.

But no one is coming, and it’s time to accept his fate. “This is it,” he thinks, “just another pirate lost to the sea. That’s how it ends for me.”

He takes a moment to reflect on life up until now. So much pain and suffering, but in the end he just can’t stop remembering what little good there has been. His crew, who, no matter how much they bothered him, were his family. His blood family and Corazon, who he hopes to see again soon if there is any sort of afterlife. Then there’s you- with your uncanny ability to make him smile and laugh, your clever personality and friendly nature, all your strength and intelligence, and seemingly unwavering good morals. Law feels he barely deserves to have known you in this life, let alone fall in love with you as he has. Which is why he never shared his feelings with you or anyone, in all the time you’d been on his crew. Before this moment, he’d at least had the comfort of knowing there would always be the future, and therefore more time to open up to you figure out his feelings.

“How foolish.”

Law is just about to close his eyes- at least then it might be a more peaceful demise- when there’s a splash that breaks the surface of the waves. His eyes shoot wide open as he tries to figure out what it is, as it’s rather difficult to see clearly with his vision blurring and on the verge of losing consciousness.

All he can be sure of is that it’s a person. The light from above the waves surrounds their silhouette giving them an angelic halo, but simultaneously blocking out all their features from his view.

Law wonders, “Are you here to seal my fate? To ensure I don’t find some way out of this?” If he could, he’d ask that they do it quickly. Still, that painfully hopeful little part of his mind can’t help but come out in what are more than likely his last moments alive. “Or, are you here to save me? Are you gonna give me a second third chance at this? I don’t deserve it, but I will accept it. I’ll use it to do more; work harder, fulfill every goal. Confess to y/n.”

And that hopeful streak seems to take over his body as he uses his last iota of strength to reach upwards. Law’s angel continues swimming downward, but he can’t hold his breath long enough to see them reaching out to him, too.

His last thought is of you. He swears he can see your face on this mystery person as they get closer; your pretty eyes and lips, your hair swirling around your form underwater. Could it actually be… No, he doubts you’d even seen him falling overboard. But maybe he’s already dead, and you really are an angel. Law doesn’t get the chance to fully consider either reality though, as he finally blacks out.

“Gimme gimme gimme… a man after midnight…”

This is how Law taught you to do CPR on someone whose heart had stopped. Years ago, when you were struggling with keeping count of 100-120 beats per minute, he told you to “think of a song with the same count.” Most everyone’s go-to CPR song is “Stayin’ Alive.” But, you prefer the classic ABBA song. You pause every 30 compressions to administer 2 breaths, and as you remove your lips from his, a thought crosses your mind. “He looks so peaceful like this.” And even while unconscious, he’s handsome… angelic, even. Nevertheless, you’d much rather have an alive and annoyed looking Law than a dead and calm one.

“Is there a soul out there… Someone to hear my-”

Law coughs suddenly, and shoots up into a sitting position, gasping for breath.

“Law!” You throw your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the man back over.

And though he’s still catching his breath and coming to his senses, he lets you, and puts an arm around your back. “Y/n,” another cough, “what happened?”

You release him (much to his disappointment) and explain how the fight had ended soon after the crew lost sight of him; their captain. And, while the others quickly overtook the enemies, you dove overboard where you’d last seen him. It was pure luck, though guided by your intuition, that you found Law beneath the surface.

“Then I swam over here-“

“Which is where?”

You nod in the direction behind him. “Just around the bend from the harbor. The Polar Tang and the enemy’s ship can be seen from there, so I thought it’d be best to hide while you…”

“While I was dying.”

“Don’t say it like that,” you scold him with a frown, “you’re alive.”

“But I could have died.” Law says with very little pride. He sounds a little out of it, which makes sense considering the circumstances. “I could have died, and you saved me.”

“Well, any one of us would’ve, Captain-“

“Thank you, y/n.”

You shake your head bashfully. “It was no problem, really.” That’s a lie, and you both know it. The water in this part of the ocean is freezing, but through some incredible resolve that you hadn’t been aware of before, you pushed through it. For him. “So… We should get back to the fight, yeah?”

You move to stand up from your place on your knees, but Law stops you. With his hand on your shoulder, he pulls you back down to his side. “You said the fight is over?”

“Mhm.”

“Then let’s just… stay here, for a moment.”

He leans toward you hesitantly, though you’re not sure if it’s because he feels weak or he just wants you to hold him again. Either way, you wrap your arms around him and rest your chin on his shoulder. You hold onto each other with gentle force, and you feel him exhale deeply.

“I need to tell you something.” Law mutters.

You pull back enough to see his face. “Right now? Can’t it wait, Law-“

“I can’t want any longer.” And he really can’t. He’d tell you about how he had mistaken you for a living, breathing angel another time. For now, he just needs to fulfill his promise to said angel (to you?), and confess his love for you.

“Ok… What is it?”

Law is very straightforward as he says it. “I’m in love with you.” And he makes it impossibly hard to return to the battle when he asks that you never leave him in this life, like so many others have. Which you promise not to, of course, though it’s not exactly your decision. You tell him that you love him too, and in turn demand that he doesn’t die on you, either. Law nods against you.

The two of you stay there a while longer, in each other’s arms around the bend.

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece #x reader #law x reader #law x you #law angst #angst with a happy ending #angst #h/c #devil fruit #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #law x y/n

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lee-lucius · 5 months

Text

Fatherly Love

Summary: Zeff isn't used to dealing with kids, especially not one like Sanji.

Word Count: 5,630

Warning: Mild spoilers for Sanji and Zeff's backstory (The Baratie Arc)

There is nowhere near enough content for Sanji and Zeff, and I had to do something about. I've only seen the live action and started reading the manga (hopefully it isn't too ooc 😅), but I'm already unreasonably attached to these two. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 💙

Zeff never saw it as anything complicated. When they finally did get off that godforsaken rock, Sanji had nowhere to go. And, well, he'd already given up a leg for the boy; he didn't see why he shouldn't give up piracy as well.

So they started over. Neither of them were ready to give up the sea, not until they found the All Blue, and Zeff always enjoyed sharing a meal. So they opened Baratie.

Maybe it wasn't the best place for a kid to grow up, on a ship full of angry brutes, but the little eggplant got on well enough with the crew—Zeff made sure of that—and he seemed content enough. At least, better than he had been after their rescue. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't horrible, either.

But there were still moments that shattered their illusion of peace, like right now. Sighing, Zeff pulled off his sheets, slowly sitting up and slipping his legs off the bed, taking a moment to steady himself. It wasn't as easy as it'd been in his younger years. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the wooden leg, or the little eggplant's muffled cries that kept him up almost every night.

It was odd, considering what a deep sleeper Zeff had been when he was younger, but it was almost as if he had a sixth sense for when Sanji needed him; when he'd wake up, shivering and sobbing over his latest nightmare, Zeff woke up as well, lumbering over to his room to provide what little comfort he could for a boy who'd been through far too much.

Knocking lightly, he waited for Sanji's muffled consent before entering and closing the door softly behind him. He didn't know why he'd bothered giving Sanji his own room when Zeff spent the night there more often than not. Something about a growing boy needing his privacy; how simple he thought it'd be.

"Just me," Zeff said, as if they both weren't already used to this routine. It still made something stir uncomfortably in his chest every time, seeing Sanji's small figure curled up in his bed, blankets huddled around him like a faulty shield, head tucked into his chest to hide his tear-stained face, though Zeff still saw the way his shoulders trembled and heard the pained, hiccuping gasps Sanji tried to hide.

Zeff didn't say anything else. There was no reason to bombard the boy with pointless questions, especially when it only seemed to send him slipping further into a panic.

He never knew what he was supposed to do in situations like this. He liked to think his presence helped; after all, he was the only who'd been there with Sanji, though Zeff thought his issues began with something long before the shipwreck, and Sanji never stopped letting him in. But he'd never quite been a smooth talker, save for with women, and always found himself tongue-tied in situations like these. Zeff wasn't one for emotions, and Sanji was perhaps the most emotional boy he'd ever known.

There wasn't much to do besides perch on his bed, sitting as far away from Sanji as possible to give him space, and frown, trying to act as if his heart wasn't ripping in two at each muffled cry.

It must have been an especially bad night. Zeff realized that as his cries slowly quieted and his small, trembling frame steadily inched closer. Finally, Sanji's knee, barely a fraction of the size, touched his own. He was tense, more than before, and skittish, as if any wrong move from Zeff could send him running. It probably would. So Zeff did nothing, allowing Sanji his own time to decide.

They'd never been affectionate with each other. Zeff had never been affectionate with anyone, really, except for in the brief way that sailors met with women, something as intimate as these moments with Sanji but in an entirely different way.

Zeff had only ever used his body for that and fighting, which only made this harder. It wasn't like the other times Samji had reached out for him, right after the rock, or even in the midst of it, when he threw himself at Zeff in a moment of reckless grief, while Zeff wrapped his arms around him, trying to offer comfort in a way he didn't know how.

This was different. Slower. Intentional. Calculated, even.

It wasn't a helpless boy blindly reaching out to soothe the ache in his heart, but it was a helpless boy reaching out to him.

Sanji wanted him.

Zeff waited. Sanji continued to creep closer until he leaned into Zeff's side, and finally, slowly, gently, slower and gentler than he ever thought he could be, Zeff wrapped his arm around him, pulling Sanji into a hug.

Sanji buried his face in his chest, his own clumsy arms wrapping around Zeff, clutching handfuls of his shirt as if he was afraid to let go, afraid this would end.

"You're alright now," he said, voice gruffer, and a bit more emotional, than he intended. He lifted one hand, stroking his hair, the other rubbing his back, trying to remember what soothed him all those long years ago when he was a boy. "That's over. You're alright."

Sanji held onto him all night, crying until he finally slipped back into sleep, and Zeff stayed there, awake and cursing the growing ache in his back, until it was time for morning prep, when he shook Sanji awake, squeezing his shoulder one last time before leaving him to get ready for the day.

Neither of them spoke about what happened.

They barely spoke at all, save for a mini-screaming match when Zeff tried to drown Sanji's dish in oregano before it was sent out to his patrons.

It was a busy day, but at least they had had a functioning waitstaff for once—thank god for small mercies. Zeff didn't have the time to babysit Sanji, not anymore than usual, when he had to try and keep the rest of his rowdy crew in line, though he figured the reason at least half of their customers were there was in hopes of seeing the rumored fighting pirates.

There was hardly even a moment for him to sit down, rest his leg and back, and get some shut eye, though the sips of alcohol he savored between the lunch and dinner rushes helped.

But at the end of the day, he was more drunk on exhaustion than anything else, practically stumbling over his feet as he stalked through the kitchen, ensuring every surface and every dish was up to his standards. On days like these, the last day before they hauled up their anchor and moved on, his men tended to get lazy, a problem he could never solve no matter how many times he yelled at them. Except for one, who shared his dutiful dedication to maintaining a clean kitchen.

"Shouldn't you be heading off?" Zeff asked, glancing at Sanji as he silently swept the floors. "A growing boy needs his rest."

"I could say the same. Doesn't a shitty old man need his beauty sleep?"

He grunted. They both knew why he was so tired, and they both knew why Sanji didn't want to go to sleep, but they both said nothing. Didn't matter much tonight, anyway. They could both sleep in, supposing Sanji managed to stay asleep for once. Zeff put a kettle on the stove. Tea usually helped Sanji get through the night.

"Come here, kid," he called, after the tea was brewed. Sanji always preferred it sweeter, so he added a dollop of sugar and spoonful of honey, while he added something a little stronger to his.

Zeff kicked a stool in his direction, and he sat down, gratefully taking the mug that came along with it and enjoying a long sip.

"Not as shit as usual," he said, which was about as good a compliment as any, coming from him.

Leaning against the counter next to him, Zeff took a much needed drink of his own, glaring down at him. "You don't need to help me down here every night. Not that you're much help."

"'Not much help'? I'm the only reason people come to this shithole!"

"Mm. Are you then?" He didn't have the energy for this now. Damn kid.

"I'm the only half-decent chef you have!"

Zeff would never understand where his arrogance came from, not that it was entirely unwarranted. He had made Sanji his sous-chef for a reason, and it wasn't just his fondness for him.

"And who's the one that taught how to make those fancy little dishes, eggplant?"

"It doesn't matter when you drown everything in oregano."

"It's a delicacy!"

"It's for savages!" He slammed his empty mug on the counter, his one visible eye glaring daggers at Zeff, who had to resist the urge to laugh. It'd be a good few years before Sanji got anywhere close to intimidating him.

"You're too young. Palate hasn't developed yet," he waved him off, collecting his glass to wash it in the sink. No need making the kid do it, not when he was practically about to fall off his stool.

"No, you're too old. Can't taste shit anymore."

Zeff rolled his eyes. He didn't know why he always started a fight. Just his attitude, he supposed. He had to take in a kid with the worst personality imaginable. And it didn't help that he was eerily similar to how Zeff had been at that age.

"I can still see well enough, and you're done for the night."

Sanji stumbled to his feet, knowing he was right but not wanting to agree with him. "You look worse than I do."

"Mhm. Then let's both get to bed," he said, because Sanji was right too, and he couldn't bother to keep up with any more banter.

Nudging him in the back, Zeff wasn't prepared for Sanji's violent flinch that almost sent him toppling over. He resisted his instinct to reach out and steady him, figuring that would only make things worse. Instead, Sanji's fingers dug into the countertop, clutching it so hard his knuckles paled, and he turned towards Zeff, eyeing him wearily.

They stared at each other for a moment, silent, before Zeff sighed.

"Go on. Up to bed."

Sanji only nodded and trudged along. Zeff supposed they hadn't made as much progress as he thought. He'd have to be more careful next time.

Zeff always preferred days when Baratie was sailing. As much as he enjoyed the regular hustle and bustle, serving whatever customers had washed up that day, he enjoyed these quiet moments more.

It was good, standing on deck and watching the ship bob in the water, breathing in the sea breeze that was never the same when they were stagnant. He craved the movement, the sailing. And the quiet. Which made him feel like the old man Sanji always insisted he was. As if he was coaxing into retirement and savoring easy days on the sea.

But there was never anything easy on Baratie.

After he'd assembled his men to yell at them about their lazy behavior yesterday and lack of respect, they were dismissed and shuffled out of the kitchen, grumbling among each other but knowing better than to stand up to Zeff.

They'd be really punished later, but a light scalding was enough for now. Especially when he had other plans.

Sanji crept into the kitchen, eagerly buzzing around with a frantic energy Zeff rarely saw. That was another good thing about it. On days like these, Sanji was more excited than Zeff had ever seen him.

It was like there was finally life in the kid. His cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and joy palpable. He couldn't shut up either. The whole time he was rambling, trying to spew out his mess of ideas all at once that had been building up in his head since the last time they did this.

It really wasn't anything that special, and it always led to more than one argument between them, but Sanji liked to offer his input to these menu changes, even when most of his ideas consisted of trite, over-inspired pieces of shit. Though Sanji felt the same way about most of Zeff's dishes.

After gathering up all of his ingredients and managing to form his ramblings into something coherent, Sanji prepared his sample dishes with Zeff watching closely, correcting his mistakes or suggesting alternate techniques. Sanji was always surprisingly receptive to his advice, though he was always an enthusiastic student, and Zeff thought he preferred it when they were alone like this. Even if he still protested oregano coming anywhere near his food. Damn rebellious kid.

It took the entire day and only two fights that escalated so far Zeff worried Sanji would grab the knife on the cutting board and stab him, which was better than usual. They'd sampled enough dishes that neither of them were hungry, nor the rest of the crew, not when they called in a member or two for a third opinion, or a witness when their fights got especially heated.

The kitchen was a mess, but it wasn't their problem. Zeff wanted to head in early, and his crew had to be punished for their mess yesterday, so making them deal with disaster was only fair. With all of them working together, it wouldn't take too long anyway, unless they got into a fight—no, until they got into a fight, forcing Zeff to straighten them out again.

But until then, he pulled Sanji with him above deck to relax for a change.

The sun was already beginning to set; the sky fading into a pinkish-reddish color as Zeff sat down to watch it. Now he really was acting like an old man. Maybe he should start thinking about retirement.

He glanced at Sanji, but he seemed to be enjoying himself as well, even with something as simple as this. It seemed they both savored these little, simple moments.

Now would be a good time to continue their other training. Zeff had been teaching the boy to fight, only simple moves so far, though their progress was slowed by Zeff's own efforts to adjust to his new leg. But it was late, and they were both tired, even if yesterday was one of Sanji's better nights. He'd put it off for another day.

Zeff was so absorbed by his thoughts that he almost didn't register the movement in the corner of his eye. Not until Sanji was noticeably closer to him.

It was different this time. Maybe it was because of his excitable attitude today, or maybe he was starting to feel just a bit more at ease around him, but Sanji, in one quick, casual motion, pressed into Zeff's side, leaning against him.

His body was stiff, no matter how nonchalant he tried to act, and when Zeff looked at him closely enough, he could see the slight shake in his hands. It took a few minutes before Sanji began to relax, his tense muscles easing into the touch, and in another act of courage, he leaned his head against Zeff's shoulder.

He was warm. That was the first thing Zeff noticed. He wasn't used to being touched like this. Besides Sanji's fits after his nightmares and consoling his men who managed to survive the battle but not much afterwards, he hadn't been this close to someone since he was a child. Even then, no one ever reached out to him, curling up beside him the way Sanji did.

It was oddly comfortable, and Zeff found himself enjoying the affection more than he should. This was something he never could've imagined, not at his age.

While he never disliked children, he'd never been particularly fond of them either. And as much as he respected women, he never found one that interested him; no men either, so he never imagined settling down with someone, starting a family, not when his first love was cooking. But here he was, with Sanji. And he couldn't deny his growing affection for the boy, even if he was as rude and shitty as most of the grown men Zeff knew and more traumatized and disturbed than any child should be. He couldn't be sure—it was something he'd never experienced before—but Zeff thought his affection must have been something like that a father felt for his child.

It was a troubling thought that was becoming more persistent, and he had no clue if Sanji felt the same, but that was a problem for another time.

Now, it didn't matter. He simply shifted, leaning his own head against Sanji's to reciprocate the touch and imagined the nervous smile on the kid's face that he must've been fighting so hard to hide.

Maybe this had gone too far, Zeff realized, far, far too late to do anything about it.

It started simple enough.

Sanji had always been a fidgety kid, a fact that Zeff and practically anyone who knew him more than an hour could realize. He was never still, always moving, always squirming. And clumsy, too. He was prone to tripping over his own feet, something that their training had made marginally better so far, but Zeff still held onto the hope that he'd fall out of it with age when the rest of his body grew into his long legs.

Zeff didn't mind; truly, he found it more entertaining than anything else to see the boy bounce around the kitchen. It never interfered with his work, Sanji was far too professional for that, but there were times when Sanji's body moved and fidgeted around so quickly Zeff swore his limbs would fly off, and Sanji swore that he'd die of boredom if something didn't change.

So Zeff came up with a solution. A rather practical one, he liked to think. Instead of twiddling with his fingers or tugging at the strings of his apron or furiously flapping his hands, Zeff, like a practical seaman, taught him how to tie knots. Figured it'd pay off, considering how much of his life the boy spent on a ship.

He'd bring him up to the deck, show him the ropes and give a brief explanation, then show him how to tie every knot just right and send him off with a smaller scrap to practice.

It seemed to help, though they never talked about such things. Sanji simply practiced his knots, asking Zeff when he wasn't sure if he'd gotten it right, and he'd whip it out and practice anytime he got bored, during lulls between the dinner and lunch rush or at night, in bed, when he was trying to fall asleep.

Zeff didn't know how it ended up like this. He'd noticed Sanji's habit, how he'd begun to unconsciously twist strands into his complicated knots, like his apron or the loose fibers on his cheap blanket. It'd escalated fast.

Sanji must've known it would be another bad night, because he didn't bother going to his own room, instead silently teetering after Zeff to stay with him. He didn't like to be alone on bad nights.

There hadn't even been any sign of it, any indication; he simply leveled a heavy stare at Zeff and not asked, ordered him.

"Stay still. I need to try something."

"What are you planning?" He asked warily, recognizing that glint in Sanji's eye that was only there when he got up to mischief, an occasion that was becoming less and less rare.

"Quiet. I need to focus."

Then Sanji was sitting cross-legged in front of him as Zeff sat, back pressed against the headboard. He had to lean down an uncomfortable amount for Sanji to, much to his horror, reach his mustache as he began working on whatever convoluted idea he had.

Zeff wasn't sure what he was doing, as his eyes were firmly closed—and Sanji began yelling at him anytime he so much as tried to peak them open—but it seemed as if Sanji was styling his hair, hands working with a surprising gentleness and expected hurriedness, though it seemed as if his rush ruined his work, judging his heaving sigh every few minutes as he straightened out Zeff's mustache to start over. Always a perfectionist.

It was annoying, like Sanji always was, but Zeff found he didn't mind the intrusion as much as he thought he should. Not that or the tedious ache once again spreading through his back or the feeling of pins-and-needles in his legs that had fallen asleep under Sanji's weight, who sat precariously on top of them.

Perhaps he couldn't complain because he knew what Sanji had been like mere weeks and months before, and that boy never would've afforded Zeff with this casual closeness, one that made an unsettling happiness grow in him, because he knew that they were getting somewhere, that this makeshift ship was becoming closer and closer to the little eggplant's home, and that did, ashamedly, make Zeff happy.

"Okay, I'm done," Sanji finally announced, and Zeff let out a sigh, of relief or disappointment he wasn't sure.

"On with it then," he opened his eyes, this time without any urgent protest from Sanji, and shifted his good leg with a smile too fond for his liking. "Up so I can look."

Something resembling a scowl appeared on Sanji's face, but it was gone just as quickly as he scrambled off of him, rolling onto the side of the bed. Zeff took his time, ignoring Sanji's protests, to stand up, letting feeling come back into his limbs as he stretched before trudging over to his drawers, accompanied with a small mirror hanging above it.

It was about what he'd expected. Zeff's mustache was styled into two somewhat unkempt braids, tied up with his usual blue ribbons. It wasn't half bad, not for the eggplant's first try, and Zeff didn't recall teaching him any braids. He wondered where he'd learned how to do that, but now wasn't the time for questions.

"Right. We done here?"

Sanji's cheeks puffed out slightly, tinged red as his face morphed into a pout. He always did wear his emotions on his sleeve, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Reluctantly, he nodded and stood from the bed.

Zeff turned out the lamp, settling back down into his bed and sparing a glance at Sanji. "You layin' down or not?"

There was a moment of awkward shuffling, Sanji's head darting back and forth between Zeff's bed and the door, looking as if he wished he had that rope on him to give his body something to do and soothe his mind.

After an uncomfortable amount of time passed, Sanji perched himself at the edge of the bed, slowly laying down, as if he was scared Zeff would change his mind and yell at him to scram.

He didn't. He had an extra blanket and pillow, so he didn't mind at all, though if he had to, he knew he would've given his own to Sanji to make him comfortable—the kid hardly got enough sleep as it was.

"Night," he grunted, then added, far too impulsively, "Didn't do half bad with the hair."

For a moment, he thought he imagined Sanji's muffled sounds of joy, but then he only laughed quietly to himself, thinking about all the trouble this dumb kid brought with him.

Zeff was going soft, and he couldn't bring himself to care.

Morning was quiet. Zeff woke up first, squinting at his window, watching the faint rays of light trickle in.

It was early, but he wasn't ready to go back to sleep. Instead, he carefully shifted in the bed, turning on his side to face Sanji. He was still sleeping, lying curled up on his stomach. Zeff didn't realize how much he moved in his sleep, not until Sanji woke him up more than once in the night with a flying limb.

He'd seen him sleeping before. After Sanji had crossed to his side of the rock and discovered Zeff's secret, there was less distance between them. Less reason to hide. And Sanji seemed to, for whatever reason, like the company of bitter old men, apparently as much as Zeff like the company of snarky young kids. But there were some nights when Sanji fell asleep there, with Zeff. He'd moved around too then, violently, thrashing so much Zeff feared he'd fall right into the ocean. He was prone to nightmares then too, but he didn't have any more tears to cry by then, just hiccuping gasps that sounded so painful coming from his dry, aching throat.

He wasn't having a nightmare now. His face was relaxed, not curled up in an aching knot of dread like it usually was. His chest rose and fell with calm, steady breaths. Zeff couldn't see it clearly, not in the dim light, but he heard it, and the noise was a comfort.

Another impulse. That's what Zeff wanted to blame it on. Say that his arm had a mind of its own; that he acted without thinking. He didn't know if that was better or worse than the truth.

But he did know what he was doing. And he wanted to. That was the reason.

That was the reason he reached his hand out, with a touch lighter and gentler than he ever thought he was capable of, combing through Sanji's hair to fix the disheveled mess.

It was soft and void of any obnoxious clumps, both traits he attributed to Sanji's fixation with his appearance. Just had to look good for the ladies, apparently. Not that any took interest in him. The little eggplant had about as much charm as one.

Hair straightened, his hand trailed further down, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the back of his neck. It was something he normally only did after a nightmare, when Sanji cried and clung to him, but it seemed appropriate now too. He thought it was good for Sanji. He always slept better when Zeff held him.

Except now. Sanji twitched, and Zeff worried he'd wake him, so he lightened his touch, fingers barely grazing the skin, and that's when he heard it.

A giggle.

The noise was muffled by the pillows, but it was unmistakable in the quiet of his room. Something high-pitched and boyish and utterly unexpected.

Zeff's hand stilled, staring intently at Sanji. His body was still and breathing steady. He'd heard Sanji talk before in his sleep, but laugh? That seemed odd. Unless it was something else.

Curiously, he continued his light movement, holding back a laugh of his own when he noticed Sanji squirm, twisting back and forth but trying so hard to hide it.

So he was awake. And Zeff didn't see why he shouldn't have his fun.

He changed tactics, switching to scratching at Sanji's neck, touch still light, using just his blunt nails.

There was another noise; this one was more like a muffled whine, low in his throat and barely contained. One of his arms shifted, trying for a subtly he had never been gifted with, and pushed the pillow further into his face, hiding his wide smile.

How stupid did Sanji think he was? He wasn't sure he actually wanted to know after this. And if Zeff said something, he knew it'd ruin the moment. He didn't want to.

He didn't, so he continued tickling the boy who he'd become uncomfortably fond of.

His hand drifted, grazing across the side of his neck in a way that made Sanji's shoulders scrunch up. He couldn't contain himself anymore, and soft giggles poured out of him. The kid was oddly cute like this, and that fond feeling he had for Sanji only grew.

Zeff was careful. They'd never done anything like this—he doubted Sanji'd ever even been tickled before—and they were still in a somewhat precarious position surrounding the kid's tolerance for any touch at all. He wasn't one to be playful, but Zeff figured this was the closest he'd ever get as he moved to new spots.

Sanji chortled when he scratched under his chin, and seeming to have given up the act of pretending to be asleep, kicked his legs when Zeff's fingers prodded at his ears. The strongest reaction came when he scribbled at his back—Zeff hadn't even known backs could be ticklish—making an alarmed high-pitched sound that Zeff could only call a squeal, grip around the pillow tightening, trying to hide his embarrassment or laugh or something, Zeff figured.

After a few more moments, Zeff stopped, pulling his hand away and waiting for Sanji to collect himself. It took a long time for his laughter to calm down, but Zeff only watched, unable to help his own amused smile.

Finally, Sanji removed his face from the pillow, looking up at Zeff. His face was completely flushed, and he had a large, dopey smile on his face that Zeff had only ever seen when he was talking to a girl. Dumb kid.

"Um…" Sanji brought the pillow to his chest, hugging it tightly and partially obscuring his face. "What was that?"

"Tickling. Ever happened to you before?"

He shook his head, eyes flitting away from Zeff with a sad look. He was quiet, seemingly lost in thought, and Zeff watched him, waiting for Sanji to gather himself.

It took a few minutes before he dropped the pillow, propping himself up. There was still a trace of sadness, but there was something else, something Zeff couldn't quite place.

His eyes were big and droopy, fatigue weighing down his lashes and a smile, albeit faint, dragged across his lips. In the quiet of these late nights and early mornings, there was something different about Sanji, more tender. Like the darkness of the sky cloaked them in a veil of security, wrapping around his shoulders and tucking him in with the same comfort of a loving parent.

Leaning closer, a yawn breezing past his lips, Sanji shifted further towards Zeff, mumbling, "'t's nice."

"Guess so," he grunted and, seeing the expectant look on his face, reached back out, curling his fingers into Sanji's side until he burst into another fit of giggles.

Zeff supposed it was quite nice.

Sanji, by some miracle, had actually managed to fall back asleep after crying for mercy.

Zeff wasn't tired, but he stayed, figuring Sanji wouldn't like waking up alone, and there wasn't much work to be done today anyway; he could let him sleep in. He grabbed a book at random from his shelf, biding the time by staring absentmindedly at the pages, his attention always somehow drifting back to Sanji. It was almost annoying, the grip that the kid had on him.

When he did wake up, scolding Zeff for letting them stay in that late and wasting so much of the day as if Sanji was actually the adult. It was stupidly endearing.

Zeff, like always, brushed away his concerns. "Then stop complaining and help me get ready."

"Help?" Sanji asked, indignant, and Zeff sorrowfully remembered what an attitude he had on him. "What do you need now, old man? A diaper change?"

Sighing, he only gestured to his face, watching the confusion spread across Sanji's face and sighing again.

"The braids," he huffed, untying the ribbons. "They need to be redone."

Sometime during the night, or perhaps during his horseplay with Sanji, the hair had become wildly unruly, strands unwinding and sticking out at odd angles.

Sanji stared at him for a long moment like he was stupid. Then asked, in an oddly anxious voice, "What?"

"You heard me. Get on with it."

He couldn't bite back his smile. His whole face lit up, and no matter how hard he always tried to hide it, Sanji still always wore his heart on his sleeve, and his joy was infectious. Shuffling closer, he carefully reworked Zeff's mustache, hair now slightly curled, into a neat braid, redoing them both a few times until he was satisfied with his work, staring at Zeff proudly.

It was better than the ones yesterday; Zeff had to give him credit for that.

"Good work, little eggplant," he said, staring at himself in the mirror. "Now you go get ready. It's late."

Sanji, ever the dutiful worker, hurried out, but Zeff caught the blinding smile on his face before he left.

It was worth the odd stares he got from the rest of his crew, and none of them had the courage to say anything after Zeff stared down the first person who'd so much as uttered a word about it.

Unless it was a compliment, which he tolerated in silence only because it brought that bright smile back to Sanji's face, and the kid deserved the praise.

The day was slow and calmer than Baratie had any right to be.

There was an odd lightness in Sanji; Zeff didn't know if it was because of him, but he was glad.

And he was even happier when it seemed to persist into the next day and the next.

They still bickered, of course—the kid—his kid—just had to bitch about every little thing. They spent long days cooking together, sweating and struggling in their somehow always understaffed restaurant. They trained together on those off days, splitting time between cooking and fighting. And in those early mornings, late nights, and all the time in between, they regarded each other with a new softness, with the playful and affectionate touches Sanji had become accustomed to, the ones he craved.

And Zeff, forever worn out by the rude, annoying kid he'd ended up with, always indulged him, his little eggplant.

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