#no quarter catch crew

[cashordashdoesntmatter]

Love when Myles Borne gets a match on NXT

NXT - 4/23/2024

#myles borne #no quarter catch crew #wwe nxt #nxt wwe #hot wrestlers

[sydsaint]

Baby Regal my boy!!!!!!!! <3

Summary: NXT!GM!Reader congratulates Charlie on winning the prestigious NXT Heritage Cup.

It's a busy afternoon in the arena for NXT. The show is about to go on the road, so a large batch of episodes are being recorded for NXT's weekly airing. You're sitting in your office going over the road schedule for the next month. You've still got to come up with about 10 more house show cards before you're done.

A sharp knock sounds at the door making you look up from your laptop. "Come in." You chirp, glancing back down at the screen briefly.

"YN, my dear! I hope that I'm not interrupting." William Regal comes striding through the door with his usual refined swagger.

"Mr. Regal!" You greet your mentor with a smile. "Not at all! Please, come in." You gesture to the empty chair siting in front of your desk. "What can I do for you?" You ask him.

Regal shuts the door behind him and makes his way over to your desk. You watch him take a seat in your empty chair and smile at him.

"Of course." You nod. "I'm just making up plans for the house shows that we've got coming up." You explain and turn your laptop screen so Regal can see it.

"Oh I was simply reminiscing about my youth with Shawn and a few other old timers when Mr. Michael's informed me that you were working." Regal explains. "So I figured that I'd come by and see how you were fairing, my dear."

Regal leans forward in his chair and retrieves his reading glasses from the front pocket of his jacket. "May I" He asks you.

"Sure. Go ahead." You nod and push your laptop closer to him.

You lean back in your seat and observe Regal as he looks over your schedule and notes. It makes you feel like a kid again, carefully waiting for Regal to critique your latest attempt at paperwork and other stuff.

"Well?" You eagerly prompt your mentor after a few minutes.

"An excellent job, as always my dear." Regal smiles at you and pushes the laptop back your way. "I doubt that I could have done a better job myself."

You smile to yourself and turn your laptop back around. "Thank you, sir. And how is your son? He's scheduled for a Heritage Cup match against Noam Dar tonight, isn't he?" You ask.

"He is, yes." Regal nods. "Charlie's quite excited about it as well." He informs you. "I can't thank you enough for giving him the chance to challenge for it. Makes me prouder than you know."

"Oh well, your son is an excellent competitor, Regal. It wasn't a hard decision picking him for Noam's next challenger." You shrug.

You and Regal chat for a bit longer and he suggests a few more match idea's before taking his leave.

"Well, it was a delight talking with you, as always, my dear." Regal rises from his seat and holds out a hand for you to shake. "I hope that I was able to help take some of the pressure off of you to come up with some exciting house show match-ups." He adds as you shake his hand firmly.

"You were a big help, Regal. Thank you." You smile at him. "Tell Dempsey good luck for me if you see him before his match." You add.

Regal nods again and heads out of your office. The door clicks shut with a small thud and you sit back down to get back to work.

Around an hour or so later you finally finish up getting the house-show schedule made and decide to take a small break. You head out of the office and down to the backstage are to see how things are fairing with the multiple tapings going on.

You get backstage and chat with a few of the staff about how things are moving along. And by the sounds of it, everything is going smoothly so far.

"That's great. And what match is up next on the schedule?" You ask the staff member that you've been chatting with.

"That'd be Dempsey and Dar for the Heritage Cup, ma'am." The staffer answers you. "They should both be headed down to the curtain any moment." He adds and nods to the curtain entrance on the other side of the room.

You nod just as Noam enters the room from the hallway with the rest of Meta Four at his side. Dar spots you and walks over with a confident smile.

"Boss! I wasn't expecting to see you down here. Everything alright?" Noam asks you.

"No trouble, Noam." You assure him with a smile. "I'm just checking up on the show before I get back to doing paperwork is all." You explain. "Good luck out there, by the way."

Noam nods, clutching his beloved trophy to his chest. "Thank you." He smiles at you.

Noam heads over to the curtain as his entrance music hits and you watch him disappear through the curtain. Seconds later, you hear the familiar sound of Regal giving someone one of his coveted pep-talks. You turn around and find him talking with Charlie as the pair come into the room.

"And you know that I'll be proud of you either way, son." Regal clasps a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"I know, dad." Charlie nods.

You smile at the pair and keep your distance out of respect for the father-son bonding moment. That is until Regal spots you loitering nearby and beckons you over to them.

"Regal." You nod at the older man with a friendly smile. "Good to see you again, old man." You joke with him. "And, Charlie! Good luck out there with Noam." You turn to Dempsey with an encouraging smile.

"Thank you." Charlie matches your smile. "I hope that here in about half an hour you'll be handing me that trophy." His grins widens a bit as he winks at you slyly.

A laugh escapes your lips and you shake your head. "We'll just have to see who the better man is, I guess." You tease him right back.

Charlie's entrance music hits and he walks off through the curtain to join Noam in the ring. Regal steps over to your side and the two of you watch the match from the monitors set up backstage.

"You sure as hell taught him well, Regal." You comment on Dempsey's prowess in the ring.

Regal chuckles and nods. "Yes, well, I try." He muses. "You seem quite fond of Charlie, yes? He's told me that you've been graciously helping him make his way into the Heritage Cup contender conversation." He turns toward you.

"Well I wouldn't make anything of it." You shrug and scratch at your arm sheephishly. "You're the one that taught me to never pick favorites, Regal." You remind him.

"I believe that I taught you to never make it obvious that you've got favorites." Regal corrects you. "There's quite the difference between the two, wouldn't you say, my dear?"

You hang your head to hide a sheepish smile and nod. "I suppose so. My mistake, Regal." You shift your weight from one foot to the other.

While you're busy looking at the floor in shame the match out in the ring comes to an end. Your head snaps up and toward the monitor. Out in the ring, Charlie stumbles to his feet as the referee reaches over to raise his hand.

"Well well well, would you look at that." Regal smiles to himself. "It seems like my boy had it in him afterall." He muses.

"It appears so." You agree. "Please excuse me, Regal. But I do believe that I have a trophy to present to a new champion. You're welcome to join me, of course." You offer.

Regal shakes his head and steps away from you. "Go ahead. Let my boy have his moment." He insists. "There will be plenty of time for celebration later."

You nod and head out to the ring. You pass Noam and the rest of Meta Four on your way down the ramp and offer Noam a sypathetic smile. Vic hands you the trophy since it was sitting on the commentary table during the match and you bring it into the ring where Charlie is patiently waiting.

"Congradulations to our new Heritage Cup winner! Charlie Dempsey!" You shake hands with Dempsey before handing over the trophy.

Charlie takes his hard-earned prize and soaks in the cheers from the crowd for a moment. You step out of the ring and let him have his moment before Charlie joins you back on the floor and the two of you head backstage.

"Congradulations on the win, Charlie!" You set a hand on the back of Dempsey's shoulder with a smile. "I knew that you had it in you." You grin at him.

"I couldn't thank you enough for putting faith in me and backing me up to get me here." Charlie replies. "This is as much of a win for you as it is for me." He insists.

You laugh and wave your hand dismissvly. "Oh, all I did was point out the talent that you already had." You assure him. "You did all the hard work, Charlie."

The two of you get backstage and you let Regal talk with his son. While the pair are chatting and sharing hugs you check in with the backstage crew one more time. After you've made sure that things are still running smoothly you intend to head back to your office. But Regal stops you before you leave the backstage area.

"Oh, well I'm sure that our lovely friend YN would be happy to join you in my absense." Regal turns toward after looking at Charlie.

"Pardon?" You come to a stop in front of the pair.

Regal nods to his son before smiling at you eagerly. "I was just reluctantly informing Charlie that I'm going to have to decline his offer for dinner and drinks after the show." He explains. "I've got a prior engagment that I'm afriad I can't miss. Although, I don't suppose you're busy after NXT finishes up taping, are you, YN?" He asks you. "I'd hate to leave Charlie to celebrate such a big win by himseslf."

"Right." You nod, catching onto what Regal's trying to swing here. "No, I'm not busy after the show at all." You turn toward Charlie. "If you'd like to meet me outside my office after the show then I'd love to grab dinner, Charlie." You smile at him.

"Sounds excellent." Charlie agrees. "I guess that I'll see you after the show then, YN. Take care." He matches your smile before walking off back to the locker rooms.

You wait until Charlie is gone before you turn back to your mentor.

"You don't happen to be trying to set me up with your son, are you, Regal?" You ask him with a playful smile.

"I haven't a clue what you're talking about, my dear." Regal smiles right back at you. "Do have fun at dinner, though." He winks before walking off as well.

#wrestling #wwe x reader #wwe fandom #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fandom #wrestling fanfic #charlie dempsey #charlie dempsey x reader #nxt #nxt fanfiction #nxt fanfic #nxt x reader #no quarter catch crew #baby regal #syd's wrestling fics #wwe

[rawsmackdownnxtdivas]

NXT Heritage Cup Match:NXT 2/27/24

#alicia taylor #oro mensah #noam dar #meta-four #charlie dempsey #drew gulak #myles borne #damon kemp #no quarter catch crew #wwe #nxt

[regalityandcoffee]

I'm going to *car horn noises*

#regality rambles #charlie dempsey #no quarter catch crew #nxt #SPIT IN MY-*gets hit by a rock*

[hooks-martin]

CHARLIE

so fucking proud of him 🥺🫶

#charlie dempsey #no quarter catch crew #nxt #workhorses

[miru-has-thoughts]

They're talking about Bloodsport...

On live television

#oh we are so in a new era #charlie dempsey #no quarter catch crew #wwe #nxt #wwe nxt #gcw bloodsport #gcw

[the-hanged-lover]

WILLIAM FUCKING REGAL

#william regal #wwe nxt #nxt #charlie dempsey #no quarter catch crew #nxt roadblock

[ultradude13]

I've never seen a move like that before!

#video clip #tv show #wwe nxt #carlito #joaquin wilde #no quarter catch crew

[jpitha]

Vocal Mimicry and Ear Worms

Every time the drink machine finished, it played a little song.

It was pretty simple, less than 10 notes, but it was the same song, every time.

It wasn't even that it played the same song every time. It wasn't even that everyone on the ship - except the humans - got a drink from the machine.

The song was catchy.

Peg started it. She just found her self whistling the "drink finished" song one day. "beep beepita beep beep beep beepita beeeeeeep." She couldn't help it.

Then, Kelly picked it up. The song worked its way into her head too. She'd be working at her station and suddenly she'd be struck by an intense need to sing the song.

After about three cycles, every single human on the ship was singing it. Normally, this would be chalked up by the rest of the crew as "just another strange Human thing" but the problem was that it was the 'drink finished' song. Everyone onboard was conditioned to want to go get their drink when the song was done.

The humans could mimic is perfectly.

"beep beepita beep beep beep beepita beeeeeeep."

Captain Flowing River Rapid's feathers fluffed in irritation. Two people on the Command Deck got three quarters of the way out of their seats before they realized what they were doing and sat back down, sheepish. "Desmond! What have I said about mimicing the drink finished melody?"

Desmond ducked his head at the reproach. "Sorry Captain River, I couldn't help it. It's just so catchy."

Captain River clacked his beak. "It wouldn't be so bad if not for the fact that you can all mimic the sound so well."

Desmond turned and looked at the Captain. "What? We are? We're singing it, but it doesn't sound exactly like the drink machine."

The Captain pointed at Desmond accusingly. "Don't deny it! You're all singing the song at all times of the cycle! You know that everyone thinks a drink is ready when you do it. You sound exactly like the machine!"

One of the Sefigans who got partially up from their station nods quickly, their antenna bobbing. "Captain River is correct, Des. You all really sound a lot like the drink machine. How are you doing it?"

Desmond shrugged. "I mean, we heard the song, and it gets like, stuck in our heads. Singing it feels like one way to get it out. Plus, it's fun to sing Kel. Fun to make sounds."

Kel's wing covers clack. "Can you mimic other things?"

"I don't know Kel, I don't really think of myself as a mimic. There are others who can do it much better than me. Some humans made a whole career out of it."

"That sounds like a thing I human would do, yes. But what about your Des? Let's see...." Kel looks down at their station. "What about this?"

Kes runs a test for the collision alarm. It's a warbling rising and falling tone."

Des thinks for a second and sings - for him - a pretty close approximation.

Captain River gasps and leans back in his chair. "How do you do that?"

Desmond wails. "It wasn't even that good! I just heard the tones and repeated them."

Kelly entered the Command Deck just then. She was carrying a pad and her overalls looked stained. "Captain River, I've just come to report tha-"

"Kelly! Mimic the collision alarm"

"What? Um.." Kelly makes the same noise."

Now, everyone on the Command Desk gasps. Kelly is taken aback and looks at Desmond. "What's going on Des?"

Desmond sighs. "They say we're all mimics. It started with the drink machine."

"Oh that. I still can't get it out of my head! 'beep beepita beep beep beep beepita beeeeeeep.'"

Kes starts to rise from his seat again and catches himself, and sits back down swearing.

#humans are deathworlders #writing #sci fi writing #jpitha #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans and aliens #humans are space capybaras

[willowbelle]

Just Give In

new fic per request! ♡︎

❤︎ trafalgar law x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: established relationship, consensual somnophilia, begging, throat-fucking, slight degradation, praise, use of "good girl", sleepy sex, riding, cock-warming.

summary: law is an insomniac. law and reader have an established relationship & mutual agreement regarding somnophilia. reader sucks law off while he sleeps. law wakes up & sleepy sex ensues ♡︎

word count: ~3,000

tagging: @bby-deerling @risenwrites @strawheart-pirate @uchihabbynic @nina-ya @mandiemegatron @shamblespirate @eelnoise @maddddstuff

(only slightly proofread bc i need to go to sleep. ironic, right?)

Just Give In

A restful night’s sleep wasn’t a pleasure Law typcially found on his agenda. 

Sleeping for more than four hours at a time was almost too indulgent for him; a taste that was rare, forbidden, almost. 

He seldom found himself able to close his eyes long enough to feel fully rested, yet, he persisted, like he always did, working incessantly through the day, accompanied by nothing but the dark circles that tainted the skin beneath his eyes.

Despite the heaviness weighing upon his eyelids, sleep always eluded him like a distant desire; unrealistic, unattainable. His mind, always restless and relentless, simply refused to succumb to the peaceful embrace of sleep. He tries to rest, but to no avail, tossing and turning in the sheets with each gentle sway of the Polar Tang.

Today was different, though. 

Your crew had recently partaken in a particularly difficult battle, and to say that Law was exhausted was quite the understatement. He was drained; completely depleted of everything within him.

He had stretched his abilities to their utmost limits, and now, he lay before you in a state unlike any you've ever witnessed — utterly spent and motionless.

Bepo is attempting to set Law up against some pillows on his bed, but of course, he’s protesting, weakly shooing the bear away. 

“Enough, Bepo,” he rasps out, “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

“But Captainnn-” the mink whines, teetering back and forth from foot to foot, “You saved our lives. It’s the least I can do-” 

“Saving your asses isn’t forgein to me, Bepo,” Law sighs, pain evident in his tone. He leans his head back against the plush fabric of the pillows, “All of you,” his eyes open again, steel irises scanning between you and your crewmates as you stand anxiously against the walls of your captain’s quarters, “Out.” 

You knew better than to disobey Law, especially when he was in such a terrible state, so you swallowed your pride and followed your crewmates’ lead, letting out a heavy sigh before turning towards the door. 

“Wait,” Law’s voice prompts you to turn your head, your wide eyes meeting his half-lidded ones as he musters a weak smirk, “Not you.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After some more convincing from his captain, Bepo finally relinquished supervision over Law, slowly making his way towards the door, trading places with you as you took his previous seat on the edge of the bed. 

The polar bear takes a few more anxious glances over towards you two, “You’ve got him, right, y/n?” he persists. 

You smile softly to reassure your distressed crewmate, “I’ve got him, Bepo.”

He smiles in response, letting out a relieved sigh, apprehension aided by your confidence. 

———————————————————————————————

You wait until Bepo’s furry form disappears into the hallway before opening your mouth to speak, turning your head towards Law again.

“So, Law,” you begin, but as your eyes meet his condition, your voice catches in your throat, and the remainder of your sentence fades into a whisper.

He’s asleep. 

Your heart feels funny in your chest at the sight of him, but you can’t quite place the feeling. 

He’s stirring slightly, softly snoring, inked chest rising and falling with each breath. 

He looks beautiful. 

Even though the two have you had been dating for quite some time, you had never seen him asleep. 

Your boyfriend was an insomniac in every sense of the word, and every night, as you both retired to your shared bed, you inevitably drifted off to sleep before him. Occasionally, you'd awaken throughout the night, only to find him absent from your side. You'd grope through the darkness, waiting for your eyes to acclimate to the dimness, until you could locate him. More often than not, he'd be bent over his desk, engrossed in jotting notes in his notebook or poring over the pages of a medical textbook.

This sight was unfamiliar, to the extent that witnessing him in such a seemingly normal human state verged on feeling forbidden.

Your mind begins to race, but you don’t try to catch it. 

The two of you had engaged in somnophilia a few times throughout your relationship; you’d often awaken to the feeling of Law’s hot tongue lapping at your aching slit, slender fingers engulfed within your tight cunt. 

You were always on the receiving end, of course, but you often found yourself fantasizing about what it would be like to take on the role of the giver.

And so, as you gazed upon Law sleeping soundly, his previous words reverberated in your mind,

“I doubt you ever will, but if you happen to catch me asleep sometime, you’re welcome to indulge.”

You could vividly remember his expression and the tone of his voice when he said it—confident, smug, almost, as if he were utterly convinced you'd never get the opprotunity.

Law was always busy; always working, always thinking, always disturbed. 

He was pretty fickle when it came to sex, and you constantly remained unsure of what side of him you’d be encountering each time the two of you entered the bedroom. 

But here he was; sleeping, peaceful, undisturbed. 

And you just couldn’t fucking help yourself. 

You release a trembling, apprehensive breath before surrendering to your desires.

Your hand finds itself on his strong thigh, but he stirs a bit, making you jump slightly. 

However, to your contentment, he remains asleep, turning his head to the side, unconsciously giving you more access to his neck. 

You bite your bottom lip before slowly sliding your hand up his leg.

You admire him like he’s a work of art in a museum; taking a mental picture of every dip and curve of his muscles, every line of black ink that decorates his tan skin, every indent of his abs, each hair on his chin, you worship it all. 

And so, you persist, delicate hands continuing their silent work.

You slowly and carefully straddle his waist as your fingers begin to work at the buttons of his shirt. You peel the fabric from his body, your heart racing within your chest, its pounding reverberating in your ears, causing your head to feel flushed with heat.

Your hands slide up his toned abdomen, fingertips finding themselves tracing the intriquite lines of the ink adorning his skin. 

You can’t help but let out a shaky, quiet moan, obsessed with the way his muscular torso looked cradled between your thighs. 

In this moment, you are nothing but a devotee, tracing his form, limb by limb, each imperfection of his skin burning into your skull as if they were put there simply to be admired by you. His body was a masterpiece, one that you’d gladly study over and over again, obsessively, till you could recite his every feature in your head in perfect detail. 

You carefully lean forward to place gentle kisses and love bites along his chest, down his stomach, taking precautionary glances up to his face to ensure he was still asleep. 

His eyes are shut, but his breathing has changed slightly; it's more labored, now, coming out in quiet huffs as he slightly trembles beneath you. 

You continue your gentle pursuit, rubbing your hands up and down his sides as you kiss along his happy trail, giggling softly to yourself at how the coarse hairs tickle your lips.  Each touch is a prayer, each gaze a hymn, and you relish in the way the feeling of his warm skin seems to seep into your own. 

Your hands tremble as you work at the button and zipper of his jeans, fearful that the noise will awaken him. It doesn’t, though, and you find satisfaction in your accomplishment, impressed by your own skill.

Now for the difficult part: pulling his pants down. 

You cursed at Law in your head; although you had always found his love of skinny jeans sexy, you now found it rather…inconvenient. 

You anxiously bite at the tender flesh on your inner cheek as you loop your fingers around his waistband, taking a deep breath in before abandoning all caution and pulling his jeans down. 

He stirs, as expected, but doesn’t awaken, simply letting out a low groan and screwing his eyes shut tighter. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him in nothing but his underwear; to your surprise, he’s hard, and the realization makes your cheeks flush with heat. 

You lean down, warm breath meeting his crotch, peppering his clothed cock with gentle kisses. 

His head rolls back and his back arches a bit, an unconscious moan erupting from within his chest. The abrupt noise halts you in your steps, prompting a swift glance back at your sleeping boyfriend. You gaze at him in awe as he doesn’t awaken, just twitches beneath your touch.

You bite the waistband of his boxers, clenching the fabric between your teeth as you pull them down, finally freeing his twitching, needy cock. 

The sight makes you inhale sharply, breath caught in your throat as you take in the unfamiliar sight of Trafalgar Law fully exposed before you; naked, vulnerable. 

You inch forwards, closing your eyes before opening your mouth and sliding your hot tongue along his thick shaft. Your tongue leaves a stripe of glistening saliva in its wake, the substance lewdly decorating your boyfriend’s pulsing cock.  

“Mmmggf,” Law groans at this, and his hands ball into fists at his sides, gripping the sheets. 

Your feel your core tighten at the sound, heat flooding your veins and collecting in your aching sex. You persist, lust at the forefront of your brain, taking his weeping tip into your soft, warm mouth. You hum around his head, delighted at the feeling of him filling  your mouth. 

He winces, back arching off the mattress as his eyes screw shut tighter, unconsciously reaching down to grab at your hair. 

You circle your tongue around his tip a few times before slowly beginning to bob your head up and down, taking his shaft down your tight throat, captivated by the feeling of his thick vein pulsing against your tongue. 

“M-mmm!” Law whines weakly in his sleep, trembling beneath you, completely at mercy to you and your wicked mouth. 

You hollow your cheeks, sucking him in harder, moving your head up and down more passionately now, determined to make him erupt down your throat.

The unmistakable sounds of gagging and slobbering fill the room, and your cunt twitches at the lewdness of the situation, prompting you to squeeze your thighs together for any sort of stimulation. 

Suddenly, you feel the familiar sensation of fingers yanking on your strands, making you tilt your gaze upwards, your captain’s cock still eveloped within your mouth as you anxiously look up at him.  

Your eyes widen as they meet the state of him; he’s awake, eyes half-lidded and blown with lust as he gazes down at you. His face is red and flustered, dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead, aided by his sweat. His face looks unlike how you’d ever seen it before, and it feels like his stare is burning holes into your face. 

He looks entirely and utterly needy.

“Don’t. Fucking. Stop.” he groans breathlessly, teeth clenched, each word punctuated like a growl; desperate. 

But before you can even think about responding, he’s manuvered your hair into a ponytail within his grip before thrusting his hips upwards into your mouth, throat-fucking you mercilessly. 

“Nghh,” he groans, throwing his head back against the pillows as he continues to relentlessly thrust his hips, making you whimper and gag around his length. 

“You wanted it,” he groans, his voice tinged with a smug tone, “Now take it.” 

“M-mm!” you whimper around his shaft as he continues to abuse your throat, earning a low, guttural groan from within his chest, 

“Good girl, that’s it,” he praises, “Take that cock.” 

The grip he has on your strands is unwavering as he continues to fuck your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each pass, making you gag, tears spilling from your eyes. 

His body grows tense and you know he’s getting close, his thrusts becoming sloppy and unsynchronized. 

His pelvis continuously bumps against your face as he continues, the hair from his happy trail tickling your nose. 

“F-Fuckkk-” he rasps out, body shuddering beneath you as he unapologetically bursts down your throat, hot ropes of his semen tainting your esophagus and inner cheeks. 

You cough, pulling off him, tears spilling down your flushed cheeks. 

You gaze at up him, eyes teary and wide, fearful that he was angry at you for disturbing his sleep. 

He’s breathing heavily, tattooed chest rising and falling frantically. His face is flushed pink and sweaty, fucked-out. He lets out a shaky breath before speaking, 

“Come on, y/n,” he smirks, still attempting to catch his breath, “Don’t tell me you can’t finish what you started.” 

His persistence and brashness causes your core to tighten once more, heat rushing through your body, making your limbs tingle. 

His words command you like puppet stings, your obedience unwavering as you straddle him once again.

You take a moment to remove your clothes before seating your bare pussy against his throbbing, desperate cock. 

In a final attempt to tease him, you begin to rock your hips, grinding your leaking slit against his impressive length. 

“Enough,” he groans impatiently, “Show me what you really want, y/n.” 

And so, you surrender to your longing, allowing it to take control as you grab ahold of Law’s cock, positioning him at your entrance before slowly sinking down. 

You hiss at the sting, the sensation painful but not unfamiliar. The two of you moan in sync as you continue to lower yourself, the feeling of his big cock stuffing you full was almost too much for either of you. 

You want to tease him more; slow down, pull off, anything to give you some control back, but he’s desperate, and you’re no better. You instantaneously give in to your desires, sinking down all the way and leaning down to kiss him as his cock is now fully engulfed within you. His lips meet yours with such urgency and desperation it makes your head spin. He groans weakly into your mouth, “Come on, baby,” his voice is strained, a rare inflection that you knew was for you only, “Move for me-” 

You comply, giving in to his command and beginning your dirty work, slowly starting to rock your hips back and forth, delicious moans erupting from the mouth of the trembling man beneath you. 

“F-Fuck,” he slurs, voice raspy, “more,” he groans, grasping at your hips. 

You begin to bounce on his cock, grounding yourself by resting your hands on his strong chest. You let let your head roll back, becoming absorbed in the feeling of Law’s impressive cock sliding in and out of you, pulsing against your tight walls. 

“You’re so damn tight,” he groans through clenched teeth, “That pussy’s so fucking good to me.”

His praise only makes you work harder, grinding you hips back and forth to gain some friction against your aching clit as you continue to bounce up and down, your skillful hips and tight cunt earning more weary moans from him. 

He reaches up to grasp at your tits, molding them in his strong hands and pinching at your erect nipples, making you squeak.

“Mm-mm, Lawww-” you whine wearily, heat racing through your veins as your head begins to grow tingly. 

Your legs begin to tremble as you continue to ride him, and he notices you losing momentum. 

“Here, baby,” he chuckles softly in between groans, “I’ve got you.” 

Law grabs your hips and holds you up, opting to thrust into you from below, making you squeal at the new sensation. 

He’s still exhausted, of course, so his thrusts are slow and sleepy, but unforgiving nonetheless.

Your tight walls continue to restrict and twitch around his aching cock, and each time his tip lazily brushes against your cervix, you both feel yourselves coming undone. 

“Fuck," he rasps out, “Not gonna last long.” 

Law continues to weakly thrust into you, and the sounds of wet squelching and skin-hitting-skin fill the room. 

Your breaths are labored and hot as you kiss again, moaning wearily into one another’s mouths. 

You’re both close, desperately chasing your impending orgasms. 

“L-Law-” you cry out shakily into his mouth, a warm, tingling sensation enveloping your body as you cum, gushing around his cock as you collapse onto his chest. 

“Fuck, y/n,” he grits his teeth, mustering a few more weak thrusts and groaning loudly before finally spilling his hot seed into you.

 “Fuck, I love you.” he gazes into your eyes, cradling your head in his strong hand and kissing the top of it before letting his head fall back down to the pillows. 

He lets out one final sigh before giving in to his body’s needs, stiffening beneath you and closing his eyes, allowing sleep to take him once again. 

You offer a gentle smile and press a tender kiss to his cheek before closing your own eyes, your body tensing as it prepares itself for sleep. 

“I love you, too, Law,” you murmur softly, following your captain's lead and slowly drifting off to sleep. 

#trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law one shot #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law imagine #one piece imagine #one piece one shot #one piece #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #trafalgar law fanfiction #one piece fic #trafalgar law fic #trafalgar law headcanons #trafalgar law headcanon #law headcanons #one piece headcanons #law one piece #one piece law #trafalgar law one piece #trafalgar d water law #one piece fluff #Trafalgar law x reader #Law x reader #Trafalgar law imagine #Trafalgar law one shot #One piece imagine #One piece fanfiction

[emchant3d]

They say Captain Munson has a gift. That he’s blessed by a god’s touch.

His ship has survived every battle. His crew flourishes with bounty, with health and good fortune. He steers them unerringly through every storm, sailing directly into the gargantuan waves, into the lightning and rain, and comes out the other side pristine while other vessels would have been sunk, snapped and splintered on the ocean floor, crew turned to ghosts to haunt the waters.

They say he made a deal, sold his soul, sold his crew’s souls, will find his reckoning one day at the end of a sword or drowned in the sea he loves so much. They say he’s a devil of his own, that his eyes glow red and black and his teeth are sharp and fanged, nails clawed, that he slaughters innocents and bathes in their blood.

But the truth is much simpler. Captain Munson is no devil, he did not sell any souls, and he certainly isn’t blessed by any god.

Captain Munson fell in love.

He didn’t mean to. When the fishing nets are reeled in that fateful day he expects nothing more than a few meals, a couple pounds to send to the kitchens for Benny to work his magic with. He isn’t even on deck when the catch is brought in.

It’s Gareth’s frantic voice that draws him upwards, his shouting and knocking on his cabin door that has him strapping a sword to his hip before taking the stairs two at a time to see the threat.

He’s expecting a King’s ship. Maybe another pirate. 

He isn’t expecting a mer.

Pale, unconscious, bleeding, sprawled on the deck, plush and soft and gorgeous, tan torso tapering down into a huge, shimmering tail. He’s breathing but it’s shallow, weak, a shell on a necklace moving faintly with each hitch of his chest.

And the crown. A simple circlet, golden and shining, tangled in his chestnut hair, gems glinting from the locks.

Mers are mythical, believed to be stories by some and history by others, but Eddie grew up hearing the tales of them every night from his mother, and the evidence is right in front of them - how can they do anything but believe?

It takes three of them to move him below deck. Eddie grips him under his arms, Gareth supports his hips, and Jeff wrangles his tail. They take him to Eddie’s quarters, the only bed big enough to fit him.

He wakes in stages, delirious from pain, snapping teeth and swinging claws when he has the strength for it and slurring rambling words when he doesn’t, head lolling on the pillow, eyes rolling back. 

His injuries are strange - a band of dark bruising around his pretty throat, his back shredded, bites taken out of the dips of his sides and the meat of his tail. There’s sickness in him, but Joyce is patient. She patches him up, soothes the mer’s fever and stitches the wounds she can, bandages what she can’t, keeps it all clean, keeps it wet because apparently that’s what he needs - salt water, which makes Eddie cringe in sympathy, but only seems to ease the mer’s pain, not make it worse.

It’s a week before those pretty eyes blink open with genuine awareness in them, sharp and wary. Eddie’s taken to sitting at the mer’s side, feels a strange responsibility to him that he doesn’t want to look too closely at, and he glances up from his journal to find the other’s gaze locked on him.

“Where am I?” he croaks out, and Eddie smiles, snapping the journal shut.

“You’re aboard the Hellfire, sweetheart. Captain Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows in his seat, and it goes over about as well as he thought it would.

There’s a lot of threats and snarling and cursing, but Eddie simply leans back, out of the mer’s reach as he crowds himself into the corner of the mattress, back pressed to the wall and sheets tangled around his tail.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he tries to soothe, and the mer scoffs. Eddie can’t blame him for his caution, but he tells him the honest truth - where he was found, the state of him, how they’ve nursed him back to health.

The mer’s hand hovers over one of the nastier wounds at his side, covered in gauze, dampened with saltwater. When he cuts his eyes back to Eddie there’s a little less animosity in his gaze, and Eddie will take what he can get.

Eventually he pulls a name from that snarling mouth. Stephan. “Prince Stephan,” he begrudgingly admits once Eddie points out the crown that he’d gently worked free of his hair. 

And he’s a mer, but different.

“Siren, is what I believe your kind calls mine,” Stephan says, “half and half. Mer and human.” 

“Human,” Eddie muses, and Stephan confesses, warily, haltingly - he’s the King’s bastard son. Born to King Richard of the land and the Mer Queen of the sea.

“And how did the Prince of the Mer find his way into my net, hm?” Eddie asks, smiling, and Stephan rolls his eyes at him. 

He’s a runaway. King Richard had come looking for his son and with his mother’s blessing Stephan abandoned his title, his home, because the King would find him eventually if he stayed, and whatever dangers he might face in the open sea would be nothing compared to what the King might use his gifts for.

“Gifts?” Eddie asks, and Stephan smiles, his pointed teeth glinting.

It’s a clear day, not a cloud to be seen, no sign of rain or bad weather. And yet as Steve begins to hum softly, a shadow crosses overhead. 

It happens slowly. Stephan’s voice builds, a wordless little melody, something melancholy and soft, and the sky beyond the windows of the cabin darkens. Thunder rolls and in the distance, Eddie can see a crack of lightning.

The ship rocks as waves begin to form, the once-smooth water taking a turn. Eddie can hear the crew above deck begin to shout to one another, confusion building, growing more insistent as Stephan’s song grows, and Eddie’s stomach drops.

The siren’s voice is haunting, terrifying. Eddie’s frozen in place, meeting his eyes even as tears well in his own. He’s transfixed, can’t move, can’t speak, paralyzed with some ancient, instinctual knowing of danger, of death.

Eddie does not scare easy. But this is terror personified. This is the true threat that lives in the sea. Not the waves, not man, this. This creature who smiles at him with sharp teeth and a haunting voice, reaching towards Eddie with a clawed hand, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear in a touch that makes Eddie’s skin crawl and his heart skip and dread sink into his very bones.

He’s staring death in the face, and death is smiling.

Then Stephan quiets, and it’s over as quickly as it had begun. The sky clears in moments. The waters calm. The vessel’s heaving calms, and Eddie’s spine unlocks.

He stares at the being before him, amazed, before a slow, brilliant smile breaks over his face.

“Full of surprises, aren’t you, Prince Stephan?” he asks, and gets a smile in return.

“Call me Steve,” he tells him, and fondness begins to worm its way into Eddie’s chest.

“Then call me Eddie.” He sees Steve’s eyes flutter, and he tilts his head. “You’re tired,” he tells him, and gets a huff in response. “You’re safe here, Steve,” he tells him, and he knows he doesn’t trust him, not fully, not yet, but that’s okay. “Rest. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Steve watches him warily, but clearly the little display has worn him out. His hand finds that same wound on his side, cradling it carefully, back shifting like it hurts to sit up straight and stretch all that marred skin.

“Lay a hand on me, and I’ll eat you,” Steve warns, and Eddie snorts a laugh. 

“Whatever you say, highness,” and he tugs the sheets back into place over that large tail, and lets the mer get the rest he still clearly needs.

part 2 coming soon 💕 no tag lists, sorry!

#steddie #mermay #merman steve harrington #siren steve harrington #pirate eddie munson #stevexeddie #steve/eddie #mine

[n3on-graveston3s-calling]

The Hat Rule.

Characters: Portgas D. Ace, Buggy the Clown, Dracule Mihawk, Trafalgar Law [ uses they/them ], X-Drake / Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 2,422

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None

Author's Notes: I'm a sucker for the Hat Rule, sue me. Nothing but some subtle spice. Enjoy!

You would be lying if you said it hadn’t been thrilling to sneak up behind them and pluck the hat off their head. They were so attached to it, it was funny! Of course, sentimentality was one thing- but really, the way they had paused, reaching up to touch their head as if confused at the sudden loss had been far too comical for you to even consider not laughing at. But the moment they had turned, had called out your name-

You ran.

You had sprinted across the dock back towards safety, hat clutched in your hand as they followed after you. But you were faster- always had been quicker on your feet. You scurried up the gangplank, avoiding collisions with your fellow shipmates as you made your way below deck to your quarters. You thought you were safe, you really had! Taking a minute to catch your breath, you settled the hat atop your own head with a grin. 

Success! 

That is, until the door opened. You turned, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the owner of said hat, leaning against the door with an expression that lingered between amused and… Something else. Something darker. You suddenly realized you had cornered yourself in your haste to escape- and now, you had nowhere to run. 

──Portgas D. Ace [ 353 ]

Your heart hammered in your chest as Ace chuckled, arms crossed over his chest as you leaned back against the opposite wall. “You had your fun,” he spoke softly, holding a hand out to you. “Now gimme my hat back.”

“No.” You replied defiantly, instead putting the hat on your own head. You turned, studying your reflection in the mirror on the wall, tilting your head to and fro as a smile curved your lips. “I think it looks better on me, really,” you couldn’t help but tease.

“There’s a rule ‘bout wearin’ someone else’s hat, y/n.” Ace sighed, stepping in, closing the door behind himself- and locking it, something that had your breath faltering. A rule? What was he talking about? It was just a hat! Even so, he crossed the room with a few strides, settling behind you. His hands smoothed across your hips, his head dipping down to press chaste kisses along your throat. “You wear the hat, you ride the sailor,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, his gaze finding your own in the reflection. 

Hunger. That’s what that expression was; his beautiful brown eyes dark in the soft light of the room. Your heart stuttered in its beat as he kept your gaze locked with his own, lips pressing over where your carotid artery lay in your throat. “Oh,” you whispered back, blinking slowly as his hands wandered. Fingers plucked at the edge of your shirt, dragging it up slowly with his fingers as they trailed heated paths across your skin. His Devil Fruit ability- oh, how you loved that. 

“Whattya say, y/n?” He asked, biting at your shoulder gently, not enough to cause pain but certainly enough to draw a gasp out of your lips. You nodded mutely, transfixed by your reflections as he grinned wolfishly over your shoulder. “That’s my baby.” A damn near growl as he tugged your back against his front, subtle grinds of his hips giving you a clear image of just how much he wanted you. 

You were suddenly glad you decided to steal his silly little hat. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

──Buggy the Clown [ 464 ]

It had been a celebration. Another successful show, another successful tithe paid from the townsfolk. One of those rare times where your Captain was genuinely happy, laughing with his crew as the bonfire burned brightly on the beach. But you weren’t there- no, you were sitting on the throne in the center ring of the Big Top, orange tricorn settled atop your head as you waited. 

You didn’t have to wait for long.

“Y/n,” Buggy called out as he sauntered in, his gaze settling on your form sitting in his chair, wearing his hat. The sight had his breath faltering, had his mouth suddenly dry. You looked damn good sitting there, almost as good as he did. Your legs kicked up over the arm, your lips curved into a cheeky grin. His hat… His hat on your head. 

He approached slowly, the sounds of the celebration fading behind him as he reached the throne. “Look at you! All comfortable in my chair, wearing my hat.” He muttered, one hand grabbing your chin, forcing your head up and back to meet his gaze. The other settled on the top of the throne as he leaned his weight against it, hovering over you.

“Your hat?” You countered with faux confusion. You reached up, touching the tricorn. “I could’ve sworn this was my hat.”

“Brat.” Buggy hissed as you grinned. 

You leaned up, sitting upright as your legs shifted down from the arm of the couch. “Yeah? Am I?” You continued to taunt, watching as your lover’s gaze brightened with the game you had decided to play.

“Yaknow, there’s this funny little rule that comes with wearing someone else’s hat.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip. You leaned into the touch, gaze flickering down to his painted smile. 

“What is it?” You breathed as he shifted closer. When you’d stolen his hat, you’d let his hair down. Aquamarine tresses spilled over his shoulders, falling forward to cloak you, giving an odd form of privacy as his lips ghosted against your own.

“Wear the hat, ride the Captain.” Buggy murmured as he captured your lips in a kiss. Paint smeared against your skin as you reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair, drawing out a pleased hum from him as he pressed closer. 

You pulled back with a nip to his lip, watching the way he crumbled beneath you so easily. “Ride the Captain, eh?” The thought set a fire in you. You rose to your feet, swapping places with a hand against his chest, shoving him down into his throne. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck you here.”

“Shit,” he chuckled, hands settling on your waist as you took your place on his lap. “Keep the hat on.”

“Yes, Captain.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

──Dracule Mihawk [ 516 ]

You felt like royalty as you ran through the halls of the castle. Perhaps it was the romance novels you’d read over the years, but there was something particularly thrilling about running through corridor after corridor with the tricorn clutched to your chest. You found yourself in the library, chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you turned to face the doors. Any moment now, Dracule would walk in.

It was worth it. Grabbing his tricorn the moment he’d docked at the island, running as fast as your legs could carry you back to the castle. You worried your lip as you looked down at the black leather, fingers brushing against the stitching. After a moment’s hesitation, you raised the hat- and settled it atop your head.

The doors swung open. 

“Darling,” Mihawk drawled. Yoru wasn’t on his back; his coat had been discarded, no doubt left by the front entryway. He sighed, taking in the sight of you in the moment. Cheeks flushed, hat perched atop your head; you were bathed in the orange glow of the fireplace. The sun had already set behind you; no light spilled through the large windows. 

A piece of art, you were.

“I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Slow steps drew him closer, even as you took shorter steps backwards- until you stumbled, ending up on your rear on the rug before the fireplace. Mihawk chuckled as he stood over you, arms crossed over his chest.

You found your words at last, grinning up at your lover. “I dunno what you’re talking about.” Cheekily, you leaned back on your elbows as Dracule knelt, reaching out to cup your cheek gently. “All I have is this shirt… And this hat.”

“... That’s all?” His gaze flickered down to your legs- bare, he realized. When had you stripped your trousers? He was certain you had been wearing them when you met him at the dock. “There’s a certain tradition when you wear another’s hat.”

“Tell me about it.” You sighed as his hand smoothed along your calf, gently massaging the muscle. He moved slowly, crawling over your form as his hands left your leg and cheek, balancing his weight over you. He dipped his head, stealing a kiss from you that had your head swimming by the end of it. The ghost of a brush of his tongue against your lip before he parted; you leaned forward, chasing him. 

“Wear the hat,” he murmured as he shifted, arm curling around your waist. In a movement too quick to track, he’d rolled you both, settling you on his lap as he settled on the rug. His fingers gripped your thighs, dangerously high to rucking up your- no, that was certainly his- shirt. “Ride the pirate.”

“Oh,” you breathed, mind growing fuzzy with the lust that was beginning to course through your veins. You shift your hips slowly, feeling your lover respond in kind. A groan pulled free of you as your hands settle on his chest, fingers gripping at his shirt. “Oh, I think I like that one.”

“Good.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

──Trafalgar Law [ 450 ]

It was hard to hide in a submarine. This was your first- no, second- mistake. Taking your Captain’s hat was the first mistake. Hiding in the submarine was the second. And the third? Deciding to add insult to injury by hiding in their own quarters. Was it the brightest of ideas? No. But Shachi wasn’t going to let you get out of the bet without consequences, and like hell you were going to cough up five hundred berries. 

So, you stole Law’s hat. And then had run for your damn life. 

You could hear the heavy footsteps of their boots as they approached. You panicked- and tugged the white hat on as the door opened, revealing the frustrated face of Law. They paused, brow furrowing at the sight of you standing in the middle of their quarters. “The boiler room would have been a better hiding place,” they taunted sarcastically, closing the door behind themself before leaning back against it. 

“I uh, I panicked?” You shrugged, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. You reached up, patting the hat on your head. “I get why you wear it. ‘S comfy.”

“It looks good on you.” They admitted softly, pushing off the door to cross the room, settling before you. Their hand raised, brushing a strand of hair back behind your ear. “Almost as good as it looks on me,” they finished, lips curving into that signature cocky grin that had you stomach twisting. 

You reached out, settling your hands on their chest, “There’s this lil’ thing,” words barely above a whisper; they had to focus on you to really hear. “This lil’ rule I remember learnin’ about.”

“And what would that be?” They asked just as softly, hands settling on your hips, drawing you closer, pressing your form against their own. Their hands squeezed slowly, the pressure enough to draw a pleased sigh from you.

You leaned in, lips brushing against their ear. “If I wear my Captain’s hat- I have to ride them.” A nip against the shell of their ear had a shudder dancing across them. You could have sworn a soft ‘fuck’ had slipped free from them. “Is that right?”

They pulled back, hand coming up to grip your jaw. A mischievous light had settled in their gaze as they studied you. You weren’t sorry; not a single speck of sympathy lingered in your expression, in your words, in your teasing. “You are, y/n-ya.” They rasped as they leaned in, stealing a kiss. Their teeth grazed your lip as they guided you backwards, until the back of your knees hit the bed. You sank slowly, but they didn’t part- not until you pulled back, panting.

“Captain-”

“Keep it on.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

──X Drake [ 399 ]

You had managed to stumble into your quarters on the Liberal Hind, only to realize that oh- well, shit. That’s a mistake. You curse yourself softly as you try to figure out how to get out of this mess. It had been a silly idea. You hadn’t seen your Captain laugh in a while- and thought that hey, stealing the hat would be funny!

Apparently not, given the yell that had come from him as you sprinted away. 

Your heart skipped more than one beat as the door to your quarters swung open, revealing the tall form of your Captain, X-Drake. You swallowed roughly around nothing as he studied you, brow furrowed. He ran a hand through his hair with a huff, stepping in and closing the door behind himself. 

Slowly, you raised the hat- and placed it on your own head.

Worth it, you thought to yourself as your lover’s eyes widened in shock as he turned around once more. “Missing something?” You teased, arms crossing over your chest as he studied you.

“That’s my hat.” He stated simply, taking a step forward. “Why did you take it?”

“Maybe I want it.” You shrugged, watching the way his eye twitched at the blatant insubordination you showed. Former Marines, always so strict. You worried your cheek as you glanced away. “I think it looks good, don’t you?”

“It…” He faltered, drawing in a slow breath. “It does look good, yes.” He crossed over to you, reaching out a hand to grasp the hat- only to pause. You were at port. The crew was working on supply runs. Alone on the ship. His hand lowered to tilt your chin up gently, his demeanor shifting as he tilted your head to the left- and then the right. “It suits you well,” he murmured, voice damn near molten gold with the way it poured over you. 

You shuddered, gaze rising to meet his own. “What’s that old saying… Wear the hat, ride the Captain?”

His jaw clenched; the hand on your chin flexed. Got him. “You’re nothing but trouble,” he groaned as his hands smoothed down your sides, hooking in the waistband of your trousers, tugging you closer to himself. “You need to be disciplined. Stealing from your captain…”

“Then do it,” you whispered, leaning in to ghost a kiss along his jaw. “After all, I did steal.”

“Turn around.”

“Yes, sir.”

#portgas d ace #buggy the clown #dracule mihawk #trafalgar d water law #x drake #Trafalgar law #one piece x gn reader #portgas d ace x reader #buggy the clown x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #x drake x reader #one piece smut #maybe if y'all like this enough they'll get their own full smuts who knows....... #unholy scripture [ n s f w ] #x reader

[rawsmackdownnxtdivas]

The Family tells No Quarter Catch Crew they need to pay up for asking them to 'take out the trash':NXT 4/16/24

#adriana rizzo #tony d'angelo #channing stacks lorenzo #luca crusifino #the family #charlie dempsey #damon kemp #no quarter catch crew #wwe #nxt

[regalityandcoffee]

Alright we need to address The Drew Gulak Situation.

Every single account of assault or harassment needs to be taken seriously. Every single one. Even from Rhonda..

But...look. I don't care. You don't care. No one cares. We all know the only reason she brought up this bizarre incident FROM SIX YEARS AGO THAT DREW ALREADY APOLOGIZED FOR is to sell her shitty book dunking on wwe.

She's only doing it to make herself look like she cared about the well being of the women's division and that she was a locker room leader even though half of them hate her for very valid reasons.

This situation was not worth taking Drew Gulak off tv for. I respect wwe for taking an account of possible harassment seriously (for once) but like...

Be fucking for real.

#regality rambles #drew gulak #wwe #nxt #no quarter catch crew

[illusioninfnty]

day 25 ; humiliation

↠ vinsmoke sanji x reader

fandom: one piece word count: 1.8k warnings: nsfw 18+, pervy!Sanji, sub!Sanji, panty stealing, panty sniffing, pussy sniffing (?), degradation, masturbation, cock kicking, cum eating

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

Joining the Strawhat crew wasn’t something that you ever thought would be in your future, but when Luffy rolled up with all of his joyfulness and sincerity, you knew that it was the right decision for you.

And it was.

Until a certain cook joined your crew soon after you.

Sanji, in his defense, wasn’t all that bad. His food was the best you’ve ever had, and he was a great fighter whenever you guys needed helping out with whoever Luffy pissed off that week.

But that was when he wasn’t being a complete weirdo around you.

It wasn’t a secret that Sanji loved women, maybe a little too much. But lately his affections have been focused on you. And although Nami was grateful for it, smirking across the deck and catching your eye whenever Sanji approached you (as subtle as he thought he was being, it was quite obvious what his intentions were) it pissed you off to no end.

Lately, you’ve been noticing that more and more of your panties have been going missing. You were left with only a spare few, and you know that this amount of your underwear (and just your underwear) going missing was not a mere coincidence or laundry getting lost.

There was only one person on this goddamn ship that would be stupid—and horny—enough to steal so many of them without you noticing.

You knew exactly when he would go in and do it too; your routine never changed much from day to day. After you had dinner, you would go train for a couple of hours with Nami. You always felt like you were lagging behind everyone else when there were pirates or marines you needed to fight, and you wanted to make sure you weren’t dragging anyone else down with you.

Those training sessions left the women’s quarters completely free, and long enough for a certain someone to come in and take what he pleased.

You suck on your teeth as you come up with a plan to catch him in the act.

He wasn’t getting away with it this time. And you wanted your goddamn underwear back, too.

~

Sanji knew what he was doing was horrible, immoral, and very much unbecoming of a man like himself, but he just couldn't help it.

You always seemed to avoid Sanji compared to everyone else on the crew. The only opportunities he had to interact with you was when he was serving you food, or saving you in battle. Even then, you barely afforded him a glance.

The few moments that you acknowledged his presence were absolute blessings. He didn’t even care that most often you were glaring at him or sneering in his direction. In fact, he almost liked that better. His cock certainly did, with the way it stirred in his pants every time he saw you looking at him with disgust coating your features, and he had to conceal a boner whenever your hand would accidentally brush up against him.

His only relief came in the form of your panties. He had stumbled upon a pair when he was up early, preparing breakfast. It must have slipped from the rest of your laundry and you forgot about it. It was a thin pair, purple and lacy.

Sanji couldn’t control the way his body heated up just from seeing the pair. He made sure that no one was around, and picked up the pair. It was wrinkled, still dirty. You must’ve never even washed it yet.

Without thinking Sanji lifted the pair to his nose and took one long sniff. He had to bite his lip to contain his moan, and his cock sprang to life in his pants. He ran to the bathroom with your underwear in his hand, and jacked himself off to the smell of your pussy.

Now, Sanji has a routine. He knows exactly when you and Nami are out of the room, and during that time he’ll go in there, pick a new pair of panties, and jack off as he sticks his face in it. It was a foolproof plan, he thought, since you hadn’t caught him yet.

Today was no different. He makes sure no one else is around to see him, and slips in the women’s quarters. Making a beeline straight for where you keep your dirty laundry, he pulls out another pair. He hunkers down in the corner of your room, near your bed, and releases his cock from its constraints as he strokes himself off.

But then a door slams.

Sanji jumps up, hiding the panties behind his back. You’re never back this early, and despite the utter fear that rushes through his veins he can’t help but notice the way his cock throbs at the thought of being caught in the act by you.

“What are you doing?” You phrase it more like a statement than a question, anger clear in your tone.

Sanji blushes and his eyes widen. “N-nothing!” He fails to hide the amusement in his tone, and he knows you notice it too with the way your brow furrows and your eyes squint at him. 

You stomp on over to him, and he can see the glint of realization in your eyes when you spot the panties that he stole.

“It’s not what it—!” he’s interrupted by a kick in the gut from you. His stomach lurches from the force of it, but his cock stirs with aching need.

“Fucking pervert,” you growl out. “Stealing all my fucking underwear. I’ve got none left now!” You let out a frustrated groan and plop down onto your bed, crossing your arms as you glare down at him.

Despite how erect it is, Sanji attempts to tuck his cock back into his pants, partly in shame. He’s stopped by your foot pressing down on his hand. He looks up at you, quizzically, yet in a pleading manner.

“I’m not letting you get away with this,” you start. “If you’re that desperate to jerk off to me, then I want you to do it here.” Sanji can’t believe the words that leave your lips. His erection throbs and precum leaks from the lip, and he has to squeeze the base to keep himself from cumming at that very moment.

He gulps, tugging ever-so-lightly on his cock as he stares up at you. “In front of you?” he asks cautiously, desperately looking for your confirmation.

His answer comes in the form of a roll of your eyes, a snort and curt nod.

He doesn’t need anything else as he begins to stroke himself, hand slick from the wetness of his precum leaking out the tip. He hisses as he thumbs the head, squeezing the base so as to not cum so early in front of you and embarrass himself further.

Sanji strokes himself faster as he glances up at you and your disinterested face. It causes him to let out a shaky sigh, and rut even more intensely into his closed palm.

“Since you want to sniff me so badly,” you start to shimmy out of your bottoms, and Sanji thanks whatever god exists that he was holding onto his cock because he would have creamed himself right then and there.

You throw your shorts and underwear to the side and he has to do everything in his power not to pick them up from the ground. You spread your legs out in front of him, and Sanji just knows that he's drooling.

“You can sniff the real deal instead. Since I’m so nice.”

Sanji whines lowly in disappoint in not being able to fuck you, and of course, your sharp ears catch onto it.

“What, you thought that I would ever let you fuck me with that nub you call a cock? Yeah fucking right.”

You sit in front of him with your arms crossed, evaluating him. Heat rises to his face under the intensity of the stare. Even though you could give two shits about him, Sanji was just happy that your full attention was on him for the first time since he joined the crew.

“Th-thank you for letting me sniff you,” Sanji moans, and he desperately crawls closer to you, one hand still pumping his cock.

When he reaches your bare pussy, a strangled cry leaves his throat as he takes a big whiff. Your scent is just like the one he’s used to from your panties, only a hundred times stronger. His cock is sensitive from the force of his strokes, and unspilled tears form in his eyes from the different areas of stimulation.

One of your feet comes up to kick him gently in his cock, and he arches himself into your touch despite the pain. “Look at you. So pathetic,” you coo mockingly, laughing cruelly at the way Sanji reaches to smell your pussy to get himself off. “Aren’t you?” you ask him, albeit very forcefully.

Sanji gulps and nods. “I-I am,” he stutters out. “I’m pathetic.” His hand picks up speed, his orgasm so close as you spit curses at him and talk about him like he's just an ugly speck of dirt on the ground.

His moans and whimpers become louder and louder as he fucks into his own hand, bury ing his face as close to your pussy as you allow. The last straw comes when you pull on his hair, digging your fingers through the tresses.

“Such a fucking sorry excuse for a man,” is all you need to say and Sanji explodes, a mess of whines as cum spurts out of his cock in jets. It’s all over his body, the floor, your foot, and even the side of your bed.

He doesn’t open his eyes until his orgasm fully washes over him, and he pants rapidly, chest heaving up and down.

You barely react to it, just sneer at him. “You got your spunk all over me, you filthy mutt.” You shake your foot in disgust, but Sanji’s cum is too thick, it stays attached to where it landed.

Instead, you hold out your foot to him. “Clean it up,” you command. “With your tongue.”

“Of course, madam,” Sanji utters as he obediently dives in. He licks and sucks wherever he needs to, and eats his own cum without you even needing to tell him.

He even bends down to the floor, licking at the wooden surface where his cum landed. The hum of approval from your lips as he cleans up his mess has his cock stirring back to life.

When you’re fully cleaned up, you put your skirt back on and go back to ignoring Sanji, as if this whole encounter never happened.

“Can we do this again, madam?” he asks hesitantly.

You don’t even turn to look at him. “No. Now give me back my panties.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #one piece x reader #one piece smut #sanji smut #vinsmoke sanji smut #one piece live action #one piece live action x reader #opla sanji smut #opla sanji x reader

[bby-deerling]

Your Headcannons and fics are amazing, I love reading them so much. I’m wondering if you could do a HC of them walking in on YOU Naked for Zoro, Law, Ace, Luffy, and Kid? Thx!

YES let's gooo! i only did some of these characters, i hope that's okay! might do a pt. 2 in the future :)

them walking in on you naked (nsfw)

ft. luffy, zoro, law

masterlist

cw: suggestive content, luffy is oblivious and weird, zoro is awkward, law is also awkward

tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @sanjisprincesswifey

luffy

when luffy catches you in the bathroom, not quite fully dressed, he doesn't really see what the big deal is; in fact, he treats it just as if he had walked in on usopp or zoro, and acts accordingly.

this includes stretching his arms out to playfully tweak your nipple.

"luffy, what's wrong with you!" you squeal, covering up your chest with your towel defensively as he laughs.

"usopp always complains when i do it to him too!" he giggles, a wide grin on his face as he stares at you with his signature wide-eyed stare.

"well you can't do that to girls!" you snap, crossing your arms as you glare at him.

"how come? did it hurt or something?" he asks curiously, tilting his head and letting his head stretch just enough for the angle to become slightly unnerving.

face flushed, you begin to stammer. "no! it's just—it's sensitive, okay?" you admit, averting your eyes from his.

luffy erupts into laughter once more, turning into a snickering mess as he responds to your confession. "that kinda thing really turns you on? you're nuts y'know that?" he says, amused as his arms stretch out once more and he tries to repeat the action, this time with the intention of riling you up.

after all, he might as well get dirty before his shower rather than after.

zoro

zoro knows he shouldn't stare when he walks into the girl's quarters to come grab you for a sparring session, but he just can't help himself; he feels filthy, like that stupid moron cook as his eyes trace along your curves, but he's now been there too long that calling attention to himself or turning and leaving would both somehow make things more awkward.

the squeak you let out when you pull your shirt over your head, turn around, and realize zoro is in the room with you is downright adorable, both of your faces burning bright red with embarrassment. trying to diffuse the situation, the swordsman decides the best way forward was to change the subject and hope that the weirdness would melt away gradually. "hurry up. we're losing daylight." he spits out roughly, cringing at the way his voice cracks a bit as he speaks. silently agreeing to leave this unaddressed, you nod and follow him to the observation tower, color still deeply embedded in your cheeks.

for the first time in a while, you get the upper hand when training with him; you don't win, but you land a bunch of blows that he was incapable of defending himself from, his mind still stuck on the soft, plump flesh of your ass and the curve of your back.

law

he really should have knocked.

law should have known better than to just walk into your room, intending on asking if you were ready to head out to the local bar with the rest of the crew; admittedly, with you and ikkaku being the only girls on the ship, he sometimes forgets to give small little things like that extra thought and consideration. if it was ikkaku, he could've handled a yelp of surprise followed by her making fun of him for the next week or so, but with you he's reeling, apologizing awkwardly as he turns around and waits for you to pull your dress over your head.

"sorry about that, captain. i should've yelled out that i was getting changed. i heard the doorknob and froze up." you say sheepishly, unable to make eye contact with him.

he's equally unable to meet your gaze, the image of your bare chest burned into both his retinas and the back of his mind. "don't worry about it; it was my fault. i was just coming to get you, we're all heading out for the night." he says, swallowing hard as your lips ease into a soft smile.

"i'm ready! do i look alright?" you ask, smoothing out your sundress as you take one last look at the state of your hair. law gives you a terse nod and motions for you to grab your purse and follow him, which you do without complaint.

he's wholly unable to express it verbally, but the thinks you look gorgeous with and without the dress.

#one piece x reader #law x reader #zoro x reader #luffy x reader #trafalgar law x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #luffy x you #law x you #zoro x you #law x y/n #luffy x y/n #zoro x y/n #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #one piece headcanons #one piece smut