#to possibly getting into law? like i like law but i never really thought too much about it as an actual option until p5. so yeah.
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LAW X READER
P.s. ok, so I wrote this within the span of a day, so if there's any mistakes, I apologize. As I mentioned in the first part, this loosely goes along with the actual chronological events of the Wano season of One Piece. If I missed any important details, I'm sorry. I'll probably do one or two more parts. The last part will probably take a while because I'm still watching Wano.
CW: Smut, Oral sex (reader recieving), yes we get cockblocked yet again my dudes.
Cockblocked in Wano Pt.3
You followed after Law once he walked out due to his fight with Shinobu. You knew he and his crew never ratted the Samurai out. To be completely honest, you were just as mad as Law, which seemed impossible considered the sour look he had.
How could Shinobu have accused the Heart Pirates of such betrayal? How could she say anything bad about them when they had Bepo? You would've killed for Bepo. He was a whole reason on his own for why you could no longer stand there and listen to her accusations.
As you were lost in your thoughts, you were suddenly brought back to real time as you accidentally walked into Law's back. Somehow you were at the Polar Tang.
"If you'd rather go back and be with your crew, I completely understand," Law said carefully.
"Oh, i-its fine. I don't think I could handle being near Shinobu anyway, not after that. Now's not the time to be pointing fingers,"
"I completely agree y/n. I'm not stranger to being accused of being the bad guy, I'm a pirate after all. Oh well," Law said with a hint of appreciation in his voice. He could tell you were on his side. Always loyal and kind.
You followed Law as he entered the submarine. It was quiet. Perhaps too quiet. But how could you possibly know? This was your first time in the Heart Pirates home base.
Law walked towards one door way and then turned to look at you.
"Stay here for a moment,"
"Okay,"
Law looked around the shared quarters belonging to his crew. He saw a few faces and noticed they were all sleeping. No hints of danger.
Law exhaled a sigh of relief as he turned back to fetch you.
"It seems everyone's getting some rest, follow me,".
And you did just that.
Not sure where he was leading you, you felt yourself get nervous with anticipation. You knew you could trust him, that's not what worried you. What worried you was the idea of being completely alone with Law. No interruptions. No more having to worry about being walked in on like this morning. However, you two had already gotten into some fun once already. Maybe it could happen again. Your heart fluttered at the thought.
"These are my quarters,"
"O-oh?"
"Maybe we should try to get some rest too. I wasn't expecting to be woken up so suddenly this morning,'
"Yeah, sorry about that,"
"No need to apologize. Hell, I should be thanking you if anything,"
"What, why?"
"I can't tell you the last time I slept for hours like that without waking up 3-4 times from nightmares. It was strange, but it was really nice. And I think its because of you,".
He opened the door to his bedroom, smiling as he did. You felt yourself blush at his kind words.
You took a good look around his room. It was well kept and clean. There was a desk next to a bookcase in one corner, filled to the brim with folders, books, and various documents. Everything from medical books to comics. On the opposite side of his room was a bed. You were surprised to see how big it was. You were expecting something smaller due to Laws lanky, skinny figure, but it made sense. His legs are so long and he must toss and turn a lot if he has trouble sleeping, must need room to sprawl out.
"Mind helping me sleep again?" Law asked without looking at you, he was blushing slightly.
"Sure!"
You felt yourself flush slightly, you felt like you sounded too eager to cuddle with the black cat-like man.
But he didn't acknowledge it. He put Kikoku against the wall and his hat on his desk before making his way to the bed. He watched you make your way towards him and generously held the blanket up for you to snuggle next to him. You prompted yourself up slightly as you laid down, pushing Laws shoulders down and pulling him in front of you.
Before he could ask what you were doing, you answered his thoughts.
"Lay your head on my chest,".
This caused Law to glance down at your breasts as he gulped audibly. How cute, you thought, as you saw him get flustered. As you watched his expression, you felt some boldness due to the sight of how weak your body made him. You giggled and before he could look back up to your eyes, you grabbed the back of his scalp and pushed his face down into your breasts. You heard him gasp into your chest and began giggling more.
As you did, not paying much attention to the man suffocating into you, Law slowly lifted his gaze to your face as he gently bit your displayed cleavage.
"Ouch, what was that for?" you asked, giggling calming down.
"Clearly you're not tired enough for a nap, maybe I should help tire you out," he smirked, and dove back down to suck on your exposed skin. Your giggling was replaced by sucking in your breath as you felt his lips on you. Law began trailing down to your right nipple, dragging his tounge towards it as he pulled your his kimono to the side, opening your body to him more.
He gently sucked on your nipple, and brought his right hand over your unattended tit.
You let out a shaky low moan. Not even loud enough to be considered a whisper.
"L-Law? W-what are you aah~, d-doing?"
He let out a low chuckle, almost growling as he spoke.
"Following through on my promise, I meant what I said,".
He winked at you before diving back down on you, slowly kissing his way lower and lower until he was completely covered by the blanket. Conventially, your legs were already spread for him to hold his body in between. He stopped his trail of kisses and pressed his open mouth to your left hip, sucking in your flesh in between his teeth as he bites you. The bite is gentle at first, but it becomes stronger, earning him a gasp from you. He chuckles again as he makes his way lower. Slowly he places wet open mouth kisses on your inner thighs.
"L-Law!" you whimper, desperately needing to feel him on your core.
He began biting at your thighs, but suddenly stopped.
"Law?" you asked, curious as to why he pulled away.
Suddenly the blanket was gone, and Law had a hungry, devilish smirk on his face.
"I want you to watch me turn you into a mess," he spoke calmly.
Before you could respond, he started devouring you. Pulling moans out of you as your head falls back.
He started sucking lightly on your clit, just enough to make you crave more of him. As you bucked your hips to encourage him, he didnt seem to get the memo.
Letting out a groan of frustration for not getting what you wanted, you looked down at the hungry man between your thighs. You were met with a gaze that seemed to have already been staring at you.
Law smirked. "Bout time you looked at me. Watch me and I'll give you what you need," he said as he began to pick up the pace.
It was exactly the kind of pace and pressure you needed. You started to feel the coil in you getting closer and closer to snapping. Then he added 2 of his beautiful fingers into your entrance making his way to your sweet spot as he lapped and sucked on your clit. It didn't take much after that to make your vision go white as you rode out your orgasm.
After you came back down to reality, you panted as you looked back down at Law. He was licking his fingers, swallowing down your essence. If he didn't give off black cat energy before, he definitely resembled the actual thing with how he licked his hand. It was cute.
"Thank you, that felt amazing,"
"Too soon to thank me, sweetness. I've got more in store for you,"
"Oh really~. Like what, exactly?"
Law slowly started crawling over you, hovering above you.
"I was thinking about fucking you until you went dumb on my dick-"
*Bang Bang Bang*
"CAPTAIN!? IS THAT YOU!? ARE YOU BACK!?" a female voice called from behind the locked door.
Not again. What happened this time?
"Dammit," Law sighed, he sounded desperate as he pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes.
He lifted his head back, raising an eyebrow.
"Do I have time to-...get prepared?"
"CAPTAIN WHAT DO YOU MEAN!? THIS IS URGENT! SHACHI, PENGUIN, AND BEPO WERE CAPTURED!"
"Why can't anyone stay out of trouble," he began. Though his words sounded harsh, you could hear the sloght tremble of worry they carried.
"Coming!" he yelled at the voice behind the door.
You heard some footsteps shuffle away from the door.
"Not in the way I'd like to...," Law sighed with furrowed brows. All you could do was giggle.
"Come on, we need to go find your crewmates,"
"Not we, I got it. It's not your responsibility. Oh, and two more things-"
"What?" you couldn't help sounding slightly dissapointed to be away from him.
Sensing your disapproving tone, he hoped that what he was about to say would make you cheer up.
"-First thing, don't tell the Straw Hats about my crew being captured. I'm going to get them back,".
You understood why he didn't want Luffy to know. You knew Luffy would cause more trouble breaking down walls to help Law rescue his crew.
"Ok, what's the second thing you wanted to say?"
"When I get back, I'm going to fuck you so good, you'll want to join my crew instead," he smirked at you. You went completely red. You were so hot and bothered it looked like steam was blowing out of your ears.
Law giggled and got up to reposition his kimono. He started making his way to the door, then he looked back at you fondly.
"Wait for me, sweetness,"
"I-i will,"
And with that, his mission began.
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one day i will finally get into ace attorney
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#I REALLY WANT TO. FOR A WHILE NOW. years even.#yeah uh with the holidays sale for 2022 i was really considering getting one of the games (or was it a collection...) but i ended up not#doing so because i'd properly prefer to play it on another platform? but also. i dunno. hmm.#one day... i will finally get into ace attorney.....#i think i might get pushed to actually pursue law if i do get into that lmfao similarly to how akechi being a detective made me more keen#to possibly getting into law? like i like law but i never really thought too much about it as an actual option until p5. so yeah.
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HONNE, TATAMAE & THE OTHER ONE
male reader x shin yuna
9k words
Yuna shuffles into your office with the same sneaky smile, the same easy slouch, and she settles into one of the chairs across the table. There is, apparently, more to talk about.
It's a matter of image, of perception, is what she knows.
You know every good lie starts with the truth.
So you swallow. You pause. Some other part of you understands Yuna can't ignore who she really is, and you’re not sure you can either.
-
Look - Shin Yuna is the kind of woman that turns heads, even with the best of intentions. A long, lithe silhouette; an easy, rosy sort of youthfulness clinging to the swell of her cheekbones, the curve of her waist. Take a dress that's cut to show a little thigh, or a hairstyle pushed back on one side - earrings, or heels, or just the subtle swipe of red over her lip - it doesn't take much for men (or anyone else) to figure that out. A girl who, more times than not, really ought to have a boy's hand planted on her ass, in possession.
So the opportunity to capture such a form perfected - all toned and graceful and flush for curves, her legs never seeming to end, the slithering fit of the dresses - these were the things they wanted. Package it, put a logo on it - better yet, a ribbon or a bow - and ship it straight to the consumer.
Somebody everyone wants, somebody no one can ever have.
“So,” Yuna asks from the other side of your desk, lips slanting halfway coy. “Are you going to treat me like an adult?"
Her fingers play idly with the hem of her skirt, and she lets a long, slender leg slowly slide out from beneath her.
“In what way,” you answer, half paying attention.
"The photos." She doesn't have the slightest qualms about lifting it higher. The soft creak of leather, and a deepening smile. "Am I not allowed to be a little racy?"
"That's certainly... one way of looking at it."
You glance away from where her stockings wrap around the soft curve of her thighs to flip back through the photos in your lap, one after the other, each a little different from the last. The beach, the sun, a flimsy white slip of a bikini top that hides exactly nothing, her muscles wet and glistening and perfect. Beyond suggestive, it's considerably inappropriate.
But then to a lot of people, Yuna is a lot of things.
She’s more clever than anyone gives her credit for. And she’s fucking gorgeous, sure. That’s definitely not up for debate, but god is she young - she's barely twenty. And here’s some rather uninteresting food for thought: you couldn't even technically take her for a drink without faking an ID or breaking some law or another, like a real one. So go ahead, chew that down. Girls her age are typically studying, or working a retail job and getting wasted on the weekends. And they aren't typically making six, seven figures turning their head to the camera and asking how much more skin?
You have some thoughts.
Prudently, you’re her publicist, and it’s your job to make sure that the public gets a good look at her and sees exactly what you want them to see. It's unfair. She wields sex like a weapon. She's got the face, the body; it's an easy sell, commodified and commercialized down to the finest detail, the softest curve, the slightest arch of her brow. The idea's to not let anyone look too long, should they catch something you haven't approved yet, or the fact that she's quite possibly a real person with a real life and real feelings, which could easily fuck up her brand, so unfortunately, that's a bit of a no-go.
Sign of the times maybe, no ethical consumption under another something, yadda yadda - it's a shitty business, really, and the whole thing usually leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
(And just to be upfront, as an important disclosure: you are fucking her brains out on the side, which is a different kind of ethical dilemma, with a different kind of flavor to it.
You’re supposed to be something of a role model - and she’s gone and fucked up bad by falling for you. From her perspective, it probably makes sense. Girl gets boy, bespoke song, credits roll and it's fine. No sin to atone, no 'after'.
It was supposed to be a one time thing. It’s metastasizing into something you’re not even going to attempt to put into words. It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen, you know that. And you know the girl has daddy issues, but then you've never had a problem whatsoever playing into it. The possessiveness, the control - she gets off on it. You're pretty sure that she'd do just about anything if you asked her, and you'll admit that the thought alone makes your stomach stir, your mouth run dry.)
Yuna taps her knuckles on the wood of your desk. “What’s the verdict?”
"Well, professionally," you say, caveat in hand, and you give the photos one last flip through. "I'd say they're fine.”
"Oh?" Yuna cocks her head to the side. Her long, blonde hair curtains over her shoulder, and the smile that shadows in at the corner of her mouth is almost wicked. She leans forward, chin propped on a palm, and you see that her expression is bright, glittering with interest. "And unprofessionally?"
Sure. It's a fair question.
Though she's wearing her stage face, the one that looks all big eyes and doe lashes, a hint of a pout on her plush bottom lip, and she's staring at you expectantly, the way she might look at a man she's just asked for the time.
You've seen her look a million other ways. You've seen her with her knees spread, her cheeks flushed, on all fours, straddling your lap, face pressed into the sliding glass door of your shower, her eyes screwed shut as she chokes out your name. And god, doesn’t she look good in all of them.
Your fingers tap against the photos.
“Unprofessionally," you tell her, and the smile on your face is tight - unknowable. "I think they’re a little… gaudy."
Yuna frowns, and it's just a flash before her expression is carefully blank again, the stage face back in full swing. She's been doing this since she was a teenager, so the mask is impeccable, but you know her, and you know that she's thinking: about the photo shoot, the way the photographer was looking at her, and the way you had looked at her later, too.
She knows what you've seen. She's wondering if that's why.
"Really," she asks, a note of disappointment in her voice.
"Really," you confirm with a small sigh, though you're still smiling. It's a small, private sort of smile, like you're remembering a joke. You don't miss the way she glances down at your mouth either. "Let me be clear, you have a shot at real success. I mean, you have a chance at a career. A real, sustainable career.”
She's sitting there with her legs crossed, her foot tapping restlessly, and when she's silent for a moment too long, the way her eyes narrow just a smidge, her head tipped slightly, you realize how it sounds. Patronizing.
"Look," you amend. You're not the best at apologies, but you try. "I just mean - I think that you could be doing something that you actually enjoy."
"Who says I don't enjoy this," she says, and there's a bite in her tone, a challenge. She's leaning back in her seat now, arms crossed.
"What, taking your clothes off for the camera?" You laugh, a quick bark. Isn’t that a cruel question, and you can see it in the way her eyes flash. "You could do a lot more than that, I'm just saying."
"Right," she says, and she doesn't blink, doesn't even move. Her gaze is fixed, unwavering. "Because I'm not pretty enough."
You open your mouth. Close it.
It's not a question. It's a statement.
"That's not what I'm saying-"
"Do you know what makes me different from the IT-girl-of-the-month? The Jang Wonyoungs, the Bae Irenes, the Kim Jisoos of the world?" Yuna cuts in.
"Yuna, this isn't-"
"You should know. " She laughs. "It's your job, knowing things, isn't it?"
The silence stretches thin between you. She's not wrong. There’s the quintessential beauty, the timeless classic, the fantasy-wrapped-up-as-a-daydream - oh, it's all sexual, but the product there is palatable (read: marketable). An idea the general public wants to take home to their mother, not take to bed. A beauty so docile and innocent, you feel guilty harboring those untoward thoughts it makes you have.
Yuna is somewhere possibly, someway probably the opposite. You’ve sold her as such, as fantasy in sheep's clothing. She's neither afraid to put the images to words, nor speak her desires aloud. It's her own brand of sensuality, and it's what the public wants - has always truly wanted, since the dawn of man and of popstars fucking their publicists - what the public wants but turns itself in knots just to pretend they don't. The only way it’ll end up in anyones’ parents' home is under the guise that it will be smuggled upstairs and held down into the springs of a mattress. Hand over her mouth, or maybe around her throat, just so she'll shut up.
She's not a nice girl, or the girl-next-door, a bride-in-a-box, but you'd known that before. The line between fact and fiction is fine indeed.
"You're different," you tell her, finally.
"When I first came in here, you had no qualms, no issue to raise, and now all of a sudden, everything is too much," she says, and she's not smiling, her tone flat. "If it was a problem from the jump, you would've said so."
“I just think a little subtlety would be a nice change of pace. It could go a long way, I mean, I could show you the data- "
"So you're going soft on me, is that it?"
You blink, and the realization hits.
"Just where was this noble version of you when we first started out? You had no problem then, remember? Put a sixteen-year-old in front of a camera, in this industry, and all of a sudden-"
"Don't."
“And suddenly it's all 'oh no, that's a little too much, we need to dial it back'." She sighs, a single sharp burst. "Why is that? Is it because you think that now you own me? I fuck you, swallow your cum and call you daddy, and now these are your decisions? Is that it?"
She’s standing now, her chair shoved back so fast it nearly clatters to the floor. There's a storm on her face, almost a rage. This now become a familiar story. The one where the girl's too pretty for her own good. Too much, too soon.
"I'm not a child," she tells you, her tone measured, a sharp contrast to the fire in her eyes. "I know what I want. I know how to get it. You're not telling me anything I don't already know. I'm different. You're right."
She's different, but the girl's clever, too. And she's stubborn. It's a dangerous combination.
You breathe slow. "Then why don’t you act like it."
“If they’re going to call me a slut,” she hisses, and she's walking forward. Her palms land on your desk, hard, and you glance down at her clenched fists, at her neatly kept nails, "you know, after we leak them all those steamy photos online-"
Your mind clicks. You reach to slam the cover of the photo book shut. She's caught your hand, though, in hers, holding it firmly to the desk.
Yuna glances at the photos over again, at the tight fit of the swimwear, or how the ties slip in an invisible breeze. And she's biting her lip, trying not to smile, you can tell. "You know it might be worth it for once," she says, slipping a finger between the buttons of her shirt.
There's a long, tense moment, and before you can register it, Yuna has rounded your desk; she’s closing the distance, fast.
And she’s lowering her eyes. Putting her lips on yours.
It knocks the wind from your sail, for just the instant. You're speechless.
Because her fingers. Her mouth. Her hair. Yuna's everywhere, and she's warm. It's utterly selfish, you understand: you want her to be yours. You want her to be yours and no one else's.
She’s realizing she might be.
You feel her grabbing for more of you. Wanting. She tilts her head, her breath hot, and you kiss her back, her mouth slick against your own, and the kiss is a fast, deliberate kind of messy. Your teeth catch her bottom lip, and her tongue slips past yours, licking into your mouth, her hands clutching at the collar of your shirt. It's not like it is when you're fucking, which is slow and hot, and she's on her back, legs around your waist, her nails biting into your skin, or when she's bent over the arm of the sofa, her ass in the air and her back arched, her breathless moans a chorus of yes, yes, please. This kiss is more battle, more heat, less gentle and less finesse. It's the kind of kiss that's just short of an argument.
"You're an asshole," she breathes into your mouth, and it's not a compliment.
You smile against her.
"So are you," you murmur, and her lips are parted, her eyelids fluttering shut, her breath coming quick and hot.
"Then maybe you should just fuck me," she says. She's not asking.
“Yeah.” You press your words right into her neck, her collarbone. “Maybe I should.”
Your hands are on her hips faster than you can realize what it is they’re doing, palms pressing into her, and then you're walking her backwards, shuffling a few steps until the small of her back collides with the edge of your desk, and you're lifting her up onto the surface, the photographs falling to the floor, scattering.
"I thought we weren't supposed to do this here," she murmurs, pulling away for just a moment, her mouth swollen and wet, her eyes dark. She knows exactly what it does to you: the goading, the taunting - the looks of faux-innocence later over a bare shoulder, her ass in the air. How it can get you to fuck her within an inch of her life. What it’ll get her, the return on investment.
"And I thought we agreed to longer skirts."
Her thighs are smooth, silky, and they part, the lace of her underwear stark against her skin. You slide a hand beneath the elastic band, sinking down, and down, until she inhales sharply.
"The fuck do you end up doing going up the stairs?" you add, and your fingers are tracing the swell of her hip, and you can feel the goosebumps on her skin.
She bites her lip. You sink down to press a kiss to her thigh, and then the other.
"Nothing," she tells you, and her eyes are wide. "I guess it all just hangs out."
She simply smirks right back into you, throws her arms over your shoulders. You’re snared, caught - she’ll always be able to fuck what she wants right out of you.
"Jesus, Yuna." Your hand curls around her wrist, thumb pressed to her pulse, and her shoulders roll back.
You push her down, and she's sprawled across the desk, legs stretching wide, her head tilted back and her chest heaving. “God, you’re so fucking wet, and I've barely touched you. That turns you on? Being a brat?"
She sucks air past her teeth, and you can measure each rise and fall of her chest. The lace under her hips is soaked, her pussy swollen and pink. Like if she doesn’t get your hot, open mouth on her clit this instant, you’re both going to have a problem.
You slip two fingers into her instead, and Yuna keens.
"I know it does," you say, and your voice comes out lower, drier than you expect. She's hot, so wet around you, her pussy fluttering. "It fucking turns me on, too."
"Please," and “god,” is what all you receive back in half whispers, while her legs are spread, her heels now really dug into the square of your back, and she's got a fistful of your hair like she owns it. Her voice is high, her eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t be such a fucking tease."
You're not going to make it easy. She's not going to make this quick.
"What, and you aren’t?"
You curl your fingers inside her, and the noise that leaves her is positively obscene. She's grinding against your palm, her hips bucking, and her lips are parted, her eyelashes dark and thick, fanning her cheeks. She's panting, her thighs trembling.
"No," she breathes. If she’s shaking her head, you can’t tell. "I'm exactly what you tell them I am."
Your hand stills, and it takes a moment for her to realize that the pressure inside her is gone. Her eyes snap open, her mouth twisted.
"Fuck you," she spits. "Put them back."
You're already sinking down to your knees, and you've got her skirt shoved up, the lace panties pulled aside, her hips canted, her pussy glistening. The stockings can stay, fuck, the heels, too. She's so fucking hot, her legs spread apart and her lips red. Her palm shoved into her brow, and her breath just barely more than a ragged huff of air. You can feel her body wound tight and ready, her eyes on the ceiling.
You put your tongue against her, flat and slow. Inaccurate, indiscriminate, licking up her wet cunt. And her whole body arches off the desk, a cry leaving her mouth with her head thrown back. Her thighs are shaking, and her heel presses into your shoulder, and god, she tastes incredible.
"Please." It comes like music, really, a song of desperation. You can hear it. She's singing it for you now. "Oh god, please, fuck-"
So you do her one better. You put your whole mouth over her, and she fucking shivers. You don’t even try to ease into it - you're devouring, ravishing her, working your lips and tongue all over her pussy, lapping the length of her in broad, hot strokes, and she's almost shrieking, her body going taut. You suck on her lips, pressing your tongue into her clit, and when you pull off her, your hand takes over the place where your tongue can't quite reach, her wetness slick around your fingers. Yuna's close - you can see that she is, you can hear that she is, and it's her gasp that lets you know.
"I'm -" she says, her voice reaching higher, her nails digging into the flesh of your shoulders, the wood of your desk. The sound she makes is wretched and beautiful. "God, I'm cumming, I'm cumming - fuck!"
The licking, the lapping, the fucking fingering. You can feel her slicked cunt pulse and throb in a satisfied, anticipatory kind of way. Even if she wasn’t audibly wet around your knuckles, you’d read Yuna like a map.
Your thumb taps across her clit, once - twice, thrice, and it’s just that.
She arches off your desk, thighs trembling as your tongue works her over, This hard, hungry kiss, and she tastes as sweet as she looks - as filthy as she acts, too. Her pussy is slick, her hips rolling, her body trembling, and she's making soft, little ah, ah, ah, sounds into the wet seal of your mouth. She's trying to keep it quiet, because she knows as well as you, everyone in the damn office does, probably - it's one thing to play at being a slut. A complete other to really fuck like one.
Your finger slips in and out of her pussy, and then another. They fill her up. The knuckles bending and pushing deeper. Yuna's fucking ruined - your desk is ruined.
But then there you are, complicit, and perhaps a little evil: licking and licking and licking right into her, making her grip twist in your hair and her thighs clench around your face. You can feel it in how her breathing is coming fast, faster, her whole body growing taut, and it was never going to take long, you figure, the way her hips were rolling the moment you got your hands on her. You can tell. She's close, and she's so pretty, all flushed and writhing, her skirt hiked up, her ass perched on the edge of your desk, and when her mouth falls open and her breath catches in her throat, you pull yourself up to watch her, the heel of your hand pressed against her clit, and she's shaking.
"Look at me,” you tell her, a kiss trailing unsatisfyingly into the crease of her thigh, your voice running coarse.
She does, her gaze glassy, and the sound that leaves her mouth is a sob. That’s all it really takes.
“Show me. What face you make when you cum on my fingers sweetheart, show me what a slut you actually are-"
You can watch it all in real time, the panting, the heaving. The sculpted lines of her pretty face screw up, real tight, and she lets out another moan, breathier this time, her mouth hanging open. She does it again when you press down. And Yuna fucking shakes, her hands balled, white-knuckling, and the desk rattling beneath her.
It's all a matter of slight degradation, you’ve learned, the barest humiliation. Like the paradoxical freedom she knows she can find in a hand clenched tight around her throat or her hair pulled and twisted into a fist or the sharp sting of a smack across her ass. Her pretty face. She likes a little something that burns. Something sinewy, visceral, raw: you call her a whore, a filthy fucking cumslut and it makes her body curl like she has hot metal pressing into her skin. Makes her breathless, like she wants you to own her.
Sometimes it's better than being fucked.
(Sometimes.)
Because just look at her: she’s in the middle of coming apart, mouth fallen slack, brow furrowed - and she gets real quiet when she cums, the absolute opposite of the journey she’d taken to get there, all those loud little, uh-uh-ah, fucking please god, her moans, her whimpers - her orgasm ripping right through the middle of her, the hourglass of her entire body stiffening on borrowed time as it washes across her features.
You let out a loud sigh, something she can moor herself to that isn’t your fingers, the desk, or your hair at the roots. Yuna can be every bit as uncomplicated as she can be complex, but god, you love her most like this: an unrehearsed, beautiful mess.
"Baby," you tell her, because it's easier to just call her that, and because you don't know how else to end the statement, because you know if you ask, she'll let you - hell, she'll beg for more, and that’s got your brain feeling rather mushily incoherent at present.
"Daddy," she responds - because of course she fucking does; she’s gasping, and her cheeks are still so pink, her body sated, and your heart leaps into your throat.
It's a problem; you've been trying to work it out for a good few months now, and by this, you mean the little moment you have right after you're done, where your eyes meet, and you smile at her. A problem, too, her lips. A problem, because she kisses you, soft, and slow, and easy. A problem, because her heart's probably already yours.
If anyone were to ask, you would have said there's no greater pleasure than knowing a girl that's almost died to take your cock, but maybe that's the point: it's just supposed to feel a bit better if you're a little head over heels, a little stupid about it too.
"I'm going to use this perfect pussy now," you warn her - just simple formality - because you're already rolling her down onto her back, your cock hard and aching against your trousers.
You've got your hands on her stockings, tugging them down to her ankles, the lace of her panties around her thighs, the neat garter of her garter belt wrapped around her hips, her cunt bare beneath it. You unzip, too slow. You tug yourself out.
“I’ll be good,” she says to you, a promise.
“Yeah,” you return to her, “I know.”
And you slip your cock into her cunt, just barely - maybe an inch, maybe more - and you hear a little noise leave her throat, low. Broken.
“Fuck,” she murmurs, and god, you just can't help it, it's easy; you sink deeper, nice, slow, everything smooth inside her, until another broken sort of gasp spills off her lips.
And then another: "oh my fucking god."
You snap your hips back in, bottoming out this time in the wet heat of her perfect cunt, and she just fucking collapses. Yuna looks like an absolute dream in this state of half-dress, half-distress: black suede around the ankles, stilettos, with just the perfect heel. There are worse things, you can imagine, and she looks perfect sprawled out against your notes and portfolios, all this hot, aching want. As gorgeous as she is fucked. You tear into her stockings, a little. You’ll tear more.
You already know you're going to hell. Or at least that’s where you should already be, but you hips crash into hers again, fucking her legs wider apart, spreading her open across your desk for you, getting her slick all over the photos, her career - it’s all so perfectly unfair.
"You have no idea, the things I want to do to you right now," you breathe, your tone hushed, and you're talking again, like you often do. There goes your mouth - but your hips drag back, and then again, her pussy clenching, vice tight and impossibly wet.
It's a long, torturous, lazy sort of a pull, that draws these pretty thin moans from the very center of her.
And the way that feels, your cock buried deep in her cunt: better than good - heaven, if you care enough about labels for it, or the names of things. You haven’t any real way to tell; the gates haven't opened or anything, so all you're working from here is an educated guess. From the fact that Yuna’s eyes have slid closed, her lips parted, and her whole body starting now to tremble gently with it.
"Jesus, this perfect, tight pussy grips me so good, god - such a good girl, always so fucking wet for me," and your mouth is pressed to the arch of her ear, whispering every last thing you know will make her cum again, like a dream.
And she is, she does.
She's twisting up to grip at your hips, her head falling to one side. When you drag your cock through her cunt, slowly, you watch her lips purse and the way the flush moves all the way down the column of her neck, past her collarbone, her shirt half undone and her tits heaving against the white, sheer fabric. You fuck her for a little, and then you roll your hips slow, so slow.
Until your pace is fucking punishing, deep, and so hard. You can’t help it.
Because it's unbelievable - she's so perfect, so tight around you. Fit snug like a glove, like she was made to take your cock, to whimper and mewl at your mercy. Her lips part further and she keens, her brows twisting in similar disbelief as you pound your length into her. The heat pooled in your belly, the way she looks under your desk: fuck, she's so beautiful like this, properly fucked.
You'd let her ruin you for life - it's that simple.
"Yuna, you - fuck," you barely say, and you sound more than slightly stunned, so she’s filling in the gaps, elaborating in the spaces you cannot - that she loves it, that you’re so good for her, and so is that, and that, and that - the way it hits, right there, keep fucking her just like that, because right there, right there, right there, right there - the way she props herself up on her elbows to tell you, "you're fucking me so deep, oh my god - yes, oh my god, fuck."
By the time Yuna shudders through another orgasm, a silent ghost of a wail leaving her pretty frozen mouth, her lashes are batting against her cheeks, and she's biting her lip, so hard you're certain she's going to break the skin, her back strung like a bow. It's the look on her face, that soft sort of reverence, and how her lips are swollen and spit-slick, the pretty hollow of her throat. Your thrusts become faster, shorter - your own moan thick in your throat, your jaw hanging slack.
“Here,” you say, and she’s just putty between your fingers, on your cock.
You’re flipping her around, onto a different angle. You know she likes it, the way her tits are pressed against your desk, and it's hot the way her ass tilts right into your hips, arched. Proffering. "Be good for me, and spread yourself open."
She's already so meek when she complies. "Anything, sir. Stretch me out; I want you to make me yours."
God, she's practically purring when she talks like this. She knows exactly what that fucking does to you. Knows that when her eyes draw back, big and watery and full, you're a goner - if your cock wasn't deep in her pussy, fucking her open and raw, the view would nearly be enough. And all of this, the pretense, the pantomime, she knows how to bend the line of your body to her own, because when she turns, and presses her red mouth to the crest of her shoulder, you are hers.
You could probably cum, right now, deep down into the molten hot of her cunt: if your hips keep up their ruthless pace, if her ass was sticking up the slightest bit more - the sound that would come from her.
"Take that perfect cock - and fuck my pussy up," Yuna mewls, her voice saccharine and slurring, a touch whiny. She rolls her hips. Your cock grinds, still, though it stutters now - shallow and quick.
"All this pussy, for daddy's cock," and you're sure that the entire office can hear her now, the moans that escape from her mouth - but you can't even find it in you to care. You're caught, all of her a net you've willingly been ensnared by, and here you figure that's the slightest bit appropriate; you're so fucked, and it's funny, too. Funny enough to laugh about, later. "Nobody fucks this tight little pussy the way you do, sir."
It's a smile she hears in your voice when you say, "is that right? Go on then, let’s hear all the things you'd have me do to your slutty little cunt."
The line's crossed again, in some indecipherable direction. Where, again, exactly, does it matter? There are lines and lines, and none of them quite mark the beginning, the end, the periphery. This time you don't pull back; you dig deep, and it makes Yuna cry out like you’re killing her. Which, in a way - you already have.
So your hips stutter forward again, once more, and you lean into the slant, so fucking deep it's practically impaled. There’s nothing quite like holding this girl’s hips and pounding her from behind. Her pussy alone is fucking incredible. And the sound her ass makes against the flat of your stomach, the crease of your thighs - it's unimaginable, the way Yuna makes these little squeaks of a noise, like half-broken moans, when you fuck deep, deep, deeper into her. The way her arms splay wide and search frantic across your desk. And as you grab her slim, dainty wrist, pin it back and pull her tight - fixing her upright until you have her head lolling back against your chest - you simply fucking pound away.
Fucking all these little curses and sounds of appreciation out of her throat. Your cock forcing out each syllable, "yes," and "fuck," and "god, oh my fucking god - I cannot believe," now on repeat, how her tone grows tighter. How she moans - a lot, like something's being worked loose.
"Uh-uh," and you're holding her steady now, with one broad, strong hand at the back of her neck. "Keep telling me, and maybe I'll let you cum."
Your free hand finds purchase in her hair. Yuna's groan coming out pathetic and wanting, her mouth half open. You wrap her silky golden locks around your fist, her hair thread neatly through your fingers, and then give the slightest of yanks.
Christ, her pussy just fucking soaks onto you. Greedy. Needy.
"Shit," and Yuna gasps when she can, where she's allowed to.
"Oh, is my little girl into getting her hair pulled?" and you can see the signs of affirmation: the muscles inside her flexing, grasping you as you roll in, a small, soft nod, and the way she sighs your name, like a prayer on her lips.
Listen, she can barely speak, the way you're fucking her apart. Yuna's body is wound like a bow, like string and taught wire. Bent into the side of the desk and open for you, her pussy pulsing tight around you with every stroke.
"Sir, I'll do - whatever you need, just - just - let me have your cum, please -" and there, she's begging now, and her voice is tinny, breaking, breathless and airless.
Then it’s her fucking hair. You pull so much on it harder this time, with another measured thrust inside her, your body flush against her ass. Fingerprints searing down onto where her hips flare and taper, impossibly narrow.
You’re probably hurting her. You’re probably ruining her for anyone else - nothing will ever satiate her more than the way she sobs as your fingers twist tighter through her hair. Around her fucking miracle of a waist. It's an obscene sound that echoes down to your cock, as deep, hot and fucking filthy as her cries when she cums for the third, fourth?
"Just," Yuna barely makes, her eyelids heavy, her gaze flitting somewhere behind her. "Just look at you, fucking me so hard, filling up my tight little pussy, making me take everything your cock has to give. God, you love wrecking my perfect little hole, don't you?"
No, or yes, or probably. You’ll figure out the details later.
"God, I love it when you get real messy, when I get you like this-" your words run seamlessly into the searing heat between your bodies, like punctuation, like the end of days -
"Use me." She doesn't just say it. "Take me, and cum in me, wherever you want. Daddy, you can have my mouth, or, or, you can - you can finish inside me."
And god, you could, you really could: just the timbre of her voice does things to you, the way that it curls around the words daddy, and sir, and you're fucking me so goddamn good. She's saying them now, her whimpers breaking into outright moans and all: shit, please, please - you're gonna make me cum - oh - oh fuck! And when she's wound that tight, a quivering, sopping mess of a girl, you put your fingers against her clit, circling and pressing in tempo to the thrust of your cock.
The cruel metronome that makes. Hell, it fucking sends her.
She’s begging you to finish inside her. It's fucked up - and she knows it. She wraps her heels around the square of your back, and the tension rises, and rises, the coiled spring tight and waiting - just a push away, so you slam into her once, then twice more, the push of a hand splayed between her tits and your fingers digging into the muscle of her thigh. She wants you to cum in her pussy, fill her right up; she tells you that, again, that she wants it, and her voice is raspy, high. That she wants you now, as if she didn't before, and how does this compare, because she needs it now.
You hold out for just a little. You’re holding your breath. Just a little, just until Yuna’s eyelashes flutter open over her shoulder and she says your name, so sweetly, and says, "please, just, inside."
You shouldn't.
You can't.
So here, barely able to think at all, you end up doing the unthinkable - thinking all the while of pumping her right to the finish and draining your balls straight into the deepest reach of her cunt, how fucking tempting it may be - you muster an ounce of good judgment still adrift in a sea of lust. Your throbbing cock draws out of that wet, inviting heat and into your fist, and watch how that makes her begin to unspool: the way she tries to press her knees shut. She's sobbing for it, pleading, her lashes dark with tears. "No, no, fuck me, please, I'm begging you. Please, I'm going to be so good - god, please -"
You tug her back, look her in the eye, and let out a loud, shaky exhale. "Knees, princess."
She's too wracked with need to do anything other than comply. Her jaw drops. “But-”
"Mouth," you cut in, sharp enough that her gaze lifts, and you're right there - on the precipice, so close, watching her tongue dart out of her mouth to run across the swell of her bottom lip.
Watching her knees fold into the carpet, her stockings down loose around her thighs, her underwear hanging off an ankle. The rise and fall of her chest like rolling waves, and you can see her hands fisting on her knees, and her face: you watch the emotion flash over, like water on glass, and a moment is all it takes. She leans her face forward to your hand, as you wind her hair into your fist, her lips parted and her gaze lowered. She's obedient, taking the weight of your cock with her pretty pink mouth like the fucked-up-little-fantasy that she is, opening so nice and wide.
Her eyes flit up to yours, her mascara-ringed lashes fanned against the pink of her cheeks.
"My face," she tells you, or something close to it, "fuck my face. Go ahead, use it - cum all over me."
Your cock slides halfway home, her cheeks hollowing, and when it presses to the back of her throat, she gags. You curse and tip your head back, the wood of your desk digging into the flesh of your palm.
"What did you say," you half groan out. "Baby," you add, just for good measure, just to play along, "c'mon."
The tip of Yuna's tongue sweeps and swirls just beneath your cockhead, and she moans her answer around your length, lapping at a leak of precum. "I said," she's repeating now, her cheek brushing across your shaft, and you shudder. "Fuck, what I said was I want you to cum all over my face.
Jesus.
You bury your cock into her mouth once, twice. Let it sit there. Let her really struggle for it, the angle just a tad awkward from above. Let her lips stretch wide, and her shoulders shake a little - tears start to gather, pricking her eyes, her lipstick a mess, the way your cock fits, plugging up her throat so full. You hold her like that for just a second, a little less - until Yuna's moaning, the vibration low in her mouth, and her eyes flutter open, closed.
"Fuck," you spit out, and "perfect," and your voice is shot, your whole face warm, and you're going to cum on her - everywhere on her. Yuna, who’s been staring up at you in wide-eyed submission, gives you a little nod, like she means it.
Like she’s earned it.
And maybe she has: it only takes one last look to seal it - her hand curled around your cock, her cheek matted with her own spit and lipstick, the bright smudge of her own cum from the point of her chin to the cleft of her cupid's bow, and her eyes are locked on yours, eager and hot. Maybe she hasn't - and maybe you should make her beg, fuck her mouth some more - it's almost cruel, how she looks. A perfectly pretty picture, poised and pliant and waiting, and she's right there, beneath you, and fuck - this is so wrong, and you'll ruin her, you'll mark her up like this. She'll be painted like a work of art.
Your pulse thickens. Stands right up in your veins.
Then, your control, snapping: her pretty lashes flutter, her mouth gone slack, her jaw still tilted up like she expects a gift, an offering, her palm wrapped so nice and snug around the base of your cock, her expression dazed, and so easy, and perfect, so eager. You tilt your hips just a fraction further, and she fucking swallows, her tongue tracing the underside where you throb harder, heavier - her body lilting up as you press in so deep.
“God,” you breathe in, out. It hits hard. It hits fast. “Yuna-”
A tensing of your stomach coils up through like smoke, and your grip tightens on the edge of your desk, the other in her hair, a helpless, desperate thrusting, and there - it's a wonderful, brilliant sort of explosion, like light, the white-hot burn of a fever breaking. You cum all over her face and into her hair, spilling out streaks of hot, filthy white onto her sculpted features and the sweet line of her throat, and god, there's so much, she's taking it so easily, all her breathing hot and heavy and loud.
Her skin alabaster and porcelain; cotton and canvas; she lets you fucking paint her, all messy and ruined.
In fact she’s even smiling like she’s holding in a laugh, all gooey-soft with satisfaction, and you're jerking your cock slow through her slender fingers, even after there's nothing else left to give and every inch of her face is marked - the way she wears your cum like new skin. You feel the shockwave tear your nerves open, and then the calm, right on its heels, spreading out from your core to your fingertips, out through the roots of your hair.
"Ah," you exhale, a tight gasp. Yuna takes the entirety of you into her mouth, sucking down your length - harder - as she swallows back a final, sticky load, her own hair sweat-slick to her face.
Just look at the damage: that’s a story not even you’d be able to spin. There's cum on her nose, dribbling past her cheek. On her jaw and on her cheek. Filthy white streaked all over her parted lips, her neck. Down her shoulder blades, and soiling her hair, and leaking down past her collarbones.
(Christ, was this better or worse? You can't even tell. Every version of her that's been served on a plate for you has seen fit to make you sweat.)
When the dust begins to settle, you’re left panting and spent. Yuna, the collateral on this fine, whiny, disaster of a deal. A collection of photos, and some thoughts and ideas, that now sit disheveled on the ground. There's a scathing voice inside your head that's demanding to be heard, reminding you all-too-casually that this is not any way to manage a client. She could snap her fingers, call out to that sycophant at the top floor, and your career would be over - she could do anything she should ever desire.
You know, on a baser level, this, and worse: the duality of the thought. Her tight cunt on your desk, you on your knees; the sharp gasp you can steal from the top of her throat, perhaps when she feels the gentle pressure of teeth around one rosy nipple. The pinch of your thumb and index finger around the other. Her nails down your back in ten angry lines, and the throb in her throat, while you slide the whole width of a hand, rough, over the flesh of her ass.
Maybe the desk, like everything else, can just join the pile on the floor.
"Yuna," you say, the vowels pitching like a sigh.
Her palms find the sharp crease in your pants and slide upward. She's gazing up at you, bright, her face sticky with you.
"You can't send me out like this," she tells you, matter-of-factly, letting a smile cross the lines of her lips - or a smirk. A wordless extension of the previous sentence - of a few.
You pull out and away from her: a white and gray dotted tie hanging loose, unknotted; a button still fastened somewhere mid-center, your trousers pulled off and loose down just below your knees, the fly gaping open. She's in a similar state, the cups of her bra slipping loose, her mouth flushed, lips swollen and red, the outline of how she’d let you use her in a smeary, runny stain across her cheek.
"Maybe let your manager know," you tell her, pulling your belt in place, and you think you catch her eye rolling. "That you're going to be late."
Yuna doesn't hesitate.
"Tell her yourself," she responds, "I'm sure she'll be relieved to hear I'm not actually dead - just having gotten fucked stupid on my PR person's cock."
"I might forget to include a couple details."
"You shouldn’t." Her eyebrows jump. And she's chewing, lazily, on the full curve of her lower lip, her teeth glinting like razors. "Here, before you throw all this to the sharks -"
So, so very dramatic, and with this: her thumbnail pressed beneath your chin. It draws your gaze up - up, and down: from the splay of her legs and the gleam of wetness between them, a brief rest along the arcs of her chest - the room's a total fucking wreck. Your necktie, her skirt, her blouse, her pantyhose. The papers and books all spread, bent, broken, the stack knocked clean onto its side. The skirt's probably still pulled too far up her hips for decency, her breasts shoved up to her neck and the collarbone, and then there's her face - her chin streaked with cum. Yuna smiles then, the corner of her mouth pulled upward.
She might kiss her if you'd let her.
Cum on her lips be damned, she's beautiful like that, like she isn't even trying. And in fact, she never really had to - this girl, she'd do it alone. The idea that someone could be as universally loved as she, is enough, a marvel even, but here she is in front of you, every atom and curve a siren, a study in perfection and composition. Like she’s not just all your mistakes laid out to bear.
"Take a second to take a proper look, hm? Get all the memories in, while they're fresh."
"Because?"
"You can remember I'm only the person you say I am, for you."
"You can remember I'm only who you say I am, for you."
"Oh, of course," and the laugh that leaves your throat sounds dry, cracked open. The band of her skirt stretches, snaps back, so neatly that it leaves a pale line on her flesh. And now there are your hands, fitting around her hipbones, a sigh: a short, sudden motion, tugging her up. Yuna gasps: something surprised, delighted. She's all grins and teeth, all clean, bright incisors.
"Mine," you're breathing, the flat of her stomach underneath the fingers you've placed upon it. "This is mine - you. Yours - you're all mine."
It’s possessive, but, you’re not all incorrect.
"Yeah," she more than agrees.
There's a ribbon-taut quality in the way it leaves her mouth, the tension in her body coiled up through to the bones. She makes it sound like the beginning of a promise, the beginning of something much larger.
And by the way." She’s still buttoning her shirt. Putting herself together. You’ve seen the triage, the damage control. This is the Yuna you get.
So, she needs the second - a respite to lick a stray stripe of slick and cum off her wrist - blotting her cheeks with a ball of wet tissue, until all that's left is the smeared lipstick, her stockings splayed around the floor. The pattern you've worn, where your fingerprints would've shown, gets covered up under her skirt and her coat, wrapped up in a scarf.
The smug satisfaction in her tone pulls your focus, just in time, her hair's falling in waves down her shoulders - perfect, but not flawless: there's a creased line, a hint of her throat, just beneath the collar. There's a slight wisp out of place. The buttons aren't arranged all the way from her collar to her sternum.
"I'm going to go with that photoset, with the white top, in the sand - gonna post 'em online and generate some buzz. You even said it yourself: they're fine. " She pauses, pushing away a strand of hair. "Professionally, of course."
"Professionalism." You smile. "Of course."
She walks out carrying the stilettos: pumps in either hand.
"Always. Catch you soon," she promises, and you do catch a last flash of her expression, lips parted, the lower curving into a satisfied smile, right as she flicks the lock on the door open and your office goes back to quiet.
For a split second, it's unbearable: the silence.
And you think again.
She can have anything, get any boy, girl, whoever, any designer, photographer, make-up artist in the world; there's something so unmistakably intoxicating about the fact that the thing she's decided she wants, is you.
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First of all, love the way you write the characters and stories!! They’re so fun to read and always is a huge moodbooster!
May I request Law or the monster trio finding reader after finishing up a huge battle? (Like where the reader is too exhausted to move)
Please remember to take care of yourself so to not end up like overworked reader!! You’re always allowed and deserving of rest 🫶
Characters: gn reader x Law, Luffy, Sanji, Zoro
Cw: post-battle exhaustion
Total word count: 800
Post Battle
Law
Law would be pissed that you spent all of your energy to fight a battle. Especially a battle that he started.
He would be more scared than anything, and he would also blame himself for putting you in this situation. He just wants you safe, and it’s not fair that you ended up like this because of him.
He would probably scold you and warn you not to take things too far again (“your body can’t take much more of this y/n-ya. You know better”)
But he doesn’t want to lose you. That thought is the scariest thing in the world for him. He can’t live without you.
And the fear of losing you comes out in the form of anger. But his fear will quickly extinguish, and he will quickly become the soft, loving man you know in secret.
He’ll pick you up and shambles you both away to safety, where you are priority number one. He cares to your wounds and caters to anything you possibly need (even if he does fake-grumble about it, he really does love it)
In the future, he promises himself that he will do better and he will never put you in a position like that again.
Sanji
Sanji didn’t even want you to fight. He’s angry that you put yourself in harm's way. Someone should’ve been there to protect you. He should’ve been there.
Not that you can’t handle yourself. He trusts you to get the job done. He’s just mad at himself for leaving you in the first place and putting you in a situation where you had to fight.
When he whispers your name and coos in your ear, promising you that you’ll be okay.
He calls for Chopper and he wipes your hair out of your face. He doesn’t want to move you in case he ends up hurting you further. He’s trying his best to stay calm.
He wants to panic, and every bone in his body is screaming in agony seeing you like this, but he doesn’t want you to panic, so he tries his best to act normal (he's not super great at it tbh he is so obviously scared for you)
He keeps saying stupid things like “no no don’t talk, save your strength” or “you look so beautiful everything is going to be okay” and you have to remind him that everything WILL be okay. You’re not dying, you're just tired.
While you're recovering he makes so. much. food. You have to pawn some off to Luffy when Sanji isn’t looking because there’s no way you can eat so much.
Luffy
Luffy would be proud. SO so proud.
Covering you in kisses and cheering and showing you off to the world proud.
He trusts you to handle whatever battle you’re in. And he knows you’ll hold up your part of the deal. You’ve never let him down before.
He keeps you close though. He takes a post-battle nap with you, intertwined with your body.
He feels safe with you next to him like that. He swears your body has magical healing properties, because he always wakes up 200% better after sleeping next to you (you feel better too, though you can’t explain why).
He keeps you next to him through the feast and the party, and he examines your new cuts, bruises, and scars. He only admires them, which helps you feel a little less insecure about them.
Sometimes you all have matching cuts or bruises, to which Luffy celebrates with another round of booze and another plate of meat.
Zoro
Zoro is also insanely proud of you.
He never doubted you, but he knew it would be a hard battle. It was for everyone. But of course you got it finished. You were a person of your word and you would do what you said.
He tries to be casual about it. He won’t admit that he was a little worried about how you would end up, but he’s so relieved to find you mostly okay.
He doesn’t admit how his pace quickened when he saw you crumpled on the ground. How just for a moment, he found himself considering a quick prayer to some random god to make sure you were okay.
But you were just tired. And he knows how to fix that. He gently picks you up and carries you back to safety.
He lets you sleep while he runs his fingers through your hair and across your skin, so so thankful that all you need is a little nap to be okay.
And to be honest, he could use a nap too. He’ll blame you for needing a nap, but he always sleeps easier with you around, especially after a battle.
#one piece#one piece imagine#one piece scenario#one piece x reader#one piece x you#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar law#law x reader#trafalgar law x reader#sanji#black leg sanji#vinsmoke sanji#sanji x reader#sanji x y/n#luffy#monkey d luffy#monkey d. luffy#luffy x reader#luffy x y/n#zoro#roronoa zoro#zoro x reader#zoro x y/n#cozage#✧˚law✧˚#✧˚sanji✧˚#✧˚ luffy✧˚#✧˚zoro✧˚
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what, like it’s hard?, pt. one
“it’s just that… if i want to win a seat in congress by the time i’m thirty, i need to find someone who’s serious about my career. not some little elementary school teacher that cares more about his students than what he’s wearing on my campaign stops,” tommy tells steve, as they’re sitting in quite possibly the fanciest restaurant steve’s ever step foot in. the menu hadn’t even included any prices.
“but… i’m seriously in love with you.” steve feels like his whole world is falling apart. just last week he’d been so sure that tommy was getting ready to propose. he’d introduced steve to his family—they’d spent a week out on martha’s vineyard for a family reunion at which steve had met tommy’s great-grandmother, hands laden with rings as she’d winked when tommy had asked for a private conversation. steve had been so sure that conversation was about the family ring.
“and i love you too, baby, but look. you don’t want to have to leave your students for half the year to come on the campaign trail with me, do you?” tommy asks, not even really looking at steve. he continues to just eat his stupid dinner as if he’s not ripping steve’s heart out at this very moment.
and steve can’t help but think how silly this all is, because it’s not like tommy’s actually running for anything right now. steve doesn’t even teach yet, beyond the two days a week he does his student teaching. they’re only 22, they haven’t even graduated northwestern with their bachelors degrees! but tommy’s saying these things as if they’re all real, right now.
“and i’m off to harvard next fall. it’s not like we’ll stay together while i’m there and you’re still here, right?”
and the thing is, steve had actually thought he’d be going with tommy to boston. they’re both set to graduate in the spring, steve with his degree in education and tommy with a dual major in pre-law and political science. they hadn’t really ever talked about it, but they’d been together since the beginning of their sophomore year. so yes, steve had thought they’d still be together when tommy started at harvard law.
but now steve’s starting to feel extra stupid.
“so… what? you’re breaking up with me?” steve starts to feel his chest tightening, like he might cry. he can’t believe that two hours ago he thought he’d been getting ready for a proposal.
“don’t think of it as a breakup, stevie… think of it as a conscious uncoupling. we’re just moving in two different directions. i’ll be at harvard law next semester and you’ll be…” tommy gives him a look of slight disdain—steve has never seen tommy look at him like that. waitstaff? sure. his driver? absolutely. but it’s never been directed at steve before. “well, you’ll be teaching snot-nosed six year olds. we’re on different paths.”
and that’s what truly makes steve’s blood boil. his passion for teaching and education is one of his greatest qualities and he’d thought that had been part of the reason tommy loved him. he didn’t realize that tommy loved him in spite of that. he’s not gonna let some asshole like tommy montgomery hagan iii tell him he’s no good.
so he doesn’t respond. he just takes the linen napkin off his lap and throws it on his half-eaten steak dinner and marches out of the restaurant.
tommy doesn’t even follow him out.
~*~
“oh steve… i’m sorry,” robin says to him about an hour later while steve lays his head in her lap on their dingy couch.
“it’s not even that he broke up with me,” he explains through tears. “it’s that he basically said i was worthless. like i couldn’t do anything better than teaching. as if teaching isn’t even an admirable profession! where would he be without his teachers, huh? isn’t this all about going to stupid harvard? what does he think the professors there actually do? knit?”
“is this a bad time to tell you that i always kind of hated him?” robin says, maybe trying to get him to laugh. but it kind of surprises steve. he sits up, knocking her hands from where they’ve been carding through his hair in the process.
“you did?! no, you didn’t.” he searches robin’s face for a moment and then sighs. “why didn’t you say anything? you could’ve saved me a whole lot of wasted time.”
“babe, you were so gooey-eyed for that guy, nothing i said was gonna change that. a crowbar couldn’t have pried you away from him. but you have to know he was an asshole.” when steve stares at her blankly, she huffs. “steve, he used to offer to cover the whole tab when we went out. how often did he ever actually pay, even for his own drinks? he made poor jonathan cry the last time we were all here for game night, just because jonathan asked for clarification on the rules for pictionary.” steve is still staring at her. “he tried to stiff argyle by offering him a flight on his dad’s private jet instead of paying for his weed and we all know he doesn’t even have access to the jet. dude was cheap as fuck and not even nice about it.”
steve thinks about it. it was kind of true. tommy was a horrible tipper—steve usually laid down a couple of twenties when they went to dinner together when tommy wasn’t looking. he can remember more than a few times where the guy had sent their food back even though it had looked perfectly wonderful to steve. so… okay, maybe robin had a point.
steve tells her as much, then adds, “but he was always nice to me.”
robin snorts. “are you kidding? he’s stood you up so many times i can’t even remember all of them. remember that time he said his first impression of you was that you weren’t as hot as your pictures? who says that to the person they’re dating?”
steve groans and lays his head back down in her lap.
“okay, so maybe you have a point about that too. but i was gonna marry him, rob. what do i do now?” he knows he’s whining, but he feels just a little bit entitled to it right now.
“i don’t know, babe. get over it, i guess. welcome to the world of us singles. it sucks out here.” steve can hear the fondness in robin’s voice as she says it, but still. it does sting just a little.
they sit there in silence for a while, with robin running her hands through his hair again. it’s so soothing that he almost jumps out of his skin when she speaks again.
“hey, you know what would be super funny?” she’s laughing a little as she says it.
“what?” steve had been dozing just a little and his voice sounds muffled by fatigue.
“if you got into harvard and just showed up on the first day. imagine the look on his face.”
steve laughs at how ridiculous that sounds. like he could get into harvard. plus, he’s got teaching to think about. he doesn’t have a place yet, but he knows he’ll get one soon.
but as he sits there with robin’s hands stroking through his hair, he begins to daydream about how shocked tommy would be. about how he’d have no choice but to eat his words when steve proves himself by getting into one of the most competitive programs in the country. about how good it would feel to prove the bastard wrong.
“robin?” she hums in response. “you’re a goddamn genius.”
~*~
“dingus, are you sure you want to do this?”
the spring semester starts in three days. it’s their last semester at northwestern and there’s nothing but great big darkness on the horizon of steve’s future. he hasn’t slept in two days, busy studying, thick workbooks piled around around him at the kitchen table. he knows what he must look like, over-caffeinated with bruises under his eyes.
“i’m sure.” steve has his lsat exam in one week. “i have to take the exam this week. apps are due by march first.”
“no, steve, i don’t mean taking the test. i mean applying at all. it’s clearly more stress than it’s worth. do you even want to go to law school?” robin sounds concerned and normally steve would think it’s very sweet, but currently it does nothing but irritate him.
“i could,” he responds grumpily.
robin sighs. “i just mean… is this worth it?”
steve looks up then and sees her biting her lip, clearly worried about him. he puts his pencil down and stops the timer on his phone, giving her his full attention.
“this isn’t just about tommy.” robin gives him a skeptical look and it’s his turn to sigh. “it’s really not. maybe it started out that way, maybe it was just a stupid joke to get revenge on the asshole, but now it’s more than that. it’s proving that i can do something unexpected of me.” he swallows. “no one even believed i would get into college. i was just some stupid jock in high school who’d never amount to anything. and then i got in to northwestern and i was so shocked and happy. but i found out that my dad had actually pulled a bunch of strings. so i hadn’t gotten in on my own merits. he didn’t think i could. but now…” he runs a hand through his hair nervously. he’s never said any of this out loud before. “he’s not around now. there’s no one to help me. no safety net. if i can do this, it’ll prove something to me. something that maybe i don’t really believe yet.”
he expects robin to say something about external validation being a corrupting force and identity built on academic achievement being solely a losing game, but she doesn’t. instead, she sits down across the table from him and picks up a workbook.
“okay,” she says. “what do we have to do?”
~*~
“mail here?” steve calls out when he hears the front door close behind robin.
there’s a moment that feels like a pause. “yeah, it’s here.”
steve practically sprints from his bedroom to his living room. robin holds a single white envelope in her hand. steve all but snatches it from her.
his fingers move to rip it open, but then he hesitates. he thrusts it back towards robin. “i can’t,” he tells her. “you do it.”
her eyebrows shoot up. “you’re sure?” steve nods. he watches her rip the envelope open, bouncing on his feet. she scans the page and then she’s smiling.
steve grabs the paper from her. “oh my god?!” he yells. “oh my god!”
robin practically jumps into his arms. “179, baby! harvard law here we come.”
~*~
even after such a successful run at the lsats, there’s still the little matter of actually getting in to the school. steve’s only experience with the academic application process was with undergrad and it appears that applying for anything beyond a bachelors degree is an entirely different ball game. he’s so out of his depth that he’s forced to turn to grad school message boards for advice and tips of how to get in. it seems like everyone else is applying to a hundred different schools while steve’s only applying to one. he learns this is a terrible strategy for planning one’s future, but that doesn’t really matter to steve. for him, it’s harvard or nothing.
there are so many different parts of the application that it makes steve’s head spin. there’s the statement of purpose and the personal statement—the difference between those two requires robin’s careful and slow explanation about three separate times. then there’s the writing sample and the application and the recommendations and the transcripts and and and
but with robin’s help, steve completes each component and successfully sends his materials by the day of the deadline.
steve’s never been a patient person. no one on earth would accuse him of that, so even he can tell that he’s getting on robin’s nerves every day as he practically pounces on her when she returns from collecting the mail.
and then one day, finally, at the end of april, she comes through the front door and clutched in her hand is a big, thick white envelope emblazoned with the words ‘harvard law’ in bold, beautiful crimson red.
~*~
“last chance to back out,” robin says smiling as she swings herself up into the passengers seat of their rented u-haul.
“nah.” steve returns her smile as he slides his sunglasses from his hair onto his face. “let’s get out of this dump.”
and with that, they leave their first apartment behind, headed to the coast.
[wanted to finish this completely before posting but my benadryls kicking in and i have no self control. eventual steddie, promise! no tag list for this one, sorry!! it’s giving me anxiety on the other one lol absolutely not edited, if u see a typo no u don’t. i wrote this on my phone in a feverish frenzy. also, i originally invented someone for the role of warner but then i was like ‘IDIOT!!!!! why would u not choose tommy?????’ so if there’s a name in here that shouldn’t be, no there isn’t.]
#the not as hot as ur pictures thing is a real thing my ex said to me after we’d been together for like six months lol called me ugly 😭#legally blonde au#steddie#steddie fic#steddie legally blonde au#this will EVENTUALLY be steddie if i write more lol#robin buckley#steve harrington#platonic stobin#steddie fanfic#steddie ficlet#i’m setting it up!!!!!#eddie will be a bartender not a law guy sorry!!!! lawyer!eddie just don’t feel right to me#steddie fanfiction#steddie blurb#guess what i watched tonight#well i also watched mean girls lol#here have this half finished thing#i wanted to finish it before posting but
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The Spitting Image | Part 1
Summary: Years passed since last time you saw your ex-boyfriend and father of your son. Fate decided the perfect moment for you to reconnect was after the end of the world.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! Reader
Warnings: swearing, threatening, someone is punched, mentions of violence, mentions of doing harm to children (none of the characters, it’s just a thought), walkers, mentions of injuries, a little angsty. Minors do not interact. (If I forgot anything let me know)
Word Count: 4,419
A/N: It was supposed to be a one shot, but it was getting too big and I wasn’t in the middle of it, so I’ll make a mini series of it.
The reader’s son is 17 yo, so if you don’t feel comfortable reading something self insert having a kid this age, it’s up to you.
Here I’m supposing Daryl is in the beginning of his 40s when they get to Alexandria to make sense the age of his son.
Also, I have no idea how are the laws in the U.S.A. To register your children, so if it’s not possible to register a kid with the name of the father without the father, let’s pretend in this universe it is.
Series Masterlist Part 2
Main Masterlist
It had been days that you were out there with Aaron and Eric, you had found a possible group to invite to Alexandria. While you and Aaron was observing them from afar in the road, Eric was in a nearby city waiting for you.
That group seemed like a good group, they took care of each other and shared. They also had a kid and a baby, it needed to mean something. As a mom, you could clearly identify with their struggles and want to protect every kid you came by, unless it was a psychopath kid that wanted to kill you and your son, then… you had no empathy.
United and righteous people were exactly the kind of people you needed for Alexandria. It seemed as they were hungry and thirsty you had some supplies you could give them to help. Hiding on the trees you could only observe them using binoculars as you needed to remain far from them because of safety. You had never zoomed to observe them this much before, but there was something intriguing you and you didn’t voice it to Aaron yet. He was one of your best friends back in Alexandria, but you had to make sure.
There were a guy, all wearing black. He had a sleeveless black shirt that showed his toned arms, he seemed to be tall and had really broad shoulders and a relatively long hair. He carried a crossbow, and even though he was as tired and week as everyone else, he tried to not let it show. You only knew a person like this, but it had been so long since you last saw him that you thought this was your mind playing games with you. You were so young back then, you changed so much… he probably did too, probably you even crossed paths before the world ended and you didn’t recognized each other. But you had to make sure it wasn’t him so just your mind would relax and you could control your anxiety.
That’s why you were zooming the binoculars to the maximum and focusing solely on him, expecting him to look to a side so you could clearly see his face. He did, and when he did your heart stopped for some milliseconds and you thought all the air was drawn from your lungs. “Holly shit!” Was the only thing you were able to say, so glad now you could openly curse, because there wasn’t any child around.
“What’s it?” Aaron asked curiously and you passed him the binoculars unable to say anything. He looked at it, zooming out and couldn’t see anything extraordinary. “I don’t see anything. What did you see?”
You rested your back on the trunk of the tree that you were both sitting on its branch. You tried to breath in and out, just like your therapist had recommended you when you started to treat you’re anxiety.
“Y/N, what happened?” Aaron asked again turning his attention to you and holding your hand, which you accepted gratefully.
“I… I think my ex is in this group.” Oh my God. You were freaking out! It wasn’t as if you had ended bad, well it depends on the point of view, but seeing him after all this years, after all that happened, after…
“You think?” Aaron asked one more time, if it was your ex why you sounded like you were not completely sure.
“Yes, it was a long time ago. We were barely adults, so we changed a lot, but I’m 98% sure the archer is him.” You said continuing your exercise and taking your canteen with shaking hands to drink some water.
“Oh… let me check him out and see if you have good taste in men.”
“Aaron!” You protested the most silently you could. “Well, you may surprise a little when you see him, he is…”
“… DJ’s father! Holly crap!” He looked at you as if he had seen a ghost as the man looked exactly like the teenager boy he knew back in Alexandria, of course the man was way older than the boy. “Do you have an uterus or a copy machine in your belly?”
“Ok, if even you can see it’s totally him.” You said and you didn’t know if you were relieved or anxious, probably both at the same time.
“Ok, so… is he a good person to take with us?” He had to ask, even though you were good friends, you never talked much about him, it seemed to hurt you a lot, so he never pushed.
“Yes, of course. Don’t think I’d have named my child after him if he wasn’t.” You answered. It wasn’t his fault or yours, you just had to blame people like your parents that thought they were better than everyone else. “It’s just that it has been so long after last time we saw each other, I’m just nervous to meet him again.”
You tried approaching them by letting water and food as a gift for them on the road, but they just rejected everything, they were suspicious, they probably went through a lot of shit. You don’t blame them, you’d react the same if it was you. A heavy storm caught you by surprise, you needed to find shelter and protect yourselves. Once you saw the group entered a barn, you decided to go back to your RV and wait the next day or the storm pass before approaching them more directly this time.
The next morning the weather had improved, so you left again to where they were. At distance you saw two women near to the location of the barn, you approached them and presented yourselves and minutes later both of you were on your knees, hands behind your heads and an angry man in front of you. But before the said angry man could do anything or ask anything, the archer came from the shadows and your name left his lips. “Y/N”
“Daryl.” You replied a smile on your face, you wanted to keep a more straight face don’t be so pathetic about how you were happy to see him there alive, older and hotter, but you couldn’t, because it had always been like that, you’d see him and you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. You’d open the biggest smile at him and would have your heart racing with excitement and anxiety.
“Do you know each other?” The angry man asked Daryl, but you replied. You couldn’t hold your tongue, you were anxious and when it was like that, you’d say even what you weren’t meant to say.
“We dated.” You answered, also you knew that Daryl would die of shyness if he had to say you dated or anything like this. That’s if deep inside him he was still that boy.
The man you came to know the name was Rick Grimes shot you a look that said ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ and then looked back at Daryl in hopes he would confirm it or not. “Yeah, it’s true.”
“If she’s his ex, she’s no good. We should better don’t believe them.” You saw a ginger man with a big mustache speaking.
“Listen here, Obelix. You better not bad mouth me again or I’ll beat you so hard your mustache is going to end on your ass!” You were normally sweet and polite, but you’d never let anyone judge you, or anyone that you loved, especially this person that doesn’t even know you.
“Definitely related to Daryl.” An asian man said and couldn’t contain a small laugh, even in the state the group was.
Daryl had a smirk on his face and you couldn’t read what it meant. The Rick guy didn’t took it easy on you just because Daryl knew you, he argument people could change and he wasn’t wrong. Most of the time he hold the conversation with Aaron and you were glad about it, Aaron was better at this than you were, even though you could bring a sense of comfort most of the times when you approached women or groups with children, this wasn’t a situation where Aaron actually needed you. Unless they decided to kill both of you or something else, then you’d have to play the last card you could with them and that could only be used with them, because of Daryl. You’d need to use your son to convince them to let you go, and you’d hate to do such thing. Using your son to blackmail someone was never something you’d like to do.
You remembered the day you first had the courage to talk to him, you had always thought he was cute and cool, but you never had the courage. Until a day your “friends” excluded you and you didn’t even got to know why. You were 16 and they were so immature to do such thing, so yeah, it was their loss you thought. That’s what you tried to say and convince yourself you were better without them.
At lunch time having no table to sit, you went straight to his table, that was it, your opportunity to get to know him. “Can I have a sit here?” You asked in front of him.
“ ‘m not the owner of the chair.” He said, eyes on his plate. “But ya won’t want to be seen with me sweetheart.”
“Thanks.” You put your tray on the table and took the chair in front of him. “I’m Y/N.”
“Daryl. We already know each other. We had a subject together. Once.” He remembered! You were ecstatic, of course you’d remember him, you developed a huge crush on him since you had to pair up, but you didn’t expect him to remember you. You didn’t think you were as cool as the other girls to be remembered. “Ya still have time to maintain the integrity of yer reputation and leave.”
“I have no reputation to save, my friends simply decided I’m not cool anymore, so… fuck them, gonna make whatever I want.” He snorted, he never thought he’d live to see you cuss. You never looked like one to do so. “What’s funny?”
“Thought you never cussed.”
“Well, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me Dixon.” You replied and from this time you started to pass more and more time together, starting a strange friendship that was the commonest thing for both of you, but people outside loved to judge.
Most of the time they were discussing, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. It was as if you did, he’d disappear into thin air. In the end Rick sent a group to your RV to confirm if you were telling the truth and threatened killing you if they took too long to comeback. After they came back, Rick agreed to go to Alexandria but they would drive and you should tell them where it was, and then started again another drama.
“How are we supposed to trust you? Maybe you got another group and a radio and you’re going to attack our place. We have children and elders, we can’t risk.” You tried to reason with him, even though you knew you were in a small number and you’d never win this ‘battle’.
“Don’t you trust Daryl?” Rick threw this card. Really?
“How am I supposed to when you didn’t believe me and he did nothing to tell you were wrong and I could be trusted?” He knew you were right, not even for a second you thought Daryl wasn’t the same, but you had a point and even he knew it.
In the end you had no option but give in to their requests. You took them to the nearest city so you could take Eric too and while fighting against walkers he got his ankle hurt. Not longer after you got back to the road and in direction of Alexandria. While going there you tried to make some small talk with them, but most were not very open to it.
“What’s her name?” You asked Daryl that had a beautiful baby in his arms.
“ ‘s Judith.” He answered, he looked at her with such adoration. It was adorable to see such a big and rustic man being so tender with a baby in his arms.
“She’s so pretty.” You always wanted a baby girl, but of course you were more than happy with your baby boy. It was just a silly girl dream to have a daughter so you can play doll with them. “Can I hold her a little? There’s a long time I don’t get to hold a baby.”
Despite the common silent agreement of the group to not trust you just yet, he trusted you and was sure you’d do nothing against his ‘lil ass kicker’. So he let you have her a little in your arms and she continued to sleep peacefully. Carl observed you with the eyes of a hawk, ready to end you if you did anything wrong against his little sister, but you didn’t.
“Is your family with ya?” Daryl drawled by your side while you were mesmerized by little Jude. He wanted to know if your asshole of dad was still around and also your mom, but he couldn’t ask it like this, he didn’t know how your relation with them were after everything, he didn’t want to offend you.
“It’s just me and my son, but he’s not this cute anymore and I no longer can carry him in my arms like that.” You replied, wishing he’d have curiosity about DJ, but also afraid of where this curiosity could take you in this moment.
“What’s his name?” He asked trying to be polite, but deep down it hurt him that you had another lover and had a child, he couldn’t control this, but it was painful anyway.
“DJ.” You simply said, god you didn’t want to reveal at this moment your baby was Daryl Dixon Junior. Before he could ask the name and not the nickname, you threw another question at him. “Did you get any of my letters?”
He was taken aback. You tried to keep contact with him. You tried to reach him out. “Did ya send me letters? I… Ididn’t know. I left with Merle shortly after what happened. Probably old man got them.”
By his surprise you believed he really didn’t know. He never read the letters. He never ignored you or pretended your son didn’t exist. Deep down, you knew he’d never do that, but you never could confirm it, because you never got to see him again. Until now.
A little after Carl took Judith from your arms, you already had enough. He couldn’t let you more than you were supposed to with the baby. While your mind wandered to the past, Daryl’s were a turmoil trying to decipher what could be the name of your son, since you gave no detail.
The day prior he had warned you ‘wear sneakers tomorrow, you asked why and he just repeated what he said before. So you did. There was almost a year since your friendship with Daryl Dixon started and at that moment, he was your best friend. Sometimes he’d stay with you studying in the library or just hanging out around the city. You trusted him.
Next day, you arrived at school and found him next to an old blue truck. “What’s that?”
“A car.” He answered the obvious.
“I know dumbass! But where did you get it?” You asked curiously, he had never gone to school in one.
“I borrowed it from Merle without telling him.” Which means he stole his own brother, at least for some hours. “I’m returning it later, probably won’t even know about it. He’s knocked out in his bedroom.”
“Ok, if he catch us, I’m telling it was all you.” You played with him, but you knew Merle would never catch you, at least not before Daryl arrived at home with it.
“It actually was.” He shrugged. “Also, no way he’d believe a sweet thing like you helped me in any of that.” You instantly blushed, it wasn’t always that Daryl would throw sweet words or compliments at you, so every time you’d not fail and blush. “Did ya wear sneakers?”
“Yep.” You put one foot in front of you to show your sneakers.
“Pink? Really?” He teased you, he knew for sure you’d wear at least one thing pink and you were always wearing sandals or any other more delicate shoes.
“I don’t have many sneakers, so… yeah.” You retracted your foot to stand close to the other again.
As soon as the bell rang you entered the school and went to your classes. In the end of the day, you got together at the parking lot ready to spend your day together. “Where are we going?” You asked curiously.
“Get in the car and you’ll see.” He replied going to the driver’s side.
“Ok, Dar. I’ll let you be all mysterious while I die out of curiosity.” You dramatically entered the truck and took the passenger sit.
You drove for some time and even got outside the city. You knew he was familiarized with the forest, he told you he’d hunt, but you never thought he’d bring you someday near it. “You know I know shit about hunting, don’t you?” You asked while the car stopped close to a small trail.
“Yep, dun worry. I didn’t bring ya here to go hunting. It’s something else, wanna show you a place.” He slightly touched your hand reassuring you and you could swear it sent a delicious tingling sensation all over your body.
He got out of the truck, took a bag in the truck bed and waited for you so you could start the trail. There was 5 minutes you were walking when you tripped and almost fell down, leading to the boy to hold your hand until you arrived at your final destination.
It was a waterfall, a beautiful one, with a small lake. The water was a beautiful green surrounded by big rocks. You got all excited with the sight and gave your biggest smile to him, which made his heart flutter and stole a small smile from him.
You took your sneakers off and both of you sat on a rock where you could put your feet in the cold refreshing water. There was the shadow of a tree that made it bearable to be outside there in the warm weather. You loved how Daryl was relaxed and just enjoying the place and your company, you could talk a lot or talk nothing and it would be perfect for him.
You don’t know what made you do that, but the moment just felt perfect to speak your mind to him, actually speak with your heart. “I like you, Daryl.”
“Yeah, we’re friends of course ya do.” It was obvious if you didn’t you wouldn’t be around.
“No, I like you in the way I’ve been crushing on you for years and just now I have the courage to say, yay…” you said, trying to be a little funny so the moment wouldn’t be so embarrassing, but it would be already too embarrassing if he just rejected you at that moment.
He looked at you impressed and thinking how you could like him for so long if everybody in the school, no, in the damn city thought he was a sore loser and a scumbag. “Are ya sure?” He double checked, just in case.
“I wouldn’t put myself in this embarrassing situation with risk of you rejecting me and losing your friendship if I didn’t.” You turned to look at him and were struck by his deep blue eyes that seemed to see your soul every time you looked into it. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, I’ll…”
Before you could finish your apologetic sentence, his lips crashed on yours and his hand held yours one more time, and that was the first of many kisses you’d come to share in the following years.
You woke up startled, the RV came to a stop. You were finally at the gates of Alexandria, you and Aaron got off first and the rest of the group followed you and once the gates were open you could see that at the same time they were cautious they were also impressed with the place. You entered the gate and Deanna came to welcome the new people. Aaron took Eric to the infirmary and before you could excuse yourself and go home take a good bath and spend some quality time with your child, you saw the tall teenager in his 17s running in your direction. You suddenly worried, he would see him. Both of them would see each other. You smiled at your baby boy that wasn’t a baby anymore, and he hugged you tightly even taking you from the ground. He had became so tall in the last years that it was funny to see the difference of his height to his mom’s.
Daryl was frozen in place, when he saw the young man running in your direction it was as if he could see his younger self in the past, but he wasn’t hallucinating or anything like that, because that boy that looked so much like him had also many features from you. The group looked surprised at the boy, probably thinking the same thing Aaron thought when he landed his eyes at Daryl. A million thoughts ran on the hunter’s mind, this kid just could be his… he had too because no way someone could look so much like the other and don’t be blood related, especially being the son of your youth lover.
“How are you baby?” You asked cupping DJ’s face with your hand and checking his face to see if he was healthy and well.
“I’m ok mom, are you good?” He asked back observing you, he had always been such a good observer.
“We need to talk…” you started to say but couldn’t finish because the boy’s eyes landed on Daryl some meters behind looking at both of you.
DJ knew, you told him before how he looked so much like his dad. So he knew when he looked strictly to an older version of him. He put you aside and walked strong steps on Daryl’s direction, you yelled his name but he just ignored you and before you could stop him, he punched his father right on his jaw.
“DJ! No!” You put yourself between both of them.
“No? Mom! He never cared about us and now he just shows here like this? He ignored all the letters you sent and the pictures of me, and…” he bursted the feelings trapped on his chest all those years. He had the perfect speech on his mind, he elaborated it for years just to end his father and make him ashamed of what he did, but now he didn’t even say half of it and the rest stayed stuck in his throat unable to come out as tears accumulated in his blue eyes.
“It’s ok. I probably deserve it.” Daryl said from behind.
“Honey, it’s not like this. We don’t solve anything like this. You don’t know the whole story.” You rested your hands on your son’s shoulders.
“You mean the edited version of how he never cared about us, or looked for us? I know you never told me everything, I’m not stupid. And I also know men are bastards that don’t care about discarding pregnant women!” Shit. Shit. Shit. Things were getting out of control the boy was causing a scene.
“Listen to me, Daryl Dixon Junior! I’m your mother and I’d never name you after your father if he was this kind of bastard!” You firmly told him, there were so many years that you didn’t call him by his whole name that he knew he would be in trouble if he didn’t obey you at that moment. “Now, apologize, go home and wait for me.”
“Fine.” The young man said teeth greeted. “I’m sorry for punching you because you’re an asshole.” With that he turned around and left before you could lecture him one more time in front of everyone.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Daryl asked. Obviously not talking about the past, it was clear to him that you tried in the past.
“I wouldn’t dare use my son to bring you to safety. I know you’d come if I said, and your group… I know this kind of bond, you’re family. I didn’t want to be selfish and make all of you come because I used DJ to convince you. I wanted you to come because you wanted, because you trusted what Aaron and I were offering.”
He couldn’t understand well about it, he wasn’t a father till some minutes ago… even though he wished he was one long before, the kid really had a personality, reminding him a lot about himself and even about Merle. But he could try to understand, to listen to you and if he stopped to think, it didn’t made a difference if you told before or now, he would still have the same feeling of anxiety, excitement and lost, lost for all the years and everything that he lost not being around his son.
“I’m sorry you had to discover like that.” You apologized even though you knew in no way it would be less shocking for him. “We have a lot to talk, the three of us… of course, if you want to.”
“Yeah, we need to talk. I wanna know everything and I wanna know him, if ya allow me and if he wants.” He was quick to answer. God, how could you even give him a choice? He had to do it.
“Great. So… I’m gonna let you finish solving things with Deanna, when you are free, come to my house. It’s the one with the magenta pink doormat.” You give some steps backwards, eyes still on him.
“Pink, hugh…” he knew everything with you needed to have a little of pink and for sure with the end of the world you could not afford pink acessories, at least you’d make sure that one thing in your life was.
“Yes…” you almost murmured. “I’ll see you later.”
“See ya…” he replied.
Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)
Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325
Dividers by @cafekitsune
#daryl dixon#the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#twd#twd daryl#daryl x reader#daryl x y/n#daryl fanfiction#daryl imagines#the walking dead daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl#daryl x you#deansapplepie
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Hi again first you're a teacher?? Me too soon 😂
Anyway I thought of another weird idea
A child that can see dead people 🏃♀️ and he sees corazon when he's with law
Or any other character
I will write a lot of ideas sorry if it's annoying 😅
🐼💕~
A/N:I am a teacher! Im a preschool teacher, that is why writing this in that aspect is really easy because I see their behaviors and shenanigans everyday. What grade will you be teaching??
Also, absolutely not! I love your ideas they are incredible, it will never be annoying trust me, receiving these makes me giggle and kick my feet like a little girl
Dividers by @/saradika
Clumsy Ghostly Guardians ( Law x gn!child!reader x Corazon)
“Dad, Dad!” The child could be seen once again running through the hallways of the submarine, their screams bouncing off the walls as they ran towards their father
Law looks up from his reading as the familiar sound of his child's footsteps approaches him. He sighs, returning his attention back to the medical journal in his hands.
“What is it?”
“Dad, who is the tall ghost who always follows you around?”
“Tall ghost who always follows me around?”
Law puts down his book to give his child his full attention
“What do they look like?”
He watches as the child changes their focus from him to next to him, attentively staring at something
“He’s really tall, he has funny lips, he has a big coat, and he falls a lot too.”
Law's brows furrow as he is genuinely confused by his child's words. However, Law gets a strange feeling in his gut that what they are seeing is none other than Corazon
“…Did they tell you their name?”
“He said his name was Rosinante, but he said you call him Corazon.”
Law's jaw hangs open as he stares at his child. Law never told his child about Corazón, and the fact that reader knows his real name and even his alias...
When the child had eaten the yuta-yuta fruit, the possibility was always at the back of his mind, but he had always brushed it off, thinking that Corazon was either following Doflamingo or Sengoku.
“...how long have you seen him?”
“Since I ate yuta-yuta”
“Since you ate the....”
Law's face goes pale with shock. He has a look of disbelief on his face
“...did he talk to you?”
“Mmhm, he said dad was the cutest when small, said you still have a gloomy expression now.”
Law's expression softens, and he sits down next to his child, trying to process everything that has occurred. He puts a hand on their head, ruffling their hair
“...what else did he say?”
“He said he’s glad you’re safe, what does that mean dad?”
Law shakes his head, trying to keep his emotions under control. He did not expect to encounter such profound news today. Law turns his attention back to his child and gives them a tight smile.
“...he means that he is happy we are safe. Did he say anything else?”
Law strokes their hair with his thumb
“He said that he is proud of you
Law's cheeks blush as tears stream down his face.
“Ah! Dad, why are you crying? Corazon, do something! You made Dad cry, meanie!”
Law covers his face with his sleeve; he struggles to regain his composure. Eventually, his heart starts to slow, and the tears stop
“Don’t worry about it; I’m just happy, Reader-ya.”
“Ah, Corazon fell again”
“Seriusly?!” He groans
So I did made this gender neutral but in Japan a Yuta is a female spirit medium and I couldn’t find a word for medium that would fall within that 4 or 3 alliteration format that the fruits have other than with yuta, and even that was stretching it but yeah, just wanted to let you guys know 😂.
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
#one piece x reader#one piece#one piece x child!reader#one piece fluff#one piece imagine#trafalgar d law x child!reader#trafalgar d law x you#law x child!reader#law scenario#trafalgar d water law#law imagine#corazon#donquixote rosinante#one piece rosinante#rosinante corazon#trafalgar d law x reader#law one piece#law x reader#trafalgar law#one piece gn#one piece x gender neutral reader#one piece x gn reader#law x gn reader
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Ace: Okay. No one had expected the party was going to be a blast.
Epel: Both in literal and figurative sense.
Ace, Deuce, Epel, Ortho, and Jack: *laughing*
Jack: And who would've thought that MC-senpai's sister and Ruggie would click?
Ace: Like, bruh! I still remember their conversation!
Ace: "Is MC-senpai looking for a brother-in-law?"
Ace: "They don't. But I'm looking for a boyfriend. Are you available?" *claps, laughing*
Epel: By the way, we'd only seen senpai when the party was about to end.
Jack: Yes. And I think they have injured their left eye.
Ortho: I wonder what happened.
Malleus: Didn't I tell you to be careful?
MC: *has returned with a bleeding eye and deep scratches on their arms and neck* *giggles*
MC: The souls I have arrived to were too excited~.
Malleus: ...
Malleus: Let me patch you up.
MC: Hm~? Has your mom left already~?
Malleus: Yes. She didn't want you to see her off.
MC: Eh~.
Malleus: Oh and, you've decided on Rosehearts and Schoenheit?
MC: Hmm~ *giggles* Riddle will never be my option~. He's too young~.
MC: And will die easily because of stress~.
Malleus: That's... *sigh* How about Schoenheit?
MC: If it's Vil~ Hehe~ He's a fine choice~ But~ I'll be too possessive~.
Malleus: You're worried that you would be too possessive for Schoenheit?
MC: *nods then giggles* Wouldn't anyone be~?
Malleus: ...
Malleus: I'm surprised with your self-awareness.
MC: *touches his face with their bloody hands*
Malleus: *frowns* Hey.
MC: *giggles*
Malleus: *sigh*
Silver: MC's parents are amazing.
Lilia: Indeed. I don't think anyone would do what they have done for the sake of love.
Sebek: That's just pure insanity! And I don't even understand the explanation at all!
Sebek: How could they be both half-dead?!
Silver: MC's father had died long ago, but for some reason, his body never decomposed. And their mother, who was an infamous necromancer, found him and fell in love at first sight.
Sebek: I understood that part! What I'm trying to say is how were they able to produce offsprings?!
Silver: ...
Silver: Oh. You have a point with that, Sebek. *turns to look at Lilia*
Silver: Do you know how that is possible, father?
Lilia: Yes. But you're still innocent to know.
The Ramshackle students: Housewarden! How is your eye?
MC: It's fine~ But it feels really itchy~.
Grim: Don't think of plucking that out, mryah!
MC: *giggles* Why~ Its string is still connected to the socket~.
Grim: Just don't!
MC: Okay~. If you could distract me~.
The Ramshackle students: We will study hard so we can get the first place in rankings!
MC: Eh~ That's a nice proposal~.
MC: But if one of you fails~ Would you like to receive my eyeball as a reward~?
The Ramshackle students: N-No, housewarden...
MC: *giggles* Fail or not~ All I want you to do is enjoy school~ Like how I enjoy my stay here~.
The Ramshackle students: *sniffles* Yes, housewarden!
Grim: You're awfully nice today. *looking at them suspiciously*
MC: Well~ The next couple of months will be a torture~.
The Ramshackle students: That's still fine, housewarden!
MC: *giggles*
#twisted wonderland#twst mc#twst malleus#twst ace#twst deuce#twst epel#twst jack#twst ortho#twst sebek#twst silver#twst lilia#twst grim#blithesome!mc
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Three for One 2
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: The ho-lidays are the daddies and the baddies.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
You bob around to the tinkling of carols as they waft over the store. Unlike your coworkers, you enjoy the repetitive tunes. They are so fun and bright and help the time pass between customers and stocking. Not that there isn't more than enough to keep you busy.
In the rare moment where you aren't distracted, you let yourself browse the colourful lipsticks and shining perfume bottles all around. You don't have anyone to shop for, not even yourself. You have your dollar store glosses and discount nail polishes. You don't see the need to spend too much on those things. Or maybe you just prefer what you know. Simple and cheap.
Around lunchtime, traffic really picks up. Several customers ignore your approach and brush by you before you can entice them into buying some Chanel. You've already hit your sales targets but you never really think of numbers.
A woman stops you and asks for a very specific palette. You know just the one. You think it's cute, it looks like a cupcake, and while you adore the aesthetic, it isn't worth the price tag. It's just powder!
You show her where it is and Luanne comes over to take the reins. She's the makeup genius, her flawless contour is proof enough. You turn to float back to your zone and see a man watching you. You recognise him! Vaguely. You see a lot of people in a day.
"Good afternoon," you sing as you near him, "anything I can help you with?"
His throat bobs as he cheek ticks, "uh, yeah, er..." he pushes back his gray jacket, tucking his hands in his pants pockets, "you remember me?"
You smile as you try not to show your cluelessness, "I think..."
"I came in last week," he says.
You think, scrunching up your face as you tap your chin, "yes! You bought Liz Taylor for you mother."
"Mother-in-law," he corrects you, not unkindly.
"Yes, that's it," you jab your finger upwards, "you complimented my sweater."
"Yeah, that was me," He finally smiles, "anyway, I was thinking of getting a gift for my wife. Just a little stocking stuffer."
"Oh, that sounds so cute," you nearly squee. You get so excited to help people shop for a loved one. At the same time, you feel that void. Maybe one day you'll have a husband thinking of you. "We have some great gift sets, actually. They come with different scents so you're wife can figure out which one she likes best." You direct him over to a shelf, "oh, and if she has a favourite, you can get her a full bottle for Valentine's!"
He gives you a look. His eyes narrow just a bit and his cheeks round, "that's a good idea."
He glances over the shelf and you wait patiently. He turns back to you, his eyes flitting over your name tag as he reads it out, "do you have a suggestion?"
"Me?" You perk up, "well, I actually like the Coach. It's not too expensive and it's nice and subtle."
"Is that what you wear?" He asks.
"I don't... I use some cherry blossom body spray but I usually smell like the whole store by the end of the day," you shrug.
"Cherry blossom," he nods, "oh, by the way, I'm Andy."
He offers his hand in an overly formal way. You giggle but take it nonetheless. You don't really get that often.
"Sorry," he squeezes your hand firmly before letting go, "lawyer, habit."
"No, it's fine," you assure him, "I'm just a perfume salesman, is all."
"Well, you're really good at your job," he praises.
"How do you know?" You say.
"You're friendly and helpful. I have no complaints," he reaches past you and claims the Coach pack, "she's going to love this. I owe you."
"No problem. Do you need me to ring you up?"
"Actually," he sighs, "she has this idea. Christmas card. I'm supposed to find a sweater. So, I need to look around some more."
"Oh, that's so cool. A Christmas card? The sweaters are just over in the men's, right near the east entrance," you point, "they have some really cute Charlie Brown ones."
"Charlie Brown," he repeats.
"Anyway, I'll let you go," you clutch your hands together, "I hope your wife likes the perfume."
"I'm sure she will," he agrees, hesitantly clapping the kit between his hands, "uh, thanks. Again." He leans back on his heel, "oh and, that's a really nice colour on you."
"Uh," you look down at your gem green blouse, "thank you, sir."
"Andy," he insists, walking backwards, "again, you're a life saver."
You grin proudly and he spins on his heel, nearly knocking into Luanne as she comes over. He apologises as he side steps her and continues on. She gives you a strange look.
"Geez," she grumbles, "people. This time of year makes everyone so crazy."
"Well, he was nice," you say.
"Kinda cute, too," she intones.
"He was shopping for his wife."
"Lucky lady," she scoffs, "so, you wanna go on lunch first? I'm dying for a latte."
"You can go, I don't mind," you say, "I'm not very hungry."
"Deal," she winks, "I'll get you a hot chocolate for your trouble."
"You don't have to do that."
"I don't have to, I want to, sweetie," she preens.
"Fine, fine, I accept your coerced hot chocolate.”
🎀
Another day close to complete. It's like checking off items on a list. Each evening seems to darken sooner than the last, every morning rising too soon.
You yawn at the empty fragrance section as it’s only you left for the last hour. There isn't much to do except balance the till. Your headset keeps you entertained as electronics calls out possible shrink and home goods argue about their numbers.
“We need a body at returns,” Lucille cuts through the chatter. “Now.”
No answer comes and you slowly slide your hand up the wire. Before you can hit the button, your name is snarled from the other end. You're ordered up to cash to assist with the hordes.
You leave the ghost town that is beauty and as good as skip up to the front. You calm your step as you see Lucille sneering at you from behind a machine. You give a tiny smile and claim the extra screen behind returns.
“I can help the next person,” you call and wave your hand in the air.
You stand back and wait for your first customer. A man comes up and throws a torn open package on the counter, the item bouncing out of the plastic. You flinch and barely catch it before it can slide off the other edge.
“Hello, sir,” you bat your lashes, “how are you today?”
“Not fucking well,” the man snarls. His mustache tickles your memory; do you know him? “It’s a piece of shit.”
“Oh, okay,” you look down at the trimmer and examine it, “you’d like to do a return?”
“Yes, I’d like to do a return,” he snaps, “are you dim?”
“Of course, sir,” you punch in your ID and passcode, “I’ll just get you going. Do you have your receipt?”
“A receipt? I bought the damn thing here, look it up.”
“Ah, alright, when did you buy it?”
“You don’t remember, little trigger finger,” he sneers.
“What do you mean?”
“Pfft, right, you think spraying people with skunk spray is fun?”
“Um, no?” Your cheeks tremor as you withhold a frown; you think you know him now as you’re hit by a sudden wave of Gucci cologne, the scent of a memory. “Did you have the card you purchased this with?”
“You don’t think I have money?”
Everything he says is aggressive. Your questions bounce off him like accusations. You don’t know what to say that won’t agitate him further, He huffs and kicks a foot out, leaning on his back heel as he reaches in his back pocket.
He flicks a black card onto the counter, “put it back on this.”
You nod and take the card, examining the nameless front. You turn it over and swipe it in the machine instead to search the number. He scoffs, “bet you never seen one of those up close.”
“Sir,” you smile bigger, letting the insult ping off of you. All the money in the world and he has no manners.
You find the purchase with the same sku and put his card back on the counter. He snatches it up as you start the return. You scan the barcode and continue on to the next screen, “what’s your name, sir?”
“Lloyd,” he answers curtly. You type, waiting, then look up at him, “Hansen.” He finishes sharply, “with an E, got it?”
“Yes, sir, and the reason for return?”
He rolls his eyes, “it doesn’t fucking work.”
“Alright. So it doesn’t cut the hair or–”
“It won’t turn on,” he growls.
“Right,” you take the trimmer and turn it over. It looks fine enough, even after he threw it. You slip the door of the battery compartment off. It’s empty, “and you had double As in it?”
“Double As?” He repeats.
“It needs batteries, sir.”
He pauses, eyes flaring, nostrils flaring.
“You think I’m stupid? That I don’t fucking know that? You’re not getting free fucking batteries from me.”
“Of course, sir, of course,” you rarely feel this addled, even this time of year, “I’ll get you your money back on a gift card–”
“Gift card? I want my money,” he holds up his card between two fingers.
“Yes, sir, I understand. As per our return policy, personal care items, once opened, are only eligible for a store credit return. Or you can exchange for another item. Would you like to look at our other trimmers? I can put this aside while–”
“What? How would I know that?” He hisses.
“It says on the receipt, sir.”
“I don’t have the goddamn receipt,” he barks.
“I know, sir, sorry. I can only refund this amount on a gift card. I can’t override the option.”
“I want a manager. NOW!” He demands as you jump in your shoes.
“I… I’ll see if she’s avail–”
Lucille has you jumping even more as she appears beside you, no doubt drawn by the raging man in front of you. She elbows you out of the way, not even acknowledging you as she puts on her mask. She leans on the counter just slightly.
“Sir, is there something I can help with? I’m the manager,” she says.
“I want my money,” he echoes once more. “I bought a defective product and I don’t want store credit. I drove out here twice for this bullshit.”
“Oh, certainly sir,” she brushes you with her hip, further edging you out, “right back on that black card, right?”
She scans her keycard, overriding the safeguard, and proceeds to the refund screen.
“Yes, exactly,” he snorts, “not like I don’t have even more money to spend here. Even if the customer service is lacking.”
You back away, unsure what to do. Do you just stand there for the transaction or do you go back to your department? You twiddle your fingers and bob on your heels.
Your eyes meet that man’s and he smirks smugly, wiggly his credit card at you. It’s fine, you won’t let him ruin your day. He’s already ruined his own getting so worked up.
🎀
It’s another busy shift. Your hot chocolate has gone cold from your neglect and you long to sneak away and shove it in the break room microwave. You can’t mourn the lukewarm drink as the line before you stretches on. You’re only a week from Christmas.
You finish wrapping the Prada bottle and hand it over the iron-haired woman with her cute curls. You wish her a good day as she waddles off. The next customer comes up, slamming down a cup so hard, the foam of the drink spits through the slot in the lid.
“Hello, sir,” you croon, “how are you today?”
“Here for a pickup,” he ignores your question.
“Right, can I get a name?”
“Why?” He challenges.
“For… for the package,” you sputter.
“Oh, uh, Drysdale,” he sniffs.
“I saw that earlier. I’m the one who called,” you brighten up.
“So you’re the annoying songbird,” he grabs his drink again, “took you fucking long enough. Line’s a mile long.”
“It’s very busy, yes. Everyone’s catching up on their Christmas shopping,” you bounce, “are you almost done yours?”
“Yeah, I bought myself cologne. So, chop chop, sweetheart.”
You nod and quickly spin. People get so impatient. You go into the small back room housed behind the shelves of lockup and you search the shelves. Drysdale. You pluck up the box and hurry back out.
“Right here,” you announce, “I have good news, too.”
“Tell me you’re gonna stop yammering,” he snickers.
“Um, no, the uh… the cologne is currently on markdown so I can do a price match and give you your money back.”
“Why would you do that?” He asks.
“Er, because… it’s policy?”
“You think I can’t afford it?”
“N-no, I didn’t say–”
“Look, I don’t need some department store busy bee to judge me, got it? This scarf costs more than your whole wardrobe,” he touches the patterned scarf around his neck.
“It’s a very nice scarf,” you agree.
He narrows his eyes, “you’re mocking me.”
You shake your head, “no, sir, I like the colours–”
“Give my goddamn package," he reaches and rips the box out of your hands, “and a tip, shut up and do your job. Maybe then you won’t have half the city waiting to get their shit.”
“Thanks,” you swallow down his anger. “Have a great day, sir.”
He doesn’t reply as he takes his cologne and storms away. You watch him and notice his cup still beside your till. It’s too late to call him back. You’ll just put it aside, you’re sure he’ll come back for it.
You move it to the other end of the counter and face the next customer, “hello, how are you?”
“Good,” the blonde woman answers with a gentle smile, “some people…” she tuts, “don’t let the grinches get to you, honey.”
“Thanks,” you feel the ice melt away, “I won’t.”
“Adorable cardigan,” she adds, “I really love the collar.”
“Oh, thank you,” you trill, “is this everything for today?” You gesture to the bottle of Calvin Klein on the counter.
“That will be it. And I’d love to have it gift-wrapped, thank you, hon.”
#andy barber#dark andy barber#lloyd hansen#ransom drysdale#dark lloyd ranson#dark ransom drysdale#dark!andy barber#dark!lloyd hansen#dark!ransom drysdale#andy barber x reader#lloyd hansen x reader#ransom drysdale x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#au#multicharacter#multifandom#knives out#the gray man#defending jacob#series#three for one
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Can you write about Luke Hughes being in a long-time relationship with a girl who is a figure skater, she goes to a competition where she wins first place and he is there with his parents supporting her, so a couple of days later when he is doing press someone asks him about it and he is like a proud boyfriend speaking about how he feels and how his family supports her too. Please, I love your writing.💕
gold medalist
pairing: luke hughes x figure skater!reader
a/n: my first fic for an NHL player! i haven't written a fic in a WHILE so i hope this is decent. also thank u anon <3
You were currently competing in the 2024 World Figure Skating Championship in Montreal. Your parents sadly were unable to make the event, the biggest event you've even been part of. Luckily for you, your boyfriend Luke and his parents had come to support you.
They looked beyond excited to watch you perform, especially Luke, who had never seen you perform before due to his hectic schedule. They were extremely supportive and could barely contain their excitement during your performance. It was moving and you looked so elegant as you glided across the ice so effortlessly.
Finally, the competition had ended and the results were ready to be revealed. You listened and applauded as the other competitors' names were called for 2nd and 3rd place, which made the butterflies in your stomach even worse. You thought you did great, but you'd also seen your competitors perform, and you were taken aback by their beautiful performances, leaving you to think that you didn't place at all.
"And the winner of the 2024 World Figure Skating Championship is... Y/N L/N!" The announcer shouted as the entire arena jumped up with cheers.
You had not processed the words that just came out of the announcers mouth. You were frozen, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you stood in the middle of the ice. You snapped out of your daze, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks as you took it all in. You did it. You did the damn thing.
"Thank you everyone! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I am so happy! This is such a surreal moment. I can't believe any of this is happening" You exclaimed as the announcer handed you the microphone and the judges had given you flowers and your gold medal.
Moments later, you were free to meet up with Luke and his parents. The second they saw you, Luke ran to you and carried you into his arms. He held you tight and kissed your head repeatedly.
"Y/N, baby, I'm so proud of you. I love you so much, don't ever doubt yourself" He said to you, his eyes brimming with tears.
"I won't. I promise" You replied, kissing him gently on the lips.
His parents soon approached you and they were both cheering as loudly as possible for their daughter-in-law.
"Y/N we are so proud of you honey! You deserve this, you really do. Congratulations" Luke's mother said as she hugged you tightly. She pulled back and wiped away the tears from her face.
"Now go get changed! We're going to celebrate tonight!" Luke's father added as he walked off to tell everyone else about your win.
A few days later, you were back in New Jersey, seeing as Luke had a game and you had never failed to miss a single one since you started dating all those years ago.
Luke was currently doing press while you were at your shared apartment tidying up before you headed to the game. You turned on the tv to watch the press conference while you cleaned.
You were in the process of cleaning the counter when you looked at the tv to find your own image on the screen, along with Luke and his parents.
"Luke we have to ask. Your amazingly talented girlfriend Y/n recently competed in the World Figure Skating Championship and won the first place prize. What was going through your head in that moment when her name was called?" A reporter asked the 6'2 man, holding her mic towards him.
"Well, I just felt nothing short of complete pride. My beautiful girlfriend competed magnificently and did the most amazing job she possibly could. There was no question in my mind that she would take home first place, she deserved every bit of that trophy. I am so proud of her. Her dedication to the sport and hard work really paid off and it was very rewarding to witness. I'm so glad I got to be there with her to cheer her on. It's moments like these that remind me how lucky I am to have her" Luke responded confidently.
The reporters questions continued as he began asking more specific questions about your relationship and how things were between you two now.
You smiled when you heard him say 'my beautiful girlfriend', 'lucky I am' and 'her dedication'. You couldn't help but feel extremely loved when he spoke like that about you. He was so genuine, and it showed through everything he did and said.
"One final question Luke. We saw that your parents were there to help you cheer Y/n on from the stands. What did they think about Y/n's win?" The reporter then asked him.
"My parents were ecstatic. They had such an awesome time watching her compete. Mom couldn't stop telling me how incredibly happy she was, and dad said it was absolutely perfect. They know how much effort Y/n puts into skating, and they were able to experience that firsthand. That night was a special one, and they told me how lucky I am to have found someone like Y/n and be able to share moments like that with them. That will definitely be a night I'll never forget." Luke stated happily.
Once the interview concluded, you watched the footage with a huge smile on your face. You were feeling rather giddy inside as you remembered that evening, especially when Luke had placed his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, whispering something in your ear.
Your heart skipped a beat when he mentioned how lucky he was to have found someone like you, and how special it was to share moments like that with you. You loved hearing how affectionate he was with you, knowing full well that not many men actually showed that kind of emotion towards their girlfriends or wives.
It made you fall deeper and deeper in love with him each day, despite the fact that you were already head over heels for him. It made your feelings grow stronger, making you want to spend every waking moment with him and wake up next to him each morning.
TAGLIST
@lovelynikol16
if you'd like to be added to the taglist, pls leave a comment <3
#✎ natalie writes#luke hughes#luke hughes fluff#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes x you#luke hughes imagine#luke hughes fanfic
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Baby Fever
Paring: HyunJin x Reader
Summery: HyunJin is getting baby fever and it’s obvious how badly he wants one of his own
Word count: 2693
Style: fluff, romance, smut
Hyunjin watched with a gleam in his eye as a toddler giggled at the next table. The child's laughter seemed to light up the entire café, drawing everyone's attention, including his. It wasn't the first time his Stray Kids bandmates had noticed his growing fondness for little ones. As the toddler's parents prepared to leave, Hyunjin's gaze followed them out the door, his mind clearly elsewhere.
At their table, Y/N was in the middle of a hilarious story, making Jisung and Felix laugh out loud. "And then he says, 'That's not a piano, that's my mother-in-law!'" Y/N concluded, sending the table into another round of laughter.
Hyunjin, however, barely cracked a smile, his thoughts preoccupied. Noticing his distraction, Chan leaned in, "Everything okay, Hyunjin?"
"Yeah, just thinking," Hyunjin murmured, his eyes still tracing the spot where the child had been.
Seungmin nudged him playfully, "Thinking about tiny shoes and lullabies, huh?"
Hyunjin shot him a mock glare but didn't deny it. "Maybe."
It wasn't a secret within the group that Hyunjin had a soft spot for children. His interactions with young fans were always gentle and patient, and he never missed a chance to coo over a baby. But lately, it seemed more than just an affectionate gesture; it felt like a longing.
Han, ever the observant one, added, "You've been pretty baby-crazy lately, Hyunjin. Thinking of starting a family with Y/N?"
The question hung in the air. Hyunjin's gaze finally drifted back to Y/N, who was now watching him with a curious expression.
"Maybe it's something we should talk about," Hyunjin said, more to Y/N than to the others.
Later, in the quiet of Hyunjin's room in the Stray Kids' apartment, he and Y/N lay cuddled together. The noise of the city drifted through the window, a gentle reminder of the world outside their cozy bubble.
Breaking the silence, Y/N turned to face him. "You've been pretty quiet since we left the café. Something on your mind?"
Hyunjin took a deep breath, the words he'd been holding back ready to spill. "I've been thinking... about us, our future."
Y/N's expression softened, encouraging him to continue.
"It's just that... every time I see a child, I can't help but imagine what it would be like for us to have one. To start a family together." His voice was hesitant, unsure of Y/N's reaction.
Y/N's hand found his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Hyunjin, I love you, and I've thought about it too. A family with you... it sounds wonderful."
Relief washed over Hyunjin's face. "Really? You've thought about it?"
"Of course," Y/N smiled. "I just wasn't sure how you felt about it."
They lay there for a moment, the possibility of a future they both desired hanging warmly between them.
"So, does this mean we're thinking about... a baby?" Hyunjin asked, a hopeful note in his voice.
Y/N laughed, the sound bright and clear. "Let's take it one step at a time. But yes, I think we're on the same page."
Over the weeks, the topic of starting a family became a frequent and heartfelt conversation between Hyunjin and Y/N. Each discussion, each shared dream, seemed to deepen Hyunjin's yearning. He had always been fond of children, but now the idea of having his own felt like a calling.
One particularly memorable day, Hyunjin and his Stray Kids bandmates had an engagement to babysit children for a reality TV show. Throughout the day, Hyunjin's natural affinity for caring and guiding the kids shone through. Whether he was helping tie shoelaces, soothing a scraped knee, or leading a game, he was the perfect blend of a big brother and a father figure. His bandmates couldn't help but tease him playfully, but they all acknowledged Hyunjin's remarkable ability with children.
"Hyunjin, you're a natural at this," Chan observed with a smile as they wrapped up the shoot. "You'd make an amazing dad."
Hyunjin blushed at the compliment, his heart full. "Thanks, Chan. I hope I get the chance to be one, someday."
That hope seemed to edge closer to reality one day during dance practice. Y/N, having finished her own practice, came by to watch Stray Kids rehearse. The members greeted her warmly, always happy to see her. During a break, as the others hydrated and chatted, Y/N approached Hyunjin with a thoughtful look in her eyes.
"Hey, Hyunjin," she started, her voice soft but clear.
Hyunjin turned to her, a smile instantly blooming on his face. "Hey, what's up?"
Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes meeting his with a mix of excitement and seriousness. "I've been thinking a lot about what we talked about... about having a baby. I'm ready, Hyunjin. I'm ready for us to start our family."
Hyunjin's eyes widened in shock and joy. "What? Right now?" he exclaimed, a bit louder than he intended.
His voice caught the attention of some of the members, who turned to look with raised eyebrows. Y/N laughed at Hyunjin's reaction, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. "Not right this second," she teased, biting her lip shyly. She leaned in and kissed him, a tender and loving gesture that Hyunjin eagerly reciprocated.
Pulling back slightly, Y/N whispered, "After practice, come over to my place. I have a surprise for you."
Hyunjin was left dazed and ecstatic for the rest of the day, his mind buzzing with thoughts of the future. He couldn't contain his happiness, and it didn't go unnoticed by the rest of Stray Kids.
"Hyunjin, you look like you're walking on air. What did Y/N say?" Felix asked, nudging him playfully.
Hyunjin hesitated for a moment before sharing the news. "Y/N and I are thinking about starting a family."
The group erupted in cheers and congratulations, patting him on the back and expressing their support. They were genuinely happy for him, their faces beaming with excitement.
Later that evening, after a refreshing shower, Hyunjin dressed in something comfortable yet stylish, his heart pounding with anticipation. He made his way to Y/N's place, thoughts of their future together filling his mind.
Upon arriving, Y/N greeted him at the door. The apartment was softly lit with dim lights and scented candles, creating a cozy and romantic ambiance. A delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen, indicating that Y/N had been cooking something special.
"Wow, this place looks incredible," Hyunjin commented, stepping inside and taking in the scene.
Y/N smiled, a little nervously. "I wanted tonight to be perfect for us."
They sat down to a beautifully prepared meal, talking and laughing easily. The conversation naturally drifted to their future, their hopes and dreams for a family. Y/N spoke about the kind of mother she hoped to be, while Hyunjin shared his excitement and a few anxieties about fatherhood.
As they ate, Y/N brought the topic back to their earlier conversation. "So, about starting a family... I've been giving it a lot of thought, and I feel like we're ready. I'm ready, if you are."
Hyunjin reached for her hand, his eyes alight with love and emotion. "Y/N, there's nothing I want more than to start a family with you."
As they finished their meal, the soft clink of champagne glasses added a sweet rhythm to their evening. Y/N stood up, extending her hand to Hyunjin. "Shall we dance?" she asked with a playful glint in her eye.
Hyunjin grinned, accepting her hand as they moved to the open space in her living room. Gentle music filled the room, setting a romantic tone. They swayed together, lost in the melody and each other's eyes.
"You're a surprisingly good dancer," Y/N teased, her eyes sparkling.
Hyunjin chuckled, spinning her around playfully. "Only with the right partner," he replied, pulling her close again.
Their laughter mingled in the air, creating a melody of its own. As the song continued, Y/N leaned in, bringing her lips to Hyunjin's in a tender, loving kiss. Hyunjin responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around her more tightly.
"Mmm, I could stay like this forever," Hyunjin murmured against her lips, a soft hum escaping him as he deepened the kiss.
The room seemed to grow warmer with their shared affection. Hyunjin's lips traced a path down Y/N's jawline to her neck, each kiss a whisper of his love and desire.
In a seamless motion, he lifted her in his arms, carrying her towards the bedroom amidst their shared giggles and soft expressions of disbelief and excitement.
"You're surprisingly light," Hyunjin joked, his eyes twinkling with joy.
Y/N laughed, her heart fluttering. "It's all those dance practices."
He gently set her down on the bed, his hands reaching for the hem of her black dress. Y/N nodded, a silent permission, and they proceeded to help each other out of their clothes, the air filled with soft chuckles and tender gazes.
Once they were undressed, Hyunjin resumed his loving exploration, his lips moving slowly and thoughtfully over Y/N's skin. He was keen on savoring every moment, every breath, every soft sigh that escaped Y/N.
As he reached her waist, his hands gently slid off her lingerie, continuing his tender kisses. Y/N let out a contented sigh, her fingers weaving through his hair, a gesture of love and trust.
Their movements were slow, deliberate, each one a testament to the deep connection they shared. As Hyunjin's tender kisses continued, Y/N felt herself drifting into a state of bliss. Each gentle touch was like a whisper against her skin, sending waves of warmth through her. She let out a soft cry, a sound that spoke volumes about the depth of her feelings and the intensity of the moment.
Just as Y/N felt herself nearing the edge, Hyunjin pulled back, trailing kisses up her body until he reached her lips again. The connection in that kiss was electric, a perfect fusion of love and desire.
Hyunjin then paused, sitting up to remove the last barrier between them. There was a moment of intense eye contact, a silent communication filled with love and anticipation. Gently, he eased his way in, and Y/N instinctively gripped his shoulders, steadying herself as he started with a slow, deliberate rhythm.
"I love you so much, Y/N," Hyunjin whispered tenderly, each word punctuated with a gentle movement. "I'm so lucky to have you."
Y/N gazed into his eyes, seeing the truth and depth of his feelings mirrored there. "I love you too, Hyunjin," she replied, her voice laced with emotion.
A small, sincere smile spread across Hyunjin's face, reassuring her of his genuine feelings. Everything about this moment felt right – the connection, the love, the unspoken promises they were making to each other.
As their movements synchronized, Hyunjin shifted slightly, finding a better angle. Y/N's gentle strokes along his back sent shivers down his spine, encouraging him to quicken the pace. The room was filled with the sound of their synchronized breaths and soft whispers of affection.
Minutes passed, their emotions and physical sensations intensifying until they both reached their climax. Hyunjin paused for a second, his breathing heavy, before gradually slowing down. Then, with a tenderness that spoke volumes, he slid next to her, pulling her into a warm, loving embrace.
They lay there, entwined in each other's arms, the afterglow of their love enveloping them. The room was silent except for their soft breaths and the faint hum of the city outside. In that moment, nothing else mattered – it was just Hyunjin and Y/N, together in their own little world.
After a while, Hyunjin broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with affection. "This... us... it's everything I've ever wanted."
Y/N snuggled closer to him, her heart full. "Me too, Hyunjin. There's nowhere else I'd rather be."
They lay in silence for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's presence. Then, Y/N looked up at him, a playful glint in her eyes. "So, about that family we were talking about..."
Hyunjin chuckled, a sound of pure joy. "I can't wait to start that adventure with you."
Months passed, and Hyunjin and Y/N's relationship continued to blossom. Their intimate moments became a cherished part of their routine, deepening their connection. As their bond grew stronger, Hyunjin gradually started moving some of his belongings to Y/N's place, making it a second home. He spent his weekends there, cherishing every moment they had together.
The members of Stray Kids noticed a change in Hyunjin. He seemed more relaxed and content with each passing week. His smiles were brighter, his laughter more frequent, and there was a noticeable lightness to his step.
One day, during a particularly intense dance practice, Y/N walked into the studio. Her entrance was marked by a radiant smile that seemed to light up the room. She made her way straight to Hyunjin and pulled him into an enthusiastic hello kiss that caught him completely off guard.
"Whoa, what's got you so excited?" Hyunjin asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity and amusement.
Y/N beamed at him, her eyes shining with unspoken joy. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small object, handing it to Hyunjin. He took it, his eyes widening as he looked down at the clear blue pregnancy test. It read 'Pregnant.'
For a moment, Hyunjin was speechless, his eyes fixed on the test. Then, he gasped, almost choking on air, his shock turning into overwhelming joy.
Y/N laughed at his reaction, her heart swelling with happiness. The commotion caught the attention of the other Stray Kids members, who quickly gathered around.
"I'm going to be a dad!" Hyunjin exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement and disbelief. He swept Y/N into his arms, spinning her around as the room erupted into cheers and congratulations.
"Be careful!" Y/N laughed, still in his arms. "I've been feeling a bit sick this morning."
Hyunjin immediately set her down, his expression turning to one of concern. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"
"I'm fine, just a little morning sickness. It's normal," Y/N assured him, still smiling.
The members of Stray Kids were overjoyed for their bandmate. Felix clapped Hyunjin on the back. "Hyunjin, you're going to be an amazing dad!"
"Yeah, we can already see it," added Han, grinning broadly.
Chan stepped forward, his eyes soft with happiness. "This is such great news, Hyunjin. We're all here for you guys, every step of the way."
The rest of the practice session was filled with a new energy. The members couldn't stop talking about the baby, asking Y/N questions, and making plans to support Hyunjin and Y/N through the pregnancy.
As they left the studio, Hyunjin wrapped his arm around Y/N, a protective gesture. "We should celebrate," he suggested, his voice full of excitement. "How about dinner at your favorite place?"
Y/N nodded, leaning into him. "That sounds perfect."
That evening, they went out to celebrate, choosing a cozy restaurant that Y/N loved. Over dinner, they talked about everything from baby names to nursery themes. They discussed how they would juggle their careers with parenthood, and how excited they were for this new chapter in their lives.
"This is going to be an amazing journey, Y/N," Hyunjin said, reaching across the table to hold her hand. "I can't wait to see you as a mom."
Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes bright with tears of joy. "And I can't wait to see you as a dad, Hyunjin. We're going to be great at this."
They spent the rest of the evening making plans and dreaming about their future as a family. There was a sense of wonder and anticipation in the air, a feeling that something truly magical was about to begin. As they walked home, hand in hand under the starlit sky, they knew that their lives were about to change forever – and they couldn't be more excited.
#skz#skz smut#starkid#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x you#hyunjin x y/n#hyunjin smut
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Hi if possible a part two to the Wriothesley fic?
https://www.tumblr.com/bitterchocoo/731525542873055232/who-is-he
This one. But if not then maybe a Gallagher and reader as Wriothesley. Maybe Wriothesley reader is like a significant other.
The Duke of the Fortress of Meropide
Gallagher | M. Reader as Wriothesley [Genshin Impact]
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"Word of advice: Don't break the law."
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The Bloodhound Family are in charge of Penacony's security. But.. that wasn't always the case. As an inmate climbed the ladder and became the Head of the Fortress of Meropide. Penacony's underwater prison.
This caused some uproars.
How could someone like that be in charge of the Fortress? Shouldn't it be a member of the Bloodhound? And someone with a criminal record nonetheless? Is this truly the right move? Has the Family went insane?! But it's true. Someone like that did indeed became the most respected man in the Fortress.
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"Bartender! Could you give me one glass of Glorious Hour?"
Immediately recognizing the voice, Gallagher turned his head towards the voice and was met by none other than the Duke himself. Letting out a chuckle, he replied. "Oh! Your Grace, fancy seeing you here!"
As far as he knows, the man is always in the Fortress, he never really went out. Always so busy... but look at him now! Suddenly showing up at Dreamjolt Hostelry!
"Well many of my new inmates were fighting in this very place, so I figured I should give this place a shot, see what's the hype is all about."
"Oh so you're saying that you're investigating then? What? Are you trying to shut this place done, Your Grace?"
"Maybe."
The two broke into loud laughter as it echoes through the establishment. Their playful banters never gets old. No matter how many times they've done it. It never fails to being out a laugh or two. The atmosphere of the place is as lively as always. It's a nice change to the usually gloomy underwater prison.
Calming down from his laughter [Name] gave Gallagher a bouquet of flowers that he had bought prior to his visit. With a charming smile he says. "It appears I forgot to bring my wallet, will these flowers do?"
His eyes widened for a moment before letting out a chuckle, taking the bouquet Gallagher examines them and couldn't help but smile at the thoughtfulness of the Duke. He rarely leaves that damn prison and yet when he does, he never fails to make it special. "I'm terribly sorry, but we don't accept flowers as payment." Gallagher replied teasingly.
Raising a brow at the other's words, [Name] asked as he put his hands together and his elbow on top of the table. "Then what do you accept?"
Putting the flowers aside, Gallagher then put his hands on the table and leans forwards, their face only a few centimeters apart as he answers with a teasing grin. "I believe you knew the answer to that, you're a regular after all, Your Grace."
Letting out an amused laughed, the Duke spends no time to close the gap between them as the other let out a hum of approval. Savoring the sweet taste, the two soon pulls away.
"Alright then, one glass of Glorious Hour coming right up!"
"On second thought, give me something bitter. You were simply too sweet and I'm afraid I might get sick if I continue to consume anything sweet~"
#seme male reader#top male reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x male reader#hsr#hsr x reader#hsr x male reader#hsr gallagher#gallagher x reader#gallagher x male reader#x male reader#x reader#genshin impact#genshin wriothesley#wriothesley#genshin
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Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, and Ace with a fem slave S/O with lots of scars, injuries, and more. She’s so sweet and quiet and great at cleaning and cooking and sewing and practically their future housewife on deck!
A/N: Thank you Anon :) You gave me something I didn’t know I needed. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace
Cw: lots of PTSD, trauma response, angst, scars, injuries, etc.
Total word count: 1.5k
A New Home
Zoro
He always announces his presence when he enters a room. There was one time he didn’t announce it when he came into a room and it scared you so bad you started crying. Never again.
He likes to just sit in the silence with you while you work. Sometimes he watches you, but most of the time he naps. He loves that you don’t mind the quiet space, that he can come to you for a moment of solitude.
He never asks you to fix his torn shirts. He doesn’t feel right asking you to, but when he finds them sewn back together perfectly and folded neatly in his drawer, he gives you a soft kiss as a silent “thank you”.
He is FIERCELY protective over you both in social settings and in battle. He is always yelling at Luffy for being too loud or scaring you, he pulls out a sword against anyone who tries to make advances on you in public, and god forgive anyone who even thinks about hurting you in battle.
He gives the best massages. He has perfect control on pressure and knows exactly where to press to comfort your aching muscles. He loves to massage your shoulders, your hands, your feet. Afterwards he’ll lazily trace his fingers across your skin, sometimes tracing over scars, but he never asks about them. He knows you’ll tell him when you’re ready.
Luffy
He works so so hard to get you out of your shell. He just wants you to try new things and have new experiences!! He wants you to live life to the fullest!!
New adventure? New food? New friend?? He’s introducing you to it all. It’s a bit overwhelming at times, but you know he means well, so you try your best to embrace it.
He used to ask you about your injuries and scars whenever he saw a new one, but he’s learned to stop for a multitude of reasons. Sometimes the memories are so bad you cry, and he holds you and rocks you to sleep. Sometimes you tell him the truth, and he gets so angry he needs to go punch something and scream at the sky. Sometimes you’re not sure how you got it, and you get lost in thought for hours trying to remember what memory you’ve forgotten.
You are always cleaning up Luffy’s messes, helping Franky repair the worn sails, stitching up torn clothing from everyone. You have a way with fabric, and can make an old shirt brand new again. Luffy deems you the “Clothing Captain”, since you can get rid of any stain, mend any cloth, and create the best outfits from scratch.
He watches you really closely to make sure you aren’t working too hard. Sometimes you just get so caught up in getting as many tasks done as efficiently as possible that the whole day passes and you haven’t sat down once. Luffy keeps an eye on you and makes sure you are still having fun. The life on the Sunny isn’t supposed to be hard work, it’s supposed to be a fun family where everyone chips in with what they’re best at and what they enjoy. He knows you’re still working to understand that fully, and he works to support you the best way he can.
Sanji
The first time you ate his food, you cried. You had never had anything better in your life, and you praised his cooking ability for days. It was the most you had spoken since joining the crew, and it was all for him. Sanji instantly fell for you, of course.
He cooks constantly for you. He’ll spend hours over the stove trying to get the recipe just right. You never citicize his cooking (because it’s always the best thing you’ve ever had), so he learns your body language instead. He learns your favorite ingredients, and watches your reactions to his cooking closely to figure out how to perfect it just for you.
He talks your ear off, which you love. He knows you're not much of a talker, and he makes up for the empty space. Neither of you ever mind, you love hearing about his life, about their time on the sea. You asked him once where he first fell in love with cooking, and he got quiet for a long time. “My mother.” He finally said, and you knew that was all he would say on the matter. You realized that he had a past he didn’t like to talk about as well, and you didn’t push him to say anymore.
He's extremely defensive of you, and keeps you away from prying eyes and questions. Luffy asks something insensitive? “Mind your own business, Luffy!” Zoro says something boneheaded? “I’ll kill you for that Mosshead!” Anytime you’re feeling awkward or uncomfortable, Sanji is there to step in and tell people to back off.
He picks up on your PTSD warning signs super fast. He watches for the nervous flicks of your eyes, trembling fingers, twitching hands. As soon as he sees a sign, he’s there in an instant. He asks you what you need, refocuses you in the moment, makes sure you know you’re safe. He holds you and lets you cry and scream into his shirt. No matter what you do or what you need, he’s there for you.
Law
The first time he sees all of your scars, he’s enraged. He clenches his fists and grits his teeth and does the best he can to help you with your current ailment without showing outward anger, but you can feel his rage. It scares you, and when he realizes his emotions are upsetting you, he works to keep them in check in the future.
He studies up on all the medicinal herbs to heal aches and pains, and tries to find ways he might be able to help heal any injuries or long-lasting pain with his Ope-Ope fruit.
He watches closely to see how you navigate being on a ship with new people. Some big milestones he notices:
The first time you speak without being asked a direct question
The first time you offer to mend Bepo’s outfit that’s been torn
The first time you fall asleep without crying
The first time someone touches you and you don’t flinch
The first time you laugh
The first time you initiate a kiss with him
There’s many more, but those are his favorites
He gives you weekly checkups to make sure you’re not overworking yourself and ensure your health isn’t deteriorating
He loves to kiss each one of your scars, starting at your fingers, moving up your arms and then down your back. He knows he can’t take away the pain, but he can try to mix in a few good memories with them as well.
Ace
He knows that you question your worth a lot, so he gives you constant reassurance. “You’re doing amazing” and “I’m so proud of you” are some of his favorite things to say to you. They’re your favorite things to hear, too.
At first, he wants to include you in everything. He wants to show you off. He wants the entire crew to get to know you and realize how great you are. But the big party scenes are overwhelming, and you get a panic attack at one. He quickly realizes that while his intentions were good, he misread the situation, and he apologizes profusely. After that instance, he prefers watching the stars with you in the crows nest as opposed to the party scene below.
Occasionally he’ll still join the party and ask if you want to join, but he never pressures you to go. Every now and then you’ll go with him, and he keeps you close to him the whole night. When you’re ready to go, he always leaves with you, and makes sure you have time to process the event and decompress before you go to sleep so you don’t wake up anxious the next day.
He gives you the equivalent of a hot stone massage with his devil fruit powers most nights, trying to coax your muscles into relaxing before bed. He tries his best to ignore your scars and your tattoo as he massages your back. He brings up the idea of you getting the sun pirate tattoo, but at the thought of the pain you begin to shake, and he doesn’t bring it up again. He talks to Marco secretly about the extent of the phoenix fruit abilities, but unfortunately the doctor can’t be of much help in healing the old wounds or the mental ones.
You love Ace’s friends quietly. You make them snacks, and bring them drinks on hot days. You mend their clothes after battle, and help tend to their wounds when Marco is busy. You don’t always speak, but when you do, Ace’s friends brag about it for days. It’s an honor to be spoken to by you, and Ace loves that his friends love you too.
#one piece#one piece x you#one piece x reader#one piece imagine#one piece scenario#zoro#roronoa zoro#zoro x reader#zoro x y/n#zoro x you#monkey d. luffy#luffy#monkey d luffy#luffy x reader#luffy x y/n#luffy x you#vinsmoke sanji#sanji#sanji x you#sanji x reader#sanji x y/n#trafalgar law#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar law x y/n#law x reader#law x y/n#portgas d ace#portgas ace x reader#portgas ace x you
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Two Round Apples (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hey everyone! This is a very horny fic. Not much thought or plot, but a lot of steamy thots. Enjoy :)
Summary: You try to do a good deed for your closest friend, but it backfires . . . and you accidentally see Matt naked. And his butt. It's awkward, but the thing about the both of you is that you both value fairness.
Warnings: Fluff, friendship, regular Nelson and Murdock shenaniganery, swearing, smut (oral - m! and f! receiving, fingering, p in v protected sex, dirty talk, Matt being a little cocky in bed)
Other Characters: Foggy Nelson and Karen Page
Word Count: 4,053
“And Matt’s at that client meeting, so he’s gonna swing back by his place before he comes in to grab some files he was working on last night,” Foggy says over the phone as you cross the street.
“Which files did he take to work on last night?” you ask, looking down at your watch.
“The Kenadie case, the Wayne file, and I think the Slavo, Riley, and Samuels case, too.”
“Wow, no rest for the wicked, huh?”
“You know our Matty Boy—he never takes a break. Ever.”
“Well, I should be in shortly,” you say, taking a left toward Matt’s building instead of a right toward the office. “A lot of foot traffic.”
“No taxi for you?”
“Gotta get my steps in, Fog. Besides, it’s a really nice day out. I’ll see you soon.”
“See ya.”
Hanging up, you slide your phone in your pocket and open the door to the lobby of Matt’s apartment, moving up the stairs before you reach the top floor, sorting through your keys before you find your spare for his door. It’ll be a nice surprise that he doesn’t have to go back and get them. You mean, you were literally right here anyways—sure, it’d be an unnecessary extra mile for an employee, but not for his friend he’s known since undergrad that just so happens to work at his law firm. At this point, it’s just something you’d do for him.
“Let’s see,” you hum as you close the door, looking at the table in the small entryway to see if they’re there before you move into his living room to search the coffee table. As you look and straighten things out, you hear a rustling from his bedroom, your head snapping in the direction of the sound. To your surprise, you watch Matt shuffle out of his room, naked as the day he was born, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the heel of his hand. You yelp in shock and surprise, dropping the files and turning around as you cover your eyes.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—I didn’t know you—!” you start, desperately trying to backpedal and lessen the embarrassment you're feeling.
“You’re okay, really, I—,” he starts, sounding just as frazzled as you are.
“Foggy mentioned you had a meeting and left some files—!”
“Oh, that’s nice of you, but—.”
“I-I’m gonna go,” you say, covering your eyes as you turn back around to try and find your keys you dropped on the ground. As you search around for the keys, you catch a glance of Matt’s ass as he’s turned around, his hands reached around to his front to cover himself. You stop in your tracks, letting your eyes linger on his strong muscular thighs and his perfectly round asscheeks. The perfectly round asscheeks that you could bounce a quarter off of.
The perfectly round asscheeks of one of your best friends.
Swallowing hard, you regain your focus and pick up your keys, standing straight and scurrying out of the living room and rushing out of his building. You navigate the sidewalks as fast as lightning and get to the office in record time, immediately sitting down at your desk and throwing yourself into the work at hand.
“I don’t understand how it’s possible, but you look white as a ghost and totally flushed at the same time,” Karen says after about fifteen minutes.
“Hm? I’m okay,” you lie, as you type at your computer.
“Do you need coffee or something? You just don’t seem like yourself.”
“Slept funny—bad.”
“I’ll get a fresh pot of coffee brewing.”
As Karen gets up, the door to the office swings open and Matt enters, his cheeks bright red as he avoids turning in your direction. Foggy starts to head out of his office to ask Matt a question, his mouth opening but quickly closing it when he catches Matt’s demeanor.
“What’s up with him?” he asks, turning toward Karen with furrowed brows.
“Maybe the client meeting didn’t go as planned?” she suggests.
“Maybe,” he sighs. “Nothing coffee can’t fix. Karen, sit down. It’s my turn to be brewmaster.”
“I’ll go get some coffee,” Matt says, all too eagerly leaving his office. “We should all caffeinate, and I mean, we have all day to drink coffee brewed here. My treat.”
“I’ll come with,” Foggy says, falling in step with his partner. “We’ll grab some bagels, too. Maybe they’ll even have muffins.”
Your eyes follow them as they slip outside of the main lobby, and as soon as the door clicks shut, Karen turns around to you.
“Okay, what’s going on?” she breathes.
“Kare—,” you start.
“Don’t even try to lie to me. What happened?”
“I saw Matt naked.”
“What?”
“This morning on my way back from taking care of those filings, I went to Matt’s place to pick up some files Foggy said he had left, and I used my spare key because Matt was at a client meeting, but he apparently wasn’t, and he walked out of his bedroom buck-ass naked, and I saw him.”
“Oh my God. Front or back?”
“Both.”
“Oh my God.”
“I mean, the front was brief, but I still saw things, but he turned around and I saw a lot of back.”
“Oh my God,” she repeats.
“And I stared. A lot.”
“Oh my God.”
“I know! I didn’t mean to stare, but, I mean . . . Kare, you’ve seen his ass in slacks. In jeans. Sweats. You know what it’s like to see it bare? It’s even better. Like, so so much better. It’s so firm and round and . . . I broke our friendship.”
“What, no!”
“Kare, I saw him naked. All I’ve been able to think about since is how I saw him naked, and how good he looks naked. You saw how he scurried in this morning and how he quickly he left to go on a coffee run! He wasn’t even in the same space for me for a full minute before he found an excuse to bolt! I ruined things!”
“It’s just awkward. I can guarantee, at some point, all super close friends see one another naked for some reason or another.”
“You think Matt has seen Foggy naked?”
“(Y/N), listen! You’re overthinking this!” She places her hands on your shoulders. “This is just a weird hump that you both have to push through. Sooner or later, you’re both gonna move past it and it’ll be fine.”
“You better be right, Kare. You better be right.”
“Staying late?” Foggy sighs, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder.
“Mm,” you confirm. “I was telling Karen when I got back from filing those papers at the courthouse that I didn’t sleep great, and unfortunately the coffee you and Matt so kindly got didn’t give me the boost I hoped for. And I’ve been plugging along all day with my work because I haven’t been able to focus. I just want to get a little more done.”
“Well, don’t over do it—you’re the glue that holds this place together.”
“And you’re the wind beneath my wings, Nelson,” you tease.
“See ya, (Y/N). Have a good night.”
“You, too, Fog.”
“Hey—sweet dreams!”
You give him one final wave as he leaves the office. When the door clicks shut, you turn your head to look at Matt’s office door. You shouldn’t just leave the events of this morning hanging in the air. It was awkward all day, and if you can nip this in the bud, it’ll be better for the office and your friendship as a whole. You get up, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants before you walk over to Matt’s office. As you raise your hand to knock on the door, it swings open on the hinges and Matt starts to walk out, basically knocking you over.
“I’m so sorry,” you both start to say, his hands resting on the small of your back to keep you upright.
“Matt, listen,” you start. “About this morning—.”
“Please, let me go first,” he breathes.
“No, please,” you counter. “Please let me go first.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to interrupt you like that—.”
“You didn’t interrupt anything, I promise.” Matt dips his head slightly and flashes you a small smile to apologize for interrupting. “Foggy was covering for me—I haven’t been sleeping well the last few nights.” He sucks in a little breath, making his chest stick out a bit and decreasing the space between your bodies. “I also don’t usually sleep naked.”
Your cheeks burn hot as your mind trails back to seeing him bare this morning, imagining how glorious he must look in his bed, the sheets crinkled and pushed so far down on his hips that just his privates are covered, how beautiful his exposed, muscular thigh must look as he lounges on the mattress. “I was just too tired for pajamas last night.”
“Do you also sleep fight? You looked like you had bruises and scars all over you. Not that I was looking.
“Restless sleeper,” he smirks. You swear the space between your bodies disappears even more as his voice drops an octave lower; there’s no need for him to do that with you being the only two in the office, barely any space between the two of you, but it does so many things just right. “And you don’t need to be bashful that you looked. I didn’t mind at all.”
Is this man trying to give you a heart attack?
“I was thinking . . .” you start, your heart pounding out of your chest. “It’s only fair that you see mine since I saw yours.”
Matt’s tongue pokes out to wet hips perfectly pouty lips. “I’d have to touch you to see it, sweetheart.”
“I know.”
You both swallow heard, and as he starts to move in for a kiss, you dip your head and pull back slightly.
“Not here,” you breathe. “Let’s go back to your place.”
Matt gently closes the door to his apartment behind him as you gently walk through the space, bringing yourself to the same spot where you stood this morning. He folds up his cane and puts it with his glasses by the door before walking toward you slowly—not terribly slow, but not as his normal pace, either.
“You don’t need to,” he breathes in the little space between you two, his nose practically touching yours as his unfocused eyes move all over your face.
“I know,” you breathe. “But I meant what I said in the office. It’s only fair.”
Grabbing hold of his tie, you gently tug on it to pull him in closer to you, closing the space between your bodies and feeling is soft, pouty lips again yours. If air in your lungs was scarce before, it’s completely gone when your lips connect. His body melts into yours, one hand resting on your hip and the other resting on your ribcage. Matt is the first to pull back, only pulling his lips away enough to officially break the kiss as he rests his forehead on yours.
“Ah ah ah,” you tut as you feel his fingers start to pull at the hem of your shirt. “You were already naked when I got here this morning. Give me a little room.”
Matt’s face looks completely blown with lust, but he slowly nods, moving his hands from your body. With a shaky breath, you pull off your shirt and drop it to your right before you undo the clasp and zipper on your pants, looping your fingers in the elastic of your underwear to get them both down in one fell swoop, fabric pooling at your ankles. Matt’s face flushes, and his tongue slips out between his lips as he gently flexes and wiggles his fingers as he keeps himself from touching your body for the time being. Your eyes start to look up and down the length of his body before you reach around your back and unclasp your bra, feeling it go limp before you push the straps down your arms and let it fall. As it falls down, you notice it hit against a growing erection in his pants that looks increasingly uncomfortable.
“You can touch me whenever and wherever you want,” you breathe.
“Mmm,” he hums, his lids hooded with desire. His fingers start to graze over the back of your hands before gently tracing up your arms, making goosebumps dance all over your skin. Once his fingertips hit your elbow, he tilts his wrists so his hands start to glide up and over your skin. As they reach your shoulders, Matt gently glides them up, his hand cradling your neck while his other hand tucks hair behind your ear. “Is this okay?”
“Y-Yes,” you stutter, your heart racing a million miles an hour.
His eyebrows gently lift up in delight and care as if he’s listening to your body tick and purr as he nods softly. “If you want me to stop, say the word.”
“Okay,” you breathe before adding with a little smirk, “You can keep going.”
He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight as he smiles. His hands gently glide down from your face and neck, over your collarbone, and down over your breasts, his thumbs grazing over your nipples, causing them to peak.
“I might get a better image if I feel you some more,” he says, his voice low and gravely with what you can only describe as desire as his hands gently drag along your ribcage and around to your back.
You half-register the “yes” that tumbles from your lips, and you gasp in delight when you feel his lips on your neck, softly pressing kisses down the column of skin, over your breasts, above your pounding heart, and eventually around one of your pert nipples. He gently sucks at it with each kiss before moving to the other one and doing the same exact thing again.
“Matt,” you breathe, your hands slipping into his soft hair, your fingernails scratching at his scalp. He hums into your skin, moving off of your breast and spreading kisses all over your stomach before he is on his knees in front of you. As his embraces spread across your pelvic bone and grow closer to the dripping heat between your legs. Matt’s hands slide down your back further before they’re gently resting over the curve of your ass. You gasp, a small moan falling from your throat as you tilt your head back in delight as he starts to kiss and lick at your dripping pussy. “Oh m—. . . fuck, Matt.”
He just hums, continuing his work diligently and deliberately as you get pulled closer to the edge, teetering on the brink of your pleasure. As you approach, Matt pulls his lips from the apex between your legs, kissing down your thighs and legs before moving back up, carefully moving his kisses around to your back and kissing the skin he neglected. Matt kisses up your spine as he straightens his legs to stand, one of his hands staying at your hips and between your legs, carefully playing with you as his lips and other hand continue to explore your body. A tingle shoots down your spine as his lips press kisses into your shoulder, his fingers brushing your hair aside so he can kiss up your neck and behind your ear.
“How good of a look did you really get this morning?” he asks quietly, his voice dropping to an octave that goes right between your legs and would make you do absolutely anything he told you to do.
“I-I tried not to look,” you stutter.
“But you stared at my ass, though.”
“Yes,” you grin.
“Sounds like you could use a better look at the front. You know, all things being fair in this.”
“I’d hate to be unfair.” He chuckles deeply, kissing at the sweet spot behind your ear before moving around to your front. “I think your bedroom as better lighting, though. It’d mimic this morning. Again, all things being equal.”
“Like you said, sweetheart. I’d hate to be unfair.”
You turn into his touch, bringing your lips to his and kissing him deeply as his hands hold you flush against him. Your lips move back and forth, the desire and delight growing more and more that you almost forget your plan to move to his room. He sweeps you up, his strong hands wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you up before he begins to move across his apartment, his lips never leaving your skin. You moan into his mouth when you feel the cool, soft, silky-smoothness of his sheets on your back.
“You want to undress me, or should I do it?” he smirks.
“I’m happy to assist,” you grin, matching his expression.
He laughs and nods, his fingers working to unbutton his shirt while you make quick work with his belt and pants, wrapping your hand around his sizable erection and pumping, making Matt groan at your touch.
“Lay back, angel,” he husks, pulling his shirt off. “Lay back and take it all in.” You let go and do as he asks, watching him as he steps out of his pants and boxers, pumping himself as he kneels on the bed. “Tell me what you want.”
“You. I want you.”
Matt leans down, supporting himself on one hand while he keeps pumping himself, his lips crashing into yours. You cup his face in your hand, doing what you can to intensify the kiss. Your other hand slips into the sweet spot of his back, right above the curve of his ass, his erection gliding right against the slick between your legs. You groan into the embrace as your privates touch in the most delicious of ways, the hand you have on his cheek sliding up to tug on his hair. Matt pulls his lips from yours and kisses your neck and clavicle, marking you up before moving back up to kiss you deeply and repeatedly before pulling back to reach over in his nightstand to grab a condom. Tearing open the foil package, you watch him roll it on his length, making sure the tip has room and it’s secure.
“You ready, sweetheart?” he breathes, one hand cradling the side of your face as he kisses your cheek and neck, the other sliding down your side.
“Yeah,” you breathe.
“Hang on, angel.” With another kiss, he reaches over and pulls down one of his extra pillows at the head of his bed. “Lift your hips for me.” You do as he asks, and he wiggles the pillow under your hips, kissing all the way up your stomach, between your breasts, and back on your lips. “Spread your legs, please.”
Tilting your knees to the side, you expose everything to him, gasping and leaning back into the pillow under your head while he strokes his cock up and down your slit.
“Matt,” you breathe, digging your nails into the soft flesh of his shoulders. “Matty, please.”
He kisses you again, saying so much with the embrace without saying a single word. He nose brushes against yours tenderly before rolling his hips forward and slowly pushing in. You cry out, nuzzling into him as he sinks in inch by inch, stretching you wide and filling you gloriously until he can’t push in any further.
“Tell me when I can move,” Matt kisses into your chest.
“Move,” you beg almost immediately. “Matt, please, move.”
He chuckles softly and smiles, nodding and giving you a kiss as he starts to drag his hips back before starting to push back in. The pace is steady and comfortable, but with each push and pull, you just about lose your mind at the sensation thanks to the pillow under your hips, unable to prevent the moans and whimpers that fall from your mouth. Matt grabs one of your legs and lifts it higher, helping him hit deeper and making you cry out louder.
“Just like that, angel,” he grunts. “Fuck, (Y/N), you feel so good.”
“Matt!” you swallow. “Matt, harder!”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck, just like that, please!”
His hips pick up the pace, making the bed squeak and filling his bedroom with the sounds of your slapping skin. Your head lolls back in pure bliss as your chest heaves as you pant in pleasure, blindly grabbing at Matt’s arms for a sense of stability. The moans that he pulls from your throat sound absolutely animalistic and feral as he repeatedly thrusts into you.
“Deeper, please!” you beg. “Matt, please!”
“I know, angel girl,” he grunts. “You feel so fucking nice, I want to make you feel all kinds of good, sweetheart.”
“Kiss me,” you swallow, finally managing to get a good grip on him to pull him down, his lips crashing into yours, his hips only faltering slightly. He moans into your mouth as he resumes his thrusts, his hands gripping your hips tightly in an effort to help in hit deeper. Pulling his lips from yours, he attaches them to your neck, right on your sensitive spot as he nips and sucks to mark you up as his. “Matty, I’m gonna cum.”
“Yeah?” he taunts. “This dick just too good for you? Can’t hold out for more?”
“Matt!”
“Tell me how good this dick is, angel.”
“Fuck, Matt! Your dick is so good! Best dick I’ve ever had!”
“Shit, (Y/N), you’re so good for me—your pussy is so tight, sweetheart. And it’s all for me.” He trusts deeply. “All.” Thrust. “For.” Thrust. “Me.” Thrust.
His pelvis rubs against you just right with a deep thrust, and you cum around his dick with a body-trembling force, your voice reaching a pitch you didn’t know was possible. Matt’s mouth slots over yours, capturing your cries of pleasure in his mouth, using it as fuel for his own passion.
“Matt,” you whisper in his ear. “Pull out.”
“What?” he huffs in confusion as his hips slow. You muster enough energy to roll your bodies over so he’s flat on his back and you slide off of him. You whine at the emptiness, but you eagerly move over him and pull off his condom, replacing the latex with your mouth and hand. Matt moans out in pure ecstasy, the muscles in his strong thighs clenching in surprise as you play with him and eagerly bob your head.
“Angel, I’m gonna cum,” he breathes. “I’m gonna cum.”
You hum in delight at the thought of your mouth being the thing that pushes him over the edge, the thought of just how big his load is shooting right between your legs and making you want him even more. With a careful squeeze of your hand at his base with his balls, he bucks his hips up, shoving his cock all the way down your throat as he cums. You move your hands and spread them across his hips, working to keep all of Matt down your throat as you swallow his cum, one of his hands cradling the side of your face. When he’s finally done, you slowly slide off of him, gasping for breath when your lips finally release his cock with a soft popping noise. You go back down, wrapping your lips around his head to suck him dry and clean him off before you move your kisses up his body, up along his bellybutton and abs, his chest and clavicle, neck, and finally his lips.
“Mm,” you hum into the embrace, nuzzling your nose against his after you break the kiss.
“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he murmurs. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“No. Everything was great.”
Matt smiles like an idiot, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you again before rolling the two of you onto your sides, your legs tangling together.
“I like that you value fairness so highly,” he chuckles softly, his pouty lips kissing under your jaw.
“I like that you were too tired for pajamas last night.”
This time you both laugh before your lips connect again.
“Maybe I’ll make it a habit when you’re around.”
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First ever post!! 🫶🏼
Hey y’all!! I’m wanting to start writing Avatar fics, mainly smut (lol). Please don’t be too harsh but I’m open for suggestions and tell me what you think!! I don’t really know what I’m doing haha. And also I wanna start doing requests so lmk!
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Pairing: Dilf¡Jake Sully x omatikaya reader (22)
Warnings: MDNI 🛑, SMUT, age gap, getting caught in the act, p in v, cursing, dirty talk, virgin reader, i think that’s it?
Synopsis: you’re urged to ask your best friend Neteyam to be your mate since the pairing seems beneficial, he denies you and his dad shows you what you deserve ;). Porn with plot.
Word count: 2.6k
Next part!
You were Neteyam’s best friend ever since childhood. For as long as you can remember, you and him were attached at the hip practically. Born on the same year and the first child to your families, you two had a lot in common that resulted in a very close bond. You could tell him anything and he could tell you anything. It was nice having someone to relate to who also happened to be funny, smart, talented, and charming. You’ve always loved Neteyam and he loved you, as friends.
However, as time went on and the two of you grew up, expectations became harsher and duties were falling in line. You’re now both 22 and things have changed now that you’re adults. Taking responsibility in the Omatikaya clan is a right of passage, it’s about showing that you now agree to give your all to the people around you just like all Na’vi are expected to do once they reach a certain age.
Neteyam is going to be the next Olo’eyktan, the most important duty of all along with the Tsahik. You were decently good at hunting and could hold your own, but you were also best friends with Kiri and spent many hours with her and Moat, learning healing skills.
You always knew Neteyam would have to chose a mate once the time came, but you never thought much about it and you were both platonic and never looked at him in a romantic way. You know he didn’t look at you that way either. But once you both turned 21, you had to admit to yourself that he was quite breathtaking in his fully grown adult form. He’s now grown into a strong and healthy man, with broad, muscular shoulders and is as tall as his dad, the present Olo’eyktan.
Today, as you were chopping some food in your hut, you heard a knock by the entrance. “Come in!”, and with that Jake, Neytiri, and Moat approach you with smiling faces. You didn’t expect to see them so you stop what you’re doing and bow your head, signaling “I see you” to them. They return the gesture and Moat speaks up, “My child, we have a very important proposition to bring you.” You nod as in saying to continue, then Neytiri joins in, “Y/n, we know you are a very responsible and nice girl. We also know that you have been steadily learning Tsahik duties with Moat and Kiri over the past few years. We have come here to say we think it would be best for you and Neteyam to be mates and the next leaders for the clan.” she beams.
You don’t know what you were expecting them to say but it wasn’t this. You chuckle nervously and shift in your place. “But Neteyam is my best friend. And anyways I don’t know if he would agree to this, have you brought it up with him?” Jake steps up and says “No, he doesn’t know yet because we were hoping you could tell him and it could be more natural. So it doesn’t seem like we’re forcing you guys or arranging it. It we try to force it, he might rebel. You think you could talk to him? He needs to pick a mate as soon as possible and we know you two get along great.”
You began to feel a bit dizzy and held onto the table beside you. You didn’t want to tell them no, how could you tell them no? So you meekly nodded and said “I will talk to Neteyam later when he gets back from hunting.” Neytiri hugged you and said “I would be honored to have you as my daughter-in-law!” You returned the hug and gave her a weak smile. You felt sick. They said they’re goodbyes and left you with your thoughts.
After 2 hours in your hut thinking on this, you decided you were actually really lucky to be chosen to mate with Neteyam. He was handsome and of course you loved him, so why not? All the girls in the village talk about how much they’d love to mate with him, but only one can be chosen. You had butterflies in your stomach and a newfound confidence as you left your hut, setting out to find Neteyam.
After a few minutes, you rounded a corner and seen the man himself. He looked tired and worn out, but you knew this had to be discussed now. You walk up to him and put your hand on his arm and say “can we talk for a minute? In private?” He lifts an eyebrow but nods his head, slightly concerned something was wrong. You two walk over to the forest, where the chatter of the village can only be heard in the distance. You take a deep breath and just say it, “Neteyam, it’s time for you to chose a mate. I don’t know how you feel about the other girls in the clan but I’ve been practicing Tsahik duties and we already have a bond…” you look at him like he should be able to get your meaning but he just gives you a confused look. So you spit it out, “Neteyam, I think we should be mates.”
His eyes widen and mouth drops a little. Your heart is pounding but you understand the initial shock. He nervously lets out a chuckle and says “But y/n, we are just friends… did you think we were something more?” Your heart drops and mouth dries up. Hot anger boils up in your blood at the embarrassment and denial. “N-no, I know we’re friends now but our duties are changing. We have to do what’s best for the clan’s future.” He looks around and says “but I can’t mate with you, I don’t see you in that way”, he gives you a look of pity and now you are livid. “Why not? Am I not pretty enough for you??” “No, I mean you could make yourself prettier but that’s not the only reason why…” he trails off and your mouth hangs all the way down. Tears flood your eyes and you bolt off. In the background you hear him yell, “Y/n, don’t do this!”
You run through the village, covering your face while crying. You felt so much shame and hurt. You burst into your hut and fling yourself onto the bed, wetting it with your tears. You couldn’t believe he outright denied you. You weren’t the prettiest girl, sure, but you most certainly weren’t the ugliest either! You should’ve never agreed to this or even dreamed it could happen. He could get any girl he wants, why would he pick you?
Night was closing in and you shivered under your covers. You dried up your tears but still felt the sting in your heart at the betrayal. Suddenly, you hear a knock at your door. You’re facing the wall and muster out “who is it?” with no enthusiasm. Much to your surprise, it’s Jake. You scramble out of the sheets and sit on the edge of the bed to then stand up and bow your head and gesture your hand, “ma Olo’eyktan”.
He throws his hand up as if brushing that gesture away, “no need for all the formalities, sweetie.” You nod and slightly smile to be polite. You loved his fatherly way of speaking. You then remember everything that happened earlier and that he probably found out about you being rejected. “I heard what happened and I just want to apologize on behalf of my son. He’s a dumbass” he says bluntly. The human curse catches your attention.
He sits down on the bed next to you. You choke out “I’m so sorry. I thought it could work but I guess I’m not good enough for him. He is probably so used to me by now that he sees nothing special.” A single year rolls down your cheek. Jake slowly shook his head and touched your thigh and your eyes meet his. His eyes are filled with pity for you but also something else, something like hunger. You tingle under his touch.
“You’re a special girl, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, the stupid skawng. If it were me and I were your age, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you…” he purrs.
The atmosphere changes and you heat up all over. You’ve always thought Jake was a hot dad but you assumed he wouldn’t even bat an eye at you, especially since he has Neytiri.
He slowly rides his hand up your thigh to your most sensitive area. You gasp at the sudden intrusion but don’t stop him. You couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Let me make you feel better, honey. I can make you feel real good”, he smirks. You look up at him with doe eyes and can only manage to nod. “I’ll make you forget about Neteyam, that dumb bastard. You’ll only be thinking about my name now, how’s that sound?”
You feel his voice vibrate down to your very core. And quickly you feel needy, with no shame. It had been a terrible day and you wanted nothing more than to just feel better. “Yes please”
That’s all he needs to hear to start going at you. His calloused hands feel heavenly against your soft skin. He rubs you all over in desperate need like he doesn’t know where to even start. Then he crashes his lips on yours. You greedily open your mouth to let him come in and explore. You’ve never felt anyone’s touch before but he was guiding you though it. You started whimpering and whining and he groans to this.
“Have you ever done this before?”, he asks. You slowly shake your head no and feel a bit ashamed that you have no experience. His eyes get wide and he searches your eyes for answers, “you’re telling me no one has loved this pussy before?” and you simply shake your head again, blushing.
“My God.” He’s painfully hard and can’t believe the sweet prize he has in front of him. He reaches his hand down your loincloth and feels your sopping cunt. His eyes dilate and he realizes how pent up you must be. “Baby girl, you should’ve asked for my help a longgg time ago, you need a good dickin down”, he lowly growls.
You bite your lip and clearly look in distress from needing some relief. He kissed your neck and grazes it with his fangs, while kneading on your breasts under your top. Then he finally takes off your top and reveals the precious sight. He just stares, practically drooling. “Look at these perfect tits, all for me.” You whimper in response.
He starts kissing and sucking on your nipples, greedily tasting them as fast as he can. “Jake!”, you whine.
“Yeahhh, that’s right. My name on your pretty lips.”
He then rips off your loincloth. He marvels at your pretty pussy, wanting to open it like a Christmas present. Then he starts lapping on it. He sounded like a starved man, moaning and groaning on your heat like it’s the best meal he’s ever had. “Ohhh my Eywa!”, you moan out.
He sticks one finger in your needy hole and you throw your head back. “Holy fuckkk”, he groans, “such a tight little pussy for me, gonna have to stretch you out, girl.”
You’re a whimpering mess and he adds another finger in. You cry out in ecstasy and move your hips against him to get more pleasure. “Yeahhh baby, that’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers, use me for what you need.”
His words only edge you on as you start to feel the coil at the bottom of your stomach. You’re seeing stars and his pace is relentless, he coos at you, “gonna cum for me? I know you want to. Let it out, all over me baby.” And that pushes you over the edge as you spill out moans and a slew of Na’vi curses, to which his ears perk up to.
“Didn’t know you had a dirty mouth? I thought you were a good girl?”, he teases. “Won’t you be a good girl, and take my cock, hm?”
You’re still coming down from your high but you get a burst of energy once he takes his loincloth off and his massive, swollen cock springs up to slap his stomach. You can’t believe how big it is, lengthy and girthy. He just grins at your expression and how you can’t take your eyes off it.
“You like it, huh? You wanna get fucked silly?”, he degrades.
“Mhmmm” is all you can manage to get out.
He towers over you and flips you on all fours. You feel his dick at your entrance and close your eyes, anticipating sharp pain. He slowly goes in and let’s out a long groan, “Shittttttt, feels so fucking good”. You only feel the pain for a minute and feel so full. He bottoms out and slowly slides back out and you moan at the sensation. Then, he starts to pick up a steady pace.
“OHHHH, Jake!!! I can’t take it!”
“Yes you can and you are”, he pants. “Taking it so well for me. Keep being a good girl”.
He is absolutely rattling your shit, the sounds of skin slapping and your combined moans and pants filling the small room.
“Such a needy little slut, ain’t that right? Look at you, taking it like a champ. That’s right”, he praises.
He then grabs your braid and pulls you up against him, both still on your knees. He puts one hand on your clit and starts rubbing relentlessly, and the other hand around your mouth because you’re getting loud.
“As much as I love you screaming because of my cock, you don’t want Neteyam or someone to find us like this, hm?” he grunts, still fucking the daylights out of you. To be honest, it gives you a thrill to think of Neteyam seeing his dad fucking you after he rejected you.
You only whimper and bite his hand, as tears are falling out of your eyes now from the overwhelming pleasure. You feel the same coil from earlier rising up, as if you’re about to burst.
“Can feel you squeezing on me, shit you’re gonna make me cum” he pants throwing his head back in pure bliss.
Suddenly you hear shuffling steps at the door like someone just snuck up. You both snap your heads in it’s direction and are faced with Neteyam.
“Dad?!? Y/n?!?”, he shouts.
You freeze a little but are so close to your high you can’t be bothered enough by him. His dad just laughs and says “you see son, this is what you’re missing out on. And boy, does she feel gooddd.”
Neteyam looks horrified but can’t take his eyes off the scene, as if he’s frozen in shock. The blood drains from his face and he just stands there dumbfounded.
“Now watch your old man make a pretty girl cum on his cock. Look at her, she’s cock drunk and just needs that final push.”
He speeds up on your clit and pounds your cervix HARD. “OHHHHH!!!” you moan out.
Jake whispers in your ear, “come on sweet girl, cum on your first ever cock, it’ll feel real nice”, he coos.
And just like that the coil snaps and you feel a hot white rush all over your body. “I’m cumming, cumming, fucking cumminggg” you whine out.
“Yeahhh, that’s it. Making such a pretty mess everywhere”
He lets you ride out your climax and he finishes inside you, “fuckkkk” he moans. You’re both panting trying to regain your breath and strength.
Neteyam still stands at the entryway in shock, unable to get a word out. So much just happened that he can barely process. Seeing you naked and needy under his dad was not what he had planned for today.
“Well son, I can honestly say you fucked up, good luck finding someone better than her.”
#avatar fanfiction#avatar smut#jakesully smut#dilf jake sully#neteyam#jake sully#avatar#avatar the way of water#atwow
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The Bane of My Existence
Pairing:Trafalgar Law x reader
Content: some spoilers for Sabaody arc (nothing major), enemies to lovers! strawhat reader, reader and law are both stubborn and argumentative smh, reader is more optimistic though, law is awkward and not great at understanding his own feelings <3
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: part 1/2 for a little enemies to lovers fic! one of my favorite tropes but I almost never write about it... also I've been rewatching bridgerton and was very inspired by the relationship between Kate and Anthony, which is where the title comes from too! (can you guess what part 2 will be called?) anyway, enjoy and lmk your thoughts! :)
Part 2
Sabaody Archipelago is easily one of the coolest places you’ve visited so far. Not that Alabasta, Skypiea, Water 7, Thriller Bark weren’t cool too… but you’re a people person! And to get to see such a diverse mix of groups from all over the world converging here, on one island Archipelago, brings a genuine smile to your face. It truly does remind you of a theme park: from the attractions to the oversized trees and bubbles.
In fact, you’re so caught up in all the splendors of the carnival-esque grove that you don’t realize you’re being watched. Or, followed, rather.
The Heart Pirates, yet another crew from some vague corner of the world, have been tracking you for the better part of an hour now. Except, they’re only following their captain, who happens to be following you.
Hes not entirely discreet about it though, because at one point Bepo asks, “Um… Captain, why are we following them?”
Shachi responds unprompted, “Yeah, I’ve never seen their bounty poster so… what’s up?”
Law scowls, “I’m not following anyone.”
Though he is low-key following you, Law couldn’t give a good reason as to why. You walked past him and his crew on your way to meet up with the rest of your crew- the Strawhat Pirates- and he’d just sort of trailed after you once you’d gotten a safe distance ahead.
“Really? Because every time they stop for directions, we slow down. And we’ve turned at all the same spots, too… So it really does seem like we’re follo-“
“I am NOT following them.” He lies through (literally) gritted teeth.
Now, Trafalgar Law is in now way shape or form a believer in love at first sight. He’s never been in love period… but the feeling he gets from seeing you is something new and foreign. Like, he really wants to talk to you… he just doesn’t know what for. Law is still trying his best to come up with reasons to stop you and ask for your name when you overhear the brief argument between him and his friends.
With a quick glance over your shoulder, you spot a group of at least 10 on your trail. They’re in the middle of conversation, so they don’t notice you taking notice of them.
Your first instinct is to look around for your crew; but of course, they’re scattered across the groves of Sabaody Archipelago by now - as are you. “Sigh. I might just have to handle this in my own.” But, wait- who said they wanted to fight you? Maybe you should just approach them first, wouldn’t that give you the upper hand in some way? (It wouldn’t, but you can’t think of anything better than to try and charm your way out of a possible jumping with your friendliness and perfect smile.) So, you roll back your shoulders and take a breath before strolling back over the grass to your pursuers.
“Why would I be following some rand-“
“Because you have a crush on them!”
“Oh they’re cute, Captain, you should ask them to join!”
“Gasp! Yeah, then you can get to know-“
They all go silent (save for some quiet gasps) as you step toward the semi circle they’ve formed around one man- the only one not wearing a white uniform, who they call “Captain.” You tap him on the shoulder and he whips his head around.
“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?”
The man just stares at you for a moment with a frown. You fear that you might’ve been wrong about his intentions, until he blinks and mumbles, “Uh… Sure.”
Your smile returns- of course you weren’t wrong! Plus, he’s kind of hot, but you’d catalog that thought and come back to it on some lonely night in the future. “Great! I’m looking for grove 41, it’s where some of my friends are.”
You’d learned back in Water 7 that sometimes, it was best not to disclose who exactly you’re traveling with, nor the location of your ship. (At least, not when you’re infamous pirates.)
“Grove 41? I’m headed there too.”
The polar bear wearing who is also wearing a white uniform clears his throat.
“I thought we were heading to Grove 1, Captain?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to get in y’all’s way then-“
“Nah, I think Captain would love to show you the way.”
“Shachi!” The captain sneers. “We’ll meet back up at Grove 1 after I show them the way." Then, he looks you up and down. It's quick and analytical rather than flirtatious or intimidating. "Don’t cause me any trouble.”
You smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m y/n, by the way.”
“Trafalgar Law, and this is my crew, the Heart Pirates.” He gestures around the semi circle, then turns to face them, “You guys go take a break or something. I’ll be back shortly.”
“But Captain, we want to go with you!”
One of the men with red hair- Shachi, you’re pretty sure, elbows the polar bear.
“Hey!…” He looks down at Shachi then gasps like he suddenly had a revelation; “Ohhh. Sorry Captain, we’ll see you later!”
Law rolls his eyes. “See you soon.”
There's something about his dark hair and grey eyes that charms you, right off the bat. Or maybe it's his relaxed, confident demeanor. Possibly even his idiosyncratic style of clothing, and how he (and all of his crew) wore the same logo; so very organized and professional. But no matter the exact reason as to why, you find yourself quite happy to be in his company.
Alas, he’s not a very talkative man, so you make up most of the conversation with questions and your own introductory information. “-and that’s how I got here, to Sabaody!”
“Uh huh. And who did you say your crew was again?”
“I, ahem, I don’t travel with a crew.”
“Right.” He laughs dryly.
“What is it?”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“I- I’m not lying!”
“Look, you don’t have to tell me what crew you’re a part of,” Law explains, “but don’t lie and say you’re not a pirate at all.”
“Well… it’s generally not a good idea to tell strangers that you’re a pirate. Not even nice ones, like you."
Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach that unexpectedly appear when you call him nice, Law's burning curiosity is fed by your roundabout half-answer. “Ah, so you are one? What’s your bounty?”
“That’s not really any of your business.” Though you believe his intentions to be purely based in curiosity, you're second guessing allowing this man to lead you away on an island grove that you have never visited, nor know anything about. Still, your crew is nowhere in sight or hearing range, which worries you given just how loud they usually are.
“I’m paying you a favor by leaving my crew to escort you to where I’m assuming your ship is located- it’s the least you could do.” Law’s tone is more prickly than before.
“Well, I don’t need an escort, and you’ve already walked me halfway there and pointed me in the right direction.”
“Fine- then I’ll leave.”
His sudden change in mood from what you interpreted as shy to borderline aggressive throws you off. And so, having a similar moody temperament and stubbornness (though you’d never admit it after seeing it so clearly in him), you return the sentiment. “Fine by me.”
You continue walking forward while Law turns back, until he calls over his shoulder. “And by the way; you’ll need to find your way through the lawless zone up ahead if you want to get to Grove 41.” If condescending was a person, it would be him. You’re sure of it. “That, or I could’ve shown you a much safer shortcut.”
You pause, turn to face him, roll your eyes, and continue walking.
“What, you’re still not going to ask for my help?”
“Don’t need it!” Which, you really don’t. You’re plenty strong, but your bounty is small enough to not be worried. “I’m not scared of a law-less zone, if anything I think I’d welcome it.”
Your mocking words hurt his ego in a way he hasn't felt in years, taking him down several pegs.
You don't even stick around long enough to listen to him rebuke everything about you, from your high and mighty tone to your vain attempts at lying, ending his one sided argument with a very classy middle finger your way. So, Law grumbles all the way back to Grove 1 to find his crew, and hopes to never see you again. Meanwhile, you find your way to the other Strawhats. Your adventure with them continues, and you don’t have much time to think of your earlier encounter with a handsome pirate and possible-friend turned enemy (if you could even call him that.)
Law doesn't know if his ego (or wildly beating heart) could take another second in your presence- it just might burst if it had to endure any more of your witty comments or sly looks. It would, however, be an interesting theory to test further, should you ever meet again.
The prospect is both horrifying and thrilling to him at the same time.
#fanfic#one piece x reader#one piece#one piece x you#x reader#law x reader#law x you#law fluff#straw hat pirates#trafalgar law#law
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