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glitchtricks94 · 3 months ago

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Dancing feat. One Piece Men!

Genre: Fluff Content Warnings: None Characters: Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Shanks, Zoro, Sanji, Brook, Jinbe x Reader (separate) Summary: A simple group of separate drabbles loosely tied together over one theme; dancing with them. Network: @pixelcafe-network Kick back, relax, and enjoy~

Dracule Mihawk

Dancing with Mihawk is a once in a blue moon activity, treating such a thing with you with reverence and seriousness, almost taking it to levels that rival his dedication to his swordsmanship. He rarely likes to break the soothing sound of silence with anything outside of your voice, so even convincing him to allow you to put on a record of gentle piano or the sweetened notes of a longing violin are a stretch. The occasions he allows such a thing are either special or when he’s in a very warm and affectionate mood, which is rare, as previously mentioned, but if it isn’t the sweetest thing you’ve ever experienced when he puts on a record, one you’ve noted as being your favorite many moons ago when you both just barely began sharing a homestead, of his own accord, turning to you with eyes that normally were sharp and focused now filled with saccharine sweet honey of affection. Holding out a hand, he silently asks you a question, one that you could never refuse, giving your answer to him easily in the form of your hand in his as he gently tugs you towards his frame, no resistance on your end. He’s careful, steps precise. After Mihawk learned that you tended to sway gently when you chose to embrace him for longer periods of time, he took to the potential idea that you perhaps were fond of dancing. He could never find it in his heart to deny you something so simple. He began to practice during his time away from you when his work wasn’t consuming him. You always held his heart when you both were separated, as he held yours, so one night when he returned, exhausted and worn, he allowed the small jolt of energy you often shot through him to take root, as he pulled you to his chest and began to sway with you. You instantly fell into step with him, a joyous glow glittering in your eyes, one that Mihawk made sure to commit to memory as he leaned in to steal a weary kiss.

Mihawk’s movements grew more calculated the next time he chose to pull you into a dance, his eyes watching yours carefully as you gazed up at him with sheer adoration. Satisfaction radiated off him in waves, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he expertly guided you as if you’ve both already performed this routine a million times over. He twirled you out, away and back into his grasp, moving to put you in a low dip, lips grazing your neck in a feather light kiss. “My, aren’t you turning on the charm, tonight,” you teased, taking note of the small tick of a smirk pulling at the lips of your lover. A microscopic movement, really, but if your attention to detail didn’t help you decipher this man, then you felt as though he wouldn’t be twirling you in his arms right this moment. “Perhaps such an observation is correct, my rose,” Mihawk hummed, holding you close to his chest, seeming to enjoy the feeling of your hand in his, the other resting gently on his shoulder as you both silently danced towards an open balcony. The moonlight outside bathed both of you in an ethereal glow as your dance came to a close, Mihawk once more dipping you and pressing a kiss to your neck. “Consider me under your spell, my dear,” you crooned, eyes falling half lidded as a smile painted your features, Mihawk mirroring your expression in his own, beautifully stoic way.

“Good. I would expect such a thing from my betrothed,” Mihawk hummed, pulling you back up to where your chest was pressed against his once more. He trailed a hand up your arm to gently brush his fingers along your jawline, golden eyes memorizing every detail. “What’s such a tender look doing on your face, dearest?” “I do believe that it isn’t a crime to admire how my intended looks on a night such as this one.” “Oh, such poetry!” You gasped dramatically, a laugh escaping you and a sigh from Mihawk’s nose, his head shaking at the theatrics you posed. “You’re worse than that damned clown at times, my rose.” “Now, that’s just mean,” you snickered, playfully swatting Mihawk’s shoulder as he released another chuckle from his throat. “Is that so? Then, tell me, how could I ever earn your forgiveness?” “Kiss me again?” “As you wish, my rose,” Mihawk utters before sealing his lips to yours and guiding you back inside to continue your dance of passion.

Sir Crocodile

Any kind of dancing is rare with Crocodile, but when he indulges in a dance or two, he always ensures to take your breath away. He may be a large man, but with his own skill and a dash of help from his devil fruit abilities here and there, he’ll make it feel as though you both were gliding on thin air. When Sir Crocodile dances, he often chooses a simple waltz, a particular form you had said was a favorite of yours when it came to a more romantic atmosphere, it was something simple, yet elegant. Fitting for you in his opinion, as you never gravitated towards things that were gaudy and overly expensive; refreshing if not a tad relieving. He enjoyed and relished that you reveled in his attention rather than his wallet. Attending an upscale function with other influential figures of the past decade, you on his arm looking around with a practiced eye, your gaze trailing up to his disinterested face and locking eyes with him, Crocodile effortlessly navigated the room, talking with those of interest before taking a seat at the bar with you. He always seemed to find the most exciting detail about any location to be whether or not you are beside him, his time in Impel Down only further perpetuating such a thing and drawing him closer. Tonight, he seemed to feel more bold than usual about his attachment to you, as when the provided orchestra began to play a slower tempo, he stood, looking to you with practiced ease. “Would you care for a dance, my treasure?” He asked, his voice low enough for you to hear but not draw the attention of others. You simply flashed him a brilliant smile as you stood from your position atop the barstool, stepping right into his open grasp with so much trust and confidence, Sir Crocodile could shed a sarcastic tear of pity. He truly didn’t know why you held such confidence in him to not hurt you, given you bore witness to his treatment of others when they outgrew their usefulness to him. Perhaps he should unpack that another time. Stepping out onto the dancefloor, Sir Crocodile easily pulled you to him and twirled you into a perfect position, the two of you effortlessly synching up with each other, him taking the lead. That feeling as if you were both dancing on thin air swept over you, and you found yourself unable to look away from your beloved’s face, his expression cold, and eyes barely glittering with enough warmth to be counted as a mere ember from the bonfire you had constructed from within his chest. You were utterly captivated by him and he knew it.

Oh, such a pretty gem you were, polished to perfection in the fine garb he had chosen for you to wear that evening, that glorious glimmer in your eye reminding him of mountains of gold as you lost yourself in his presence; it all dripped down and settled on Crocodile’s tongue like a finely aged wine. He simply couldn’t get enough. The dance ended with a simple bow to him, his hand never leaving yours as he returned the gesture, tucking his hook behind his back before you both stood upright once more, returning to your previous stances with you hanging off of his arm the way he preferred. The evening was folding to a close for you both, as Crocodile’s patience was beginning to crumble with those around him and you could feel your eyelids begin to grow heavier. Solitude was needed for you both. What you never expected when you returned home was for your much larger lover to pull you closer to him once more and perform a few simple steps to the waltz you performed earlier with him that very evening, eliciting a soft, sugary laugh from your throat to match the smug smile he wore on his charred face. “You’re more energetic than I thought!” You snickered, looking up at Sir Crocodile with mirth dancing in your eyes. “Savor it, my treasure, for it will not last long.” “I never said I wouldn’t, my sun,” you coo before you found your lips taken in a long, languid kiss.

Buggy The Clown ~700 words

Buggy was never really the dancing type. At least, not with all those unflashy, fancy types of moves. Buggy was made to sparkle, shine and forever be in the spotlight; the eccentricity, the wild charm, the loud, booming voice, that’s what made Buggy who he was! It was quite the contrast to when he met you, a rowdy, but rather traditional performer at some pirate pub he and his crew crashed at after a rough stint on the waters. Somehow, after the liquor and cocktails poured like waterfalls, he managed to charm you into joining his crew as the pretty little thing that hung on his disembodied arm. Buggy was honestly elated that you joined as he could hardly take his eyes off you, and the crew often went to you if they needed the clown to loosen up a bit on everyone, to which you were happy to put on the facade of the pouty lover who wanted more “Buggy time,” as you phrased it. It worked often and actually helped your beloved captain de-stress as well. It was during these days that Buggy learned more about what kind of performances you often did while back on that pint sized island you used to live on. You often loved to dance, stuff that reminded him of some prissy ballet dancers he came across ages ago, except, you seemed to blend it with older ballroom dances. Hell if he knew which ones, though, he’s a clown, he’s bright and flashy not overly fancy, and Buggy was sure as anything not about to start making fundamental changes about himself or his lifestyle. Blue eyes trailed after your spinning figure, watching you with content pooling in their gaze as a relaxed, red painted smile rested below them. Your hands were raised as if someone was holding them as you began to spin, giving Buggy an idea. His smile morphed into a playful smirk as he popped off his hands, floating them over to slot over yours. Your eyes shot up to the foreign feeling that tickled at your fingers, a smile overtaking your features seeing such familiar leather trying to anchor to your hands. So he was finally taking you up on your offer!

You easily twined your fingers with Buggy’s, hands slotting together like puzzle pieces, your eyes darting to his with a sparkle in them as you resumed dancing, twirling and tugging his hands as he pulled at your own, causing constant missteps in your little performance before starting to just use his strength to spin, pull, and maneuver you to his heart’s content, laughter filling the air. “Buggy, baby, darling, my sweet little candy coated gumdrop,” you call, playfulness dripping from your voice. Buggy groaned and looked at you with a deadpan stare for a moment before melting into a fit of giggles. “Yes, my star?” “Will you finally be allowing me to teach you bits of my routine? You know I’ve been wanting to!” You said, your tone taking on a slightly melodic quality. Buggy hummed before shrugging upon seeing you give him your infamous puppy eyes. “Alright, alright,” he huffed, no real annoyance in his voice. Getting up from his perch on a barrel, Buggy trotted over to you, a lazy smile slowly painting over his features until he stopped in front of you, raising his arms and reattaching his floating body parts to himself. “Start teaching, starlight. You got yourself a student here.” You let out a giggle as you started trying to show him how you moved through your moves so fluidly, Buggy clumsily copying your movements and grabbing onto you to keep his balance more often than he would ever dare to admit. Buggy would also never admit to purposely messing up whenever he fell down just so he could see your smile and hear your encouraging words. He’d never tell you that whenever you gifted him your beautiful praise, love and encouragement he felt as if he was tasting a sweet honey on his tongue, that he valued your words more than anyone else’s. It’s such a shame he can’t hide such things from you, but you don’t mind keeping your lips sealed. “C’mon, honey, let’s try again!”

Red-Haired Shanks

You didn’t take him for a dancer. A partier? Oh, yes, good times always rolled with Shanks. A drinker? Absolutely, you could guess he could empty twenty barrels of booze by himself. A dancer? That was unexpected. You felt a bit silly, however, as Shanks was all about having a good time and sharing the happiness with others. It was practically integral to him as a person. “You’re staring again,” came the voice of the ever so calm Benn Beckman, first mate and your most trusted confidant. “I have no idea what you’re talking ‘bout, Beck,” you drawled, sipping more rum from your glass. Beckman’s charcoal gaze met yours over the rim of your drink, an expression of exasperation being worn on his features. “What’s that look for?” “You know exactly what it’s for,” Benn huffed, pulling a cigarette from the case he often carried with him, a lighter following suit as he lit up the end and took a deep inhale. You scrunch your nose as he blew the smoke in your face upon exhaling. “No, I don’t. Please, enlighten me,” you spoke, waving your hand to clear away the excess smoke from your face. “You’ve been staring at Shanks more often than not, lately,” Benn explained, directing his attention to his old friend, who was gladly dancing with a woman, smiling and twirling her with ease. He peered at you through the corner of his eye, seeing your glare being directed at Shanks and the bar goer. If Benn knew you wouldn’t punch him, he’d say he spotted a little green in your eye. “‘Specially when the guy starts dancing around while having a good time. Hell, even when he’s just sitting and drinking with us, you hardly look away. It’s getting pathetic at this point.” “Don’t you have women to charm, Beckmann?” You asked, trying to ignore how you managed to allow Ben to call you out on your behavior. Were you really that obvious?

“Don’t you have a move to make?” “Keep your nose out of my business,” you pouted, earning a full blown laugh from him. “I’d love to, really, I would, but you keep bringing it up during our late night chats.” “Come on, you know I’m drunk when I bitch at you!” “Not drunk enough to forget him, though, right?” Benn teased, pulling genuine amusement from your flustered reactions, your face painted red from embarrassment rather than the four drinks you’ve had within the last few hours. Which is why Benn Beckman, your dear friend, didn’t mention that the reason Shanks even began taking to dancing was because he had mentioned you had told him that you used to be a traveling dancer before you decided to ultimately settle in with the crew. He only told Shanks about it after overhearing a comment on how good your footwork was during a sparring session. No one could ever rip the tones of nostalgia that rang out from your voice whenever you spoke of all the performances you gave to those on the streets of many island streets. Which is another reason why Benn chose to not tell you that Shanks was approaching the table with a determined glimmer in his eyes. “Well, well, look at you two. I’m not interrupting a lovers’ spat, am I?” Shanks teased, moving to one side so he could drape his arm across your shoulders where you sat. He let out a light chuckle when you practically jumped three feet in the air.

“Fucking hell!” You screeched, glaring at your captain now. “We need to put a bell on you or something!” Shanks pulled his arm away to raise it in mock defense. “Never meant to scare ya!” He laughed. “It’s fine,” you sighed, running a hand down your face, noting that Benn had slipped away, leaving you alone with the captain of both your crew and your personal fantasies. “Need anything, cap?” “Oh, nothing much, maybe a dance with you?” Shanks asked casually, making you blink in surprise. You began to take note of the atmosphere in the bar; softer music was fluttering through the air as voices quieted down, a few stray couples moving about the room and occupying the dancefloor when you stole a glance at it. To top it off, the man that’s been haunting your heart in the dead of night is now standing before you, asking you to indulge in your old passion with him. You felt like you were dreaming as you mustered an awkward smile and took his hand in yours. You’ve never felt so light as you swayed gently with Shanks, his hand in yours and your other arm nearly looped around his neck. You swore that he seemed to be as elated as you were with the turn of events. As the song went on, Shanks shifted his grip, moving so his arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Shanks couldn’t believe how dazzling you were while dancing, letting him to lead you about with ease, thankfully not noticing when he misstepped because he got too lost in your eyes. You were so relaxed, looked so content and felt so right in his grasp, he could hardly stand it. Alas, everything came to a close and he was left hungry for more. “Thanks for the dance,” Shank hummed, smiling warmly at you. “Mind if I get another sometime?”

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro and dancing are two words that don’t seem to mix well, much like oil and water. It never suited him, and he never held any interest. He had goals to pursue, a dream to chase, there was no time for something like dancing. Zoro felt like his world was flipped upside down when Luffy came back to the ship with you in tow. A bright smile painted Luffy’s features as he excitedly told the crew about how cool you were; how he saw you dancing while in the middle of town, practically manipulating fire to your will like his brother did, stars glittering in his eyes while you basked in the compliments with a bashful blush coloring your cheeks. It’s been a few weeks now, and Zoro, alongside the rest of the crew, have all seen your skills at work with your creative and fiery dances, the batons you twirled captivating them, the batons now doubling as your weapons with a little tune up from both Usopp and Franky. Zoro often found himself impressed by your skills, watching you perform to lively music happily composed on the spot by Brook, the sheer concentration you held earning a deep, unwavering respect from the swordsman. Eventually, Zoro began to pay closer attention to you/ First it was the way you shared different smiles with those around you; the bright ones that made your eyes crinkle shut as you laughed with Luffy, the calm, gentle grins you mimicked with Robin as you both spoke over tea on deck, the coy smirks you’d throw at Sanji when he swooned over you, and the sheepish smiles you’d give Brook when he complimented your practiced routines after finished sets, just to name a few. His favorites were the ones that you’d share with him, however. When Zoro’s around, he sees you visibly relax more, his eyes noting that you’d let him see you at your most natural, your attention on him feeling easy, feeling right, and the matching cast of expressions stilling a strange twist in his chest he got when you were with someone like Sanji. He even noticed you hanging around more when he was training, the attention feeling good. You brought in another sense of comforting routine, until a simple question hit him out of left field.

“Why don’t you let me teach you how I dance?” You asked one day, making Zoro shift his attention to you out of the corner of his eye. “I think you’d have fun.” That gave Zoro pause for a moment, the swordsman placing the weights he was using down to fully face you, his face painted in bewilderment. “Why would I do that?” “For fun?” “No. I don’t think so,” Zoro spoke, shaking his head and folding his arms over his chest. You pouted slightly before shrugging and getting to your feet. “Oh well, I guess I’ll just leave you with your shoddy footwork,” you quipped, a smirk playing on your lips while you made your way to the crow’s nest entrance. You knew you had him hooked. “Hey! What do you mean shoddy?!” Zoro barked, moving to catch up to you. You looked at him over your shoulder with a shrug. “Just saying, you might wanna focus on your footwork. The world’s future greatest swordsman needs to be kept up in top shape,” you spoke, brushing Zoro off, much to his annoyance. “I mean, I could teach you an effective way to improve, but you wouldn’t be interested.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “What I’m saying is that I could help you improve your footwork, but you won’t like how.” “If you think you can show me a better way to improve, I’d like to see it,” Zoro huffed, reaching out and grasping your shoulder with his heavy palm. You flashed him a smile, one that made his stomach feel strange. “Hope you like cardio.” In a flash, the two of you were on the deck of the Sunny, the warm rays of sunshine bathing over you two as you demonstrated the forms for your routine, gently guiding and correcting Zoro’s stances with a patience unlike he’s ever seen you carry over to others. He could swear you were somehow calmer than Robin as you took him through each step of the dance you had performed countless times, the attention feeling charged between you somehow. Each brush of your hand seemed to electrify his skin and make a strange ache in his chest appear while simultaneously leaving Zoro craving more of it. It was both revolting and addicting, the combating feelings that surged through him clashing like sharpened blades. “Excellent stance, Zoro, it’s perfect!” Your voice snapped him out of his strange daze, his tunnel vision focus returning swiftly. He grunted in response as you beamed at him. “It’s not that difficult, anyone could do this,” he huffed. You smirked at him once more. “Oh, really?” you spoke, placing your hands on your hips. “Let’s try doing all of this to tempo now.” “Yohoho!” Brook chortled, happily strolling over to both you and Zoro at the signal of your hand, violin perched on his shoulder and bow clutched in his boney phalanges. “From the top!” You were pleased to see Zoro struggling to copy your fluid movements, it was quite the sight!

Vinsmoke Sanji

Ever the romantic, Sanji always found the act of a romantic dance filling some part of his dreams among the usual thoughts of Nami and Robin and recipe ideas he’d love to try out to win their hearts. It was just in his very nature to try and be as charming as he could be after the rushes of excitement in his blood died down, throwing on a cool smile and spouting soft, flirtatious words at whatever beauty managed to capture his attention. You and Sanji both joined the crew around the same time that Luffy, Usopp, Zoro and Nami all arrived at, and subsequently nearly destroyed, the Baratie. You, bright eyed and utterly stunning, were a scrambling, stuttering mess of a waitress desperately trying to fulfil the expectations set upon you by Zeff, and frankly, you weren’t meeting his expectations. It was almost nostalgic looking back at those days and as he saw you now, Sanji couldn’t take his eyes off you. Your bright, outgoing smile captured his heart as he felt the familiar rush of joy flood his system. You’d grown so much over the time you both sailed with Luffy and the crew, and seeing the side effects of that progress was like looking directly at the sun; warm, brilliant and blinding. You were all supposed to be docking at another island, and according to Usopp, it looked like the place was populated and gearing up for a festival. Any suspicions were confirmed as the Thousand Sunny pulled into port, the locals welcoming them with open arms to share in the spirit of generosity, everyone truly wishing to spread the very rare goodwill. Luffy, as expected, was ecstatic and instantly reciprocated. Nightfall came, and the lights of the lanterns and street poles filled the cobblestone streets, tall tiki style torches illuminating the beach where the heart of the festival took place. Sanji was in heaven as he took in the sight of so many beautiful women clad in their beachwear, compliments pouring from his mouth like a waterfall. Standing at the sidelines of the celebration, you watched the blond chef flirt and woo numerous women, the sight leaving a bad taste in your mouth. You had been wanting to try and see if Sanji would be willing to share a dance with you, and you’d been building your courage up bit by bit throughout the day. You loved dancing, you always felt so free whenever Brook or Chopper or Usopp let you hang around and try out different moves with them, often ending up in a tangled pile of limbs and laughter. Watching him get so distracted by other women, however, you felt any confidence beginning to crumble. You shook your head, washing away your thoughts.

You took a deep breath before strutting into the fray, making your way to Usopp, who was happily telling his stretchy stories to an awed crowd of locals, the look of wonder filling their beings being endlessly amusing to you as you knew the truth and Usopp was a rather terrible liar in your opinion. You started laughing, your smile returning and catching the attention of the blond lovecook. Everything seemed to brighten for Sanji the moment his eyes grazed a glimpse of that smile you bore, the world and other women becoming a bit duller compared to you. His gaze never left your form as you floated about the party before your eyes met and you swiftly made your way to him. “Sanji!” you cheered, stepping in front of him and taking his hands in yours, soon tugging him to follow you towards the makeshift dance floor. “C’mon, dance with me!” Sanji felt his heart crawl into his throat as he wordlessly followed you, trying to keep his composure. Where you happily moved and twirled to the music provided, Sanji followed after in time, easily stepping into the mold set before him for the roadmap of your movements. He couldn’t say this didn’t graze his ideal of a beautiful, romance fueled swing or even a hot, tension filled tango, but he couldn’t say he didn’t fully enjoy this experience with you. The night wore on, and things were slowing down, the tempo of the music dropping as the crowd began to trickle back inland. Sanji had lost track of both time and you. He figured you must have wandered off after he closed his eyes for a moment too long, your figure being swept away in the crowd. He couldn’t find you on the beach, and when rudely questioning Zoro, he learned you had left to catch your breath further inland. Sanji wasted no time searching for you, looking up and down the cobblestone pathways and streets until he found you alone on a bench, looking up at the stars. You looked peaceful under the light of the moon, and once more Sanji was captivated.

Moving closer, he cleared his throat, throwing on a cool smile as he approached you. You turned to look at him as soon as you heard the sound. “Hey.” “Hey, couldn’t find you back on the beach.” “Oh, sorry, I got a little overwhelmed. I wanted a bit of quiet,” you explained weakly. “Mind if I join you?” Sanji asked. You smiled weakly, leading him to come sit beside you on the bench. Sanji looked up at the stars above you both. “It’s a beautiful night.” “Yeah, I guess it is…” “Are you alright?” “Yeah, ‘M fine, just…” you sighed, trying to steady yourself. “You seemed like you were having fun, why’d you look for me?” “Because I wanted to make sure you were okay. You mean a lot to me, you know,” Sanji replied, his flirtatious mask falling in favor of a semi-serious exterior. “I’m fine, like I said, but I guess, I dunno, you looked like you were having more fun around those other women.” “I was having fun, but I still enjoy my time with you. You’re every bit as lovely as any of those other beauties, you know. You’re like an angel; warm, beautiful and sweet,” Sanji said, directing his gaze to you, his visible eye filled with warmth. It made you ache. “Not really...I couldn’t even ask you to dance like a normal person, I just sort of…dragged you away into it.” “I didn’t mind! I loved it,” Sanji exclaimed, placing a hand over one of yours. “Although, if you still wanted to ask, I wouldn’t be opposed.” “But there’s no music or-” “Hush. Listen closely.”

Silence swept over the two of you, the sounds of the sea and distance tunes of a slower song filling the air blanketing over you both, causing your face to warm. “Oh,” you spoke, face warming as your mind caught up to your racing heart. You awkwardly cleared your throat and looked up at Sanji, a shy smile on your face. “Uhm, would…would you like to dance with me, Sanji?” He certainly knew you didn’t need to answer with nothing more than a nod before pulling you close. Sanji swifty slotted you against him, one hand placing itself on your lower back to pull you closer whilst his other took your hand in his, your free palm resting itself on his shoulder as he slowly began to sway. You followed him perfectly, your eyes never leaving him as you felt a trance wash over you. Sanji was a man that breathed romance and longing, it came naturally to him, and the romantic dance he was sharing with you displayed this trait perfectly as you both became lost in one another.

Soul King Brook

You and Brook blended together perfectly; a dancer from the warm islands of the South Blue, a musician from the tides of the West Blue, it felt as though you both were destined to intercept one another in a beautiful courtship ever since you stepped foot on the Thousand Sunny. All Brook wishes for is that he had met you sixty years sooner, then he could’ve been the man he honestly felt you deserved, with flesh and muscle aiding in his capabilities to show his sheer adoration for you. The skeletal musician expressed as such to you, and you gleefully chased those thoughts away with honey sweet words, warm hands on his skull and a loving kiss to his teeth before shepherding him into a sweeping swing number that always melted his nonexistent heart. Brook always counted his lucky stars whenever he was able to see you dance; it was your trade accompanied by a pretty voice befitting a siren’s croon when you sang along to the melodies he spun. He felt so lucky your little musical family was more than happy to see you off as the crew set sail away from your home island, all of them cheering for you to write and live well alongside him and his crewmates. Another day was passing as Brook listened to your voice float gently beside the notes he worked from his violin, your eyes closed and hands resting just below your throat from the barrel you claimed as your perch. The skeletal musician couldn’t help but find himself wandering through the sound of your voice, his reverie only broken by a sharp, misplaced rub of his bow and slip of his finger, causing you to falter and look at him with wide eyes. You staggered a giggle before breaking out in laughter, Brook joining in soon after. “You’re losing yourself again, maestro,” you teased, getting up and taking a few short steps to stand before your lover. “It would seem so, my muse,” Brook replied, tucking his beloved violin and bow to his chest to free his other hand and lovingly brush the tips of his phalanges over your cheekbone. “But could you really blame this old pile of bones? Why, you’re singing so sweetly you could raise the dead! Yohoho!”

Brook felt a joyful warmth spread deep through the marrow when he saw you laugh and reach for him. He gave pause when you plucked his prized instrument from his arm and placed them where you previously sat, turning back to him with a glimmer in your eye. Brook’s slightly hunched posture, born from curiosity, instantly straightened when you held out your hand to him. “Well, can your dear muse have this dance with the dead?” you asked, earning yourself another laugh from Brook. “You hardly need to ask, dearest,” he replied, easily taking your much smaller hand in his own, both of you swiftly stepping closer and beginning to fall into step, Brook expertly guiding you like he’s nearly always done, the world feeling as though it was melting away until all that could paint its canvas being the colors of your love. You looked up at Brook’s face, eyes trailing over every crevice the bones revealed to you among the wild mane that he forever wore. You cracked a humored smile. “Hm? Now just what is going through your mind, lovely?” “Oh, just the first few times we tried dancing together,” you answered, a delighted titter leaving your frame as you were gracefully twirled and pulled back to Brook’s side. “We were both so clumsy, trying to learn how to place and balance ourselves!” “Yohoho! Indeed we were! I certainly wasn’t used to a small, young thing like yourself wanting to sway with me!” Brook chortled. “Always wanting to lead was also quite fun to counter,” you felt heat creep up your face as you looked away in embarrassment as your skeletal love pulled you ever closer to him, leaning in to whisper into your ear. “You were quite the fun little challenge, muse.”

You let out a squeal after his whisper ghosted over your ear, a sharp pinch to your thigh helping ground you both back into the moment. You barked out a laugh as you pushed Brook back, the dead man stumbling as he cackled at your reaction. He knew you didn’t mind, you hardly ever did. “You little sneak!” You laughed, looking up at brook with narrowed eyes and a sharp smile, voice holding no real bite. “How dare you toy with me! I’m just your vulnerable, little muse! Your sweet dancer, your beloved siren!” Brook let out another chortle as he bowed to you, taking your hand in his and bringing it close to his teeth. “That you are, my dear. All those things and so much more,” he cooed, affection dancing in his tone before you felt the chilled, smooth press of bone against the warmth of your knuckles. “I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive this smitten soul king.” You couldn’t stop the gentle expression that bloomed over your features, your heart fluttering like the graceful wings of a butterfly to match. “I could never stay too angry with a gentleman like you, I suppose,” you said, meeting your eyes to empty sockets. “Though, I would like you to make it up to me.” “And how may I do that, my dear?” “I think you know how, lovely,” you hummed, Brook letting out a soft ‘yohoho’ with your antics. He swiftly followed your thoughts, twirling you and sweeping you away in yet another dance, one that only you two could truly feel the music and vocals within your very souls.

First Son of the Sea Jinbe

The calm in your storm is how you would describe Jinbe. He always had a way of dragging you back down to Earth should your thundering thoughts ever send you into orbit, acting as your guide whenever you find yourself lost in the sea of a starless sky within your mind. Gentle, strong, comforting, warm, Jinbe was perhaps everything you could ever dream of having in a lover and more. It had to definitively be more given the added grace that Jinbe was attempting to carry in this awkward sway you both found yourselves in. Keyword: attempting. Deep in the night while the ship was docked and the others were on shore unwinding and enjoying themselves, you and the towering fishman were on deck, a dial emitting soft music over the dimly lit areas that populated the Thousand Sunny, the pair of you pressed close together and awkwardly trying to dance along to the romantic ambiance that you curated. Jinbe had one hand resting on your shoulder, the other carefully cradling the back of your head, your own hands resting on his much broader chest, the size difference between you two being terribly stark in this position. You never minded such a thing, you always saw just how much of a gentle giant your beloved could be, the way he carried himself and treated others being a tipping point that sent your heart overboard. Such a characteristic shone brighter than the sun with how carefully Jinbe touches you. You looked up into the beautiful purple eyes that decorated Jinbe’s features, his expression softening as he watched your growing smile glow in the soft lights around you both. Jinbe felt himself falling in love all over again whenever you look at him this way; like he had just hung your moon and stars, like he was the only person in the world, like he was all yours. And he was, and always would be. When you first brought up this little idea for a simple date for you two, Jinbe found himself unsure, as his life was dedicated to being that of a trained warrior, not a man meant to glide across a ballroom floor. Several times throughout the weeks at sea he had to remind himself that you would not be disappointed in him for failing to perfect a simple box step, you’d just look at him like you do now, beaming with delight that he simply put in the effort to try and learn a few basic steps. His heart was racing against his ribcage as he held your gaze, hoping you couldn’t feel it beneath your delicate fingertips. The potential of potentially embarrassing himself in front of you paled to the weight lying within his mind.

The music shifted, so did Jinbe, trying to direct you as gracefully as he could, trying to hold that vision you held of him and had told him of so long ago. “You’re my rock, Jinbe,” you uttered softly into the night, your gaze fixed solidly on the ocean, eyes missing that light that had initially captivated the fishman. “You…make things feel okay. Like I can breathe even though I’m drowning.” “Do you often feel that way, little one?” “Yeah…But…” you take a breath, steadying yourself. “It’s different with you. You feel safe. Safer than the others. Don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful, but…I don’t feel as…I don’t feel as connected to them as I do to you. You’re just different, in a good way.” Jinbe stared at you for a long while before you started speaking again. “You’re like the calm in my storm.” The night you told him that, he knew he felt the same. His own mind echoed for him to give until he could not offer anymore, demanding he scrounge up more and be the one to turn to, you included, but you never hesitated to offer what you could to him in return, and for ages now he only truly accepted your help, your aid, he always reached for you first, slowly taking the other hands extended to him by the other crew members. He relished in being a person you could rely on to bring you back to reality, and returning the favor, even in ways as small as gifting you his heart and sharing this dance with you made him feel warm. Yet it still did nothing for his nerves, even as he began to slip into smoother glides and sways to the music, leading you with his movements and practically making stars dance in your irises in sync with them. As the music began to fade, Jinbe found himself standing on the lawn of the Sunny, a contented you resting in his arms. You let out a pleased sigh as you moved your head to rest your cheek against the slightly exposed skin of his chest, resting just above the sun that marked his skin. “That was perfect, Jinbe,” you breathed, your voice carried away by the gentle wind and wrapping around his heart like a vice. Jinbe couldn’t back out, not after spending so much time living in his own head, replaying the many ways his question could be answered. He took a deep breath, garnering your attention once more as you stared up at him with a curious hum. “Thank you, my pearl. I also enjoyed our waltz,” he spoke softly, moving a hand to cup your cheek as he took a step back from you, the residual moonlight coupling with the dim glow of candle fires that still burned, bathing you in a glow Jinbe could only describe as bewitching. “However, I do feel the need to ask a favor of you.”

“What do you need, love? You can ask me anything.” Any more words you had died on your tongue as you witness Jinbe step back further, the man getting down on one knee to be eye level with you while plucking something from an inner pocket on his coat, the small box being a familiar sight you’ve only read about. Presenting his hand to you, box cradled in his massive palm, Jinbe takes another deep breath, his eyes staring deeply into the confines of your very being. “My pearl, would you do me the honor of allowing me to be by your side until the end of time?” Tears sprung to your eyes as you nodded, and Jinbe opened the box, revealing a simple ring with a pearl nestled beside two small rubies on a beautiful golden band. With a relieved, and overjoyed smile, he carefully slipped the ring on your finger and allowed you to pull him into a kiss, the mutual happiness rolling off the two of you in waves. Another dial was set, the music starting as Jinbe pulled you up into his grasp, your feet dangling over the tops of his own as he began to dance with you again, contended and delighted that he could forever be the calm in your storm and you could be the anchor in his sea.

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moniheartsluffy · 1 year ago

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A DADDY’s GIRL

characters featured: crocodaddy, warlords, marines.

genre: fluff

notes: father!crocodile x daughter!reader, PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP, black!coded reader, crocodaddy and his baby girl🥹

grammar warning!! not rlly proofread…this been sitting in the drafts for a hot minute…

• mans love him some of his daughter.

• safe to say his world now revolves around you. he never thought he would want kids but when you popped out….oh he was bringing you everywhere.

• he thought the lady (your mother) was bullshittin when she said she was pregnant. he’s experienced many women trying to trap him before, so he just brushed it off wit a “yea ok”

• oh but when he saw that baby bumpppp. his whole mood changed. he started filling out paperwork to get full custody all ready😭 and ofc he won bc…it’s him. (pls. just work wimme here)

6yr old you waking up in an overly decent sized room due to the sun coming through your curtains and your TALL ASS father coming into the room. you’re trying to rub the sleep from your eyes as you sit up to look at him while he motions to pick you up.

“morning princess.” he says while placing a light kiss to your cheek. in response to his actions you simply place your head on his shoulder and allow yourself to be whisked away.

“still sleepy, hmm?” he says placing another kiss to the top of your head and watches as you nod, confirming his accusation.

now its a lot of things that crocodile has people do for him like his dirty work…but when it comes to you he allows them to do your hair, pick out outfits, feed you, etc. but he adores the simple things like getting you out of bed, tucking you in at night and other simple things that falls in between. other than that he leaves it to the maids he’s hired.

he takes you everywhere..and i mean everywhere. he has a meeting? he’s putting you in the cutest business outfit ever. the warlords are called together? he already got snacks and toys packed for you. anywhere this man is going he’s taking you and he doesn’t care about repercussions.

with that being said…a warlord meeting was called.

so..everyone walking in and taking their respective seats, meanwhile crocodile walking in with you in his arms and he’s late.

now we all know boa isn’t fond of men so as soon as crocodile puts you on the ground she’s swiping you away..immediately. she thinks he’s corrupting your mind or sum. but you cannot tell me boa would not love you. she’s turning you into the best feminist ever. (gotta start em off young!!) she even though about taking you to the kuja island… and never bringing you back. after a while, her and your dad start arguing so you go speak to some of the other warlords.

mihawk was just minding his business and wishing he had stayed home. you stumble over with a pack of fruit snacks, holding them out for him to take them. “you looked upset so here!” your tiny voice chirps up at him. he couldn’t bring himself to reject your offer, especially when you looked up at him with a determination to make him ‘feel better’. so he simply raised his eyebrow at you and took them while giving you this thanks and a smile that wasn’t too noticeable, but you saw it.

now…it’s two men in this entire room that you simply can’t express enough emotion for. doflamingo and gecko moria. now to be frank, you didn’t despise doffy like you did the other one but you weren’t exactly fond of him either. it’s like you tolerated him. he was kind to you but something about him just seemed off.

nevertheless your feet carried you to where doflamingo sat on a windowsill waiting for this excuse of a meeting to start. “hi doffy.” the pureness in your voice snapping him out of whatever unhinged things he was thinking about. “hello there little one. you look so adorable in your f/c dress.” he replied in a mellow tone. you muttered a small “thank you” before asking him about the whereabouts of kuma, at the last meeting he asked you what your favorite flower was and you finally had an answer for him but much to your dismay the blonde haired man had no idea. (not like he cares but hey)

ultimately choosing to ignore the presence of the other being in the room you swiftly made your way over to jinbe and had a short conversation with him regarding the sunflower drawing that adorned your dress, the fishman states how much he loved the design. after that ended you made your way back with your father and the warlord meeting began shortly after.

warlord meetings were always a pain but having you there always made it seem a little bit better for everyone—even the marines thought you were adorable although, they never showed it..except for garp. he’s a grandpa, ofc he’s gonna act like one towards a child. so every time the meeting truly starts garp takes you away and you two walk around the marineford gardens. he also takes you to sengoku’s office so you can see his goat and eat snacks while he annoys sengoku.

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evilgwrl · 1 year ago

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ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (Two)

Note: I feel like this is so bad im sorry!!!!

CW: Angst, titty sucking, passionate asf sex, simon missed ur pussy and you very much and vise versa, breeding kink, PIV (no protection, pls use it irl), squirting, simon eats the FUCK out of ur pussy, multiple orgasms, praise, hint of degradation, possessive!simon, OVERSTIMULATION, slight daddy kink… sorry

Part One

It was a quiet ride, the subtle sweeps of cars fleeting by as Simon gripped the wheel, eyes trailing off to the side to look at you briefly. Your head was leaned against the window, your knees knocking together anxiously as your daughter babbled in the back, cooing about how Mummy and Daddy were now back together.

You tried to hide the shed of tears that filtered across your iris, every small childish mumble like a stab to the gut as you listened to the genuine happiness in her tone. You would turn around occasionally with a small smile as you reached out to tickle her foot, giggles filling the car.

Simon pulled in, the car bouncing slightly as it hit the gravel carpark, his hand swerving into a spot before he turned to the back. “You excited, baby?”

Ella’s face lit up as she fumbled to take off her seatbelt, “Get me, Daddy! Get me! I wanna see the lions!” It was refreshing knowing she still viewed Simon as her hero, no matter how distant he was in their lives. You knew that even though your ex-husband was rarely around, his time with them did everything it could to mend the time apart. Toby woke up at the commotion, the toddler having slept the whole way there despite his older sister’s constant bickering about what animals she had to see first.

Everything seemed to flash past you as you walked inside, the whir of kids and noise sending your brain into overdrive as your eyes flickered to Simon with Ella swinging around on his shoulders and Toby kicking his legs in the stroller. You looked away; breath shaky as you attempted to compose yourself. This was supposed to be a happy day, for all of you, yet seeing him with your children, something that was supposed to be normal, felt so distant and unknown. Gathering yourself, you plastered a fake smile, hands reaching out to pinch your son’s cheeks as you grabbed the stroller.

Your heart hammered in your chest for the remainder of the day, fingers tingling with anxiety that bled into your veins, consuming your lungs with what seemed like everything but oxygen. It was a series of squeals and commotions from your young ones, their elation evident through the bright glow of their face, soft red resting on the apples of their cheeks. As the day quieted down, Toby slumped in the stroller as you tucked him into the car seat, his new plush crocodile cradled into his arms, mouth wide open as subtle breaths snored out.

Ella was cradled into Simon’s shoulder, her shoes half hanging off as she clutched onto him, dead asleep. You settled into the ride home yet your anxiety only seemed to heighten. You were alone with Simon, with no kiddish voices to break the tension, brown orbs glaring into the side of your face.

“Should we talk about this morning?”

You scoffed. “You have some nerve asking to talk about this morning,” you screamed into a hush, “What you did was completely disrespectful. Not only did you break into my house and kick my date out, but you left our kids in the car! What the fuck were you thinking?”

He cleared his throat, almost like he wanted to hold back how he felt. You noticed the white in his knuckles as he gripped the wheel, right eye twitching as he stared at the squiggles of tar ahead. “I don’t want our kids growing up thinking it’s normal for parents to separate. They need their mum and dad together, y/n.”

The world silenced for a second, the screams of the wind rushing past you seemed to slow as your voice cracked, seeps of emotion pouring out as you choked on your breath, “Then you should have fought for your family, Simon. There is no us anymore, it’s just them. They’re all that connects us now.”

You felt like all the ivory had been sucked out of your eyes, endless pits of your pupil consuming you whole, blurring your vision with fog as you blinked, hot streams of liquid salt spilling onto your cheeks, brimming at the cracks of your lips as you sniffled. You could feel his hesitation as he looked at you.

His words regurgitated in his throat as he stammered, tangled limbs reaching out to grip yours as you pulled away.

“Just drop us home.”

Your eyes had dried now, soft stains of bare skin caving through your foundation as you smudged your fingers against it. Simon stuttered as he pulled up to the driveway, tyres screeching to a halt as you sat in silence.

The soft strum of fingers caught your attention as you turned around, the innocent face of Toby looking back at his parents, tongue blabbing out of his mouth. “Dadda! You have dinner?”

“No, sport. Daddy’s gotta go-“

“Yeah, baby. Daddy will have dinner with us.”

You blinked at your own words, Simon’s surprised expression meeting yours. The wrench in your heart would never subside, the entirety of the beating organ still belonging to your ex-husband, but being a mother was a sacrifice. And you would sacrifice yourself in every existence you become one if it meant your children didn’t have to battle the same internal wounds.

“They’re tucked in,” Simon said, voice soft as he noticed your withered body in the couch. Your hair was messy now, strands spitting out as you anxiously tucked them back in, smoothing them down with the dampness of your palms as you ran around all night, ushering to the demands of your children.

“Thank you.”

You felt ill, your tongue cascading down your throat as you palmed at your knees, desperate for him to leave yet desperate for him to stay. Simon stilled, keys jangling in his hand before he sat down next to you, his weight disrupting the couch as he shuffled around.

“I need you to know that I did want to fight for you, y/n. I have counted every single day since you handed me those papers, waiting by my phone every single night on deployment hoping for you to text me, call me, fuck - blow my phone up. I never wanted the temporary absence that we had apart become permanent. Everything I said,” he breathed, voice cracking slightly as he looked away, “Everything I said on October 6th, 7 years ago, I meant. You weren’t supposed to get away from me - I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t have let you get away from me.”

It was strange. Simon was never one for feelings, the brutality of his job allowed for any harsh emotions to crack through his fingers as he pulled a trigger, any dampness of tears would sweat through his skin as he pummelled a blade into an enemies head.

But it was you. And you weren’t violent, or any enemy, you were his wife, the person he vowed his entirety too.

Your anxious cascade cracked as you whimpered out a sob, chest heaving as you buried your face, tight with tears, into the pillows of your hands. You felt warmth spread through you, the texture of Simon’s fingers burning through you like wildfire, every ember he felt scorching through your flesh as he pulled you in.

Arms tangled together, intwining like wool as he wrapped you into his chest nimbly. A zephyr ran through you, your wrists clutched in his hands as you straddled him, the weight of you feeling like the grandest treasure upon him.

It was nothing strange, nor sexual but Simon recognised that cry, the differing pitch as you shuffled your frame into his. Simon knew you like the back of his hand, every crevice, every crease, every scar. He knew your backstory, and the one you made up to impress people. He knew the hex of the colour of your eyes and the print of your thumb. No papers would take that away from him.

Soaked eyelashes clumped into one as you looked up at him, orbs resembling once of a doe, innocence seeping through every inch of a salt-stained tear. His eyes met yours, apertures of cocoa reflecting your weary frame as you gripped onto him.

“Let me come home, please.”

Simon’s voice was desperate, it was raw, any shed of arrogance erased through the lines, eyebrows knotted together as he rubbed at the small of your back.

Your nod was subtle, but he could practically hear it, calloused hands gripping at the plush of your cheek and seeping through the tip of your spine, thumb rubbing at your earlobe as he clutched onto you.

Hot, seething pricks ran through your limbs as your lips connected, saline lining your mouth as he lapped at the heat of your tongue, rough groans leaving his lips as he savoured the taste.

Any diffidence left your body as familiarity sunk back into you. Hands pawed at the globe of your ass, gripping the flesh as anguished limbs wrapped around Simon’s waist.

With an easy tug, he lifted you, your hands wrapping around his neck as he pulled you in closer, teeth kissing. You never questioned Simon’s strength, and you wouldn’t start now as you felt your back hit your mattress.

He tugged at his shirt, the black fabric pooling on the floor as you sucked in a breath. Your eyes traced every scar, lighter flesh engraved into the skin of his torso, a short trail of hair disappearing into his pants as you stared at his burly physique.

Simon gripped at your shirt, the material practically ripping before his hands were at your chest, grabbing at your flesh desperately as you tangled your fingers into your bra, sliding it off. His mouth was hot on your chest, the sound of moans and pants filling the air as he positioned himself between your legs, teeth grazing the hard nubs, sucking with fervour as you whined, your hand at the base of his head, cradling it.

“Missed these so fucking much,” he practically whined, groping your tits as he pinched your nipples, lips sucking deep marks of possession into the soft skin. Your pants were desperate, begging him for more as you pulled his hair, fingernails clawing at his scalp.

Your hands fumbled with your pants, hips raising as he slid them off, clumsy fingers chucking them across the room as you laughed, lips connecting once more in a giggly state as his thumb pushed against the wetness of your panties.

“Missed how fucking wet you got for me. Such a good fucking girl,” he groaned, fingers rubbing at your heat through the thin cloth eliciting a pained moan from you.

“Simon - I need more, been so long.”

He choked out a laugh as his fingers hooked into the fabric, lace dribbling down your leg before he mewled at the sight of you. His hands held your thighs apart, your soaking cunt on display as it throbbed, slick folds glistening in the poor lighting.

“Prettiest fucking pussy,” he choked out to himself, placing your legs over his shoulder as he knelt down. Your back arched as you felt his tongue lick a long stripe of your pussy, his body seething for a taste of you as his lips found your neglected clit.

He lapped at you mercilessly, your cries and moans moulding into one with the filthy squelches of his mouth against your heat. Long digits circled your entrance, teasing you, before they curled in.

Your eyes rolled, pools of ivory exposed as you let out a guttural moan, your thighs tightening around his ears as he smirked against your pussy. Cocky fingers rubbed at the right spot, favouring the clench of your tight hole as he pulled every noise he could get from you.

You were barely cohesive as he lapped at your slick, the throbbing of your clit edging him on as he soothed your g-spot with the pad of his fingers. The coil you had only ever felt with Simon began to build, the familiar sensation pooling in your stomach as you stuttered out a whimper.

“Si- too much - I’m gonna-“

“That’s it baby,” he cooed, pulling away from your pussy for a second to take in your expression as you came, your face contorted with pleasure as your legs jerked, pussy wrapping tighter around his abusing digits as he fucked you through it with them. You looked down at him, saliva and your slick coating his mouth and chin as he grinned.

You stammered out a groan as his mouth attached back on your pussy, slurping up your liquid gold as you attempted to push his head away in overstimulation.

“Oh my- fuck - Simon - too much,” you whimpered your words commanding him to continue as he guzzled around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as your legs shook uncontrollably.

It wasn’t long before the continuation from your previous orgasm rose again, heat swarming your lower belly as you screamed out, your hand slapping over your mouth as you felt Simon’s spare hand wrap around your thigh, squeezing tightly.

You pulled at his hair, tugging at the ashy roots before you were gushing around his fingers and tongue again, sloshing liquids soaking your sheets as he groaned at the taste, mouth lapping it up with vigour. You whined in humiliation, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much as you heaved.

“Si - no more -“

“I’m sorry baby, too fucking good. Will never get enough of your pussy.”

His words were filthy yet only held the truth, his continuous slurps against your heat causing your body to jerk as you relentlessly bucked your hips. Simon’s abuse continued on your pussy, your pussy gushing and coming another 6 times before he was satisfied, the sheet under you drenched in both your slick and squirt as Simon milked your overwhelmed cunt, claiming he was “making up for the months lost”.

You were dry heaving, throat dry as he captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of you infiltrating into your glands as you groaned, his hands reaching to tug at your breasts as he took in your fucked out state, legs jiggling and twitching as your pussy convulsed at the number of orgasms he dragged out of you.

You felt like you had been lying here for hours, yet you weren’t satisfied. You would only be content when he was inside you, stretching you to the brim as he pumped a load inside your worn-out hole.

“Simon - please - I can’t… I need you now,” you were practically crying, tears shedding at the brim of your eyes, bottom lip jutting out as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, slicking back the sweat on your forehead.

“I know baby, done so well for Daddy, hm? Even after all that you still need to be plugged full of me don’t you?”

You nodded as a harsh slap landed against your clit, your body jolting as you squeaked. “Yes, please,” you cried, “Please Daddy.”

His hands were like clockwork, tearing at his jeans as they released his cock, a satisfied groan leaving his body as he gripped at the tent in his pants, a sticky wet patch soaking the material before his length throbbed out, angry tip slapping his stomach as a trail of precum glistened against the base of his cock.

His dick was flushed red, begging for release as he ran it through the squelch of your sopping folds, rubbing against your manipulated clit as you moaned.

Your hands gripped his head as he leant down to kiss you, his arm holding him up while the other positioned himself at your entrance. He stilled for a moment, cock almost pressing in before he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The words were soft yet meaningful, your eyes interlocked as he began to push inside, your mouth gasping open as you clutched onto his shoulders. It was hard when you were together all those years to get accustomed to his frightening length, and now it had been a year and the stretch was searing through you.

“I know, sweet girl, you can take it. Such a tight cunt for me, so fucking good.”

Fingernails clawed at his back as he pushed in, your whines muffled by the palm of his hand as he held himself up his elbows. “Holy fuck,” he spluttered as he bottomed out, his lips connecting to your neck as he sucked, resting inside you for a second as you whimpered.

The burn slowly faded as you rutted against him impatiently, the tip of his cock resting against your sweet spot as you gasped.

“So fucking impatient, always been such a slut for me. Haven’t you?”

You nodded, whining as he began to move, moving his hips slowly as he rubbed inside you perfectly, your mouth wide open as your head lolled back. A series of expletives tipped from your tongue as you choked on the air, Simon’s pace picking up at your dramatic noises.

“Fuck - taking me so well-“ he grunted, hands groping at your tits as he watched your pussy absorb his length. It was an obscene sight and he loved it. Every fibre of your being belonged to him and it was something he constantly craved.

“All fucking mine - shit - my fucking pussy,” he grunted, thumb rubbing at your clit as you mewled, twitching below him as he spat, “my fucking wife - got the tightest fucking cunt just for me.”

You clenched around him at his words, knowing it was true as his balls slapped against your ass, skin spanking against each other as the sound filled the room, ecstasy roaring through both of your veins as you made love.

The squelch of your pussy was taboo as he lapped in the missed sound. His eyes took in the way your body reacted to every movement, no matter how small. He took in the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, lower stomach bulging as he pounded into you.

“Fuck - Simon - oh my God,” your words were a mere blabber, barely making sense as you clutched onto him, pulling him down to meet your lips.

“I can’t pull out, baby - fuck - gotta cum in this pretty pussy. Give you another kid, hm? - shit -“

His hips didn’t falter as his pace fastened, chasing his own high as he rubbed at your clit, your breaths growing shallow as your orgasm began to build. “Gonna fill you with my cum until it takes. Need your belly round again and your tits full - such a good fucking mum, makes me so fucking proud.”

His words were the final straw as the build up in your stomach popped, your whole body convulsing as your pussy clenched around him, a loud groan leaving his throat before you felt the hot splashes of his cum pumping inside you.

“That’s it baby, milk my cock. Such a good fucking girl for Daddy, gonna break you apart everyday on my cock until you never forget who you belong too.”

He didn’t pull out immediately, his cum plugged inside you as some seeped out, rolling down the crevice of your ass below you. Your eyes shut, gentle pants leaving your lips as you felt Simon’s absence before a soft cloth was wiped gently across your sex and masculine arms were gripping onto you, carrying you into the guest room before engulfing you into a thrill of heat, Simon’s chest against your back as you fell asleep.

TAGLIST: @kiiwiipie @nijiru

Disclaimer: im sorry if this is disappointing im super tired :(((

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thekinslayed · 1 year ago

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Before You Go, Before I Am Lost to the Ether

summary | On death row, Aemond Targaryen has one last visitor. (based on this request.)

pairing | criminal!aemond targaryen x senator's daughter!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! oral (f), multiple orgasms, daddy kink, angst, squirting, mention of death penalty, death row meal? this 🐱

wordcount | 4.4k

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

“Hey, baby.”

Aemond was enveloped by a cloud of smoke when you entered the room. It wasn’t a cell, per se, but rather an empty room save for a table with two chairs in the middle of it. No cameras. For a guy who was to die in less than three hours, he looked quite unbothered.

Your ex-boyfriend, clad in a standard gray jumpsuit, was leaning against the cold metal of his chair, one arm hanging off the side. A cigarette dangled from his lips, smirking at you behind the tobacco curtain. It only grew wider when your frosty pink lips dipped into a frown.

“You fucking asshole,” you spat.

Ah, there’s his girl.

“Little Miss sneaked into prison to see me, ay?” he teased. His chest vibrated with a low chuckle at the sight of your scowl. Silver tresses swayed to the side as he tilted his head, running his good eye down your form. Gods, you looked good. “Came to say goodbye, sweetheart?”

“Shut up.”

He watched as you turned back to look at the door, before moving to sit opposite him. With a huff, you plopped down onto the hard, steel chair, setting your crocodile skin Birkin onto the gray cement floor. An equally dull table separated the two of you. The distance between you felt like an entire ocean, though Aemond knew it was nothing compared to the agony of being away from his dear girl for months while he lay awake in his cold, empty cell.

A silence encompassed the two of you, merely staring at each other. The tapping of your satin Pradas faintly filled it— the strappy ones. The kind Aemond liked. With his remaining eye, he took in the sight of you and tried to find which part of you changed.

You’ve forgone the blonde balayage you had retouched every 2 months, now sticking to your natural color. It suited you better.

Your lashes looked freshly done. Aemond could only imagine the 2-hour drive you always insisted on taking to meet your lash tech.

Were those new earrings? He liked them, they looked so pretty on you.

You’ve noticed him staring; it’s not like he was discreet about it anyway, but it made him clear his throat and sit taller. “How’d you get in?” he asked, taking another puff of his cigarette. You tutted at him as a thick cloud of smoke billowed from his lips and nostrils. You always disapproved of such a dirty habit.

“The prison warden here used to be part of Daddy’s security back in the day. Didn’t take much convincing to let me in, he gave me 2 hours,” you shrugged, looking at your nails. Your gaze shifted around, only sparing him glances. The smug look on Aemond’s face threatened to return, pride swelling in his chest at the thought that he still affected you this way. Curious, his eyebrow raised at your words, leaning his forearms onto the cold table.

“And does Daddy know you’re here?”

It was then you met his teasing, attentive gaze. The icy blue of his good eye was sharp, while the exposed gemstone twinkled under the harsh fluorescent light over your heads. You narrowed your eyes at him, mimicking his stance.

��Of course not,” you sneered.

If anyone were to discover your visit, it would be an uncontrollable scandal. It was already bad to find the daughter of the Senate minority leader, sneaking past maximum security into prison to see your ex-boyfriend, but said ex also had his face planted on every news channel with the broadcasting of his crimes.

Aemond Targaryen, disgraced son of former majority leader Viserys Targaryen!

Despite his father being a prominent political figure for decades before his death, Aemond was rarely in the spotlight. He was much further down the line, and so much of the attention was always on his older siblings, all for different reasons. Nyra was always present by dad’s side for scheduled appearances, being advertised as the next Targaryen to follow in their father’s footsteps as his eldest child. Aegon was a different story, with sneaked photos of him drunk off his face at frat parties, salacious pap photos while in a hot tub with some girl at Aspen, and worst of all, being caught with thousands worth of illegal substances in his apartment. Aemond was known as the dutiful one, an excellent law student with stunning records that got him into Harvard, besides his name.

Another tense silence passed, though he could see your agitation growing the more your time ran out. You were here for a reason, he knew that, but you were never good at getting your words out.

“So,” he spoke up. “Why did you come to see me?”

You sighed, looking down to your lap. He couldn’t see it, but he could tell you were fidgeting. His fingers twitched, longing to take your hand into his larger ones. You opened your mouth to speak, stuttering at first.

“I guess I just wanted to see you before you…” you trailed off, lips quivering into a frown. Aemond nodded in understanding. With a sniffle, you lifted your head to look at him. Your sad eyes trailed over his figure, no doubt noting how much weight he’s lost. He always had a thin frame, but with years of boxing, calisthenics, and various sports gave him a leaner, sinewy form, but he’s lost most of it since coming to this place. “They said you turned down your last meal.”

Aemond shrugged, pointy shoulders poking through the dull gray of his jumpsuit. The food in prison was rightfully abhorrent; the extent of their culinary expertise being a tray of grey sludge and crackers. Cigarettes, however, there seemed to be no shortage of. “No point in it,” he muttered.

“You could have anything you want, you know.”

He was never one to indulge, but there was one thing he really, really missed— lemon cakes. The ones your mom made from lemons in her backyard. It made the glands in his jaw spring up in attention, filling him with a shock in his senses that he could only attribute to being alive. He was never religious, despite the Hightower blood coursing through his veins, but being so close to death had him thinking of the afterlife. He would like it if there were lemon cakes, where he could split them with you as you lay tangled up under the big willow tree in your family’s garden. Yes, he would like that.

“I had everything I wanted at one point in my life, then I lost it,” he said, looking straight into your wide orbs. He could sense the words threatening to spill from your lips, could practically feel them forming on your tongue.

“Why did you push me away, Aemond?” you asked, voice starting to quiver with the emotions that threatened to overcome you. “I could have been there for you, through all of this.” His silver tresses swayed as he shook his head. Stubbing his finished cigarette onto the table’s leg, he aimed it at the trash bin situated behind him. It missed.

“I never wanted you to be a part of my mess.”

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “You didn’t give me a choice in the matter. What if I wanted to be part of your mess? I could have helped! We know people, good lawyers that would see that you wouldn’t end up here!” You had risen to your feet now, leaning over with your hands splayed on the table. Aemond could only listen as you yelled at him, letting out months of pent-up frustration about why he so suddenly left you stranding just before his crimes went public. He couldn’t have you involved, hence why he had broken up with you the moment he knew he was done for.

Targaryens were always after legacy. Their blood spanned from fearsome dragonlords back in medieval times, written in history as great men equal to gods. Aemond couldn’t let his side of the family go down as nothing. With Rhaenyra campaigning against Aegon in the senatorial race, it was clear they had little to win against Viserys’ golden girl. His grandsire had delved into making sure Rhaenyra’s name would be tarnished well before the elections, anonymously broadcasting all of his eldest sister’s fuck ups throughout her youth— her disregard for learning the way of politics, numerous affairs that lead to the questionable parentage of her sons, including the shocking rumor of her intimate involvement with their uncle Daemon. Otto had men keeping a close eye on Rhaenyra and her family, reporting anything that would be of use, especially regarding their political moves. Some falsified stories also came into the mix, but the worst act of all, was when Aemond killed Luke in a car accident. It was an accident, it really was, but as he stood before court there was little evidence to prove otherwise. He was not an innocent man, but he had his reasons.

Ever their family’s martyr, Aemond took the blame for all of it.

Five counts of aiding and abetting. Eight counts of defamation. Four counts of espionage. One count of vehicular manslaughter. Sentenced to death by lethal injection.

“I’m a dead man already,” he said. A pang in his chest cracked what was left of his heart when your lips quivered as he said ir, eyes reddening with tears. Regretful, he rose from his seat, moving to hold you by the elbows. As much as your body told you otherwise, you broke away from his grip. His cheek stung when you struck him with your open palm, tingling with warm pain in the aftermath.

“How could you say that to me?” you fumed, hitting him in the chest with your fists. Aemond could only take it in silence, feeling more and more alive with your every strike than the past couple of months in isolation. “After everything we’ve been through, how could you throw it all away so easily? You don’t even mourn what’s been wasted of your life? Our life?” You’ve managed to push him back now, making him lean against the table.

He caught your wrists, bringing you close to his chest. You found your place in between his thighs, face buried in the crook of his neck. Aemond pressed his nose into your hair, the familiar scent of your rose-infused hair oil invading his senses, grounding him. “It’s going to be alright, baby. It’ll be painful for a second, then it’ll be over. I’ll be fine,” he said, soothing you with a kiss on your head.

You looked at him, tears starting to pool in the corners of your lids. “What about me? You’ll be gone, and you’ll be fine, but what about me, Aemond?” you quivered.

With a sigh, Aemond cupped your jaw and pressed his forehead against yours. “Oh, baby.”

You were right. He hadn’t even realized how selfish he’s been. The man had been too preoccupied with his family’s mess and everything that’s happened since to even wonder how he had affected you. And soon, he was leaving you for good. He had to thank the gods, and your father’s connections, that he was granted another moment to see you, to feel the heat of your flesh underneath his palms. He needed to savor this, make every second count.

His lips found their home in yours. They were sweet, and plump underneath his tongue as it prodded its way into your mouth. You responded in vigor, taking hold of the back of his neck to keep him close. The sticky feel of your gloss painted his pale skin with a light pink sheen as you descended downwards to his neck. He smelled like cigarette smoke, as expected, and the faintest of soap.

Aemond maneuvered to switch you both, making you lean against the table while he sunk to his knees. Expert hands undid the belt on your trousers, letting them fall to the floor in a heap of brown houndstooth. His thin lips made their way up from your calf, the inside of your thigh, up to where a damp spot was forming on your lace panties. He longed to get a whiff of your essence, his aquiline nose fitting perfectly into the indent of your folds. You squirmed when his thumb trailed your clothed slit with a featherlight touch, rubbing on your clit through the fabric.

“Aem…” you whined. “Please, don’t tease. We don’t have time.”

Aemond hummed, tilting his head to bite into the plump meat of your thigh. A warm, calloused hand took hold of your leg, lifting it to hook over his shoulder. “Ask me nicely then. What do you say, baby?”

Another whine from you as you tilted your head back. You were gripping the edge of the table tight, tethering on the edge of propriety. “Please, daddy.” His lips lift into a feline smirk against your thigh before deft fingers drop your thong in one motion. Aemond, never one to dally, plunged his tongue straight into your warm center. His hunger was evident. He slurped, licked, and sucked on you exactly like a man who was in his last hours on earth. It was sloppy, sweet juices making a mess down his chin. There was a desperation to it, an urge to leave his mark on both your mind and body that had him shaking his head from side to side as he nuzzled his sharp nose into your clit. The little motion had you whining, and the sight of you with your head thrown back made his cock stir when he peeked up at you.

Shifting his mouth to suck on your pearl, two fingers dove into your pussy. You needed no time to adjust, seeing as the clear honey of your slick was dripping down his knuckles. Your nipples pebbled against the fabric of your black, sleeveless Ralph Lauren turtleneck, and you lifted the thin fabric over your head to play with your stiff nubs, spurring yourself closer to the precipice. Meanwhile, Aemond’s fingers fucked you with a breakneck speed, fueled with the urgency of wanting to see you fall apart. His mouth worked in tandem, sucking on your clit and circling with his tongue. Your walls soon began to squeeze his fingers rhythmically, indicating the beginning of your end. “Y’gonna come for me, baby? Come on,” he urged, delighting in your fervent moan when he curled his fingers into the rough spot within your walls.

“Y-yeah, daddy, I’m…” you stammered, cheeks steadily reddening. Your chest began to heave, followed by the quivering in your thighs. Telltale signs of something familiar. It sparked an instant excitement in Aemond’s chest, prompting him to never lose his pace. Your brows were furrowed adorably, while your hand gripped his shoulder in a poor attempt of getting away. Your efforts were futile as Aemond’s fingers stayed clamped into your walls as you squirted all over his hand. “Fuck, fuck!” A string of curses melted into the wail you pathetically tried to cover with your hand. The smug smirk on his face displayed his delight as your eyes rolled back into your school, tongue eagerly licking up the sweet juices covering his hand.

“My perfect girl,” he praised, rising to his full height. The flesh on your waist was perfectly soft under his calloused palms, hands finding their home on your curves. Aemond planted kisses onto his lover’s cheek, capturing the salty droplets of sweat. “So fucking filthy. Was that all for me, baby?”

A soft whimper was your initial response, nodding at him with wide, bleary eyes. “All for you, daddy.” Gone was the commanding aura you carried when you walked into the prison’s doors, reduced to nothing but an eager submission to one man only. You pawed at the bulge in Aemond’s pants, rubbing his erection in a manner that made him hiss. The standard-issued jumpsuit soon found its place among your designer clothing, crumpled to the floor with little regard. You had moved to lay your front onto the table, but Aemond had stopped you with a tut. He lifted the white, cotton tank covering his frame, before laying it flat onto the cold, metal table. He wouldn’t let your pristine skin get any of the grimy filth of sin this place was covered in.

Body bent over and legs splayed open, the glistening wetness of your folds beckoned him closer. He gave his cock a couple of soft tugs, before directing his cockhead to your slit. In the familiar embrace of your warmth, Aemond found his home. It was then he realized how much he had been deprived of such ecstasy, with the slight gasp that fell from his lips as he buried himself to the hilt.

Like an addict, he was soon lost in the ridges of your walls that massaged his length. His pace was unforgiving, eager to grant both of your pleasures in the limited time he had left. You were as eager as he, hips meeting his thrust with an equal enthusiasm. The quietness of such an isolated room was soon filled with the smacking of skin against skin, and the chorus of grunts and moans coming from the pair of you.

“Perfect, fuckin’, pussy,” Aemond groaned, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust that would have sent you lurching forward if it weren’t for his grip on your shoulder. “Taking my cock so well. Is this what you wanted when you came here, baby? Wanted to get fucked in prison like a filthy slut, hm?” His free hand delivered resounding slaps against your ass that had the pump flesh rippling. A mewl echoed through the room as his pace remained brutal, just how you always liked it.

He might’ve thought himself already a dead man, a ghost spending his last hours in misery before the darkness overtook him, but Aemond had never felt so alive at this moment. He felt grounded, present. He had grown familiar with the numbing sensation of nothing, but he was feeling everything— from the tingle in his scalp, the heat in his veins, down to the fire that ignited his muscles. He was filled with life.

The damp, stale air in the room soon began to grow musky with the smell of sex. The onset of your second release had you writhing under your lover’s tight grip, reaching back to grab onto his hips with a warning grip. “Gods, you’re gonna make me come!” you whimpered, yelping when Aemond gripped your hair to tilt your head back. His breath was hot against your damp neck, his teeth delivering a sharp bite into your skin to leave his mark.

“Yeah? Go ahead, baby, come on my cock.” With another harsh smack on your rear, you came all over his shaft with a cry of his name. His hips never faltered, fucking you steadily through your orgasm. The quiver in your thighs returned, knees almost to the point of bucking from the tidal wave of pleasure that washed over you. But Aemond wasn’t done with you. You were soon shifted to sit on the table, with the silver-haired man settling in between your thighs. He drove straight back into your heat, jackhammering his hips to seek out his release. You let him, of course you did, even meeting his thrusts as you held onto the table’s edge. He knew how sensitive you were, evident in the high-pitched uh, uh, uh’s that fell freely from your lips and the slight furrow in your brow. Your manicured nails dug into the outline of his abdomen, leaving streaks of red flesh against his pale skin.

Aemond’s good eye was trained on the tantalizing view of your bouncing breasts, plump mounds of flesh that made his mouth water. He was at a point where he just merely wanted to indulge in every part of you, and he delighted in the fact that you would gladly let him. Aemond took your tit into his mouth, suckling on one while his hand fondled the other. If he looked down, he would’ve seen the white ring of your essence around the base of his cock, but he was already happy enough to have his face pressed into your breasts. Your grip on his silver mane kept him flush to your chest, your delighted sighs singing a sweet song in his ears.

It seemed that Aemond’s desire to feel every ounce of your skin was not unreciprocated. Your hold on his pert, nicely rounded ass held him close, engulfing you in his warmth in the otherwise nippy room. Chest flushed against chest, his forehead against yours, Aemond breathed in your space. He panted into your mouth, lips lingering but not meeting as the tingle deep in his spine bloomed into a rising warmth. His cock twitched within your walls as he neared his precipice. Something tingled in his occiput, a swarming heat that threatened to wash down onto his lids.

“I love you, Aemond,” you breathed, before pressing your lips into his.

“Say it again,” he pleaded against your lips, voice almost to the point of cracking. “Please, baby, can you say it again?”

“I love you. I will never stop loving you.”

He came with a broken sputter, hips losing their rhythm as he emptied his seed into your womb. You both stayed in each other’s embrace for a peaceful, solemn moment, with your head in his chest as he buried into the crook of your neck. It was quiet as he chased his breath, but the quiet sob you had pressed into his skin made Aemond pull away to look at you in concern.

“Hey, hey, baby. It’s okay,” he soothed you, shushing your sobs with a kiss on your hair. Yet your chest still racked with sobs, mascara-tinted tears streaking down your cheeks. He wiped them all in haste, before cupping your face. “Don’t cry for me. You know it breaks my heart to see you cry.”

“How can you be fine with all of this?” you asked, lips quivering. Aemond sighed, pressing his lips onto your forehead before urging you to look at him.

“I’ve made my peace with it, with everything.” A scoff was your only response, harshly turning your face away from his grip as you looked off to the side. Your lover whispered your name in a quiet plea to look at him. Large palms, calloused from the steel handle of the weights in the prison courtyard, rubbed your thighs and squeezed the soft flesh. “You’ll be better off without me,” he reasoned. Your head snapped to face him in a blink, the sadness in your orbs turning to something akin to anger.

“You’re a fucking idiot to think I could live one day without you.”

Aemond could only chuckle, one of a sad amusement. He pulled you back close into his chest, smoothing out the frazzled strands of your hair from the aftermath of your lovemaking. “You will, and you’ll be fine, I promise,” he reassured, chin resting on the top of your head. “Somebody’s going to make you much happier than I ever could. Someone who won’t hurt you, take care of you in ways you deserve.” He could feel his skin grow damp as salty tears fell from your eyes once more, quiet sniffling making known the agony you had endured for months away from him, and the grief you would soon face when he was gone.

Your hands took hold of his stubbled jaw, thumb softly caressing the sharp planes of his face. “How could I want anyone else when all I’ve ever wanted was you?” you breathed, striking an arrow straight into his bleeding heart.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, swallowing down the thick lump in his throat. It had been years since Aemond found himself close to tears, the last time being buried in insufferable pain from the loss of his eye. It held no comparison to the throbbing in his chest now, his good eye furiously blinking away the hot tears that started to prickle. It began to dawn on him the gravity of it all. He would soon be gone, and he would no longer have the chance to see you, touch you, hold you in his arms. Aemond was beginning to feel the spark of regret for how his life had gone, with how his brashness had cost him the safety of your love. He would have none of that now, not when he would soon be reduced to a body that no longer breathed, a soul reduced to ash.

For his final act of devotion, Aemond removed the glinting sapphire in his left socket, before enclosing the jewel into your palm. “Here,” he uttered, closing your fingers around the stone before pressing a kiss onto your hand.

“Aemond…” you gasped, looking at him in disbelief. It was his most prized possession, and there was no other person he would have given it to except for you. You were as special as it were to him— his most beautiful jewel, his heart.

“I want you to have it, won’t be worth anything to me when I’m dead,” he said, lips lifting into a sad smile. He watched as you stared into the empty cavern of his missing eye, breath shuddering as your fingertip ghosted over his scar. In a flash, you buried yourself back into his embrace. As he pressed his nose into your shoulder, committing the sweet scent of your skin to memory, Aemond let himself shed a tear for all he had lost. He still had so much love to give, filled with an overwhelming urge to shower you in its warmth, but he was out of time.

A knock on the metal door signaled the end. You redressed in silence, both of you not uttering a word that would shatter the vulnerable glass of your despair. A mirrored pit of dread made Aemond’s palms begin to sweat, as it made you unable to look at him lest you broke out into tears once more. With the last button on his jumpsuit fastened, Aemond watched as you dug into your bag. You pulled out a small, white container, fastened by a ribbon. “Eat this, okay?” you urged, a glimmering, pleading look in your eye that made Aemond nod. Another knock, more urgent this time. With a heavy sigh, you kissed him so deeply that it made his head float. His grip almost made you stay, made you want to fight through hell and back to have him set free, but you were powerless.

“I love you. I’m sorry.” was the last thing he ever said to you.

You stepped out the door without so much one last glance at him, forcing yourself to look straight with a hand clasped over your mouth. He was glad you didn’t. Let his last memory of you be the one of bliss, with you deep into the throes of your pleasure. As the clock continued to tick closer and closer to his final moment, Aemond untied the ribbon of your gift. At the sight of it, a smile made his slim cheeks dimple.

Lemon cakes.

#bella writes ✍️#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #hotd x reader #modern aemond

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himasgod · 3 months ago

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Hello! Can I ask the voracious Sebek? Something like, "I can't feed my boyfriend. I think he's about to eat our whole house and me too" (he is a crocodile after all 😂) If I may, the reader is Lilia's daughter and complained to him.

SEBEK X READER

Where Sebek is voracious

Where you complain to your father about your boyfriend's insatiable appetite

You slam the dorm pantry shut with the force of a woman on the brink of a breakdown.

“Lilia!” you call across the Diasomnia, tone shrill and desperate.

“I think Sebek’s about to eat the entire dorm. And possibly me. Help.”

Your tiny bat-like father pokes his head out from the hallway, eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh dear. Is my future son-in-law going feral again?”

You stare blankly at him.

“He ate three packs of curry puffs, five steamed buns, a whole roast chicken and then looked at me like I was dessert.”

From behind you, the unmistakable sound of stomping boots shakes the floor, followed by a deep growl that is far too reptilian.

“Dear…!” Sebek’s voice rumbles as he enters the room, eyes wild and glowing faintly with hunger. “Did you… make more food? I can smell something—!”

“I didn’t even cook yet!” you scream, holding up a frying pan like a shield.

“You already ate all the rice, the leftovers, and Silver’s emergency snacks!”

“They were not clearly labeled!”

“They had his face drawn on them!”

Sebek puffs up his chest, indignant.

“A mighty warrior cannot be bound by mortal snacks when his metabolism requires fuel! My strength must be maintained to guard Lord Malleus! And you!”

“I appreciate the chivalry,” you deadpan, backing away slowly, “but if you eat one more cabinet I’m locking you in the forest with some jerky and a prayer.”

“Child, you do realize crocodiles eat like once a week in the wild, right?” Lilia says with a snicker, floating beside you with a cup of tea he clearly has no intention of sharing.

“Not this crocodile!” you hiss.

Sebek suddenly scoops you up like a prize, holding you close. His eyes narrow as he dramatically sniffs your hair.

“...You smell like sweet potatoes.”

“I’m made of 60% blood and 40% trauma, Sebek, I assure you I am not food.”

He pauses. “You also smell like garlic butter.”

“STOP THAT.”

Lilia giggles behind his cup. “

Ah, young love. So precious. So edible.”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted x reader #twst x reader #sebek x reader #sebek x yuu #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek #sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland scenario #twisted one shot

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moonyswritinq · 7 months ago

Text

❝ BLACK SWAN ❞

PAIRING ➢ killian jones x brother!Swan male reader

SYNOPSIS ➢ Killian Jones was no stranger to using his charms in order to woo beautiful women, Emma Swan being no exception. You couldn’t stand the sight of him flirting shamelessly with your sister, purely for brotherly reasons, so you decide to tell him off. What you didn’t know, was that his eye had been drawn to you the moment he saw you.

CONTENT WARNING ➢ season 2 & 3 spoilers, sort of one-sided rivals to lovers, tension, kissing, making out, harsh language, guys flirting, insults as flirting, threats

WORD COUNT ➢ 2.4 k

a/n: I wrote this because I read another similar fic and, no hate to that author, but I wanted to write it better and so that it would be more to my satisfaction. Also, I am well aware of all the requests I still have yet to do, but I fell into a OUAT hole and now I’m here.

MASTERLIST, TAGLIST

Killian Jones finding a woman attractive was nothing special. He’s had his fair share of dalliances over the years. Ever since what happened to Milah, Killian was in no hurry to find the so-called “true love” and settle down. His never-ending adventures at sea kept him plenty occupied—and so did his hunt for his Crocodile.

It was no surprise then that the woman named Emma Swan would draw his eye. She was just his type: bold, determined, and a natural leader. His interactions with her in the Enchanted Forest left him intrigued, and his curiosity of her only grew when they returned to Storybrooke and defeated Cora together. He expected his infatuation with Emma to grow the more time he spent with her, but what he was not expecting, was you to catch his eye instead.

The son of Prince Charming and Snow White, brought to a world without magic together with Emma as babies, put into a foster home. Despite all your bad luck as children, your inability in finding a place to call home, at least you managed to stay together. And as Henry brought her back to Storybrooke to break the curse, you followed with. You weren’t a Saviour like her, not by a long shot. But you did have your own skills and abilities, something that came with being a devilishly cunning detective. However much she hated to admit it, Emma would oftentimes turn to you for help in hunting down a bounty. A difficult bounty for her meant an afternoon of idle searching for you.

You never turned down an opportunity to tease her about it and she never hesitated to roll her eyes at you. Nonetheless, you felt incredible protective of her. You may just have been a few minutes older than her, but that didn’t stop you from putting on the big brother act—something she didn’t always appreciate.

Which is why, when you saw a certain pirate unashamedly flirting with her, those brotherly instincts kicked in immediately. You knew Hook was helping your family in getting Henry back from Neverland, providing passage on his ship, the Jolly Roger, and offering his being a guide on the island. But those facts did not give him the right to flirt with your sister.

You had already been at odds with the man when, at your arrival to the island, the ship was attacked by a school of mermaids. Hook had stumbled in your direction and taken hold of the most stable thing closest to him—which happened to be you. His hand had gripped your waist, his hook coming to your chest as he fell against you. The closeness of his breath stirred something within you, something not entirely uncomfortable. Of course, it was not his fault that the ship veered to the side and that you had been closest to him when he stumbled, but that didn’t stop you from pushing him away from you the moment the ship steadied.

“My apologies,” he said, quite out of breath. His blue eyes were remarkably clear in the moonlight. “I usually offer a drink before getting so close to someone.”

Your glare was your only answer.

“I don’t believe we have been properly introduced.” He extended his hand for you to shake. You looked at it uncertainly.

“I’m Emma’s brother,” you said simply.

His eyebrow raised. “So you must be the infamous town sheriff y/n Swan. I s’pose good looks do run in the family.”

You began to scoff, but then your brain was able to fully comprehend his words. “I never told you my name.”

Hook glanced away, his confident smirk faltering. He cleared his throat. “I may have, er, asked someone for it.”

You shifted your head to meet his eye. “Someone?”

He let out a sigh. “I wanted to know who the handsome man that was traveling with us is, so yeah, I asked around. Really, you should be flattered.”

You scoffed at the grin that flashed across his face and turned on your heel. Like you’d said—shameless flirt.

Later, while searching Neal’s hideout, you watched him flash that same grin when talking to Emma. He stepped much closer, leaning towards her. You couldn’t stomach watching it. And you told yourself it was because she deserved better than a good-for-nothing scoundrel like him. No other reason.

So you watched from afar, leaned against the cave walls, as Hook winked at your sister. Emma glared at him, unimpressed. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about her falling for his charms. She was much too clever for that. You saw her walk away from him, away from the hand that he had reached forward to her and you smiled with grim satisfaction. But before you could step forwards, out of the shadows, David had approached Hook.

“Let me give you a bit of advice, Hook,” he said. “She’s never gonna like you.”

Hooks eyebrows shot into the air. “Is that so?”

“How could she?” David’s voice was laced with venom. “You’re nothing but a pirate.”

He seemed to want to reply, but nothing came out, and David walked away. Hook’s gaze followed him, his hand running down his face.

“He’s right, y’know,” you said, stepping forward.

A low growl slipped from his throat, Hook turning to face you. He looked almost crestfallen. “Can I not get enough of your bloody family?”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “And here I was thinking you’d be glad to see me.”

Hook let out a dry chuckle. “Oh, I am very glad, love.”

“There’s that charm of yours,” you remarked humourlessly.

He smiled cheekily. “Doesn’t seem to be working on your sister, though.”

“Yeah,” you hummed. Step after step brought you closer to the pirate. You watched him closely, noting the way his eyes jumped over your figure. “Speaking of, we need to have a chat.”

He nodded absentmindedly, raising his finger to rub against his lips. The movement drew your eye to them. You knew he had noticed your gaze before you managed to tear it away when his lips curled into a smirk. You rolled your eyes. Goddamned pirate.

“If you’re going to stare at me like that, I’m going to get some mixed signals, love.” His voice was as smug and sweet as honey, only managing in irritating you more.

You were not known to be calm and level-headed. Anyone who was close to you knew to keep away when your anger threatened to burst, like an erupting volcano. Emma had once stolen one of your favourite pencils as a child and you had gotten back at her by spilling ink all over her favourite stuffed animal. But Hook did not know you well enough. He smiled sweetly.

Two steps forward and you were stood right in front of him, pressing against his chest. Rum and leather and sea salt filled your nose. The smell of him was overpowering and intoxicating all at once. You pressed one arm against his throat, pushing him back against the cave wall, the other bracing yourself against it. He grunted at the impact, groaning in displeasure, before meeting your gaze steadily.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

The words growled out of your throat, through your gritted teeth. “Stay away from Emma, got it?”

“You may have gotten the good looks of your family. Not the manners, though,” he said lazily.

You cocked your head. “No, that is more my parents’ style.”

“You do have more of a bite than them,” he said. Then he tilted his head, as if in thought. “Huh, well, aren’t you a dark Swan, love? Or do you prefer Black Swan?”

Your brows knit together but you chose to ignore his words. Instead, you said, “I do agree with David that Emma will never fall for you, so you might as well give up now.”

Hook’s eyebrow raised. “If you’re so sure she won’t fall for me, why even bother threatening me? Surely, my flirting must be harmless.”

Your brows knitted together in suspicion. His eyes were annoyingly blue, piercing straight into yours. “Just leave her alone, Hook.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother me?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

“My flirting with her.” He leant forward a bit, throat straining against your arm. “Swan, are you jealous?”

You opened your mouth to protest. You? Jealous? Ridiculous. Then you noticed that his lips had curled into a cheeky smirk. “No,” you bit out.

Hook blinked, raising an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Heard you were quite the detective out in the Land of No Magic.”

Your head cocked to the side. “Yeah, so?”

He simply hummed, head falling back against the stone walls. His eyes traveled across your figure before jumping up to meet your gaze through his lidded eyes, something unintelligible in those swirls of blue. You ignored the warmth that pooled in your stomach at the sight of him like that.

“I will leave her alone,” he said calmly. “You have my word.”

You tried to detect the mischievous thoughts that were surely lying behind his eyes, but came up empty. You had no idea if he was telling the truth or not, but you let him go and stepped back in one swift moment. He cleared his throat, rubbing one hand across his collarbone.

“Fine,” you said, glancing away from his steely gaze. You weren’t sure what to do with yourself then, and you cleared your throat uncomfortably.

“Shall we?” Hook asked, gesturing to where the others had gone.

“Yeah,” you said simply, walking past him briskly.

You didn’t know what had suddenly overcome you or why you were now so uncomfortable in Hook’s presence. For the rest of that day, every time you glanced in his direction to make sure he was heeding your words of staying away from Emma—to which he did—you felt as if your nerves were standing on end. And on occasion, when he happened to be glancing your way as well and your eyes met, you felt shivers travel down your body, forcing you to break his eye contact. You thought you could see a smirk playing across his lips in those moments, but you chose to ignore him.

That same evening, you had found out David and Hook been ambushed by the Lost Boys. Apparently, Captain Hook had risked his life saving David from a poisonous arrow with Nightshade on it. You almost wanted to laugh at the idea of Hook doing something so heroic, but at the sight of David’s serious face you merely took a swig of the offered flask, like the others. You caught his eye right before he turned and stepped away from the others. You followed him behind a tree.

“I heard what you did for David,” you said. He stopped and turned to face you. “Thank you, Killian.”

His smile didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “I wouldn’t leave your father to perish on this island.”

You nodded, glancing away for a moment before meeting his eye. “I must ask, did you do it to get in my sister’s good graces?”

“I thought you weren’t jealous.” His eyebrow raised.

“Answer the question,” you bit out.

His smile dropped as he met your gaze. “No, I didn’t do it for her. I did it for you. And because it was the right thing to do.”

You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped you. “So now you’re all righteous, huh?”

Hook cocked his head. “I’ve always been chivalrous,” he said. “And, well, it doesn’t take a genius to know that getting your father killed would not help my courting you.”

You chose to ignore those last few words, your smile holding no warmth. “You’re right. You are no genius,” you said.

“This doesn’t sound like a thank you,” Hook remarked, raising his eyebrows.

You let out a sigh, looking down at the ground beneath your feet. “I’m sorry.”

He scratched the nape of his neck. “Perhaps you could show me some gratitude to make it up to me.”

His gaze was dark underneath his eyelashes, his lips curling into a smirk. You thought you knew what he was implying. You wouldn’t let him get off that easily, though.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, the corners of your mouth lifting. “That was what the ’thank you’ was for.”

“Mmm,” Hook hummed. He took a step closer, so close now you could count his eyelashes. “Is that all your father’s life is worth to you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Please, you couldn’t handle it.”

“Perhaps,” he whispered, face leaning much closer to you. You could feel his breath against your skin. “It’s you who couldn’t handle it.”

Your eyes jumped between his, then to his lips. Those damned lips, curled into that damned smile. Oh Gods, why did you have to be attractive to a pirate. Without leaving any time for you to think your actions through, you took ahold of his jacket and pulled his face towards yours.

Hook let out a surprised gasp, which you swallowed into the kiss. He dragged himself closer, hand clinging to your waist. You felt his chest press hard against you as his lips moved against yours. It was harsh, quick, and angry—just like your feelings for him.

The warmth in your stomach deepened as you pressed yourself impossibly closer to him. One hand made its way into his dark hair, pulling lightly against it. He let out a deep moan at the movement, his eyes shooting open and lips pulling away for a moment.

You smiled at the sight of him, red-lipped, cheeks flushed and eyes full of desire. “Too harsh for you, captain?”

He groaned at your words, capturing your lips once more. His hook was pressing your waist against his as his hand grabbed your neck, bringing you into him. He was truly and well intoxicating.

Hook pulled away again, breath coming out in short bursts. “So I’m not good enough for your sister, but I’m good enough for you.”

You cocked your head and shrugged. “I’m not as good as she is.”

He smiled into the kiss when you pulled him closer again. His teeth captured your bottom lip lightly, but the feeling made a smile of your own erupt across your face.

“I don’t know,” Hook said. “I think you’re pretty good.”

“Killian.”

“My name has never sounded sweeter.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, smile still playing across your lips.

“With pleasure,” he murmured while pulling you close again.

Tag list: @a-gay-dumbass @eunxhan @loverclear @shobolanya @edit-me-prettyplease @bookholichany @scriblezz

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kaivenom · 6 months ago

Note

Hey same person who asked for OP DILF x MILF reader

How about them reacting to MILF reader having a kid? (Even funnier if it was like luffy or zoro lol)

OP DILFS dating a MILF who has a kid

Characters: Mihawk, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Smoker,Shanks.

A/N: Two things. First one: i love this, i really had a good time writing it, you have great ideas my dear anon. Second one: exams are finally oveeeer, so i would be trying to update more than usual to get all the requests out of the hoven for everyone.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

After taking care of Zoro and Perona, he thinks that he is ready for everything.

One day you were both on the kitchen and he like ussual is reading paperwork.

"It looks like the new generation it's going strong, this kid seems a good swordsman." he shows you the picture.

"Drac, i think it's time for us to talk." he almsot felt fear for a moment, "that kid it's mine, not like you and Zoro, literally that is my son." his mind exploded, you never saw him that concerned.

"And when will you have said this to me?"

"I am telling you now... you know how difficult it's to date at our age, especcially being a woman who already has a kid?" he nodded and pushed you closer, "i planned on telling you soon, i just, didn't know how, i was expecting something like this to happen to have the oportunity to tell you.

"You are lucky i already have practice with that green haired boy... call him, we can set a dinner and i can meet him formally, maybe even bond?" you coudln't help but smile and kiss him.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He already has experience with children since he literally adopted a lot of them.

One day someone robbed on the royal treasure chamber of Dressrosa and he was furious, he was looking for you to help him relax.

"My dove, i need some of your assistance on my d..."

"And when i tell you i date someone your best idea it's to rob him? you are lucky i found you and your stupid friends before he did? and.... " you finally became aware of his presence, but his eyes were already glued to the teenager.

You grabbed your child by the collar of the shirt and went to the door, your previous angry look bacame softer seen how Doflamingo's eyebrows were frowning.

"This is my son... i called him to Dressrosa so you could finally meet him but he decided to 'prove you'... i dont know what was on his mind. I have the treasure located and coming back to the chamber."

"You have a child." Doflamingo looked at the verge of an aneurysm, gritting his teeth.

"I do, please, don't punish him... i thake the responsability." his lips curled in a strange smile, like he was trying to fake it.

"I am honored to meet your son, it's impressive to know how skilled he is, maybe he can join court..." clearly Doffy was having a hard time trying not to kill you son.

Sr. Crocodile

Experience 0, oblivious 100%

He was on his office, doing work and you appeared with your son.

"Croc..." he turned the chair and looked at you both, "dear, i told you i don't need more agents... i don't know how you contacted someone with such a high bounty but i don't need it." and he turned the chair again.

"This is my son..." Crocodile was thankfull for being backwards to you cause he choked on the cigar.

"Your what?"

"SIr Crocodile, i am (Y/N)'s son, i was hoping to meet you and bond a little, i wasn't expecting a job... but if you give it to me i am not going to complain."

"You already have a job as bounty hunter, don't try to take advantage of this." you poked your son's cheek under Crocodile's surprised look.

"I..." he cleared his throat, trying to sound serious and prepared, "pleasure to meet you child, i would have appreaciate it a warning."

"I warned you, i left a note on the fridge that said 'special meeting today, i have a surprise'" your son started to laugh.

"That sounded like a booty call, jajaja, maybe he was expecting you to come here in lingerie." you punched your son on the head to make him shut up.

"I can make a reserve on the restaurant we both like and i can know you better." he tried to sound profesional but your son was right, he tought you would give him a sexy surprise, not this.

Smoker

He was really tired of dealing with teenage pirates.

He spent the last week chasing and fighting agaisnt a new supernova, he was tired and just wants to get home to you.

"Hello love." he said while hanging his uniform, then he got to the living room and saw that same supernova playing cards with you, "i don't know what you are doing here bastard but you are not going to hurt my..."

"Relax old men, i was just paying a visit to my mother." Smoker got his mind reset.

"Smoker sweetie, this is my son."

"How couldn it be your son? you are a marine."

"Same happens with Garp, but he is a grandfather.... i think maybe this is a nice time for you two to meet." you were really nervous but tried to sound chill and smooth.

"Oh mother, we already know each other, thi sis the man that has been chasing me all week." the moment got worse every second and you wanted to hide, but you felt Smoker sat next to you and put his arm on your should, "noooo, cut the romantic things, i am going to throw up."

"Don't talk to us like that, yesterday i was furious that you were so childish but right now, i wont tolerate you talking to your mother or me with such a disrespectful tone." you had to hide a laugh, he clearly was getting his frustations out but at the same time trying to be nice. "so tell me, how can a son of a marine officer become a pirate?"

"Well..." and you knew that this would be a long night.

Akagami Shanks

Since Luffy and Uta, he was out of the parenting thing, for now.

You were sleeping and suddently canons started to burst on the ship, you got dressed and prepared to a new day at board.

"I am xxxxx, and i will defeat you, Red Head SHanks."

"On your dreams, child." canons were still bursting when you got on the ship and saw the attacker of the ship.

"Mom?" "Son?" you both said at the same time, Shanks mouth touched the ground.

"Come here you little prick, how could you blow the ship of your mother's fiancee."

"You are engaged? i didn't got the letter nor invitation, you don't love me or what? i know we don't live together anymore but..."

"I sent it yesterday, it should get to you in a couple of hours but... we took the covers of various newspapers, how could you not saw it?"

"You know i don't read that bullshit..." you both were yelling at each other from the ships, until Shanks decided to finally talk.

"And when i was going to know this?"

"Today!" he coudln't even talk, his mind was going to fast, another problematic child.

"Boy, stop blasting canons and get on the ship... i love your mother and i want to marry her, i can kill you."

"You are not going to kill me, i am going to defeat you."

"You can try, after the wedding and only if i am looking." you yelled at him and went to Shanks, "leave him, he is excited in reality to meet you."

"I must recompose myself, i must make him see i am a good stepfather."

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tyunningism · 21 days ago

Text

ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ? 🎀

── .✦ pairing: ot5!txt x reader

“Welcome user, you’ve set your nickname as…Angel. Please enter your birth date and year for the best experience!!” ᥫ᭡

╰┈➤MDNI - NSFW content ahead...

…or in simple words… ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ-sɪᴍ!ᴛxᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Finished the tutorial? Head back to the menu !

tyunningism’s note: Don’t want to keep you guys waiting for too long so here’s the tutorial (aka the introduction to how the series works !! ^^)

The taglist is open if you’d like to be added for any updates on this work !! 💞

want to join the perma-taglist? Send me an ask/letter or message!!

A nightmare. Exactly what the city has come to as you mindlessly lag behind your giggling friends, too engrossed in the two-dimensional visual novel characters on their screens to even realise the lamp post stumped jarringly in the middle of the sidewalk.

It’s like a disaster waiting to happen when you realise they’re mere seconds away from colliding head on in to the steel pike, “Wait— Megan! Ella! There’s a– oh…”

With a shuddering slam and crack Megan’s ditzy state knocks her to her knees with a red bump centred laughably on her forehead, slumped in pain next to an even more..distressing phone.

“What the fuck?? Since when was that even- wha— my Sylus, no!!!” Names like Sylus that you’d only find in these over-the-top dating sims currently plague the city on every billboard you see. Stores hopped on to the trend the minute they could and before you knew it everyone and their moms were playing this stupid game!

“Megan you klutz! The screen’s all smashed, jesus..” Ella’s focused on checking the beyond fixable screen on one hand and calming down a panicked Megan on the other, who’s dramatically pulling at the pink streaks in her hair until they splintered and ripped in her hands.

Opening your mouth is the last thing you should be doing, at least not right now but your internal thoughts slip through anyway. “Well maybe if you weren’t so focused on some ugly game character you could’ve saved yourself a 100 dollar trip to the repairs.” You’re expecting a laugh from Ella to some degree but the both of them stare back, hard, and by her eyes it looks like Megan’s about to break down in to crocodile tears.

“Wrong time?” Sighing, you crouch down to Megan’s height as she aggressively taps on her glitched screen with literal screen glass embedding in to her finger pads, ouch... “Megs—“

“No!! What am I going to do I’m going to lose my tubatu sim streak!” Six months ago when the game was unheard of in its early phases you would’ve thought she was mourning a loved one and not some log-in based incentive for…Tubatu’s dating sim.

Out of all the things your friend could be worrying about right now it just has to be that snoozefest of a game and you’ve absolutely hated it since it turned half the world in to braindead zombies over some abs.

For no reason at all the pair of trouble start to tug on the sleeve of your shirt, pulling you forward in to a ‘group whisper’ session with your knees buckling each others’ uncomfortably.

“Pleasee~ pleasepleaseplease give it a chance y/n!” Megan chimes with her grip on your wrist becoming tighter in case you wanted to avoid the same old ‘play this dating sim with us’ talk you’ve been recurringly running away from over the last two months. No chance are you giving that game a sho-

—Ow! Scowling, your hand reaches to console the back of your head, soothing the tender burn left as an aftermath of a ‘violent’ slap and the agitating chuckle following shortly after.

“Miss me? Do you guys know how weird it is to be conspiring like this in the middle of the sidewalk?”

Upon recognising the same sing-song tune of his voice you scowl harder. Lifting your head up to meet his amused ones staring back at you with a playful smile swabbed on his face.

Soobin; he’s everyone who lives down the road’s son with how much he’s always running errands and abusing his good looks to get what he wants from middle aged aunties. And you? You’ve been constantly attached by an arm and leg to his side, it’s a well overused joke now among your circle that Soobin’s ‘lived more of your life than you have’ with how often you’re seen together.

“Woah! Just my luck—quick! No pants man convince her that Tubatu’s dating sim is fun!” Megan puts on a one-man show in bowing down and pleading Soobin, honestly you don’t know what’s gotten in to her since she started playing.

The male heartily laughs and swats at Megan to stop before onlookers misread the situation. “Your phone looks a mess, what happened to it?”

“That dating sim happened to it, that’s what.” Soobin’s finger comes to flick your forehead at your attitude. He’s always been keeping you in check knowing how horribly wrong you can be interpreted with your baseless words.

“Oh loosen up for once, I don’t think it’s that bad of a game, I mean if the whole country’s in love with it then surely it must be good—“

“I’m convinced all of this hype is a PR stunt.” Chewing on your nails you slowly lift yourself from your squatting position on the ground which only causes more problems when your head uppercuts Soobin’s chin at unexplainable force.

“The two of you really remind me of Zen and the main character you know- always bickering.” Ella’s comment doesn’t amuse you at all, because first of all, you hate being associated with that corny dating sim and second, you get shivers whenever someone brings up Soobin in a romantic view.

“Pfft, do you really hate the idea of being with me so much?” He must’ve picked up on your grossed-out expression.

“Anddd won’t you look at the time! Oh geez I need to head back like..right now!” You’re quick on your feet to swivel back ‘round to the crossing leading you back to your apartment before Megan and Ella could hassle you with the dating sim talk any further; the information overload turning your brain in to mush.

You don’t even know why your hand automatically wraps around Soobin’s as you dart for the crossing once it flashes blaring green, dragging him faster than his long legs could support.

“Don’t break her Soob! She hasn’t been fucked in months!” If Megan wasn’t right you would’ve strangled her purple to keep her quiet, but truth be told your usually fuck buddy Intak got a girlfriend which you can’t blame him for and you haven’t been laid since, so maybe you should take Ella’s advice and blow off some steam with the dating si-

Fuck !! All their nonsense talk is really doing your head in now :(( Too caught up in your own thoughts you don’t notice the burning up Soobin as you continue to lead him through the bustling city streets, his hands starting to become clammy with sweat the more he overthinks Megan’s joke.

After all, it’s not like hasn’t thought about it ever..

Hissing repeatedly is the kettle in the shared kitchen, the noise leaking through your closed doors with how still and mundane your day is going.

Rolling on to your back you blink at the harsh light shining right at you, covers pulled up past your head as you kick and groan in frustration. You hate to admit it but with such an uneventful life this summer moving forward, you catch yourself scrolling to the app store and typing in the forbidden name. You mean, just trying it out to see what’s so ‘good’ about it doesn’t hurt anyone right?

Wrong! Because an hour in to the game and you’re hooked. Whatever drugs the game devs put in to the code it’s for sure working and you’re living evidence of it. Chapter after chapter you’re overthinking each option in order to get the most hearts as the game calls it, and in exchange for those hearts you get to dress up your character and unlock side stories. And for once in your life you feel like apologising to Megan for being so wrong about the game since you’re more than hooked, you’re addicted.

“What the— are you joking? How does saying thanks on a date lose me two hearts?!! Am I supposed to spit on him or someth—“

Knock Knock,

“I made dinner if you want so—“

“I’ll have it later Lily I’m busy !!!” A part of you feels sorry for the sweet girl who’s probably sat alone at the table right now scraping her fork along the plate, but a special quest popped up just in time for you to earn a couple more hearts if you wanted to purchase the hair you’ve been eyeing.

Hell, you even ignore Soobin’s phone call just to keep playing the game, your phone attached by a strewn and mangled charger as you complete half of the game’s content in one sitting. It’s only when you reach a slump after taking on an almost impossible quest where all of your choices worked out of your favour.

The stupid game resets your process to the very start of the chapter for the pettiest things, including choosing to have a different pasta shape to the love interests’ at a restaurant?! It’s absurd!!

A couple more attempts later and you’re completely drained of all energy to even bother clearing the chapter again, instead letting your eyes fuzz out the ambient lighting of your room until you succumbed to your own exhaustion.

‘Good morning user, welcome to the..’

You’re barely awake when you notice your alarm sounds different, like an internal monologue rather than the irritating concoction of ear bleeding melodies mixed in to one.

‘the system would like to gift you..’

If your alarm wants to see tomorrow then it should learn to shut up the moment you start groaning and taping a pillow to the other side of your ear to sound it out. Except it doesn’t at all.

Sitting straight up in a dazed state you suddenly feel pain in your shoulders which irks you to groan and stretch and what the fuck?!!!—

Two pink pixelated buttons floated (??) in the air in front of you?! Marked with a letter icon and an exclamation mark you believe you’ve lost your mind or stuck in a fever dream as you shuffle back to the wall of your bed.

Take a quick breath for a second because nothing’s making sense— particularly the floating buttons that defy the laws of nature in your very own room right now?!! No matter how hardly you pinch at your skin and slap at your face you don’t magically return back to the logical earth, completely stuck in a trance of shock and confusion.

It’s when the monologue returns again that you understand the noise was anything but the alarm— some entity who’s decided to fucking mess with your head and create visions that made you feel insane.

“Welcome user, would you like to update your nickname?” Still rubbing your eyes as if they were going to make the situation any clearer your head pounds as the familiarity of the question toils through your memory.

Right under the bright pink pop-up flashed in front of you now are pink retro letters, boldly spelling out ‘Angel’ which essentially causes your heart to drop and run your blood cold.

Angel. The random pseudonym you chose for yourself upon downloading that dating sim game, a mere span of a moment kind of thing where you saw a pair of angel wings on the home screen and lazily typed it in thinking not much of it. Why on earth would this suddenly come to you in a dream? Or a hallucination of some sort— God who knows what you’ve done to yourself!!

‘Name change request expired. You cannot change your name later on.’ Oh come on..really? No shitty system warned you there was a time limit in changing your name.

Whatever..by the time you wake up the whole name change won’t matter a thing, so at least you thought as you shifted your legs towards the exclamation button in front of you.

‘Welcome to Tubatu’s Dating Sim ! A bug in the system has granted you an offer- 5 targets to nail down within 5 weeks and you’ll be on a mind-blowing transportation back to your world !! Every week you will receive a quest to achieve in order to boost the lovemeter above your head which is increased by heart points— you can earn heart points in the following ways: holding hands 5 points, a kiss 20 points, and the most efficient way of all..sex!! For a whopping 100 points. Once you’ve filled up your lovemeter the system will permit your return, however if you fail to conquer the hearts, and bodies, of the 5 love interests you’ll be stuck in this simulator forever :( Good luck user and have fun !’

Have fun? This the most bull shit you’ve heard ever since Soobin told you he knew how to kiss !! Out of all the situations you could’ve found yourself in being trapped in a dating sim is possibly the worst. And if all of this turns out to be true, then 5 weeks or else you’re stuck here forever might kill you on the spot.

Actually, it’s far from the dating sim you’re used to. Despite all the controls and buttons being identical, you don’t recall fucking a love interest as one of the methods to receiving heart points?!!

Though before you can register the information overload in to a sensical situation a grand message pops up from thin air in front of you again in the same pink-pixelated letters.

Mission: break the ice !! Your co-worker seems to be in a bit of trouble with his shift, head down to help him out tonight in other ways than work in exchange for heart points <3 target: Kang Taehyun, hint: Stay until closing time.

If there’s anything you’d remember from playing the game in one sitting it would be that none of the love interests had the ordinary sounding names of people you know in real life?? What on earth happened to those extremely inconveniently spelt names? For starters, Taehyun’s your co worker!! How can you fuck him for these dumb heart points— he’s a whole brick wall to talk to..and if you’re being honest being fired for harassment doesn’t sound great right now because you’d probably report him to the manager if he suddenly asked to have sex ?!!

You wonder if ignoring the quest will do you any good as you wait—still befuddled and in a mess— standing in front of a mirror where you gawk at the lovemeter ridiculously low at 0% above your head, and a ticking timer in an even more ridiculous hot pink on top. One that’s egging you on to complete the mission because in the nicest way possible you’d rather ride your awkward coworker than stay stuck here forever in case!! ><

A/N: just a brief introduction to how the whole dating sim trope will work ^^ I’m not sure if this is confusing for readers who haven’t heard of the isekai genre before but from now I’ll start working on the actual plot and smut itself !! ^^

taglist: @bamtor1sss @ruinxas @gyutaepie @satan-223 @akitfffr @lovesickchoi @komigyu @pengningie @chocomoas @vvjolyneee @glitteryheartbanana

#txt #txt smut #yeonjun smut #hueningkai smut #beomgyu smut #soobin smut #taehyun smut #tyunningism writes!!#tyunningism ready player one ?

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sparklypinkflightsuit · 7 months ago

Text

Love To Watch You Leave: Part 1

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Bullying, Eventual Smut, Grieving, Pining, Alcohol, Military Inaccuracies, Knife Violence, updated warnings as the series progresses.

—————————

18+ Only

—————————

Since you can remember, Bradley Bradshaw has been the bane of your existence.

Your earliest recollection of him is when you moved to town, just next door to him. He was a good 5 years older than you, but you immediately had a huge crush on him.

This was quickly squashed when he began to tease you, and then teasing turned to bullying, and you swore you’d spend the rest of your life hating him.

You remember seeing him playing in his garden when you were 7, hanging some toy planes in a tree and shooting them out with his slingshot.

You meandered over in your little yellow dress, hair curled and all of your best glittery bracelets on, you looked adorable and we’re confident he would think you were the bees knees.

You stood watching him destroy his toy planes, patiently waiting for him to notice you.

Eventually you spoke up, “That looks like fun, can I play?”

Bradley turned around to eye you up, the 12 year old glaring at you like he’d never seen a girl before. He then turned back around, ignoring you, and continued to shoot at his planes.

You walked closer and looked up at him.

“I’m Y/N! What’s your name?”

Bradley scowled down at you, “This game isn’t for girls, and my name is none of your business, kid, now scram.”

Your smile fell from your face, and you crossed your arms with a huff, “That’s rude. I’m gonna tell my mom if you don’t let me play with you.”

Bradley lifted his slingshot and aimed it right at you, you screamed and ducked before running back to your house.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Bradley shot a pebble at you, but luckily his aim was still shocking and he missed.

From that day onwards, you tried to steer clear of the mean boy next door, but that was becoming increasingly difficult as your mom became friends with his mom. They spent a lot of time chatting on the steps in front of each others houses, and tried very hard to coax you and Bradley to play together.

“I don’t want to go over, can’t I just stay here?” You argued one day, your mom brushing your soft locks as she got you ready for a play date next door.

“No my love, I can’t leave you home alone. Carole has kindly made us lunch so it would be rude not to go, wouldn’t it?” She said softly. Your mom was so gentle but it was hard to argue with her reasoning.

You nodded sulkily, and a few minutes later you were being carted off to the Bradshaws, your hand in your moms and eyes red from your crocodile tears.

Carole welcomed you inside, but Bradley was nowhere to be seen, much to your relief.

You liked Carole, she was warm and friendly, much like your own mom, and you were more than happy to sit with the adults and converse about your new barbie and how school was going, but much to your dismay, Carole took your hand and guided you to her sons bedroom.

“Here you go sweetheart, Bradley’s inside, I’m sure he’ll let you play with any of his toys.” She said sweetly, pushing the door open and nudging you inside.

The bedroom was blue and covered with model airplanes and cars, very much a boys bedroom, and Bradley sat in the centre of his bed, tearing apart an old plastic truck he’d clearly damaged during one of his rather destructive play times.

You stood awkwardly at the door as Carole walked away.

Bradley glanced up at you before looking back down at his toy, tearing bits of plastic off. “If you touch any of my stuff I’ll get you with my slingshot. I’ve been practicing.”

You frowned and your arms crossed over your polka dot dress. “My mom says if a boy is mean to you, it means he likes you.” You stated confidently.

Bradley pulled a face and stuck his tongue out in disgust, “Gross, girls have cooties, and you look like you have the most cooties out of everyone. And your pigtails are stupid.”

You went red with rage, how dare he insult your hair. Angrily you balled your hands into fists and stormed over to Bradley, landing a punch against his arm. He barely winced, but he turned and shoved you so hard that you landed with an ‘ooph’ on the ground.

You burst into tears, wailing for your mom who quickly came to your aid.

“Baby what happened?” She cooed, scooping you up in her arms as Carole glared down at Bradley.

“He- he PUSHED me!” You wailed, and Bradley scowled at you.

“She punched me first!” He argued.

Unfortunately for your mom and Carole, this little spat resulted in you having to go home early, and they resorted to chatting in the garden going forward, but you were more than happy not to have to see Bradley much going forward.

You would occasionally see him playing in the front garden, but you’d just ignore him and play by yourself. Eventually you made friends and Bradley was actually nice to them, but still treated you as if you had a highly contagious disease.

Your little heart hated him to the best of its ability, and you avoided him like the plague, yet he would still throw water balloons at you when you weren’t looking, or tell his friends that you were weird. Sometimes he would call you names as he drove past on his bike, but all of that was nothing compared to when you started high school.

Bradley was in his final year as you started your first, and still as immature as the day you met him, he made your life a living hell.

You remembered your first day for all of the wrong reasons.

You met up with your friends at the front gate, all walking in for your first day of high school together, excited about what was to come and nervous at the same time. You had bought cute matching stationary and a new outfit for the first day of school, and your mom had dropped you off, as proud as a mother could be.

But all of that excitement was quickly dampened as soon as you saw Bradley in the corridor, the smile on your face dropping like melted ice cream.

He had spotted you first, staring at you menacingly from his circle of friends down the further end of the corridor.

“Who’s that, your little girlfriend?” One of his friends teased, a dorky looking guy.

“Her? Not a chance. She’s my weird neighbour. She’s been obsessed with me since we were kids.” He told his friends.

You had stopped listening to your friends chatting now, your ears straining to make out Bradley’s words as your face grew blood red.

“Her dad even had to leave the country just to get away from her, she’s a psycho. Once had to actually shove her off of me just to get her to take a hint.” You watched in horror as he lied to his friends, your heart shattering when he brought up your dad.

Your dad had moved to the UK when he divorced your mom after finding someone else. You didn’t hate him for it, but it hurt that he’d abandoned you so easily, and hearing Bradley twist the situation made you want to throw up.

You ran into the bathroom and began to sob, you contemplated even just calling your mom to pick you up, not sure you could ever show your face again, but your friends managed to calm you down and you agreed to see the day through.

You had hoped his bullying would end there, but most days you couldn’t even get to classes without either Bradley or one of his stupid friends mocking you, calling you names or spreading a rumour. Retaliating only made it worse, and his friends would argue that you were obsessed with him and we’re finding reasons to speak to him, so eventually you stopped defending yourself.

Once you even made the mistake of wearing white jeans to school, and Bradley squeezed ketchup down the back of them as he walked past you in the cafeteria, then loudly exclaiming that you’d gotten your period.

Thankfully, once Bradley had graduated high school, you barely had to deal with him anymore, and the rest of high school passed in a much lighter fashion.

Around summer time in 9th grade however, your world came crashing down suddenly, when Carole passed away. You’d come to adore her, even if her son was your worst nightmare.

You and your mom mourned her but Bradley of course was in the worst state.

Alone in his moms house, your mom would often

go over and cook dinner for him, ensuring he had anything he needed. She had asked Bradley to come and stay, but he had declined politely, saying he was able to look after himself and would rather be in his own home.

You actually felt bad for him, and despite your troubled past with him, you decided to offer your condolences.

Braving it, you walked over to his house and knocked on the door. A few minutes passed without an answer, so you knocked again.

Eventually you decided to let yourself in, so you pushed the door open and carefully stepped inside.

“Bradley?” You called out. The house felt empty and sounded even more so. You ventured further in and checked the lounge, kitchen and hallway. Nothing.

Bradley’s room was empty, so you checked Carole’s last, and to your surprise Bradley was curled up on his moms bed, fast asleep.

You thought about just leaving, which you probably should have, but something inside you urged you forward. You sat at the end of the bed and waited. You weren’t sure what you were waiting for, not sure what you could even say or do to make him feel better. You weren’t even sure why you were trying to make him feel better, but your heart ached for him.

Slowly you reached out and placed a gentle hand against his ankle, shaking him.

Bradley stirred, but didn’t seem to wake, so you shook him again.

“Bradley.” You whispered.

He suddenly shot up in bed, a look of confusion on his face as he stared at you groggily.

“What are you doing here?” He spat.

“I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry, for your loss. I can’t… can’t imagine what you’re going through, and I didn’t like the thought of you being all alone so I-“

He cut you off with a snap, “So you thought you’d just break into my house and sit here like a creep, watching me?”

You didn’t know what to say, you were surprised by his level of anger, even for Bradley.

“No, I knocked, I just-“

“What is wrong with you? Can you just get out? Leave me the fuck alone, Y/N.” He laid back down and turned his back on you, and you fought back tears as you left.

You decided that you were officially done with Bradley Bradshaw then and there, and when he joined the navy, you thought if you never saw him again, it would still be too soon.

————————————

After high school, you went on to study Meteorology in New York, and would often visit home, or your mom would come to New York to visit you, but not once did you see Bradley, despite the fact that he had not yet sold Carole’s house.

You were quite relieved, but over the years the hatred subsided slightly, although it never fully went away. As an adult you grew past it, you were the bigger person and you pitied him in the end.

In college you met someone and moved in together, life was actually looking up, but after 7 years together and with your studies now finished, your relationship quickly fell apart, and you decided to move back home.

 Around a week after moving back home, you sat on the front porch reading your new book, checking your phone every half an hour, waiting to hear back about job interviews, when a familiar truck pulled up outside Carole’s house.

You looked up, squinting against the afternoon sun, and your body turned cold.

Bradley.

You hadn’t seen him in many years, thankfully, and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to notice you.

You ducked your head down and pretended to read, holding your breath as you waited for him to go inside. Unfortunately today was not your lucky day and you heard the hard ground crunch under his boots.

“Well I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

His deep voice rang out across your garden. You groaned and looked up at him. He looked different. He was big now, muscles bulging out of every limb, taller than you’d remembered and a corny porn star moustache on his lip. He still had the same curls, but they were now tinted gold by the sun and his skin had a warmer tone.

He looked good, you couldn’t deny that.

“Bradshaw. Long time no see, sad that my record is broken.” You broke eye contact and looked back down at your book, hoping he’d take a hint and leave.

Bradley chuckled dryly, swinging his car keys around his finger.

“I hear your relationship crashed and burned. Can’t say it surprises me.” He smirked.

“Eat a dick, Bradley.” You said as you got up and went to move inside.

“Nice to see you haven’t changed.” He mumbled.

You suddenly grew hot, rage bubbling up under your skin, and you spun round to face him.

“Me?! Good to see you’re still the same ass face as you were 10 years ago.” You spat back.

“Wow, great come back, Einstein. Is that what you left to study? If so you really should go back to school.”

He was getting under your skin and he knew it, yet he stood there as cool as a cucumber.

“Fuck you!” You yelled, throwing your book at him. It hit his shoulder as he moved to block it and landed on the ground with a thump.

“Jeez, calm down, you’re so feisty now.” He bent to pick up your book and began reading an except.

“And she longed to run her hands through his soft golden locks-“

You ran down the steps and tried to grab the book, “Give that back.” But he held it out of reach.

“and dreamt of his lips on hers, but it never would be, not when he was betrothed to another.” He chuckled as he read, finding it amusing how you struggled to reach. “Wow, you really do need this book, considering it’s all the action you’re gonna get.”

You huffed as he shoved the book into your chest. “I thought you would have grown up by now, but I really shouldn’t be surprised to see you’re still the same immature child you always were.” You turned to walk into the house just as your mom came to see what all the commotion was.

She beamed as she laid eyes on Bradley and stuck out her arms for a hug, walking down the steps towards him, “Sweetheart! How are you?”

Bradley happily hugged her back and grinned over her shoulder at you. “I’m good Elsie, thank you, how are you?” As if butter wouldn’t melt.

“I’m good my love, I see you’ve been catching up with my darling daughter, don’t let me interrupt. Hope you’ll come over for dinner some time before you get deployed again!” She smiled at you both as she went back into the house.

You glared at Bradley. “Please don’t tell me you’ve started dating my mom?”

You joked.

Bradley winked at you as he turned to walk away, “Rather your mom than you.” He replied.

You knew he was joking, or at least you hoped, but it stung that Bradley hadn’t changed, and what was worse was that he seemingly knew all about your failed relationship yet you knew nothing about his life. The last thing you wanted was for him to have yet another one-up on you.

Little did you know that would be the very least of your worries that month.

———————————

- Part 2 Here -

#rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #miles teller x reader #miles teller #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fic #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick

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henrioo · 1 year ago

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°•*⁀➷ THE BIG CROCO BROTHER: CROCODILE

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Being a father was not easy, imposing limits was necessary and no matter how cute his face was, that of the Crocodile's only son, he couldn't allow you to do whatever you wanted... Especially when you're running around with three deadly wild animals."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP! NON ROMANCE, Father and Son! Male reader! Child reader! Soft dad Crocodile! Cross guild! Savage animals (bananawani), the reader has a powerful man in his control (his own dad)

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : And here I'm again, trying to post again and idk, nothing much to say today, my mood is horrible and my life sucks, but here some family fluffy to see if that motivates me to write again. Also the names of the wani are terrible because my discord friends choose them lol hahahah blank/no pronouns/fem=block

Crocodile was listening to Mihawk talking about the latest news he had gotten on his last trip, Buggy was looking at some maps that his henchmen had given him and the lizard himself was looking at the management papers of that entire alliance. At least now it was working a little better and giving more profit than headaches, but Crocodile still refused to accept that a circus really had so many needs and needed such a big budget just for those pathetic shows... that clown was probably deceiving.

“FUCK!” Buggy shouted, making the dark-haired man snap out of his reverie and try to figure out what the shouting was about.

It was then that he saw a peculiar scene that had curiously been repeated a lot in the last few days. One of the baby bananawani was biting Buggy's leg, another seemed to be eager to eat the clown's colorful papers and the third and last was trying... no, he was begging for a lap to the strongest swordsman in the world who simply stared at him without reaction.

You see, being a parent is extremely difficult. Being a father and being a pirate with a young son and with Crocodile's current situation is even more so, he wouldn't want that to be the case but he really managed to be quite absent, he tried to make up for it by spoiling you and the problem was that he spoiled you a bit too much. You weren't a bad or rude child, but you simply faithfully believed that you could have the world at your feet if you asked your father nicely. Of course you could, but it wasn't good for your ego to be completely sure of it.

So, in a way of trying to teach you some good values like responsibility and any other nonsense, he left you in charge of taking care of three bananawani babies. You needed to feed them, take them out of the water tank, clean the tank, all the normal activities of a normal pet. With the difference that your pets were deadly creatures even as babies and were more than ready to rip off some arms for your protection.

“(Y/n), what did we talk about getting them out of the tank?” Crocodile sighed, this wasn't the first time the babies had wandered around the ship instead of being safe in their water tanks. He can still hear the cries of the henchmen who received unexpected bites because their pets were out of control.

“I’m sorry daddy” you said entering the room, you quickly went to the baby in Mihawk and picked him up. Not completely up since that single bananawani baby must have been heavier than you, so you just held him the best you could with his entire lower part dragging on the floor.

Buggy whimpered trying to pull the baby off his leg which only made him bite harder, causing the clown to scream again. Crocodile sighed and got up to help you deal with the mess.

“They’re still too young to wander around alone, they’ll just create trouble” he tried to convince you again.

“But... Miss Banana Split was sad” you said worriedly as you looked at the lizard in your arms who was smiling happily like a baby in his parents arms. Crocodile could feel Mihawk's eyes on him from the animal's name but he decided to ignore it.

“They are sweet animals, they don’t get sad” he tried to convince you, ruffling your hair.

“Of course they stay! Mr. Banana even whines!” You said with a huge hurt pout, heavens you really loved those animals...

“Look at feelings, I don’t know, but this pest is really hungry and is about to swallow my leg, so if you can have a father-son moment another time, I’d appreciate it!” Buggy screamed desperately, shaking his leg again, trying to free the animal, but in vain.

“Sorry, Mr. Buggy… Drake is eating too much these days…” you said, releasing the one in your arms and going to take the other one off the clown’s leg. Luckily the animal was happy to be picked up by you and easily released its prey.

“Drake?” Buffy looked at you perplexed, was that the fucking name you chose?

“Don’t you dare” Crocodile growled at him as if he could read his thoughts. It was a clear message, make my son ashamed of the names he chose and you will become real bananawani food.

“They like being close to you daddy” you said petting Drake who was rubbing against you, the other two cubs at Crocodile’s feet.

“Of course they do, I was there when they were born, that doesn't mean you can let them loose like that” he crouched down to your height “They're still cubs and without training, you won't find it fun if they actually eat someone's leg would you?” Crocodile would find it hilarious, but you were a good-hearted child so you just shook your head “See? So for now let’s keep them in the tank and teach them some tricks, if they can behave you can spend more time with them, okay?”

"Okay!" You smiled happily at the possibility of continuing the walk with your animals, without waiting any longer you picked up Drake and dragged him out of the room, followed by the other two animals.

Crocodile sighed, satisfied that you would obey him for now, at least this way he would stop hearing the clown crying.

“Drake? Seriously? What the fuck is that name? For a bananawani!” Buffy said shocked once you were far enough away, he wasn't even paying attention to the ruined maps.

“Shut up…” your father would also love to know where you got that name from but that was an answer that not even you had.

“I actually found Miss Banana Split quite charming” Mihawk said with a cocky grin at Crocodile who just snorted, getting annoyed. He didn't mind having a son as his weakness, but having that weakness exposed and made fun of was something he hadn't gotten used to yet.

“Go back to work” he said irritably, just wanting to pretend that none of that had happened.

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inkspiredwriting · 7 months ago

Text

A Monday

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

6:00 AM: The alarm clock blared, rousing Five Hargreeves from his sleep. He groaned, reaching over to silence it. Beside him, Y/n stirred, blinking awake.

"Morning already?" Y/n mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Unfortunately," Five said with a sigh. He rolled out of bed, rubbing his eyes. "Let’s get this day started."

Y/n stretched and followed him, the couple moving like a well-practiced team. Today was a Monday, and they had a busy schedule ahead.

6:30 AM: The kitchen was a scene of organized chaos. Maddie, their six-year-old daughter, was at the table with her morning cereal, giggling as she made her spoon float in the air.

"Maddie, remember what we said about using your powers at the table," Five said, pouring coffee into two mugs.

"I know, Daddy," Maddie said, reluctantly lowering her spoon.

"Where’s Milo?" Y/n asked, glancing around.

"I’ve got him," Five replied, lifting their two-year-old son from his high chair. Milo babbled happily, smearing oatmeal on his face with a chubby hand.

"Oatmeal artist in the making," Y/n said, smiling as she wiped Milo’s face. "What do you have planned for today, Five?"

"Meetings at the CIA office," Five said, making a face. "But I'll try to be home early."

"Good luck," Y/n said, giving him a sympathetic look. "I’ve got a busy day at the bookstore too."

7:30 AM: Five was dressed in his usual sharp attire, adjusting his tie in the hallway mirror. Maddie was in her school uniform, her backpack already slung over one shoulder.

"Ready for school, superstar?" Five asked, smiling at Maddie.

"Yep! We’re learning about space today!" Maddie said excitedly.

"A future astronaut," Y/n said proudly, planting a kiss on Maddie’s head.

"Where’s my kiss?" Five teased, leaning towards Maddie.

"Here you go, Daddy!" Maddie said, giving him a peck on the cheek. "And don’t forget to pick me up after school!"

"Wouldn’t dream of it," Five said.

Y/n handed Milo to Five and pulled Maddie into a hug. "Be good at school and remember to only use your powers in an emergency."

"I will, Mommy," Maddie promised.

8:00 AM: The family loaded into the car, Five driving with Maddie in the back and Milo in his car seat.

"Time to drop Maddie off at school and then Milo at daycare," Five said, checking his watch.

"And then us to work," Y/n added, tapping her fingers on the dashboard.

"Can we listen to the space song?" Maddie asked, bouncing in her seat.

"Of course," Y/n said, turning on the radio to Maddie’s favorite song about space exploration. Maddie sang along happily, her enthusiasm infectious.

9:00 AM: Five dropped Maddie off at her elementary school. "See you later, alligator," he said, waving as she skipped into the building.

"After a while, crocodile!" Maddie called back, laughing.

Next stop was Milo’s daycare. "Be good, little man," Five said, handing Milo over to the caregiver.

"Daddy will be back soon," Five said, waving goodbye to Milo.

10:00 AM: Five and Y/n arrived at their respective workplaces. Five at the CIA office, a day full of meetings ahead, and Y/n at her cozy bookstore around the corner, where she was greeted by the comforting smell of books and coffee.

12:00 PM: At the CIA office, Five sat through another tedious meeting. His mind wandered to his family, and he found himself doodling a picture of Y/n, Maddie, and Milo in the margins of his notes.

"Five, are you paying attention?" his boss asked.

"Of course," Five replied smoothly, hiding his drawing. "We’re discussing the activities of the cult right?"

1:00 PM: Lunchtime at the bookstore was a welcome break for Y/n. She munched on her sandwich, glancing through the children’s section to find a new book for Maddie. A colorful story about a magical forest caught her eye.

"Perfect," she murmured, adding it to her pile. "Maddie will love this."

3:00 PM: Five wrapped up his meetings and made his way back to the school to pick up Maddie. She ran to him with her usual exuberance.

"Daddy! I drew a picture of a rocket ship!" Maddie said, waving her drawing.

"Looks amazing!" Five said, admiring her artwork. "Let’s go get Milo and head home."

4:00 PM: At the daycare, Milo was ready to go, reaching out to Five with a big smile. "Da-da!" he babbled.

"Hi, buddy," Five said, lifting him into his arms. "Let’s go home."

5:00 PM: Back at home, Y/n arrived shortly after them. The family reunited in the living room, surrounded by the comfortable chaos of toys and laughter.

"Dinner time!" Y/n announced, heading to the kitchen.

Five played with the kids in the living room, Milo attempting to stack blocks while Maddie floated a toy spaceship above their heads.

"Mission control to astronaut Maddie, come in," Five said, holding up a toy walkie-talkie.

"Astronaut Maddie here," Maddie replied, giggling. "We’re ready for lift-off!"

6:30 PM: Dinner was a lively affair. Maddie chattered about her day at school, while Milo attempted to feed himself, making more of a mess than anything.

"You’re wearing more spaghetti than you’re eating," Five said, laughing as he wiped Milo’s face.

"Maddie, tell your mom about your space project," Five prompted, serving another helping of spaghetti.

"I made a model of the solar system!" Maddie said proudly. "It’s got all the planets and even an asteroid belt."

"I can’t wait to see it," Y/n said, beaming at her.

8:00 PM: Bedtime routines began. Y/n read Maddie another chapter from her new book, while Five rocked Milo to sleep, humming softly.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Y/n said, kissing Maddie’s forehead.

"Night, Mommy" Maddie said, snuggling into her bed.

Five placed Milo in his crib, turning on the nightlight shaped like a moon. "Sleep tight, little man," he whispered.

9:00 PM: The house quieted down. Five and Y/n settled on the couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn and watching a movie. They leaned into each other, enjoying the rare peaceful moment.

"Today was a good day," Y/n said, her head on Five’s shoulder.

"Every day with you and the kids is a good day," Five replied, kissing the top of her head.

"Even Mondays?" Y/n teased.

"Especially Mondays," Five said, squeezing her hand.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #five hargreeves

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xxstylefntsyxx · 6 months ago

Note

Female Daisuke x female reader.. PLSSSSS

MY FIRST ASK FINALLY YESSS YESS HEHEHEH OFC I WILLLLLLLLLLLLLLL AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! (The scream i did running to my phone when my tablet notified me! Thank you, Anon! ) Girlie's for the girlie's! Alright, so here are the rules! Everyone got the same name cause I'm not finna rack my brain on names my poor mind will break. And also, umm, bare with me, hehehe.......

Themes: Fluffy, I'm sorry, dark themes, comfort, love before the storm, mention of death

We fell in love in Octoberzl- thats why, I love fall

You were downstairs making some coco. It was a nice fall night, and you two were restless trying to beat each other in a game of skullgirls. You came back upstairs with two simple mugs and cookies.

"Alright, baby! Are you ready to lose again? For the second time?" You asked seductively. Daisuke turned around in her chair with a pout, "Nah, uh! I didn't lose! You quiet literally cheated!"

"How do you cheat at this game, daisuke?" You asked, tilting your head slightly. She didn't know what else to say, but she stubbornly huffed a, "Fine! Have it your way! Cheater."

You came over and set down the tray, "Well we'll just have to see about that." You got over to your respected chair, putting your headphones on.

☆hour later☆

"And that's game!" You said triumphantly. Daisuke turned around with a face of pure shock, "You are so.... so! Lucky I love you." She got up to wander over to you. You were busy setting up the next game when her hands wrapped lovingly around your shoulders.

She leaned down, kissing your neck slowly, "So~ Since you won, what's for today's agenda?"

You gave her a knowing look, "Movie, Snacks and Blankets sound good, don't they?"

"You're such a dork!- What movie are we watching?"

She snuggled close to you with her hand around your upper chest. She indulged herself in a nice boob pillow while she asked endless questions about the movie you chose.

"Okay. So quite literally why didn't the dad just I don't know, believe his son. It's a world of animals! Isn't that pretty absurd already!?" She complained.

"It's littlest, dude. I'm not gonna explain it again." You said with a goofy grin. You faked a pout when her eyes met yours. But those large brown eyes that had galaxies far beyond comprehension, they got to you. Your face faltered.

Your hands fell upon her face. Swishing her little cheeks together, making her nose scrunch. You wandered why this felt familiar...

"You need to be held responsible for your crimes against me! Not tell me stuff! Hmmph!"

Oh....

Right, because you weren't at home. You were on a ship that had crashed with dangerous individuals. You two weren't hugging and laying around the house. You were holding her hand like a baby, trying to fix what was broken.

"DAI! PLEASE STAY CALM! I- I PROMISE YOU'LL BE ALRIGHT!" She looked so peaceful before. You hated when she cried. She sniffled and whined, pain set deep in her shoulder. She couldn't move much, occasionally shifting from the pain that struck her.

Stupid Jimmy, making her climb through that vent. She just wanted to help - she just wanted for Anya to be alright. Alright? No, everything was not alright!

Jimmy stood their like an idiot. Shaking with wide eyes filled with those fake crocodile tears. You were quick on your feet. Storming towards him in malice. His face didn't change when you grabbed his shirt.

You hit him once, twice, one more time before you screeched, "What did you do! What did you do to her!? Look what you've done! Look what you've DONE! YOU CAN'T FIX IT JIMMY! YOU NEVER FIX IT! YOU JEVER FIX ANYTHING! YOU WORTHLESS SACK OF HORSESHIT!"

"I can fix it!" He babbled like a baby, but you weren't having it. Your fists were raw, raining down on Jimmy with intent to kill at this point.

"You can't FIX ANYTHING! YOU'RE A FUCKING DISCRACE! YOU NEVER WANNA TAKE RESPONSIBILITY! AND NOW DAISUKE! She's-"

Shing-!

"Won't have to suffer this way no longer..." Swansea's voice broke the cries and hits from the two of you. He sat on his knees, axe in hand staring down daisukes shaking form.

"Closer your eyes, daisuke." He commanded with a rather soft voice. Shoving Jimmy aside, your hands flung to cover her body. "Swansea, no! There has to be another way! You can't-!"

"Look at her. Tell me if this is what you want? You want to be selfish and put her through pain like she's curly!? Do you think I wanna do this!? No! The answers, no! I don't want to do this Y/N! But goddammit-!" His voice elevated, but the cry of poor daisuke made his voice lower.

Your eyes shot to her, soft, scared face. Stained with a permanent expression of pain. But her eyes slowly followed up your face. Both of you shared a moment, her soft eyes tears spilling from them.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" You confessed profusely, you grabbed her hand, "We were supposed to get married, remember? Live off in a house where the ocean is a sea of crystals."

Her whines lowered slowly. Her shuffling came slow but still rather shakey. Your eyes couldn't stop-you hated this. Why you two? You two hadn't done anything wrong to Jimmy. It wasn't fair he could do this and get away.

You smiled softly, "You are my best friend, my lover. I promise I'll find you in our next life. And, we will do it all over again. This time, we won't be here. We'll live exactly like we asked, too." You kissed her forhead.

Her body convulsed into another traumatic tremble. Swansea grunted, holding the axe above his head. You couldn't watch. This was a nightmare, and you wanted it to end.

Her cries made you sick, but you bared it. Holding her soft manicured hand in yours. The blood made it sticky, and the feeling made yours run cold.

"Useless waste of sunshine. Just trying to do as your told." He said with a knot in his throat. His eyes averted from hers, "I'm sorry I couldn't be there to do my part. I'm sorry this had to happen to you."

Her last breath sounded like words in your ears. "Lo-ve-! Yo-!" Her hand once gripping yours with blood running through it. Slowly, slowly sitting to release that familiar grip. Your eyes went wide, and you sobbed. You were screaming into the air profanities and woah's. Bawling up on yourself, Swansea dropped his shoulders. His breath came quickly, looking st the floor on his hands.

Jimmy stood up, shaking with his hands in front of his chest fumbling. He left quickly through the exit to the west wing. Swansea didn't let him get away easily. He grabbed the axe, wincing when her face slid with it. He wanted to break down- but not before he ended the man who murdered his kid.

There was only one thing you could do. Sit down and just cry. Cry because you lost her. Cry because someone who everyone thought was trustable took away lives of the good. All because he was a sick individual. Vile, with heinous thoughts.

You started reminiscing. On those good days to soothe you. Holding yourself next to her, you laid down quietly. You closed your eyes, listening to the vibrations underneath the metal floors. You found her hand again.

Yours shook, grabbing it to interlock your fingers. Humming that song that she loved while her body lay still. You were trying to soothe yourself some more. Dreaming off a life you could've had.

BANG!

Oh, how you wished this hell was over. So you couod return to your perfect little daisuke. Sitting happily on the bed while she blavbed about some meta game, you would play with her for a chance, even if you didn't know much about it.

Her smile, her laugh. You await your turn. This ride of hell was tireding. You just wanted to go home.

"In another life."

In another life- I will be your girl

#mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #mouthwashing x reader #daisuke x reader #daisuke mouthwashing #female daisuke x reader #mouthwashing angst #mouthwashing spoilers

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urinarythreatinfection · 1 year ago

Note

may i ask for headcanons for crocodile x child reader where crocodile's daughter joins the strawhats post alabasta?

and the next time they meet in impel down, well. that's not even his daughter anymore. that's his son now.

thank you very much for the open requests!

(from @77v77)

Bet. My first time writing a trans character so I hope it turned out okay. I'm still not used to headcanons so this honestly came out more as a fic, I'm really sorry about that. If you want a redo I don't mind, sorry. I got kinda carried away with a storyline and it turned out like this.

It's Good To See The New You

Crocodile x FTM!Child!Reader. 1562 words. Author isn't trans but trying their best. Feel free to correct if I messed up. (D/N) Is deadname.

This is how your life is, you’ve accepted it. You’re the daughter of someone powerful, strong, rich, you should be happy; but you aren’t. These dresses aren’t making you happy, the people fawning over you aren’t either, even the small amount of attention you get from your father doesn’t truly make you happy. It’s only when something happens, something that was supposed to be negative, that you get a glimpse of what can be your happiness. How could you let it pass you by at that point? Call yourself your father’s daughter, you don’t let opportunities like this just leave. Of course, maybe daughter isn’t something to describe you anymore.

“Take me with you.” Is what you say to Luffy when he’s leaving.

“Hm?” He looks at you, recognizing who you are, and scowls slightly.

“Take me with you, I want to go with you.” You repeat and it only confuses him more, Luffy doesn’t like being confused either.

He thinks you’re trying to pick a fight at first, but when he realizes you aren’t he calms down a bit.

“I just beat up your dad, why do you wanna come with me?” He asks you.

“Because I want to. So let me on.”

“Wha- Don’t give me orders!”

You two end up getting into a small argument, call it childish but you aren’t used to being argued with by anyone other than your father.

Of course, it ends up working out, Luffy lets you on.

Robin even uses you as an excuse to get on as well, your partner in crime.

Luffy’s a little upset he kind of didn’t get as much of a choice as he’d like, but he got over it once Robin worked her charms. (Using her hands to help them make stupid jokes)

As for you, it took a while for you to warm up to them even though you’re the one who got on.

Something just still didn’t feel right.

You felt better than before, of course, but not as good as you’d like.

It’s only when Nami helps you pick out clothes that you realize that you’ve never truly chosen what you’ve wanted.

You were given options of course, but those options were picked from what your father wanted.

When you were looking at dresses Nami noticed you looking unhappy.

“You don’t have to wear a dress if you don’t want to, you know. You can wear something else.” She says casually.

In her mind it was just a fashion tip from one woman to another, something simple.

But to you it was so much more.

From then on you took things into your own hands.

Not just bossy with the things you’re given, but exploring to find your own choices.

You started dressing differently, which might seem so little but it felt so much bigger to you.

Time passes and it was the best choice you’ve ever made, it helped you become your true self.

The crew was confused at first, Sanji was even devastated, but it passed.

Sometimes Sanji still laments, but it’s more just because he was happy to have another woman to fawn over.

He gets over it, you’re happier this way.

You even get the privilege of not having the privilege of Sanji’s over-the-top affection.

Everything is so much better, so much brighter that you almost forget what your life was like before you were truly yourself.

That’s until you meet your father again, a reminder of who you were.

You know it's not his fault, he never bossed you around or told you you couldn’t be your true self.

He just wanted you to be someone that he could have confidently as his child, someone unbreakable; and that's what you were.

An unbreakable broken person.

That’s how you could describe him too, in the state he’s in.

Chained up and defeated, it makes your heart ache.

Even if he wasn’t the best father he was still yours.

He almost doesn’t recognize you at first, glaring at you until it clicks who you are.

“...(D/N)?” He calls to you and you almost flinch from the sound.

It brings shivers up your spine, even if you know it was from ignorance.

You don’t want to respond, not wanting to acknowledge that previous you; but decide it’s time to face it.

Crocodile himself, your father, isn’t the enemy that kept you captive.

“..Father.” You say to him.

“(D/N) you, what are you-”

“That’s not my name” You interrupt him, and it makes him pause.

Not your name?

How isn’t it your name? He named you himself!

“What are you talking about? I figured you joined that Strawhat’s crew but you changed your name for it? Were you..” He trails off, feeling hurt.

Were you that unhappy with him?

Why else would you change your name if not to try and get rid of your past?

You must be ashamed of him, he sure is.

Got beaten by a brat and ended up in a prison getting mistreated by people he could kill in a heartbeat, if only he had the chance to.

“Father.” You catch his attention, snapping him out of the trance of negativity he put himself into.

“It’s not you, if that’s what you were worried about.” You reassure him, and he scoffs.

“If not me what else? You sure seem a hell of a lot brighter now that you’re not with me.” His heart aches.

Despite not wanting to admit it he did have a soft spot for you.

You were his daughter, the small light he had in the darkness, whether the choice to have you was his or not.

“..It’s (Y/N).” You say quietly and he perks up, looking at you closer.

You look different, more different than he realized at first.

“You’ve changed.”

“I know.” There’s a silence.

Crocodile isn’t one to pry, he didn’t pry even when you were his daughter.

“Are you happier?” He asks you, like a sentimental fool.

Your eyes go wide, but they calm as you smile.

“I am, I’m so much happier.”

“Good. Make sure you stay on the other side of these bars, too, (Y/N).” Your father says and your heart clenches.

You’re happy, but sad at the same time.

Here you are, your true self with friends that care about you, meeting your Father again.

This should be happy for you, there shouldn’t be anything bad about this.

Despite that, you feel like crying; and look down.

Because you’ve gained so much, but you’ve lost being your Father’s daughter.

He still cared for you, and you him.

He helped you with your hair, gave you the luxury he grained, treated you with the respect you deserved, he even changed your diapers sometimes when you were little.

Even though he didn’t need to.

Crocodile loved you as much as he could in and in the way he knew how.

So the thought that you’ve lost that love, it hurts.

You don’t want to go back to being his daughter, you don’t want to go back to being a daughter, but you don’t want to lose being his child.

“Hey, don’t give me that look.” You hear him say, and you look back up.

“I know you and how that face you make when you're about to cry. Even if you’re different know you’re still my..” He trails off and you hesitate.

“Son.” Your heart drops, fear overtaking you at the thought of him rejecting you.

“My son.” He says and your vision blurs.

“Jeez, you really don’t listen don’t you? That a Strawhat trait, or did you get it from me?” He says with a sigh as tears roll down your cheeks.

“C’mon, stand up straight. You’re my kid, act it.” Something he would always say to you when you felt insecure.

It never did much other than help you put your mask back on.

But now those words empower you.

More than when they were said by the savior of Alabasta, the fearsome Crocodile.

You nod and wipe your eyes, you can’t cry now.

“That’s right, one of us has to be free." He looks down at himself, weak from mistreatment and seastone.

"Maybe it’s better you than me.” His chains clink as he moves.

“I am free, I feel so free. All the time.” You say, laughing a bit.

It shocks Crocodile, he hasn’t heard you laugh like this in so long.

He'd thought you'd lost it from age, just as he did.

You haven't laughed this freely with him since he could hold you up with one hand.

The sound of his son sounds so much happier than his daughter.

He wishes he knew sooner, maybe he could’ve even given you different life skills.

Too late for that.

“Are you gonna stand here all day looking at your old man? I doubt you’ve come to free me.” You shake your head.

You don’t even have his key.

Your ears perk up at crashing noises, it’s time for you to go.

You look back at your father, eyes clear and bright.

“I’ll be going now, Dad.” You say with a smile and he bites the inside of his cheek to hold any emotion in.

“Go get em, son.” Crocodile says with a chuckle.

You go off and he sits in his cell.

He wonders if this is how you felt, trapped with him and in a body you didn’t feel was your own.

Maybe this is his retribution, his punishment for his wrongdoings.

If there’s a God out there.. he hopes that they keep that punishment to him.

It wouldn’t be fair to drag someone he just met into his problems.

You deserve your new life.

He’s just happy he was able to see a glimpse of it.

That was it. Hope that was good. I'm not trans but I just based it off of what i've seen and maybe how I would feel if I were trans. Hope that works. I don't know why you made yourself anonymous but put your @ but I'll assume maybe it was because you wanted me to tag you so here @77v77

#crocodile x reader #platonic x reader #one piece #crocodile #crocodile one piece #headcanons #anime only #child reader #Crocodile x child reader #ftm reader #trans reader

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wing-ed-thing · 10 months ago

Text

Life of the Party (Niji Vinsmoke x Reader)

Synopsis: An infamous flirt who throws the best parties in town, your charm utterly captivated your favorite guest, Niji Vinsmoke. But at your latest rager, Niji finds that your attention and favoritism aren't exclusive to him.

Word Count: 5k

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Modern AU, Petnames (baby, sweetheart, hotstuff, babe), Reader Flirts with Everyone, Slight!Zoro x Reader, Pretentious Rich (Adult) Kids, Everyone is Shallow and Selfish and Kinda Sucks, Name Calling, Language, Verbal Fights, Alcohol, Suggestive Language

Notes: Maybe I went a little beyond the prompt, but Niji and this MC were such a blast to write I love this setting

The Vinsmoke boys were hardly strangers to a good rager, and when it came to ones that Ichiji would readily, intentionally drag himself out to, your parties were almost always guaranteed his presence. He’d even go as far as to put it in his calendar, for fuck’s sake, and it wasn’t just for the free booze.

As you perked up from the other side of the pool, Ichiji was reminded why he had gone through the trouble of dragging his brothers out in the first place. You made a show of standing up on a sturdy, expensive-looking pool chair as you waved, and to a lack of surprise, you were wearing something that left little to the imagination.

The booze was bottomless, the guest list was always impressive, and all the decor was as high-end as money could buy. Extra, as Yonji had once described it, or perhaps he was describing you. It all accented the modern pool in the center of your yard that easily cost tens of thousands of dollars in and of itself, yet all of it paled compared to the actual reason Ichiji always showed up.

By the time you dismounted and began to run toward them— with little regard for how the colorful drink in your hand was spilling over the edges— Niji had stopped mid-sentence to take his sunglasses off to reveal shining, blue, captivated eyes.

You were the one person who could make Niji shut the fuck up.

“Ichiji, baby.” He leaned to accept the two kisses you placed on his cheeks. He wouldn’t do the same for anyone else, and both of you knew it. You spared a glance just behind the eldest Vinsmoke son before returning your self-satisfied gaze to Ichiji. “Need a babysitter that bad?”

Ichiji let out a reluctant sigh. You could always clock him faster than he expected. He should have known as much; it happened every single time.

“Please just take him.”

“There’s already a drink for you at the bar.” With a wink, you swatted him away with the back of your hand, and it didn’t take much more convincing for Ichiji to wander off.

Niji had been particularly insufferable for the past week, which was saying something considering that regularly insufferable seemed to be Niji’s default state.

When you turned your attention to Yonji, you noticed that he had already taken his shirt off, grabbing it from the back collar to heave over his head and throw somewhere onto the lawn. He donned lime green swim trunks, and his brown sandals were also lost somewhere in the grass. You’d surely find them tomorrow morning and add them to the growing stock of clothes Yonji had already left at your place. He certainly passed out in the guest room enough times.

Yonji barely greeted you with a simple “Hey hot stuff,” leaning down to just brush his lips across your cheek as he bounded toward the pool. You caught something about an inflatable crocodile before you heard a loud splash behind you.

Niji was left grinning from ear to ear as you sauntered toward him, grabbing him by the loose tie he wore and pulling it tight around his throat. You tugged him toward you to plant a kiss on the corner of his lips.

”Hi, Niji.”

Niji was your favorite, and that was something he reveled in every blessed day he had on earth.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You pulled back, still keeping a grip on Niji’s tie. Your bottom thumb swiped along the opposite corner of his mouth to clear away a bit of drool. You had him wrapped all the way around your finger, and if his reactions were any more cartoonishly apparent, you might have seen tiny little hearts in his pretty blue eyes.

His finger hooked around the band of your swimsuit.

“I like this.”

“I thought you might. It’s new; I got it this weekend—”

Niji’s touch recoiled as you led him to the other side of the pool where you had been before, pulling him by his tie. The thin, patterned tie that complimented his casual, sleeveless, black button-down draped nicely over the back of your shoulder, and you continued to play with it as you sat and leaned your side against his chest.

You sat on the cushion of the deep poolside lounge between Niji’s spread thighs with one arm draped over his shoulder. Your legs curled over his left leg. The hand over his shoulder played with his undercut, causing a shiver to go down his back.

“There was this new cafe that opened in Cocoyashi that I was dying to go to, and so, of course, I had to call up Nami because she’s from there, you know. Did you know that Nami grew up in Cocoyashi?” you babbled. Niji nodded along, a scotch neat somehow having found itself in his hand.

“That’s crazy,” Niji hummed, taking a sip.

“And so she’s showing me all these boutiques. Oh! The cafe had this blueberry danish that made me think of you. You have to go and try it…”

You usually rambled on like this, draping yourself over Niji’s arm or placing yourself in his lap to tell him all about the frivolous little treats you had bought yourself since the last time you’d seen each other. You dropped names in every other sentence, many of which Niji didn’t know nor care.

If he was being frank, when it came to your babbling, Niji couldn’t’ve given less of a shit, and if you were anyone else, he would’ve already pushed you off his lap. But you kept a few fingers running through his hair and a drink in his hand, and so, the more Niji drank, the less he cared how chatty you were.

“Niji, have you been working out?” You splayed a hand over his chest, tossing his tie over his shoulder. You knew when you were losing him as well as you knew how to rein him back.

Niji grinned widely, slouching a bit more into the couch with one arm slung over the back cushions and the other around your waist.

“Yeah,” he bragged, a light red tinge on his cheeks. “I’ve been on a cut.”

Niji had the textbook definition of a swimmer’s body. Tall, with a lean, muscular build and broad shoulders, his figure was toned and objectively attractive. A cut, he said with his second glass in his hand. You must’ve been exceptional.

“Wow, really?” you asked, letting your eyes wander as Niji began some tangent about red meat or protein something.

Suddenly, you shot up, nearly causing Niji to jump with you as you let out a boisterous scream before shooting off toward the other end of the lawn. New guests typically parked out front in your massive, circular driveway and let themselves in the main entrance and out the back door to the pool area. You bounded toward the door, just about throwing yourself at the man who had just arrived before he could even step fully onto the lawn.

Yonji resurfaced from under the water, raising his arms to hold the ledge near where Niji had been left. Niji sat at the edge of the couch cushion, elbows over his knees as his leg bounced.

“The hell is that all about?” Yonji asked, not about to see from the pool.

Niji grumbled, pursing his lips inward as he glanced toward you and then back to Yonji with a rude, pointing gesture of his thumb.

“Did you know Roronoa was gonna be here?”

Yonji turned, keeping a hand on the ledge of the pool.

“Oh, shit.”

Niji huffed again. Yonji’s reaction hadn’t exactly been helpful. Niji looked away for a second, and by the time he looked back, the group at the entrance of the yard had multiplied. Niji stood up, storming over to the other side the moment he laid eyes on a familiar cut of blond hair.

“A 2015 Château Margaux, an elegant wine for an elegant host.”

“Aw, Sanji, you shouldn’t have! You’re so sweet.”

Sanji was more than eager to receive the two kisses you offered his cheeks.

Niji passed the one guy who competed in the professional shooting competitions, who was making his way to the pool before nearly colliding with the bigger guy who always hosted barbecues at the beach that Niji never went to. Jesus, the entire crew was here.

Niji glared holes in the back of Sanji’s head, grabbing him by the back collar of his Hawaiian shirt before yanking him back. He disappeared from the group quietly enough, with everyone’s attention captivated by you while you were captivated by everyone else. The life of a host never had its breaks, Niji supposed.

“The hell you think you’re doing here?” It wasn’t the smartest question, but it was the one that left Niji’s lips.

Sanji ripped himself away from his brother’s grasp to face him defensively. Sanji had gone to live with their mother almost ten years ago, and despite Sora’s attempts to build close bonds amongst her children, Sanji hardly spoke to any of his brothers after he turned sixteen. Niji suspected he kept in contact with Reiju, but she’d never tell him and Niji certainly didn’t care. Now, in adulthood, while the Vinsmoke siblings would see each other on occasion, it was almost never purposeful.

“We were invited, dumbass.”

You knew everyone; by extension, everyone was invited to your extravagant parties. Sanji had been to them before, as had other friends you and Sanji shared mutually. They, however, were an uncoordinated bunch and rarely showed up together. Zoro was a rare sighting in and of himself.

“God damn, Zoro, where’d you get these?”

You stood in front of him, weight shifted to your hip. You held the bottle of wine from Sanji cradled in your left elbow while your right hand wrapped around Zoro’s exposed bicep. He wore a sleeveless workout hoodie and dark green basketball shorts. Your hand barely wrapped around half his muscle.

“I dunno. They’re the same size as last time.”

“No way. They’re definitely bigger. Are you gonna get in the pool?”

“Ha! Not with that bar over there, are you kiddin’ me?”

Niji came up behind you, snaking an arm gingerly around your lower back as he leaned in, trying to catch your attention from your peripheral. He made eye contact with Zoro, who immediately frowned at his presence.

The begrudgingly mutual tolerance Zoro appeared to have with Sanji didn’t appear to extend to any of the other Vinsmoke brothers. Yonji occasionally worked out with him, but they were hardly close enough to hang out outside the gym. Zoro glanced Niji up and down before crossing his arms.

Niji’s reputation proceeded him.

“Vinsmoke.”

“Roronoa.”

“Niji, come check out Zoro’s arms. Aren’t they crazy?” You were oblivious to the silent round of ocular fisticuffs that occurred out of your range of sight. Zoro stared Niji straight on, an acutely smug smirk twitching the corner of his mouth. “You must have a killer routine.”

“Kenpō,” Zoro said, popping the “p” sound.

Niji tore his eyes away from Zoro and tugged at the band of your swimsuit.

“C’mon, baby, weren’t we talkin’ about something?” he tried to laugh, trying to fight off the way he was burning up inside. Niji’s barely restrained temper usually got him kicked out of events like these, but he wasn’t about to break one of the only rules you had.

One, don’t break shit. Two, don’t steal shit. Three, no fights.

“Not really.” You shrugged off his touch, much to Niji’s dismay.

He immediately scowled. You didn’t notice, or at least pretended not to. Zoro, on the other hand…

“Hey, man, you got a problem or something?”

Zoro’s arm extended in front of you, making you step back as he pivoted to stand partially between you and Niji. Niji was forced to step back, and for once, he took a second to think carefully as a deep scowl contorted his lips. Well, he thought as carefully as Niji could think.

The usual slouch of his back disappeared as he rose to his full height, squaring his shoulders back. He had a few inches on Zoro in height, even as Zoro stood with his chest puffed out and his arms crossed over his chest. They squared each other up, moving in close before you injected yourself between them. You planted a firm palm in the middle of Zoro’s chest and then Niji’s, having to put a bit of effort into pushing them apart.

“Alright, boys, tone it down with the testosterone. If you’re gonna fight, you’re not doing it here.” You frowned, trying to shoo both of them in different directions. “Grab a drink or something.”

They held heated glares even despite your protests.

“I’m not the one who has the problem here.”

“You white-knighting, Roronoa?”

“God, just kiss already or shut the fuck up!” You snipped at the two of them, turning to scold one away before turning around to dismiss the other. You snapped your fingers before grabbing the bottle of wine you had shoved into Sanji’s arms. “C’mon,” you said to him with a huff. “I wanna open this.”

Sanji gladly followed you inside. Zoro rolled his eyes and made for the bar, and Niji, not one to give up so easily, chased after you, calling your name.

You barely reached the doorway to your house when you stopped, letting your shoulders fall with a dramatic sigh. Sanji was a few steps ahead of you. His mouth opened as Niji continued to pester you, stepping forward to get involved. But you stopped him, once again passing the bottle of wine off to Sanji as you started to get annoyed.

“Sanji, love, be a dear and open this please. I’ll be right over.” You accented your words with a pointed glance Niji’s way.

Sanji was reluctant to back off, glancing between you and his brother before slowly entering the kitchen. The modern, open kitchen was just inside the back door. Nami and Robin were already seated at the island, chatting amongst themselves as they snacked on the ridiculously large charcuterie spread.

You pulled Niji aside.

“What?” you snipped. Niji shifted his weight to his back leg and shoved a hand casually into the pocket of his shorts with a wide grin. He trailed the back of his knuckles along your cheek.

“You know I love it when you get all fiery, baby, but c’mon now—” He glanced toward where Sanji was pouring wine. — “The hell are you hanging out with my loser brother for when we were having such a great time?”

You rolled your eyes. Niji scowled as you pushed his hand away.

“Because you’re being annoying, Niji,” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest with an upturned nose. Niji visibly darkened, shoving his other hand into his empty pocket as he hunched over you. “Maybe don’t act like a freak when I’m just trying to say hi to my friends.”

“Oh, is that what you’re calling feeling up Roronoa?” His voice dropped in tone, but didn’t lose the arrogant attitude. Niji cocked his head to the side, his face growing closer to yours. You blinked in astonishment, lip curling as you recoiled.

“The fuck?” you spat. “Have you seen the way I talk to you and your brothers? With literally everyone here? Or is it because it’s Zoro?” Niji’s expression visibly twitched at the mention of Zoro’s name. His back straightened the slightest bit before he leaned back toward you, arms crossed tightly over his arms.

“It’s different.”

“Literally, how?” You glanced around the corridor you stood in. You weren’t very secluded, but no one appeared to have followed the two of you to check out the commotion. You’d prefer to keep it that way. “Because you don’t have to like everyone I’m friends with. I haven’t seen him in a long time, Niji, so why don’t you shut the fuck up.“

“Hey, watch it,” Niji gritted. He grew closer, and you glanced him up and down with disgust.

“Or what? Are you gonna fuck me up, Niji?” You pushed him back. Niji’s arms unfurled as he almost slammed his back into an adjacent wall. “Are you gonna beat me unconscious because I’ve pissed you off?”

You were getting in his face, and Niji pulled back, pivoting around on his heel with a series of head shakes as he ran a hand over his face. He pointed a finger at you.

“That’s a low fucking blow; that happened when I was a kid, and I never would have told you that if I knew you were going to lord it over my fucking head—”

— “Seventeen is barely a kid!” —

“You’re the one who fucked off to feel up another guy’s tits.” Niji pointed aggressively in the direction of the backward. “So check your bitchy fuckin’ attitude ‘cause I’ve done jack shit.”

“Yonji’s tits are in my hands like every time he’s here, and you’ve never said shit about that, now have you, Niji?” You were screaming at this point, and you wouldn’t have been surprised if you turned a few heads of guests who were enjoying your indoor amenities. You were heated, bursting at the seams with little regard for how ridiculously your fight was devolving.

Niji rolled his pretty blue eyes. They were still pretty, no matter how pissed off you were at him. Maybe you found them pretty because he was your favorite, or perhaps he was your favorite because you found them so pretty.

“That’s because Yonji’s Yonji.”

“He’s got his own fucking drawer here, and you’re getting pressed over nothing! You can’t come here, acting like my boyfriend and starting shit when you don’t do relationships.” You weren’t expecting your words to ring out over the room like they did.

Suddenly, the energy in the atmosphere took a deep plummet, leaving you and Niji face to face. Both your eyes were wide as they stared into each other. You watched as his electric blue irises darted around your face, all the annoyance and rage he wore on his face melting into something resembling shock.

“Neither do you, so what’s your problem?” he asked lowly.

Another beat of silence overtook the space around you as you stepped back. You averted your gaze to somewhere else in the room. Niji continued to study you. You could feel his gaze.

“You know better than to pick fights here, Niji.” You shook your head, running a hand over your hair. But what seemed to mimic resignation didn’t last long as you whipped toward him to raise your voice again. “Now you’ve got me pissed when I thought tonight was going to be fun!”

“I wasn’t the one picking a fight, so you can take that to your boy toy,” Niji’s tone was simmering, deep, and level. His hands were shoved back into his pockets, and his shoulders appeared somewhat relaxed as he assumed his usual posture. A deep scowl was still present on his lips.

You huffed, backing off yourself.

“I’m done talking to you, Niji. Get out.” You turned on your heel and stormed back out into the backyard.

It was the worst fight you had ever gotten into. Hell, it might’ve been the only fight you and Niji had ever gotten into. After all, there had never been much to fight about before. The both of you tended to keep things light. He got to ramble about his petty and frivolous things, and you got to babble about yours. You hadn’t needed to go much deeper.

You were sexy and had more charisma in your pinky than anyone else Niji knew. You kept a drink in his hand. You knew the right spots on his undercut that he liked scratched, and it was something about getting attention from you that had him over the moon.

“How’s it feel being the favorite?” Yonji once asked him.

On the other hand, Niji wasn’t entirely sure why you had picked him out of everyone you knew, and you certainly knew everyone. You spent so much time and money throwing these parties— which you held regularly— yet you always carved out time to pay him some special attention. You always greeted him, gave him all the amenities he could ask for, and sat with him for the better part of the night just talking.

Niji knew of his more infamous reputation. He was nowhere as well-liked as you, and when it came to getting into trouble, Niji had paid his way out of sticky situations more times than he’d counted. He was satisfied with any excuse to throw a punch because when it came to people who mattered, who should he give a shit about anyone but his two brothers and his sister?

And then you came along. You came along with your talk— Niji made it abundantly clear the first night you met that the last thing he was interested in was talk (not when you looked like that, HELLO)— and now, for the first time, Niji worried.

“If you’re gonna be angsty and shit, can you do it somewhere else?”

Niji didn’t realize how far he had sunk into his couch cushion until Ichiji spoke. The ice in Niji’s glass had already melted.

Ichiji turned to him, one leg crossed over the other and a whisky in his hand. A neutral frown plastered across Ichiji’s lips.

“Weren’t you leaving?” he asked.

The couch Niji had found Ichiji sitting on was tucked away on the other side of the yard. A dormant firepit sat in the middle of the semi-circle seating, and the grill wasn’t too far away as a team of professional chefs made food. Seeing this seating area from the pool was difficult, but Niji could see you talking to Zoro again from where he sat.

Ichiji shifted, leaning a bit to the side as he regarded Niji.

“Why don’t you just apologize?"

“Because I didn’t do shit,” Niji snapped. But at the view of the dismayed and stern expression on Ichiji’s face, Nijij immediately simmered. “We got into a fight…”

Ichiji sighed, leaning back against the couch cushion behind him. Despite an equally close relationship with Yonji, at the end of the day, Niji was Ichiji’s ride-or-die. Ichiji wouldn’t hesitate for a second to kill for his brother if it ever came to it, and if there were ever a day Niji showed up at his door with a trash bag and a shovel, Ichiji wouldn’t waste a second grabbing something to dig with from the garage.

However, this didn’t make Niji any less annoying. If there was anything Ichiji found more irritating than Niji yapping dreamily about you, it was undoubtedly him silently pining over you. Niji looked like a kicked puppy, for fuck’s sake. It was unbecoming.

“I’m sure it’ll all blow over by tomorrow morning,” Ichiji said, returning to his whisky. “Go home, shower, order some flowers to be delivered, and make a reservation somewhere nice for tomorrow night. You’ll be fine.”

Niji immediately stood, and it was with a suddenness that communicated to Ichiji that Niji hadn’t absorbed a single thing he’d said. Ichiji’s back straightened as he sat at the edge of the couch cushion.

“Hey, what are you—”

Niji was already making his way over to you. You stood at the side of the pool, standing in a circle with Sanji, Zoro, and some other vaguely familiar faces that generally hung out with that crew. Zoro stood at your side, and Sanji at your other. The pool was directly behind you.

Niji stormed across the yard with purpose and confidence, and the group hardly had time to react to his presence as he cut right through the circle to get to you. It all happened so quickly that the words, “What the fuck, Niji?” didn’t even make it out of your mouth before Niji took your drink from your hand and shoved it at Zoro before hoisting you up to throw you into the pool.

Splash!

The shocked expressions didn’t melt into action fast enough as Niji turned, throwing up both middle fingers before smirking widely.

“Get fucked, Roronoa!” Niji proclaimed before falling backward into the pool where you were just beginning to resurface and gather yourself. The splash he made sent a wave over your head, further drenching your face and hair.

“Niji, you asshole!”

Even fully clothed, Niji made swimming the deep end of the pool look easy, quickly gathering you in his arms before paddling to the opposite side of the pool. The pool was as large as it was expensive, but Niji made short work of the distance, placing you on the ledge of seating that ran across the perimeter. The water lapped at the middle of your ribcage. Niji remained suspended in the deep end, folding his arms over your lap as he gazed up at you.

You raised your hand to slap him, but Niji caught your wrist, pinning it down to your lap as he crossed his arms again.

“Niji!”

“Tell me about shopping with Nami in Cocoyashi,” he hummed, a smug little smile on his lips. You hit the water with your other hand, splashing Niji across the face as he laughed. The stern frown on your lips didn’t falter.

“I thought I told you to get out.” Niji gathered both your hands in his, crossing them over each other to pin them down by his wrists on your lap.

“Well, I decided on more important things,” he said, cocking his head. You rolled your eyes, trying to move your hands. His grip on you was too firm but not enough to hurt. You continued to glare down at him.

“Oh yeah, like pissing me off—”

“I’ve decided that you’re no longer single.”

A solid pang reverberated in your chest. Your lips parted, agape in shock as Niji continued to smirk up at you. He released one of your hands, resting his cheek on his palm. The fingers of his opposite hand were still intertwined with yours.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you spat, narrowing your eyes. The feeling of his thumb swiping over the back of your hand wasn’t lost on you as a warm heat rose under your skin. “Something tells me that that’s something I need to consulted about, genius.”

“Hear me out,” Niji didn’t give you time to respond. You crossed your arms over your chest. “We see each other every weekend, drink, and chit chat… But what if I want to see you more than just every weekend?”

Niji stared up at you with a self-satisfied grin as you waited for him to elaborate.

“That’s it?” you asked. Niji nodded with a victorious hum. “That’s the speech you’re giving to win me over?”

“If you need it in more elementary terms, I like you, and you like me, so let’s do something about it.” He rotated his wrist to intertwine his fingers in yours fully. He continued to snicker, something about his own audacity amusing. You stared him straight on.

“You just wanna smash.”

“Oh, absolutely.” You noted his three-point glance as he looked you over before his gaze drifted to your fingers. He moved your hand as he talked, bringing it behind his head to his undercut. “But I’m not opposed to spoiling you a few times a week either just to call dibs. Buy all the blueberry pastries you want. Little numbers like this’ll be on me, and there’s more where that came from—” He tugged at your swimsuit. — “And I don’t know jack shit about wine, but I can probably pick out a nice one… or pay someone to do it for me.”

Niji was already beginning to run your nails through his hair before you pulled your hand away.

“I’ve got my own money.”

“I know you do, but I also know you’d do something nice with your hair if I gave you a couple hundred for it.” Niji’s grin only grew wider. “Or get yourself dinner somewhere expensive, designer clothes, whatever the fuck you wanna do.”

“And I’m not going to stop hanging out with Zoro either or Sanji just because… I don’t even know what’s going on there.” You scrunched your brow.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Like I said, I’m perfectly fine calling dibs… at least for now.”

Niji left the spot between your knees to swim to the ledge beside you. He pulled himself up to sit, leaving the water in his wake feeling cold. You turned to him, water still dripping down strands of your hair.

“You can’t just throw me in a pool and expect to buy me, Niji. I’m still pissed at you.”

“Yeah, but now you have an excuse to change into whatever evening outfit you had planned.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but for what felt like the umpteenth time that night, you found your voice stalled in your throat as Niji laughed. You did have a nice outfit planned. You always did. You pouted as Niji rose from the pool, dribbling water from his soaked clothes. He offered you a hand, which you reluctantly took.

“You’re gonna have to work hard as hell to make it up to me. I haven’t agreed to any relationship nonsense!”

Niji heaved you up with more force than necessary, catching you as you stumbled over the ledge and onto dry land. Your momentum worked against you, and in what seemed like an instant, Niji planted a kiss right on your lips. He held you for a moment, just long enough for the shock to sink in, before he pulled away with a grin.

Your mind went blank; the apparent look on your face made Niji laugh again.

“C’mon, baby, let’s get changed.” Niji’s arm snaked around you as he guided you back to the house. “Call it a trial run.”

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