lady-z-writes

[lady-z-writes]

Fanfiction writers be like:

"here's the immensely time consuming 100K word novel-length passion project I'm working on between my real life job and family! It eats up hundreds of hours of my one and only life, causes me emotional harm, and I gain basically nothing from it! Also I put it on the internet for free so anyone can read if they want. Hope you love it!" :)

[lady-z-writes]

people who write fics. how do you feel about comments on super old ones you wrote like 2+ years ago

[lady-z-writes]

Forgive me. I don't know what this is. It's been stuck in my head since finishing SOTR. Spoilers ahead...

Haymitch x reader

Mentions of Beetee's fate...

Tw: miscarriage, choking, alcohol abuse mentioned.

...

A dinner party all the victors hated attending. It was like that high school reunion you planned to skip. Only you had no choice but to go.

You're sat beside Beetee and his wife, grateful for the empty seat that allowed you a friendly companion.

The night dragged on.

You'd joined Beetee's wife in the bathroom when you saw the pain shoot across her face.

Beetee shot you an appreciative look across the long dinner table.

You had a horrible feeling.

The sobs hit your ears before you shoved the door open.

And then you were running.

"I'm here. I'm here, what's happening?" You call through the stall door, feeling helpless and desperate.

Two words:

"I'm bleeding."

And you knew. You fucking knew. They got to her. Again.

First Ampert.

Now this sweet baby.

"Get Beetee," she pleads.

But he's already at the door as you're rushing out.

Tears are streaming.

He knows.

Smart man.

Hadn't he figured?

You're fumbling for the door, blocking it so they have privacy to grieve this loss too.

You're holding back sobs as you hear them falling apart.

They're together, at least.

You've bit through your lower lip as you hold the sobs back.

Your hand comes to cover your mouth and you glance around nervously, waiting for someone to come and intervene.

Aren't there cameras everywhere?

You assume so. Even here.

He wants to watch.

The fallout of what he's done.

She'd drank her glass of water.

That had to be it.

What could they have put in it for this to have happened? They have their ways, you know this.

Your eyes catch a sign. A staircase to the roof of this fancy building.

Your feet are moving before you've really processed anything.

You need to be alone.

The air hits you like a cold shower. You're gasping from running and crying.

Life below you continues on. You watch the people, drinking on the streetside bars, laughing together, celebrating life at the Capitol.

All while Beetee's world crumbles once again.

The punishments won't stop.

You don't know how long you're up there, but it begins to rain.

The heavy door slams again, alerting you you're not alone up here anymore.

A shellshocked Haymitch appears; eyes hollow, jaw clenching and unclenching as he tries to find the words.

"She...-" You begin.

"I know."

"Hay..." You start again, voice breaking.

"I know." He steps closer. "Darling, you need to come in."

"I can't," your voice is hard, your expression changing as tears fall. Your voice comes as a harsh whisper, something blazing in your eyes as you say, "I don't know where else to put all this anger."

His eyes soften. He doesn't speak.

You continue, "I'm boiling. Aren't we all? It's there. It's. Always. There. And I'm going to lose it. Soon. I feel it."

"We need you to stay in the game." His words are pointed.

You know him well enough by now to realize that maybe there's more going on behind the scenes than you realize.

All the victors are livid. Year after year, you notice it more.

This moment, you've just let the rage overcome you.

"They'll be looking for us," he says.

Haymitch has stepped closer, taken your hands in his now.

You're boiling still.

"How do you do it? Where do I put all this rage?"

He shakes his head, a long blink. "I don't know." A pause. "How about we start right here?"

He closes the distance between you, places an intense kiss on your lips.

You pull back at first, surprised, worried about someone seeing.

"What else can they do to us? They need us both. Maybe...we can distract each other. Be an...outlet for one another? Until someone catches on? I've...been hanging by a thread. What I'm doing isn't sustainable."

Your body registers this idea before you've fully processed it. Pulling him in again, you kiss him harshly, grip at his stupid jacket, let him mess up your stupid lipstick.

His facial hair prickles at your skin, bringing your focus fully present to this moment, grounding you. You finally feel the chill from the rain, notice your heart beating fast, cling to his warmth.

Your hand comes to his throat, gives gentle pressure - a test - and he growls lowly, pulling you in closer, having enjoyed that a little too much. You can feel him half hard through his pants and it ignites something new in you - a blossom of hope for a new distraction, a new vice, something fun and enjoyable in this cruel setting you've found yourselves in.

It isn't perfect. You aren't destined for each other - some lost loves - and maybe it'll only be a few hookups, but it's better than the nothing you've got now.

He's got a history you only know pieces of, thanks to a few drunken nights he'd weep the name 'Lenore'. You can only imagine. He wasn't a drinker, before. He had a family, before. He probably had a love, before.

Snow's little pawn. Snow's temporary obsession, until the next victor pissed him off. What else could he do to Haymitch?

"Uh uh," he mutters against your lips. "Back here. Focus on this. Only way it's gonna work."

"You're right. You're so right."

If the door hadn't opened, you're sure this would have gone further.

It's Plutarch, looking curious, but not surprised.

"Okay, you two. Party's over. You gotta clear out."

He'd known you were up here. Of course he had. Who else knew?

Haymitch seems comfortable with his eyes on you, doesn't move away so you don't either.

"Give us a minute."

"I'm telling you: you don't have a minute. Unless you wanna broadcast this new fling, I suggest you return to the party."

"Soaking wet?" You challenge.

"Are you?" He smirks, chuckling with innuendo. "Nice job, Haymitch." He laughs, then sobers. "You two took up smoking, didn't wanna ruin the vibe inside. I dunno. Make something up. Just come on!"

You glance at Haymitch, unsure, but he gives your hand a squeeze and mutters a, "We're not finished," before kissing your temple and urging you toward the door.

You're still boiling, but Haymitch as a new distraction could tend to it just long enough to contain it, you think.

[lady-z-writes]

Dr. Octavius x Female Reader

Did anyone ask for this? Absolutely not. Am I obsessed with Alfred Molina with a beard and keep imagining Otto with one? Mhm, for sure. Here's this little brain child that's probably been overdone, but I couldn't get it out of my head. So here's a short little self-indulgent thing.

Summary: You hadn't expected to sleep with Professor Octavius, but you soon find yourself completely engrossed in this partnership. How could you not be infatuated with him? That voice, his brilliance, the way he commands a room, the beard he started growing this semester. You're in deep...and so is he.

The chime rings out from the church down the street and you let out a huff, head thrown back, eyes focusing on the ceiling.

Fifteen minutes. Your next class starts in fifteen minutes and you're teetering on the verge of something magical.

Professor Octavius is gripping at the arms of his office chair, clearly struggling at the moment and judging by the pink tint to his cheeks, you'd assume he's close to climax.

You let out a soft moan as you shift slightly, the new angle putting more sweet pressure on your clit.

Riding Professor Octavius in his office isn't exactly new but you two had planned to get some work done this afternoon. He had papers to grade and you had two chapters to read for your next class - the class that's about to start.

But in the silence, you'd heard his beard make that sweet scratch sound against his hand...and you were staring. When you'd crossed your legs, he knew just what you were doing and he lazily gazed over at you. His expression had been all humored, feigned disinterest. Clearly he held the power in the room. As per usual.

Two could play at that game and before long, you were unbuttoning your top slightly, pretending not to notice the way he stares; the hunger in his eyes....

Which led you here - close to orgasm, perched in his lap, letting his hands trail over your body. Your clothes weren't discarded, just hurriedly pushed aside. It's sloppy and hectic - rushed in a way that you knew all too well - between classes, after hours; offices, cars, lecture hall projector rooms...

It was absolutely delicious, what you two had.

"You're gonna be the end of me..." his voice is muffled as he kisses his way down your chest.

The tingle, eventual sting of his beard leaving marks on you. It's pure pleasure coursing through you. He reaches beneath you, grabs your ass, uses this position as leverage.

The way he's able to be in control, even from beneath you...

"Fuck, sir, so good," you moan. "Just like that."

"Oh, good girl. Couldn't last much longer..." the growl in his voice makes you inhale sharply.

And then you're tumbling into an orgasm, so powerful you have to grip his shoulders so you don't fall off his lap.

It's cute - he still tries to give you an opportunity for him to pull out. as if he hasn't been spilling inside of you for weeks now.

You slide down lower, feel him fill you completely, the pleasure of his tip hitting deep makes you cry out.

And then he's huffing breath after breath against your shoulder, biting where your shirt has slipped down, moaning your name as he cums inside you.

The moments after feel like a dream, feel like you're floating as he pampers you, presses kisses against your forehead, soft touches and gentle nips at your skin.

He helps you back to your chair, swipes the hair from your face.

You're a mess and he places his pocket square between your legs, in a rough attempt to clean up the cum.

The soft touch makes you jump and inhale sharply.

A deep chuckle leaves him, a knowing look appearing on his face.

He leans close, towering over you as he inserts a thick finger into your dripping core.

"I know what you want," he hums. "Do you deserve it?"

You nod hurriedly, almost begging.

In an instant, he's pumping his finger into you, the sloppy sound almost sickening if you weren't so pleased.

You're mentally cursing yourself for sharing this secret with him one drunken night: an orgasm after you're full of his cum feels overwhelmingly good.

Your first night together, you'd figured this out and it was almost embarrassing to share. He'd been in the shower after your romp, you still worked up after sleeping with him for the first time, and you promised to meet him under the scalding water - which you did - but first you feigned sleep and masturbated in his bed.

He'd been so intrigued when you told him this story; covering his mouth with the palm of his hand and shifting in his chair. You later found out that it'd given him an erection, thinking about you touching yourself in his bed without his knowing.

Now it's like a reward for good behavior. He'll assist you - sometimes - but more often than not he wants to watch you please yourself. It gets him back up pretty quickly.

Now, though, you don't have time for things to progress and you can hear the ticking of his office clock reminding you that you need to get across campus with his cum leaking out of you.

Those talented fingers of his take no time to get you right to that edge again.

He cups his hand harsher against your cunt and you're a gasping mess once again for him, the sensations too much.

"That's my girl..." he growls against your ear. "Now clean up. You're late."

[lady-z-writes]

Lmao I posted this back in 2020. Figured this was coming.

Unpopular opinion, maybe?

I adore The Boys and I'm excited that they're probably going to get more viewers because Jensen is a part of it now (and as a Supernatural fan dating back to '05 you know I enjoy Jensen) but, like, can we not push Kripke to have more Supernatural cast members on? I enjoy The Boys without it feeling like a spn reunion show and I think that Misha, et al can flourish in other avenues without being attached at the hip to Jensen.

[lady-z-writes]

Me, since Kripke brought Jensen aboard, figuring the others would follow and totally not surprised by today's announcement...

[lady-z-writes]

Simone de Beauvoir, from a letter to Jean-Paul Sartre, featured in Letters to Sartre

[lady-z-writes]

A siren.

A temptation.

And you're the only one to hear it.

Zoro offers to keep you safe from plunging overboard and things get...heated.

Cw: 🔞 afab, mentions of a history of abuse, kissing, nudity, lap sitting, dirty talk, spanking, oral (you receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, (I see a theme here in my writing...🤙🏻)

On his way to the kitchen, Luffy finds you peering over the deck rail.

Half asleep, he blinks at you.

Weird.

It's 4am.

"Did ya see somethin'?"

It's as if you didn't hear him. There one moment, then you're gone.

The screaming wakes Zoro.

"I can't save her! Guys! Please!"

And Zoro's moving quickly. Captain calls, he answers.

You're overboard, jumped, according to Luffy.

Without blinking, Zoro goes in after you.

He reaches for you in the shadowy water, comes up short.

There's something down there. Something almost pulling you deeper.

He gets to you finally, pure adrenaline pushing him on.

Your nails break skin when you surface.

"Oi, damn it! What the Hell?"

Your eyes are glazed, you're frantic in his arms.

"Please, let me go. They need me."

"Quit talking crazy. Get on the boat."

It's almost a workout strongarming you back up as you fight him. You're so damn determined to go back under, he has to almost restrain you - which is near impossible while treading water.

Finally, Luffy grabs you, pulls you up, starts screaming a lecture at you.

The sun's not up yet.

Zoro climbs aboard again, soaked and annoyed.

With the ruckus, the whole crew's on deck now. Zoro seeks the eye of Chopper.

"Look her over, would ya? Something's not right."

You're fighting Luffy as well, Zoro stripping from his wet shirt and ringing it out as he observes.

How odd.

Luffy tightens his grip. "Damn it. Stop. I don't wanna hurt you, okay?"

Chopper examines your eyes first, notices the glazed over pupils.

"Oh, shit..." His hooves grab your hands, turn your palms up.

A mark. A single red mark, but a symbol.

The crew steps forward, eager to know what woke them so early.

Usopp flails, falls to the deck.

"Oh no! It's real! Everybody inside. Panic!!"

"What the Hell is that?" Franky speaks first.

"It's the mark of a siren. She must've been on deck," Chopper informs the crew.

"Now that you mention it, I had heard a story about these waters, but it just sounded like some old pirate ghost story. No way!" Nami gasps.

"Luffy, bring her into the infirmary. We need to tie her down." Chopper demands.

"Right!"

Usopp pulls some wrap put of his pocket, makes quick work of tying your wrists.

Zoro stills.

He knows your history. Knows how they found you.

"Wouldn't that be a bit inhumane?"

Chopper's lips purse. The crew stills, eyes downcast as they remember your first encounter. The rope burns. The agony.

Zoro just remembers your eyes; how you pleaded for help.

He could save anyone - but the horrors done to you by that monster that called himself a man - those memories stay. Nothing could be done about that.

"We don't have another option," comes Chopper's voice.

"I've got her."

The doctor hums at Zoro, looks away.

"Fine. Your way first. But, if not, we need to tie her up until we're through these waters."

You're thrashing still, tearful and begging to get the ties off your wrists.

When Zoro steps in your view, the fog clears for a bit.

His calloused hands untie the restraints. Your gaze is glued to the movement, trails up his forearms, then to his face as he steadies you.

He almost thinks he sees a flash of something in your eyes, but it's gone again.

"I'm taking her to the crow's nest. Far enough away from the water."

The crew doesn't argue. Maybe they're too tired.

"Make her something to eat," Luffy demands. "That'll fix her right up!"

If only.

"I'll look through some of my books I got at the last port. Maybe I'll find something useful," Chopper suggests.

It's going to be a long day.

---

"Oi, just quit your thrashing. You're impossible."

He's got one big arm around you, his other lifting a large barbell.

The Hell you're going to disrupt his plans for the day.

He'd trusted you to sit and wait for him to get a workout in, but the second you were out of his grasp, you were booking it for the deck.

And he refuses to fail.

Refuses to let them tie you down.

Or worse - that damned cook be tasked with guarding you.

So you're sat in his lap for now.

---

"Can I please just shower? I smell like seawater and your sweat."

He's blushing.

"Now how are we going to do that?"

"I don't know! You need one, too! You stink."

Eyebrows furrowed, he frowns, a slight growl at his next exhale.

"Fine."

...

Back turned as he sits on the ledge of the tub, he huffs a breath as he hears you bathing behind him.

"How do I know you're not gonna drown yourself or something?"

Could sirens take you in any water? He didn't want to ask.

At his words, you pause. And then he feels your small hand slip between his calloused fingers.

You finish bathing this way.

He's silent the rest of the afternoon.

---

"Distract me."

It's a lucid moment for you. As the night draws near, you've gotten antsy. He's had to rest you in his lap again, hold you back periodically.

It's like you're hearing someone calling you in the silence.

It's eerie.

The others have left you alone, as if it's contagious or something.

"Hm? What'd'ya mean?"

"Please, Zoro."

And he'd do anything to stop this; can see you're suffering.

"The sun's about to set. Please. One more night, it's all I need to get through. I'm scared."

"...Okay."

You shift in his lap. He allows it.

"What do we do?"

Your eyes travel down to his lips then back up.

Oh.

Oh.

"I just need my mind elsewhere."

Your hands trail down his chest. His sharp inhale urges you on

"Mhm."

You slide your leg over, straddle him now.

"Just a small distraction."

"It's not small," is his response.

Your gaze flicks up again and he sees a hunger in you like he's never seen before.

"This alright?" He asks, his fingers grazing your hip.

"Mhm."

"And this?" Hands trail up your torso, lifting the hem of your shirt.

"Yes."

He pulls it off and tosses the shirt, then leans toward your neck.

"This, too?" His voice is low, the moment more intimate than ever.

All that time with you fussing around in his lap today, he's a bit worked up, though he won't admit it.

You needed some help, and he was there to give it.

He captures your lips in seconds, feels you arch toward him.

His hands trace up your back, dragging chill bumps with them.

"Get this damn thing off," he mutters against your lips, fingers fidgeting with the clasp of your bra.

In one fluid movement, the bra drops to the floor.

Without warning, you grind your hips, eliciting a moan from him.

He's hard.

He feels huge, you think.

The chemistry between you is palpable.

"Distraction, huh?" He mutters. "Okay." He shifts his weight, tackling you to the floor. Your back hits as you exhale sharply. Zoro takes in your topless form, strips off his shirt, then returns to hover his body over yours.

His greedy mouth traces across your skin, hesitating before twirling his tongue around your left nipple, a hand groping your right breast; just a pause before he continues down your torso

He snakes his fingers under the waistband of your pants, shoves them down and off. You catch a slight smirk before he drags his teeth over your skin, begins pulling your panties down with his mouth.

"A distraction, I can do," he speaks against your skin.

You raise your hips when he kisses between your legs; already so sensitive for him.

And Zoro eats you out like he's a starved man. He listens for every hitch of breath, every whispered prompt, every twitch of muscles until you're cumming all over his tongue.

He's straining against his pants, cock leaking as he anticipates what's next.

You look so satisfied, blissed out on the wood floor - glazed look different from the one he saw earlier.

Thumb still pressed against your clit, he gazes up at you.

"Think you're ready for me?"

Mouth agape, you almost look combative, so he starts rubbing slow circles with his thumb.

You're speechless - which is a feat, he thinks.

When he stands, you get a good view of his tented pants.

Towering over you, pointed gaze, you see his jaw clench.

"Up," he demands.

You feel exposed, sprawled out on the floor like this.

Without him touching you, that glazed look returns and he watches your attention snap to the ladder.

He grips your hand, pulls you from your daze. Zoro guides you to the bench seats.

"Bend," he commands.

You do without a second thought.

He enjoys that you obey.

Good.

When you hear him step out of his pants, you gaze behind you, desperate to catch a glimpse.

"What, are you worried?" He chuckles. "I'll take care of you."

He grabs a handful of your ass in one hand, smacks the other cheek with his other.

Fingers find your clit again, a whisper of a touch until he's burying his fingers inside of you.

You whimper, almost begging for something else.

"Settle down," he demands, voice monotone.

"Sorry," you whisper. "Just want you."

That humors him. "I know." He slips his fingers out, slides his cock between your folds. You moan at the sensation. "We've gotta keep you occupied all night, remember?"

He punctuates the sentence with a smooth thrust into you, the foreplay allowing you to take him really well. He's impressed.

When he's fully in you, he leans his head back and groans. His balls tighten at the sensation, but he takes a breath and starts a slow pace, making sure you feel every inch of him.

Holding onto the back of the bench seat, you roll your hips back against him.

And, fuck, if he isn't mesmerized by how you look together.

His grip on your hips tightens before he smacks your ass once, twice.

Bending himself over your back, he places his hands on top of yours and ruts harshly into you.

You feel protected, safe, treasured for the first time in a long time.

He's hitting a spot inside of you that's driving you crazy.

Zoro doesn't stop this pace until he feels you tightening around him. A low hum meets your ears, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"That's it. Make a mess of me."

You couldn't fight it if you tried.

You come with a moan of his name.

"My turn," Zoro grunts, plopping down in the bench seat, you two still connected. He lifts you with ease, making you rise and fall on his cock at the speed he desires.

Your head leans back against his shoulder so he nips at your neck. The deep thrusting makes him slow down, enjoy.

His hands wander, fondling your breasts as he fucks you.

You arch back, grab at his hair, try to catch his lips to kiss him.

He's silent, focused, taunting and teasing long gone which you can only assume means one thing.

"Where do you want to cum?" You ask.

A few soft huffed breaths leave him.

"What makes you think I'm close?"

You smile at this, rock back against him.

"Just a hunch."

When you yank his hair, he lets out a moan, purses his lips.

"You want to fill me, don't you?" You taunt. "Watch it drip out of me, so full of you..."

Your words seem to be doing something to him, though he remains silent.

He's letting you take the lead on the pace, though his hands grip your hips now, guiding you on.

Grinding back against him, you lace your fingers between his, move your hands between your legs, feel him there on your clit.

When your free hand, you lightly touch his balls as he fucks up into you.

A choked moan leaves him at the sensation.

"For fuck's sake," he scolds. "Gonna cum in you."

"In me, on my tits, up to you..." You laugh.

The thought of his cum dripping out of you - of someone catching you in this position right now - sends him over the edge.

He buries his face in your neck, pants out a moan as you feel him spilling inside of you.

You sigh, leaning back against him, and running your fingers through his hair.

"Gonna need that about five more times tonight, swordsman."

He chuckles. "Is that all?" He breathes deeply, content. "Bet ya can't keep up."

You're instantly up, turning to straddle him. Your hands trail over his abs, making his cock twitch to life again.

When your grip settles on his biceps, you catch his lips in a deep kiss.

"Try me."

---

The crew had agreed to sail through the night.

They'll assume Zoro's naps today are because he stayed up all night watching you.

Which...they're not wrong.

He watched you ride his cock.

He watched you pleasure yourself while he worked out.

He watched you get on your knees for him, swallow him down.

He watched you start to nod off in his arms as he fucked you for the fourth time.

"Knew you couldn't take it," he taunted, stroking his fingers down your cheek.

"Not sleeping, just enjoying," you insisted, but your voice was laced with exhaustion. "Almost sunrise."

He hummed. "Good excuse to get some alone time."

"At the mercy of a siren's song. Nice, Zoro..." You rolled your eyes.

"Not used to this, but it turns out, it's a great outlet between battles."

You laugh. "Odd. You're so odd."

"I could stop," he teases.

"You could not," you whine.

---

Sunrise.

You're sound asleep on the floor as Zoro finishes another workout.

He watches the light on the water, hears someone climbing up the ladder.

You're in his shirt, but Chopper doesn't say anything.

"How is she?" He whispers.

"She's fine," he assures with a yawn, does another rep. "I took good care of her."

"Good," Chopper nods, unaware of his meaning. "Those sirens can be nasty."

"Mhm. Real nasty."

"Let her sleep. I'll have Sanji bring you guys some food."

The cook would know immediately what happened here.

"I'll bring her down when she's ready. Tell Sanji he's on call."

With a nod, the doctor descends the ladder and Zoro watches you with tired eyes.

Hell of a night, that was for sure.

He checks your palms, the siren's mark fading as the sun comes in.

Gone like a dream, but what a dream it was.

[lady-z-writes]

Butcher x you

In which Butcher is exhausted, and you suggest a good lay will help 😏

Cw: spanking, language, biting, unprotected sex.

"You look like shit," MM is the first to speak up and Butcher bristles at the comment.

"Big thanks to ya."

"Looks like you haven't slept," Hughie pipes up.

This just earns a glare.

"Have you tried melatonin?"

Butcher just grunts at Annie's suggestion.

"Or booze?" Frenchie pipes up.

"Or sex?" You throw out.

This stops him in his tracks.

Butcher raises an eyebrow at you before waving it off.

"Few nights 'a rough sleep and you lot are just a parade of fuckin' suggestions, huh? M'alright. Sheesh. Let's focus here, yeah?"

The rest of the day goes smooth- but you swear you catch Butcher eyeing you a time or two.

It stirs something in you.

---

Lights out, everyone's going home. Butcher still sits at his desk, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose.

You approach slowly, like he's a wounded animal.

"You alright?" You ask softly.

"M'alright," he nods, voice deep with exhaustion.

"I was serious, you know? About the sex. Works wonders."

He looks at you, then just beyond you to where the others are leaving. He lets himself give you a once-over.

"Oh, yeah? You offering?" The comment is soft spoken, you almost wonder if you're imagining things.

But he's standing now, towering over you, his presence igniting that desire in you once more. You've fought this for a long time.

You purse your lips, shrug.

"And if so?"

He tsks his tongue. "Dangerous territory you're stepping in, little dove. Very damning."

"I'm just trying to help," you tease, step closer, feeling bold.

"Ah, s'that it?"

You're toe-to-toe now, staring up at him under your lashes.

You bite your lower lip and he watches with hungry eyes and a soft groan. You practically feel the rumble with how close you're standing.

"If not..." you hum with a shrug, about to spin on your heels to leave.

He grabs your arm roughly.

A blink.

A smirk.

And you're pulling his shirt collar, angling up on your toes, crashing his mouth onto yours.

A low groan leaves him and the noise sends chills through you.

Before you realize, he's picking you up, carrying you to the chair, sitting down and letting you straddle him.

His mouth is on your neck and you're squirming a bit at the sensation of his facial hair on you. You feel his erection against you and a wave of confidence jolts through you.

His kisses move to your mouth again. You can't help but moan, grinding against him.

You make quick work of unbuckling and unzipping him. His warm, hard cock in your hand, you feel powerful as you give him a deep stroke.

You think of sucking him off, but it's as if he reads your mind and shifts your hips to press his tip against your opening. He shifts your panties to the side and begins easing into you.

He takes his time, lets you get comfortable before he starts manhandling you. Even though you're in his lap, he's completely in control - adjusting you, hands on your ass and guiding your speed.

It's maddening.

But so, so good.

He's all hands - all growls and deep groans. He leans back, head against the cushion, neck exposed so you pepper kisses and bites all over him.

"Y'wanted this, hm? Riding my cock. Don't think I'm oblivious, love. Gimme some credit. See you crossin' them pretty legs so tight under your desk. I see the way you wanted this."

You nod against his skin, shift your hips to get a deeper grind.

"Biding my time," you agree. "Wanted you so fucking much."

"Mmm...good girl."

The first time you cum, you're in his lap. After that, he still doesn't let you have any control.

He's shoving you up, pressing you back against the couch, spreading your legs again.

You let your hands wander, touch him as much as you're allowed before this whole thing ends and he changes his mind.

He groans when you dig your nails in, spanks you and squeezes your ass so tight you can't help but hiccup a breath.

"Won't be done with you after this," he admits when you notice his thrusts slowing. "Gonna need to revisit."

"Don't go getting my hopes up, Butch," you laugh. "This is what dreams are made of."

"You're damn right. Fucking diabolical."

He ends up coming on your stomach, a breathy moan leaving him as he strokes his cock over you.

Satisfied but so not, you watch him toss a few tissues your way.

"Clean up. We're heading to my place."

You're stunned - even when you're dressed and in his car.

This night...took a turn for the better.

Even better when you're pressed against the shower wall, soap dripping from you both as he kisses and fucks you again.

The hunger for each other calms down a bit when you're dressed in his shirt, laying beside him under the bedsheets.

Your leg draped over him, you press tender kisses to his bare shoulder. The exhaustion hits him quickly once he settles in.

"Now how's about you do me a favor and ride me again, lovey? Nice an' slow."

Of course, you oblige.

Tender kisses and slow thrusts, he's gripping at you, humming filthy things, and enjoying the view. One powerful orgasm later, he's spent.

You never expected him to let you stay. But, he really didn't have much time to kick you out between when you flopped next to him and when he was finally sleeping.

You'll deal with it in the morning, you figure.

Until then, you pull the covers up, shut off the lights, and snuggle into him.

[lady-z-writes]

booktok did ruin a lot of romance novels bc of the demand for instant gratification but culturally it is kind of a slay that so many young women are just reading smut and masturbating all day #respect

[lady-z-writes]

this is the sickest fucking burn hdwndkd

[lady-z-writes]

THE BOYS 4x01 'Department of Dirty Tricks'

[lady-z-writes]

Made a new side-blog to house my One Piece obsession.

(Since I'm clearly not done with Franky 🤒 -- or Zoro, for that matter...)

Give it a follow, if that's your thing:

@superfreakfranky

[lady-z-writes]

Apparently, I can't get him out of my head.

Here's more Franky x reader

Saw some filler episode about Spa Island and...yeah...here we are.

Cw: swearing, some alcohol mention, flirting, soft touching. Nothing heavy for this one 😉

~~~~~~~

Franky raises a brow, eyes fixed on you behind his glasses.

You're stunning, he's decided.

Bathing suit cover just barely concealing all the places he'd like to ogle at. Your hair is up (perfect for him to yank at while he pulls you in, kisses your neck, trails down to your...-)

"Hey, Franky, what's the hold up?" Usopp calls out. "You getting more drinks or what?"

"On it, bro! Cool it!"

While he waits at the bar for the drinks, he stares down at the counter, sighs, gives himself a mental peptalk to get it together.

But then he feels something soft on his arm. A fleeting moment. A touch, just one touch.

"This seat taken?" Your voice sounds beside him.

He bites down a crude comment, convinces himself it's best not to say "My lap or my face?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

His eyes widen behind his shades. Oh. Shit.

Cautiously glancing beside him, he tries to gauge your reaction.

You give none, only hoisting yourself up on the barstool and ordering a drink.

The silence between you is killing him, but he's convinced he'd say some stupid shit.

"Are you-" You're cut off when a voice screeches his name.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, not again..." he grumbles.

A woman jogs over to the bar, smiling sweetly at Franky.

"You can't get away from me so easy!" She says, "what? You left me at the swim-up bar to come to this one? Such a big guy like you, of course I'd find you again. Can't get away that easily."

"Ha! Yeah, just...uh...like this view a little better."

Always the respectful one, though you notice his annoyance behind the shades.

Your drink comes before Usopp's fruity fishbowl.

"You left my room key on the bar back there. I figured I'd bring it over," the lady says.

The discomfort he's feeling is evident to you.

A beat passes. He's still staring at Usopp's drink being prepared.

"Babe," you stand, grab your drink. "When you get our next round, would you mind lotioning my back for me?"

He stares, dumbfounded.

You loop your arm through his, nuzzle into his side gently - clingy but not too - then tussle his hair.

"Oh, sure thing."

"Thanks, honey."

With a wink, you take your drink over to a lounge chair.

Calm breaths. Calm.

He bites back a growl at the way that made him feel. How protective you were, how easily you read him, despite only knowing him for a short while, how smooth that had been, not vicious at all.

"You didn't tell me you were with someone," the woman smacks the key card on the bar, pulls it away. "Creep."

He's alone in seconds, drinks finally arrived.

Paying and getting the guts to turn around, he almost trips over Usopp approaching quick.

"Ohh yeah! Thanks, Franky!" with a laugh he takes the drink over to Luffy and Chopper.

Breathing and playing it cool, Franky takes his own drink toward you at the lounge chairs.

You removed the swim cover, are now just in your bathing suit.

Fuck.

He scratches the back of his neck.

"Hey. Uh...thanks...for that."

You smile at him, set your drink on the table beside you, then grab sunlotion.

His stomach drops.

"Pony up," you hold it out to him. He smirks, takes the lotion, watches you snag his drink to sip it then place it beside yours.

Bold.

"This seat taken?" He quips, repeating your words as he sits on the edge of the chair, watches you roll onto your front.

He lets his eyes wander behind his shades.

That perfect ass of yours.

His large hands lotioning your back, he swears he hears a soft moan from you.

"You sure had her attention, Franks"

He chuckles at the nickname. "That's a hell no from me, darlin'."

"She was pretty."

"Yeah."

You look at him. "Not interested?"

He's blushing. "Nah, nothing like that."

"Not your type?"

"Not really."

"Then...what do you like?"

"You." He freezes a moment. "I-I mean...uhh you...know I don't have time for that."

You smirk slightly, scrunch up your nose, look away to see how close the others are.

"You want to make time for it?"

His eyes widen.

"Thought you'd never ask."

[lady-z-writes]

Franky x reader

@lofaewrites - I'm screaming. This crush is embarrassing- sos!

Cw: 18+, pure spice, afab reader, oral (both receiving), sex, hair pulling, light fluff at the end.

Inspired by this:

When he whispers against your neck, "can I be yours in the morning?" a shiver overcomes you.

You'd been doing this...fling...for weeks now.

The crew completely unaware, as Franky was a night owl and once you stumbled his way one night, you never looked back.

His company, his humor, his whole vibe was what got you.

And now you craved time with him.

It started as something innocent, just company keeping in the early hours of morning when the sea was eerily quiet and your mind made up all kinds of enemies emerging from the dark.

Franky oh-so-kindly offered to sweep you off deck, bring you into his workshop, "lemme teach you a thing or two."

He'd meant building things, you knew this. Yet, your mind wandered.

'Using your hands' meant building.

Not admiring his body. Not tracing your fingertips up his forearms and to his chest.

You'd asked first, of course.

And when he gave you an, "uhhh sure?" It had been so hesitant.

But you found him fascinating.

And when he felt you touching him, you noticed him hold his breath.

"Keep touching like that, sweet thing, I'll be getting the wrong idea."

Your eyes met.

A beat passed.

You raised a brow.

He smirked.

"Ah, I see. It's like that, then."

And he dipped down to kiss you.

Sweet, hesitant at first, but once you leaned into him, his kisses were more passionate.

He scoops you up easily, holds you against him, then backs down into the chair at his desk.

You're flustered, hesitant, unsure of yourself as he holds you steady.

"I'm so sorry," you press your palms to his chest. "I shouldn't have-...I...I can..."

You feel yourself heating up, embarrassed to find yourself in this position with him.

"You can go, if you want," his hands rest behind his head. "If I had a choice, you'd stay." And you're so sat. "Considering you're still touching me, I'll take that as my answer."

You slip your palms off him, gnaw at your lower lip.

"Sorry."

"You don't have to stop," he speaks quietly to you. "Feels nice being touched," his voice trails off but you hear him finish with, "by you."

A chill runs through you.

"Where can I touch?"

He lets out a low hum. "Where do you want to touch?"

"Everywhere," the answer comes out before you filter it through your anxious mind.

Franky is humored and a little turned on.

So begins your wandering hands.

He's got his fists clenched behind him, trying to let you explore, but it's killing him not touching you too.

Had he ever felt like this? Like someone was worshiping him?

He finds his head lolling back at the calm that's settled between you two, at how you're almost massaging his skin as you travel down.

And then it all halts. He snaps his head forward, sunglasses falling from his head to his nose, where he stares over the frames. His attention on you, eyes wide as he spots you on your knees between his legs.

He's hard.

He's been hard.

"May I?" you ask, hands returning to his thighs.

He raises his glasses again.

And so starts this whole...thing.

Er...kind of.

It didn't help that Usopp happened to be awake at the time and ends up knocking on the door shortly after you had your mouth full.

Surely didn't help that he shoved a crate of blueprints beside the desk to hide you as he urged you under.

You barely kept it together as Usopp descended the steps, chatting about a new invention he wanted Franky's help on.

The conversation was more frantic than normal, but Franky played it cool - as always.

"Yeah, sure, bro, I can help you in the morning. These late nights are gonna be the death of me."

"It's that late?! I haven't been out of my factory since dinner!" suddenly Usopp's footsteps are heard retreating as he yelps out a, "thanks!"

Seconds pass before the chair is shoved back and Franky eyes you from your position on the floor.

He gives you a long look before hoisting you up and setting you back on the drawing desk.

"Come here."

His kisses are hurried, passionate, longing.

"Oh, man, if I don't feel you soon, I might combust," he huffs out against your lips.

"Now would be good, then," you laugh, let him remove your top, feel his soft kisses across your chest before he dips a finger lower between your bodies, plays with your clit.

You're unraveling against him, begging for more, which he gives you.

He makes quick work of ripping your panties and pants, pulling himself out of his swimsuit, and stroking his length along your wetness.

The ringing in your ears intensifies as he takes his time easing inside of you, careful not to hurt you.

You figured he'd be a gentle lover. Yes, you'd pictured it before this meeting. A crush had formed shortly after he joined the crew.

"All good?" He hums against your ear.

All you can do is nod, grip his open shirt, and moan against his chest as he starts a rhythm.

His big hands holding you close, helping you along, you feel yourself let go of all the uncertainty.

It's freeing.

He says he won't last long, keeps apologizing mid-kiss, but he manages to get you off once before he's stuttering to pull out and spill all over the floor.

His head bowed, you lift his chin with your open hand, pull him into you again, shivering into another needy kiss.

He's shouldering off his shirt, draping it over you as you run your fingers through his hair.

When you're steady on your feet again, he's cleaned up his floor, eyeing you from the ground this time, half hard when he sees you buttoned up in his shirt, ripped panties on the desk.

A hungry look crosses his face as he sits you in the chair this time, spreads your knees apart, and kisses up your thighs.

It's tantalizing what his tongue can do.

"Sorry, I'm starving " he jokes, then returns to his work.

He listens to every noise you make - from the soft moans to the breathy inhales. It urges him on when you pull his hair, guide him in further.

When he gets you off with just his mouth, his deep chuckle makes goosebumps cover your skin.

It's late...er...early by the time you two are done that first night together.

He wants you in his bed, but won't risk the others noticing.

The second night feels like a reunion and he'd found himself so damn eager for it all day.

The third time, he happens to meet you in the bathhouse for a steamy bath.

And on and on the nights go. He's exhausted but so content.

It's fun, this little secret. The hiding it from the crew adds to it, in your mind.

You enjoy the little glances over breakfast, or the soft touches if you pass each other on deck.

So when he mutters, "can I be yours in the morning?"

You're so caught up in him, so consumed, you can't say no.

That next morning, the shirt you'd stolen from him looks good over your bikini.

You descend the stairs of Sunny, softly smiling at the stares from Nami and Usopp.

Some of the guys are in the kitchen and you're dying for a cup of coffee.

Sanji's eager to serve you, his attention first drawn to the bikini top. At second glance, he spots Franky's shirt.

"Hey, is that...-"

Before he can finish the thought, he watches you slide onto Franky's lap, sipping your coffee before his big arms surround you.

"No fair!!" Sanji's cry is heard on deck.

"It's super, isn't it?" Franky chuckles.

A soft kiss on your cheek, you can't help but laugh at the happiness that's found you.

[lady-z-writes]

Fun Story to Share.

I got my (now 18-year-old) daughter into Ao3 back in 2021. I taught her she should always comment - even if the fic looks old or abandoned or whatever. She did.

Well - she got this email this morning:

The fic was written in 2014 and essentially abandoned.

Bethy read and reviewed in 2021 (and was actually the only person who had commented at all).

Today in 2025 - the final chapter was posted by the author and this was her reply to Bethy’s comment.

———

Never question whether a fic is too old to comment on.

[lady-z-writes]

Yes, but, a dude letting you storm into the room and just let the emotion out.

Like, it starts out with that overwhelming, chest-tightening feeling that emotion is consuming you, but ends with him letting you ride his thigh.

Him letting you pull his hair and scratch down his biceps while you come.

Nothing to hurt him, necessarily, no.

Just to let go, to get it all out.

Like him being so okay with you directing him, informing him on what you need.

"Yes, honey."

And, "what else?"

All while he's trying not to cream his fucking pants; the precum spot sending you into overdrive.

Him realizing you've been keeping so much in lately and it's all too much and you're going to implode if you don't just get out of your fucking head for a little bit.

Letting you request oral - and, like, not that shit you did with your last partner where you fucking pretended to come just to make them feel better - no - he's going down on you until that tingling sensation goes away and you actually fucking get off.

And then not wanting you to fuck him unless you really want to.

Which, after you realize this is the only time in the last few weeks that you've stopped overthinking, of course you want another orgasm. And being vulnerable with another person feels damn good right now. Feels like rebirth.

And he's so fucking ready for you. Is so receptive to your needs, listens to your breathing to know what you liked, talks you through it.

When it's done, you feel bliss. Your mind not so clogged. Your chest not so tight. Your breathing not so tense.

We could all use a little of that lately, now couldn't we?

And he'll tell you how good you are and how proud he is and suggest that you eat because your body needs it. He brings you water and cleans you up and suggests you both scream at the stars a little tonight, and it feels a bit like healing.