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theaceofflamesposts · 5 months ago

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this was my reward to myself after much stress

and it was worth it

pls excuse me while i go reread and wish feebly that i could have them for real

Quin's Terrible Two's

Here we are at the back half of the Tumblrversary event \o/ Some polls are closed, Some Are Still Going (go vote!)

The votes have been counted, the results have been assessed! Now it's time for What Happens Because of All of That <3

So without further ado -- /hands the results of the poll off to Thatch, who already seems to have things well in hand./

Izou's Domination

CW: One dom/two subs, shibari, bondage, orgasm denial, tickling, power play, mentions of established polycule, mentions of deep throating, mdni

Izou crushes the results delicately between his fingers, turning the paper into a crumpled ball before looking down at you.

“Open.” He commands, and you open your mouth.

Your arms are tied behind your back, and a delicate network of ropes hug your skin in floral patterns. Izou has already spent hours with you, tying you into the decorative shibari. He caught wind of you and Thatch’s plans to “prank” him and ended up several steps ahead of the both of you.

Slick from between your thighs has already stained the ropes down your legs, and your ass was already red because of it. Izou had said that a little brat like you had no place enjoying being tied up, and since you obviously were enjoying it, he needed to correct that. But the spanking only made you mewl more whorishly, so then he purposefully edged you while finishing the rest of the tie.

Your face was puffy and swollen, stained from tears after begging to be allowed to cum, but Izou was not one who bent to others.

“Drop it and I’ll ask Marco to edge you for the next five days.” He explains, his fingers keeping your mouth open. “And if you close your lips, it’ll be worse, my darling little flower. Do you understand?”

You nod your head. Izou walks you over to the large, heavy, dining table in the mess hall that Thatch is currently tied down to. The large man is covered in splatters of dried wax, soft red welts on the insides of his thighs from Izou’s hand - earned because he came without permission while Izou had held your head down onto his pubes, forcing you to deep throat him.

The prank you had in mind wasn’t even that bad, and was truly harmless, but Izou said it didn’t matter. The fact was you’d both agreed to prank him at all, and as your dom he wasn’t going to stand for it. This was a lesson he wanted to be sure you learned exceptionally well.

All six hours before the results of the poll were even handed to him.

Izou helps you up onto the table, steadying you as you straddle Thatch. The big cook whimpers when your wet pussy settles against his cock.

“Once you get all of him inside you,” Izou says, still helping you as you coat Thatch’s cock in your slick. “Stay still.”

“’Ock warh-ing?” You question awkwardly, trying to neither crush the paper ball in your mouth, nor drop it.

“Sure, cock warming, we’ll go with that.” Izou agrees, and Thatch groans.

It barely takes a minute for Thatch to be fully erect beneath you, and just a moment after that for you to work yourself down onto his length. As Izou’s beautiful little flowers, you and Thatch were used to being tangled up in one another in all sorts of ways, but it didn’t make Thatch’s impressive girth any smaller. The sweet stretch almost makes you moan, but you beat the pleasurable sound down.

Izou moves around you easily once you’re in place. He ties your ankles to Thatch’s thighs so that there’s almost no way for you to get off the cook’s cock on your own. After that he puts clamps on your nipples, and Thatchs’, connecting the clips with thin ropes. The tension forces you to lean forward a little, pressing your throbbing and needy clit into Thatch’s rough patch.

The incessant twinge of pain from the clamps is making you even more aware of Thatch’s cock twitching inside your stuff cunt.

“Perfect.” He hums, the ropes and table creaking a little when Thatch shifts a bit to relieve some of the tension building in his muscles. Izou himself was careful not to push either of you too far, and he was skilled at getting you out of predicaments very quickly.

But there was also nothing on the ship that could easily hold Thatch, either, so he was effectively a second layer of safety in the group. Not that anyone wanted to break the bench style table, but if it was a matter of it or your safety, Thatch wouldn’t hesitate.

Izou moves until he’s knelt behind you, settled between Thatch’s spread legs.

“The rules are simple. Whoever cums first will spend the rest of the week being edged and denied.” He explains simply. “I’ll press the whole ship into service if I need to, so accept your fate.” He adds icily, and you and Thatch don’t doubt his words.

“The one who holds out will be treated sweetly for the rest of the week, no matter what they do to the loser, so keep that in mind too.” He hums, walking his fingers lightly up Thatch’s legs until he reaches the soles of your feet.

You tense at the light touch, trying not to jerk. If you buck too much you’ll tug at you and Thatch’s nipples. Thatch can’t hurt you accidentally, he’s too well secured to the table. You’re only well secured to Thatch.

The crumpled paper against your tongue reminds you not to close your mouth as Izou’s fingers dance against your feet. The soft tingle builds and turns more and more into a ticklish sensation - a sensation that makes your body tense, and causes your pussy to clench against Thatch’s cock.

Thatch groans, understanding sinking in as you start to twitch and shiver.

“Ari,” you squeak, trying to apologize to Thatch without being able to speak properly. “Ari!” You gasp the odd apology, as Izou really begins to tickle your feet, making you clench and jerk. You can’t even babble the broken ‘sorry’ from your lips as the laughter bubbles up in your chest.

If you laugh you might drop the paper, or close your mouth, so instead you end up whimpering and gasping. Squeaky pleas for mercy replace the broken sorries falling from your tongue. The first time Izou grabs your waist you jerk and pull on the clamps, making Thatch buck. His hips push him deeper inside of you, grinding against your clit.

You can’t scream, or laugh, you’ll drop the paper, but your body can’t contain the ticklish touch of Izou’s deft fingers, and so your body jerks, wiggles and and rides Thatch’s cock. Every pleasure bites into both of you, but you’re the only one getting tickled.

Thatch is ticklish, you know he is, you’ve seen Marco lock him down while Izou tickles him to tears, but if Izou tickles Thatch he could accidentally break the table. It starts to drive you so crazy you lean forward and start grinding into Thatch.

You aren’t trying to get him off, but if you cum it’ll end the tickling from Izou. Your face is a mess, desperate and dripping tears and drool, and the sounds coming from you are a mix of whimpers from the tickling, and moans from the building pleasure.

You’re a mess on Thatch’s cock, desperate and horny, and he can’t take it. He starts matching your erratic movements as best as he can, bucking his hips up into you as you come down on him, grinding into your clit and bracing against the table to ground himself a little.

“Maybe if you lose, sweet flower,” Izou purrs, not too worried about whether or not you can hear him, but knowing Thatch won’t miss his words. “I’ll put you in a nice rope dress to keep you honest. You’d enjoy it, showing it off to the others, wouldn’t you? Letting Thatch inspect the knots during lulls in the kitchen.”

Izou’s gaze catches Thatch’s just before he puts a bruising kiss on your shoulder, making you cry out in surprise, shivering against Thatch’s cock from the sudden shift in sensations. He goes back to tickling you before you can recover, fingers dancing easily over your skin and the network of ropes.

“I’d love to put you on display on the main mast,” Izou purrs, taking a moment as you screech from the renewed tickling, whimpering as you nearly drop the paper ball. “Letting everyone look at you.”

Thatch’s face goes an impressive shade of red as his head falls back and he starts thrusting up into you so much that you’re forced to ride his cock from the action. Izou stops tickling you, keeping you steady inside as Thatch fucks you from his limited position.

You’ve got the paper ball caught delicately between your teeth, panting heavily around it, catching your breath from all the laughing. Izou’s impressed. He wants to mess you up, crush the ball between your teeth and make you cum until you’re sobbing from repeated orgasms, and he might just do that to you tomorrow.

Since Thatch is currently cumming inside you with the deepest rumbled growl of relief Izou’s heard from him in a long time. His entire body goes slack against the table as the afterglow sinks into his muscles. He’s going to have a rough few days ahead of him, but Izou will show Thatch mercy if his orgasm ban starts to affect his duties as division commander.

Bedroom delights are meant to stay in the bedroom, after all.

And maybe, occasionally, on one of the mess hall tables.

“Good job, beautiful flower.” Izou hums, unclamping your nipples and letting you lean back against him as he begins to tease your clit with one hand, making you milk Thatch’s cock with his other hand. “Thatch isn’t going to be able to cum for quite a few days, so you should do your best and wring him dry.”

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theaceofflamesposts · 6 months ago

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Under the Mistletoe

• Various One Piece x GN!Reader •

• SFW • 9.1k Words total •

• Multiple Shorts

• Author's Notes: Happy Holidays, my lovelies! It's a little late for the holidays themselves, but shhhhh. We're ignoring that because time is irrelevant and means nothing.

Did I spend much of my energy mostly focusing on the graphics?

I choose not to answer that.

But yes, I have written silly smooch ficlets. I was originally going to have all 22 blorbos I had written for so far, but it became too much, so I decided to break it up! For the Holidays we have the first 11 (in order as they are listed on the Fic Directory.) The bits are short, but hopefully you find them sweet!

The second half will be posted around Valentine's day for this years Valentine's event (2025).

Anyway, no matter what you celebrate during the holidays, I hope you got to do so with warmth in your heart and that it all went as smooth as it could. May we make it through these dark nights into the new year in one piece! (HA)

As per usual, I am still an 18+ blog. Even with this piece being safe for work, I will still mark this as 18+ only, and minors need to not interact.

• A collection of ficlets involving kissing under the mistletoe written for: Ace, Benn Beckman, Corazon, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Eustass Kid, Garp, Jinbe, Kaku, and Katakuri. Going with Whose Line Is It Anyway rules: Everything's made up and the points don't matter. Is it AU? Canon Setting? Relating back to an existing fic? I just went with were the muses took me.

• CW: Fluff, tooth rotting fluff, there is no dentist in the world who could save your teeth from this fluff, suggestive, possibly some out of character moments (definitely on Katakuri's imo).

Sweet Talk [556 words]

It was hard to not smile around Ace. He was funny, charismatic, charming—a real sweet talker. Maybe that was what had attracted you in the first place? Ace always laid it on thick when you were around, so finding out that he had feelings for you didn’t come as a shock. Especially since he always greeted you with the cheesiest of pickup lines.

“Are you a time traveler? Because I sure do see you in my future.”

“Hey, I’m lost. Can you give me directions to your heart?”

“I’m a man made of fire, but you sure are making it hot in here.”

Most of them left you groaning when he said them, but you always smiled, your heart fluttering a little more each time. You had fallen hard for Ace, and he had always been in love with you.

It was another holiday party, and Ace waited under the mistletoe, being less than subtle about getting you there. Granted, it was rare for Ace to be subtle about much with you. He might as well just have grabbed the bundle of leaves and berries and held it over your head himself at this point.

The man of fire was standing there, hands in the pockets of his shorts as he rocked back and forth on his heels, wearing the tackiest sweater you had ever seen in your life. It was far too large for him, and you were pretty sure it may have actually been Thatch’s, given the size and all. There were also eggs and fish celebrating the holidays with funny little hats, which would have been something that the cook would have requested of Izou for one reason or another, probably just to drive the latter crazy.

Regardless, Ace tried to act nonchalant. He was usually pretty good at that, but he made a point to somehow both avoid eye-contact with you and yet stare intently all the same. He might as well have been waving a sign and calling your name from across the room. You giggled at him when a soft blush painted across his freckled cheeks when your eyes finally met, and you decided to give in and join him.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Ace gave you his winning smile as he ran a hand through his wild and shaggy hair, “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

His smile was infectious, but it was hard to not smile when you were around him, “Ace, we’ve been married for three years.”

Leaning in, he rubbed his nose against yours, “And yet seeing you is like falling for the first time, every time.” Ace then looked up at the mistletoe decoration, “And would you look at that? Mistletoe. You know what that means, right?”

You got up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Of course I do. Come here, handsome.”

As your lips pressed together softly, you could feel his deep chuckle in the back of his throat. It was, however, quickly replaced by the all but too familiar sound of his snoring. You held the brunt of your husband’s weight as he slumped against you, out like a light, and you laughing all the more at the man you fell in love with and married, being genuinely one hundred percent himself.

Traditions [733 words]

Benn was always smooth as silk when it came to sweeping you off your feet. So whisking you away on an island getaway for the holidays was nothing new. Private jet, luxury hotel, full room service, the whole nine.

He was older by a decade or two, but who was counting? You loved him deeply for who he was as a person and how he roughed you up in the bedroom. The fact he worked for an eccentric red-haired business executive who paid him handsomely was just a bonus. You also used to work for Shanks, but when you and Benn started your relationship, he had convinced you to quit and thus began the life of a sugar baby.

Everything was always paid for, and you even had a significant allowance to keep yourself looking and feeling your best. Not that Benn would have ever cared, you could have worn a potato sack and be covered in mud and he’d have still thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He couldn’t help himself around you. If you made even the smallest of requests, or even mentioned something you would enjoy, he would go above and beyond to make sure your every whim was granted.

Like his current trip with you. He was shocked to hear you had never been to the ocean before. He was certain that at some point in your life you’d have been, or the various trips you two had taken together, but you said you only ever saw it from the plane window.

And now, the two of you stood together on the beach, hand in hand. His eyes were glued to your face as you took in the glittering surface of the waves, and the soft rolling lull of them crashing along the shore. You could have stood there and watched it forever, but it was more fun to walk along the edge, dip your feet in, and splash at your lover. There was nothing more exhilarating than running around in your favorite swimsuit in the sun and sand with the love of your life.

You snapped pictures of the scenery, the two of you together, the sandcastle he started to build, the kids that came and played in it until the tide came in and knocked it over. It was a good first day, and the two of you sat at the cabana in the early evening by the pool, waiting for the bartender to make your drinks as you looked out over the holiday decorations. The lights and greenery over the palm trees and tropical plants were a little much, and you shook your head at how different it all was.

“Everything good, baby?” Benn asked as they brought him his whiskey.

You gave him a shrug, “I mean, it is. There are just some things I’m not used to, still. Like a palm tree with lights and ornaments. I’m more used to the holidays being cold and much different. I guess some traditions can be hard to let go of.”

Benn chuckled, “Well, the holidays can now be whatever we want them to be. Personally, I like getting away from the cold. Never been much a fan of it myself, or traditions, really. I prefer to make my own.” The bartender returned with your “mistletoe” margarita and your lover picked it up holding it above his head between the two of you, “We can still kiss under the mistletoe if you’d like.”

Laughing, you cupped his face and kissed him sweetly before reaching up and taking the glass from his hands, “I can get behind making our own traditions,” then took a sip of your drink with a hum of content me, “oh, that’s good. But you should know better than to take my drink before I try it.” You took a longer drink this time, licking your lips, “Mmm, damn, that’s good. What was in this again?”

His hand reached out, catching your chin between his forefinger and thumb to direct your lips back to his. Benn’s kiss was passionate, lingering on the feeling of your tongue against his. When he pulled away, he smacked his lips a few times, “Hmm, something either minty or piney. Hard to say.”

Together you both smiled, and kissed again, not caring who was watching as you began to plan your new traditions together.

Stolen [634 words]

With Buggy, everything was flashy. How he got mistletoe made completely carved out of precious gemstones was a mystery, even to him. Probably one of his men did it. Possibly he stole it on one of his overly detailed and highly embellished stories he always told of heists that you were pretty sure never happened; at least not the way he told it.

Still, it was a gaudy thing. Or you at least usually thought it a gaudy thing. You sipped your punch at the party with your eyes glued to it. There was just something about the way it sparkled in all the lights, it had become mesmerizing. The gemstone mistletoe sparkled, leaving glistening rays that reflected on the surfaces near it. No one was paying it much mind, and you felt an itch deep within yourself that just needed to be scratched. Everyone else was too drunk at this party to miss it, right?

“Wait, where’d it go?”

Mihawk slowly swirled his wine in his glass, barely looking at the clown, “Where did what go?”

Even though it was a holiday party for the members of the Cross Guild and their crews, Crocodile sat in a chair, back turned to all the commotion below as he read the newspaper. It was the same paper he was reading that morning, it couldn’t have been that interesting.

Buggy huffed, “My crystal plant thing!” And motioned toward where it was missing, “The one made to look like that thing people are supposed to kiss under or whatever!”

“Mistletoe,” Crocodile answered drolly, correcting what the item actually was.

“Gesundheit,” Buggy responded, not completely aware of what the sandman was getting at. He had thrown back a few drinks at that point already.

With a roll of his eyes, Mihawk let out the smallest of sighs. He never thought he would miss the days of Perona and Zoro bickering in his castle, and yet here he was. But that was neither here nor there as he spoke flatly, “That thing was ghastly. But your little thief with the pretty eyes you can never talk straight in front of absconded with it all but a few moments ago. I am certain you could still make chase if you tried hard enough.”

Buggy was already tripping over the railing before the swordsman had finished speaking, both floating and running toward an exit of the big-top. It wasn’t long before he was face to face with you and the crystal mistletoe.

You had been holding it above your head, admiring its shine in the light of the full moon. It truly was exquisite now that you could look at it in better light, such a waste for it to be in side and ignored by others who wouldn’t appreciate it. The item held your attention so much that you had barely noticed Buggy’s approach; he cleared his throat, and you looked at him, both of you now staring at one another.

The clown gasped as you smiled at him; the smile that made him feel like he could do anything. You leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. His heart fluttered in his chest as if cut into thousands of pieces and flew all around inside him, and he smiled back. Not that he hadn’t done that before, but he was too distracted to think about it at the moment.

Buggy took in a small breath, leaning in to kiss you properly on the lips. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, maybe it was the mistletoe itself, or his own now or never reasoning. In your surprise, you dropped the crystals, both of you forgetting it quickly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, now finding a far better treasure to claim as your own.

Beauty & Grace [580 words]

He’s beauty and he’s grace, he’s flat upon his face…

The little jingle you sometimes teased your boyfriend with played in your head as you had witnessed his current wipe out. Your sweet and darling Corazon really tried, but you knew better than to expect anything less. It was cold and snowy after all, and most around would just suspect the poor man slipped on an ice patch.

“You alright?” you leaned over him, waiting for any sign of life.

Corazon rolled onto his back, arms spread out on either side of him. His angelic face was slightly worse for wear—split lip, scuffed nose, and possibly another black eye—but he beamed up at you all the same. Because you were the light of his life, and Corazon couldn’t bear to give you anything but his best smile. Should a hint of a frown or tear ever appear on your expression because he could not win against gravity, he would most likely go to pieces.

“Perfectly fine,” he grinned ear to ear, even though it looked like he suddenly had a tooth missing, “I’ll be up in a moment as soon as the cold sidewalk stops feeling so good on my sore back.”

Shaking your head, you brushed some of his fluffy bangs out of his face, mostly inspecting him for any further injury. A few people stopped, but you quickly waved them off with a polite smile and nod. Corazon would be alright, he always was, but you were all too familiar with his flare for the dramatic, whether he realized he was doing it or not. It was one of the few traits he shared with his older brother beyond their physical similarities.

Letting out a soft hum, you patted his cheek, “You seem no worse for wear,” then attempted to lift him by his massive shoulders, “Come on, darling. Up and at ‘em.”

Your lover groaned, continuing to be dead weight, “Can I at least get a cigarette first?”

“Not until you get up,” you giggled, holding his cheeks in your hands. His head was in your lap after you were attempting to get him up, and you knew it really would do nothing to make him stand any faster.

Suddenly, you noticed his gaze caught elsewhere, looking beyond you and up at the decorations that the little shop he had fallen in front of had put up and around. The whole town was decorated festively for the holiday season, it was why you had insisted on going out to enjoy it together while you still could. That was when you noticed where his gaze was focused.

“Oh, it’s mistletoe.”

No sooner had the words left you, but Corazon was already turning you to face him, sitting up now and capturing your lips with his. Your lover had kissed you countless times, but it always felt as if he was taking your breath away little by little each time, causing you to fall deeper into the depths of your love for him. Corazon chuckled deep in the back of his throat, pulling away from you to say something cute and charming.

Instead, his matches in his pocket somehow ignited, catching fire as his face contorted into sheer panic. Letting out a sigh, you shook your head as you stood to your feet and got the water bottle out of your purse, used solely for putting him out when these things happened.

He’s beauty and he’s grace…

Viral [550 words]

You still couldn’t believe you had done it. It had been two days, but you were in the city with some friends when a random person recording for their social media channel stopped you and asked if you would kiss a stranger they had ready under the mistletoe for 500 Beri.

“Sure, why not?” You could use the extra Beri for some holiday shopping, anyway.

Off camera, they had a few wavers to sign, and then back on camera, they set you up in a little square with a curtain between you and another person. There was something with hefty wings fluttering about in your stomach as your friends and other watchers on began a countdown. You weren’t even aware that one had been called before the curtain was dropped from in between and you were face to face (more like face to chest, but then your head tilted up quickly) with a tall man. It was cold outside, so he was bundled up in an expensive coat, hat, scarf, and gloves. Most noticeable was the odd scar running across his face from one side to the other.

It felt like ages before he smirked, a toothy grin that barely reached his eyes, “Well, aren't you a pretty jewel,” he murmured so that only you could hear, “Let’s give them a show.”

Without warning, the handsome stranger spun you and dipped you as if it were a scene from a romantic movie. You were pretty sure this was beyond what the contract allowed, but he was hot, and when his lips met yours, there was no air left in your lungs to complain. Not that you were, you were already planning how to ask for his number, and already planning the wedding.

But when he righted you back up and the blood in your body rushed back to where it was supposed to be, you realized that there was a cheering crowd. You had also agreed for this to be posted online for anyone to see.

A squeak escaped you, and you turned and ran. Your friends followed after, and you hid in your apartment from the world. Within a few hours, you had money wired to your cash app, and you spent the next few days trying to forget the whole ordeal.

That was until you got a text from your friend. No context, just the video of you and the mystery man’s romantic kiss. Eighteen million views and counting. Another link was sent, a response video of the mysterious man having responded: He was looking for you.

A plea and a prayer that this message would somehow find you; he wasn’t good at these sort of things, nor did he want to say too much on this video app because the masses didn’t matter to him. He wanted to meet you again, to have a proper introduction. But now that you were looking at the man better, you realized who he was.

Sir Crocodile, owner of Wani Enterprises. He was far less intimidating in person than he usually is from the cover of magazines or on television. A man of great power and influence. And he was looking for you.

Your heart raced in your chest as you responded to his video in the comments.

“Here I am.”

Party [718 words]

Doflamingo delighted in wining and dining others, especially at the holidays. Alcohol loosened lips, allowed for his spies to gather secrets he could later use. The world was still blissfully unaware of the dark empire of the King of Dressrosa. You weren’t, but you didn’t care—you were his queen. Well, his partner, really, but he called you his queen behind closed doors, and for now that was enough.

His queen, who was watching him and his friends make absolute asses of themselves. The party had wound down and the other guests had either retired for the night or lay strewn out, drunk on the floor. Currently, Trebol and Diamante sang carols terribly as Giolla played the piano. None of them were the same song, but none of them seemed sober enough to notice. At least the laughter of the rest of the family drowned out some of it.

Dellinger and Baby 5 were crying in a corner over lost loves, or something. Sugar was hanging ornaments and garland on Pica, Buffalo was helping, and you were pretty sure the large man of stone had fallen asleep standing there with his eyes open again. Lao G was asleep in a chair by the fireplace with his loud snoring being the only indication of life, while Senior Pink and Gladius were playing chess. Were being the key word, Gladius had begun blowuping pieces since he was losing.

Doflamingo was on lounging about the whole couch, playing a guitar as Machvice sang a ballad. You didn’t recognize the language; that or it was just his drunken slurring. Violette and Pink’s fan club were dancing until recently, Violet was missing—most likely gone to bed—and the fan club asleep around Senior Pink’s chair. At least they had stopped sighing and screeching every few minutes.

Putting your goblet down, you stood and strode over to your king, watching as the smile on his face grew wider. You could see his eyes through the mirrored glasses following you, at least you always thought you could see them. No one else paid you any mind, too focused on themselves and their noise making. All of it blurred into silence as you approached the man you loved, lost in the sight of his deft fingers moving across the strings fluently. He always did know how to use them well—his fingers and the strings of course.

“There you are,” Doflamingo’s tune slowed to a near stop as he leaned his head back to look at you better as you stood at the arm of the couch, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“To bed,” you smiled down at him, running your hands over his shoulders, “Are you coming with or are you going to wake me up a few hours from now when you come stumbling in?”

The man scoffed, “I never stumble, I saunter gracefully with purpose wherever I go.”

You rolled your eyes, “Nothing about you is graceful with those clunky pillars of legs,” his face contorted into a scowl, and you squished his cheeks together, “But, I still love you.”

His smile returned, his unique laugh rolling out of his mouth more like a contented purr, “Yes, fine. I’ll let you get away with that this time. I’ll come wake you later. Got a present for you, after all.”

Feigning surprise, you cocked a brow at him, “Wouldn’t have anything to do with that mistletoe I saw you shoving down your pants earlier, hm?”

“You saw that, huh?” He dropped the guitar out of his lap, reaching down the front of his ants and pulling it back out. This was not the first time he had placed a present for you there before. Doflamingo leaned back to look at you again, holding it above his head, “Can’t blame me for trying.”

Leaning over him again, you rubbed your nose against his, “I don’t. I’ll be more surprised for you to not have it your pants again when you come to bed.”

He leaned up just enough to kiss you, “I make no promises.” Doflamingo kissed you again as the whole chessboard exploded, causing the rest of the family to start arguing about themselves in their collective drunken stupor. “See you in bed. But you’re missing one hell of a party.”

Festive [720 words]

Kid felt like he was losing his mind. Life came with its own strife when he settled down with a sunshine of a lover. Yes, you made his days brighter and far more colorful. Yes, your laughter and smile were deadly for his heart and overall judgement. You were like a little fairy among his punk rock crew, and typically it wasn’t a problem.

But then the winter holidays arrived.

His crew celebrated any and all holidays they could, everyone was from all walks of life and it was fun with all the different traditions. Plus, it was any excuse to drink himself stupid at any port they were at and hook up with a pretty little thing. Now that he was exclusive with you, well, he just showed you off and then carried you off to where he pleased.

You had asked such an innocent question, “May I decorate?”

Kid was usually not a man of regret. He was regretting his answer of “Go nuts.”

Pine garland, festive lights, sweaters with decorative stitching all over them, a whole gingerbread city. Not just a house, a city. You and Killer and the others had names and back stories for every gingerbread person. Kid swore all he did was take a nap for a few hours and wake up to all of this. Had you been planning for a long time? Everyone’s sweaters were so… festive.

Wire was placing a star on top of a tree—where did the tree even come from?—while Heat was lighting lanterns to hang around with his fire breath. Killer was handing out hot chocolate while Bubblegum and a few others were practicing a new set to complete the festive mood. You clapped your hands as you stood back and admired your handy work. The Victoria Punk was now the Victoria North Pole from the looks of it, and you couldn’t have been more pleased.

“What in the world?” Kid’s words would usually be far more explicit, but he was still reeling from the shock.

You twirled around to greet him with your ever present bright smile. Normally, your bubbly grin would distract him from anything else happening around him, but he was far too distracted by what was going on.

“Wire, are you wearing antlers?” Kid asked as you hugged him around the waist.

“Yeah man,” Wire nodded, wearing actual antlers of some sort in place of his usual spiked crown, “Y/N got ‘em.”

Kid’s hairless brow knitted together, he had so many questions. You held up a sweater to him, “I made you this one, Pookie!” It was green with various lights flashing across it. His golden eyes cast down to you, and you just continued to smile, “What? I just kinda slapped it all together from odds and ends I had.”

“From where?” Kid sounded both confused and terrified. His flesh hand took the sweater from you, looking it over carefully. He always forgot the crazy levels of determination you had when you put your mind to something. Hell hath no fury like when you had a plan to put into action.

“Don’t worry about it!”

Your words might as well have hearts and rainbows physically trailing off them as you handed him a bundle of green holly leaves with white berries. Pointing to where you would like him to hang it, Kid hung the mistletoe without complaint. He let out a sigh, keeping his flesh hand on your waist as you clapped again and giggled. You were happy, and that’s all that mattered.

He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours in a sweet kiss that smudged his lipstick against yours, causing you to laugh more. His gaze softened, then looked out over the rest of the crew, having fun and enjoying themselves. Kid picked you up, kissing your cheek and neck as he always did, leaving smudges of his lipstick staining your skin as you squealed and kicked your feet.

Your eyes met, and you felt yourself melting under his gaze, letting out a contented sigh as he looked over all the red marks. Kid smiled, then looked back out over the ship, “So, you’re really into this time of year, huh?”

“Oh no, not at all.” Kid nearly dropped you in his shock, “I just really like decorating.”

Romantic [1k words]

There were many words to describe Monkey D. Garp. Heroic and brave would come to mind if you asked the public. Stubborn and bullheaded if you asked his subordinates, and asshole to those who knew him best. But there was one word that even Garp himself would find strange to describe himself as.

Romantic.

Like most Marines, Garp was devoted to his duty above all else—or at least to what he believed was right, given his own view of justice. But the first time he saw you in town, opening a new bakery, he thought his interest was just in the sweet and delicious pastries you had made and presented every day. It became a part of his routine to stop in your shop first thing in the morning and buy a few donuts. After a time, you would have his order ready for him, long with a coffee, just how he liked it.

Conversation came naturally, Garp was a friendly man, and you were a kind person. He learned much of your life, likes, and dislikes quickly, and even began to take you out to dinners after you had closed your shop. Why not? You two had easily become friends by now. It wasn’t until Koby pointed it out to him.

“Sir, are you in love?”

The question hit Garp like one of his own punches. Was he? Had he been? He couldn’t remember the last time he had even looked at anyone romantically. Garp couldn’t take the idea seriously. He was an old man, and you were still so young with your whole life ahead of you. Even if Koby was right, and he had gained deeper feelings for you, he was just as content remaining friends.

One morning, Garp was returning from an assignment away, going right for your bakery as soon as his ship made port. He had promised to help you decorate your store for the holiday, but was out a day later than he intended. Little did he know you started without him, and when he threw open the door suddenly, the strength of his action caused the entire building to shake—including you on the very high ladder. Thankfully, he was there to catch you.

“What on earth are you doing?” Garp yelled, “You could have hurt yourself! Doing this by yourself, you should know better!”

You scoffed at him, blinking a few times, “I—I was absolutely fine until you busted down my door!”

The old vice-admiral would hear nothing of it, reaching to pick up the garland you had dropped with one hand while still holding you like pampered royalty in the other, “Fine my ass, you fell! What if I wasn’t here to catch you? You’da been up shit’s creek without a paddle.”

He continued to grumble and mumble, mostly about how he made you a promise, so you should have waited. Garp effortlessly hung your decorations with ease, given his overall height, not putting you down and holding you protectively against his chest. When he finished scolding you, he stood back and looked over all the garland he had hung about the bakery for you, breathing out his nose triumphantly at his accomplishment.

“Uh, Garp?” You spoke softly, tapping his shoulder, “Are you going to put me down now? I need to open.”

“No.” He huffed again and puffed out his chest.

“And why not?”

“I like holding you.” Garp stated as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

You felt your body temperature rise as he flashed you his famous grin, causing you to stutter more of your words, “I—I need to open the s-shop. P-Please put me down?”

Reaching behind him, he flipped your wooden sign to show “OPEN” to the outside. It was one he had made himself when he thought your last one was looking shabby.

“Garp.”

Again, that shit-eating smile of his, “What? The store’s open.” His laugh bellowed out as he carried you around the bakery, “Now you can reach top shelves!” He shifted his hold on you, lifting you under your arms and spinning you around.

Garp’s laughter was infectious, and you couldn’t help yourself, giving his chest a swat, “Now who’s being reckless?”

“What?” He pulled you back to his chest, still grinning like an idiot, “I thought I was just being romantic.”

The words left his mouth, leaving the two of you gaping at one another. Garp often spoke without thinking, but he would never say something like that without meaning it. He felt his entire face turning red, practically seeing his own reflection in how wide your eyes were.

Romantic.

Was that really what he was doing? Romancing you? Sweeping you off your feet? Did it count since he caught you while you fell? He really should say something, but what? How much time had passed? Minutes? Seconds? Had he turned to stone?

No, he had to stop thinking about things. Thinking too much about it was what made him ignore what was right in front of him all this time. Besides, his subordinates always claimed he never thought about much at all, so why should he allow it to hold him back now?

Garp pressed his lips against yours in a heated kiss, but it felt more like he had forgotten how kissing even worked. Even Garp could tell, and he pulled away almost as quickly as he had started, the stunned expression still leaving your eyes the size of dinner plates.

“Garp…” You covered your mouth, finally able to move your gaze away from him.

“I uh…” now that he was thoroughly embarrassed, he was attempting to save face, “we’re under the mistletoe, that’s all!”

You pointed to your counter; the mistletoe intended to hang over your entry door still sitting there, untouched. Garp rubbed his face, letting out a sigh, “You really gonna make an old man like me say it?”

Shaking your head, removed his hand from his face, “I won’t make you,” then pulled his face to yours to rub your nose against his, showing him in your own way that you returned his feelings, “But I think it’d be romantic if you did.”

Santa [848 words]

Jinbe knew about human holiday traditions; he was a worldly and understanding man. Obtaining and exchanging gifts was something he enjoyed, mostly because it was a fine way to show those close to you that you appreciated them and cared. Their happy faces helped to remind him that everything in the world would be alright, despite the state of things.

It was his first year with you and the Straw Hats, and the crew just happened to be close to a winter island. All the decorations and lights were far more enjoyable about the ship beneath a blanket of snow. Chopper was the happiest, as he was from a winter island, and shared his excitement for the visit of a certain “Santa”.

At first, Jinbe was a bit confused. He knew about the lore of Santa Claus, but he thought that only children believed in the spirit of Saint Nicolas. Yes, compared to his own age, Chopper definitely qualified as a child, but the small doctor was starry-eyed and gushing, wondering what Santa would bring him this year. As was Luffy, but Jinbe was less surprised by this. Robin had pulled the fishman aside, saying that a few of them drew straws the night before to see who would dress up as Santa for those that still believed. He was delighted by this information, and more than happy to be included. Much to Jinbe’s surprise, he drew the short lot and got the honor of being that year’s Santa.

Late in the evening, after everyone else had gone to bed, you assisted Jinbe into the Santa costume. He was more than capable of dressing himself, but you and he had started to see each other romantically behind closed doors, and any excuse to be alone on a ship was a welcome respite. Not that you two didn’t want the others to know, but you preferred for the others to not be up in your business. When the two of you were ready, you two would tell them together.

Your fishman lover seemed nervous and expressed how obvious it would be if he got caught: Santa wasn’t blue. With a soft chuckle, you tucked the beard on him, telling him he looked just fine, and to put the presents under the tree. It would be dark enough, even if Chopper could see in the dark.

Jinbe was very nimble and quiet on his feet, which, given his training in fishman karate, was not surprising to you in the least bit. He got into the role, too, looking around every so often and letting out “ho ho hos” of laughter after taking small nibbles of the cookies and milk left out for “Santa”. By the stars above, it was endearing.

You watched, smiling as he filled everyone’s stockings after the presents were placed under the metal tree that Franky built that had a laser light show, a cola fountain, and something about a guitar solo. Giving him a thumbs up when he was done, Jinbe joined you in the doorway with the empty bag. He placed a finger over his lips, winking to you as he pointed to the mistletoe Sanji had hung and kept waiting under for Robin and Nami all day (but only got Brook chasing him around demanding equal treatment and a kiss).

There was a warmth to your cheeks as you got on your toes, and he bent down to meet you, kissing him sweetly. It was rare that the two of you ever kissed like this, as Jinbe was a little old-fashioned. He had never been much of a fan of public displays of affection, but he was good to you when he did show it. Even with the tusks, he was a very good kisser. You hummed contently, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled you closer, the two of you becoming more passionate as the seconds rolled by. The beard tickled your face, his webbed hands squeezed your rear; it was silly and fun, and you both enjoyed the private moment.

The next morning, you sat with your coffee, half awake as the other members of the crew ripped through packaging and delighted in the gifts they found. Chopper was happiest with the present from “Santa”, a new microscope he had seen two islands back that you had gotten him. However, when Chopper looked to you and said “thank you”, you were more than confused.

“Thank you for telling Santa for me!” Chopper said with delight as Jinbe came in to join the fray, also holding his own mug of tea as he sat down, “You two seem to have a special relationship!”

You raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean, Chopper?”

“I saw you two kissing last night under the mistletoe!” Jinbe choked on his tea, sputtering and coughing as the rest of the crew looked between you and your fishman lover with shock and surprise. Laying your head in your hands, you groaned, as there was not enough coffee in the world to have prepared you for this situation.

"Liar" [1.3k words]

Working for the World Government was typically duller than the Celestial Dragons themselves (not that you would ever say that out loud, you knew better. But they couldn’t really stop you from thinking it, now could they?) The job came with decent benefits and a fair amount of respect of the working class of Mary Geoise, but there was one reason single citizens of the holy city took up positions as secretaries and office workers.

The Cipher Pol Agents.

Fan clubs were the polite term. Obsessive stalkers were probably a more accurate statement. The agents were aware of their own little groupies, and some played into it. Like Jabra, but his fans would typically drop after he would sleep with them. Lucci did his best to not threaten his fans too often—it only turned his them on and made them bolder. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that—and Kumadori often performed his own original kabuki plays to a sold out house. Blueno and Stussy paid none of their clubs much mind, and Kalifa’s kept a distance, less HR give the members of hers a call for “sexual harassment.”

Then there was yourself and the small club of admirers you were sometimes embarrassed to admit that you were a part of. Not because of the man himself, but more so for how it made you feel to look at him. That twisting and churning feeling deep in your belly that you would never give a name to. And that would be just from looking at him.

You could hear Kaku laughing with others at the holiday party, and that all too familiar gut tumbling came to you again. Why on all the Grand Line was he so handsome? That smile of his made even depictions of angels look lackluster in comparison, and his natural charm always made others feel at ease, even with his intimidating position and overall stature.

The fluttering of your heart followed when his eyes met yours across the room, breath caught in your throat as you stood there stupidly with your glass of champagne. The CP agents almost never came to the holiday parties, let alone the higher-ranking members. What in the world was Kaku doing here, being all attractive and hot? How dare he!

Worse, he gave you a smirk and a wink. The audacity of this man!

Turning away, you downed the rest of your champagne, placing your empty glass on a table and moving through the crowd of people. You needed air, but someone would notice you leaving the party. Luckily, there was a balcony nearby, and no one else seemed to be occupying it. In through the nose, out through the mouth. A few moments of fresh air in your lungs, and you could clear your mind of the man you were both a fan of, and—

“Well, that was rude.” Kaku chuckled from behind you, taking a few steps with his long strides to stand closer, “I figured you would at least come say hello.”

“You were having a conversation. I didn’t wish to interrupt.” It was hard to keep a calm sounding voice, especially now that you could smell his cologne. The same woody and manly he wore back when you two were together. Before he was being sent off to Water 7 and you broke things off.

—You were his ex.

Kaku chuckled, shaking his head. He put a hand on your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze, “Don’t be like that. You know better than I do how boring everyone is here. What with those silly little fan clubs and all.” Your spine stiffened when you heard him mention the fan clubs, even more when he leaned in and tapped the little giraffe pin you were wearing, “Hm, interesting.”

The heat rose into your cheeks, trying to move his hand away, “Don’t think anything of it,” you knew it was feeble to act otherwise, but you still wanted to save some dignity, “Everyone hounds you until you join a club. It’s like a thing. Sometimes people just pick one to keep from being badgered.”

His long fingers brushed your chin, tilting your head to look up at him, “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“Am not,” you protested, looking directly into his beautiful dark eyes.

When you broke up with him back then, you didn’t wish to, but he didn’t know when he would be back. Calling things off was easier. The years had still been kind to him, and he had grown up so much since you both were younger. It made you feel childish for having just responded to his accusation as you had.

Kaku’s grin made your heart race faster and harder than it ever had, “Still as pouty as ever. If you’re so honest, go on then. Tell me something true.”

You didn’t think for even a second, “Lucci thinks his fan club is the biggest, but it’s actually Hattori’s that’s the largest.”

He was obviously not expecting that, blinking at you a few times with a wide-eyed expression, “Wait, really?”

“Oh, yeah.” You continued, “They’re real secretive and all. Super weird bunch, but they overlap a lot of the other fan clubs. You also have to be invited in and initiated. I declined.”

Again, Kaku stuttered a moment, then shook out his head, “Okay, circle back to that. I meant something about you and me.”

Folding your arms, you huffed a bit, looking Kaku up and down. His CP0 uniform looked good on him, but you hated that weird top hat. It was his only flaw, really, as he always looked better in a baseball cap.

“Your hat’s stupid.”

“That’s an opinion.”

“It’s an honest opinion.”

Kaku stared you down a moment before he cracked a smile, shaking his head, “Alright, fine then.” He reached up and removed his hat, placing it over his heart, “Now. About us?”

You turned away from him, looking out over the scenery from the balcony with a sigh, “There isn’t much to talk about. You said you didn’t know how long you would be gone, and you didn’t want to make me wait for you. So I broke it off, you were gone five years, became disavowed, then suddenly I turned around, and you were reinstated as CP0.”

Leaning forward on the railing, you sighed. If there was ever a wedge between the two of you before, it was much bigger now that he was as high ranking as he was. You were just a secretary, an office worker. You were lucky to even have a position in the government at all.

Kaku put his hat down, leaning against the railing with you. He plucked some of the decoration they had around it off and twirled it between his fingers, “And then you joined my fan club.”

Again, the heat flooded your cheeks as you bit your lip, unable to really answer him. Of course you joined it, you still had feelings for him. That, and most of the other fan clubs were weird. No one else was aware of your past relationship, they’d probably maul you for information that wasn’t their business in the first place.

“And then I joined your fan club.” You sighed, not really needing to hide it from him.

His hand covered yours, nudging you with his shoulder, “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m still your biggest fan.”

A barely audible gasp escaped you as you turned to look at him. His winning smile, bright like the sun, and his hand holding the decoration he had removed from the railing before above your head. You glanced up at it, realizing it was mistletoe before he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss wasn’t unwanted, just briefly surprising, almost causing you to fall backward.

Kaku managed to catch you, pulling your body closer to his, “Careful now. Can’t let everyone see you falling for me all over again.”

“Am not!”

With a deep chuckle from the back of his throat, Kaku leaned into you again, gently breathing against your lips before he kissed you a second time, “Liar.”

Fixated [1.4k words]

Another holiday, another party.

Katakuri loved his family, he truly did. But with how many of them there were, made all the events, tea parties, and any reason his mother had to get together and be glutinous came with its own level of monotony over time. There were those who fought both physically, those who fought emotionally, those who cried and complained, and just the overall drama that came of being a family that numbered into the hundreds. That wasn’t even considering the guests, or into Daifuku’s current attitude, but it wasn’t his problem. Very little got under his icy and cool demeanor, and while he could often break up the disputes between his family members with a look, tonight he was distracted.

You stood with your father, a merchant who assisted with the exportation of Totto Land’s goods, looking the epitome of refinement. Katakuri had spoken to you on occasion, always delighting in your wit and intelligence, and was happy to see you had come to join your father again. It really shouldn’t have been a surprise, he was looking to retire, and had been teaching you the art of his trade, as well as maintaining the connections he had built up through the years.

He watched as you laughed at something someone said, and Katakuri felt the surface of his skin warm, though he was unsure why. You put him on edge more recently, as the last couple of times he had seen you, his haki seemed to be out of commission. Katakuri had tried to explain it to Brulée and Smoothie, how concerning it was to not be able to use his “future vision” when speaking with you with how much his heart would beat; but they just laughed at him and called him an idiot. Oven also showed little concern, but it was rare for Oven to express interest in the feelings of others.

There were few others in the family Katakuri felt he could talk to, and was at a loss. He didn’t understand why his heart raced, his palms sweat, and try as he might, he could get no visions. Did you possess an advance level of haki he didn’t know about? You weren’t aware of his abilities that he knew of, so why would you need to block against it? It was strange to him, why did you put him on edge like this? He couldn’t remember the last time he had experienced anything like it.

Again, you laughed, catching his attention as a man standing next to you—not your father or related to you—touched your arm in an overly familiar way. Katakuri’s eyes honed in on the point of contact, a sudden rage washing over him. His hands clenched, the one holding his drinking glass caused it to shatter in his hold, and those around him gasped.

“For fuck’s sake, brother…” Brulée sighed, waving for some homies to come clean up the mess and directing Katakuri out of the way, “You really have caught a case of the stupids over this.”

“Over what?” Katakuri growled at his younger sister, absorbing the glass shards into his skin. It wasn’t like he could be hurt over something so trivial, and he was certain someone in the family could make another glass.

Smoothie came to join them, bringing a fresh glass of whatever poor soul she had squeezed it from, “Let me guess, he saw that guy touch his little fixation.”

Katakuri’s brows knitted together, more so than his usual scowl, “What little fixation?”

Both Brulée and Smoothie gave him a look. They seemed to know something he didn’t, making him to growl. Brulée rarely kept secrets from Katakuri, so he was wondering why she was starting now.

Amande had joined them at some point—how did he not even notice?—taking the drink from Smoothie and putting it into their brother’s hand. Katakuri didn’t even want it, but when Amande turned him back to face where you were standing with the group you and your father had been conversing with, he noticed that the man who had touched you before now suddenly had his arm around your shoulder.

When the glass shattered again in his fist, all three of his sisters huffed, “Fixated.” He glared at his sisters, a look that would normally have those in the family cowering in fear. However, the three of them just sighed in unison again, then leaned in and whispered among themselves. The mochi man took his attention away from them and back to you, only to feel his heart racing at the fact you were gone. Where did you go? How could his sight not have shown him you would walk away? Did you leave with that man? Who was he to you?

Why was he suddenly moving?

Oven had thrown him over his shoulder, shuffling him off somewhere while no one was looking. Brulée was leading the charge, but Katakuri was far too flabbergasted to register anything that was going on.

“Here?” Oven asked, his voice rough.

“Yep.” Brulée answered, resulting in Oven dropping his brother on his feet somewhere out in the gardens. There was icing decorations everywhere to make it look like snow, and Amande was clearing out all the homies that she could. Before any explanation, Katakuri was left alone with silence and a million questions in his head as his only companions.

“Oh, Katakuri!” He froze when you addressed him, his whole body slowly moving to face you directly. No wonder he couldn’t figure out what was going on.

He opened his mouth to speak from under his scarf, but he suddenly found his throat drier than all of Alabasta, and his palms sweating out the entire Grand Line. Maybe he needed to stop wearing so much leather?

“Good evening,” the mochi man was struggling to keep his cool, but he’d be damned if he let it show. “Lovely weather this evening. I trust you and your father’s trip was well.”

You almost looked a little disappointed, shocked even, “Um, yes. It is, and it was. We always enjoy coming out for your family’s parties, so I had been looking forward to it for a time.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you for coming all this way.”

Silence.

Katakuri couldn’t help but stare at you, watching your every movement. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge, waiting for his haki to show him what was coming, and yet nothing. It wasn’t as if he had to be weary of you; you were harmless. Then why did his heart beat like this? Why was he so fixated on you when you were around?

“This is fucking painful.” He heard Smoothie whisper from behind a hedge.

Oven grumbled to their sisters, “You guys said this would be entertaining.”

Katakuri could see your embarrassment as it was evident his siblings had no concept of being quiet, even while whispering. There was a soft smacking noise as Oven protested with “ow” and Brulée barked at him, “Just do the thing!”

Both you and Katakuri looked up as a long pole of sorts popped out from above the hedge. How all of them hid back there was mildly baffling, no one was “small” in the Charlotte family. Nor did anyone really do anything “small”, which he was realizing now as he noticed the pole had mistletoe tied to the end. Of course it did, they had figured him out before he had.

Sighing to himself with a small smile hidden by his scarf, Katakuri realized that his siblings’ actions had been for his benefit the whole evening. He saw how your eyes lit up at the sight of the mistletoe, laughing softly to yourself as Katakuri squatted down to a better height. Taking your hand, which was so much smaller than his own, his eyes met yours, knowing he didn’t need to see the future between the two of you.

The mochi man placed your hand against his cheek, then covered your eyes with his own hand as he pulled down his scarf. He didn’t want to scare you off, mostly just happy his family hadn’t done so already. Taking in a small breath, Katakuri leaned in to press his lips gently against yours.

You were the sweetest taste he had ever experienced, even if his sisters accompanied the moment mumbling “finally”, and his brother griping about how stupid it was.

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#one piece fanfiction #well this was everything i needed

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