Ace fucking you so hard you cry. Even better if he doesn't know he's into that. He would never want to be the one who causes that, who hurts you so much, who makes you cry, so why is it so hot when your eyes are wet and shimmering, fat tears pooling at your waterline, spilling over your cheeks? Why does he want to fuck you so much harder? Mouth open, drool spilling, mascara leaking, messy. Voice rough from sobbing. Why does it make him so greedy? How quickly he goes from never wanting to make you cry to being the only person who wants to see your tears.
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ACE has been going at it for a while. The lotion on his nightstand is half empty and he needs something, fast. He grabs the pillow beside him and puts it between his legs.
Impatient to cum, he forgets the imaginary foreplay and starts grinding on the cotton. Deprived of friction, ACE’S hips started moving faster. His breathing became laborious and uneven with effort. He still has yet cum.
The pre-cum leaking out of his tip created a stain in the pillow. His fingers gripped the bedsheets as his hips moved even faster. With a subtle shift of his position, ACE started feeling friction against cock.
Images of you flooded his mind to fuel his pleasure. With a low groan, he spurted all over his pillow with some getting on the bed. ACE lazily jerked off to draw it out before flopping over the inseminated pillow.
A/N: This is the most self indulgent thing because I was dying last week but here's my thoughts on Ace helping you out with that pesky time of the month.
Ace x Female!Reader
-period cramps? Say less. Portgas D. Ace is your man. This man is a walking heating pad and therefore the best person to help you with them.
-You tell him you're not feeling well and you're cramping? You're suddenly in bed with him and he's behind you, making sure to heat up those pesky back cramps, and has his hands on your stomach, warmed up enough that it relieves the pain. Honestly, puts you right to sleep.
-10/10 the best cuddler and care taker of period cramps once you explain it to him. He doesn't want you to be in pain so he's going to do everything to make sure you aren't.
- 10/10 will also tell Thatch to make you whatever you want.
-Absolutely is the best boyfriend and he's a man about it so he will go ask Marco what you need and how he can help you even more.
-We don't deserve this man.
"Aceeee." You whined from where you had burrowed yourself in your bed, refusing to get out, and quite frankly the pain was too much to even more. The second division commander frowned as he walked over to you, brushing your hair back a bit.
"Cramps?" He asked and you nodded, already lifting the covers for him to join you. It was a good thing he was shirtless.
"Please?" You asked softly and he melted, arleady kicking off his boots and climbing into bed with you. He moved so he was behind you, pressing himself against your back and wrapping his arms around you, his big hands resting over your stomach as he buried his face in your hair. He warmed his hands and you sighed happily, contently.
"Oh, that's better." You muttered, sinking back into the man. He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your temple and warmed the rest of your body.
Ace loves making you squirm, testing your body to see how much flame you can handle, and he loves when he finds it, riding edging that limit for as long as he wants while you twitch and writhe.
He loves to trail his fingers gently across your skin, burning them just a slight, just enough to see the red on your skin trailing over your body
He especially loves to pry open your legs and tease your thighs. Not just with his fingers, sticking out his tongue he slowly lathers it along your inner thighs, inflicting stinging pain in you while holding tightly to your thighs as you twitch, trailing his tongue closer, and closer to your pussy lips. But stops in ight at the labia. He laughs as you whine and plead, his hot, hot breath grazing your wet pussy with each second. He wants you to fucking beg to be fucked by his hot cock, eaten out by his stinging tongue, anything, crying as you plead like the cute little toy you are.
He’d light his finger like a match and put the flame out on your skin like a cigarette, melt candle wax in his hands to drip on your beautiful tits and tummy, getting hard with each other such yelp you make
summary: the gaang admit they want you and decide to show you exactly how much.
warnings: sub!reader, fem!reader, orgy dynamics, multiple partners, oral sex, handjobs, throat fucking implied, oral receiving, praise kink, teasing, edging, orgasm denial, temperature play, ice play, sensory overload, rough kissing, gagging, degradation themes, punishment but no reward, consensual dominance, breast play, nipple stimulation, clit stimulation, messy kissing, cum play, sexual tension, power dynamics, smut, MDNI;
wc: 2,5k
a/n: katara being both a top and the mastermind behind this was inevitable actually. thank you to my 💠 anon for suggesting this.
It started as a joke.
As a funny question about who was having crushes on who.
One thing led to another, and they all somehow told you it was you.
That was when silence fell over the entire room.
During your time together with the gaang, there had been awkward moments and silence before, yet nothing too out of the ordinary. But this one? It was different. More suffocating. More… intimate. You could feel the gazes on you now, watching you with focus and unreadable expressions.
Your heartbeat started increasing, your palms turning sweaty as your mind scrambled for something to say. You didn’t know what to do or where to go from this.
Of course, the attraction was both ways.
From the moment you met them and started spending time together, you felt it growing stronger with every passing day. But you never dared to say or do anything about it, too scared it would ruin the vibe between all of you.
The close relationships you had built with each of them mattered too much. You couldn’t throw everything away.
“We didn’t want you to feel weirded out, you know?” Katara finally broke the silence as she scooted closer, until her chest pressed against your arm.
“Oh, no, I would never—”
Your breath caught in your throat the moment her hand landed on your thigh.
“Is that okay?” Katara asked softly, fingers resting there carefully.
You could barely answer her.
You nodded quietly instead.
“I want to hear you talk,” she pushed gently, her hand slowly sliding higher up your thigh.
“It’s okay,” you breathed out shakily.
“You’re blushing like crazy,” Sokka snickered as he leaned back on his palms, eyes never leaving your form.
You threw him a glare, but the second your eyes locked with his, you couldn’t hold it for long.
Yeah.
For the first time, you actually felt intimidated by Sokka.
“Are you too hot right now?” Katara spoke again, making you look back at her. “You’re burning up,” she continued while your breathing turned more uneven with every second. “Should I help you?”
She offered it so casually, like she wasn’t making your entire body heat up with just a few touches.
You would’ve liked not to answer so fast. But you did.
She barely even managed to finish speaking before a nervous “yes” left your lips.
Toph and Sokka immediately giggled while Zuko and Aang sent you sympathetic looks, though neither of them looked much calmer themselves.
“Come here, then. Lay your back against my chest,” Katara instructed gently, though there was still firmness hidden beneath her soft tone.
You nodded quickly and shifted towards her, settling between her legs until your back rested against her chest comfortably.
“Tell me if it’s too much, alright?” she whispered near your ear.
Then you felt her hands slide downwards until they rested over your breasts beneath the dark green robe you were wearing.
Your breath hitched.
Katara hooked her fingers into the fabric and slowly dragged the material aside, exposing your bare breasts to the entire room. Cool air brushed against your skin immediately, making your nipples harden from the sudden loss of warmth.
Sokka whistled at the sight before Zuko nudged him hard in the side.
Aang stayed quiet, but his eyes were completely focused on your chest now.
“Nothing underneath?” Katara questioned with a knowing smile tugging at her lips.
“I— you all appeared out of nowhere— I didn’t have time—” you tried to explain quickly.
“She’s lying,” Toph interrupted with a grin.
Your face burned hotter as you looked down at your lap.
Katara raised a brow at you expectantly.
You took a deep breath as you closed your eyes, avoiding their eyes.
“I wore nothing on purpose,” you finally admitted on a quiet tone.
A moan instantly slipped from your lips when Katara’s hands squeezed your breasts, kneading the soft skin slowly.
“Oh,” she whispered against your ear. “Then maybe we’ll have to punish you for lying and for the other times you did things on purpose.”
Her fingers squeezed your nipples harder.
Then suddenly, you felt something freezing against your skin.
You jolted.
Looking down, you realized the tips of Katara’s fingers had turned icy cold, frost slowly forming against your heated skin. The sharp contrast made your entire body squirm in her lap.
She kept rubbing your nipples between her fingers, making shaky cries leave your throat from both the sting and pleasure of it.
“Mhm— ah!”
Your head fell back against her shoulder.
“Need some warmth?” she teased softly.
Before you could answer, you heard heavy footsteps approaching.
You lifted your head slightly and saw Zuko walking towards you before lowering himself onto his knees between your legs.
His large hands rested carefully against your knees first before slowly sliding upwards over your skin.
“That okay?” he asked quietly, eyes fixed on yours while waiting patiently for your answer.
You nodded automatically.
Katara immediately pressed colder fingers against your nipple in punishment for your non-verbal reply, making you jolt with a whimper.
“Yes! Yes, it’s okay— I’m sorry,” you gasped out quickly.
Zuko’s lips curled into a small teasing smirk before he slowly pushed aisde the material of your robes, completely revealing your legs along with your undergarments.
Then his palm slowly went between youe legs, pressing directly against your clothed core.
Your hips jerked forward instinctively at the warmth of his hand against your sensitive heat.
Katara’s lips brushed against your ear at the same time, making another shiver run through your body.
You had Katara’s cold hands on your breasts and Zuko’s warmth pressing down on you through the material, the contrast making your head spin.
You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t even notice Aang and Sokka stepping closer until they settled beside you on either side.
“Gonna help us out a little too, right?” Sokka asked with a grin.
“If you want to, of course,” Aang added with a soft voice, offering a nervous smile.
How could you even refuse them?
“I’d love—mhm— love to,” you say, a lot breathier than intended.
Sokka’s grin widened after hearing your reply. He then took your hand that rested on Katara’s leg, while Aang carefully lifted your other hand, fumbling slightly with his trousers.
Normally, you probably would’ve giggled at how awkward he looked for a second. But Zuko and Katara already had you dizzy from the overwhelming contrast of hot and cold sensations moving through your body.
You let both boys guide your hands where they wanted them, your eyes slightly widening when you saw them pulling out their half-hardened cocks.
Sokka was bigger than you expected, not overly thick but long enough to make your throat tighten. Aang was thicker, with more prominent veins running along his length, making you wonder how would it feel inside you.
Both of them were already leaking precum, feeling their wettnes the moment your fingers wrapped around them. Quiet hisses and groans filled the room as you started moving your hands slowly, thumbs spreading the slick fluid over their tips before stroking up and down carefully.
Sokka’s hand quickly caught your wrist, encouraging you to pump him faster, while Aang seemed to enjoy slower movements more.
So you tried your best to give both of them what they wanted.
But it was hard to stay focused.
Katara was still kneading your breasts like they belonged to her, earning soft whimpers from you every few seconds before icy jolts shot through your body whenever her cold fingertips brushed over your sensitive nipples too harshly.
At the same time, Zuko’s palm kept rubbing over your clothed core, thumb brushing your clit, pressing down and spreading his warmth all over, making your hips twitch forward helplessly.
When he finally stopped moving and pulled his hand away, you almost whimpered at the loss. But then your gaze dropped towards Toph, who was crawling towards you with a grin spread across her face.
“What—”
“Shh,” Katara cooed softly into your ear, her warm breath brushing your skin and making your heart race even faster. “It’s okay.”
Toph reached you and immediately pushed your legs apart wider while Zuko’s hand suddenly caught your chin, forcing your attention back onto him instead.
You blinked in confusion at first, only for your breath to catch when you realized he was freeing his cock too.
Slowly, carefully, he guided the tip against your parted lips.
“Just a little?” he asked, voice low as the tip brushed against your lower lip.
“Yes,” you breathed out quickly before Katara could punish you again for staying quiet.
That was all Zuko needed.
He pushed into your mouth too fast at first, making you gag immediately as tears burned at your eyes. He muttered a quick apology under his breath before pulling back slightly to let you breathe. Then he moved again, slower this time, more careful. Though you could still tell he wanted to go faster.
Your watery gaze dropped towards Toph, who was already pulling the rest of your clothes away completely. The second she exposed your cunt, her fingertips slid through your folds curiously before she chuckled softly at how wet you already were.
Your hips instinctively moved towards her touch, the sudden movement making you gag around Zuko again.
Toph only grinned wider at the sounds.
She lowered herself between your legs completely before hooking them over her shoulders.
Then her mouth was on you.
The first slow lick along your folds made your entire body shake. A second later, she sucked harshly at your clit, earning louder muffled cries from your throat around Zuko’s cock.
Katara kept whispering soft praises into your ear while stimulating your nipples relentlessly. They were probably swollen and red by now from how much attention she gave them, but the sting only turned you on more.
Your grip around Sokka and Aang loosened slightly as your focus completely shattered from all the sensations hitting you at once.
Zuko thrusting into your mouth.
Toph licking between your legs like she was starving.
Katara torturing your sensitive chest.
Sokka noticed immediately.
He firmly grabbed your wrist and guided your hand faster along his length, using your grip to help himself chase his release.
Aang stayed gentler instead.
He slowly rocked into your hand while one of his palms moved into your hair, carefully massaging your scalp and trying to comfort you despite how overwhelmed you already looked.
The room slowly filled with sounds.
Your muffled moans.
Sokka’s groans.
Aang’s shaky breaths.
Zuko’s rough grunts.
And the wet slurping noises coming from between your legs every time Toph sucked harder at your clit.
Meanwhile, Katara stayed steady behind you through all of it, paying attention to every reaction your body gave her. Every twitch. Every gasp.
Every tear gathering at your eyes whenever Zuko pushed too deep into your throat or Toph sucked your clit too harshly.
At one point, your eyes fluttered shut completely.
There were too many sensations at once. Too many hands touching you everywhere — your breasts, your waist, your stomach, your thighs.
“I’m close,” Zuko suddenly grunted.
Your eyes opened halfway.
Steam curled faintly from his skin and through his nose, while veins stood out sharply along his neck as his thrusts became rougher and sloppier.
Then, with a sharp breath, he finally pulled out and spilled over his own palm instead.
You inhaled deeply the second your mouth was free, finally able to breathe properly again—
—but the relief barely lasted two seconds.
Katara’s hand grabbed your chin firmly and turned your head towards her before she crashed her lips against yours.
The kiss instantly turned messy.
Teeth clashing. Lips biting.
Saliva slipping down your chin as she kissed you greedily, swallowing every shaky whimper that left your throat. At some point, her hand slid back down between your thighs, fingers pressing directly against your clit while Toph kept licking at your folds below.
Toph hummed against you, tightening her grip around your thighs.
You moaned louder, hips moving faster now until you were practically grinding your pussy against Toph’s face.
Your toes curled hard and a hot feeling started tightening inside your stomach, growing stronger with every touch, every movement, every hand on your body.
Then suddenly, another hand tilted your chin upwards.
Aang.
He lowered himself closer before pulling you into another kiss immediately after Katara let you go. You thought he would be a bit more composed, but with the way his tongue pushed into your mouth desperately… it was far from that.
Your hand still stroked him through the kiss, feeling him twitch harder and harder in your grip. He whimpered against your lips, both hands tangling into your hair as he pulled you closer.
The kiss quickly became sloppy and desperate. Then his whole body tensed suddenly.
You felt hot cum spill over your hand while his movements faltered completely. Small apologies left his lips between kisses, breathless and embarrassed.
You couldn’t help smiling faintly against his mouth.
But before the moment could last, another strong hand wrapped gently around your throat, pulling you away from Aang.
Then Sokka kissed you next.
He no longer needed help to finish as he did the work by himself since you were so lost in the moment.
Your jaw hurt and your lips were completely swollen because of the kissing. You were still trying to focus on reaching that feeling that felt so close.
You let out a moan as you let Sokka’s tongue leave your mouth, while your hips rose up to meet Toph faster. But before you can feel that sweet pressure finally snap, you heard Katara’s voice behindyou.
“Stop,” her voice came out strong and firm, making you shiver.
Toph’s movements slow down as she leans back, while Sokka’s mouth leaves yours.
“But—” you try to complain.
“Where would be the punishment if we let you get what you want?” she smiled at you, but her eyes gave you another message… one that stirred something in you. Something heavy and dark and… curious.
You’ve never thought you’d enjoy feeling so many hands on you, so many mouths, so many bodies… but you did, and you wanted to see how far this will go.
Katara patted your leg to get up, and you tried, but you almost fell due to your wobbly legs, yet Aang moved faster and caught you in his strong arms.
“Easy,” he whispered in your ear, making you look up at him, seeing how fond he was looking at you. He had that kind smile on his face.
Before you can even thank him, you heard Katara’s voice behind you, sending shivers down your spine.
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Your jedi master Anakin's got his head between your thighs.
It took some begging—from his side, not yours, and quite a few days of him warming you up to the idea before you finally allowed him down there.
But the sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.
You’ve had your own hand, and, well, his hand—but there’s nothing quite like his hot, wet mouth sliding over your soaked underwear.
It’s too much, seeing your master face first in your pussy, and your arm moves almost involuntarily to cover your eyes.
“Aht-aht,” he tuts, and you can hear the smile on his voice as he grabs each of your wrists to hold them to the bed by your hips. “You need to see what I’m doing.”
“Why,” you groan, embarrassment flooding your body at the way his voice hits a deeper register it never does outside of the bedroom.
“So you can tell that little boyfriend of yours how to do it right.”
“He’s not my—!” you start to object, losing the end of your sentence into nothing as he penetrates you with his tongue. You try to wriggle away, but his grip on you is steadfast, pinning you in place with your legs thrown over his shoulders.
The look in his eyes is all too familiar from your lessons as his Padawan: Quit, and you’ll never get to the good part.
But it’s like he’s tongue kissing your pussy, and you still don’t know how to feel about it.
You wish he was up here, nose to nose with you like usual, your knees pressed to your chest as he breathes into your mouth. It’s a small loss, easily forgotten, when he brings his hands back into play.
“Look at you,” Anakin croons, a smile on his lips like it’s all some joke you’ll never learn the punchline to. “So wet for me.”
And you’re still not quite sure if he’s talking to you, or to the part of your body he’s been giving all his attention to for the better half of an hour. You’re sure you’ve soaked the sheets below you at this point, not just because of the mixture of fluids he’s created between your thighs, but because of the sweat gathering at your lower back. Every time your legs begin to shake and you start babbling nonsense, Anakin pulls away, pulls you farther away from your orgasm. It’s a full body workout at this point.
“Please, Master,” you whine, asking for it like he’s not going to give it to you.
“So impatient,” Anakin replies, his eyes flashing as he raises his head, spitting back onto your folds.
“You’re teasing me,” you pout, yet Anakin’s indifferent—he’s done nothing but tease you for the past two years. He’d think by now that you’d be used to it.
“If you didn’t clearly like it so much, I’d stop.”
You open your mouth to argue, but Anakin’s not going to let you have the last word. Not now, not ever. His middle and ring fingers push into your entrance at the same time he tongues your clit, and the stretch, the overstimulation—it’s all too much.
Your back bows off of the bed as you come, your muscles spasming as pleasure positively fries your system, your hands now clenching at his, needing something, anything to hold onto.
He’s silent, watching you fall apart under him, and it’s not until later, that you’re half asleep with your head on his thigh that he mutters:
Ace in love with you, wasn’t exactly what you expected. But somehow, you grew used to it anyway.
You got used to the love letters he left when you were going to be apart for a while.
Or rather — the pile of half charred confessions that always smelled like smoke.
That’s what made them very Ace letters. He’d get so excited writing down how much he loved you that he’d accidentally set the paper on fire. And honestly, you never had the heart to complain.
You got used to him eating and talking at the same time, food stuffed in his mouth as he rambled.
“Ace! Chew with your mouth closed — talk after you swallow!”
He’d just grin, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, go quiet for a second… then shove more food into his mouth and continue just as loudly.
It became no surprise that after clearing his plate, he’d glance at yours with those hopeful eyes, silently begging you to say you were full.
And sometimes — even when you weren’t —you’d lie. You’d push the plate toward him just to see that excited, childlike joy light up his face again. Watching him eat like that warmed your heart more than any meal ever could.
You got used to the late night talks when it was cold. You’d curl up beside him, letting his hands warm your body as you spoke excitedly about your plans for the next island you’d dock at, your dream date, your little ideas and stories.
Only to glance over and realize he’d fallen asleep mid-conversation.
You were always this close to shaking him awake. But one look at that peaceful, soft smile — and the frustration melted.
His excuse?
“I just feel so comfortable with you… my eyes get heavy,” he’d say with a lazy grin.
You got used to how competitive he was. How stubborn he could get. Even over playfights.
A pillow fight? He’d swing like it was a final battle, feathers flying until the pillows became more stuffing than fabric.
Tickling? He’d keep going until you were breathless, clutching your stomach and crying from laughter while he shouted some ridiculous victory line.
You got used to how he flirted with you —constantly, shamelessly — but the second you flirted back more boldly, he’d go redder than his flames.
Ears flushed, eyes wide, trying so hard to play it cool as he muttered a flustered, “Shut up…” whenever you teased him for it.
But what you could never quite get used to?
The casual touches.
How he’d drape an arm around you while talking to someone else. How he’d absentmindedly stroke your hair while zoning out, completely unaware of how much it made your heart flutter. It was second nature to him — but for you, it was utterly distracting. Every single time.
You got used to it all. Every side of Ace. Every little quirk. Every flame, every fault, every fire sparked affection.
And most importantly — You fell in love with every single detail of him.
not that you’re complaining — how could you? especially since something has changed in recent months. something has become sticky, mushy, needy.
feelings. there are new feelings, but you both ignore the aforementioned sticky, mushy, needy feelings because you’re best friends, and best friends don’t have sticky, mushy, needy feelings for one another.
portgas d. ace is always hanging off you. his arm, freckled and strong, is always slung around your shoulders. he leans and slouches, pressing the full length of his body against your side whenever he can. he’s always there, in your orbit, tangling himself up in your space.
the crew knows that you, a vice-lieutenant shipwright, and the division commander are two peas in a pod; inseparable, indivisible, and integral. where his voice carries, your laughter is soon to follow. ace burns bright, like a star streaking across the sky, and you’re the moon he dances for. you call his name from high up on the mast, and he always calls yours back.
no one pities the fool portgas d. ace makes himself for the sake of your smile. no one pretends there isn’t something else there, either. marco thinks it’s gonna kill him — ace, with his longing looks, and you with your lingering smiles. always when the other isn’t looking, but for fuck’s sake, marco is looking. marco sees it. marco can’t unsee it.
feelings! sticky, mushy, needy feelings!
portgas d. ace, whose threshold for appropriate touching is quickly diminishing despite the whole best friend title. his newest, baddest habit is a sturdy kiss to your temple in passing — always paired with a murmured hey you. he’s recently started to tangle his fingers in yours during quiet moments up on deck. always during the setting sun, always when you’re off shift, and he’s avoiding whatever new responsibility pops throws him.
portgas d. ace, who starts sleeping in your bed — he blames the barracks. they’re too crowded. marco, his bunkmate, snores. you’re lucky, he says, you’ve got a tiny little cabin, with a tiny little bed, and a tiny little water room. a perk of being one of the few female crewmembers. the perk is stolen by ace, who starfishes out and runs hot. you start sleeping with less and less clothing, and ace chases the feeling of your skin against his in his sleep.
there’s a line. always. you’re best friends. best friends who touch and roughhouse and laugh. best friends who fall asleep in one another’s arms, best friends who knock foreheads together when they hug, best friends who daydream about kissing one another—
portgas d. ace is your best friend. best friends don’t kiss.
roommate!law parties too hard, penguin calls you to come get him.
sfw 𓂃 2.4k / modern au / med student!law / slightly ooc drunk law / fem reader / ft. shachi, penguin, + bepo !
law wasn't too keen on partying, really. he drank only on the occasion of celebrating his friends' birthdays. smoked after he had passed a stressful exam.
law doesn't dance.
"c'mon mannn." penguin dragged over the phone. "it'll be fun~ bepo is the d.d. tonight so mr. heart stealer can have some fun."
law verbally groaned and rubbed his forehead where his brows crinkled together. the last thing he wanted to do tonight was go to a party. but, he hadn't seen his friends since he moved in with you about 6 months ago. school and work consumed a majority of his time. surely he could let loose and see them.
"so what'll it be captain?" he heard shachi in the background.
"fine. only if we can get food. on penguin."
he heard the two chirp like birds on the other end of the phone. "see you then! i'll text you the address." law hung up the phone and slumped into the couch cushions with two hands engulfing his face.
"something wrong?" laws head shot up, startled. his face quickly returned to its resting state upon seeing it was just his roommate. his roommate whom he had ambiguous feelings about.
"no." law thought for a moment. "my friends are dragging me to a party tonight."
your face lit up in subtle delight.
"oh how fun! i hope you enjoy yourself."
"fun is an overstatement." law dragged.
you glanced at the clock, then the window, then at law. the apartment was still, peaceful as always. "you're in med school, working part time, and just moved. law, i think you deserve some quality time with your friends." you said earnestly. "no offense but the hard-working, uptight control freak types are usually the ones who need to let loose … speaking from experience." you cleared your throat.
law mentally scratched his head. what? he nodded, feigning understanding.
"yeah, you're probably right." you raised a brow and crossed your arms.
"probably?" law gulped. "no, you're right. you're right." satisfied, you carried on with your trek to the bathroom.
"have fun tonight. set me as your emergency contact if you need anything." laws heart stopped. emergency contact? the casual delivery of such a sincere gesture had law fighting demons. emotional, demons.
with a sleazy—borderline slutty—black button down and some illegally tight jeans, law gathered his wallet and keys and left the house.
. ˖ ꒰𑁬 ❤︎ ໒꒱ ˖ .
"holy shit man." penguin knelt over law with a hand on his back to support the stress being put on law's core muscles. law was situated hunched over the toilet. bepo nowhere in sight. shachi, wasted off his ass, clung to the deck outside.
"dude." law slurred. "i'm fine. i'm sooo fine."
"yeah, i'm sure the ladies are all over you but you need to sober up to some extent. we gotta get shachi home and i can't find bepo." penguin himself, was drunk. drunk enough to fail a breathalyzer test but, sober enough to know what the fuck was up. and right now it was time to leave.
"pen. buddy. i can drive," law slurred his words, "i'm awesome as fuck." penguin shook his head.
"real humble you are, captain." penguin searched for law's pockets.
"woah woah woah. you're not gonna take advantage of- of me" law hiccuped, "when i'm intoxicated? right? i don't know if i entirely swing that way-"
"no you fucking perv i'm trying to find your phone to call your roommate. surely she's home. hope she's not mad." penguin fumbled the device and quickly got a grip to open the lock screen.
"my roommate? fuckkk, no." Law banged his head over the seat of the toilet as he limbless wailed your name.
"dude she can't see me. 'm gonna throw up on her … her. her face. i'm gonna ruin her beautiful face dude." penguin raised his brow at law's confession. definitely going into the 'archive of all emotions law has expressed verbally' folder.
"wait! but- but she said she would be my emergency contact!" law leaned back, losing his balance and hitting his head with a loud thud on the wall opposite of the toilet. "this isn't an emergency pen." penguin scoffed, scrambled for the voice activation button to make a call.
the other line picked up after a few rings.
"hello?"
"who are you calling on my phone dude? it better not be cora. he's … he's gonna beat my ass. again." you heard from the other end in the background. penguin cleared his throat. "hi. this is penguin. i'm uh, law's friend and uhm. we kinda need someone to come get us. more specifically him. he's extremely drunk." penguin heard a giggle.
"bit off more than he could chew, huh?" you said in an tone that made penguin sit up straight. "mm okay, i'll be there soon. what's the address?" penguin relayed it to you and hung up. law was now curled up in a fetal position on the bathroom floor. cheeks flushed a subtle deep red that oddly suited him. chest on display from the several buttons that came undone. his eyes were closed as he hummed incoherent words.
. ˖ ꒰𑁬 ❤︎ ໒꒱ ˖ .
you shorty arrived and walked into the open backyard, looking for any figures that looked like your tall, brooding roommate. the drive wasn't too long.
"shachi! you can't drink that!" a man with a large cotton hat yelled as another man with a black and white hat reached for a vase placed above the mantle. "dude. why are you berating him? let … the guy be free. do whatever?" you followed the voice to see law slumped on the floor.
you approached the group of men.
"law?" all their attention went onto you. law looked up at you from the ground with large eyes. eyes that expressed something akin to adoration and fear. fucccccckkkkkk. penguin examined you. shachi's jaw fell to the floor, vase now the least of his concerns. he extended a hand toward you.
"and who are you?" he dragged and bowed as much as he could while trying to not lose his balance. you extended a hand toward him, giving his hand a firm shake that caught shachi by surprise. "law's roommate," you followed with your name. your eyes cautiously glared into his.
penguin and shachi exchanged glances at each other. looking at one another, then law, then each other again.
"shachi," he said back to close the introduction, "unfortunately, law hasn't told me much about you. especially didn't tell me much about you being a beautiful tall glass—." he fumbled over a few syllables.
penguin sighed heavily at his words.
"yes, he has. you knew his roommate was a girl." shachi smiled at him sleazily and propped his elbow onto penguin's shoulder, giving him a small shrug. "glad to know he's not suffering all by his lonesome now. got someone to keep him com—" shachi was cut off by a loud, hearty slap to his back and a chuckle from penguin. you looked over from the two to law on the floor. still holding the same gaze from when you first entered the scene.
"you okay?" you crouched down to examine his face. your posture hunched as you knees spread from the squat you were in. you head moved from side to side. law's eyes just followed you head, his empty, not a single thought in that empty dome.
"hey." you said sternly. snapped you fingers once. law is shaken out of his daze as he's brought back to earth. "hm? yeah! yeah. fine. good." law cleared his throat and hiccuped. law is not sober whatsoever.
"very well. let's get you home yeah?" you get up and extend a hand.
"can you even lift him? he weighs like a million pounds an- and is as tall as the empire state building."
"shachi we've never been to new york."
law hesitated to take your hand. he's regressed back to the state he was in when you first met. like a stray cat's temper being checked before being rescued.
"it's okay, law."
law felt a lump in his throat begin to form. dont. don't do anything stupid.
he reached out for you hand as you brought another forward to grab law's opposite arm, supporting him as much as your body allowed. law stumbled a bit as he found his footing. "is it okay for your other friend to stay here?" you turned you head to look at law's friends, hands still gripped firmly on law's bicep and heavy palm.
"yeah, bepo doesn't drink. he's probably catching up with others." penguin pondered.
you nodded.
"alright. you can follow me." surprisingly, you're able to help law walk to your car. the others followed in silence as law groaned about this that and the other. he mumbled incoherent nonsense followed by several 'i'm sorry's'.
. ˖ ꒰𑁬 ❤︎ ໒꒱ ˖ .
"hey." you said gently. you turned your head to look back at law in the backseat. his head is turned into the window, large body slumped toward the door. he whined in acknowledgement.
"we're home, law." you got out of the car. you slowly opened the door that law's drunken body leaned on, careful to prevent him from rolling out of the car and onto the floor. the weight of his body heavy on the door.
you caught him in a quick clutch. your hand landed on his oblique while you attempted to press him upward.
"hey, easy now. slow." you assured.
law tried his best to regain his composure but he had no idea where he was at right now.
all he knew was that there was a beautiful woman touching him and he never wanted it to stop. law grumbled, a noise adjacent to a low pur left his lips. "don't wanna."
you're taken by surprise and caught off guard by the change in behavior. law, your stoic, surgeon-to-be, control freak roommate with more pride than a noble heir, was whining like a child and moping like a pathetic wounded animal.
"law." you warned. he didn't budge.
"just let me … let me be," he hummed and drawled on, "whatever you want me to be."
you furrowed your brow and halted your movements. you shook your head and gave one final, last push to get law standing. "you're drunk. can you walk?"
"no." he shot out quickly. you panicked.
"need you to carry me." your panic was short lived. a long, deep exhale left your nose.
"you ... are 200 lbs of muscle and you want me to carry you." you voiced your thoughts even though you knew you were essentially talking to a brick wall. a scoff left your lips.
law hummed again for the umpteenth time that night. you felt like a zoo keeper handling a stubborn, clingy tiger. you were fed up but there was something endearing about seeing law like this. you should've known what you signed up for when you offered to be his emergency contact.
the two of you stood there for a moment. the smell of tonka 25 and alcohol permeated the air around you. law was practically shirtless with how many buttons were undone, the warmth of his bare skin radiated off his alcohol-filled body. the top you were wearing didn't do much for saving skin contact.
law ducked his head into the crook of your neck, soft breaths fanned over your skin. you wanted to bask in the moment a little more than you'd like to admit but his warm body combined with the heat of the warm spring night made your skin crawl. you needed to get him into the elevator and into your shared apartment.
"law."
law lazily raised his head. he felt like it weighed a million tons. "yeah."
you squatted down ever so slightly to push his body up against the car. the door adjacent was still open.
"stand."
like a solider, law's body stood straight, sleazy grin on his face. "yes ma'am." it still had little to no tautness given how his head bowed back to look down at you through his lower lashes and hooded eyes. oh now he was just pissing you off.
you playfully shoved his body away to close the door, a hand gripped his bicep firmly to ensure he wouldn't fall over. law stumbled a bit and groaned. "what was that for?" a look of utter confusion on his face. it was goofy.
"for being an ass to your oh so kind savior that's what." you locked the door and dragged him by his arm towards the complex elevator like a mother dragging her child off the playground. law didn't argue. he just smiled like an idiot with heavy eyes.
you arrived at your apartment and helped him take his shoes off. luckily his leather boots had zippers. law groaned about how he could do it himself but you didn't want to hear another word out of him tonight.
"drink this." you poured law a glass of water and handed it to him. he stood there with a blank face. law just ducked his head down from where he stood. lips met the rim of the glass as he drank. "you gotta be joking."
law looked up at you from his position above the glass and continued to drink. you grabbed his hand with the hand of yours that wasn't occupied and clasped it around the cup.
"grown ass man." you walked toward the counter to fetch a banana for law as well. you peeled it before giving it to him. this time, you grabbed his empty hand and forced it to take the banana. "you can eat by yourself, i'm sure."
law slowly began to sober up but that wasn't to say he was completely void of his idiotic state. he threw the banana peel away and set the glass by the sink. he stumbled like a baby giraffe but he still did it.
while he was in the kitchen, you invaded his bedroom in search for comfortable clothes. there's no way he would let you live the next day knowing you let him sleep on his bed in his outside-clothes. you settled for sweatpants and a shirt with a circular logo on it. it oddly resembled a face.
law made it to his room. you shoved the clothing into law's chest and looked at him with what was supposed to be a threatening stare but it only made law chuckle.
"change."
he began unbuttoning the rest of the buttons on his shirt without a second thought. you groan and leave the room. "goodnight."
. ˖ ꒰𑁬 ❤︎ ໒꒱ ˖ .
safe to say the next day you woke up to a cup of coffee prepared just the way you liked and apology-pastries on the counter. of course law didn't give them to you though. he avoided you as much as possible even though his schedule was free today. law remained locked up in his room thinking about the irreversible damage he's done on his image.
a/n ⋮ heard from a nurse i know that doctors party hard but partied even harder in med school . . . i knew i had to ponder drunk law hehe. i hope you enjoyed ! i love writing my silly little self-indulgent modern au roommate law. thank you so much for reading ♡
- ❝request; You're shorter than your man, too short to reach for a kiss unless you tiptoe, tug on his collar and have him lean down for you, that is.❞
˚₊‧꒰ა Tags ໒꒱ ‧₊˚: Suggestive themes, fluff, teasing, short!reader; SFW. Reader is she/her. 𓂃۶ৎ wc: 300 for each seperate fic, roughly.
₊˚ʚ Characters/status: Rob Lucci, Sir Crocodile, Trafalgar D. Water Law, Donquixote Doflamingo, Roronoa Zoro (established relationship ˖ ໒꒱)
❝ ᝰ.ᐟ note: Oda make Mlem and Lucci canon already, thanks! >ᴗ<❞
Rob Lucci 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃
He gave you a brow. Hands in his pocket, wearing a dark suit and watching you with darker eyes.
“Have you no dignity?” His voice is flat, cold but you don’t care.
You keep tiptoeing, lips still pouting and hands fisting his shirt. Pulling him. “Robbie… please, just one kiss.”
His brow line creases. Half-offended. “Don’t… call me that.”
You hum, going back to your feet. Pouting.
He’s not indulging you. Not moving one inch to kiss your lips.
Fine then.
It’s war.
You’ll nag him till he gives in.
“Luuuuci, pleaseee,” you whine out and he sighs through his nose as you keep tiptoeing up.
No answer. Just condescension seeping through his gaze.
You keep tugging, whining and only when you hear Kaku’s voice calling you both from a distance do you stop. Glancing to the source of his echo. And when you let go of Rob’s collar, eyes drifting away to the distance and heels padded fully on the floor—does he place a hand on your jaw, sliding your face to meet his gaze.
And you blink.
long, dark hair trail down your face. Tickling your shoulders, as one smooth motion of his hand slide down your hips to the small of your back, bringing you up to meet his lips.
Rob’s calloused fingers digs into your flesh, forcing a whine to leave your mouth, which he seals with a kiss. muffling you.
And the kiss is not soft but raw—pushing, claiming, forcing you to lean back so to retain footing but his hand on your jaw has made its way to the back of your hair. Forcing you deeper into his kiss.
And when Kaku’s footsteps trudge closer, only then does Rob part from you—lips clicking, strings of saliva between your tongue as he straightens himself, and your cheeks burn at the sight of his face.
Smug, cocky and entirely pleased with himself.
Jerk.
Sir Crocodile 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃
Sir Crocodile was giving you a look… quite similar from what he gives that tardy clown except there is a hint of amusement in it. But only a hint.
You were pulling on his vest, frowning.
It’s been ten whole minutes and he’s not budging.
Meanie.
“Sir… please.”
He gives you a brow, a corner of his grin going up.
“Please, what?”
Your cheeks burn flushed. “You know what.”
He tilts his head to the side, ash falling off his cigar. “No, I don’t. Indulge me.”
Your knuckles clenches, tugging at the fabric of his shirt.
He’s taunting you! What a rude little….
“You look like you’re about to explode, need a hand with anything?”
“You—…” You bite your tongue, trying to tiptoe even higher, pull his shirt even harder.
You start growing frustrated and embarrassed, but he’s been so handsome the whole day, you can’t imagine yourself leaving without kissing him—but it’s been a whole ten minutes, and still! He’s not budging.
The frustration starts to make you teary, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt so hard you feel like you’re going to tear it off of him and only then—when your eyes start glaze with tears, and your breathing starts growing hot with fury, does he lean in.
Arms unfolding. One last smoke taken before the cigar is dropped to the ground. Hook landing around your waist, tugging you closer as he grabs your ass, ringed fingers digging into the soft of your flesh as he lifts you up by the back.
Meeting his lips.
The kiss is soft, faint—until you press deeper, further, growing desperate enough that his tongue skims over your lips. Your heart starts beating out of your chest, hard and erratic as the kiss grows hotter, heavier, wet sounds escaping you both.
And when he parts? Setting you down by the ground?
It’s all smugness and adoration.
His larger hand making it to the side of your face.
“Be a good girl and fetch a new cigar in my jacket for me.” his voice rasps, thumb rubbing your lower lip.
And that’s all he has to offer for you to pad across the room. Face completely burnt.
Trafalgar D. Water Law 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃
“What are you doing.”
“What does it look like, Law!?” You huff out, toes starting to ache as you try and tiptoe further up. And Law looks at you like he should take pity on you or mock you completely.
“Law, please, just—”
“Just what?” He muses, smirk coming into place and your cheeks burn.
“Please. Just, one kiss,” your voice comes out soft, too soft and it makes him want to tease you harder.
“Why should I? Last time I checked, you called me a jerk.”
“That was two days ago!”
“And still no apology.”
You clutch onto his collar with both of your hands, trying to tug him down but he’s not budging, and the smug grin of his isn’t either.
“please Law…”
“go on, please what?”
Your brows pull, face turning into fire, “Please, I'm sorry… Can you kiss me?”
Law tilts his head, the expression he wears on his face is untelling—the grin hasn’t dropped, the cockiness as prevalent as ever and your heart beats into a storm at the sight of it. Knuckles clenching, cheeks sizzling and brows pulled hard enough to form a vein. And just when you think he’ll mock you once more, do you feel his hands land on your shoulders, sliding down your ribs, slow and streaming—landing under your butt, lifting you off your feet.
the gap closes and the friction of clothes grinding between one another makes you arch, as he lands his mouth on yours.
Pushing, claiming, and you feel his tongue skimming over yours—and on instinct—you suck.
The kiss grows hot, wet; saliva and groans exchanging between you two, parting only to breathe.
For a moment, Law only looks at you.
Taking in your features.
Breath hot on your face, and something soft settles in his gaze.
His voice low, almost a mumble under his breath and you barely catch it.
“Pretty.”
You blink. “What—?”
He kisses you again. Pushing your ass even further up, and you whine into it.
Yeah.
You two are going to be kissing for a good while.
Donquixote Doflamingo 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃
He was being a mean, rude, cocky, snobby and a barbarous little shitbird about your situation.
And it makes you seethe, hands tugging onto the pink feather of his coat.
Pulling, yanking, face fuming with frustration as you stare up his stupid handsome face.
“Doffy… please, just lean down.”
He has the audacity to snort out loud and you scoff, offended.
Your cheeks burn into fire, swallowing your pride—you’re not giving up, not yet.
“You’re mean.” You huff and he takes a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it.
“Yeah? If I’m so mean, the why are you beggin’ for a kiss, hmm?”
You pull out the trump card. “Because I love you.”
And he freezes.
You decide to go in for the kill — you give him that doe eyed look, the coquettish, begging one. “Please Doffy.” Your voice is soft, pleading, “Just one, it’s all I want.”
Doflamingo flicks your hair from his fingers, hand grabbing your jaw, as he leans down—slamming his mouth into yours.
And the taste of wine, cocktails, pineapple juice and corruption seeps all into you; his tongue sloshes over yours. Wet, hot and messy as he forces you deeper into it, possessive hands travelling down your waist and latching onto your hips. Hoisting you up.
The kiss starts growing sloppy; clicking sounds and moans slipping every time you tilt into a new angle.
And when you part, its only to breathe, huff and ground yourself. Head dizzy. Doflamingo’s forehead nudging yours.
“You love me, huh? Then you have no one to blame but yourself.” He grins, and it’s not sweet or adoring, no—it’s got wickedness written all over it; but you know what’s worse?
He is right. This is no one’s fault, but your own.
Roronoa Zoro 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃
You were practically doing mini jumps to get to this man.
Tiptoeing. Neck arching. Hands tugging his collar as he gives you a long, long stare.
Arms crossed.
“Zoro.”
“No.”
You tug his shirt. “Zoro!”
“No.”
“Please!”
“Still; no.”
This is how it has been between you two for ten minutes.
You’ve been trying to steal a kiss, he’s been watching your failed attempts with the most aloof, most unbothered, most ‘this-gotta-be-a-joke-but-I-also-dont-want-it-to-end-just-yet’ face ever.
You were leaning forward, he was leaning back.
“You’re not giving me a chance!”
“So?” He gives you a brow and your face pulls into a frown. Cheeks starting to burn.
“Lean down. Please.”
Zoro blinks, slowly, before eventually tilting his head to the side, a cocky smirk coming into place.
“Sure.”
You regain some hope, tiptoeing further up, straining yourself even.
“Really!?”
“Yeah. if you beg.”
At that, your face sullen once more.
“I’ve been begging.”
“Yeah? Well, I guess you don’t want to kiss me that badly then—” He unfolds his arms, moving away and you panic. Latching harder onto him.
“Please!” You tug him towards you, ignoring the widening grin on his face.
“Please, please kiss me, please it’s all I want. Just one.”
“You want it that bad huh?”
You swallow your pride, and nod.
And at that, he scoffs. Hands going to your ass, groping, squeezing as he lifts you off the ground, his crotch grind against yours, fabric causing friction between one another as he hoists you further up—meeting his lips.
Soft. Sweet.
Lips clicking when he parts.
And he gives you a smaller smile, “Happy?”
“As if.” You lock your arms over his shoulders, bringing you two into a kiss once more.
And this time, it’s deeper, longer and messier. you have decided to reap your reward to the fullest.
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pro tip: don't talk bad about yourself in front of sukuna | mdni suggestive
to say sukuna doesn't like when you disrespect yourself would be untrue, because he doesn't even let you get that far. you're his, which means when you talk bad about yourself, you're offending him too.
he'll slap your ass as he passes by you getting a bowl of fruit in the kitchen, in nothing but one of his shirts and an old pair of pj shorts, hair a mess. he lets out a "fuck, don't tempt me right now," his eyes scanning you from head to toe with that familiar heat in them.
your brows furrow in confusion and you literally go to the bathroom to look in the mirror to check that your appearance didn't magically ameliorate from the last time you saw yourself. he follows you and you're almost offended when you look in the mirror. is he playing a prank on you?
"what? i literally look-"
his hand comes to grab your throat gently but firm, a brow raised as he stares down at you and then through the mirror. "you look what?" his gaze is daring you to say something negative.
you can feel that he's not joking. you swallow, "um, good?"
he hums satisfied and pulls you closer, bending down to kiss you, the way his tongue smoothly finds its way into your mouth has heat spreading through your body.
he pulls back and looks you over again appreciatively, smushing your cheeks playfully before walking away. "s'what i thought."
Ryomen Sukuna was having the kind of day that made him want to commit a felony.
Work had been an absolute, unmitigated disaster. His clients were being brain-dead idiots, his emails had been piling up since 6:00 AM, and his boss had the audacity to drop a massive, last-minute project on his desk right as he was packing up to leave. By the time he finally unlocked the front door to your shared apartment, his jaw was clenched so tight his teeth ached. He was exhausted, he was pissed off, and he was fully prepared to pour himself a massive glass of whiskey and not speak to a single soul for the rest of the night.
He pushed the door open, dropping his keys into the bowl by the entrance with a loud, aggressive clatter. He shrugged off his suit jacket, loosening his tie with a harsh yank.
“I’m home,” he called out, his voice a low, gravelly grumble.
He expected you to be in the kitchen, or maybe curled up on the couch watching some trashy reality TV show. He expected you to ask him how his day was, which would inevitably lead to him ranting for twenty minutes straight.
Instead, there was silence.
Sukuna frowned, his bad mood spiking just a fraction. He walked down the hallway and stepped into the living room.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, hunched over the coffee table. The entire surface was completely covered in hundreds of microscopic, brightly colored plastic bricks. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, your hair tied up in a messy bun that was slowly falling apart.
But the best part? The absolute most ridiculous, endearing part?
You were squinting so hard your nose was scrunched up, and the very tip of your tongue was poking out of the corner of your mouth in pure, unadulterated concentration. Your fingers, which were currently trying to snap a tiny, translucent green piece onto a microscopic brown cylinder, were trembling slightly from the effort.
You hadn’t even heard him come in. You were entirely, completely consumed by your task.
Sukuna stood there in the doorway, his suit jacket dangling from his fingers. He didn’t say a word. He just watched you.
You were a serial hobbyist. Every month, it was something new. Knitting, painting by numbers, making weird little clay frogs that currently haunted his nightstand. He usually just rolled his eyes, funded your little hyper-fixations, and let you do your thing.
But this? This tiny, intricate Lego flower shop you had apparently bought today? It had you in a chokehold.
Snap.
The tiny green piece finally clicked into place.
You let out a massive, dramatic gasp of victory, throwing your hands up in the air like you had just won the Super Bowl. “Yes! Take that, you stupid little plastic bitch!”
Sukuna let out a sudden, loud snort.
You jumped, spinning around so fast you nearly knocked over a pile of pink bricks. When you saw him standing there, your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. The sheer, radiant joy on your face was blinding.
“Babe!” you squealed, scrambling up onto your knees. You carefully scooped up the tiny, completed structure in your hands and held it out toward him like it was the Holy Grail. “Baby, look! Look what I did!”
Sukuna slowly walked over, dropping his jacket onto the sofa. He looked down at your hands.
It was a tiny, incredibly detailed Lego flower shop. And sitting right in front of it was a single, slightly lopsided plastic rose that you had clearly customized.
“I made you this one,” you beamed, your chest puffing out with pride. You were practically vibrating with excitement. “It’s for your desk at work! Because you said your office is depressing! Do you like it?!”
Sukuna stared at the tiny plastic flower. Then, he looked at you.
You had a faint smudge of left over dinner on your cheek. Your oversized shirt was slipping off one shoulder. You were looking up at him with such pure, unfiltered adoration and excitement over a piece of plastic that it actually knocked the breath out of his lungs.
And just like that, it happened.
The stress of the last fourteen hours? Gone. The anger at his clients? Evaporated. The tension in his shoulders, the pounding headache behind his eyes, the overwhelming urge to burn his office building to the ground? It all just melted away, completely washed out by the sheer force of your ridiculous, beaming smile.
He didn’t just love you. That wasn’t a strong enough word anymore.
He looked at you, sitting on the floor surrounded by plastic bricks, offering him a fake flower to make his bad day better, and a single, crystal-clear thought rang through his head like a bell.
I need to marry this girl.
Not ‘I want to.’ Not ‘someday.’ Need. He needed to marry your crazy ass. He needed to lock this down permanently, because if he had to go through the rest of his miserable, stressful life without coming home to you poking your tongue out over a Lego set, he was going to lose his fucking mind.
“Sukuna?” you blinked, your smile faltering just a little when he didn’t immediately respond. You lowered your hands slightly. “Do you… not like it? I know it’s kind of dumb, but—”
“Shut up,” he breathed, his voice thick.
Before you could even process the command, he dropped to his knees right in front of you, completely ignoring the fact that he was crushing at least ten Lego pieces under his expensive suit pants.
He reached out, his large hands gently cupping your face. He didn’t even look at the flower shop. His red eyes were locked entirely on yours, burning with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.
“Babe?” you whispered, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. “Are you okay? Was work bad?”
“Work was a fucking nightmare,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. “But I don’t care anymore.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. He let out a long, shaky exhale, the last of his stress leaving his body. “I love it, baby. It’s perfect. I’m putting it right in the middle of my desk.”
Your smile instantly returned, brighter than before. “Really?!”
“Really,” he chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your skin. He tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a slow, desperate kiss. It wasn’t heated or rough; it was incredibly soft, filled with a kind of overwhelming reverence that made your toes curl.
When he finally pulled back, he kept his face inches from yours. He looked down at your lips, then back up to your eyes.
“I’m gonna marry you,” he said.
It wasn’t a proposal. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of absolute, undeniable fact. He said it casually, like he was commenting on the weather, but the weight behind his words was heavy enough to anchor a ship.
Your brain short-circuited. You sat there, frozen, the tiny Lego flower shop still clutched in your hands. “What?”
“You heard me,” he smirked, his usual arrogant confidence bleeding back into his tone. He leaned in and pressed a loud, wet kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then the sensitive skin just below your ear. “I’m gonna marry your crazy ass. Put a ring on your finger so big you won’t be able to lift your hand to build these stupid little toys.”
“They’re not stupid!” you squawked, your face flushing bright red as his words finally registered. “And you can’t just drop that on me while I’m holding a Lego!”
“I just did,” he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest, completely ruining your posture. He buried his face in your neck.
You let out a breathless, watery laugh, carefully setting the flower shop down on the table before wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. You ran your fingers through his pink hair, feeling the last of the tension bleed out of his muscles.
“Okay,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Okay, Ryomen.”
“Good,” he mumbled against your skin. He shifted slightly, his knee crunching against a pile of plastic. He winced. “Now, help me up. I think a fucking Lego is embedded in my kneecap.”
summary: After being ignored by your partner Marco because the infirmary is in busy season, you decide to take matters into your own hands. That might have been a bad idea.
minors dni
You were in big trouble.
You knew why of course, in fact, you had purposely been teasing and tormenting your poor First Division Commander all day while she was swamped with work and couldn't respond. That didn't quell the rising excited terror bubbling in your stomach as Marco hoisted you over her shoulder and began striding towards her room.
A strong, firm hand grasped your ass and you wiggled a little in excitement as her grip quickly turned punishing. You didn't even try to make out the hallways of the Moby Dick or the people you were passing, everything fading into a blur of wood and fabric as you squirmed in Marco's hands in a mock show of getting out of her grip. You couldn't just give up on your torment once you were caught, that would be too easy.
Before long, Marco stopped, pushing open a door and going inside. The familiar scent of the First Mate's room filled your nose, the excited-nervous knot in your stomach tightening.
You shivered in anticipation, after so long without relief — as Marco had forbidden you from touching yourself without her permission and while you were just fine with breaking most of her rules, it only took one time being put into the chastity belt for a week to follow that rule perfectly. So instead you pushed at the edge of the rules, trying to goad Marco's restraint into snapping so she would fuck you.
You were unceremoniously dumped onto her bed, immediately scrambling up to try and escape, but you didn't even get part way off of the bed before Marco was grabbing you again, this time, manhandling you over her lap, a strong hand pinning you in place unable to do much more than squirm.
"Stay still, yoi," Marco scolded, hand briefly digging into the fat of your ass, which was presented deliciously on her lap. Just to tick her off a bit more, in for a penny in for a pound as they say, you let out a little moan, fluttering your eyelashes in case she could see.
She sighed, an exasperated, tired sound, but you could detect the tiny traces of fondness in her voice. You grinned to yourself, loving the effect you had on the usually collected woman.
Your smile was wiped off of your face when the first smack landed on your ass, the force dampened by the clothes you still had on but that didn't mean it didn't sting. You hadn't realized you had yelped in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden hit, until Marco chuckled softly.
"So you can stay still, birdie. Good to know I won't have to restart your training from scratch." She pet at your still clothed ass, your thighs clenching together as you anticipated a strike that never came.
"Tease," You hissed, gritting your teeth together. That was totally unfair! Marco usually loved to tell you just how much punishment you had incurred before she started, letting the fear-arousal ramp up as the knowledge, so you truly weren't expecting her to start your punishment so fast.
"I'm a tease?" She asked in a tone that made it clear she wasn't really asking, "Well then what you could be when you wore no panties in the busy infirmary all day today, bending over at every opportunity to show off your pussy like a needy slut?"
"That's different," You protested, although your words lacked any conviction, she was right you just refused to give in just yet, she'd need to work more for that. You always eventually gave into her, but it was no fun if you lost the game too fast.
"Is it, yoi?" You could practically hear the amused lift of her eyebrows in her voice, but you nodded your head anyway. She hummed to herself, quickly ripping your thin transparent tights and skirt off of your body until your bottom half was completely exposed to Marco, goosebumps prickling at your skin from the cool air now sweeping across your skin.
"Well then," She mused, tapping her fingers against your bare skin, "I suppose you'll just be punished for being a whore, not a tease instead, yoi."
Your head spun, trying to figure out what that meant, if you were going to get off lightly today — though you doubted it — or if you had just made your punishment worse by mouthing off to Marco.
But before you could get lost in your own head, mulling over the options, Marco made her move. She rained down a series of slaps on your bare ass, the stinging pain leaving you breathless with your mouth parted. You panted, Marco seeming to let you catch your breath before she continued your punishment or was it to cause fearful anticipation for when she would strike next, you didn't know but both options had your lower stomach tightening.
This time when Marco struck you, she focused on one area, making sure that you would be bruised for days after your punishment. You shivered at the thought of the ache, the pain of sitting down, of having to hie your expressions at mealtimes for as long as the bruises took to heal.
Marco spread your legs a little, shoving your hands in between your thighs to swipe two fingers through your folds. It was only then that you realized you were wet, practically dripping onto Marco's thighs and the bedsheets. You bit your lip as embarrassment welled up in your chest, as much as you knew in your head that being spanked got you off, it was always embarrassing to be reminded of that fact in the middle of a punishment.
"What's this, yoi?" Marco dangled her slick fingers in front of your face, grabbing your jaw when you tried to look away, "You do know this is supposed to be a punishment, right birdie? Or are you just so depraved you'll get off on discipline?"
You opened your mouth to retort, to try and save some semblance of your dignity even though you knew it was futile, but were cut off by your own yelps and moans as Marco smacked you again, harder this time, shivers running up and down your body uncontrollably at the sensation.
This time she didn't let up for a long while, striking your ass with her bare hand until you were a whimpering, shaky, mess in her lap, voice cracking on moaned pleads for mercy, of which she'd never give.
"Are you ready to apologize now?" A comforting hand running up and down your spine, and you fought against the shaking of your body, flooded with arousal, to open your mouth.
"Mommy," You whined, begging for something but you were unsure of what that something really was. You wanted her to stop, you wanted her to continue the punishment, you wanted to cum, you just couldn't put any of it to words. You shifted your thighs, the ache intensifying pleasurably, and you were suddenly aware of how close you were to cumming, you just needed a little more, the coil of your arousal tight in your stomach.
"Yes, birdie?" Her voice was calm again now, the very picture of the First Division Commander that everyone else saw, "What do you want from Mommy?"
You struggled, hips twitching down to Marco's leg in a desperate attempt to get some friction, to maybe topple yourself over the edge without help but Marco stopped you with another slap, this time to the tops of your thighs.
"Use your words." She scolded. You could sob, and maybe you were crying you weren't really sure, it was so hard to talk, to think about what you needed.
"Please," You wailed, barely gathering together the brain power to make a coherent sentence, the ache between your legs and on your ass diverting most of your attention. You clawed at the bed in front of you, desperate for something to ground you
Finally you were able to gasp out, squirming around desperate for contact, "Mommy, I need to cum."
"Oh birdie," She patted your ass in mock sympathy, "You didn't earn the right to cum tonight, yoi." This time you were sure you were crying, sobs catching at your throat before tumbling out of your lips, burying your face in the bedsheets.
"Please," Your voice cracked, muffled even to your own ears.
"If you're a good girl tomorrow, you can cum but you better be on your best behavior." Marco talked as if she didn't hear your plea, but you knew she did, her ears some of the best in the crew.
She picked you up in her lap, settling you against her shoulder, and you curled into her, greedily soaking up the physical contact even as your neglected pussy leaked onto her lap and your ass ached painfully from the position you were sitting in.
Marco pressed a kiss to your forehead before scooping you up to carry you to the bathroom, settling you on the counter, your sore red ass a stark contrast to the cool stone you were sitting on.
Soft sniffles and whimpers still fell from your lips as you pouted up at Marco, hoping that she would feel pity and let you cum but all she did was wipe away your tears with a damp towel before beginning to wipe you clean.
She paid special attention to your pussy, careful not to provide you any of the stimulation you so craved while cleaning you up. A pitiful whine slipped out of your mouth but Marco was gracious enough to pretend to not hear it, you weren't in complete control of yourself in that head space.
Your hands twitched, curling into the soft fabric of Marco's shirt, needed it to ground you as the clashing sensations of arousal-pain-chill wracked your body. She allowed that comfort, your punishment was already over after all, and you loved to cling to her for comfort after sex.
"Come on birdie, let's go to bed yoi," She picked you back up, seeming to know that your legs were too wobbly still to support your weight before walking back to her big comfortable nest of a bed.
She tucked you in first and you wordlessly reached out to her, trying to tug Marco into bed next to you. Marco slipped into bed and you immediately were curled up in her arms, the adrenaline from provoking her and getting punished fading into exhaustion, fueled by the soft pillow under your head and the warm body next to you.
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Benn Beckman always gives you his full attention. Always. Grey eyes tracking every expression you make, focused as if you were briefing him on the New World order while you ramble on for whatever reason.
He's the most in-demand man in the Red Force; without him, emperor Shanks wouldn't be the man he is, and the crew never stops reminding him of it. "Hey Becks, the cannon's busted", or "Beck, we need more flour", or "Beck, we're out of anesthesia and the cap'n fainted", or the occasional "Beeecks, we're being bombarded, looks like a whole Marine fleet out there". But none of it moves him. Not when you're talking to him. His eyes stay on yours, and his lips never tighten around his cigarette in a pull of impatience.
"Alright darlin', don't you worry. As soon as we make port we'll find you another dress in your size, aye?" he says once you're done.
"Thank you, Becks."
"Anytime, love," he rasps, winking at you in that way that always makes you giggle
"Give me a sec, alright love?" He smiles, thick fingers tapping you lightly under the chin to ask for your forgiveness. "These lot won't leave me alone."
"Of course, Becks."
His smile holds just long enough before he turns to find Yasopp looking at him with apologetic eyes.
