Chubby girls have been on the dash today, so here’s a contribution before I go for my hike…
Are we really going to act like Dabi isn’t the skinny alt boy who’s obsessed with thick girls…? The guy who puts it as the first (and only) thing in his tinder bio? The one who whistles and grips the fat on your hips and ass every time you even just brush by him?
He sees you in t-shirts, pajamas, anything with that little hint of belly hanging out… and he turns into an animal; unable to take his eyes off you for more than two seconds, giving Shigaraki, Twice, all of them, any excuse he can think of just so he can follow you like a dog back to your room… shoving his boot in between the door and the frame right before you close it, that smirk on his lips.
He always slinks in behind you, throwing himself on your bed and patting his lap, brushing off any and all surprise by calling you “pretty baby,” and “dolly…” and if you do manage to kick him out (which is an impressive feat in and of itself), immediately proceeds to send you poorly-lit dick pics in the hopes that you throw him any kind of bone instead.
Tits falling out of your bra, the creased backs of your thighs next to black panties, even a shot of your pretty pussy… if you’re not already sitting on him, he’s okay with it all, and has to adjust his pants at even the thought of marking your chubby and soft skin up.
Is he any nicer to you than usual? Mmm, no… but who said you wanted him to be?
He would still bend over backwards for a thick girl.
↳ Warnings/Themes: Mature (🔞). Smut. PWP. Unprotected P in V. Spread Eagle. Not-proofread.
↳ Pairing: BND!Peter Parker x F!Reader
↳ Words: 2851
↳ Summary: Your boyfriend returns from patrol beaten and bloodied and with a new attitude.
☁️: Walked out of the movie wet as hell. The scene that this picture is from... yeahhhh. So, here we are. First time writing for Marvel / Spidey so be nice pleaseeee. There's no real spoiler warning, as the fic is based on the image from the trailer. ❤︎
General Masterlist here. Peter Masterlist here.
Through the noise of the New York night moving below, something hits your bedroom window hard enough to rattle the glass and drag you out of your sleep. Another loud tap follows before the room falls quiet again. The traffic outside carries on as though nothing happened, and the silence inside your room stretches on long enough that you being to wonder if you'd imagined it.
Still caught somewhere between sleep and consciousness, you instinctively reach for your phone. It takes a couple of seconds of blinking against the harsh glare of the phone before the numbers come into focus. 03:17. No missed calls or texts.
You let your head fall back against the pillow, your eyes already drifting closed as sleep begins to pull you back under again. It's only then, just as you're comfortable, that the next sound tears through your bedroom.
Your bedroom window, old and creaky, is slid open. The curtains stir as something, a big something, slips past them. There are no footsteps or creaks of the floorboards to prove it happens, just the rustle of the curtains as more breeze flies through.
"...P–Peter."
The name slips from your mouth before your mind has even fully caught up. It has to be him, he's the only person reckless enough to slip in at three in the morning, and the only one who would consider your fourteenth story window as a perfectly reasonable front door, despite having a key.
There's no response, so you reach for the lamp. A soft, yellow glow fills the bedroom, your eyes taking another second to adjust before immediately settling on the wall.
Peter's halfway up your bedroom wall, crouched close to the ceiling with his weight resting on his feet. He has one hand on the opposite wall, as if he needs it to keep him balanced.
He's still not turned to look at you, opting to watch the city through the gap the wind creates in the curtains. One shoulder in his suit has been ripped almost clean off, exposing bruised skin beneath streaks of drying blood. There's more dried blood along the side of his face, disappearing beneath his jaw and into the collar of his suit. Fresh crimson still trickles from a cut above his eyebrow, his curls clinging damply to his forehead.
You chew your bottom lip as you take him in. It's become the norm for him to crawl through your window at night after patrol, but never this late and never looking this banged up. Dating Spider-Man has its perks but now it brings you an uncomfortable swirl in your stomach.
"Pete?"
When he finally looks over to you, the breath in your throat catches. His eyes, usually so soft and brown when they look at you, are gone, replaced by darkness. You blink a few times, as if that will reset your sight and give you something more familiar.
It doesn't and your brow furrows. You've spent enough time looking into Peter's eyes to know every shade of brown that they could be in a different light. This wasn't that. The colour has been swallowed whole, replaced by a black glossy enough to catch the light from your bedside lamp.
Over time, you've learnt to just roll with the things that happen to and around Peter. Now, for the first time really, he's beaten, he's bloody, his eyes are pitch black, and he just stares at you.
It's probably one of the most unsettling things you've ever seen, which makes it deeply irritating that your first coherent thought is still 'God, he's attractive'.
"That's... new," you finally say.
His head tilts ever so slightly, the movement smooth enough that it reminds you he isn't entirely human, as if him clinging on your wall without a regard for gravity wasn't reminder enough.
"What happened, handsome?" You ask softly.
One corner of his mouth twitches at the nickname, it's barely a smile, but it's enough to loosen the knot that has been tightening in your chest from since you turned the light on.
"Suit yourself," you say.
The silence feels wrong on him. Usually, Peter feels silence the way other people breathe. He apologises, makes terrible jokes, and talks himself into circles until you have to interrupt him just to get a word in. Even after the worst patrols, he somehow finds the energy to ramble on about the criminal who threw a microwave at him or complain about New York's pigeons' vendetta against him.
Tonight, he just watches you. His gaze follows you as you kneel beside the bed and pull out the first-aid kit you stashed there for times like this. It tracks the movement of your hands while you sort through gauze and antiseptic, placing them on the bed.
"Come here."
This, he obeys immediately. Usually there's some sort of protest, "I'm fine." "You don't need to fuss." "It's not even my blood."
But today, he walks down the wall, each step carrying him lower until both feet settle quietly onto the carpet. He walks the short distance over to you, stopping close enough that you can smell the rain and city dust beneath the metallic tang of blood.
There's tiny cuts scattered across his jaw, already looking like they're healing. "You really got beat up, huh?"
He nods in response.
"The other guy look worse than you?"
Another nod.
"Good."
It's your turn to watch him, your eyes trailing down from where his hair is still damp to the way his muscles bulge out of his suit. A hum of approval slips past your lips, and the corner of Peter's mouth lifts again.
"Missed you." His voice is rough, quieter than usual, as though he hasn't spoken in hours. Knowing Peter, that is unlikely.
"I missed you too." You reach for the antiseptic. "Suit off, sit down."
It's a routine you've done time and time again. He's out of the suit in no time, then on your bed in only his boxers. His chest and stomach is no better than his face, scrapes and bruises littered across him.
You kneel between his open legs, soaking a cotton pad with antiseptic before lifting it towards the cut above his eyebrow. "This is going to sting."
Normally, he'd flinch before you'd enough touched him, already complaining about your bedside manner despite being the one who'd shown up at your window and begging you to take care of him with those puppy-dog eyes.
But, the antiseptic touches raw skin without so much as a wince or bad joke about how it hurts worse than anything he fought as an Avenger.
The furrow in your brow deepens for the second time today as you carefully clean his face. "Peter."
His black eyes flick briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes. "What?"
"You've been staring at me for the past... I don't know. Like five minutes."
"I know." Is his simple response.
There's something in his voice that somehow manages to sound not quite like Peter but also entirely like Peter at the same time. A hint of brown peaks through his eyes as you study him.
You find yourself looking away first, pretending to concentrate on cleaning the cut along his jaw even though you've already wiped it clean.
When your thumb accidentally brushes against the corner of his mouth, any hint of brown disappears, replaced by pitch black again as there's a faint hitch in his breath.
The effects of his reaction rolls through your body in a way that you're not sure you can admit out loud. Although he doesn't show it, he's probably in pain, and the worry you'd had initially is very quickly being replaced by a burning desire.
"I think we're done."
You stand to throw the used cotton aside. The moment you try to leave, warm fingers close around your wrist. It's not tight enough to bruise, but it's enough to stop you in your tracks, to stop you from even thinking of pulling away.
The tug on your arm is done with hardly any force at all, but it still has you tumbling forward. Your hands land on his shoulders to steady yourself, and he lets go of your wrist only to settle one hand against your waist.
Lifting you with ease, he puts you on his lap.
For a brief second, he looks almost puzzled by the contact, as though some part of him is only catching up to what the rest of him decided several seconds ago.
As your fingers trace down the lines of his chest, over the faint bruising, his eyes drop to your chest, watching how your chest begins to rise and fall faster as your heart thuds in your chest.
His nipples are already erect, so perky and tempting and you can't help but slide your thumbs over them. It's as if the touch sparks something within him, his hands tighten on your waist, drawing you closer until there's barely any space between your bodies.
The streets of New York sound even more distant as the sounds of ragged breathing fills the room, it's all consuming and desire pools in your stomach without even being touched.
"Pete," you moan, and the restraint snaps.
Peter's hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you down to crash his lips to yours. It's not really a kiss, it's too messy and too desperate, and he groans in your mouth as your teeth accidentally catch the cut on his lip. Still, he doesn't pull away. In fact, he craves more.
His hands run over your back and then down to cup your ass, tilting your hips forward in an attempt to press you harder against him. He hums quietly against your mouth, the sound vibrating somewhere deep in his chest.
Somehow, he calms down enough that his lips move against yours in a way more resembling real kiss, his tongue sliding over yours. The motion has heat prickling under your skin and a throb blooming between your thighs. Your nails scratch at his back, adding to the collection of marks there.
Without breaking the kiss, Peter eases you both backwards. You barely notice you're being moved until you suddenly feel him, all of him, press against you. He arranges you so he's flat on his back, your knees on either side of his hips.
The thin fabric of your panties is damp in a way that you're sure he can feel through his boxers. He's done nothing so far to
"Fuck," you groan against his mouth as you shift against him. The friction sending little sparks of pleasure through you, but not enough to satisfy the ache.
He pulls back just enough to look up at you. You could always tell what he was thinking through his eyes, but they're still black, probably darker than before if that's possible. But, the expression on his face gives you all the reassurances that his eyes can't.
"My senses are going crazy." It's the first sentence that was more than two words he's pulled together all night, so you sit up straight, looking down at him. He closes his eyes, drawing in a deep and ragged breath. "Fu-. You smell so..."
The praise went straight to your core, more wetness dampening your panties and Peter whimpered.
He didn't open his eyes immediately, taking another long, shuddering breath of air as if your scene was an intoxicant he couldn't get enough of.
Shifting in his lap, you grind down against him with as much pressure as you could manage. His hands on your hips twitched, his fingers digging into your skin with enough pressure that you knew it would bruise tomorrow. Good.
His eyes lock on to yours, the void in his gaze terrifying in a way that only made you ache more. "I can hear your blood rushing. I can feel... no, I can smell how warm and wet you are."
Leaning forward, you drag your chest against his bare skin until your noses almost brush.
"So, then you know I'm ready for you." You kissed the bottom of his jaw, where a bruise has formed. "I'm begging for it." Another kiss and shift against him. His full body tremors underneath you. "I need you."
Before you can blink, his hand flies up to wrap around the back of your neck, and then the room spins. Peter's over you in an instant, pressing his erection against your core.
There's a wet patch on his boxers where his precum has pooled and each roll of his hips coats his boxers as it glides over your damp panties.
"Fuck... Pete."
Your nails find their way to his back again, leaving him with marks that you know he'll appreciate in the mirror in the morning.
Peter whimpers, hair flopping over his face and eyes half-lidded as he moves faster against you. You reach up, thumb flicking over his nipples in time with his grinds against you. Electricity runs through his veins at every wipe.
"I-I'm not- I'm close already," he stutters, his dick twitching in his boxers.
"But I want you inside of me," you all but whined.
"Okay, yes."
If you weren't as aroused as you are now, you would have laughed at the unnecessary acrobatics as he jumps back to pull your panties off in one swoop. The cold air hits your soaked folds, and his throat bobs as he watches the way it glistens in the light.
"Hurry up," you begged, legs closing slightly. It was a silly thing to feel so self-conscious in front of the man who's been between your legs more times than you could count, but he's also not seen you this desperate before.
He stands to pull his boxers down, a soft moan escaping his lips as the fabric catches on his sensitive tip. He turns to look at you as you swallow hard. His dick is beautiful, slightly curved and thick in a way that fills you up completely every time. It's flushed a pretty pink at the tip. Your tongue moves in your throat, craving the feeling of how heavy it would feel on you.
Settling between your legs again, Peter spreads your legs wide. He rubs the tip of his length through your slick folds, his precum and your arousal mixing. He uses the tip to circle your clit with extra pressure, and you cannot help the grind of your hips.
Peter taps his dick on your clit once, then once again, running it through your folds again.
Your hands hook under the backs of your thighs, pulling them to your chest and exposing yourself to him. "Peter, please."
"I'm sorry, baby," he coos.
Just the tip is eased past your hole, and it's enough for your mouth to go slack, eyes rolling back as the stretch burns so well. He continues to push in slowly, face scrunched as your walls wrap around him like a specialised glove.
Every ridge, every vein, and every pulse drags hits against the walls of your pussy. He fills you up completely, thick and veiny, and neither of you move for a moment, too lost in the feeling.
"Won't last long," he grits out.
Sweat already beads at his forehead. Sex with Peter is usually a stamina war, he goes rounds and rounds before even tiring. But whatever's happened to him has heightened his senses in a way that he cannot yet control, the feelings overwhelming him to the point of almost overstimulation.
"That's okay, take what you need."
He begins to move, pulling out so just the tip is left in before pushing back forward. He finds the right angle immediately, hitting against your spot and making your toes curl.
Without missing a thrust, Peter grabs hold of your ankles, using them to spread your legs further. The new angle has you both sighing, moans mixing in the room with the sounds of his skin clapping against yours.
"Feels s'good, s'tight," he groans. "Touch... self."
Three of your fingers immediately find your clit, circling with the pressure that you know you like. It only takes a few tightly pressured circles for the first waves of your orgasm to shake through your body.
Peter watches your body arch as your orgasm hits you in full force. You clench around him and that combined with the pure ecstasy on your face has him burying himself deep inside of you, giving you a few more frantic thrusts before he's whimpering and groaning, his nerve endings going haywire.
Seconds later, he's shooting hot, ropey cum into you. He falls forward but keeps his body hovering over yours. Your hands cup his cheeks, pressing kisses to his face as you both come down from your highs. He mumbles praises to you between kisses, making your heart squeeze.
"Feeling better, Pete?" You ask.
"Yeah, thanks to you," he sighs. He sits back on his heels, still buried inside of you.
As you watch him, his eyes slowly clear of the black, his soft brown eyes finding yours.
If you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment, ask, reblog etc. it means a lot x
☆ Peter Parker who had become embarrassingly touch-starved in the years since being forgotten. He leans into you like your skin is a magnet, following you as you pull away, big brown eyes snapping up to silently wonder if he’d done something wrong when you need to leave.
☆ Peter Parker who follows you around the apartment as you do mundane tasks. Folding the laundry, cleaning the dishes, drying the plates...he's telling you every single detail about his day, and each thought he'd had in between. It becomes a constant buzz like the rattle of the AC. You'll be folding four shirts before he realises, and reaches to help you before he gets distracted again:
"And then I said, 'double cheese pizza to go?'-because he was wearing a pizza delivery uniform-and BAM! I-Oh, you know what? There's a coffee place nearby, I'll take you. Anyway, I go, 'Order's Up!'...Wait, lemme help you with that-"
☆ Peter Parker who is so used to your presence that he gets antsy when it's time to leave for a patrol. His phone buzzes; he inches towards your open window, but he hops back down, saying for the third time I don’t need to go, honey when you usher him out. His fingers reach for your waist, and he silently hopes you'll ask to stay so that he can climb back on the couch with you.
☆ Peter Parker who gets choked up the first time you fix his suit. He'd walked out of the bathroom to see you bent over the sink. You'd sewn up a tear on the shoulder with your pocket sewing kit, and you were elbow-deep in suds, scrubbing the blood out of the fabric. You smiled up at him, and it felt like an embrace. He placed a hand at your spine, muttering something like you don't have to do that, baby but you insisted it wasn't a bother. Said he'd get cold if the wind kept getting through, and it was the first time that he'd felt unconditionally loved again.
☆ Peter Parker who brings you flowers, slightly dishevelled, when he'd not seen you for more than a day, like it was something he needed to apologise for. You'd take them, laugh, and say, Pete, I was only at work.
☆ Peter Parker who crawls straight into the bedroom from the street, never once bothering to use the keys you gave him.
☆ Peter Parker who, exhausted from a night of crime fighting, longs to slip into bed beside you. He knows the only way he'll rest is pressed against your warm, soft skin. It's all he thinks about as he swings through the city.
☆ Peter Parker who wakes up the morning after a tough night to the smell of fresh coffee, feeling guilty for not having risen early enough to make it for you. Despite the ache in his bones, he'll roll himself out of the sheets to find you.
☆ Peter Parker who twirls his fingers in your hair when he locates you in the kitchen. He'll press gentle kisses to the side of your face as a thank you when you press a warm mug into his palm. He'll place it down on the counter, turn you to face him, and nip gratefully at your jaw.
☆ Peter Parker who swallows hard when your lips brush against his - as if it were always the first time. He'd wash his gaze over you, needing reassurance that you were real. His heart hammers frantically against his chest, and he'd dip his head to kiss you. You’d open your mouth with a little gasp, and he’d groan.
Can you imagine the sticky sounds of skin slapping against skin as peter fucks load after load into you from behind. He can’t stop the noises falling from his lips,they don’t even register as his own voice to his ears. They’re a gargled mess of pitiful moans and cries,high pitched and beyond desperate as he feels his balls tighten and another orgasm begin to bloom and twist in his abdomen. Your pussy has milked him for all that he’s worth,he’s cum what? Three times? Maybe four? He can’t even keep track,his brain feels scrambled,his only focus being to keep chasing this high for as long as he possibly can. His cock is still impossibly hard and pathetically rutting into you like it has a mind of its own. Your gummy walls are pulling him in like he belongs there and for a fleeting second he thinks he just might. Tears spring to his eyes as you clench around him,hot and heavy on his lashes as he starts to think of all the possibilities. How this could be a real thing,not just some sort of far away fantasy,how things could be some sort of normal,how he could be some sort of normal. He can’t recall the last time he’s felt this good,the butterflies he feels in his stomach when you give him those eyes in the elevator,the way he smiles to himself when his mind drifts to the smell of your shampoo while he’s riding the subway,the way you say his name. He can’t remember the last time he’s fucked anything other than his hand yet here you are so eager to let him into your bed. He’s overstimulating himself to the point of insanity,he knows that as he watches the throbbing cherry red head of his cock disappear in and out of your soaking folds yet he can’t stop his hips slamming into you trying to hit that sweet spot inside of you that has you crying out his name. Your pussy is practically drooling as each thrust pushes out his previous loads, he’s dripping down the inside of your thighs and pooling onto your sheets. The sight is enough to have his cock twitching against your walls as his orgasm threatens to wreak havoc on his body. All he can do is squeeze his eyes shut,fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he pulls your hips back to meet his thrusts,slick covered ass bouncing back onto him as he feels himself spilling deep inside you.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 SUMMARY: flirting with your guests is a regular on your youtube show… but flirting with SPIDER-MAN hits different, especially ‘cause he flirts right back!
ⓘ CONTENT WARNINGS: flirting, teasing -> confident fem! reader ノ dialogue heavy ノ back-and-forth banter ノ heavyyyy fluff ノ couple of uses of y/n!
AUTHOR’S NOTE: wow, me not posting smut for once— fluff will appear on this page every once and a while. my guilty pleasure watch is “chicken shop date” and love the idea of spider-man flirting heavyyyy. god, i can’t wait for brand new day! btw, i don’t own chicken shop, that shit belongs to amelia diloldenberg, only using the idea!
NEW NOTIFICATION!
CHICKEN SHOP DATE with y/n l/n has uploaded a new video: SPIDER-MAN | CHICKEN SHOP DATE #214
(2 hours ago…)
it took about two years to finally get the man on your show… but finally, someone from spider-man’s personal life finally listened to you and got him on your youtube series.
peter? loved your show. he loves the guests and the style of the show and your laid back personality compared to the other shows on youtube. he always found late night shows too… forced, other people had weird questions, but yours? yours was perfect
the only issue? they asked for… him. so now, here he was, dressed in his spider-man suit, mask halfway pushed up to reveal his mouth and a part of his jawline, and a camera on him… steaming hot chicken and fries sitting in front of him.
and here you were; internally freaking out that you were really interviewing him, the fucking king of new york himself. spider-man. fucking spider-man. the wall crawler!
the restaurant atmosphere wasn’t tense or quiet but rather warm and nervous. maybe it’s cause you’re interviewing world famous superhero, possibly. but even spider-man across the table was nervous as he tasted the food.
but then, spider-man speaks the first words of the video. “you know… this is really good chicken.”
“thanks, we try to make the chicken at least some what edible… like me.” you reply to him, taking a bite of your own food; it’s pretty good, you will agree with him like that.
immediately, peter could feel his heart do a little flip thing that he’s felt before… but never to this extent. he doesn’t let it show though, he knows he can’t be too confident on this show— just be friendly, flirt back, and don’t overshare too much. “well it’s good cause i’m hungry. i didn’t eat before coming.”
you lean back in your chair, pointing to him. “so how do you work out? considering you’re a… human spider after all.”
he chuckles lightly, covering his mouth with the top of his hand before speaking, pointing to his own body. “the spider-like qualities don’t really… stick in terms of… appetite and stuff like that.”
“oh? it doesn’t.”
“no, luckily i’ve gotten good at maintaining sweat and all that jazz.”
[video cuts to an outside shot of the shop; nighttime with the moon bright and the lights of the chicken shop lit brightly; Y/N’S CHICKEN. ON 45TH STREET]
peter takes another bite of the chicken as he swirls the straw around in his chosen drink. “you know… we’ve probably met before.”
“oh yeah?” you challenge. “you think as spider-man we’ve met or as your secret alias thing?”
he shrugs as he scratches his left cheek with his fingers. “i mean, probably as both… sorry if i didn’t remember you if i did save you once; i save a lot of people.”
you put your chin on your hand as you completely ignore his defense. “you have been avoiding me”
“have i?” he asks, tilting his head.
you nodded. “yeah, been trying to get you on this show for two years up to this point… seems like my calls to your manager didn’t reach you.”
he nods his head even if he doesn’t agree with your sentiment. “i don’t have a manager darling, it’s just me… who the hell would you have called in the first place?”
“i tried the daily bugle but they hung up on me, i think i was talking to jameson himself."
“yeah… he doesn’t really… fancy me all too much.”
putting a chicken strip into your mouth, you chew on it before putting your knuckles to your mouth, swallowing it as you respond. “oh that’s so unfortunate.”
peter points his french-fry holding fingers at you in agreement. “that’s what i tell them because i don’t do anything wrong and yet they have an issue!”
“i mean, what did you do to them?” you question, a teasing tone to your words.
peter shrugs. “i don’t know.”
“did you like, fuck jameson’s wife? flirt with his daughter in front of him?” you ask, adding possible solutions to j.jonah jameson’s undying hatred for the wallcrawler.
“not that i know of.” he answers, sipping from his straw. “spider-man doesn’t usually do the hit it and quit it stuff so i know i didn’t do anything to him personally.”
you crack a smile at his words. “so spider-man doesn’t fuck a civillian he saves if they ask hard enough?”
he shakes his head. “nope… not trying to have a son or daughter running ‘round and it uh… reveals my secret identity because of dna and everything… plus, not trying to give my powers away.”
“selfish.”
“reasonable.”
[video cuts to a woman’s arm, your arm, putting the fries from the deep-fry basket onto the tray, ready to serve to the next customer]
you eat a couple of fries before steering the conversation somewhere else. “so we all know new york is the weirdest of weird places… what’s the weirdest thing you’ve interrupted while swinging?”
spider-man chuckles behind his glass. “uhhhh… basically, i accidentally landed… right in between a proposing couple on one of those garden rooftops.”
“was there like a serial killer on the roof? what happened?” you ask.
“uh… the ring rolled off the roof and the guy nearly fell trying to catch it.” he explains, rubbing the back of his head as he chews on a fry, taking the time to scratch the back of his neck as well. “they still got engaged.”
“did you go to the wedding?”
“no, wasn’t on the guest list.”
you click your tongue. “you know; i would invite you to my wedding.”
he smiles bold. “oh really? you think i could look good in a suit?”
“you’d be invited as the groom and not a guest.” your tone deadpan despite the smile on your lips.
peter nods in understanding— he tries to hide his blush at flirty words. “ohhhhh.”
[video cuts to a close up on the chicken’s shop menu… damn, in this economy, it’s surprising to see a 4 chicken tender and fry combo for seven dollars. the sound of the kitchen can be heard in the background.]
peter fixes his mask to make sure it doesn’t reveal too much before he speaks again. “i noticed that the colors of the show’s logo match my suit.”
you look up, smiling as you eat another piece of chicken. “oh yeah?” you cover your mouth to swallow before finishing your sentence. “you like it?”
“it’s an honor, sweetheart.”
[video cuts to the grill inside the kitchen, two pieces of texas toast sitting butter side down]
“is it true that all superheroes are fuckboys and fuckgirls?” you ask.
peter looks up at you, eyes of the mask widening before shortly going back to regular position, waving his hand is dismay. “nah, most of us are professional. i know the human torch and hawkeye and that knobhead from bludhaven, what’s his name?”
“nightwing?” you finish his question, remembering that black hair bird gymnast sitting across from you.
he snaps his finger. “yeah, that kid… bro, he gives us a bad rep ‘cause he’s always flirting with his fans… it’s like totally crazy the type of stuff he pulls with ‘em.”
“so you, spider-man, don’t flirt with your own fans?” you question him, raising a brow as you lean forward on the table.
the webslinger shakes his head. “nope. not trying to have my name trending for flirting.”
“well i’m a fan and you’re flirting with me right now…”
“if you wanna spin it like that.”
[video cuts to the soda station in the shop; all sodas are available except mountain dew. a sticky-note is placed at the bottom of the dispensary, reading very simply; out of order.]
“i’ve asked people out a lot.” you begin, swinging around the half-eaten chicken strip in your fingers. “and have gotten no’s back.”
peter interrupts with a smile, pointing to the ceiling of the restaurant. “in this way or like… in a real way?”
“no… no…” you begin, tilting his head at the accusation that this restaurant is not a real way. how dare he. “well, this is real, but…”
then, spider-man busts out into a fit of laughter— serious, unbridled laughter. you just made spider-man laugh and there’s something good about that. there’s something sweet about having that power over someone so much more powerful.
“stop laughing damn it!” you say, reaching over and smacking the back of his shoulder, which only makes him laugh. “this is a serious issue!”
“oh i know it is, y/n, that’s why i’m laughing!” he tries to explain in between laughs, finally leaning back in his chair.
you look at him dumbfounded, but a smile doesn’t stop from appearing on your lips. “you think you’re so fucking funny.”
“i think you’re funny, darling.”
[video cuts to a still shot of the outside deal; free desert with a purchase over $10, and in this restaurant? that’s pretty easy to get… so obviously, free cakes and free brownies were flying all over that damn restaurant]
“are you seeing anyone?” you ask him, stealing one of his fries.
he shakes his head as he does the same to you; stealing a much bigger fry than you stole. “not right now, it’s kinda hard to date with the whole… superhero stuff. why? you seeing if you have a chance?”
“maybe, why does that matter?” you press him, leaning back and crossing your arms.
he mirrors your action; key sign of someone liking you, mirroring your actions. “just asking. it’s hard to try to be on a date and suddenly an idiot is trying to rob a bank down fifth avenue.” he explains, motioning with his hand.
you nod along. “are you feeling any danger around us?”
he puts his fingers on his chin; surprisingly? his spidey-sense haven’t gone off… maybe this is a sign. “nope, for once, my little inside radar ain’t going off.”
and you almost read his mind perfect. “aye, it’s a sign we are made for each other.”
“can you handle heights?” he asks.
you shrug. “possibly, why you asking?” you question.
peter sticks his tongue to the inside of his cheek, visible to the screen as he scratches the back of his neck, a blush clear on his cheeks. “maybe after this, i can show you what a little web slinging with spidey is like.”
[video cuts to an empty version of the chicken shop; the red and white tables nice and pretty, the lights vibrant inside the restaurant, in the background has two workers behind the cash register.]
“so… as we wrap up our date… speak now or forever hold your truth, they say.” you offer him before sipping on your drink.
peter thinks for a minute before grinning bright. “eh, you have my number, this won’t be our last date.”
4,912 COMMENTS (sort by…)
add a comment…
user431 (2 hours ago)
i have never seen two ppl flirt so hard before and go absolutely no where | 34K likes
user01 (2 hours ago)
HE WAS BEATING HER AT HER OWN GAME AND I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT | 12K likes
╰ user43: she wasn’t trying to stop it either
╰ user04: when he asked her to go web-slinging 🫦
user69 (2 hours ago)
would pay exponential amounts of money to see an uncut version of this | 128K likes
user420 (2 hours ago)
the random nightwing stray???? 😭😭😭 | 44K likes
╰ user55: bro is FUMING
╰ user67: he’s impregnating one of his fans just to make spidey more mad at the fact that he’s giving them a bad rep
╰ user58: and i’m the baby mama!
╰ user06: sorry! the baby mama is actually me!
╰ user88: i need to see them interact!
╰ user77: i fear spidey is putting him through the wall
johnnystorm (2 hours ago)
this motherfucker has no game istg | 404K likes
╰ mattthelawyer: how does he have the bucket right in front of him and yet still not score???
╰ johnnystorm: dawg idk, this is baddd
╰ user100: how tf is matt the blind lawyer typing if he can’t see shit?
╰ user44: user100 never heard of asking siri to read the comment out loud
user667 (2 hours ago)
their sex tape would go crazy | 69K likes
user111 (2 hours ago)
watching this after being broken up with was NOT a good idea lmaooooo | 101K likes
ironfistyoass (2 hours ago)
and i thought i was bad at realizing flirting attempts | 91K likes
╰ user789: it’s not even that he’s bad at flirting, it’s just that neither of them will fucking admit shit 😭
peterbparker (2 hours ago)
loved this one y/n, great interview! | 1K likes
╰ user123: jolly aah mf
╰ user457: basic ass comment
╰ user843: ur that mf from the daily bugle, u know spider-man, get this motherfucker on game or tell him to pass the controller!
╰ peterbparker: you think I know spidey personally?
╰ user843: yes. get on it.
user674 (2 hours ago)
i love how he says he doesn’t want to be on trending for flirting with fans and yet he’s been #1 trending for 2 hours bc of this interview 😭😭 | 690K likes
user999 (2 hours ago)
imagine if they become the next rpf final boss like superman and lois lane | 55K likes
╰ user885: their sex tape didn’t leak, this couple’s will atp
╰ user798: still can’t believe they actually became a thing
╰ user321: loved how they went from denying their relationship every single time they were seen out together. the amount of times “i’m just interviewing him” was said is insaneee
╰ user541: everyone remembers that casino video leaking of batman, wonder woman, green lantern, and the flash putting bets of them ‘cause even they were shipping them!
╰ user999: everyone was there for the sky photos
╰ user561: when they got photographed fucking on the daily planet logo 😭😭😭
masterlist is here! click here for more!
ⓘ KENTLUV3R’S WORK. all my fanfics (not the characters) is my very own, coming from my own efforts and my time. do not copy my work, rewrite it, shove it through an ai machine and shit out slop, and don’t repost to wattpad/ao3/c.ai!
◡◡ ﹒ one piece men x fem!reader 𖧧 | wc : 500 each approx. | 3k total | cw : fluff / comedic | masterlist
characters ~ sanji / trafalgar law / monkey d. luffy / roronoa zoro / captain koby
𝔰𝔞𝔫𝔧𝔦
sanji had been in the kitchen for nearly twelve hours.
despite the dark circles under his eyes and the occasional cough he tried very hard to hide, he refused to leave his post.
"i'm fine," he'd insist every single time you wandered in. "a cook can't abandon his kitchen."
you sighed. he was impossible.
so… if words weren't enough, maybe embarrassment would do the trick.
you disappeared into your room with the package nami had helped you pick out earlier.
it wasn't anything scandalous. just a pastel nurse uniform with puffed sleeves, a knee-length skirt, white stockings, comfortable shoes, and a tiny nurse cap perched neatly atop your head.
you even borrowed chopper's toy stethoscope.
"…perfect."
────────────
sanji was humming quietly while chopping vegetables when he heard the kitchen door creak open.
"welcome, my de…"
his sentence died.
knife frozen midair.
eyes wide.
you smiled sweetly.
"good afternoon."
he blinked once.
twice.
"…doctor?" he whispered.
you shook your head.
"close."
you adjusted the tiny nurse cap.
"nurse."
his cigarette slipped right out of his mouth.
"CHOPPER!"
the reindeer poked his head inside.
"what?"
sanji pointed at you with a trembling finger.
"i've gone delirious."
chopper looked between the two of you.
"…no, that's just __."
"…she's dressed as a nurse."
sanji dramatically clutched his chest.
"i'm in love again."
────────────
you walked closer with your toy clipboard.
"i'm here for today's checkup."
he obediently stood there.
not because he believed you.
because he physically couldn't refuse you.
"first symptom…"
you pretended to scribble.
"patient refuses to rest."
"…"
"second symptom…"
another fake note.
"persistent coughing."
"…"
"third symptom…"
you leaned forward.
"terminal stubbornness."
sanji gave you the saddest puppy eyes imaginable.
"nurse…"
"yes?"
"…please don't scold me."
"too late."
before he could protest, you gently pressed the toy stethoscope against his chest.
he completely stopped functioning.
"…heartbeat's pretty fast."
he made the mistake of looking directly into your eyes.
"…that's because…"
he swallowed.
"…because…"
"…?"
"…the patient's condition has worsened."
you couldn't help giggling.
"really?"
"yes."
"what condition?"
"…being hopelessly in love."
you stared.
he stared.
then he turned bright red.
before sanji could combust from embarrassment, you reached up and lightly pressed the back of your hand against his forehead.
"…still warm."
"it's nothing."
"sanji."
"really."
"sanji."
"…okay maybe it's… a little something."
"exactly."
you folded your arms.
"doctor's orders."
"you're not the doctor."
"fine."
you smiled.
"nurse's orders."
"…"
"…that's somehow even stronger."
you confiscated his cigarette.
his lighter.
his apron.
and finally—
his cooking spoon.
"hey!"
"bed."
"but dinner—"
"i'll help."
"you don't have to."
"bed."
"…"
he looked toward the ceiling as if asking the heavens for strength.
"…yes, nurse."
────────────
an hour later, you arrived carrying a tray.
warm soup.
tea.
medicine.
sanji stared at it before looking back at you.
"…you made all this?"
"with a little help."
"…"
his expression softened immediately.
"…thank you."
you smiled.
"good patients get dessert."
"…i'm a good patient?"
"today."
he laughed quietly.
"guess i'll have to stay sick forever."
you gently flicked his forehead.
"don't even joke about that."
"…right."
his smile grew softer.
"then… maybe i'll just let you take care of me every once in a while."
"…only if you promise to actually listen."
he nodded immediately.
"anything nurse says."
from the doorway, nami peeked inside before snickering.
"well…"
she nudged robin beside her.
"looks like the costume worked better than expected."
robin smiled knowingly.
"indeed."
inside the infirmary, sanji happily accepted his medicine without a single complaint.
perhaps the greatest miracle of all wasn't chopper's medical knowledge.
it was you in a tiny nurse cap telling one impossibly stubborn cook to finally get some rest.
𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔤𝔞𝔯 𝔩𝔞𝔴
the polar tang was unusually quiet.
which meant one thing.
captain was buried somewhere beneath a mountain of paperwork.
again.
you leaned against the infirmary door, watching him scribble across page after page without even lifting his head.
"...captain."
"busy."
"you didn't even look at me."
"don't need to."
"your footsteps are recognizable."
you huffed.
"that's no fun."
"i'm not here to entertain you."
he turned another page.
"come back in thirty minutes."
you smiled to yourself.
we'll see about that.
────────────
it had started as a joke.
you had found an old comic book featuring germa 66, and the crew had somehow spiraled into arguing over which character fit everyone best.
penguin had immediately pointed at you.
"poison pink."
shachi nodded enthusiastically.
"definitely."
you laughed it off...
until bepo somehow found a tailor willing to recreate the outfit.
it wasn't the exact battle suit.
instead, it was softened into something wearable. the pink-and-white bodysuit was layered beneath a cropped jacket, matching gloves, and boots, complete with the purple butterfly cape that swayed behind you. the head accessory had been replaced with a simple pink hair clip shaped like tiny wings.
it was cute.
dramatic.
and just embarrassing enough to wear solely because you knew one particular surgeon would hate how much it distracted him.
────────────
you quietly stepped into the infirmary.
law didn't look up.
"i said thirty..."
his voice stopped.
silence.
you watched his pen hover above the paper.
"..."
"...captain?"
he slowly raised his eyes.
they met yours.
then the outfit.
then the cape.
another long silence.
finally...
"...seriously?"
you spun once.
"what do you think?"
"..."
"...who convinced you to wear that?"
"everyone."
"...i'm blaming shachi."
"it was actually penguin."
"...i'm blaming him too."
you walked closer.
the cape fluttered behind you.
law carefully placed his pen down.
"...is it that bad?"
"...no."
"...that's the problem."
you blinked.
"what?"
he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"...it suits you."
"..."
"...too well."
you grinned triumphantly.
"i knew it."
"don't get cocky."
you leaned forward over his desk.
"does captain law have a weakness?"
"no."
"really?"
"yes."
"not even a little?"
"...you're currently standing in it."
you laughed.
"that's practically a confession."
"...don't push it."
────────────
instead of returning to his paperwork, law found himself staring.
not intentionally.
his eyes would drift back to the ridiculous pink cape every few seconds.
he hated germa.
loathed everything associated with them.
and yet...
you somehow managed to wear something inspired by them without reminding him of any of those unpleasant memories.
instead...
he just saw...
you.
smiling.
trying far too hard not to laugh at his suffering.
"...you're enjoying this."
"a little."
"a little?"
"okay..."
you giggled.
"a lot."
law stood from his chair.
you immediately straightened.
"...captain?"
without saying a word, he walked toward you.
one step.
two.
until there was barely any space between you.
"...are you going to ‘room’ me?"
"...thinking about it."
"that's unfair."
"wearing that was unfair."
you laughed again.
"mission accomplished?"
"...unfortunately."
his hand reached up.
you froze.
instead of flicking your forehead like you expected...
he gently adjusted the tiny wing-shaped hair clip that had become slightly crooked.
"...there."
"...it was bothering you?"
"yes."
"you noticed?"
"...i notice everything."
your cheeks warmed.
"...that's kind of sweet."
"...don't tell the crew."
the infirmary door suddenly burst open.
"captain!"
bepo hurried inside before stopping dead in his tracks.
penguin peeked over his shoulder.
shachi followed.
the three of them slowly looked between you...
and law...
whose hand was still hovering beside your face.
law blinked.
you blinked.
penguin immediately gasped.
"I KNEW THE OUTFIT WOULD WORK!"
law's expression went completely blank.
"...out."
"captain—"
"out."
"but—"
"room."
before anyone could react...
the three troublemakers vanished in blue light.
shambles.
their distant yelling echoed from somewhere deep inside the submarine.
you burst into laughter.
law sighed.
"...children."
"you sent them to the storage room, didn't you?"
"...maybe."
you laughed so hard you had to hold onto his shoulder.
he watched you quietly for a moment.
"...keep the outfit."
"hmm?"
"...it looks nice."
"...you just admitted that."
"...don't make me change my mind."
your grin only widened.
"too late, captain."
law looked away, the faintest hint of pink dusting the tips of his ears.
"...troublesome."
but he never once asked you to take it off.
𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔨𝔢𝔶 𝔡. 𝔩𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔶
the sunny was finally quiet.
which, according to everyone on board, was the calm before a very loud storm.
nami was counting the week's food supply.
"okay... we have enough meat for four days."
sanji sighed in relief.
"good."
chopper smiled.
"that means luffy can't eat everything today!"
"...right?"
everyone slowly turned toward luffy.
he was sitting cross-legged on the lion figurehead, staring dreamily into the ocean.
"...meat. meat.”
sanji immediately pointed.
"see? he's already thinking about it."
you had overheard the conversation.
and unfortunately...
an absolutely terrible idea popped into your head.
"nami."
she looked up from her notebook.
"...yes?"
"can i borrow some cardboard?"
"...why?"
────────────
twenty minutes later...
you emerged from below deck.
wrapped inside a giant handmade meat costume.
it wasn't realistic at all.
it was ridiculous.
a huge brown drumstick with fluffy white "bone" sticking out.
usopp had even painted shiny grill marks across the front.
franky gave it a dramatic thumbs-up.
"super!"
brook laughed so hard his jaw nearly fell off.
"yohohoho!"
robin quietly covered her smile with her hand.
"...this is going to end terribly."
────────────
you waddled across the deck.
walking was...
difficult.
"guys..."
you called.
"how do i look?"
nami doubled over laughing.
"absolutely ridiculous."
"perfect."
luffy finally turned around.
"..."
his eyes landed on you.
they became perfectly round.
"MEAT!!"
everybody screamed.
"NO!"
luffy launched himself across the deck like a cannonball.
you yelped.
"WAIT!"
he was already halfway there.
"I'M HUNGRY!"
"I'M NOT ACTUALLY MEAT!"
"YOU LOOK LIKE MEAT!"
"THAT'S THE PROBLEM!"
you immediately turned and ran.
or...
attempted to.
running inside a giant drumstick costume was less "running" and more aggressively wobbling from side to side.
everyone watched as the world's strangest chase unfolded.
"COME BACK!"
"I'M NOT FOOD!"
"YOU CAN'T FOOL ME!"
"I'M LITERALLY TRYING TO FOOL YOU!"
you darted behind zoro.
"help!"
zoro lazily opened his one eye.
"..."
"...you're on your own."
luffy reached around him.
"meat!"
zoro simply stepped aside.
"traitor!"
────────────
next was sanji.
you hid behind him.
"sanji!"
he looked at your costume.
looked at luffy.
then sighed.
"...captain."
"yeah?"
"...that's your girlfriend."
luffy frowned.
he tilted his head.
"...girlfriend?"
"yes."
"...not meat?"
"...not meat."
"...aw."
his shoulders drooped dramatically.
you finally caught your breath.
"thank goodness..."
"...can i have one bite?"
"NO!"
everyone burst into laughter.
even luffy.
"shishishi!"
he pointed at your costume.
"you really looked tasty!"
you crossed your arms.
"i'm never wearing this again."
"...can i wear it?"
"...what?"
"then i'll be meat!"
"...actually..."
you pictured luffy proudly walking around dressed as a giant steak.
"...yeah."
"REALLY?!"
────────────
ten minutes later...
luffy was happily stomping around the deck wearing the oversized costume.
"LOOK!"
he spread his arms dramatically.
"I'M MEAT!"
chopper clapped.
"you look amazing!"
usopp immediately joined in.
"run! giant meat monster!"
luffy roared dramatically.
"RAAAAH!"
he chased usopp across the deck while making completely unconvincing monster noises.
brook pretended to faint.
franky declared him "super meat."
even zoro cracked a small smile before pretending he hadn't.
𝔯𝔬𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔞 𝔷𝔬𝔯𝔬
zoro had exactly three hobbies.
training.
sleeping.
getting lost on the way between the two.
so naturally, when you complained that he spent more time with his swords than with you...
his answer was simply,
"...train with me."
"...that's your solution to everything."
"works."
"...you're unbelievable."
that was when usopp made the mistake of saying,
"if you dressed like him, maybe he'd finally notice."
"..."
"..."
"...wait."
---
two hours later, you stood in front of the mirror.
green haramaki around your waist.
a white shirt tucked into black pants.
three toy swords hanging awkwardly from your side.
a tiny black bandana tied around your arm.
you had even borrowed a green wig from brook's collection of disguises.
you stared at yourself.
"...i look ridiculous."
"that's the point!"
usopp gave you a thumbs-up.
---
you found zoro exactly where you expected.
the training deck.
shirtless.
swinging one of his swords with the kind of effortless precision that made every movement look simple.
you quietly walked behind him.
copied his stance.
lifted your plastic sword.
and...
"...hya!"
the toy sword squeaked.
zoro stopped.
without turning around...
"...what."
you blinked.
"...how did you know?"
"your footsteps."
"..."
"...and nobody else squeaks when they swing a sword."
he finally turned around.
silence.
his eye slowly traveled from your head...
to the toy swords...
to the green waistband...
back up again.
"...what exactly am i looking at?"
you proudly puffed out your chest.
"i'm you."
"...no."
"yes."
"...i don't look like that."
"really?"
you dramatically pointed at your waist.
"green."
your swords.
"three."
your fake serious expression.
"...constantly grumpy."
"...i'm not constantly grumpy."
right on cue...
sanji walked onto the deck carrying drinks.
"oi, mosshead."
"...what."
sanji smirked.
"see?"
you pointed triumphantly.
"grumpy."
zoro sighed.
"...idiots."
you gasped dramatically.
"you even called me an idiot."
"...because you are."
"that's exactly what you'd say."
you drew one of the toy swords.
"come on."
"...?"
"spar with me."
"...absolutely not."
"why?"
"because that's made of wood."
"...and?"
"...you'll lose."
you placed a hand over your heart.
"you wound me."
"truth usually does."
instead of giving up...
you copied everything he did.
he stretched.
you stretched.
he rolled his shoulders.
you rolled yours.
he took a drink.
you grabbed a cup too.
he scratched his cheek.
you scratched yours.
finally...
"...are you done?"
"no."
he resumed training.
you followed.
every slash he made...
you copied with your little practice sword.
except...
his movements were graceful.
yours looked like you were trying to swat particularly aggressive mosquitoes.
"...hiya!"
bonk.
your toy sword slipped from your hands.
flew through the air.
and landed directly on luffy's head.
"ow!"
luffy picked it up.
"hey!"
he swung it around happily.
"free sword!"
zoro reached down and picked up your fallen practice sword.
"...come here."
you blinked.
"...what?"
"if you're gonna copy me..."
he handed it back.
"...hold it properly."
your eyes widened.
"...you're actually teaching me?"
"can't have someone embarrassing my fighting style."
you giggled.
"so this is purely for your pride?"
"...mostly."
-
for the next half hour...
he patiently corrected your posture.
"feet wider."
"...like this?"
"a little."
he gently nudged your foot with his own.
"better."
"elbows too stiff."
"i'm trying."
"stop thinking so hard."
"that's easy for you to say."
"don't grip it that tight… you'll tire yourself out."
you loosened your hands.
"...like this?"
"...yeah."
-
after a while...
you actually managed one clean swing.
the wooden sword sliced neatly through the air.
you looked at him excitedly.
"did you see that?!"
the tiniest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"...not bad."
you gasped.
"...you smiled!”
"...didn't."
"you did."
"didn't."
"i saw it."
"hallucination."
-
later that evening...
nami found the two of you sitting together on the deck.
three toy swords rested beside you.
zoro was half asleep against the railing.
you were absentmindedly polishing one of the fake blades.
she smiled knowingly.
"so?"
"hm?"
"did distracting him work?"
you glanced toward zoro.
he'd fallen asleep sometime during your conversation.
one hand still loosely holding your wrist, as if he'd reached for you without thinking before drifting off.
you smiled to yourself.
"...i think it worked better than i expected."
without opening his eye, zoro mumbled,
"...don't get used to it."
you laughed softly.
"too late."
his grip tightened ever so slightly.
"..."
"...troublesome."
yet he never let go.
𝔠𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔨𝔬𝔟𝔶
koby prided himself on staying focused.
captain's reports?
finished.
training?
never skipped.
paperwork?
organized by date.
meetings?
always early.
he had spent years building the image of a dependable marine captain.
which was why helmeppo loved trying to ruin it.
"...captain."
koby looked up from his paperwork.
"yes?"
helmeppo grinned.
"y/n said she's got a surprise for you."
"...a surprise?"
"mhm."
"...what kind?"
"..."
"...you'll see."
---
you hadn't meant for it to become this elaborate.
all you wanted was to make koby smile after watching him spend nearly a week buried beneath reports from one mission after another.
the outfit you'd found wasn't flashy.
it was an old-fashioned maid dress with a long black skirt that reached your ankles, puffed sleeves, a crisp white apron, and a neatly tied ribbon at your back. the white headpiece perched perfectly atop your hair, completing the classic look.
it was elegant.
cute.
and just silly enough to make you laugh every time you looked in the mirror.
"..."
"okay..."
you took a deep breath.
"here goes."
---
koby was still reading when someone knocked.
"come in."
the office door opened.
"...captain."
he looked up automatically.
"..."
"..."
his brain completely stopped working.
"..."
"..."
"...good afternoon?"
you smiled innocently, smoothing out your skirt.
"welcome home, captain."
...
his face turned pink almost instantly.
"y-you..."
"..."
"...you look..."
his mouth opened.
closed.
opened again.
"..."
"..."
"...really nice."
you tilted your head.
"that's all?"
his blush somehow deepened.
"I MEAN!"
he stood up so quickly his chair scraped loudly against the floor.
"you look very, very nice!"
"..."
"..."
"...really very nice."
you couldn't help giggling.
"thank you."
---
you walked inside carrying a silver tray.
tea.
cookies.
a tiny flower in a vase.
"i brought refreshments."
"..."
koby stared at the tray.
then at you.
then at the tray again.
"...you didn't have to."
"i wanted to."
"..."
"..."
"...thank you."
his voice had become noticeably quieter.
---
you gently placed the tea on his desk.
"you're working too hard again."
"..."
"...is it that obvious?"
you pointed toward the mountain of papers surrounding him.
"...just a little."
he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.
"...i guess i got carried away."
---
"then today's schedule is changing."
"...changing?"
you nodded very seriously.
"as your maid..."
he blinked.
"...your... maid?"
"yes."
"..."
"...i don't think that's how this works."
"it is now."
"..."
"...fair enough."
---
you picked up one of the reports.
"...break time."
"i still have twenty-three left."
"they'll survive."
"..."
"..."
"...probably."
he laughed.
"probably?"
"i'm trying to sound encouraging."
---
the two of you sat together, quietly drinking tea.
for the first time all afternoon...
koby actually relaxed.
his shoulders lowered.
the crease between his brows disappeared.
"..."
"...this is nice."
you smiled.
"see?"
"..."
"...i didn't realize how tired i was."
---
just as you reached for another cookie...
the office door slammed open.
"captain!"
helmeppo walked in.
stopped.
blinked.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"...captain?"
koby squeaked.
"Y-YES?"
helmeppo slowly looked toward you.
then back at koby.
"..."
"..."
"...am i interrupting... something?"
"W-WHAT?!"
---
before koby could explain...
another marine peeked inside.
"...captain?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
within seconds...
three.
then five.
then eight marines had somehow gathered outside the office.
all staring.
all completely silent.
"..."
one finally whispered,
"...does captain have a maid?"
---
koby's face became the exact color of a ripe tomato.
"N-NO!"
another marine raised a hand.
"...then why is there..."
he gestured toward you.
"..."
"..."
"...tea?"
you politely smiled.
"captain skipped lunch."
the entire hallway gasped.
one marine wiped away a fake tear.
"she even takes care of him..."
helmeppo dramatically sniffled.
"captain... you've grown up..."
"HELMEPPO!"
---
you laughed so hard you had to hold onto the desk.
koby covered his face with both hands.
"..."
"...i'm transferring."
"captain."
"..."
"...to another ocean."
---
after everyone finally left, the office became quiet again.
you gently nudged his arm.
"...hey."
"..."
he peeked through his fingers.
"...are you okay?"
"..."
"...i don't think i can ever look them in the eye again."
you smiled softly.
"i think they're just happy."
"...happy?"
"they've never seen you smile this much."
"..."
he blinked.
"...i was smiling?"
"the whole time."
"..."
"..."
"...i didn't notice."
you reached over and straightened the slightly crooked collar of his marine coat.
"you're cute when you forget to be so serious."
"..."
his heartbeat practically stumbled.
"..."
"...you always do this."
"do what?"
"distract me."
you grinned.
"did it work?"
he looked at the untouched stack of paperwork.
then at the empty teacups.
then back at you.
a sheepish smile spread across his face.
"..."
"...completely."
before you could tease him again, he shyly reached for your hand beneath the desk.
his fingers brushed against yours.
hesitating for only a moment...
before gently intertwining them.
"..."
"...would..."
he cleared his throat.
"...would the maid be willing to stay a little longer?"
your smile softened.
"only if the captain promises to take breaks."
he nodded immediately.
"...deal."
outside the office, helmeppo quietly peeked through the window.
he grinned to himself before walking away.
"..."
"...mission accomplished.”
——————————————————
𐔌 ᛝ taglist .ᐟ : @chocolateshortcakesblog
this fic is written by @qwehwa 2026 / please do not feed any of my work into ai, copy, plagerize, nor translate them into any other language.
hello hope this finds you well :)) can i make a request, please? i would like to ask for a sanji x reader, where they're dating and reader finds out through Chopper that she has food intolerances (like both gluten and lactose). she doesn't say it out loud but she feels guilty for having sanji cook separately for her, and gets over self-conscious about food and her body. sanji is the biggest sweetheart ever though so he notices and helps her with those feelings :)
thank you do much for your time, and have a great day! stay hydrated :))
Special
A/N: Thank you for your request, this hits home for me as I have a dairy intolernace that I only got two years ago now! I still eat dairy and choose to suffer the consequences tho! Hope you enjoy! Requests are open!
Sanji x Female Reader
Ultimate Masterlist. One Piece Masterlist
“Chopper, it hurts so badddd! I think I’m dying!” You cried out, clutching your stomach. You were sitting on the plush medical bed in Chopper’s office. Said doctor was running some of your bloodwork from the other day. It felt like this pain had been with you for a lifetime, but it had, in fact, only been a week. It started when you were eating an ice cream during a heatwave; Sanji had made them especially for the women of the crew, much to Luffy’s disappointment.
You were just enjoying your tasty treat when, out of nowhere, you started getting cramps; you were used to something like this as you were a woman after all. But this felt different; the pain wriggled around your stomach, causing havoc on you and your bowels. The next incident occurred during dinner the day after, a lovely pasta dish Sanji had prepared for you all. The meal was great and went down with ease, but then a few minutes later that pain came back and lingered for the whole evening. Two days in a row was weird; maybe you had a stomach bug?
A few days later you were eating a cheese toastie; you had asked Sanji specifically for cheese on his next food outing, and he ended up bringing back half the store with him. He said it wasn’t a big deal, his cheeks going red, “It’s really nothing, I’d do anything to make you happy!”
You felt awful ten minutes after the toastie, but it couldn’t have gone bad; Sanji had only just brought it. Maybe he got it from a dodgy seller? But Sanji has an eye for these things; he’d never buy food from someone who looked untrustworthy. After another dinner where you held your stomach and winced while you ate, Chopper stood on his chair, “That’s it, I’m going to do some tests on you!” He commanded; how could you say no?
So, that’s why you’re here now. Chopper had taken your blood on that faithful day, and here you were reporting back for the results. Chopper had gone into detail on all the possible things you could have; some sounded far less promising than others. The printer started making a loud ruckus in the corner of the room; Chopper dashed to it instantly and threaded the paper through his hooves.
“Hmmmm, interesting…” Chopper hummed. Your fingers were starting to cramp along your stomach after having held it for so long, “Am I dying, doc?” You mused, but part of you was serious. Chopper shook his head, “No, fortunately you’re A-okay!” he grinned. You looked at him, confused, “If I’m okay, then why am I getting such bad aches?”
Chopper pulled up a chair in front of you, his hoof tracing the edge of his chin, “Have you eaten anything weird or bad this week?”
“No, everything has been great!” You hummed, thinking back to all the delicious meals Sanji had made you. Chopper looked to be in deep thought, “What kind of foods have you eaten?”
“Oh, y’know, just the usual stuff.” You mumbled, listing off some of the meals you had consumed. It was all coming together for Chopper, “What was the last thing you had before this current stomach ache?”
“Ermmm, a pancake?” you questioned, trying to recall breakfast. Sanji had made pancakes; they were decorated beautifully with knobs of butter and fresh fruit. Chopper jumped from his chair and ran to a bookshelf; he read the spines carefully before pulling out a light blue book, “I know what you have, (Y/N)!” he cheered, feeling accomplished. He handed you the book; on the front was a picture of a cow surrounded by dairy products.
“Life with intolerances? Chopper, what is this?” You flipped the book around in your hands, flicking through the thin pages and skimming every other sentence. Chopper jumped up and sat next to you, “You have a dairy intolerance, (Y/N)! It means your small intestine doesn't produce enough of the enzyme lactase to digest the sugar in milk. It’s really common and nothing to be worried about; you just need to cut out dairy and find alternatives.”
“No more dairy?” you asked, a sadness in your heart. Chopper shook his head, “I’m sure Sanji won’t mind accommodating your intolerance.”
You left Chopper’s office that day a little deflated, sure it was great knowing what the issue was, but now everything was going to change. Okay, maybe a little dramatic. But you liked eating diary! You loved ice cream and chocolate and cheese! And having to get special treatment from Sanji sounded nice in theory, but you didn’t want to force him into making separate meals for you because of your stupid intestines.
Breakfast had soon turned into lunch, and with the time shifting to one o’clock, Sanji rang a small bell by the door of the kitchen indicating lunch was ready. You shuffled through the door last, taking your seat amongst Robin and Sanji, once he had finally sat down. In front of you sat a creamy mushroom soup, you tapped Sanji on the shoulder, as politely as possible, “What’s in this, Sanji?”
His eyes lit up upon being asked, “Well, thank you for asking, (Y/N)! It’s mushrooms, chives-” he went on for a while, talking about all the different spices and herbs he added. You listened to him go on, intrigued but also deeply disappointed, “Is there any dairy in this?” You asked, wincing at his answer.
Sanji thought for a moment, but nodded his head, “I used heavy double cream. Why? Is that a problem?” You shook your head rapidly, “No, it’s not. It sounds great, I’m just…I’m just not hungry.”
Sanji stared at you for a moment; you really hoped you hadn’t offended him. He went to take your bowl, “I can save it for later or- or I can make you something else if you don’t want this?”
“I’LL HAVE IT!” Luffy shouted from the other end of the table; three bowls were already piled up in front of him. Sanji snarled at the boy, “Absolutely not! This is (Y/N)’s soup; have some class!”
“I’m fine, Sanji. I promise! I’m just not that hungry right now,” you huffed out, staring down at the table. Sanji frowned at that; no one should go hungry, especially on his ship as long as he was the cook. Sanji took your bowl and headed back to the kitchen to start on the dishes, but he kept looking over his shoulder at you, a concerned look plastered across his face.
After everyone had cleared out, Sanji stopped Chopper, he offered him a seat while Sanji leant against the counter opposite him. Sanji lit his cigarette, perching the small cylinder against his lips, “Why isn’t (Y/N) eating? She was in your office today, no?” He questioned. Sanji was highly suspicious of the reindeer; if he had said anything to you about your weight, he would use Chopper as emergency food without any hesitation.
Chopper shook his head, “It’s patient-doctor confidentiality; I’m afraid,” he shrugged his shoulders. Sanji took a puff of his cigarette, the smoke clouding in front of Chopper’s face. He took a step closer to Chopper, squatting down to be level with the doctor, “Let me be clear, Chopper. If (Y/N) isn’t eating, I’m not doing my job as the ship’s chef right. If she isn’t eating because of what I’m cooking, I can’t change it to help her. So, what was (Y/N) doing in your office today?”
Chopper was sweating; he’d never seen Sanji act like this to anyone on the crew, except maybe Zoro. Chopper finally relented, “She’s got a dairy intolerance!” Sanji stepped back; he looked like he had been stabbed in the heart, “How could I have been so stupid? Mushroom soup! I tried to give her mushroom soup!”
He gripped the counter, holding his weight on it in case he fainted, “Oi, Sanji! You need to sit down before you pass out!” Chopper worried, circling the man. But Sanji pushed away from the counter, hearts replacing his eyes, “But (Y/N)-chan rejected my offer in such a polite way as to not hurt my feelings!”
“Oh, brother,” Chopper huffed out, stepping away and slowly walking to the exit. Dinner came too quickly for your liking; the annoying thing was you were starving. You had avoided the kitchen all day; you couldn’t face Sanji right now, knowing he’d offer you anything you ever wanted. Once again, you were the last one in the room and the last one to sit down. Sanji brought everyone’s meal out, a beautiful pink piece of salmon, with veggies and a cream based sauce covering everything on the plate. It looked amazing; you could feel your mouth watering.
Sanji slowly approached you; your plate was the last to go down. You couldn’t bear to look at him; you kept your full attention on the table and how the cutlery shone in the ship’s lighting. Sanji placed the plate down in front of you; it was the same meal as everyone else's, except the sauce was different. You looked up at Sanji, a sultry smile on his lips. You turned back to your meal and took tentative bites. You had to eat; your stomach was going to start eating your insides if you didn’t. You would just have to scoff it down then excuse yourself to live out the pain in the privacy of your room.
But after a few minutes, the pain never came. Once everyone was done, you helped clear the dishes until you were left alone with Sanji. He had his back facing you, his hands deep into the soapy sink water. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows; you felt your cheeks darken at the sight- something about how homely he looked. You continued to wipe the counter, trying to act nonchalant, “Thank you for dinner tonight; it was very nice.”
“I’m glad your appetite came back,” he hummed, washing the soap off of a plate. You bit your lip, your teeth chewing the soft flesh; you were full of nerves. You started wiping in larger circles, slowly approaching the man by the sink, “I do have a question though,” you mused. Sanji hummed lowly for you to continue, “I noticed that my sauce was totally different to everyone else’s. Do you know why?”
Sanji stalled; the cup he was holding was lost under the bubbles. He grabbed the tea towel next to him and started wiping his hands, throwing the rag onto his shoulder once he was done. He turned around to face you, his ass leaning against the edge of the counter, a cocky smile on his lips, “I was wondering if you would notice or not; I made it especially for you.”
“Why? Why am I special?” you huffed, a little annoyed. You didn’t want to be treated differently; you didn’t want to cause any more hassle to his already busy schedule. Cooking a meal for nine people was already challenging enough, but now he has to cook a special separate portion for you? It wasn’t fair.
“You know why you’re special,” he simply replied, moving closer to you. You squeezed the rag in your hand, a little bit of the cleaning solution dribbling across your fingers from the tension, “Oh, because of the intolerance thing? I don’t want you treating me differently; it’s not fair on you. I’ll get over it, or I’ll cook my own mea-”
Sanji snatched the cloth from your hands, pushing you back into the countertop. He grabbed your waist with ease and lifted you up; you had just cleaned this too.
“You’re special because I like you, so you get special treatment.”Your mouth was wide open, “You could have told me about your allergy; it’s no trouble at all.”
“But- But I don’t want to be a pain.”
“You’re being a pain by not letting me help you. Everyone on this ship gets fed, everyone. Got it?” You nodded your head. Sanji was so close to you, his breath fanning across your lips.
“Besides, you were getting special treatment from me way before this intolerance thing,” you gasped as he rushed in to kiss you. Sparks flew from your body, your mind completely buzzing. The dishes were left undone, so was the rest of the cleaning. All that mattered was Sanji and how he pressed up against you. He pulled away slowly, his eyes darting to yours.
pairings: sanji x vamp!afab!reader, zoro x vamp!afab!reader
summary: sanji's done waiting for his turn to be fed on by you. zoro's dedicated in doing his job as the crew's vice-captain and (perhaps gets a boner watching you and sani)
content: vampire discussion, blood drinking, euphoric feelings, lust described, accidentally cucked zoro but it's because zoro genuinely cares for the crew, hinted at zosan
related to: vamp!reader, luffy & zoro | vamp!reader and law | inspired by this ask but i forgot the smut lmao!
You'd done this enough times to know that the hardest part was never the hunger.
The hardest part, always, was the asking. Sitting across from someone you cared about and saying, quietly, ‘I need something from you since I’m not normal’ — that never got easier. The vulnerability of it sat wrong in you, even now on the Thousand Sunny, with a crew who had made it abundantly clear that they intended to be impossible to keep at arm's length, no matter how hard you tried.
Sanji had been the one to ask in the end, which truly shouldn’t have surprised you.
He'd come to find you after dinner while you were on the upper deck watching the water, and he'd leaned against the rail beside you with his hands in his pockets and said, in a tone that was going for casual and landing somewhere more deliberate: I meant what I said. About going first. I know you need it and I know you've been waiting, or more likely starving, so come to my room tonight if you want. We'll figure it out.
You'd looked at him. At the slight set of his jaw, the way he was watching the horizon instead of you, giving you the privacy of being able to say no without it being a thing.
You'd said yes.
Zoro had walked past the door to your cabin that evening while you were getting ready, and he'd stopped, and the two of you had looked at each other, an entire conversation had happened in the space of about four seconds without a word exchanged — because that was what happened when someone had sat with you in a stone room and let you drink from them and covered you with their coat after, and you'd made a quiet and serious pact in the weeks that followed, the kind that only made sense between two people who understood each other's particular relationship with worst-case scenarios.
'“If I lose control, you'd said to him once, plainly, when it was just the two of you. If something goes wrong and I can't pull myself back — I need to know someone will stop it. Someone I trust.”
He hadn't made it dramatic. He'd just looked at you and said yeah, alright, the way he agreed to most things that mattered, like the weight of it was something he could carry without ceremony.
So when he paused outside your door that evening, and you met his eyes, the question was already answered. He gave one small nod. You gave one back.
He'd be there. Just in case.
Sanji's room was warm and smelled like the galley; something spiced, something clean, the particular domestic warmth of a person who fed people for a living and carried that vocation in the fabric of their space. He'd cleared a section of his desk and set a glass of water on it that was entirely for you, you suspected. He was nervous and needed something to do with his hands, and he'd changed into a softer shirt, collar open, which meant he'd thought about this and prepared, and that small evidence of effort made something in you go tender.
Zoro was already there when you arrived, leaning in the corner near the window with his arms crossed, not quite part of the room and not outside it either. Positioned, you noted, at an angle where he could see everything.
Sanji registered him with a look that lasted about a second and a half before he decided, apparently, that arguing about it was more effort than it was worth. "You're not going to stand there the whole time," he said.
"Probably," Zoro said.
"That's not—"
"Sanji." You set your bag on the desk, unclipping the clasp. "It's fine. I asked him to come."
Sanji looked at you; something in his expression shifted. Not hurt, you didn't think, just recalibrating. He glanced at Zoro again, and Zoro looked back at him with an expression that communicated nothing except I am here and I am not leaving. After a moment Sanji pulled out the chair from his desk and turned it to face the room and sat in it.
"Alright," he said, which was its own kind of generosity.
You pulled out the bandages, the small vial of salve, the folded cloth. Arranged them on the desk in the order you'd use them. And then you turned around and found them both watching you — Sanji with his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand, curious and composed; Zoro from his corner, arms still crossed, gaze steady.
"Okay," you said. "Do you want me to walk you through it first?"
"Walk me through it," he said, decided. "Please."
You nodded. "When I bite, my saliva contains — I don't have a better word for it than venom, but it's not — it doesn't hurt you. It's more like a numbing agent. It means you'll feel pressure, warmth, but not pain. At least, not if I'm being careful." You paused.
"I'm always careful."
"You weren’t careful with me," Zoro said.
You turned to look at him. "I was in a stone room after being hungry for days and our typical crew adventures. And you volunteered."
"I'm just saying—"
"You're not helping."
The corner of his mouth moved. "I didn't feel any pain," he said, to Sanji, which was — in Zoro terms — essentially a glowing endorsement.
Sanji seemed to accept this. "What else?"
"The aftercare is straightforward. I'll give you a small amount of my own blood to close the wound — it accelerates healing significantly — and then bandage it. The whole process takes maybe ten, fifteen minutes once we start. You might feel a little lightheaded after, depending on how much you've eaten today—"
"He didn't eat enough at dinner," Zoro said.
Sanji looked at him. "How would you know what I—"
"You were talking to Nami the whole time and forgot about your plate."
A pause.
"That's — I was having a conversation —"
"Should Chopper be on standby?" you asked, pulling the two of them back before this became something else. It was a question you'd genuinely been considering — Chopper, for all that he was still learning the specifics of your biology, was meticulous and fast and the idea of having him within call was a comfort.
"For Sanji?" Zoro considered. "He'll be fine. He eats enough regularly that a little lightheadedness shouldn't—"
"I eat very well, thank you—"
"I know, I just said—"
"Chopper's on the deck," you said. "If anything feels off, we stop and get him. That's not a debate." You looked at Sanji. "Okay?"
He met your eyes, and you can see that something in his expression settled. The particular quality that appeared on his face when someone treated him like his well-being was worth the administrative effort of protecting. "Okay," he said.
You continued on about positioning, about the specific angle of his neck that worked best, when you heard it.
Not loud or dramatic. Just — a change. A rhythm that had been steady for the last ten minutes suddenly kicks up a half-step, the way a song shifts key. Sanji's heartbeat, climbing from its baseline into something quicker, the beats spacing themselves slightly differently.
You didn't look at him right away. You kept talking, finished your sentence about jaw angle, and used the moment to reset your face to something neutral. Nerves, you told yourself. He's nervous. That's completely reasonable.
You glanced at him.
He was looking at you. There was a faint line between his brows, like he'd noticed something happening in himself and was in the process of analyzing it, and when your eyes met, he produced a quick, easy smile and looked away.
Nerves, you told yourself again.
"Can I—" You gestured at the space between his knees. He was still in the chair, knees slightly apart, posture open. "It's easier if I'm close.”
Sanji absorbed this, nodded, then moved back slightly to make room.
You stepped into the space between his legs and immediately felt his warmth. He ran warm, Sanji, and up close, the heat of him was a kind of ambient comfort that you hadn't expected to notice as much as you did. You were close enough that you could see the individual lines at the corners of his eye when he looked up at you, the way his throat moved when he swallowed.
You brought your hand up slowly, two fingers beneath his chin, tilting. He let you move him, tracking your face, and you guided his head to the left, just slightly, carefully, until the long line of his neck was exposed, and the pulse point rose to meet the light. You could see it, the soft throb of it, patient and rhythmic, and you let yourself look at it for one moment before lifting your eyes back to his.
"Okay?" you said quietly, voice lower, eyes flickering red as your hunger fought for control.
"Yes," he said, his voice gaining a bit of a rasp.
You leaned in and pressed your lips to the pulse point.
Just that, just a kiss, light and deliberate, the way you always wanted to start with him; sweet.
The sound Sanji made was small and involuntary, and he clearly hadn't expected to make it, because you heard his breath catch immediately after in what was definitely an attempt to walk it back. You kept your face carefully neutral against his neck.
"That's normal," you murmured. "The venom, even just the saliva from the kiss, starts to relax the nervous system. You might feel a little floaty."
"Right," he said. A beat. "Yes. That's — yes."
You pulled back to look at him, then you swept your tongue gently over the spot, sealing the location in your mind, warming it, letting the saliva do its work. You watched his eye flutter half-shut with an expression that he was doing his absolute best to keep composed.
"Sanji." You waited for him to focus. "I'm going to bite now. Still okay?"
"Extremely," he said, which was not the word you'd been expecting and made you laugh, just slightly, warm and surprised against his skin.
"Hold still," you said.
You bit down.
His blood hit your tongue, and the relief was immediate and deep, the particular satisfaction of feeding properly, from the source, without the distance of preservation or the apology of a substitute — and the sound you made was low and grateful, and you felt his hands jump to your waist like they'd been waiting there.
But then, his blood told you things his face hadn't.
That was the part people didn't know about, the part that was hardest to explain: that blood carried more than iron and salt, more than the biological baseline of a person. It carried feeling, the emotional weather of someone, their interior climate, and you were practiced enough now that you couldn't unknow what you tasted.
Sanji was not just nervous.
The particular warmth you were tasting, the brightness of it — this wasn't anxiety. This was want, distilled and undeniable, and it was pointed directly at you, and had apparently been building since before you'd even crossed the room.
Your teeth slipped slightly deeper, both of you made a sound.
His hands tightened at your waist, both of them now, pulling you closer in a way that seemed more instinctive than conscious, his grip firm, and you felt him exhale against your temple, slow and effortful, like he was managing something. Your hand slid to cup the back of his neck, supporting him, keeping him steady, and the loop of it — the warmth and the want and the relief all braided together — was disorienting in the best possible way.
You existed, for a moment, in just that. The pull and the warmth and his hands and the sound of his heartbeat loud and close.
And then you heard another one.
The same rhythm shift. The same key change. A heartbeat across the room, climbing in a pattern you now recognized intimately, and it pulled you back into yourself enough to turn your head — just slightly, not breaking contact, just enough to look.
Zoro was not in his corner.
He'd moved, at some point, closer, and he was watching with an expression that was working very hard to be the controlled, observational face of someone performing a straightforward protective function. His arms were still crossed. His jaw was set.
But his heartbeat said something completely different.
You looked at him directly. He registered that you were looking at him about two full seconds after you'd started, and in those two seconds his expression did something complicated and unguarded — a flash of something before the control came back down over it, and then he looked away abruptly, toward the wall. Like the wall had become profoundly interesting.
The back of his neck was slightly red.
You let yourself have one moment of private, helpless warmth about this, and then you gave Sanji one long, final pull — thorough, careful, making sure you'd taken enough to sustain you properly — and slowly withdrew.
The absence of contact was almost as loud as the feeding had been.
Sanji exhaled. Long and slow, his head tipping back, his eye closed, his hands still loosely at your waist like he'd forgotten to move them and wasn't in any rush to remember. He looked, in a word, wrecked. Beautifully so, pleasantly so, the soft undone quality of someone who had just been somewhere deeply comfortable and hadn't fully returned yet.
You swallowed, letting the last of his blood settle. Then you lowered your head and ran your tongue slowly over the wound — your saliva already working, the small punctures beginning to close under it — and felt him shiver.
A familiar crinkling sound from your right.
You turned to see Zoro was holding out a wound dressing, still not looking at you, face directed firmly at the middle distance with the focused neutrality.
"Thank you," you said.
He said no words, but you catch his affirmed grunt.
You took the dressing and pressed it gently over the spot, smoothing the edges down with your thumb. Then, because it felt like the right thing and also because you wanted to, you leaned forward and kissed the bandage.
Sanji made a very small pleased sound.
You pulled back and looked at him.
His expression was somewhere between dazed and deeply pleased. The look of a man who had expected something manageable and had encountered something else entirely. His visible eye found yours and stayed there, soft and warm and a little unfocused.
"Hi," you said, burshing his hair to rest more comfortably on his face.
"Hi," he said, dreamily.
Zoro leaned over to look at him. "He needs to be grounded," he said, with the tone of someone delivering a medical assessment. "Put some weight on him, he looks like he's about to float off."
"That's—" Sanji started.
"Accurate," you said.
Before Sanji could argue, Zoro manhandled you both, so you’re on the bed, guiding you onto Sanji's lap with the same practical energy he brought to rearranging cargo before a storm. Sanji's arms came around you immediately, instinctively, like his body had been waiting for a reason to do that, and you felt him settle — the slight easing of tension in his frame, the way his breathing slowed.
"Better," Zoro said, satisfied, and then apparently decided this meant he could also sit on the bed properly, and did so, close enough that his shoulder was warm against yours.
Sanji pressed his mouth to your temple. Then your cheek. Then, when you turned slightly, the corner of your jaw — soft and unhurried, a string of small, grateful kisses that he delivered with the devotion of someone who had a great deal of feeling and had just found a viable outlet for it.
"Thank you," he murmured, between one and the next. "Sincerely. Genuinely. You're extraordinary, do you know that? The way you—" Another kiss. "—I didn't expect it to feel like—"
"You're rambling," Zoro said.
"I'm expressing gratitude," Sanji said, with dignity.
"Mm." Zoro rearranged himself against the headboard and extended his legs out alongside both of you with ease. The three of you settled into something comfortable and close and quietly warm, the room still and amber-lit around you.
Sanji's arms stayed around you. His heartbeat, under your ear, had slowed back to something easy.
After a moment, he said, with the studied casualness of someone who had been thinking about this for at least thirty seconds and was trying to make it sound spontaneous: "So."
Zoro didn't look at him.
"When's Zoro's turn?"
The silence that followed was exquisite.
You looked up at Zoro, who looked at the ceiling with the expression of a man who had made a mistake and was only now discovering.
Outside, the Sunny moved gently with the tide. Inside, the three of you remained in the warm and easy orbit of each other, and nobody was in any hurry to leave.
a/n: this was a request, that then inspired the vamp!law fic, but i somehow forgot to post this one first, but that's just the way things go! i hope you guys enjoy since i really do love to play around in this universe and explore the character's biting/possessive kink.
while half the crew is down just because they love you and know it's something you need to survive, they don't see the problem. additionally, some of them love the idea of being deeply connected to you, almost chosen. also as a way to prove that their yours these kinky fuckers
lemme know if you want some headcannons about the vamps in this universe/skills since this is fun for me.
also, yes, the agreement between reader and zoro is suppose to mimic the agreement zoro made with sanji in the wano arc, i thought it would be a nice touch. not sure if i want this to be set post wano, or pre, that way when sanji and zoro has that conversation, it tickles something in zoro. i think that it would make a great emotional fic where we peel through the layers since that's some heavy shit to have to potentially end your crewmate you know? especially when adding on the romantic implications within this fic?
editing the next part of the yandere!straw hat crew to post soon!
as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! i love you very much, here’s a kiss from me to you 😘
buy me a coffee | dc masterlist | anime masterlist
Self explanatory, NSFW alphabet headcanons for my husband
CW: NSFW (MDNI)
𖤐 A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
So so SOOOO clingy. As soon as you're done he immediately collapses into cuddling. He just wants to be as close to you as possible.
After a few minutes of cuddling tho he will start to ask if you need anything. Will offer to get you water, run you a bath, cook you something if you're hungry, etc
If you’re feeling sore, he’s got you. We all know this man is good with his hands. He'll massage any of you're sore muscles and apologies if he was to rough
𖤐 B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
On himself, his hands obviously. They're used for cooking you you're favorite meals, holding you close, and pleasuring you in any and all ways imaginable.
On you, he cant choose. He loves every part of you more than anything else, but if he had to it would be you're smile. He loves seeing you happy and the mere idea that you being happy is his doing? Best thing in the world for him
𖤐 C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Sanji prefers to cum inside of you rather than anywhere else, but lets be real, he'd cum anywhere as long as you asked him to
if he can’t do it inside though he likes coming on your stomach
𖤐 D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He'll never admit it but sanji gets jealous very easily. He's not proud of it but he cant help it. Seeing someone else flirting with you just makes his blood boil
Every time it happens he has to stop himself from just dragging you away, or worse going off on the person stealing your attention from him
𖤐 E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
None. Obviously he knows what sex is, he knows the basics, but that's about it.
He would be very nervous your first time and end up making a lot of mistakes. You'd defiantly have to guide him to show him what you like
But sanji is a pleaser at heart and he will spend HOURS studying and learning what you like to make sure he makes you feel as good as he possibly can from here on out
𖤐 F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Maybe a little boring but Missionary, he just wants to see your face and be able to watch all the pretty expressions you make, he loves the intimacy of it.
A close second would be cowgirl. He always gets so transfixed on watching his cock disappear inside you. Though he always caves and pulls you into his chest so he can do the work for you
𖤐 G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He'd definitely take sex very seriously, but he may let the occasional joke slip here and there.
He's almost never going to purposely try and be funny during though
𖤐 H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Sanji is the only man on the crew that canonically bathes daily, so trust he's well groomed. not in a "shaves everything down to nothing" kinda way, but he keeps things trimmed and neat
He does not give a FUCK if you have hair though. shaved? Cool! Not shaved? Cool! He's all up in there regardless
𖤐 I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Sanji is madly in love with you and he loves to make it known to you often, even outside of sex.
During sex he'll hold your hand, kiss you all over, whisper sweet things to you, literally all of it. He needs you to know that sex is special and that having it with you is even more so
𖤐 J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Before you he did it basically whenever he had a chance
When he with you though, almost never. He doesn’t wanna jerk off to someone that isn’t you, but he doesn’t wanna jerk off to you without you knowing cause that makes him feel like a perv (not that he isnt but-). Hed much rather be with you than his hand
But if he’s THAT desperate… he might rub one out to the thought of you.
𖤐 K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
PRAISEEEEEE (giving and reviving). He will sing your praises all day and night but the second you praise him? Oh baby he MELTS
Marks. He loves having you leave your mark on him and he will proudly show them off. Same goes for marking you
Hair pulling. Only receiving though, he'd be to worried that he'd hurt you to do it, but he absolutely loves when you do it to him
𖤐 L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
On the merry, since no one but nami had their own room, he would be VERY hesitant about doing it on the ship. He doesn't want anyone else seeing you like that
If you caught him in the right mood he'd happily find one of the more secluded places on the ship to do it, but only late at night when he's sure no one else is awake. But 9 times out of 10 he'd want to wait till you've stopped at an island
Once the crew gets the Sunny though, and now he has his own room, it becomes his all time favorite place. Any surface in his room is fair game but usually its his bed
𖤐 M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You. That’s literally it. Doing anything, wearing anything, saying anything. Literally just ask and he’ll say yes.
That and domestic stuff with you, especially cooking. it just makes him all warm and fuzzy (and sometimes very horny).
𖤐 N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything that could hurt you, physically or verbally. His biggest fear is hurting you, so he’s never risking it. Ever. The furthest he'll go is biting you
Degrading is a hard no, giving and receiving. He could never say something mean to you on purpose, and he got enough of that growing up that he does NOT need it from his partner too.
Any restraints other than maybe your/his hands cuffed or tied
𖤐 O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
GIVERRRRRRRR
If he could Sanji would spend the entire day between your thighs. He will not stop until you finish multiple times. He just loves your taste so much, literally addicted to you. He'd beg to go down on you. its one of his favorite pass times
Though he much prefers giving he'd never say no to receiving either. He'd be very gentle with you, letting you go at your own pace, holding your hair out of your face or just holding your cheek, sometimes when he gets too deep in it he will accidently pull your hair or push your head lower on him
𖤐 P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
9 times out of 10 with sanji it's going to be very slow and sensual. just worshipping you as he goes, taking his time to feel every part of your body, deep strokes, tender kisses, and whispered murmurs of love.
but there is that 1% of the time, maybe luffy got into the fridge again, or zoro's been getting on his nerves a little too much, and he just REALLY needs some stress relief. He wouldn't really be rough but it would be fast and rushed. Though he always makes sure to take you soft and slow afterwards whenever it happens
𖤐 Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Quickies will never be sanji's preference, he wants to be able to take his time and worship you properly.
On the very rare occasion though you might be able to convince him, only when both of you are especilly desperate for eachother
𖤐 R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Sanji doesn't seem like a big risk taker, but he's totally game for experimenting
You want to try out a new position? He's totally down. A new kink? As long as it doesn't cross anyone's boundaries. He would also very much be one to bring up new things he wants to try, though he might be a bit shy about it
He might be ok with taking some risks, like making out in a place you could easily get caught, teasing you under the table, whispering filthy things in your ear in public, but thats about it
𖤐 S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Sanji has very good stamina, he’s not part of the monster trio for nothing. He can easily go multiple rounds back to back
Though he would much prefer to go 1-2 rounds where he can take his time with you than 4-5 rounds that end as quick as they started
𖤐 T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He wouldn't own any, nor would he really care to use them i feel. he'd much rather make you feel good by himself then use something else
𖤐 U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
sanji is a very fair man, he wants to give you anything and everything you could possibly desire and that very much extends to the bedroom. One little "please" from you and hes folding instantly almost every time
But that doesn't mean he cant be a tease sometimes. There's just something about you shivering beneath him, begging to be touched, that he cant get enough of. It never lasts long though, like i said he is very weak to your pleas
𖤐 V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Sanjji tries to be quiet and discreet, but ends up failing miserably every time. He moans, groans, grunts, whimpers, AND whines. the whole 9 yards.
Hes also a talker, he LOVEEES to talk you through it. Telling you how good you feel, how proud of you he is, how pretty you look, etc etc.
He does tend to muffle himself by burying his face in your neck or kissing you, he'd just much rather hear you then himself
𖤐 W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He LIVES for when you tease him. He will become a whimpering, whiny mess the second you take control, and he doesn't even bother hiding how much he likes it.
𖤐 X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Long but more on the slender side.
6 inches soft, 7.5 inches hard, slightly curved up, small veins running all over it. His tip is VERY sensitive
𖤐 Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
This man is the biggest yearner that has ever yearned. He is extremely easy to rile up. The want for you is always present and never goes away. actually loses his mind a little bit if you go more than a week without at least letting him go down on you
Though of course he can keep it in his pants if you're not in the mood
𖤐 Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He'll never let himself fall asleep before you, even if he's exhausted. he has to make sure you’re comfortable and all cleaned up before he'll let himself relax
Only when he knows you're fully asleep, he will fall asleep basically right after
Thank you for reading!!! If there is a character you would like me to make one of these for feel free to send me an ask for them! You can look at my pinned post to see what fandoms I’m the most into rn :)
💥~☆ Aaa! This was such a fun thing to write, i loved finding cute little nicknames for Sanji to keep calling us all! I've put a little sweet treat of a sprinkle of smut for us all too, I hope that you all enjoy~☆
💥~☆ This is a fic that I am gifting to my amazing moot @daisydovley! I love reading your stuff and I think you deserve some time with your husband lol!
Vinsmoke Sanji x f! Reader,
💥~☆ Word Count: 3k
💥~☆ Warnings: Eating out, use of good girl, praise kink, cumming in pants, no use of y/n,
The One Piece wasn’t too far away now, the excitement in the crew had expanded twofold if possible, now that you were getting so close. Gol D. Rogers treasure, after years of no one being able to find it, you were so close now. Close enough to finally achieving Luffys dream.
Luffy had been practically vibrating constantly as he could barely hide how much he was looking forward to it. He'd been dreaming of this since he was a child. Your captain grabs you by the shoulder, giving you a toothy grin as he slings his arm around your shoulder.
”__! Look, look, can you see it? It’s in the distance, just waiting for us!”
Luffy grins, looking at you, his other hand pointing in the distance towards where Raftel lay.
”We’re finally gonna get the One Piece and I’m gonna be king of the pirates!”
”That you are Captain”
You smile as you pat his shoulder and Luffy detangles himself from you, his feet bouncing in his sandals as he restlessley paces the deck, barely sitting still. The sun was setting and Franky and Brook work on getting the anchor down for the night as you dock at the second to last island for a final supplies run, or atleast... thats what you were told by everyone. You’ve all been fighting so hard and for so long, so many trails and tribulations, the one piece was barely an island away, it felt surreal… to finally be so close.
The deck is in a comfortable silence. Quiet is rare on the ship, but there are small moments where silence creeps in like mist.
"Ahhh, im so bored! Why cant we just get it now rather than waiting for Sanji t-"
Luffy is quickly and conveniently hit over the head by the handle of Kitetsu as Zoro gives a quick glare. And well, your suspicions have started to raise because Luffy never goes quiet like this... A sheepish look crosss your captain's face before he quickly walks over to Brook. The theme of Binks Brew starting to drift from Brooks violin as Luffy starts to sing along off key.
You can’t help but notice that Zoro is quietly smirking as he lays back on the deck again. Chopper is sat next to Usopp on deck trying to come up with a new administrator for some antidotes that he’s created. Robin, Nami and Jinbe are sitting by the garden. Nami has her tongue stuck out as she prunes her tangerine bushes, her nails deftly moving as she checks each branch, looking for signs of rot.
”Hey! Can’t have a preemptive celebration without some COLA!” Franky grins as he moves over and drops the cooler full of cola right in the middle of them.
Sanji had dinner dished out, everyone's favourites perfectly presented for them as always. It was a celebration after all.
“Whilst we may not have got it yet, I don't see any harm in having a grand dinner beforehand. A good luck dish”
Usopp then pipes up “Y'know, this is exactly like what we saw Dorry and Brogy do back in Elbaph! The grand feasts they had before they set off to their next adventure”, the sniper was grinning as his hands were covered in slightly melted plastic and residue from the glue gun cartridges that got everywhere.
“After all these years, were finally so close” Robin muses softly. Resting her chin on the palm of her hand as she smiles up at Franky. Summoning a hand made out of blossoms as she steals his sunglasses and places them on the bridge of her nose
"It would be quite the tragedy if some unforeseen circumstances were to sink the ship right as we were about to dock at Raftel, shattering the sunny to the bottom of the ocean"
"H-hey!" Franky protests, paling. "Thats not gonna happen! The sunny will get us through any sort of freak waves or weather events!" Franky declares proudly, thudding his hand against the planks the deck for good measure.
Sanji sits down next to you, handing over your plate and some cutlery, it was your favourite...perfectly cooked, as always. You can't help but smile as you see a small love heart drawn in sauce on the side of your plate.
"Ma douce" Sanji smiles as he leans back on the deck next to you. But theres small things about him, his eyes keep darting to you not so subtly, his hands even seem to be shaking slightly. All small things that you chalk up to exhaustion, it has been a shitfest recently with the final push.
"Sanji"
"Yes, Ma douce?"
"Are you staying up late again? You know you can always ask me to help you prep early in the morning or at night to help you take a load off"
"Nonsense my darling, there is no need to worry, a lady like you should get her beauty sleep. Though, you dont need it~"
Sanji takes your wrist gently, and presses his lips in a soft kiss to the top of your hand, before pressing a kiss to each of your fingers. He smiles at you.
"You need not do anything"
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutley positive, my darling" Sanji smiles, starting to eat his own dinner beside you. The two of you sitting in comfortable silence.
"Though, there is something that I believe you could do. Since we've been cooped up on the ship for a while, shall we go for a walk?"
Sanji asks, finishing his meal after a few minutes. He takes your empty plate and stands up.
Washing up never took long, you had taken to help Sanji with it ever since you had both started dating. Making sure that since the cook made such delightful meals that he shouldn't have to worry about the cleanup. Besides...it was an excuse to throw bubbles at eachother, and then proceed to spend even more time cleaning up the water that usually ends up covering the tiles.
~☆~
And so here you are.
Jumping off the deck as you usually do when you spring into battle. But this time? Rather than an enemy waiting below? Sanji is stood there with his arms out.
"Jump mon cherie! I'll catch you!"
And so you do. Sanji easily catches you, before spinning you both in a circle and then placing you down on the ground next to him. He shoves his hands in his pockets and you can see his fingers clench around something, its small, it doesn't protrude from his waistcoat pocket.
Hmm.
You dont ask, its clear that your cook is up to something and he has never disappointed before.
The last time Sanji had hidden something from you, it had been a full sugar glass bouquet of sunflowers. He had made them for you because well. Whilst normal flowers may die, Sanji believed that the taste of those sugar syrup flowers will stay with you forever.
But it seems like Sanji has a specific place in mind as he starts to walk with you through the forest. Theres so many different kinds of flowers. Wild flowers that have thousands of butterflies and bees within them as they pollinate and make wven more flowers bloom. Its beautiful. Birds fluttering through the trees to their nests and their songs filling the air with beautiful songs and chirps.
Old gravel paths line the island that seem to indicate that there have been people who have lived here before, but are clearly abandoned now.
What you dont know, is that for the past few weeks between dinners and sparring sessions with Zoro, Sanji has been getting into a fuck ton of debt by trying to persuade Nami to find the perfect island for you both.
For a specific moment.
Nami had spent hours trying to find an island that fit the exact description of the many many notes that Sanji had made since you had gotten together. She would do it for you for free, but well, she has to put Sanji in more debt because...its funny. Sanji knew you loved flowers, lakes and forests. He just wanted to make it fit your tastes exactly, you deserved perfection especially for something so important. Something that had been making Sanji nervous for weeks, he didnt know how you would react, was it to soon? Did you want to find the one piece before he did this? Was he getting the signals right that you even wanted to get married?
Robin had helped him, drafting ideas for what he should do. The archeologist had been a godsend with subtly and quietly stepping in and distracting you when you got that worried look in your eye when Sanji nervously adjusted his collar for the seventeenth time in a day as the day he had planned got closer and closer.
And when you walk alongside Sanji, shoes crunching against the gravel path? You come to a small opening in the forest, there is a large lake that shimmers with moonlight. Its a strawberry full moon out tonight, the lake covered with a small pink glow.
Two swans have their necks entwined as they sleep within the reeds in the lake, resting by the nest that they've made for their eggs.
Strawberry moons typically signal the reward from the fruits of your labour, meaning abundance, sweetness and celebration.
Zeff had always said that strawberry moons were lucky, that the sky turning a mix of gold, pink and orange skies when they were on the horizon was good luck for marriages and the beginning of relationships. Sanji had asked you out on a strawberry moon...and he intended to marry you on a strawberry moon.
"Sanji, this lake is beautiful. But why are we-"
You begin and as you go to look at him again?
Sanji is on one knee, his hand reaching into his pocket as he starts to pull out a small...egg timer?
"__. My darling, you have been the light of my life ever since we met in Water Seven, ever since you joined this crew, I have been unable to think of myself with any other woman to have a future with except you."
Sanji starts, before slowly opening the egg timer.
"...You've helped me so much during the time that we've been dating. Times where I lost myself and feared that I wouldnt ever be good enough for such pure love. That I was undeserving... But no matter what happens, you always see the good in me, you are always there to kiss the pain away."
Inside of the egg timer is a ring, one that has many small details. Its clear that its been forged and soldered together by Franky, no other person could make such neat metalwork.
The ring is made out of Damascus steel. Damascus steel specifically from the exact set of kitchen knives that Sanji had gotten from Zeff when he had mastered his first ever original dish and Zeff had deemed him worthy of a true chefs knife set. Sanji had treasured them ever since he got them, he still used the other knives in that set to this day and would use them for many more years to come. He had purposefully picked that specific knife because of the squids, octopus and shark patterns that had been etched into the steel with acid. That now covered the ring shape it had been made into.
It was the blade that best encapsulated what he believed the All Blue would look like, thats why he had picked it. Because not only did you believe his dream was possible to find, but every time he looks at you he remembers the wonder in your eyes at every dish he made you, with every tale he had told you about that sea.
In the middle of the ring were three gems. The first was your birthstone, Sanji had asked Usopp as the sniper knew a lot about geodes and gems, due to how Usopp had made projects in the past such as earrings for Nami as a peace offering or embelishing Brooks violin with small gemstones that represented his old crew so they were always with him.
The middle gem wasnt a gem. It was a shard from the bottle of the first drink that you had shared together. That bottle of mulled wine which had been shared during the celebration of freeing Water Seven from CP9 and saving Robin during the Enies Lobby fight... A bottle you had both sputtered from because holy shit it tasted like it had the same alcohol content as Absynth. Shipwrights drank strong booze.
And the final gemstone was Sanji's own birthstone. Aquamarine. It was a beautiful gem that was as blue as the sea. A gemstone that symbolises tranquility, calm and clear communication, but has also been known to be carried by sailors as a protective talisman for safe passage across storm ridden seas.
The wine bottle shard was nestled between both of your birthstones, acting as a bridge between you both. The same bottle that had started your relationship...
Had he kept it all this time? Of course he had.
You didn't even realise the tears that start to slip down your cheeks as you end up letting out a choked sob. It was so thoughtful, so meaningful.
Sanji immediatley starts to get up from one knee, his eyes widening and immediatley starting to figure out a way to comfort you. And oh god did he do something wrong?
"Yes."
You utter quietly and Sanji blinks a few times.
"I...haven't even asked yet. Mon cherie"
"Then ask"
"Yes ma'am" Sanji has a grin plastered across his face as he almost fumbles the ring, before cursing and catching it and then his hands are so sweaty from keeping a death grip on the ring because he had been terrorfied of losing it because he could not replace it.
"__, will you marry me?"
"Yes, yes of course I will"
You say and Sanji rises up from his knee and slots the ring onto your ring finger. He then presses a kiss to the ring and smiles.
"Have to defintley seal the deal, ma douce"
"And just how many kisses 'defintley' seal the deal?"
"Why, i dont think i can put a number on it, my darling"
"Try"
"Oh? Well at the very least, a billion kisses"
"Well then, you better get started on keeping this deal sealed now, wont you Sanji?"
And my god, the grin that splits across Sanji's face as he picks you up, strong hands from years of hard work in the kitchen. Calloused hands from washing dishes, sharpening knives and breaking open hard shelled fruits. Those same rough hands were now grasping your waist and he moves, spinning you both around.
"Sanji!"
Your hands go around his neck and Sanji takes the opportunity to press multiple pecks to your cheeks, chin and jaw.
"What? Im just working on my kiss quota. A billion a day"
"A day?"
"Of course, mon cherie"
"I dont think theres enough seconds in the day for a billion kisses"
"Well, theres only one way to find out, isnt there ma douce?~"
~☆~
And well, now those same rough hands were holding your legs steady as they were shaking whilst resting ontop of Sanji's shoulders. Sanji's thumbs were rubbing small soothing circles into your thighs as the cooks tongue laps against the folds of your cunt greedily.
"Such a good girl, god, you're so beautiful, so beautiful. How did I get so lucky with you, hmm?~"
Sanji pulls back, but only to look at you. The way that your head is tilted back against the pillows of your bed, your lips half open, your fingers clenching the blankets as you just turn to putty under that expert tongue.
And then Sanji presses a kiss to your inner thigh.
"204" You rasps out hoarse, smiling tiredly as you rest an arm over your forehead, your legs twitching again as
"You're still counting sweetheart?"
Sanji smiles, he doesnt look put together at all. If anything Sanji looks more wrecked than you feel.
"Its not a billion yet"
The cooks tie is askew, his waistcoat is half hanging off of him, his sleeves are pulled up, his belt is lone gone and his pants and shirt are half unbuttoned. That curly chest hair exposed where you have left kisses with lipstick earlier as you both stumbled into bed drom excitement of getting married.
"Sanji~ p-please"
You moan as you shift your legs on his shoulders, trying to pull your husband down to resume taking you apart.
"I know, i know. Such a good girl for me, so perfect, arent you, my wife?~" Sanji is babbling now, just saying whatever comes to his mind because seeing you like this is so perfect to him. The only thing on his mind is to make you feel good, to give you the pleasure you deserve.
"Please~" You keen out again.
"You're so close arent you? Are you going to cum for me darling?"
"Y-yes"
"Good girl"
And seeing how desperate you are, Sanji just dips his head between your thighs once more and keeps lapping his tongue against your folds, dipping the wet muscle further into your cunt just to hear you scream his name.
"Sanji!"
You cry out, and your legs end up going limp as your head rests back against the pillow.
You hear a small shuddering groan rip from Sanji's lips as hes cummed in his pants simply from listening to how much pleasure hes given you, from the excitement that if he can make you fall apart so deliciously just from his tongue, then he can't wait to see how far you're gone when he fucks your cunt with his cock.
Sanji rises from the floor and moves to the bed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you to his chest.
"Such a good girl __, you were so perfect, you taste so good. I love you so much" Sanji whispers into your ear as he moves one of the pillows to rest it between your legs and hips so they are supported for when you fall asleep. He keeps you secure against his chest, making sure that you were comfortable.
2026 by Spark-Canon-Spark. Any and all works cannot be used, edited or republished without the creators permission!
how about you losing your v-card to them? would love to hear your take on it
genre: suggestive??
a/n: I wrote this between packing, so this is def not proofread or edited, but when is any of my stuff really? I write like I'm possessed.
warnings: mdni, 18+, soft! svt, in love! svt, boyfriend! svt, first-time! reader, virgin! reader, praise, dirty talk, size difference, hints/descriptions of different positions, squint to see some fluff, fanfiction, teasing, etc.
wc: 3.1k+
SEUNGCHEOL - Seungcheol says it's easier if you're on top.
He gives you a little smile in reassurance, the corner of his mouth curving up as he looks up at you with a fervent stare. His brown eyes are sparkling, and his big hands feel warm on your waist as your thighs straddle his hips with his guidance.
You think about how big his cock is, how it's thick in girth with a slight curve at the tip, and you blush at wondering how it'll fit. You remember the ache in your jaw when you've given head, and your stomach swirls with anticipation.
"Are you ready?"
He's giving you an out because he can see the way your breath hitches when he angles his cock to your entrance, and he's more than happy to go at this at your pace.
But you've been wanting this, so instead of answering, you lower yourself - gasping when you feel him push past and begin to stretch you deliciously.
You both groan in unison, and Seungcheol's grip on your waist tightens, but he doesn't take charge yet; he wants to see you take him all by yourself first.
JEONGHAN - It's all feverish kisses and hands worshipping your body. Jeonghan's taking his time to explore all your dips and curves, teeth ghosting along the spots you felt more sensitive so he can hear the way you soften up for him.
He doesn't give you a chance to overthink it, to worry about how you look when he's leaning over you. Instead, he notes all the ways your body responds to his so beautifully. The way your back arches when his hands sneak down your waist, how your legs automatically part when he slots himself over you leaning down to give you another kiss.
He checks in at every new sensation, making sure you want him to continue, even making you repeat yourself louder just so he can hear you whine his name after.
He uses his tongue, his fingers, and his words to make you come undone. He wants your pretty eyes to be glossy like your lips, and he wants you needy like he is, because he's wanted you for so long, and now you're grabbing onto him like he's your lifeline, and he thinks you're absolutely perfect.
He tells you that too, just as he's sinking into your pretty pussy, watching the way your eyebrows pinch and your mouth drops open. You're gorgeous, fucking gorgeous.
JOSHUA - Joshua talks you through it while guiding you up and down on his cock.
He kisses you ardently between asking for your consent. “Are you sure? Let me hear you say what you want, my love. Tell me what you need." He wants to make sure you really are ready like you said you are because he knows first times matter, and he’s fine with whatever you want.
So when you say the words all breathy, your chest heaving from when he’s kissed you silly - he’s all but pawing off your clothes alongside with his.
He manhandles you onto his lap, feeling the heat between your legs get hotter when he gives you praise, and he tells you to take the lead with a little smirk.
There is no doubt that he’s in charge, but it makes both yours and his heart skip a beat when your hand barely wraps around his shaft. And the both of you seem to hold your breath when you guide him to your weeping cunt with a slow confidence.
“There you go. You’re so wet for me, baby, have you been thinking about this for a while? Been wanting t’know how I feel inside you?”
You have to brace a hand on his chest when his words swirl around your brain. He knows just how to rile you up, throbbing in need.
“We’re gonna take this slow, okay? Want you to feel how good it feels when I reach deeper places your fingers can’t.”
JUN - Jun makes you feel so deliriously good that you think you've lost your mind. He takes his time building you up, playing with you, worshipping you, just so he can make you desperate with need and soaking wet.
He knew it was your first time, he knew you had been nervous, and he knew it meant a lot that you chose him, so he doesn't even get close to undressing himself until he's got you crying out his name twice. Once on his tongue, another on his fingers, and it's only the beginning.
When he's finally deemed you ready, your legs tremble, your eyelashes are wet with tears, and he's peppering kisses all over your cheeks, nose, and lips with a cute laugh.
He's made you a babbling mess, and it's perfect because when he finally nestles between your legs, you're like putty in his hands. He's able to easily maneuver you, pushing one of your legs up to give him better access, and when he slides home? There's no discomfort, just a delicious squelch of you welcoming him in, and your eyes roll back just as he coos. "That's it- so wet for me."
HOSHI - Hoshi doesn't realize this was your first time until it's too late.
He never seemed to stop long enough to question it; he just assumed you were taking things slow, even if you two had been dating for a while now.
Both of you led busy lives, and he was perfectly happy with the make-out sessions you two had when you found time to be together. For him, as long as he got to be with you in any type of capacity, he was happy.
He simply went at your pace and never questioned why it never went past some heavy petting and dry humping. His eyes never sparkled any less when that was your limit, and he hardly blinked an eye when you gave an excuse to stop.
So reflecting on it, he definitely should have seen the signs, but any thoughts he had in his head simply disappeared when you kissed him stupid, blindly guiding him from the couch and towards your bedroom.
It only feels natural that he's got you underneath him on the bed, and his brain is all mushy trying to hear all the pretty noises you make as he kisses down your neck. So when your breath catches as he finally sinks into you, he has to blink a few times before he realizes, and then his eyes are widening with realization.
His lips find yours immediately to kiss the discomfort away, and his movements slow to give you time to adjust as he gives you praise. "Doing so well for me, that's it, take it all for me. We’ll take it nice and slow.”
WONWOO - Wonwoo doesn't let go of your hand the entire time.
He holds onto your hand when he kisses you, soft and sweet at the front door of your apartment. He holds onto your hand when you guide him inside with a cute smile, and he holds onto your hand when you find yourself on his lap at the edge of the bed, his fingers laced with yours as his other hand cups the back of your neck deepening your kiss with a low groan.
When you tell him you want more, he makes sure to hold your hand while he trails his kisses down your neck, only letting go of you to help you out of your clothes.
You squeeze his hand when he does something you like, and his lips curve into a knowing grin when you tug on his hand to pull him closer when it becomes too much, and your thighs clamp around his head, keeping him right there. His fingers dig into your thigh as his other hand squeezes yours in reassurance, and the way you say his name swirls around his brain all whiny and soft.
When you're soft and slick, dripping down your thighs, he holds your hand while he guides his cock to your weeping cunt. He gives you a moment to change your mind, but when you squeeze his hand twice, he pushes his hips forward, rocking into you until you take him to the hilt.
Wonwoo squeezes your hand three times to tell you he loves you before he feels you squeeze him back, but it's not his hand that you squeeze, and the feeling makes him curses between praise, pushing your knee up as he pulls his hips back before sliding back in again with a firm stroke.
WOOZI - Woozi doesn't last long when you tell him you're ready to take the relationship further. He knew this was your first time, and he had it all planned out in his head that he'd take it nice and slow for you, guide you along with praise and kisses before he got a front-row seat to what you'd look and feel like coming a part underneath him.
But his mistake was not accounting for how good you'd feel wrapped around him.
Your nails are leaving crescent-shaped indents into his back, your legs are squeezing his hips, and your pretty pussy is trembling around his shaft so deliciously, his moan breaks off into a gasp.
He shudders in pleasure, gasping an "oh fuck" and his eyes are as dilated as yours are as they look at you with alarm. You can feel every inch, every vein throbbing down his length, and when you are just about to question why he stopped moving, you're blinking up in surprise when you feel him twitch.
Woozi's not even halfway in, you had been taking him so well, but now his ears are burning red all the way down to his chest as he suddenly cums without warning. You had felt too good, and it's so unexpected that his head bows until his lips are kissing up your neck feverishly.
He keeps rocking his hips forward, mumbling against your skin that he's going to make up for it, shivering at the sensitivity of his cock as he feels you suck him in deeper, ready to milk him dry.
MINGHAO - Your first time with Minghao is filled with sweet words, hand holding, and lots of eye contact. It's beyond intimate, and Minghao knows it's important because it's your first, he's your first, and his heart is filled with so much love for you that it might burst out of his chest.
He can't stop praising you with soft whispers and even sweeter kisses, while his movements stay slow but firm. He entwines his fingers with yours, keeping them pinned next to your head, and his brain is absolute mush.
Normally, Minghao is quiet, the observer, who has all of his emotions displayed on his face, but his tongue in check - but now? Now, all of that is out the window. He thinks you're gorgeous, lying underneath him, and he's pretty sure he's giving you praise for taking him so well, for feeling so good, and looking so pretty, but in reality all his words are slurring, and he's so down bad he's stuttering.
"Hck - mmph - does this feel good? Hn - o-oh, you're still so tight, it's like you don't want me to leave, baby."
When you fall apart, he watches intently, taking in the way your eyes roll back and your mouth drops open. His pupils dilate into hearts, and his hips don't falter in rhythm, ready to build you up again - addicted to the way you cry his name.
MINGYU - Mingyu refuses to have your first time be anything but perfect.
He's arranged candles, flowers, a home-cooked meal, and curated a playlist. He denies labeling it "lucky" and also denies that his hands are shaking when you settle on his lap an hour after dinner.
You're gorgeous, all soft and sweet, as he takes his time to kiss you. You make the prettiest noises when he does something you like, and his big hands can't help but squeeze and grab at your waist, whispering praise between kisses as you tilt your head back to give him more space.
He doesn't rush anything; instead, you're the one who has to nudge him along when he kisses you senseless, making you all needy enough to whine out his name like a plea.
Then it's all a blur - his palms slide up your back, pulling you closer, and the kiss turns into something more desperate, both of you pulling at one another's clothes like you can't get them off fast enough.
When it gets too much for him, Mingyu's lips find yours again as he carries you back to the bedroom. He checks in to make sure you really want to continue, reassuring you that it's fine if you change your mind, but you've never been more sure than you are right in that moment; and you show him by pulling him in for another kiss, letting yourself get lost in the touch of his hands on your legs, and his lips on your neck as he talks you through it.
DK - DK is unprepared in the best way possible. He knows you trust him, and he knows you're a virgin, so he figured that when the time was right, he'd make it special and show you how much you meant to him.
The plan was to take you out to a fancy dinner, give you flowers, and tell you how much he loves you, but you had other ideas.
In the time that Dokyeom has dated you, you two have had very close calls where he'd kiss you with his hips snug between your thighs, and it was subconscious the way your make-outs would turn into this addictive grind that left you dizzy in the best way possible.
Your moans would be swallowed by him giving you slow-burn kisses, his tongue rolling over yours as his hips rocked into you, and a familiar heat would pool in your lower stomach.
It was delirious to feel this good and be fully clothed, and when Dokyeom's breath hitched as your nails dug into his biceps? Well, screw his plans for a wine-and-dine first time - you wanted him, and you wanted him now.
You barely give him a chance to think when your hands slip to the front of his pants. Your fingers are already unbuttoning them as he pulls away from your lips to catch his breath, and his eyes swirl seeing you look at him with hunger. His cheeks are flushed like yours as he stutters out, "Are you sure? Right now?" And your only response is to drag his zipper down, taking your first time in your own hands, quite literally.
SEUNGKWAN - You two actually made a pact.
You had been friends for a long time, and you really wanted to lose it to someone you trusted. So that's where your best friend Seungkwan comes into play.
You had made him promise over a bottle of tequila that if both of you were single before your next birthday, you'd fuck, and you cashed it in months later when you realized your birthday was coming up. Both of you were single, and you didn't want to deal with it anymore, so bravely, you called him over.
"Are you sure?" Seungkwans asks for the nth time; his eyes have never been more serious than they're now, and it honestly makes you smile from how concerned your friend is - but you two were already naked, and you've never felt more sure in your life.
You see, you never told Seungkwan this, but you loved him, genuinely, and being underneath him had only solidified it.
"Boo," your smile is soft as you take in his pretty eyes, and before your heart can leap fully out of your chest, you pull him down for a kiss. "I love you."
The moment Seungkwan hears you say it, he knows it's different from all the other times you've said it as a friend, and he all but melts into your kiss as it echoes in his mind.
When he confesses to you that he loves you too, your hands are entwined, and his movements are slow but solid, taking your breath away as he pulls you into another kiss to distract you from the slight discomfort of you taking him to the hilt for the first time.
VERNON - It's awkward, filled with laughter, and shared kisses when you lose your virginity to Vernon.
You were honestly beyond nervous and thankful that Vernon tried to take it slow, tried to help you relax with sweet words and slow kisses. But if we're being honest? You were clutching onto his biceps like your life depended on it, thinking too much with your head.
"My love," Vernon's voice is soft, and your cheeks burn with a blush as he rubs his palms up your thighs in reassurance. "If you don't relax, it won't fit."
Even in the darkness of his bedroom, he knows you, and the minute his words register, you both freeze before falling into a fit of giggles that breaks you from overthinking stupor.
What you didn't realize until now is that sex didn't have to be serious, and the laughter eases something in your chest and in your head, and before you know it, his hips are flush against your ass, and your giggles turn into a breathy moan that'll be seared into his brain forever.
When your eyes meet Vernon's, you see he's just as affected as you are, and he doesn't give you a chance to think before his lips are crashing into yours. "You did so good for me, my love. Now let me take care of you."
DINO - Dino has never been more focused in his life than the way he is right now.
His pupils dilate, his breath comes out shallow, and his cheeks are flushed as he leans over you. "Fuck, you're so pretty." He can't believe you're underneath him. That you're looking up at him with those pretty eyes, and that cute nervous grin, and his tongue rolls over his bottom lip as you give him space to nestle between your open legs.
Dino knows how important this is for you, and he is determined to make you feel good, so he watches intently - taking in all your pretty little noises and flushed cheeks, the way your eyebrows furrow, and the way your lips part when he does something that feels really good.
He makes it all about you. He holds your hands, entwining your fingers, and checks in. "Does this feel good?" "Do you like it when I do that?" "You sound so pretty; let me hear you louder, baby." "Fuck, baby, you feel so good, my love."
You truly feel like heaven, and his teeth sink into his bottom lip, determined to make you fall apart a few times before he shows you that this is only the beginning.
대박 - you made it to the end.
Tell me about it.
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hiiii💌💌please can i request anything with douma x reader and somnophilia? i LOVE your writing!!!!
NSFW ! somnophilia, dubcon, douma is off-putting. thank you sm! ofc i can i loveee somno 🙂↕️ reqs r still open!
iridescent eyes stared down upon you, wide and curious, an empty grin curled on douma's lips, and you slept.
you looked so restful, beautiful even, he could eat you up!
how silly, to rest so soundly beside a demon. yet, he didn’t mind. instead, his hand came to rest upon your head, petting your head as if you were nothing but a dog.
pretty girl. you were such a pretty girl.
with a long sigh, douma straightened up against the futon. he moved to your legs, pushing your legs apart with such care no one would’ve thought about what his true intentions were. he watched as the robes that covered you moved, clearing his view between your thighs.
his eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise, you had no underwear on. oh my.
there was a twitch that sparked between his legs. were you that stupid? he sighed blissfully, large hands resting in your inner thighs, keeping them apart as he leaned down. it smelled so good, too. his hunger swirled—but he didn’t act on any acts of cannibalism tonight, inside, his tongue found itself between your warm lips. licking up right, like a child licking ice cream.
his eyes shut, yummy.
though, your body tensed, hips shivering, but he couldn’t care less. instead, he wrapped his mouth around the mound of nerves that sat prettily on your cunt.
he ate you out with vigor, his clawed hands digging into your thighs, excitement swirling in his veins as the tent in his pants grew tall. he groaned softly. laying down on his stomach was he stayed resting between your thighs, his hips grinding against the futon. dry humping the cushions to try and calm himself, but it wasn’t the same. your warm, wet pussy was nothing compared to the futon.
he wanted to stuff himself inside your unconscious body badly, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull back from your cunt. you tasted like candy to him, and that, paired with his demonic cannibalistic nature, it took everything in him to not dig his fangs into your helpless body and just feast on you whole.
you let out a small noise, like a muffled moan in your slumber.
douma only licked and sucked harder, his mind swirling. ahh, just to hear you like this, it was like a drug for him. though, he had to savor it, right? he wasn’t sure you would be as accepting of his touches if you were awake; nonetheless, he didn’t exactly care!
you let out a shudder, thighs twitching, before your body tensed—your thighs tried to shift, but he wouldn’t let them move under his grip.
a sweet slick came to his tongue, he sighed.
did the pretty slayer just come on his tongue? oh, he would never let you live this down!
pulling back, douma licked his glossy lips as he sat back on his knees, his hand eagerly moving to the bulge in his pants.
with heavy breaths, he undid his trousers, barely moving them down his meaty thighs, before he crawled closer to your sleeping body. his eyebrows raised in curiosity, his hand gripping his thick shaft, giving himself slow rubs, he leaned his head to the side before he saw your glossy pussy again.
he tapped his cock against your puffy clit, biting his lip as he then watched his rosy tip push apart your pussy lips, slowly he sinked himself inside you, wanting to savor the feeling of his thick cock getting squeezed by your cunt—he let out a small laugh before his hand moved to rest against your hip, the other gently resting against your lower belly.
he pressed down, slowly moving his cock, “so warm..” he noted, eyes briefly rolling back as he moved his hips before they met against yours again.
he let out a giddy chuckle, the squeeze of your pussy making his head hurt.
though, the intrusion between your thighs made your shift, your thighs moving, twitching again, but this time the movements felt more conscious.
your hands moved, blindly moving to grip the futon, and your cunt squeezed even harder, in an attempt to push away whatever was bothering you—then your eyes opened.
a gasp left your lips, bleary eyes meeting his in shock.
“oops, was i too fast?” douma hummed, “good morning!” he chuckled, his hips still moving against yours, his cock still moving inside your cunt—moving to press against your cervix with every thrust.
you choked on your breathing, eyes wide open, like your brain couldn’t wrap around what was happening.
his room was dark; only one meek candle by the door barely kept the room illuminated. the horror to see him towering over you with that shit eating, fake grin and his widened rainbow colored eyes piercing through you was paralyzing. that combined with the feeling of his cock pushing apart your cunt as your lips are trembling.
your gaze quickly away from him to the door, the grip on the sheets was tight, as if to try and steady yourself, you took in a deep breath. you needed to scream, surely there would be a person roaming the halls nearby, but just as your lips parted to try and let out a scream, a heavy hand met your lips.
douma’s nails dug into your cheek, “ah-ah, it’s late, my followers are sleeping, don’t be so selfish to wake them,” he said, voice sweet, yet there was a threat lingering beneath his tone; his nails were sharp, painful.
your frightened gaze met his once more, and in an act of desperation, you bit his hand—hard. he tensed, yet there was a lack of reaction that had your body trembling.
“ow,” he simply said, giggling, before his hips slammed against yours, your eyes shut biting back the moan that wanted to leave your lips.
“you need some manners, did you know that?” he sighed, feigning frustration, his hand still clasped over your pretty mouth. glaring at him, you struggled against his grip, but douma was unfairly powerful, and you, a meek human body compared to him? it was a losing fight, and you knew it.
“why don’t you relax, hm?” he moaned.
“i know you like it,” he whispered, pressing his body against yours before he moved to rest his head against your shoulder, wanting to stay as close to you as he could.
“squeezing me so tight, the body never lieees.” he cooed, mocking you.
you wished you could punch that stupid smile from his face; he made you sick. the hatred you had for him ran deep, despite this, your overstimulated cunt tightened.
shutting your eyes, you leaned your head back, your thighs wrapping around his hips.
douma chuckled, “there we go.”
his hand came to your head once more, petting your hair gently, “good girl.”
hiiii I love ur works!! may I request manhandling for akaza and if it's okay, maybe douma too.. 😓👉👈
── 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 ! manhandling with akaza and douma
✦ content. fem reader manhandling, dubcon elements, size kink, degradation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, biting, blood mention, creampie, predator/prey dynamics, choking, semi-public risk, aftercare (akaza), lack of aftercare (dōma), manipulation, power imbalance
author's ✿︎ notes. this request is soooo hot. honestly i could've written it in a totally different way-- but i chose to keep it close to the anime. the upper moons currently have a hold on me. anyways, thank you for this request & i hope it is up to your expectations. i love you angel
✎ 𝒂kaza 𓂃 ♡︎
the shrine had long since lost its holiness. once, maybe, people had come here with prayers, with offerings, with trembling hands clutching candles and coins, whispering for blessings into the air. but now the roof sagged under the weight of moss and rain, wood split open by years of rot, the altar cracked and jagged like teeth. it smelled of mildew, of damp stone, of something long forgotten. when you stepped past the broken gate, it felt like walking into a mouth that meant to swallow you whole.
you told yourself you came here to investigate, to track whispers of demons prowling in the area, to follow duty where it called. but the truth slipped into your mind, unshakable—you shouldn’t be here. not alone. not in the silence of night, where even the wind dared not move through the trees. the stillness pressed on you, heavy as a weight on your chest, until the fine hairs at the back of your neck prickled.
that was when he appeared. you didn’t see him walk in. you didn’t even hear the floorboards creak. you just felt it first—the crushing weight of presence, like the air had turned to stone, like your lungs forgot how to breathe. akaza stood where the moonlight bled through the broken roof, tattoos glowing faintly under pale light, eyes sharp, unblinking, unhuman. his voice cut the silence, low and steady, carrying a cruel amusement.
“hm. another slayer wandering in where they shouldn’t. fragile little thing… you really thought you’d make it out of here alive?”
your sword was already in your hand, heart hammering as you forced your body into motion. you lunged first, trying to seize control, trying to bite down on fear and twist it into strength. the blade sliced toward him—but it never landed. his hand lashed out, faster than thought, knocking steel aside as if it were nothing more than paper. his other hand clamped around your wrist, fingers digging so deep you swore he could crush bone if he wanted.
you jerked, twisted, fought, but it was useless. his strength was overwhelming. before you could gasp, your back slammed against the cracked altar, the sharp edge biting into your spine. the impact knocked air from your lungs, leaving you gasping like a fish on land. your blade clattered across the broken floor, useless.
akaza’s grin stretched slow, wolfish, as he leaned close enough for his breath to ghost against your face. “you fight with spirit,” he murmured, grip tightening when you tried to squirm free. “but spirit won’t save you. not when you’re this weak. not when you’re this breakable.”
his free hand moved to your uniform, fingers curling into the fabric over your chest. the tear was sharp, merciless—the sound of cloth splitting open echoed loud in the empty shrine. he didn’t bother with precision; he didn’t need to. your haori ripped down the middle, falling open to expose the skin beneath. his hand slid inside, palm rough and hot against your bare stomach, pushing higher until he gripped your breast hard enough to make you gasp.
“too fragile,” he drawled, thumb brushing over your nipple as if testing, then pinching cruelly, making your back arch against the altar. “i could crush you with one hand… but no. i’d rather break you in other ways.”
your legs kicked, trying to push him off, but he seized both thighs at once, fingers digging into flesh. in one brutal motion, he forced them apart, spreading you wide over his lap as he dragged you closer. the wooden altar dug into your back, sharp and unyielding, as he shoved your legs up until your knees nearly pressed to your chest.
“stay still,” he growled, pressing his weight forward to pin you. his hand slid down, tugging at the waist of your trousers. another rip—fabric splitting as easily as paper—and he yanked them off, leaving your lower half exposed to the cold air and his heated gaze.
you opened your mouth to curse him, but the words broke into a cry when he shoved two thick fingers between your folds, spreading you open with obscene ease. the intrusion was rough, fast, forcing your body to react before your mind could catch up. slick coated his fingers almost instantly, and his grin widened, sharp and cruel. “already wet? pathetic little slayer—your body betrays you.”
he withdrew just long enough to shove his own trousers down, his cock heavy and flushed, the sight alone making your stomach twist. then he lined himself up, the blunt head pressing against your entrance. the resistance was sharp, the stretch nearly unbearable—but he didn’t pause, didn’t give you time to adjust. with one brutal thrust, he slammed inside, burying himself to the hilt.
you choked on the breath that ripped from your lungs, body bowing off the altar as the stretch burned through you, walls clenching desperately around the intrusion. his grip on your thighs tightened, forcing them wider, locking you in place as he pulled back and slammed into you again, harder, deeper, the sound of your body taking him echoing through the ruined shrine.
“fuck,” akaza groaned, head tipping back, tattoos glowing faintly in the moonlight. “so tight. even your cunt’s trying to fight me.” his hips snapped forward with punishing force, each thrust rocking the altar beneath you. “but you can’t win this fight either, can you?”
your cries tumbled out broken, sobs and whimpers spilling into the cold night air as his pace grew merciless. he leaned down, his mouth hot against your jaw, teeth grazing before sinking in—not enough to pierce, but enough to make you jolt. “you’re trembling,” he muttered against your skin, voice dark, taunting. “your body loves this. every squeeze, every twitch—you were made to be ruined like this.”
each thrust forced slick down your thighs, dripping onto the altar, pooling beneath you. your nails clawed helplessly at the wood, leaving shallow grooves as heat coiled low in your belly, unbearable and blinding.
“don’t hold back,” akaza snarled, hips snapping into you faster, deeper. “cum for me—show me how weak you are.”
and when it broke, it was violent, tearing the breath from your lungs as you convulsed around him, tears streaking down your cheeks. your orgasm hit hard, walls spasming, dragging a guttural groan from his chest. he pounded through it, chasing his own high, until his hips stuttered and his cock spilled hot ropes of cum deep inside you, filling you until it leaked messily around his length.
you slumped against the altar, trembling, throat raw from sobs. akaza stayed pressed to you, cock still buried deep, his grin cruel and satisfied. his thumb brushed a tear from your cheek almost mockingly. “fragile little thing,” he murmured, voice rough, “and yet you take me perfectly.”
then his hips shifted again, his cock twitching back to life inside your overstimulated cunt. his grin widened, sharp as a blade. “we’re not done. i’ll break you over and over—until you forget what it means to stand against me.”
✎ 𝒅ōma 𓂃 ♡︎
the lotus temple was quiet. too quiet.
by day it seemed serene—bright lanterns swaying, golden statues smiling benignly, prayers murmured into incense smoke. but by night, when shadows pooled in the corners and the air grew still, it became something else. the painted faces of the bodhisattvas warped in the dark, their smiles eerie and knowing, their hands reaching endlessly in frozen blessing. you should have turned back the second you crossed the threshold, but you didn’t. curiosity or duty carried you inside.
and that was when you heard it—the laughter. light, airy, musical, but wrong. it didn’t echo properly. it slid through the dark like oil, clinging to your skin, chilling you to the bone.
“ooh… a guest.”
your stomach dropped. he hadn’t stepped from anywhere—you simply blinked, and he was there. dōma, upper moon two, sat casually at the base of a massive statue, lotus-shaped war fan twirling lazily between his fingers. his eyes—bright, gleaming with too much light to be human—fixed on you with a delight that felt like claws dragging over glass.
“how lucky am i?” he said with that too-cheerful lilt, tilting his head as if truly considering it. “the night was starting to feel so lonely, and here you come stumbling in. a pretty little slayer, all alone. ahh, i feel blessed.”
your blade was already out, shaking slightly despite your grip. you lunged—fast, precise, desperate. but before the tip could even graze him, his fan clattered to the floor and his hand shot out, clamping around your throat with effortless strength.
“tsk, tsk,” he sang, voice bubbling with laughter as he lifted you effortlessly off the floor, legs kicking. “so aggressive! but you’re trembling… do you really think you can hurt me?”
you clawed at his wrist, the pressure at your throat making spots dance in your vision. he smiled wider at your struggling, as though each desperate kick was entertainment. then, with a casual swing of his arm, he slammed you down against the polished temple floor. the breath flew out of your lungs, chest heaving uselessly as your sword skittered out of reach.
“much better,” dōma hummed, kneeling over you, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand as if they were weightless. “look at you… all pinned down like a little insect. don’t worry, i’ll take good care of you. i always take care of my guests.”
his free hand slid over your chest, fingertips featherlight, deceptively tender. then, with a sudden vicious tug, he gripped your uniform and ripped it open down the middle. fabric tore under his claws like paper, exposing the soft skin beneath. his eyes glittered as he leaned down, tongue darting out to lap across your collarbone with mocking reverence.
“mmm… delicious,” he purred, teeth grazing. “so warm. so human. you make the cutest noises when you squirm, did you know that?”
you tried to jerk your wrists free, tried to shove him off with your knees, but his grip was unyielding. he only laughed at your struggles, as if they delighted him. “oh, don’t pout. it’s fun when you fight. but you’ll learn—” his hand slid lower, cupping you between your thighs through the fabric of your trousers, squeezing with enough pressure to make you gasp, “—you’ll always lose.”
he didn’t wait. another sharp tug tore your trousers at the seam, leaving you half-bared under him. his fingers trailed along the edge of your underwear before hooking in and yanking those away too, discarding them in a careless flick.
“ahh, now that’s better,” dōma cooed, eyes darkening with something hungrier as he spread your legs apart with his knees, forcing you open under him. “so pretty like this. like a flower, just for me.”
you hissed through your teeth, shame and fury burning hot, but it only made his grin widen. he shifted down, one hand pinning your wrists still, the other spreading you with merciless ease. when his fingers pressed inside, the intrusion was sudden and unrelenting—two sinking deep without warning, curling against sensitive walls that made your body betray you with a sharp, unwilling moan.
“ohhh, listen to that,” he crooned, pumping his fingers at a punishing pace, each thrust stretching you open further. “music to my ears. mm, you’re squeezing me so tight already. how adorable.”
slick coated his fingers quickly, dripping messily onto the floor. he withdrew them just to lick them clean, humming with obscene delight at the taste. “sweet, sweet, sweet. just as i thought.”
then he freed himself—trousers undone with a lazy tug, his cock heavy and flushed, obscene in the dim temple light. he aligned himself with your entrance, teasing the head against your folds, smearing slick across your swollen skin.
“you ready?” he asked in a sing-song voice, mocking because he had no intention of waiting. “of course you’re not. but that’s the fun part.”
he slammed into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. your body arched violently off the floor, a cry tearing from your throat as the sudden stretch burned through you, hot and unbearable.
“nnnh—” dōma groaned, eyes fluttering, his smile turning near feral. “ohhh… that’s perfect. you’re so tight. oh, you poor thing, you’re shaking already. don’t worry, i’ll break you in gently.”
he didn’t mean gently. his hips began to snap forward in quick, merciless thrusts, his cock driving deep again and again until the wet, lewd sounds of your bodies echoed through the temple. every movement shoved you harder into the cold floor, wrists aching under his grip, legs spread wide by his weight.
“so loud,” he teased, laughing between groans. “every moan, every cry—ah, i could eat you up.” his lips pressed to your jaw, sucking a bruise there before nipping cruelly. “and maybe i will. but not before i’ve ruined this sweet little body.”
your climax built sharp, unbearable, heat curling in your belly as each thrust hit deeper, harder, stealing every breath from your lungs.
“that’s it,” dōma sang, his pace quickening, hips slamming into you so hard it hurt. “break for me, my good girl. cum for me—i want to feel you drown on my cock.”
when it hit, it was devastating, your walls clenching violently around him, squeezing him so tight he groaned loud, head tipping back. he fucked you through it, riding your trembling spasms until his thrusts grew sloppy and he spilled inside you, filling you so deep the warmth leaked back out around him.
he slumped over you briefly, panting, then licked the tears off your cheeks with a bright, delighted hum. “mmm. salty. sweet. perfect.” his grin curved cruel and charming at once. “see? i told you i’d take care of you. aren’t you glad you wandered in?”
his cock twitched still buried inside, his smile widening like a blade. “and don’t pout, little flower. we’ve got all night.”
dōma never understood the appeal of abstinence until he met you. for more than a century, he had obeyed the simplest of creeds: hunger should be fed, desire fulfilled, pleasure taken whenever it presented itself.
tonight is no different. while his appetite in the physical sense was already glutted, his carnal desires never waned for you. and curse that freakish stamina of his! judging by the hardness nudging your thigh, it was clear that he could’ve kept going without pause, had it not been for your human limits.
four drawn-out rounds and still, he could not leave you alone. after being denied the comfort of staying inside you, dōma sought consolation elsewhere, mouthing languid kisses to your shoulder, in both quiet worship and tender defilement. (it wasn’t morality that stayed his fangs from tearing into your arteries—to dōma, it was more of a game. curiosity turned self-inflicted torment. he’s somewhat of a masochist.)
you mumbled half-heartedly about needing rest, but he ignored it entirely. “just one more kiss. pleasepleaseplease pretty please?” you both knew one kiss would never suffice—greedy thing that he was. cold lips trailed down your neck, nipping lightly. you evoked an instinct to consumeconsumeconsume, but for now he’d leave just a trail of shallow marks, little crescents fading to bruises by morning. proof that he’d been a ‘good’ lover and a ‘bad’ upper moon.
before you could squirm away, he caught you around the waist and tumbled you back onto the futon in a careless sprawl of limbs. laughter spilled out as he pressed you down, his birch-coloured hair framing your face like a halo of moonlight. “where d’you think you’re going?” he chirps, the very picture of mischief. “can’t leave me all alone— that’s just cruel!”
when he trailed lower, tongue flicking out to tease your already-sensitive nipple, you swatted his shoulder. “dōma!” you hissed, exasperation colouring your voice.
“what in the world has gotten into you?”
“ouchie! now was that really necessary?” dōma whined, lower lip jutting in a pout that belied the gleam in his rainbow eyes. “i was just tasting,” his words muffled as his hot wet tongue flicked once more. “you’re so cute… i could eat you right up.”
he propped himself on an elbow, watching you with a dopey, lovelorn smile. one you’d come to expect from him, and often it made you feel as though the two of you were in on some bone-chilling farce. for behind those hypnotic, iridescent irises, there was usually nothing at all.
but something shifted. and dōma must have felt it too, because for the briefest instant, a shallow crease appeared between his brows, uncertainty marring the usual placidity of his face. quickly followed by the rosy blush dusting his cheeks, wholly out of place. he blinked, once, twice, as though surprised by himself.
and then, the mask was back on place. whatever had just passed—some errant chemical mimicry of emotion or simply a trick of nerves—he dismissed it without a second thought. familiar vacancy settled back in, tranquil as ice reforming over water. a soft chuckle escaped and when he bent down again, brushing his lips against the curve of your throat, there was tenderness. whether it was genuine or only another act in his repertoire, you could no longer tell. it scarcely mattered.
Muzan Kibutsuji, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza x Fem! Reader.
Warnings: Blood, smut, sexual themes, oral sex; female receiving, oral sex during period, face sitting, mentions about fingering, drinking blood, eating human flesh.
Summary: Headcanons on the upper three and Muzan helping a marechi s/o through her period while keeping their stomachs full.
W/C: 2.5k+
In the time you’d been together, he had yet to smell your blood, it was hard enough to be placed in the situation when he always made sure you weren’t injured whenever he was around, and as such a high-ranking demon, he lacked the privilege to spend as much time with you as wanted, so the timings hadn’t lined properly for him to be present during your period either, but when they finally did without you being aware of your unique type of blood, to say the least, neither of you were ready.
Muzan Kibutsuji
Takes full advantage of the situation.
Has to take a step back to steady himself the first time he smells you.
Is initially worried you’re injured at first.
Plays his cards right and shows initial concern despite your body doing a normal biological function.
Is more physically affectionate to get you to lower your guard even more.
Gets you to admit out loud that you’re in physical pain.
Suggests helping you ease the pain.
Had never buried his face between your legs before.
Was actually kind of sexist about it and would’ve felt inferior if he placed your legs on either side of his head, because why would the demon king do that?
Still tried to refuse but smelling your marechi blood didn’t help.
Having a monthly supply of marechi blood sounded tempting enough.
So he suggests easing your pain.
Surprises you by finally spreading your legs after laying between them.
Keeps you around him for the entirety of the week.
Takes you wherever he needs to go to keep you close.
But never near any demons.
If necessary, he has Kokushibo watch over you.
Doesn’t necessarily refuse to not have you in his presence.
But refuses to leave you alone and unguarded for other demons to try and eat you.
Knows that Kokushibo won’t even consider so much as laying a finger at you.
Still refuses to get on his knees for you.
You always have to lay down for him.
Forbids you from wearing anything under your kimono to have easier access.
Instantly smells whenever your blood’s about to stain the expensive fabric of your kimono.
Licks you clean every time he smells you starting to bleed.
Which is multiple times throughout the day.
As soon as you express being relieved from the pain, he uses it as an excuse.
Prefers you thinking he genuinely and solely wants to care for his favorite human rather than admitting that he needs to feed like any living creature.
Because he refuses to so much as get on his knees for you, he obviously even more so refuses to have you sit on his face.
Not even hover.
If you ever suggest it, he’ll give you the meanest side eye and refuse to speak to you for days.
Still will not eat you out outside of your period.
The moans entering Muzan’s ears easily sounded different than usual, similar to the first time he had you take his heavy cock in your lower area, where he was currently lapping at you for the first time with half lidded eyes in a relaxed expression while laying on his stomach for you, hands on either of your thighs which obediently remained spread open for him with ease due to how the rest of your body had fallen limp upon the first lick.
He had his doubts at first, but he had to admit, it’s awfully convenient to have a marechi lover who was so willing to hike up the expensive kimono and spread open the legs beneath it to allow him to feed rather than having to go through the trouble of going out of his way for people to eat. A louder moan fills the room as he dips his tongue inside your sensitive opening after having licked clean your labia.
A shaky hand reaches for his hair in attempt to pull him closer only to be pushed away rather gently by the man at your thighs. Normally, he would’ve slapped away the hand because despite actually bearing affection for you, how dare you try to command him in any way, however, he supposes the meal you’re offering him is enough for him to turn a blind eye to your insolence… once.
Kokushibo
Very concerned for your health when he finds out.
Initially thinks you’re injured upon smelling your blood for the first time.
Takes a second (one too long in his opinion) to regain his composure after the scent of your blood makes him feel dizzy.
The opposite of Muzan.
Has eaten you out before.
And doesn’t mind doing it.
Genuinely suggests relieving your pain for your benefit.
Takes great pride in taking care of you.
Hardly even thinks of you as a source of food with how much he prioritizes easing your pain.
But does acknowledge that you’re keeping him well fed.
Another one that keeps you with him every time you’re on your period (they all do).
Doesn’t think much about if he likes or not getting on his knees for you.
But knows your height differences would make it a bit uncomfortable.
And prefers you lay down for your own comfort.
Will also eat you out whenever he smells blood on the way.
Enjoys doing so but does it mainly for your safety as to not attract any demons.
Doesn’t just drink your blood but also plays with your clit to actively give you orgasms to counter your cramps.
Gently rubs your lower stomach to further help with your cramps.
Or grazes it very lightly with his fingertips to give you goosebumps if he’s in a teasing mood.
Slows the pace after each orgasm as to not overstimulate you before picking it up again.
Overall treats you like a porcelain doll.
Would give you a break if you asked.
Even if you’re still bleeding
So long as you’re always close to him so he can keep you safe.
Soft gentle tugs to your clit force heavy breaths out through your nose, the occasional pinch making you clench around the soft pink tongue moving along your insides with your back tensing and arching off the futon briefly before a hand gently pushes down your stomach to press you back against the fabric beneath you in attempt to get you to relax, the tongue carefully moving back and forth as to not overwhelm your sensitive insides.
His eyes peek open when he feels your legs starting to tremble on either side of his face, the hand over your lower stomach carefully rubbing over the skin doing little to soothe you, his first pair of eyes looking at you due to your different than usual movements, unable to read any expression from your head being thrown back. “Are you alri-” He’s interrupted by your body falling limp against him and the unmistakable noise of you hitting your orgasm.
He’s quick to react and have his fingers gently rub at your clit, slowly licking over your leaking opening, his reasoning settling on your different reactions being from your current sensitive state. His eyes fall back shut again without his own hands failing to continue their ministrations, set on taking care of you and making sure you’re carefully brought back down from your own high as to not overstimulate you while you let him eat his fill.
Douma
Doesn’t even occur to him that you might be injured.
Knows that he would’ve been notified if you’d been injured.
Also takes full advantage of the situation.
Absolutely delighted to find out you’re a marechi.
He’s been surrounded by plenty women before and has eaten enough to know what a period is obviously.
As well as eaten marechi women before.
But has never stumbled upon a marechi woman on her period.
Is baffled that it never occurred to him to keep a marechi woman by his side for a monthly supply.
Immediately asks to feed off of you rather than asking to help with your cramps.
Used to have you on him 97% of times, now it’s 100%.
Eats you out wherever, whenever and however.
Very vocal about it.
Constant praises on your taste.
Gets actually hungry while tasting you.
But remembers that you’re a fragile human who he genuinely enjoys having around and therefore would rather not hurt you.
So he treats you as an appetizer instead.
And proceeds to eat one of the other women around after you’ve stopped bleeding.
Keeps you on him under every circumstance.
Even if Muzan calls him over.
Promises to do as Muzan says and be on his best behavior which he actually fulfills much to Muzan’s surprise.
If you were to actually be apart from him, he would ask in all seriousness for you to save your blood for him for later in a jar.
Another one who would forbid you from wearing anything under your kimono.
Probably forbids you from doing so even when you aren’t on your period.
Doesn’t even warn you when he smells you starting to bleed and immediately goes under your kimono.
If there’s anyone nearby when you start bleeding, immediately orders them to leave.
For your sake.
If it were up to him, he’d bury his face between your legs right then and there.
Messy eater.
Will definitely take you on his beanbag.
Will treat your period (as well as your fucking sessions) like some type of bingo or a list that needs to have locations where he’s taken you crossed off.
You feel yourself sink further into the large pillow beneath you with your legs kept hiked to your chest, loud continuous moans coming from the blonde between said legs, the incessant noises coming from him having won long ago against your own. A slight shift of your body moves your untied kimono further open with it finally slipping off your breasts and exposing your nipples to the cold air, the elegant fabric bunching around your torso between the folds of the pillow.
“Ohh, you taste just heavenly my darling.” Douma smiles after lifting his head from your bloodied messy folds, letting you take in the sight of his chin drenched in your blood, fluids starting to trickle down to his neck followed by his tongue swiping across it. “Now sit pretty for me and let me eat…” He coaxes in a low tone while slowly lowering himself, continuing to delve his tongue into your opening.
While a knot started to form in the pit of your stomach, the hollow filling in the pit of Douma’s own stomach started to grow, tempting him with having more than just a taste of your blood, but he couldn’t, he’d never forgive himself. He shuts down his thoughts and instead licks you with more vigor, his mind wandering to other women who he’d much rather eat before you, maybe the one who’d been just slightly less polite than usual when attending you, maybe she’d be able to satiate his hunger for a while.
Akaza
Is terrified when he smells your blood for the first time.
Especially when he notices what type of blood it is.
Immediately assumes the worst.
Thanks whatever higher power there is when he sees you’re fine.
Gets headaches from trying to keep himself in control.
And still refuses to leave you alone.
Absolutely would never under any circumstances let Douma get remotely near you regardless of whatever situation you’re in.
Would never suggest eating you out to relieve the pain because he doesn’t want you to think he’s using you for food
But wouldn’t blatantly tell you no if you asked.
Would need a lot of convincing to say yes.
Would be really worried because what if he accidentally hurts you.
Is also worried that what if he genuinely gets hungry while trying to make you feel better.
Would be very hesitant due to his rule against eating women.
But tries to convince himself it’s alright because he’s not actually eating you.
Because he secretly is very curious and tempted to try it out.
Finally says yes when your cramps get unbearable.
Absolutely loses it upon his first taste.
Would already eat you out regularly for his own pleasure.
But would do it with dignity composure.
Now gets overly pussy drunk.
Doesn’t stop even after you’re clean.
Just continues while waiting for the next wave of blood.
Eats you out like a starved animal when you’re on your period.
Another messy eater.
Doesn’t leave your side for your safety.
And your mutual pleasure.
Would enjoy you sitting on his face.
But fails to notice how he refuses to let you leave your seat once you’ve sat.
Despite eating you out mostly for his own pleasure, doesn’t forget yours and uses his fingers to give you as many orgasms as he can as a thanks for keeping him fed.
Has no shame in licking his fingers clean in front of you.
Makes sure to still give you plenty of head regularly after your period so you don’t feel like he just sees you as food.
Would wonder in the back of his head if your blood alone can make him strong enough to surpass the other upper ranks.
Would be damned if Douma found out what he’s doing.
“Are you su-” “Yes.” Akaza’s quick to respond, trying to hold himself back from yanking you down, instead, gently guiding you lower to take a seat on his face. It’d been a few cycles since he finally started eating you out during your period and in that time, he’d grown addicted, though that would be an understatement. And though he still much enjoyed spending his days face buried between your legs even outside your cycle, during was something far preferable.
In the last few times he’d helped you through your difficult time of the month, he started feeling as though it wasn’t enough, no, rather he wanted more, and so he suggested something new, something you’d never know if he’d thought about himself, seen somewhere or heard of. Once you feel your lower area come into contact with him a sigh escapes you with his tongue starting to move along you, pressing over your clit, licking between your folds, circling your opening and licking clean every crevice.
He continues to suffocate himself in the intoxicating smell of your blood and decides it still isn’t enough, not with you hovering. A yelp leaves your mouth at the sudden yank of your legs being pulled upward folded against each other by a pair of strong hands with you falling completely sat on Akaza’s face, a muffled moan heard from under you pulling your gaze toward him, taking in the expression of his eyes rolled to the back of his head while his tongue invaded your insides, refusing to stop tasting you.
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