Today's Document
Discoholic 🪩
art blog(derogatory)
if i look back, i am lost
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
hello vonnie
Love Begins
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
YOU ARE THE REASON
The Bowery Presents
Not today Justin
titsay
taylor price
The Stonewall Inn
noise dept.
No title available
Doug Jones
macklin celebrini has autism
EXPECTATIONS
roma★
seen from Australia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from Romania
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Zimbabwe
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Germany
seen from Vietnam
seen from Mexico
seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
@littlemlem
mlem’s love letters
she/her — cancer — 21 ۶ৎ erotic/sensitive — infj & gyaru
"tag navigation"
#mlem’s shameless stash ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა🤍 [my collection of nsfw fics] #mlem’s favs 𝜗ৎ🤍 [fics i like] #‘૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ hidden magazine stash [art]. #'꒰gyaru manifestギャル꒱ [gyaru inspo]
Ride It | 18+
[REQUEST]
pairing- lucci, zoro, doflamingo, law x f!reader [separate]
cw- smut, thigh riding, reader wears a skirt (except the last one), partially proofread (im eepy hehehe), hints of dumbification, specific cw under each character! lmk if i missed any!!
𑣲a/n- AHH its been so long since i've writtem multi-character one-shots! this request had me bouncing up and down (and i wish it was on law's co－). i was low(high)key high when i wrote this and all im thinking about is being dumbed out on these mens' thighs!! i dont even think i worked so fast on a request too omg....ANYWAY i hope you enjoy this MUAHH thank you for the delicious req, mlem
(ps, lets ignore how long doffy's cw list is...he's a walking hazard)
𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐈
cw- degredation (slut), condescending praise, pet names (dolly, brat, bunny), spanking, panty pulling
Irritation doesn't even begin to describe what Lucci was feeling right now－it just scrapes the surface and the last thing he needed was his lover acting like a needy brat. A simple assassination mission, a complete bust due to a certain pirate with a straw hat intervening and saving their target. Safe to say Lucci was far from happy, if the man was capable of feeling such a concept.
To his demise, you were ovulating and being exactly what he did not want. Not even two seconds in the door, and you're already whining. Hattori flew to his enclosure, leaving you two alone, to which you were grateful for.
Romance is Dead (Lucci x Reader)
One Piece | Lucci | 7.0k | Masterlist
For @miwn8 as a Christmas in July gift.
“I’m considering killing you.”
You looked to the side, glanced down at the newspaper in Lucci’s hands and then back at the book in your own. You did a quick check to make sure you were still the only other person sitting beside your pool.
It was a lovely day with warm sun and sparkling blue water. Nothing to have prompted that kind of comment.
“Excuse me?”
He folded the newspaper in half and placed it beside him. “You should be aware of my thoughts when they involve you in this manner.”
You frowned, opened your mouth once, and then closed it again. You sat up straighter on your lounge chair, shut your book and placed it on the ground beside you.
“I… Okay,” you said. “I don’t know if I should thank you for telling me? Or maybe ask you not to? I would very much prefer if you didn’t do that.”
He nodded. “Understandably.”
Driving lessons
Holy shit, I scrolled cuz I got curious and I got jumpscared by own Lucci fic here
I’ll eat anything you post okay✌️🥹, the fanclub is STARVING in regards to Lucci content
| ANYWHERE BUT WORK | SIR CROCODILE
summary: as both a former warlord and headliner of the cross guild, sir crocodile has appearances to keep up. despite that, he has one major soft spot - his wife. that's why during work hours, he has to pretend he barely knows you, lest he show you the affection he so desperately yearns to. pairing: crocodile / secretary! reader wc: 2.0k tags: f! reader, fluff, crocodile loves his wife, soft crocodile, i'll stand by that agenda forever why would he marry you if he hates you and neglects you, he pampers the shit out of you, mihawk comes thru for the clutch
"Good morning, sirs." You greeted your three bosses as they walked into work together towards the conference room, sitting at the desk just outside.
"Goooood morning!" Buggy chirped, flashing you a thumbs up. "Keep up the good work today!" Mihawk inclined his head slightly towards you, a silent show of respect for both your hard work - and, more likely - putting up with Buggy all the time.
"Meetings." Crocodile asked shortly, taking his cigar out of his mouth and hiding it behind his back as he caught your glare towards him.
"Certainly, sir." You said calmly, eyebrow twitching just the slightest bit. You'd told him to cut down on the smoking, especially indoors. "The three of you have your bi-monthly bounty hunter meeting today, so please be sure to have new bounties on Marines prepared by noon. Aside from that, standard operations."
"Thank you." Mihawk said, walking towards his office, likely to grab his documents per your instruction, as the meeting was just a few hours away.
"What should I do until the meeting?" Buggy blinked, pointing at himself.
"Prepare?" Crocodile's deep voice rumbled, as he scoffed in disbelief. "Do you need to be coddled every second of your day?"
"I was just checking if there was anything else I needed to do!" Buggy exclaimed, pointing at you. "Our cute little secretary has all the info I need!"
Crocodile crushed his cigar in his hand, still behind his back. The ashes fell to the floor. "Just get the papers."
A bead of sweat rolled down Buggy's face, collecting pale makeup as it reached his chin. "I sense I've done something wrong." He turned on his heel and fled into his office, locking it tightly.
Crocodile turned back to you, saying nothing. You flipped through your papers, checking through any calls that you might be expecting or need to make - likely for Crocodile himself, who was always on the lookout for new business partners.
The man began to reach into his coat pocket for a cigar, only to stop himself. He was still in front of your desk. You glanced at him for just a second, before opening the drawer of your desk and handing something to him.
"Your lunch, sir." You said, as he took it from you. "You forgot it at home again."
His jaw clenched, and he opened the container with his hand, peering inside. His favorite, grilled crocodile over rice. Some vegetables with teriyaki sauce, some fruit for dessert. A note stuck to the lid, saying "Do your best today!"
He tucked the lunch container into his inner pocket, and his hand flexed as if to reach for you. Your eyes shot to his, before sliding behind him. A warning.
Crocodile followed your gaze, sighing as he saw Mihawk's piercing eyes observing the two of you from his office window. He blinked once, before flicking his wrist to roll down the curtains, likely returning to his paperwork.
"Be careful, now." You said, jotting down notes for your call at two. "Best to follow the rules you set."
You held no grudge against your husband for the decision he made. It was likely best for you, too, if he pretended to only know you in a coworker capacity, lest people begin to think you didn't work for the position.
Plus, had he not set the rule for the two of you, it was likely that he'd be attached to you all day until you both went home together - and he'd be attached to you then, too.
"...Yes." He muttered, watching you work. He began walking away, but paused right as he reached his door, turning just the slightest bit. "Do your best today."
You smiled, stopping your notetaking to meet his eyes. The moment your eyes met, he looked away, as if he couldn't bear to see you any longer. "I'll see you after work, Sir."
Each day was just like that. Absolute torture. He wanted nothing more than to sit in the same room as you, have you tuck into his side for hours on end, reading newspapers in silence and discussing any new developments in the world.
A domestic life, like a normal husband and wife. His time in Alabasta with you was rather close to that, before that damned Straw Hat came along. But now, Straw Hat wasn't even the problem.
The Cross Guild was formidable, to say the least. All former warlords, all incredibly strong pirates, all (except, perhaps Buggy - though maybe Crocodile could be nice and give it him the credit) capable of toppling the power structure of the sea.
Yet, that wasn't the issue either. Power was not the issue. The issue was that his coworkers - your coworkers, were incredibly nosy. Buggy was much more perceptive than he let on, he had to know something was going on. Of course, then, he spent his free time teasing Crocodile purely for the sake of it, just to get a reaction out of him.
Mihawk never gave an indication that he knew anything. But he didn't have to, because both of you could always feel his eyes on you, observing every move, every gesture, the slightest touches.
So you both agreed to pretend not to know each other outside of a coworker capacity, for the sake of reputation and for the sake of work. You were the Cross Guild's formidable secretary, efficient, quick, and diligent. You didn't want that spoiled for you, nor did Crocodile want to appear soft.
But god, was it hell. When you had free time, you would run their errands. Bring Buggy news on Straw Hat and Shanks, bring Mihawk the newest books he wanted to read (and secretly, updates on Zoro and Perona), bringing Crocodile more cigars and the freshest newspapers.
Buggy would always try to keep you longer than needed, making idle chit-chat. You'd entertain it, because at the end of the day, you had three bosses and he was unfortunately one of them - plus, he was actually quite good company and very funny to listen to.
During times like this, you could always feel Crocodile's temper simmering behind his door.
Mihawk never caused problems like that. He would nod in appreciation, perhaps occasionally ask you for a wine catalogue, but he'd never pry, and you'd typically be on your way within a few minutes.
For some reason, visiting your husband was the most awkward. The two of you would broil in silence as you darted around the office, ensuring that everything was in order, sometimes handing him yet another meal if he was working late.
He'd do his best to make normal conversation like the two of you did at home, but he had immense difficulty doing so without eventually doting on you.
He'd always start missing you most around midday, because there was typically enough work in the morning that he could busy himself with paperwork and distract himself from his wife, who sat just outside his office working herself.
But at midday, it seemed like it was more than just four hours - more like four days, since you'd woken up just a bit before him, wrapping your arms around his waist and tucking your face into his chest, peppering kisses all over him before you went to get ready for work, going in a hour before he did.
Instead of lying in bed to catch an extra hour of sleep, he'd watch you get ready, smiling when you put your work outfit on, whether it be skirt or tights, pants or dress. If you allowed it, he'd comb through your hair gently as you did your morning skincare routine. If you had extra time before leaving, you'd help him slick back his hair, checking his hook for rust, and fluffing up his coat.
You'd both put your wedding rings on a discrete, thin chain around your necks, letting it hang like a necklace during work hours and still keeping it on you. It was likely easier to just leave the rings at home, but Crocodile would rather die than leave the strongest sign of your bond behind.
So you can imagine how tiresome it was for him to have to go into work and pretend the two of you had nothing.
"Your wife seems a bit upset." Mihawk said, face covered by a book and his outlandishly large hat. His body was leaned back deeply into his chair, the late night getting to him. Buggy had gone home for the night, but Mihawk and Crocodile were still in, having an actual job to do.
Crocodile stiffened in the chair across from Mihawk, eyes automatically sliding to your desk outside where you looked exhausted, arguing with someone on the Transponder Snail as you rubbed your temple with your free hand. You felt his gaze, smiling at him weakly, before turning your attention back to the snail.
Crocodile sighed. There was no point in lying to Mihawk - he wasn't the type to initiate conversation, especially not about a topic he wasn't sure he was knowledgeable about. It was a long time coming, him addressing your relationship.
"It's our anniversary." Crocodile responded, voice deep and exhausted as he flipped through the newest bounties he was going to put out, ensuring that the values were correct before they were released. "Neither of us would prefer to be working so late today, but it can't be helped. It isn't as if our so-called 'President' will be much help when it comes to proofreading."
Mihawk calmly closed his book, looking over to your desk. Of course, you noticed this too, shooting him a strained smile as you leaned back in your chair, face getting gradually more agitated with whoever was on the other end of the call. His eyes slid back to Crocodile, whose cigar was whittling away in his mouth, ashes uncharacteristically falling all over his lap as he rubbed at his eyes.
"Just this once." Mihawk said, reaching his hand out for Crocodile's papers. The man looked up inquisitively, puffing out a large cloud. "I'll cover your workload, just this once. Go home, and spend time with your wife."
"There's no need." Crocodile protested. In all fairness, there's nothing he'd like more than to go home now, but he'd never want to owe Mihawk a thing, nor would he want to seem less capable. It was bad enough that Mihawk knew of your relationship.
"Don't think of it as a favor." Mihawk sighed, standing up slightly to pluck the papers out of Crocodile's hand, before sitting back down and starting to read. "You and your wife stay after hours the most out of any of us. In a way, I'm paying you back - so leave the papers with me and go celebrate your anniversary."
Crocodile put out his cigar in the ashtray next to him, staring at Mihawk. The greatest swordsman in the world merely ignored him, eyes focused on the papers intensely, determined to do the job right. Plus, he had a point, and Crocodile knew it. It was you and him that stayed late the most often.
If there was one day you two could slack off, it should be this one.
Crocodile slung his coat over his shoulders, heading for the door before pausing, hand on the handle. "I appreciate this, Mihawk."
"Don't mention it." He shrugged, sipping his wine and yawning a bit. "Just ask your wife to bring me the newest wine catalogue tomorrow."
Crocodile nodded, swinging the door outwards and walking to your desk, gently taking the receiver out of your hands and hanging up the Transponder Snail.
Clank.
You blinked at him, eyes weary and inquisitive. Before you could ask, he slung his coat over your shoulders and helped you out of the chair, pushing it into the desk. Then he lifted you up, a warm hand holding your shoulders, cold hook carefully circled around your thigh as he walked out of the building.
"We're going home, love." He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Good work today."
You relaxed in his arms, practically melting. "Mihawk felt nice today, did he?"
He pressed another kiss to your cheek, making you laugh. "Certainly. Please bring him the newest wine catalogue tomorrow. Perhaps we should gift him something, too.
"I'll prepare the best we have."
imagine Rob Lucci in a softer mood tonight ~ for @mlemiie , keep your head up high dollie !!! ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ 18+ mdni petname: “doll” will be used !
you didn’t notice it at first when he came home, but the signs where there. subtle, faint. with the way he had stroked your cheek whilst you read; slow, careful and entirely out of his character. it caught you off guard. Enough to make your eyes widen when he kissed your cheek. and gently pushed you onto the bed sheets.
it was done all slow, focused and methodical it almost made you stutter. he kissed your cheek, your jaw, travelling to your neck and collarbones.
Lucci’s nibbles were faint, almost just small nips and tighter kisses. hands groping your chest, one calloused hand lifting your thigh.
“you’re mine” he breathed against your skin, kissing your jaw again. “all mine.” he skims your pantie line with one finger, teasing, caressing. “say it.” he circles over the fabric, pressing one thumb and finger onto your clit and folds. earning your answer. “yours. im yours, lucci”
and he kisses you on the lips, sealing that proclamation. slipping two lengths into your folds, panties still on as he fingers you, thumb circling your clit.
you spread your legs and wrap yourself over his abdomen, arms slung over his shoulders.
“l-lucci.. i—” you breathe out his name, growing close as he fingers fucks you through it, kissing your neck. “louder.” he commands and you obey.
he lets you reach your high, lets you cum and squeeze your thighs against him. fingering you through it. and he just takes in your face during it. “you look pretty like this, vulnerable and weak by me.” he kisses you again, forcing your cheeks to burn. and as you come down your high, he brings his fingers to his mouth and give them a quick lick before sliding your pantie down your thigh, grabbing your hips as he aligns himself above you. his touch soft. not rough. not mean. but soft. and the way his gaze has been on you tonight — dark and stoic but not.. cold. it’s unusual.
“lucci, is everything okay?” he knows what you mean but his expression remains quiet, passive with only the faintest pull of brows. hand landing on your cheek, thumb rubbing. a gesture unheard of. and just when you think he’ll speak, he shoves himself into you. turning rough.
his length fills you up, hitting up to your cervix as he steadily moves his hips, fucking you slow and measured. taking in every moan you make, every breath hitched and spine arched as his grip on your hips digs deeper. harder. his pace starting to match his need, his lust and desire to just fuck you more.
you repeat his name, over and over again as he thrusts into you, and he drinks it all up with a frown, your walls sucking him in, control starting to shatter. “yeah, let them all know who you belong to, fuck—“ his hips stutters when your legs clench around him tighter, eliciting a muffled groan from him. he falls forward, thrusting into you deeper as his breath is on your neck, “i’m gonna mark you, knot you up if i have to, let them all know who’s doll this is.”
and he does. he pounds into you, rhythm growing sloppy as you and him become nothing but sex, scent and sweat. your wet and squelching as he forces himself into you. when he cums, he’ll still fuck you, rut into you, not stopping as he fills you up with his seeds or when he press a hand over ur stomach, and watch his cum squeeze out. tonight, he’s going to fuck his cubs into you, so to scent you, mark you. leave an imprint on himself on you. you’re his afterall.
Lucci can be sweet… in his own moody kitty way ♡⸝⸝
what am i doing, playing dti with mitski in the background
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ♱ ྀིྀ party 𝑙𝑖𝑡, 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑢𝑝 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑦 b★tches °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ like what you see? ℎ𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝟏-𝟖𝟎𝟎-no-switches ギャル .ᐟ.ᐟ
@mxriitaesz moodboards - gyaru rei
Munch! | 18+
[REQUEST]
pairing- fwb!law x f!reader
cw: chubby!reader, dubcon, somnophilia, oral (f!receiving), brat taming, doggy & prone bone, multiple creampies, overstimulationg, biting, titplay, rough sex, rushed ending </3 (sorry chat, idk how to end smut)
𑣲a/n- happy early birthday to me >u< i hope law shows to eat my butt. anyway, enjoy this! i love when law's nasty and freak deaky mueheheheh
The room's atmosphere was anything but pure and holy. Your panties and Law's underwear were thrown about. The clothes you two wore to some stuffy party was nowhere to be seen, your bra hanging off the bed.
You felt the bed shifting. Maybe Law's finally getting up to start the day. You felt the weight of the bed shift from behind to where your legs were. Maybe you were still dreaming?
Law slowly moved your plump thighs apart and felt his dick twitch at the sight. The mess from last night. Memories of the nasty sex from the night before flooded his mind.
Your body shaking with every thrust.
The sound of your beautiful moans.
The shlick sound when his pelvis met your ass.
If Doflamingo loved you--not toying with you but honestly 'in his feelings' loved you--and found you crying/in a state of emotional distress...that man would not know what to do. He's used to delighting in the tears of the worms and peons he subjugates, or else shutting down tears he doesn't have patience for with coercion disguised as (what he believes to be) honeyed words.
That won't work with you. It just won't do. He can't risk the chance of resentment building up in your heart, won't accept any less than your complete and total (Adoration) (Adulation) (Loyalty) Love.
Genuine affection from Doflamingo is a rare and hard-won thing. So rare, in fact, that his framework for how to treat those who've earned it is something he's still figuring out. Coping with strong emotions in ways that aren't outbursts of anger or repression is not something he knows how to do, not for himself and definitely not for his darling.
So he discovers you sobbing, lost in a world of your own tears...and he just freezes. Dull panic bleeds into his psyche as he tries and fails to come up with a plan of action to comfort you. How can he do this gently? What combination of words can he say? He knows how to get people to shut up, knows how to get them to shut down, but what can he do to actually stop your pain? To cut it out at the root so that you'll smile for him, really smile for him? Does he perhaps not understand the human mind and how to bend it to his will as well as he thinks? Damn you for making him hesitate like this! If you happen to look up, you'll see him stock-still in the corner with one hand partially raised to reach for you, mouth drawn in a taught grimace and veins starting to throb at his temples as his mind spins and locks up. For once in his life, he has no plan of action and absolutely no idea what to say.
A Terrible Wingman (According to Law)
Law x Reader | Fluff | Drunk Reader | Heart Pirates Shenanigans | Bepo plays wingman while Law suffers in silence.
✧ ･ﾟ: * ⚓ * :･ﾟ ✧ ✧ ･ﾟ: * ⚓ * :･ﾟ ✧ ✧ ･ﾟ: * ⚓ * :･ﾟ
The bar was loud.
Too loud.
Shachi was yelling about something across the table. Penguin was arguing right back. Bepo was laughing. Someone had started a game involving darts that Law was fairly certain would end in property damage.
Normally he would've left an hour ago.
Instead, he sat with a book in his hands and pretended to read. Pretended being the important word. Because every few minutes his eyes kept drifting to the same place.
You.
Specifically, you curled against Bepo's side.
Law's eye twitched. You weren't even doing anything inappropriate. You were just drunk.
Everyone knew what happened when you got drunk. You became unbearably affectionate.
The first time it happened, you'd nearly given Penguin a heart attack by climbing into his lap because he "looked lonely."
Tonight's chosen cuddle target happened to be Bepo. The navigator didn't seem to mind in the slightest. If anything, he looked delighted. You were currently using his arm as a pillow.
"Bepo."
"Yeah?" he answered.
"You're really fluffy."
Bepo laughed, but before he answered, he caught Law looking.
Not just once.
Again.
And again.
Every few seconds, the captain's eyes drifted back toward the two of them before he forced himself to look down at his book.
Ah.
Bepo bit back a smile.
Captain... you're making this way too obvious.
Law turned a page. He hadn't read a single word. When he glanced up again, he locked eyes with Bepo.
Bepo's expression immediately brightened. Law knew that look and he hated that look. Because it meant Bepo had noticed something.
Again.
The bear's gaze shifted deliberately toward you, then back to Law, and he smiled. Law immediately looked away.
Absolutely not. Whatever Bepo was planning, he wanted no part of it. Unfortunately, Bepo had never once respected that boundary.
"Oh!" Bepo suddenly announced.
You looked up.
"Hm?"
"I need to get another round."
"No you don't."
The words left Law's mouth before he could stop them, and the entire table went quiet. Bepo blinked innocently.
"I don't?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Positive."
Bepo considered this. Then smiled even wider.
"Well, I want another round."
Law felt dread settle into his stomach.
The bear stood, and you immediately grabbed his sleeve.
"Don't leave."
"It's okay." Bepo gently patted your head. "Captain can sit here while I'm gone."
Law nearly dropped his book.
"Bepo."
"What?"
"Bepo."
The warning was obvious. The bear ignored it completely, and you were already patting the empty seat beside you.
"Come sit."
Law stared.
You stared right back with wide, adorable doe eyes.
...
Damn it.
The crew stared at both of you.
This was a trap.
An obvious trap.
A stupid trap.
And yet somehow he found himself standing anyway. The moment he sat down, you leaned against him.
Immediately.
No hesitation.
No warning.
One second there was space between you. The next your shoulder was pressed against his side.
Law's entire body locked.
Warm.
That was the first thing he noticed.
The second was your shampoo.
The third was the horrifying realization that you fit against his side as though you'd always belonged there.
You sighed contentedly and settled closer.
Apparently completely unaware that you had just shortened his lifespan by several years.
Around the table, grins started appearing.
Law glared.
Nobody looked even remotely intimidated.
"Captain?"
Penguin's voice carried far too much amusement.
"What."
"You okay?"
Law frowned.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Penguin and Shachi exchanged a glance.
"You look uncomfortable."
Uncomfortable? Law looked down. You were practically asleep against his shoulder.
Actually....
You looked comfortable. Very comfortable. A strange sense of satisfaction settled somewhere in his chest.
Before he could stop it, Shachi stood.
"I can take them."
"No."
The answer came instantly. The crew and Law blinked. That had come out significantly more aggressive than intended.
"I mean," he corrected, clearing his throat. "They're fine."
You responded by wrapping an arm around his, like you were proving his point.
Without opening your eyes, your fingers found the front of his coat, bunching the fabric in your fist before you let out a quiet, content little sigh.
Law forgot how breathing worked.
Across the room, Bepo nearly walked into a chair.
Traitor.
Absolute traitor.
When the bear finally returned with drinks, he looked entirely too pleased with himself.
"Want me to take my spot back?"
"No."
Again. Immediate. Instinctive.
Law didn't even think before answering. The smile Bepo gave him afterward was insufferable.
The worst part was that he couldn't take it back. Because by now you were half asleep. Your head rested against his shoulder. One hand loosely gripping the sleeve of his coat.
Your thumb absentmindedly rubbed back and forth against the fabric, as though making sure he was still there.
You never opened your eyes. You didn't have to. You trust him, are comfortable with him.
The idea of moving you suddenly felt ridiculous.
Every now and then you'd mumble something unintelligible and burrow closer. Each time it happened, Law's heart did something profoundly annoying.
Eventually, the crew began heading back toward the Polar Tang. Law carefully stood, making sure not to jostle you awake.
You stirred anyway.
"...Law?"
His name, spoken so softly and without a hint of hesitation, nearly stopped him in his tracks.
"We're heading back," he said quietly. "Think you can walk?"
You blinked up at him, clearly trying to process the question.
"...Mhm."
You took exactly three steps before slowing to a stop.
Law looked over his shoulder.
You were standing there staring at him with sleepy, unfocused eyes.
"...Law?"
"What."
"...Can you carry me?"
...
Damn it.
He knew he should say no. He knew everyone was watching. He knew Penguin was already trying, and failing, not to laugh. He knew Bepo looked far too pleased with himself.
None of that mattered.
With a quiet sigh that fooled absolutely no one, Law stepped back toward you.
"Come here."
The smile that spread across your face was small and sleepy.
You leaned into him without a second thought as he slipped one arm beneath your knees and the other around your back.
"Comfortable?" he asked before he could stop himself.
You nodded immediately, curling against his chest. Tucking your face against the crook of his neck with a sleepy sigh, as if you'd done it a hundred times before.
"...Very."
Law looked away before anyone could see the faint color creeping into his ears.
Behind him, the crew had gone unusually quiet.
Then...
"Ten thousand berries says they're together before the end of the month," Penguin whispered.
"You're on," Shachi whispered back.
Bepo simply smiled.
He'd never seen his captain hold someone so carefully or look quite so content while pretending he wasn't.
— 🌊 —
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A Day dedicated to you | 18+
pairing- lucci x f!reader
cw: smut, smidge of angst, mostly comfort, pet names (baby, love, doll, darling), light degradation, brat taming if you squint, soft lucci (what in the world!!), piv & oral sex, gentle intimacy, crying during sex, biting, tummy bulges clit stimulation, nipple stimulation, breeding, aftercare
𑣲 a/n- dedicated to my beautiful @mlemiie . happy birthday, my sweet girl! may lucci appear in your room and treat you like the princess you are<3 go wish her a happy birthday and support her! mlem's writing is the best and i took heavy inspo from her for this fic ♡ ૮₍ °´ ˘ ` ° ₎ა
Birthdays.
Love or hate it, it'll come.
By the age of ten, you've learned to really not care about it. Being in Cipher Pol 0, you've completely forgotten about it. It's marked on your calendar but you paid no mind.
It's just another day, except you're a year older. What's so special?
That is the mindset you have had for so long.
That is, until your husband noticed the mark while you were out on an excursion.
彡 Crawling Back To You.ᐟ
ʀᴏʙ ʟᴜᴄᴄɪ × ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
cw: implied stalking | wc: 1186
—ROB LUCCI is a man of few emotions. The very few that have become second nature are sadism and bloodlust. However, affection of any kind was unaccounted for. Worst of all, he could not stop it and, for a time, he hated that.
He hated how he craved those feelings.
Still, much as his mind yelled at him to stop staring at the owner of the café he's become a regular at, he refused to listen. His eyes, usually devoid of emotion, glazed with... something whenever they fell on her. It was odd for the man.
He hadn't spoken to her once (though Hattori solved that problem rather easily), and he never lingered long enough to engage in conversation, much less make eye contact that lasted longer than fifteen seconds and that's being generous.
He had a simple routine. Leave Galley-La during break hours, go to her café, order the usual, and sit at the usual spot all the way in the back. No conversation, no eye contact, just his presence. Every day like clockwork. He was fairly certain Kaku might have picked up on his... habit, though he cared little for it. It was supposed to be nothing after all.
But then, that routine was disrupted one day. Not in the way one would expect, no. He still visited the café and did the usual, but something changed.
Hiiiii! Hope you're doing well! ❤️
I was wondering if you could write a little something where Lucci proposes to the reader? I'd love to see how he would do it.
The Only Answer
Ohhh this is delicious. Lucci proposing is not going to be the sunshine-and-roses kind of thing—he’s not the type for grand gestures or soft speeches. His “proposal” would be intense, quiet, possessive, and almost a little unnerving… but still deeply sincere in his own way.
Warnings: possessive behaviour
Word Count: 780~
Pairing: Rob Lucci x Reader
crossposted on AO3
𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒋𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 ⠀﹒୨𝑒 nsfw, based on this ask
with a quiet huff, you rummaged through your clothes, after shuffling through hangers you’ve decided to pull out the whole wardrobe onto your bed and start from there instead of pulling outfit after outfit. the accumulated clothes flew around your room, discarded for not being good enough—not when you wanted to look your best for your on-deck crush.
you’ve been like that for a couple of minutes, wearing only a cute set of underwear while you looked through your clothes. it was a simple lacy set that always got you a boost of confidence, and today you wanted to see if sanji would like to have a drink with you after dinner. you hummed a soft tune as you pick a skirt from the pile on your bed and walked over to the mirror to check it out.
that’s when you hear the door open, the loud creek of wood startling you. “my lady, have you seen the—”
sanji stood there, paralyzed with his mouth open, almost slack-jawed and face beet-red. his visible eye was open with shock and the cigarette almost fell down to the floor. you could see his nostrils flare, you’ve known him enough to know that was a major nosebleed threatening to occur. the wheels were obviously turning inside his head, but the shock of walking in on you, seeing you in nothing but that lacy underwear that covered practically nothing must have him frozen in place.
you huffed and covered yourself with the nearest blanket, draping it over your chest and holding it to cover your bare ass too—you were still standing in front of the mirror, after all.
at this point, not a sound has came out of sanji, which was rare. the woman-loving cook seeing one of the crew girls’ naked and not even a screech of excitement? no, he just…turned. the door slammed behind him so hard it surprised you it didn’t come off its hinges.
“…sanji?” you asked, softly, trying to supress a smile.
“I AM THE WORST MAN ALIVE.” he screamed from the hallway. you laughed at his dramatic reaction. “I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING, CHERI—ohmygod i saw everything.”
you were now laughing out loud, satisfied that he did actually react to seeing your body almost naked, and positively so. that had to mean something, right?
“IT’S NOT FUNNY, DON’T LAUGH.”
“it kind of is.” by that moment you were already dressed in the previously picked skirt and a tight top. his embarrassed whines fueled something in you that fed off his attention, they served as a nice background music as you finished getting ready.
you opened the door and found him down on his knees in front of you. one of your brows raised, interested in this whole situation. “i’m decent now, sanji.” if you forced your voice to sound smoother, it was something only you had to know.
and—okay, the way he looked up to you kind of turned you on, and his kneeled position didn’t help your situation. you couldn’t help but fall for that puppy-eyed look, how his thick eyebrows furrowed preoccupied and his lips pouted, a faint pink line staining his cupid’s bow. his visible eye roamed over your figure from below, and you noticed the moment it landed on the underskirt view of your panties. his face redened again, but this time he tried to hide it by lowering his head.
“i’m so sorry, my angel, it was unchivalrous of me to walk in on you without knocking.” you had to supress the excited eyeroll when you hear that pouty murmur.
“it’s fine, sanji.”
“no, it’s not fine, ma chér, please let me make it up to you.”
oh, well. your plan could finally become true after all.
“let me think about it…”
“hmm, fuck! there, sanji—ohmygod.”
electricity traveled from your belly through your legs, his skilled mouth worked with a blend of hunger and reverence between your quivering thighs—broad strokes along your wet slit turning into more precise, more hard circles around your swollen clit. his index and middle fingers held your folds open for him, between licks they even thrusted shallow into your hole, teasing you.
he was good, sososo good. it felt like he somehow knew your whole body; how fast, how hard, where to pay special attention.
his lips latched onto your clit and your hands automatically pulled at the blonde strands on his head. the low, long hum he produced vibrated against your pussy and sent even more fuzzy sensations to your core.
he separated for a second to look at you, and you almost cried when he did—you were so close. he laughs, wiping the mix of spit and juices from his redened lips. “mm, you like that, mon chéri?” your hips jerked at his words, a fresh wave of slickness coating your slit from the raspy accent of that beautiful man.
“yes—fuck, i’m so close, please, sanji…”
“why such hurry? we have all day.”
