this is a NSFW blog that occasionally engages in dark themes occasionally (yandere) . i label my works with tags and warnings before, so be sure to read to ensure your safety and comfortability! please continue to read the rules before interacting with my blog!
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╰┈➤ unfortunately, this is only my hobby and not what pays bills, so please be patient with updates! if you would like to commission me for work, check out further below
╰┈➤masterlist | dividers | buy me a coffee | june requests masterlist
╰┈➤ what’s cookin good lookin? : see what i’m working on!
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requests
╰┈➤ requests are currently: open till june 14th; rec writing week june 15th-21st
╰┈➤ word count not guaranteed, but anywhere from 350+; Continue reading to learn how to make one!
╰┈➤ i write for afab reader for smut, (must be 18+ making the request) but gn is available for fluff and angst!
╰┈➤ i love to hear your ideas! that being said, i reserve the right to accept or ignore any asks i don’t feel comfortable writing.
╰┈➤please make your request clear to follow! ie: bruce wayne angst where he breaks up with you to protect you from societal scandal
╰┈➤fandoms im writing for, please check my masterlists to see specific characters!: naruto, one piece, batman, batfam, superman (2025), & more!
the horrors persist, but so do i! thank you for reaching out, hope you’re drinking water as well especially if you’re in large of the world affected by the heat waves happenin lately! 💗✨💗✨
don’t worry, attempting to redirect to this energy!
my beautiful gremlin raccoon, thank you for your positivity and your care!! it means the world to me and has been such a bright light these past few days! much love to you!!! 💗💗💗💗
i’m alright, just mental health is taking a bit of a struggle. hate when the brain be doing its thing you know, on top of life struggles and stresses! but i’m working through it and am starting to feel better!
my last 2 months moods:
but i’m working through fics and am hopeful to get some pieces out soon!
the mamma mia one piece fic!
looking glass - yandere one piece fic - straw hat crew x reader
déjà vu 3 - wally west x reader, ex!dick grayson
sex pollen dosed!clark & reader x bruce wayne
dom!jason x reader
and some lil drabbles and shit!
thank you all for your patience! i’ll be working through the comments through out the next couple of days!
Soooooooo….wheres the mammma Mia fanfic????? Today’s July 15……just wondering ( Big fan by the way)
guys it’s sitting at like 30k, but im sorry it might not be tn! i’m rereading it and hating it so im editing it more and more, but by the end of the week i promise!
thank you for reading, hope you don’t hate me! and that it’s not ass when it comes out!
The sound of your name, raw and hoarse, rips from Luffy’s throat. His hands are clamped so tight to your hips that you can feel the imprint of each calloused digit, digging deeper with every shuddering thrust. Sweat beads on his brow, sticky-sweet, dripping off the side of his face. His gaze, usually wild with mischief, is glazed with a deeper, hungrier mania as he watches where his cock drives into you, slick and flushed dark, pulling back just enough that you can feel every ridge of him dragging against your walls before he buries himself to the root again—and every time he does, Usopp’s answering thrust from behind presses him deeper still, the two of them finding a brutal, accidental rhythm that leaves no room for breath.
Usopp’s voice, usually so prone to nervous laughter and bluster, is stripped to a single, guttural register. “Fuck, you’re—“
Words break, reform, spill out again. His cock stretches you open from behind, thick and insistent, the drag of it so obscenely full that your thighs shake. You can feel every pulse of him, every vein, the slight upward curve that catches something inside you that makes your vision white at the edges. He laughs under his breath—even now, incredulous, audacious—and the vibration of it travels through his chest and into your back where he’s pressed flush against you.
His palm cracks against your ass, the slap resounding, and the sting blooms outward in a hot, electric ring. You feel it race up your spine, feel it in your nipples, feel it in the involuntary clench of your cunt around both of them—and they both feel that too, the groan that tears from Usopp’s chest low and desperate, Luffy’s hips stuttering forward with a punishing snap.
Each thrust from behind pushes you forward onto Luffy, drives him deeper, grinds your bodies together until the friction is unbearable. He leans in, mouth hot at your ear, his breath ragged and sweet. “You can take more, right? You wanna make us proud, yeah?” His teeth find the curve of your shoulder, biting down until you feel it in your toes, his tongue dragging over the mark he’s made as if he can taste your pulse. His hands slide from your hips to your ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts, palming them roughly, rolling your nipples between his fingers until you gasp against Nami’s thigh.
Nami.
She sits on the edge of the sofa above you and Luffy, her thighs bracketing your face, her weight settling forward with the imperiousness of a queen who has never once doubted her right to take what she wants. She grinds down against your mouth, not gently—never gently—her hips rolling in short, sharp circles that smear her slick across your lips and chin. You part your lips and lick a broad, flat stripe through her folds and she inhales sharply, fingers tightening in your hair until your scalp burns.
“Don’t even think of stopping,” she bites out, panting. Her voice is a whipcrack.
You don’t stop. You seal your mouth over her clit and suck, and the sound she makes—high and involuntary and nothing like the woman who haggles pirates into poverty—makes your own hips rock back instinctively against Usopp. You work your tongue in tight, deliberate circles, feeling the way she twitches and clenches against your face every time you hit the right angle. She tastes like salt and something sweeter underneath, heady and slick, coating your tongue. You tilt your wrist, pressing your thumb to the hood of her clit while your tongue dips lower, pushing inside her just enough to feel her flutter—
The sound she makes is stark and pleading, her thighs snapping shut around your ears, muffling the world to wet heat and the frantic pulse of her.
Behind you, Usopp has lost all pretense of restraint. His hands span your waist, thumbs digging bruises into the soft flesh above your hips as he drives into you, the slap of his hips against your ass obscenely loud in the small room. You can feel the head of his cock dragging against that spot inside you with every thrust, the angle sharpened by the way Luffy holds you open from the front.
“She’s gonna come,” Usopp pants, and there’s triumph in it, the satisfaction of a man who has done his homework. “Bet we can make her scream louder than the last island’s storm, huh, Captain?”
“Don’t challenge me.” Luffy’s grin is sharp even as his rhythm dissolves, his thrusts losing all coordination, becoming something frantic and animal. His cock grinds against the front wall of your cunt with every forward snap of his hips, and you can feel him everywhere, can feel both of them everywhere, the stretch so full it borders on too much and never quite crosses the line.
You clench around them deliberately—a long, slow squeeze—and the effect is immediate. Usopp’s breath punches out of him in a broken curse. Luffy’s head drops to your shoulder, his whole body shuddering.
“Do that again,” Luffy grits out, “and I swear—“
You do it again.
Above you, Nami’s fingers twist tighter in your hair, her hips rolling forward with a sudden, urgent violence. “There—don’t stop, don’t you fucking—“ Her voice breaks apart. You keep your lips locked around her, sucking in steady pulses, your thumb still working tight circles against her while she shakes above you. Her inner thighs clamp around your face, cutting off the light, and you feel the moment she tips over—the long, stuttering clench of her against your mouth, the flood of her slick on your tongue, the full-body tremor that shakes her from the hips down as she comes with a sound that is almost silent, almost too much.
She collapses forward, hands splayed across your back, her hips still rolling in slow, shivery figure-eights as she rides out the aftershocks against your mouth. You lick her through every one of them, soft and thorough, until she’s trembling for a different reason.
Below, Luffy is coming apart. You can hear it in the way his voice goes staccato, can feel it in the way his cock thickens inside you, can feel the desperate, helpless quality of each thrust. “Gonna—fuck—gonna—“ He bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to bruise, and the bright spike of pain tips you over the edge you’ve been teetering on. You clench around them both, clenching hard, rhythmic, milking—
Luffy comes with a shout muffled against your hair, buried to the hilt, and you feel him in pulses, hot and flooding, his hips jerking through each one.
Usopp is seconds behind him. His fingers scrabble at your hips, his pace shattering into three final, crashing thrusts, and then he’s groaning your name into the back of your neck, his cock pulsing inside you, his whole body going briefly rigid before he sags forward.
The three of you go down together in a tangled, breathless heap, slick with sweat and each other. Nami’s fingers, still loosely threaded in your hair, begin to trace lazy circles on your spine.
Her purr is soft and deeply, thoroughly satisfied.
a/n: teehee, hope you enjoyed!
don’t know if i ever mentioned it but i do imagine this one and the sanji/reader/robin/zoro one in the same universe as just one night
36 in my drafts. comment a number to help me clear them out!
i be checking your june masterlist every day in anticipation of my requested fic
*tiny gremlin raccoon waiting happily*
ahh!! i swear i’m working through them! life’s been kicking my ass, which is why i’m focused on just clearing my drafts that way something’s still posted!
thank you sm for your patience as well as everyone else who submitted!
(send me another message cause it might be done and lurking in the drafts ;)
modern au! one piece where you're asl's younger sister
number 5 from my drafts! comment a number to help me clear them out!
sanji: culinary student, working at an upscale restaurant.
-passionate about food prep,
-cooks when stressed.
-late night meals
-has been in love with you since forever
-coffee deliveries between classes,
-teaching you how to cook
-when visiting his restaurant, seeing sanji in his professional element, watching customers flirt with him and getting jealous, sanji gives you a dessert specifically for you.
zoro: local mma fighter, personal trainer/employee
-minimalist, terrible texter,
-constantly at the gym,
-helps pay bills through training/fights,
-is #1 trusted in emergencies.
he's teaching you self defense,
-drives you places, late-night convenience store runs,
-you patching him up after fights.
-you attend one of his fights where he's injured badly and tries to hide it.
-he gets irrationally protective at parties, "call me when you get home"
usopp: engineering/product design
-messy workspace, chaotic genius energy
-makes things specifically for you, fixes your laptop,
-studying together, gaming nights
-you're a test subject, staying overnight in lab
- you get flustered when praised publicly
-you're there when usopp gets an award for his work, and he doesn't hesitate to thank you.
nami: business/finance/economics
-campus networking queen,
-invests money
-runs a betting ring for the fights zoro does.
-shopping trips, bringing you to events, helping you budget especially for the home.
-you help her prepare presentations late at night
- fake dating at networking events, her possessiveness showing
vivi: political science/international relations
-overachiever, student council, ambassador program
-deeply caring, secretly overworks herself.
-study dates, library dates, emotional vulnerability,
-comforting each other during stress.
-falling asleep while studying,
-shared umbrella during the rain,
-you attend one of her speeches, someone flirts with you, vivi sees and gets jealous
robin: grad student & mueseum archive assistant
-researching historical preservation,
-terrifyingly intelligent, known and loved by professors
-tutoring sessions, museum visits, quiet intellectual intimacy, coffee shop dates
-robin showing you restricted archives
-working late together at the museum once you're hired as an intern
-you see robin in glasses and work mode,
-robin remembers the minuscule details about you.
law: medical school/surgical residency
-exhausted constantly, rarely socializes voluntarily, studies insane hours.
-accidental late-night convos, patching you up when you get injured at one of zoro's fights (luffy loses it and blames zoro and nami)
-sharing time in silence studying
-you falling asleep while waiting for him
-law walking you home at night,
-you bring him coffee, breakfast and snack for later and a kiss
-law gets visible upset when someone upsets you
franky: mechanic/auto-shop owner
-fixes everyone's car, lets the group hang around
-you work at the shop, franky's receptionist,
- group bonfire behind the shop,
- franky accidentally exposes everyone's feelings.
events:
library lock-in: overnight study prep before finals, shared blankets, sleep deprivation, falling asleep on shoulders, law and robin thriving, zoro and sanji sneaking food at 2 am.
fall festival: accidental hand holding, jealousy, group photos, rides/games, usopp winning you a prize, sanji buys you food, zoro silently carrying your things, luffy demanding everyone goes through the funhouse classic group shenanigans
house party: jealousy, dancing scenes, someone taking care of you, emotional confessions, what started as fun ends in emotional wreckage
coffee shop study: busy, busy, busy: robin in morning, law at night, vivi after class. sanji drops food off so you're having more than just caffeine and sugar.
group domesticity: folding laundry, grocery shopping, movie nights, cooking disasters, sharing rides, game nights, backyard bbqs, sleeping under the stars
someone else outside the group starts pursuing you, everyone reacts differently. jealousy and delicious explorations of emotions and completxity, this is where luffy starts understanding something might be happening.
you get overwhelemd/burnt out; who notices first, who handles is best, who makes it worse? hurt/comfort, different ways they'll take care of you.
when luffy finally notices what's happening and when he does? the different ways everyone panics.
thinking about how insufferable it has to be dating luffy. and not for the reasons people assume.
because it took you months, for your pet to warm up to you, to like you before eventually loving you.
and here comes luffy and your pet falls in love immediately after making eye contact. in fact, prefers luffy to you much to his delight and your annoyance.
pairing: bruce wayne x afab!reader
wc: 805
26 from my drafts, also rereading catching fire and peeta, i forgot how much i <3 u
You and Bruce were college friends; tired, alone, and yearning for the other, but believed that the other wouldn’t see them in a romantic light. It was a simple vow you and Bruce had made together when you were younger in college, and a vow you thought Bruce had forgotten about.
At least, that’s what you thought until one morning you’re watching the news recap from the night report when the newest clip from their pop culture segment plays. It’s none other than Bruce Wayne. He’s charming as always, bantering appropraitely and interacting with the live audience that was there perfectly. It’s filled with fans of all fenders wearing various outfits they all believe will succeed in gaining the billionaire’s attention.
When the host changes the line of questioning to Bruce’s romantic life, a favorite subject for the public to talk about.
Yor eyes start drifting away from the big screen and the topic.. It’s never been one you and Brucetalked much about. He was popular in college, and there were a few awakward instances, but one rather memorable one, but nothing that got brought up past the moment. And you never brought up yours or the few instances Bruce had wrongly assumed that your apartment was empty of any guests and made himself welcomed in your living room, watching the newest episode of your show without you, surprising you and your onre night stand with a ‘good morning’ from his corner of the couch.
That popularity Bruce had only grown in the uears since he’s taken control of his birthright, Wayne Enterprises and are all of the preomotions and collaborations, Bruce is damn near everywher.e
Doubly so if he’s seen potentially dating someone then they become the new it couple and are therfore everywhere. Though you understand the reason behind the question, since Bruce turned 33, he stopped being seen with anyone, after his last long term relationship ended.
Whenever he’s asked about romance his response has always been deflection and work. which to a degree, could be obviously seen as true. In that same time frame, Wayne Enterprises abd ut’s subsidiaries and Gotham as a whole has seen great improvements in infrastructure, community and public transportation. It’s half the reason that they’re barking up the tree to see if he’s with someone. He’s rich, handsome, and appararently a good man, why is he single?
So as your thumb begins to absent mindly start scolling, you almost miss it. Would have too if it wan’t the loud and clear audience ‘awe’ that makes your head snap up to see Bruce uncharacteristically looks…flustered? Enamoured?
The host practically jumps out of his chair at the fact that he’s getting the scopp first. “Oh, that face clearly means something. Who’s the lucky person? The newest dating partner?”
“Well I wouldn’t call her my dating partner. She’s my, well she’s my fiancee.”
You drop your phone and jaw same time with the audience as some of the scrrech in glee, most with dispair.
Fiancee? So he was secretely dating someone. Having prided yourself in knowing him at one point, you secretly thought that he wasn’t dating anyone these past couple years. Actually started daydreaming and giving some thought and validity to the whole ‘let’s get hitched after we turn 35’ thing. Seems like you were wrong. You tell yourself its wounded ego which is why you’re so hurt, not wanting to admit what it could actually mean.
“Oh is that right?” The host continues.
“Yes, we’ve known each other for years, but wanted us to each have enough time to establish ourselves in our respective careers before becoming “The Waynes”. Those names carry a lot of weight in this city and I want to make sure I do my parents and their legacy right.
“Oh, but now’s the tight time?”
Bruce is practically radiating glee and looks love stricken. Holy shit, is he truly in love?
“Yeah, it is. We’ve both recently turned 35 and don’t want to wait much longer.”
Your brain halts and keeps repeating what you just heard. ‘we’ve both recently turned 35’, ‘known each other for years’
He couldn’t mean? But he’s said nothing! It must be someone else, a coincidense.
Just then, there’s a strong knock at your front door. You pick up your phone, before lowering the tv volume and walking over to the door. You pause to glance out the peek hole just to let out a disbelieving sigh. The fucking nerve.
You frantically unlock your door before throwing it open to glare furiously at none other than Bruce Wayne who looks unbelievably handsome and smug as he leans in your doorway with a giant bouquest of flowers in his hand, a velvet ring box precariously angled within the bunch.
“Morning, fiancée.” He says with a wink and a smile.
something something something, you and your lover were both going to turn into vampires to live forever together, but a witch interrupted you two and placed a curse. but she was nifty and made sure to only ruin the ceramony once your lover had already began the transition, leaving you human.
thus began the cycle where every couple of centuries, you would get reincarnated, meet him, fall in love all over again before you die and the cycle repeats.
but in the latest time you reincarnated, he's already been falling in love with someone else. and after centuries of him waiting on you till you appear again, he deserves some of his own happiness, even it's not with you
but he doesn't know it's your final reincarnation, his final chance of a life with you. it's why your reincarnation cycles have started skipping the last two turns, becoming more unpredictable.
the catch? if your lover continued to choose you in every life, the cycle would be broken. a clause you knew when the curse was casted, but he didn't remember.
angst, second-chance romance, where we see their love literally throughout time. all the various times they fall in love, different ways they meet, etc.
inspired by those tik tok edit audios of "fall in love again and again", and "would you fall in love with me again?"
i think it could work for a variety of characters, but was written with klaus mikaelson in mind tbh.
i think it could work in aus for anyone, but specifically those who will be down bad since this would have so much yearning involved. specifically; bruce wayne, clark kent, wally west, jason todd, sanji, portgas d ace, whoever you want
number 22 in my drafts to clear!
hiiii first off i love your writing so much!! im obsessed with everything you’ve ever written it’s all so incredibly done, and i hope that my writing can one day be as good as yours!!
secondly, a smut drabble request if you feel like it: sucking sanji off underneath the kitchen counter, hidden from view, when someone else wanders in and he has to pretend that hes not so close to cumming in your mouth
hi! thank you sm for requesting this, i genuinely teared up reading that and i had a lil pep in my step when i read this message! sorry it's late, life really got in the way, but i hope you enjoy! and you'll probably be better than me, and that's the way it's suppose to be! you'll learn and grow and be incredible!
pairing: sanji x afab!reader
wc: 1.1k
cw: oral sex (male receiving), caught fucking sucking, crew bantering (nami, usopp and sanji), implied female receiving oral at the end
18+ MDNI | 18+ MDNI | 18+ MDNI | 18+ MDNI | 18+ MDNI | 18+ MDNI |
Sanji doesn't know what he's done to deserve this. He can't tell if he's in heaven or hell. Well, not hell, nowhere with you could ever be classified as hell.
But he's rock fucking solid in his pants and can't do a damn thing about it, can't leave, because he promised to help you supervise your baking. Robin's birthday. You wanted to give her something made with your own two hands, rather than outsourcing to Sanji the way everyone else does.
And while Sanji always knew he was attracted to you, he hadn't anticipated what watching you move around the kitchen — his kitchen — completely at ease, humming softly to yourself while you folded batter with a confidence that surprised him, would do to him. The way you'd absently licked a smear of chocolate off your thumb. The way you'd stretched to reach the upper shelf and your shirt had ridden up.
He shifts his weight for the third time in as many minutes, angling his hips slightly away from the counter.
You sigh, setting down your spoon, and turn to look at him fully.
"Am I doing this all wrong? Is that why you look like you're ready to bolt out of here?" The crease between your brows is genuine, your voice carrying a soft, uncertain edge.
Sanji is practically horrified. He crosses the kitchen immediately, reaching out to take your hand in both of his. Absolutely not, you're doing beautifully, you could never—"
And that's when your eyes drop.
The silence between you stretches exactly one second.
Which is how you end up on your knees on the kitchen tile, the mixing bowl still sitting on the counter above your head. Sanji's slacks are open, shoved down just enough, and he's flushed from the collar of his shirt up to his cheekbones. His pupils are blown so wide the blue of his irises is barely a ring.
You spit into your palm, working it slowly over the length of him, watching his jaw clench with no small amount of satisfaction. He's warm and heavy in your hand, a bead of precome smearing under your thumb when you drag it over the head, and he exhales through his nose like he's been punched.
"You're staring," you tell him.
"Obviously," he breathes.
You open your mouth to say something else when you hear it.
Footsteps from down the hallway are getting louder.
You both freeze.
Sanji moves first, stepping back toward the counter in one fluid motion. You press yourself flat against the cabinet beneath it, tucking into the space behind the tall counter — the one Sanji had insisted on during renovations,
I'm not destroying my back for the rest of my life, he'd argued, and you had teased him about it for weeks. Right now, you could kiss him for it.
You hear Nami's voice first, then Usopp's, before the kitchen door swings open. You wait a bit as greetings are exchanged before they jump into conversation, before you wrap your hand around Sanji again, just to feel him twitch.
He goes very, very still above you.
You drag your tongue up the underside of him, base to tip, slow and deliberate, and feel the full-body shudder he suppresses. You mouth at the head of him, lips soft, then kiss the side of his cock. When it jumps against your lips, you muffle a laugh against the inside of his thigh.
Then you take him into your mouth properly. Sanji's cock rests heavy on your tongue, the heat of him pulsing with every careful swallow. You feel every ridge, every throb as you take him deeper, your lips stretched tight around the thickness. The underside drags along your palate, smooth and fever-warm, and when you hollow your cheeks, the suction makes his hips jerk once before he locks them still.
His breathing turns ragged above you. You can hear the strain in every exhale, the way he fights to keep his voice level while Nami and Usopp talk about supplies. The head of his cock nudges the back of your throat, and you swallow around it deliberately; the wet clutch makes his thigh muscles jump under your palm. Precome leaks steadily onto your tongue, salty and slick, mixing with your spit until everything is messy and hot.
You pull back just enough to let your tongue swirl under the crown, tracing the sensitive ridge, then sink down again in one smooth motion. Sanji's fingers dig into the counter edge so hard the wood creaks. A low, choked sound escapes him; half groan, half cough, when you take him to the root and hold there, nose pressed to the soft hair at his base. His balls draw up tight against your chin.
Sanji makes a low, broken sound in the back of his throat.
"—what was that?" Usopp asks.
"We're completely out of flour," Sanji says, and his voice only drops once, only slightly, when your throat tightens around him as you swallow. "And the good olive oil. I've been meaning to say something, we need to make a port stop, the state of this pantry is honestly—" you pull back and sink down again, and his next words come out distinctly lower, "—honestly criminal."
His cock twitches hard in your mouth, the shaft thickening further as you feel him edge closer. The tension radiates through him; his stomach clenches visibly, breath catching every time you suck harder or let your throat flutter around him. You can sense how close he is; the way his legs tremble, the frantic pulse under your tongue, the way his free hand hovers like he wants to grab your hair but doesn't dare.
You ease off just enough to keep him right there, hovering on the brink. Spit trails down your chin as you lick slow stripes along the length, feeling every vein throb against your tongue. Sanji's hips make tiny, aborted thrusts he can't quite stop. His breathing grows shallow, desperate. Another swallow around the head, and his whole body locks up, a strangled noise caught behind clenched teeth. He's right on the edge now, cock jerking insistently, balls drawn high, seconds from flooding your mouth if you push him just a little further.
Eventually, Nami and Usopp drift toward the door, their conversation shifting to something about the log pose. You slow, just slightly, dragging it out, and then you hear Usopp pause.
"Sanji, I gotta ask. Are you flexing right now?"
You stop moving entirely, taking him out of your mouth, as you press your lips together.
"What?" Sanji says.
"Your whole body — you're flexing. Your veins are everywhere, and you're clearly tense." A pause. "Is cause Nami ‘s here? Is that why you're doing the thing?"
Nami makes a withering sound. "Don't drag me into this."
Usopp's voice drops to something almost disappointed. "Sometimes you're just too weird, Sanji."
"Agreed," says Nami.
The door swings. Before it closes all the way, Nami's voice carries back, crisp and deliberate: "I'll just — shut this for you."
The latch clicks.
You both listen to their footsteps fade down the corridor.
Then Sanji steps back from the counter and reaches down for you, hands under your arms, pulling you up and onto your feet in one motion. He walks you backward into the counter behind you, and his mouth finds yours before you've fully caught your balance — deep and slow and thorough, his fingers coming up to cup your jaw, tilting your head back.
You kiss him back just as hard, hands fisting in the front of his shirt.
He pulls back just enough to breathe, forehead tipping toward yours, and his voice drops to something low and unhurried.
"Let me return the favor." His thumb drags along your jaw. "Sit up on that counter and let me take care of you. I want to taste you."
part 3 of ex soulmate!clark, endgame!bruce
wc: 440
a/n: number 15 in my drafts to clear! just some thoughts to continue the story. comment a number to help me kick my ass into gear!
walking hand in hand with bruce into the watchtower. what you didn't expect was for clark to walk into the meeting room 5 minutes late into a meeting literally no one expected him to be at.
everyone saw the viral clip of lois lane finding her soulmate in front of her favorite and rumored partner superhero who rescued them.
lois chose, but didn't make the same choice that clark had when approached with you.
now you’re sitting next to bruce, who’s actively trying his best to pretend like he’s not practically jumping out of his skin every time he catches clark’s side eye towards you
you have to grab ahold of his hand under the table, squeezing it to provide comfort, sharing a small smile and conversation with a few looks
‘relax, we’re okay. let him be. i’m looking at you.”
‘if i catch him looking one more time, i’m not responsible for what i do.’
‘but if you get into a fight then our meetings gonna be extended, and date night gets delayed’
bruce just gives you a plain look, clearly stating a ‘and?’
you, in turn, raise an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk on your lips.
bruce raises an eyebrow back, ‘oh. seems like someone has a secret. would you like to share?’
and clark’s just sitting there, watching what feels like another version of the life he could have had. a life with you
having unspoken conversations in meetings
planning date nights around your hero life
holding your hand as you enter or leave the javelin
meals in his kitchen, regardless of the time, the smell of breakfast always lingering in the air
the way you’d look in his arms, enjoying a rare moment of people as the sunsets. he’d take you to his favorite place, where he goes to relax and just be
and to be able to share that with you? to share pieces of himself he never thought he could share (didn’t even dare to share with lois.
because you understand darkness. the crueler aspects of the hero life, and the thoughts that occasionally could creep in, that if said aloud, would give them its own type of power.
but instead he’s watching you move forward with your life with bruce. watching the tender, careful touches you both share.
the way you both lean on the other, an unsaid appreciation and trust between you two, clear for anyone to see
the love that’s clear in both your eyes. in the way your heartbeats sync, becoming one and almost inseparable.
until finally you come to the watchtower together with your own set of matching gold rings.
cw: blood drinking, medical inaccuracies since i’m not a doctor, tension
based in this same vamp!afab!reader verse, to the anon who requested, i hope you enjoy!
You were going to kill Luffy.
Not seriously — you'd had that impulse cataloged and discarded roughly three hundred times since you'd met him, and you suspected it would never actually graduate past a very detailed fantasy. But you were going to think about it extensively while you stood in the corridor of the Polar Tang and reminded yourself that you were an apex predator and therefore above throwing a tantrum about sleeping arrangements.
The submarine was quiet in the way that things only ever happened when everyone aboard had made a conscious, coordinated decision to be somewhere else. Bepo had found you first, which you knew now with the particular clarity of hindsight, was not a coincidence. The polar bear mink had looked at you with those enormous, guileless eyes and said, 'the captain needs help moving some things from the medical bay,' and you had thought, 'of course, fine, a task, something to do with your hands'. You followed him directly into the one room on this ship you had spent the better part of three days avoiding.
Law hadn't even looked up when you walked in, which somehow made it worse.
He was standing at the far end of the exam table, reviewing something on a clipboard, his coat draped over the chair behind him. The room smelled clean and antiseptic and faintly of something warm underneath — the same something that every room on this ship smelled of, that you had been very carefully not thinking about.
Him.
Fourteen crew members. Fourteen steady, distinct rhythms that your body had spent three days logging whether you wanted it to or not, filing each one away with the kind of thoroughness that had kept you alive for longer than anyone aboard this ship would probably believe.
Yet, Law's was the one you'd forced yourself to stop listening to.
It wasn't that it was louder. It was that it was — deliberate, somehow. Controlled. The kind of heart that had been trained into evenness the same way the rest of him had, by someone who understood that a racing pulse was information and information was a liability.
It annoyed you enormously.
"Close the door," he said, still not looking up.
"Where are the supplies?"
"There are no supplies."
You looked at Bepo. Bepo looked at the floor, then at the door. Then, with an apologetic sort of urgency, back at the floor.
"Bepo," you call his name lowly.
"I'm sorry," Bepo said, and left.
The door clicked shut behind him with the soft finality of a trap springing.
Law started small, glad that he now has you after days spent with you in his sub, but carefully avoiding him. After needling Luffy when discussing the next plan for their alliance, he managed to get the other captain to agree to let Law bring you with his crew, under the guise of supplying extra strength support for the Heart Pirates.
In reality, since Law became aware of your secret, he's been dying to get to know more about you. And since he heard how unique the experience of having you feed on them is, he's more than a little interested in having his own experience.
But first, some questions for his own journal.
"Conditional immortality or true immortality? There's a distinction — conditional implies a kill condition exists, which the historical record suggests, but the mechanism is—"
"Law."
"—debated across three separate schools of thought, none of which had access to a living subject, so I'd like to—"
"Law."
"—settle it definitively while I have the opportunity, so if you could just." He waves a hand, gesturing for you to continue while he waits with his pen on an empty journal page.
"What? No."
"Fine then. Estimated total lifespan," he said, in the same tone someone might use to read off a grocery list. "Working theory puts it somewhere in the range of indefinite, but I want a primary source confirmation."
"Don't you know," you said, with the particular sweetness of someone who had been deploying it as a weapon for longer than he'd been alive, "that it's rude to ask a woman her age?"
He stopped and turned, finally, and looked at you — and there it was, that ghost of a smirk, arriving at the corner of his mouth and departing in the span of a breath, restrained by the same discipline that kept everything else about him so carefully measured. It implied he had more where that came from and had made a considered decision to ration it.
"Noted," he said, and turned back to his clipboard. "Sunlight, does it cause full combustion, impaired function, or cosmetic sensitivity only? The accounts conflict."
"I'm leaving."
"You're not leaving; the door is sealed." He turned a page. "Reflections, the mirror aversion — physiological basis or psychological artifact from an era when mirrors were silver-backed? Because silver aversion is well-documented, but the optical component has never been satisfactorily—"
"I have a reflection."
"Interesting." He made a note. An actual note, in that small precise handwriting, like you'd confirmed something he'd had a running bet on. "Running speed. The historical ceiling is documented but I want a controlled measurement, so if you'd be willing to—"
"I will not be willing—"
"Okay, garlic. Objectively. Yes or no."
"It smells bad."
"That's a no with caveats, I'll note that as inconclusive." Another page. "Invitation threshold — is that a hard physiological limitation or is there cultural variation in how the compulsion—"
"I walked onto this ship without being invited."
"You were waved on by Bepo, I'm not sure that counts, he's a mink—"
"It counts."
"—and I'd like to run a controlled—"
"There is nothing to run, I walked onto your ship, Law, I am standing in your medical bay, I have been standing here for—" You checked. "Eleven minutes, none of which have been invited, and you have used all of them to ask me things that are either wrong, outdated, or frankly offensive—"
"The feeding window," he continued, with the serenity of someone who had decided your emotional state was data rather than a deterrent. "Between feedings, what is the minimum interval. Maximum before cognitive or physical degradation begins. I want to know the curve."
"I'm going to degrade you in a moment—"
"Don't tempt me. And the bite specifically." He set the clipboard down and turned fully, folding his arms, and the shift in his attention landed with a different weight. It's sharper, more focused, the way it got when he stopped circling and arrived at the actual point.
"The Straw Hats. All three accounts — Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji — unprompted. Consistent details, unusual enthusiasm. I want to know more. The saliva compound, is it purely analgesic or is there a secondary—"
"Enough."
"—euphoric component, because the behavioral description suggests—"
"I said enough."
You felt it before you could stop it; the red washing in at the edges, the bloodlust arriving like a tide, hot and furious and finished with this. Your eyes shifted. The canines dropped with that slow, familiar ache, and you turned on him with three centuries of accumulated patience finally locating its absolute limit.
He stopped, completely and utterly, like someone had lifted the needle off the record, his clipboard still raised, his eyes gone wide and absolutely, entirely, unguardedly alive.
The silence was total.
You held yourself very still, running the old discipline through its paces. Slow, even, don't reach, the red recedes by sheer stubborn will. It took longer than it should have. It took longer because Law was looking at you with an expression you had never once seen on him, with three days of careful observation, all that controlled architecture completely abandoned in favor of something raw and undisguised.
He looked, for just a moment, like a man who had spent his entire life looking for something and had just found it in the last place he'd thought to check.
The ember that had been sitting quietly in your chest for three days went a degree warmer.
Don't, you told it.
"Your sclera," he said. His voice had gone quiet in a way that would have horrified him if he'd noticed. "Both of them. Full iris shift, I've read accounts, but the—" He stopped, exhaling while his hand was already rising. You let it, too off-balance to object, as his thumb settled beneath your eye with a lightness that felt more like reverence than examination. "The vascularization at the outer corners. Is that permanent or does it only present during the—"
He lifted your upper lip; the sound you made in response was absolutely undignified.
The expression that moved across his face was complicated and warm and gone before it fully arrived. He released you, his hands dropped, but he didn't step back, and the distance between you remained closer than it had any reasonable right to be.
"Retractable," he said, mostly to himself. "Emotional trigger, not involuntary reflex." A pause as his eyes moved over your face with that same focused attention, slower now, less clinical. "The Straw Hats were very descriptive about the bite. Sanji in particular."
"Of course he was," you said.
"He used the word transcendent."
"He's dramatic."
"Zoro said it was the only thing that had ever made him feel like he'd lost a fight and didn't mind." Something in his tone had shifted, still precise, but quieter.
"That's not dramatic. That's specific." His gaze returned to yours, and the brightness in it had settled into something that was asking a question it wasn't quite putting into words yet. "I want to understand you."
You looked at him for a long moment, then you huffed out a breath that was almost a laugh. "You do realize," you said, "that I'm the predator between us."
He tilted his head. "Is that a complaint?"
"It's a reminder. Not to go and antagonize the predator and make yourself prey."
"Mm." The ghost of the smirk again, more present this time, and then he did something you were not prepared for.
He moved, shifting his weight with an unhurried ease, and then he was sitting on the edge of the exam table, one hand braced behind him, the other resting loose on his knee.
The repositioning shed whatever remained of the clinical energy and left something else in its place: something comfortable in its own gravity, taking up space as if it were entitled to it without being loud about it. His coat was still off, allowing your eyes to trace the tattoos that ran the length of his forearms, dark against his skin. He watched you from under the fall of his hair with an expression that was calm and intent and not remotely as detached as he usually managed.
He looked, in other words, extremely good, and he knew it.
"Are you trying to say," he said, "that you want a bite of me?"
"That's not! I didn't say—"
"Only for science," he said, "of course."
Then he lifted his right hand, and with his audacity, he showed you.
Not with words, he'd used enough of those. His fingers moved to the inside of his wrist first, two fingertips pressing lightly against the skin there, tracing the faint blue suggestion of the vein beneath with a slowness that felt entirely deliberate. Up the pale inside of his forearm, following the line of it, unhurried, the tattoos shifting with the movement. He turned his arm slightly as he went, giving you the angle, like he was walking you through an anatomy lesson, except that nothing about the quality of his attention made it feel like a lesson. His fingers climbed to the soft bend of his elbow, pressed there for a moment, then continued, tracing the inside of his upper arm until his hand arrived at his own throat, fingertips resting at the pulse point just below his jaw.
He held it there; his eyes stayed on yours the entire time.
"So," he said, quietly, the smirk was gone, replaced by something more honest and considerably more dangerous. "Where's the best place?"
The question had been rhetorical; you both knew that. He had just answered it himself, with his own hands, mapping himself out for you like a territory he'd already decided to offer.
Your mouth had gone dry somewhere around the elbow.
"What?" you ask. The word came out hoarse, smaller than you intended, and his eyes tracked the shift in your voice with that same focused precision he gave everything.
"I'm interested in knowing what your bite feels like." He continues, utterly composed. "Seems the 'monster trio' has been generous with their reviews. I prefer primary sources."
His hand dropped from his throat to rest back on his knee, easy, unhurried, like he hadn't just shifted your attention completely. "We're losing time since you spent half the journey avoiding me." A pause as something released quietly beneath the words, but your supernatural hearing allowed you to get, "Unfortunately."
He pushed his sleeve the rest of the way up and looked at you. Patient and open, the dare so quiet it barely registered as one, just the steady weight of his attention and his pulse and his arm resting palm-up across his knee, waiting.
Your feet moved before your better judgment caught up.
"The wrist," you said. Your voice had returned to something functional, though it cost you. "For the first time at least. The vein sits closer to the surface, so it's easier to control the volume. Less risk."
"Risk to me or to you?"
You met his eyes. "Both. If I'm not careful—" You stopped. Started again, quieter. "I'm always careful. I want you to know that. It's been years since I—"
"I know," he said. The steadiness in it was different from the evenness you'd been cataloging for three days; warmer, more personal, carrying something he wasn't bothering to conceal anymore. "Come here."
You got closer. The distance closed by degrees, and when you were close enough, you took his wrist in both hands carefully, the way you always did, grounded. You felt his pulse jump once against your fingertips.
"There's a compound," you said, keeping your eyes on the vein, giving yourself something precise to focus on that wasn't his face. "In my saliva. Mild analgesic effect. If I'm careful, you won't feel—"
"I'm familiar with how anesthetics work," he said, and the dryness in it held something warm underneath.
"Right," you said. "Of course you do."
A beat of silence. You're now intensely focused on the sound of his heartbeat, slowly but starting to beat faster.
"Does it always work?" he asked. "The numbing."
"For them, yes." You paused. "It takes more concentration to ensure they feel nothing when I—" You stopped.
"When you care about not hurting them," he finished.
You didn't answer, and he didn't push. You brought his wrist up. The last thing you registered before your focus narrowed entirely, was his other hand lifting slowly, giving you time to see it coming before settling at the back of your head. His thumb resting at the base of your skull, the warmth of it a steady point of contact that was somehow more disarming than everything else he'd done combined.
"Go ahead," he said quietly.
Your eyes turned red as your fangs dropped down, and you bit down with no further hesitation.
The sound he made was low and immediate and not entirely composed, something that started controlled and didn't entirely stay that way. His hand tightened at your nape — not hard, just present, deliberate, and warm.
You felt his heartbeat through your fingertips and your mouth simultaneously, that controlled rhythm responding now in ways that had nothing clinical about them, and the ember in your chest that had been sitting there since the moment he'd first touched your face went several degrees warmer all at once.
"Good," he murmured, barely sound at all, directed at the crown of your head like he hadn't quite decided to say it aloud.
You pulled back, your thumb pressing to the small mark. You didn't look up immediately, because you needed one moment — just one — before you had to be composed again.
His pulse was running faster. Measurably, undeniably faster.
"Well?" you said.
He was quiet for a beat, so you looked up.
Whatever his expression was, he hadn't rearranged it. The brightness was still there, open and unguarded, and underneath it something slower and more certain that he wasn't bothering to hide. He looked at you the way he'd looked at the shift in your eyes; like you were the most interesting thing he had encountered in a very long time, except that this was warmer and considerably more deliberate.
"Fascinating," he said.
You laughed. real one, short and slightly helpless, surprised out of you entirely, and something in his expression shifted at the sound of it in a way he definitely didn't realize was visible.
"You're going to be insufferable about this," you said.
"Mmh, I have follow-up questions." He says, his hand moving from the back of your neck to cup your face, thumb picking up the remainder of his blood from your lips.
"Of course you do." You respond, fondness coming out despite your best wishes.
"I'd like to schedule—"
"Law."
"Tomorrow," he said simply. "We still have three more days." He glanced down at his wrist, at your thumb still pressed to his pulse point, and made no move to reclaim it. His voice dropped, quiet and even. "I'd like to make better use of them."
You shared a glance, unhurried and certain. That ghost of a smirk present at the very edge of his mouth, like he already knew what you were going to say and was simply extending you the courtesy of saying it yourself.
"Fine," you said.
His heartbeat answered you before he did.
a/n: i fear the power this man has over me, not gonna lie. but i'm not mad about it, lmao!
this was in my drafts and finally got over it to post thanks someone encouraging me to let loose number 24!
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
pairing: older!monster trio x younger!afab!reader
content: what was meant to be a relaxing surprise day trip for the monster trio turned into some interesting thoughts
cw: smut, breeding kink activated, multiple orgasms, marathon sex, huge dick luffy (he does it on purpose), dirty talk,
wc: 4.2k
in the same verse:
╰┈➤40s!older!straw hat crew x younger!afab!reader drabbles • older!sanji • older!zoro • older!luffy • older!law coming soon
18+ MDNI | 18+ MDNI | 18+ MDNI | 18+ MDNI | 18+ MDNI | 18+ MDNI
The island hadn’t changed much since they’d last visited. The salty breeze still rolled in from the cliffs, the fields were still dotted with wildflowers. Children’s laughter still carried farther than the waves ever could.
From the top of the hill, the three pirates paused. Below them, in the middle of an open field, you were entirely oblivious to their arrival.
A little boy was hanging upside down from your shoulders as though you were a tree branch. Two girls had woven flower crowns and were arguing over whose looked prettier on your head, while another child tugged relentlessly on your sleeve, desperate for your attention.
You gave every single one of them your attention, giving them words or touch of comfort until you can pay attention to them.
You crouched to tie one child’s untied shoe without being asked, wiping a young girls face free of tears when she tripped. When the youngest struggled to keep up with the older children, you scooped him into your arms without breaking your conversation.
It looked… natural.
Luffy smiled first. “She’s gotten popular.”
Sanji’s lips curled upward before he could stop them. “They adore her.”
“They always do,” Zoro answered quietly.
None of them moved, not seeing any reason to interrupt, watching you laugh felt strangely peaceful.
An older woman carrying a woven basket wandered up the hill, pausing when she noticed the three unfamiliar men standing so still. She followed their line of sight.
“Oh,” she chuckled knowingly. “It’s nice to see you guys again.”
Sanji straightened politely. “Hello Granny, how are you?”
“You know these old bones ache, but feeling better seeing your handsome faces!” The woman smiled fondly. “I know a few other people that’ll be happy to see you.”
She gestured toward the field below. “Whenever she’s free, she’s here.”
As if to prove her point, another child darted across the grass and collided into your side. You laughed, steadying them before immediately joining whatever game they’d invented.
The older woman’s expression softened. “She’ll make a wonderful mother someday, wouldn’t she?”
The words settled over the three men like sunlight, none of them replying.
Not because they disagreed. But because, without warning, their minds betrayed them.
Sanji saw it first. It wasn’t the field anymore, instead a warm kitchen washed in early morning light.
The windows were open, letting in the scent of the sea while breakfast simmered on the stove.
You stood at the counter, still in one of his oversized shirts, quietly laughing as tiny hands reached insistently for the bowl of strawberries you’d just finished cutting.
“No, sweetheart,” you teased gently. “Those are for everyone.”
“But Mama…” The tiny voice was impossibly familiar, a little girl.
Blond curls that refused to stay brushed no matter how carefully he fixed them. Your smile, his eyes and eyebrows.
She’s pouting at you with all the dramatic devastation she’d undoubtedly inherited from him before immediately climbing into your lap instead.
Sanji can imagine himself crossing the kitchen with two cups of coffee, one prepped just the way you like. One little hand immediately reached for him instead.
“Daddy!” She practically launched herself into his arms.
He laughed, and not the practiced laugh he gave customers. Something softer, something quieter.
He kissed the top of her head before looking over at you, smiling at him in that way you always did, warm and content, as if this was simply home.
“…Sanji?”
Luffy’s voice snapped him back, making him blink as the field returned, the sight of you chasing children through the grass reminding him that this is the present, regardless of how badly he feels now.
His cigarette had burned almost to the filter, so he quietly extinguished it. He turns to the right and sees Zoro, also lost in his own thoughts.
Zoro hated how easily the image came. He wasn’t someone who daydreamed; rather, he just slept, yet somehow there you were, sitting cross-legged beneath a tree, reading aloud from a weathered book.
A little boy rested against your side, already half asleep despite insisting he wasn’t tired. Green hair paired with your nose, his tiny wooden practice sword lay forgotten beside him.
“Again,” the little boy mumbled sleepily.
You laugh, running a comforting hand through his hair. “You’ve heard this story three times today.”
“One more.”
You looked over at Zoro with that familiar smile. “He gets that from someone.”
The swordsman chuckles as he approaches the two of you. “I wonder who.”
He pretended not to hear you, causing you to laugh. A breeze stirred through the trees as the boy yawned before absentmindedly reaching toward him.
“Dad.” Such a simple word, and he says it like it's no big deal. The child didn’t even open his eyes when Zoro lifted him into his arms.
Complete trust and certainty that he’d never let him fall. Zoro adjusted the sleeping weight against his shoulder, then looked at you.
You reached over to brush a stray lock of hair away from the little boy’s forehead before your fingers lingered against Zoro’s arm.
The silence between you wasn’t awkward; it never needed words. It simply was.
“Oi.” Luffy’s elbow nudged him, making Zoro blink hard as the sleeping child disappeared, and only the field remained.
“You alright?”
“Yeah.” His answer came a little too quickly.
Luffy didn’t realize he’d stopped smiling. The image shifted almost effortlessly into a sunny afternoon aboard the Thousand Sunny, the sound of tiny footsteps racing across the deck.
“Mama! Mama! Look!”
A little boy with messy black hair sprinted toward you carrying a beetle nearly the size of his face.
You gasped dramatically, dropping to your knees to make yourself the same height as him, “No way! That’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen!”
“I found it! Are you proud of me?"
“Of course I am! You did so well! It landed on my face, but I still caught it fast!” The little boy puffed out his chest proudly, his smile beaming and familiar.
Luffy laughed at the image you two had created, making you snap your head up to look at him. Your lips pull into a mischievous smile before you whisper towards your son. “You should show your dad, you know, he's kind of an expert on these things.”
The child spun around, eyes squinting shut as he saw the figure there. “Dad!!”
Small feet pounded across the deck before crashing straight into Luffy’s legs. He caught the little boy automatically, lifting him high into the air.
The laughter sounded like yours. Like his, like both of you at once in this beautiful little package, shoving a beetle in his face. You wandered over, slipping effortlessly beneath Luffy's free arm, chuckling slightly when he sees the smile still on your face.
“You encouraged this.” He whispers into your ear, laughing broadly when you give him an unrepentant grin.
“I definitely did.”
“You know we’re going to have bugs in our room.” He teases you, eyes softening as they take you in, looking beautiful and relaxed by his side.
“We already do.” You rolled your eyes, “I married a menace. Then gave birth to another."
“You love me, love us.”
“I do.” The words came so easily, so naturally, like they’d always belonged there.
Luffy’s chest tightened as he was brought out of the moment when he heard your shriek of joy when you lie down in the field, the children swarming around you, and the beautiful melody of laughter the group of you makes.
Luffy's chest tightened, not knowing when he wanted that, when that changed.
"Zoro, Sanji?" he asks, never taking his eyes off of you. He adjusts his hat just so he can get a better view of you. "Have you guys ever thought about having kids?"
Neither answered immediately, because they had just now and in almost painful detail.
"Yeah," Sanji admitted first.
Zoro rubbed the back of his neck. "More than I expected, if I'm honest."
Luffy laughed softly, "Yeah, I think she'd be really good at it."
The trio looked toward you again. You had gathered all the children into a circle now, animatedly telling some ridiculous story that had every single one of them hanging on your every word.
"Yeah, she would," Sanji murmured.
No one noticed the small smile tugging at Zoro's mouth. "Yeah."
Before the silence could stretch any further—
"Luffy!" A little boy had spotted them, then another, and another. Within seconds, the peaceful field erupted into delighted shrieks.
"They're here!"
"The pirates are back!"
Children flooded toward the hill like an unstoppable wave. Luffy barely had time to laugh before three of them slammed into him at once.
Sanji was immediately surrounded by questions about sweets and recipes, while Zoro sighed as two boys wrapped themselves around his legs, and a tiny girl proudly held up a daisy crown she'd apparently made specifically for him.
From where you stood, you couldn't help smiling. Watching these big tough men disappear beneath a mountain of children, watching how naturally they laughed with them.
How gentle they became and how easily they lowered themselves to tiny eye level.
The older woman who had spoken to them earlier wandered over beside you, folding her arms with quiet satisfaction. "They're good men."
You smiled, "They are."
She glanced between you and the three pirates before giving you an amused little nudge with her elbow.
"They'll make wonderful fathers someday."Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops as you turn to look at her in shock before looking back at them.
You looked back toward them: Luffy had a child balanced on each shoulder while Sanji was carefully bandaging a scraped knee as though it were the most important task in the world.
Zoro was pretending to be annoyed while allowing three little girls to braid flowers into his hair, and your smile softened.
"Yeah."
You hadn't realized all three of them heard you, still trying to get used to the enhanced skills that they've had finely tuned from all their days younger, filled with adventure. And none of them could stop imagining what that future might look like—with you standing at the center of it.
So was it really any surprise that later that day found you receiving the best fucking of your life. At least, so far.
“Fuck—you’re mine,” he growls, voice scraped raw, each word punctuated by a deep, deliberate thrust that steals your breath. His hips roll against yours, slow and possessive, like he’s memorizing the way you take him, the way your body clenches around him like it never wants to let go.
Your thighs tremble, locking around his waist, pulling him deeper, and when you tighten around him, his breath hitches, a broken sound tearing from his throat. “So goddamn perfect—look at you, taking every inch like you were made for me.”
His pace slows, but the intensity doesn’t. Each thrust is a promise, a slow drag that makes your back arch, your nails raking down his spine. His fingers twist in your hair, tilting your head back so he can watch your face as he fills you.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with need but laced with something softer—worship. “Just like that. Let me feel you.” His free hand slides between your bodies, thumb pressing against your clit, circling in time with his thrusts, and you whimper, your body coiling tight around him.
“Sanji,” you gasp, your voice breaking. “Please—please—I want it. I want you.” Your nails dig into his shoulders, your hips lifting to meet his, desperate for more.
He groans, his forehead dropping to yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You want me to fill you up, sweetheart? Want me to give you everything?”
“Yes,” you breathe, your voice trembling. “Give me a baby. Give me ours.”
His thrusts stutter, his rhythm faltering as he buries himself deep, his body shuddering against yours. He stills, his cock pulsing inside you, and you can feel every throb, every hot spill of him. His breath is ragged, his lips brushing your temple, your cheek, your jaw, like he can’t decide where to kiss you first. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for trusting me with this. With you.”
Your hands cradle his face, thumbs tracing the sharp lines of his cheekbones, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch. “You’re going to be the best dad,” you murmur, your voice soft but steady. “The kind who stays up all night with a sick kid, who builds forts out of blankets, who kisses scraped knees and tells the best bedtime stories.”
His eyes glisten, and you lean in, capturing his lips in a slow, deep kiss, tasting the salt of his sweat, the warmth of his breath. His hands slide down to your hips, holding you close, like he never wants to let go.
“Alright, it’s my turn.” The words rumble from Zoro’s chest, rough and deliberate, pulling your gaze past Sanji’s shoulder. There he stands, muscles coiled tight beneath inked skin, the faint sheen of sweat catching the dim light as his calloused fingers wrap around his cock, already flushed dark with need. His green eye burn into you, half-lidded but sharp, like a predator savoring the moment before the strike.
Sanji exhales against your lips, a sound caught between a sigh and a growl, before pressing one last slow kiss to your mouth. His hands slide beneath you, lifting your hips just enough that the warm spill of him doesn’t escape as he withdraws, his cock glistening in the air between you. He shifts to the side with the easy grace of a man who knows his body, and yours, too well, making room for the swordsman to step into the space he’s left.
Zoro doesn’t waste time, dragging his tip through the mess Sanji’s left behind, gathering slickness with a wet sound that makes your thighs tremble. He groans, low and guttural, as he presses forward, his grip on your waist unyielding, fingers digging into the soft flesh just above your hipbones. The stretch is different from Sanji’s—thicker, harder, the angle sharper as he sinks deeper, his breath hitching when he bottoms out.
The mattress dips beside you, and then Sanji is there, propped on one elbow, his free hand tracing idle patterns along your collarbone, your ribs, the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His touch is featherlight, a counterpoint to the relentless rhythm Zoro’s already setting, his hips snapping forward with the precision of a man who knows exactly how to unravel you.
“There we go,” Zoro purrs, voice rough with satisfaction. “Taking me just like that.”
A flush creeps up your neck, embarrassment and pleasure tangling as you bite your lip. Both men chuckle, the sound dark and knowing, and Sanji’s fingers hook under your wrists, gently prying your hands away from your face.
“Don’t hide,” Zoro murmurs, leaning down until his breath ghosts over your lips. His forearms bracket your head, careful enough to allow both you and Sanji a look at the other.
The weight of Zoro pressing you into the mattress, the heat of his skin searing through you. “I wanna see those pretty eyes roll back when I give you my brat.”
The words send a jolt through you, your cunt clenching around him without permission. Zoro’s smirk is all teeth as he feels it, his hips stuttering for just a second before he regains control. “Oh, you like that?” His voice drops to a growl, his next thrust deeper, harder, hitting that spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed. “Like hearing how I’m gonna fuck my kids into you? A little piece of me to keep when I’m gone?”
His pace quickens, each snap of his hips driving the air from your lungs. He shifts, angling himself so every thrust grinds against your clit, and you can’t help the broken sounds spilling from your lips. Over his shoulder, his gaze flicks to Sanji, whose breath hitches at his next words, his cock twitching against his thigh.
“Or maybe,” Zoro continues, voice rough with exertion, “a little blonde girl with your smile and my stubborn streak. Swirly eyebrows like his.” He jerks his chin toward Sanji, whose face flushes a deep red, his hips rocking forward involuntarily at the image. Zoro’s grin turns feral. “Yeah, you like that idea, don’t you?”
Your body betrays you, clamping down around him as pleasure coils tight in your belly. Zoro’s groan is a raw, animal sound as he fucks you through it, his thrusts turning erratic, his breath coming in sharp gasps.
“Fuck—just like that—milk me dry, sweetheart.” His hips stutter, and then he’s burying himself to the hilt, warmth flooding you as he comes with a shuddering groan, his forehead pressing against yours.
The air hung thick with the mingled scents of sweat, musk, and something sweet, clinging to the sheets like a memory. The quiet between the three of you had been a living thing, warm and heavy, until Luffy’s voice shattered it like glass. His words were rough but tender, cutting through the haze of exhaustion with the ease of a man who knew exactly what he wanted.
“Time for you guys to take a break. We have all weekend to get our family started. Let me have some alone time with our girl, okay?”
You lifted your head, your body still humming from the attention of the other two, and there he stood in the doorway; Luffy, broad and golden, his shirt discarded somewhere along the way. His pants rode low on his hips, the waistband barely clinging to the sharp V of muscle that pointed downward like an arrow. The late afternoon light spilled through the window, painting his skin in strokes of amber and shadow, highlighting the faint sheen of sweat that made him glow.
Zoro and Sanji didn’t protest. They never did when Luffy made his desires known. Instead, they pressed their final kisses into your skin—Zoro’s lips lingering on your collarbone, Sanji’s fingers tracing lazy patterns along your thigh—before they slipped out, leaving the door ajar just enough to let in a sliver of the hallway’s dim light. The room settled into a new kind of quiet, one that buzzed with anticipation.
Then Luffy was moving toward you, his steps unhurried, his gaze dark and hungry. He didn’t bother with words as he undid the last buttons of his pants, letting them slide down his legs with a whisper of fabric. His cock sprang free, already hard and glistening, a bead of precum trembling at the tip like a promise. The sight of him sent a jolt of heat straight to your core.
He climbed onto the bed, one knee sinking into the mattress as he leaned over you. Your legs parted without thought, your arms reaching for him, pulling him closer until his weight pressed you into the sheets. His skin was warm, almost feverish, and the rough callouses on his hands sent sparks skittering up your spine as he traced the curve of your hip.
“Have you been having a good time?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, like gravel underfoot. “They’ve been treating you well?”
You smiled, your fingers tangling in his hair, the strands coarse and wild between your fingers. “You know they have,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “They’d never hurt me. You’re all incredible.” A pause, then a teasing lilt crept into your tone. “But do you know what I could use?”
Luffy’s grin was slow, lazy, like a cat who’d just spotted a particularly fat mouse. “Oh, yeah?” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips; light, almost chaste, but the heat behind it was anything but. “What’s that?”
You hummed against his mouth, your breath mingling with his. Your eyes locked, the air between you charged with something electric. “Could use you,” you whispered. “You haven’t been here. Don’t you wanna gimme a kid? Start our family?”
The spark in his eyes was immediate, bright as a struck match. His grin turned feral. “Oh, is that it?” He chuckled, low and dark, before grabbing your right foot and yanking you toward him with a strength that made you gasp. The laugh that bubbled out of you was breathless, delighted, as he settled between your thighs like he belonged there.
Luffy didn’t tease or draw it out. He lined himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against you, slick and insistent. Then he pushed in, slow at first, letting you feel every inch of him as he stretched you open. The groan that tore from his throat was raw, guttural, like he’d been waiting for this moment for years.
“Hmm,” he murmured, his voice thick with something like amusement. “Seems like I’ve been gone for too long. You’ve forgotten me.” His eyes were wide, almost innocent, as he watched himself disappear inside you. “Even after all the fun Zoro and Sanji had with you before I came in.”
You arched into him, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Shouldn’t’ve left me for so long,” you managed, your voice breathy. “That’s what I’m hearing.”
Luffy’s pout was almost comical, but the heat in his gaze was anything but. “It’s okay,” he whispered, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “Once you’re pregnant, we’ll never leave you alone. Promise.” He bottomed out inside you, grinding deep, giving you a moment to adjust before pulling back just enough to thrust again. The rhythm was slow at first, deliberate, like he was savoring the way your body clung to him.
Your lips found his, the kiss messy and desperate, tongues tangling as if you could devour each other whole. The world outside the room ceased to exist. There was only this, only him, only the way he filled you so completely it bordered on pain.
Then the door creaked, two shadows hovering just outside the doorframe, intensely watching.
Neither of you noticed. Not when Luffy’s hips snapped forward, driving into you with a force that made your breath hitch. Not when his voice dropped to a growl, his words hot against your ear. “Ready to start our family?”
“Fuck,” you gasped, your fingers clawing at his shoulders, grounding yourself as he picked up speed. The bed groaned beneath you, the headboard knocking against the wall in a steady, rhythmic beat.
Luffy’s hands slid under your thighs, hiking your legs up around his arms as he repositioned you, angling himself so that every thrust sent his cock slamming against your cervix. The stretch was exquisite, the kind of pain that blurred into pleasure until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
“Gonna take you away from this island,” he panted, his voice rough with need. “Take you to the sea with me. So you and the kids get to see how incredible and large the world is. And I get to show the world the greatest treasure only me and my crew could retrieve.”
You could only whimper in response, your body trembling as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter inside you. Luffy’s words were filthy, desperate, his voice taking on a husky edge as his pace became frantic.
“And you’re gonna help my crew grow, aren’t ya? Gonna give us old people a bunch of fucking kids. Make us a big, large, happy family. Give my son a bunch of brothers and sisters, right?”
“Fuck, Lu—yes,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “Wanna give you a family. Grow our family. Fill me up and lemme give you a kid. Wanna see little Luffys and Sanjis and Zoros and—” Your words dissolved into a moan as he slammed into you harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids.
Luffy growled, his grip on your thighs tightening as he hiked your legs higher, changing the angle so that every thrust sent him deeper, harder. His breath was ragged against your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin as he fought for control.
“Fuck, thank you so much,” he groaned. “Gonna cum in deep. Keep it all in, promise?” He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his left hand coming up to brush away the stray tears that had escaped down your temples. His grin was soft, almost tender, when your gaze locked onto his.
“Don’t worry. Worked myself up good while you were busy with them. Kept denying my orgasm so you have a big load just for you.”
With that, he snapped his hips forward, his rhythm turning erratic as he chased his release. His cock swelled inside you, stretching you even further, and then he was coming with a guttural groan, his hips jerking forward with each pulse of his orgasm. The heat of him filled you, thick and endless, like he was determined to leave no part of you untouched.
As the aftershocks rippled through you both, Luffy collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His breath was hot against your neck, his lips finding the sensitive skin there as he peppered you with soft, lazy kisses. Your fingers traced idle patterns along his back, the two of you lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment.
Then came the knock.
Sanji’s voice cut through the haze, amused and warm. “Guys, we have some last-minute guests here.”
The door creaked open, just enough to reveal Sanji’s silhouette, his blue eyes dark with satisfaction as they raked over the two of you. Your flushed skin, the way Luffy’s cum was already dripping down your thighs, the tangled sheets beneath you. A slow, knowing smirk curled his lips, paired with the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. “Seems like some of the crew didn’t wanna miss this.”
a/n: teehee, meant to post this last weekend, but better late than never!
i received a request for older!law, and immediately jumped on that so be expecting that soon! as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! i love you very much, here’s a kiss from me to you 😘
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