your older boyfriend who just looveesss you so much ! you, his girl, the sweetest thing in his life— who’s quite a bit younger than him. at first, he was rather put off; but after a lot of pestering from you, he gave you a chance. and now he’s hooked.
every single date has him feeling less… stressed. you’ve got that effect, it seems— and your older boyfriend just loves it so much !! he’s so, so happy to have a cute thing like you by his side.
so, he’s always eager to treat you once you both get a moment of privacy.
and by treating you, i mean making sure that you have the best night of your life every night. your older boyfriend always starts by laying you down on the bed, gently kissing your inner thigh. he likes to buy you dresses; specifically the ones on the shorter side. because now, when he settles down on the floor, he’s got a perfect view of those lacy panties he picked out for you the other day. he wastes no time leaning in, licking a stripe up your clothes pussy. your older boyfriend is a gentleman, sure— but sometimes he can’t help himself. especially not with you laying down all cute, a leg slipping over one of his broad shoulders.
your older boyfriend makes out with your clothed cunt for a little while, a grin tugging at his lips when you whine at him to ‘hurry up’ and ‘stop teasing!’ but don’t you know, teasing you is what he does best.
even then, he doesn’t want to keep you waiting too long. so he tugs down the fabric— soaked with your juices and his saliva, the material clinging to the skin of your thighs.
yeah, he’s definitely going to have a nice, looooooonnngggggg night tonight !!
characters . . . KISHIBE (csm), garp (one piece), joseph joestar (jjba), older! oliver aiku (bllk), maybe toji (jjk), aizawa (mha), askeladd mmm’.!.!!! (vinland saga), vincent valentine bc i love him (ff7)
⋆𐙚 ̊ garp, roger, luffy and zoro x amazon lily reader! this has been proofread but if there are still mistakes, I apologise in advance! debating on whether i should write a part two that includes mihawk, shamrock and shanks! garp’s version is a fight scene where reader uses her power, and the rest of the characters are an aftermath. warnings: fighting, op men and reader are “enemies,”
🐰ྀིೀ garp.
"You've always made the dumbest decisions." Garp says as the two of you circle each other.
"Some sacrifices are in order to protect the one you care about most," You say, waving your hand in the air, the billowing cloak, and the dress you wore accentuating your figure. "And I care about my Captain, Vice Admiral Garp."
Garp grins. "You're as beautiful as ever."
"Flatter another woman." You say, attacking first.
Garp dodged it and aimed his fist in your direction. You knee him in his stomach, and with his feet to the ground, the dirt digs into the soles of his shoes as he stumbles, recovering from the attack; he tries to land a punch.
You dodge it with ease.
"That's what I'd expect from Roger's girl."
"I'm my own girl," You grin, pointing your fingers in his direction, but then moving them in the direction of his team. "Obey!"
"Shit!" Garp cursed, but he was too late.
One by one, each of the men fawned over you, begging you to order them around and happily, you oblige. You didn't need to speak or lift a finger; you turn to Garp with a grin, and with a wink all the men spiral.
One thing about Garp, however, is he agreed with you:
Some sacrifices are in order.
With ease he deflected their attacks and when you try to run, he lands a punch in your jaw; you bite back a scream. You tumble but land safely, spitting on the ground.
"Did your mother ever teach you not to hit a woman, Garpy?" You grin, and he barked out a laugh.
You hate how your heart softened at the sound.
"Don't involve that old woman of mine in this, sweetheart." Garp attacked again, but you miss it and land another hit.
Another hit after another and finally, when he was caught off guard, you point your fingers in his direction.
"Obey!"
Garp cursed again, the attack effectively hitting him, but the smirk was gone faster than it came when you noticed it didn't work. Garp was quick on registering what you were still processing and with a grin, he lands a blow. It should've been deadly but for some reason, he held back.
Then, it clicked.
You lock eyes, his face softens, and your cheeks flush.
He's in love with me?
Garp grabbed you to soften the blow and your back hits the nearest tree, his body caging you in, his entire body trembling. You place your hands to his chest, looking up at him, to find he was staring ahead.
"You crazy son of a bitch," You chuckle, and finally, he looked at you. "Who would've thought, eh?"
"Well can you blame me? You're beautiful," Garp says, wincing at the end. "You hit hard, sweetheart."
"Don't sweetheart me," You twist his nipple and he winced. You move away from him and he reached out. "You ever dreamed about being a pirate?"
"Once," Garp says. "An old fools dream."
"Well I'm living that old fools dream, Garp. I'm not abandoning Roger for anyone."
"Humph," Garp scoffed. "If you did, I'd believe something was very wrong with you."
You both laugh together. Then, silence.
"Till next time."
You manage to run away from him, find Roger and Rayleigh, and when you run in between them, they smirk.
"What?"
"What a show." Rayleigh laughed.
"Right?"
"Shut the hell up you two!" You snap, cheeks flushed, but secretly you were pleased.
Garp's in love with you. You could use that to your advantage.
For now you'll settle on running away from him.
🐰ྀིೀ roger.
"Kuja woman!" Roger barked out a laugh and you sneer in his direction, standing tall as he sat with his mates, around a fire, sharing stories and resting after a gruelling battle against your crew, the Whitebeard Pirates. "Shouldn't you be over there and not here?"
"I need to talk to you," You snap, arms crossed, and Roger looked at your chest. "Oi, perv, eyes up here!"
Roger grins.
Rayleigh chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "You don't want to deal with an angry woman, Roger. I know from experience."
"You're all dogs." You uncross your arms and saunter away from them with a sway in your hip and Roger licked his lips, grabs his hat, and chooses to indulge you.
He chased after you and tried to reach out; once you were sure you were out of earshot, you turn to face him, only to be met with his bare chest, and his hand cupping your right breast.
Your hands rest on his chest.
You look up at him. He was already staring at you. He pulled his hand back.
"Hi, pretty," Roger took his hat off and placed it on your head. "You're as beautiful as ever."
You could only stare at him.
Suddenly, your face felt very hot, and Roger laughed again.
He stopped immediately when he noticed the tears in your eyes.
"Oi," He straightened immediately and grabbed your face in his hands, completely taken aback. "Why are you crying? I didn't hurt you that badly did I? Oh wait, is it 'cause I touched your boob? That was an accident!"
"You're not slick, Roger," You whisper, taking his hands off your face. "Why me?"
His brows furrow.
"My power didn't work on you," You say. "That only happens when a man or a woman is already in love with me."
He grinned. "Oh, that's what you're crying over? Don't waste your tears on that nonsense, dearest."
"Roger." You say, voice stern, and he dragged out a sigh.
"Have you seen you?" Roger says. "My God, you're beautiful!"
"I already know that."
"Not only beautiful on the outside, but on the inside too! The way you carry yourself, fighting for what's right, man... Newgate is one lucky bastard having you around, dearest, being able to stare at your face all day. Have you ever seen how you look when you're observing the stars?"
Roger visibly flinched, got on his knees, and clutched at his heart.
Thinking that something horrible happened to him, you grab his shoulders.
He was grinning.
"I swear, I can't stop thinking about it. Your face and the stars... God, my heart hurts just thinking about it."
Your lips part. "You're drunk."
"Drunk? No. But on love?" Roger takes your hands and kissed your palms, down to your wrist, and pressed both hands to his cheek.
You crack a smile and laugh. "You're so stupid."
He grinned at his favourite sound.
Then, his head lowered, and he pressed his forehead to your chest. You look at him and your face softens. You bring your hand to his hair and brush the strands. He pressed a kiss to your heart, and brings his hand to your collarbone, and looks at you.
"Give us a kiss will ya?"
You take his hat off your head and place it back on his head.
"Keep dreaming, Roger." You say, and he grins.
"Don't worry, dearest," He cupped your face in his hands.
Rayleigh called out for him, and Whitebeard called out for you.
It was time to leave.
"I will."
🐰ྀིೀ luffy.
Luffy stood tall, his cloak billowing, eyes on you as you breathe heavily after receiving a brutal blow from him. You press your hand to your stomach and Luffy's frown deepens. He rips off his cloak and makes a move towards you.
You take a step back.
That wasn't going to stop him from reaching out to you.
Luffy had gotten done battling Kaido, and a festivity was in order. For some obscure reason, Luffy wanted to spar with you first, claiming that the last fight he had with you wasn't a fair fight, and he wanted to go again.
"That's new," Nami says to Zoro who hums in agreement. "He's never wanted to do that before."
Luffy stands before you, not smiling, not even laughing.
He was serious.
"What good does Jaggy bring you?" Luffy says, kneeling before you, and all you could do was stare at him in complete shock.
Your power didn't work on him. It worked on everyone!
"Protection." You say, watching as he ripped a piece of his cloak and wrapped it around the wound on your stomach.
"Is that it?"
"No." You whisper. Then, your jaw clenches. "I'm a Kuja, a fierce warrior of the Amazon Lily."
Finally, he smiled, and the sight of it brought you so much joy, you could've cried.
"Then what's a fierce warrior doing onboard a ship like that? You know, you should join my crew."
"Because you're in love with me?"
Luffy blinked once. Twice. Then, he laughed.
"What are you talking about?"
Your lip quirks. "You don't know?"
"Know what?"
"The only time my power doesn't work is if that person is in love with me."
Luffy blinked again. "Oh, is that so? Well, I guess I am."
"Oi, do you even know what that means?"
Luffy thought long and hard. He knew what a relationship was and what people do within it, but the love you claimed he had for you, he couldn't put a label on it. He loves his brothers, he loves Shanks, he loves Shanks' crew, he loves his Straw Hat, he loves his crew, he loves the Going Merry and he loves the Thousand Sunny but the love he has for you seems to blur between the lines of it all.
Then, he looked at you, and every feature seemed so noticeable to him, he could only gather your face in his hands to account for it.
Why did he want to spar with you?
You wanted to feel her hands on you and be closer to her.
Why was he annoyed that you stood besides Jaggy and not him?
You want her on your crew and have her close.
"I do know what it means," Luffy says, taking off his Straw Hat. He looks at it a second too long, then places it on your head. "It means I want you to own the things I own, and be with me at all times."
Luffy leans in closer, frowning, and you don't move.
Was he always this beautiful?
"It means I want you to be the Queen of the Pirates when I become King of the Pirates."
Your heart swelled with joy.
"Is that your version of loving me?"
"I guess," Luffy says. Then, he pulls back, and stands. He holds out his hand for you and you accept it. He pulled you into his chest and hugs you tightly. "Tell Jaggy you're leaving him."
You frown. "And staying where?"
"With me of course." Luffy says, but there was no need to tell Jaggy.
Eustass "Captain" Kidd heard everything. And with a grin, he shakes his head and looks at Killer.
"Should I be dramatic and tell him no?" Kidd says, and when Killer laughed, his grin widens.
🐰ྀིೀ zoro.
Zoro avoided you like you were the plague, and you could only watch him from afar as he trained alone.
Mihawk stood beside you. His silence was enough for you to know that he demanded an answer.
Still, you didn't give him one.
You had fought Zoro once when he was a Pirate Hunter and the battle was gnarly. You both left the battle with deadly wounds and now, reuniting months later at Kuraigana Island, you thought that would be the end of it, but it wasn't.
He was still hostile, treating you like you weren't above or below him, or on equal footing - you were simply a vessel to him, made to be beaten in battle, until you used your power on him.
Zoro could only stare, confused, as you stare at him in horror.
"Roronoa is in love with me." You say, and when Mihawk turned to look at you, you didn't betray your emotions by showing them to him.
Why was he in love with you? Yes you were beautiful. You came from the Amazon Lily, after all, a proud Kuja warrior - but what did Zoro see in you that you failed to notice?
As though sensing your gaze he turned to look at you, then reeled back in shock at the sight of you, and continued to train.
Mihawk had a look of displeasure on his face. He considered you and Perona his daughters. He rolled his eyes and walked away. "You deal with that then."
You scoff out a laugh. "Oh trust me, Mimi, I will."
"Call me that again and I'll expel you."
"Okay you shitty old geezer," When Mihawk glared at you in warning, you correct yourself. "Uh, shitty old vampire?"
Mihawk rolled his eyes again and walked away.
As if he accepted that? You grin, satisfied, when Mihawk opened his mouth again.
"You'll be washing the dishes."
You let out a groan and exclaim. "Seriously!?"
Mihawk smirked, said nothing, and walked off.
You watch as he left and once you knew the coast was clear, you made your way towards Zoro.
He looked up. Immediately looked away.
You take his hand in yours.
You were both flustered.
"What do you want?"
"If I said a kiss would you give me one?"
Zoro reeled back in shock. Then, at your smile, he frowned.
"You're teasing me."
"The subject is aware," You stand tall, hand on your hip. "I thought you hated me."
"I do."
"And I hate being a Kuja."
"Huh?" Zoro blinked. "Seriously? I thought you..." His voice died in his throat. He rolled his eyes. "You think I'm lying?"
"I know you're lying."
"Then try it again," Zoro snapped. "Watch, it'll work this time."
Your face softens.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Zoro says, cheeks flushed, and when you take a step closer towards him, he didn't move.
You take both of his hands in yours and stare at him.
Soon, his body relaxed, and the tension in his face melted away.
"Are you in love with me, Roronoa Zoro?" You ask him.
He was silent. His heart was racing.
"Yes."
Silence.
Then, you smile, and he found it to be the prettiest thing he has ever seen.
"I can work with that," You move to stand in a battle position. "Don't go easy on me, lover."
Zoro scoffed. "Is that your way of saying I love you too?"
When you wink at him he cracked a rare smile.
You found it to be the prettiest thing you have ever seen.
From afar Mihawk watched, as did Perona, and she giggled at the bemused look on his face.
"You don't look too happy."
Mihawk narrowed his eyes. Look forward. "She's still doing the dishes."
Perona laughed, and Mihawk went inside.
You and Zoro train under the moonlight, content with this new change between the two of you.
He’s leaning on a balcony, coat draped loose, tongue-deep with someone like he has all the time in the world. Which—technically—he does.
You arrive. You see it.
Your soulmate mark ignites, blazing gold-hot, like the sun personally took offense.
You stand there for half a second.
Then you run.
Not a dignified run. Not a strategic retreat. A full, feral, sound-barrier-threatening sprint that sends pigeons exploding into the air and civilians diving for cover.
Behind you, his voice drifts, lazy and amused. “Ooh~? That’s them? How exciting…”
You run harder.
He does not chase.
Light flashes.
You skid to a stop on a rooftop you were not on a moment ago, lungs burning, curses spilling out of you. He’s already there, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed like he just stepped out for tea.
“You’re quick,” he says, tilting his head. “That’s cute.”
You scream something unpublishable and hurl your shoe at him.
He tilts half an inch. The shoe passes through where his head was a heartbeat ago and detonates someone’s laundry line three buildings down.
“Mmm~ dangerous,” he hums, smiling wider. “I like that.”
You pivot and bolt again.
Light flashes.
He appears ahead of you again, standing sideways on a lamppost that should not be supporting a man, let alone an admiral. “You know,” he adds conversationally, “running from destiny tends to make it… brighter.”
Your mark pulses like it wants to throw hands.
You grab the second shoe and fling it. He lets it hit him this time. It phases through his chest, clatters uselessly behind him.
“…Rude,” he says mildly. Then, with a curious glance at your glowing mark, “But understandable.”
You glare, shaking with adrenaline and fury. “You were busy.”
“Was I?” He squints thoughtfully. “Ah. Right. That.”
There is, for the first time, the faintest pause in his smile. Barely there. A hairline crack.
“Well,” he drawls, stepping aside and letting the path open, “guess we should talk, huh?”
You don’t answer.
You turn and sprint again.
Behind you, light scatters across the city like laughter, and his voice follows, warm and unbothered and entirely too pleased.
“Take your time,” he calls. “I’ll catch up eventually~.”
Akainu
He’s standing in the courtyard, uniform immaculate, posture rigid, one hand gripping someone by the collar while he speaks low and brutal into their face. No kiss. No romance. Just intimidation sharpened to an art form.
Your soulmate mark detonates.
White-hot. Molten. Like magma flooding your veins.
You stop short.
He feels it.
Akainu stiffens. His grip tightens by instinct, knuckles whitening. Slowly, deliberately, he turns his head.
Your eyes meet.
His expression does not soften. Does not widen. Does not crack into surprise or delight. It hardens.
“…So,” he says, voice low, dangerous, vibrating with heat, “it’s you.”
You do not wait.
You turn and run.
Boots pounding stone, heart in your throat, every survival instinct screaming. This is not a chase you win. This is a natural disaster gaining interest.
Behind you, there is a single heavy step.
Then the sound of stone liquefying.
“RUNNING,” he snarls, magma blooming up his arm as he advances, “IS AN ADMISSION OF GUILT.”
You vault a railing. Hit the ground hard. Roll. Keep moving.
A blast of heat scorches past your shoulder, the wall beside you hissing and melting. Civilians scream. Marines scatter.
“You don’t get to appear,” his voice booms behind you, controlled fury barely leashed, “ignite a bond I never asked for, and flee like a criminal!”
You skid around a corner, lungs burning, skin prickling with heat. Your mark throbs like it’s furious at both of you.
You scream back, without slowing, “TRY NOT MAKING WAR CRIMES, AND MAYBE I’D STAY—”
A crater explodes where you were half a second ago.
“You can run,” Akainu says calmly, already following the trail of your presence like a bloodhound. “You can scream. You can hate me.”
His lips thin.
“But you are mine. And justice,” he adds, voice ironclad, “is patient.”
Somewhere ahead, you trip.
Behind you, the ground begins to glow.
Kuzan
He’s leaning against a dock piling, coat half-off, lazily kissing someone like he might fall asleep halfway through it.
Your soulmate mark freezes up.
Not hot. Arctic.
You stop. Stare. Blink once.
“…Nope.”
You turn and run. Ice cracks. You skid as the dock flash-freezes under your feet. You windmill. Recover. Keep sprinting.
“Oh, c’mon,” he sighs, footsteps crunching behind you, not rushing at all. “I didn’t know I had a soulmate yet.”
You yell back, “YOU WERE KISSING A STRANGER—”
“Yeah, well,” he says mildly, “I didn’t know I was married to destiny yet.”
You round a corner.
Ice blooms up the wall in front of you, forming a perfect ramp. You scream, run up it anyway, and vault off the edge like your life is a parkour compilation.
You land hard. Roll. Pop up.
He’s already there, sitting on a crate, elbows on knees, watching you like this is a mildly interesting documentary.
“…You’re fast,” he admits. “That’s kinda impressive.”
You grab a chunk of ice and hurl it at his head.
It shatters on his shoulder.
He blinks. “Rude.”
You bolt again.
This time, he doesn’t freeze the ground. He just calls after you, voice lazy and amused, “Y’know, runnin’ isn’t a first response to this.”
You trip as your own feet go numb.
You feel hands catch you before you hit the ground. Solid. Warm, somehow, despite the cold.
Not subtle flirting. Not tasteful flirting. Full-on, unhinged, nature-documentary flirting. He’s leaning far too close to someone under a blooming tree he definitely summoned himself, petals drifting dramatically, hand braced against the trunk like he rehearsed this in a mirror.
The other person is giggling. Vines are involved. There is pollen. It’s a crime scene.
You step into the clearing.
Your soulmate mark goes off like an environmental disaster warning.
Green Bull freezes mid-line. Slowly turns his head.
You stop. Stare. “…Oh absolutely the fuck not.”
You run.
Like, immediately. No commentary. No confrontation. Just turn and go, crashing through brush and undergrowth like you’re being chased by fate, bad decisions, and a very aggressive ecosystem.
Behind you: “Huh? Oh—OH! WAIT!”
The ground moves.
Roots burst out of the dirt, trying to grab your ankles like the earth itself has opinions. You shriek, leap, keep sprinting.
“HEY!” Green Bull shouts, jogging after you way too cheerfully. “I DIDN’T KNOW YOU EXISTED YET—!”
You scream again, pivot, vault over a log, nearly faceplant, and recover through pure spite. A vine snaps at your wrist. You slap it away. “TELL IT TO YOUR GARDEN DATE—!”
“THAT WAS CASUAL!” he yells. “VERY CASUAL!”
You duck into an alley.
Leaves explode from the walls. Flowers bloom mid-brick. A tree grows sideways to block you.
You skid to a halt.
He pops out of the greenery, hands on his hips, beaming like this is the best day of his life. “Wow. You’re fast. I like that.”
You grab a potted plant and throw it at his head.
It roots itself in his coat instead.
He laughs. “Okay, okay! Violent and hot. Noted.”
You turn to run again.
Garp
He’s kissing someone.
Sloppy. Loud. Zero finesse. The kind of kiss that involves laughter, crumbs, and a hand still clutching a turkey leg like it might try to escape. Marines are pretending not to see it. One has turned fully around to face the wall.
You walk into the mess hall.
Your soulmate mark goes Galaxy Impact.
You freeze. He freezes mid-kiss, lips still on someone else’s face, eyes drifting to you like a battleship slowly changing course. You make eye contact.
There is a full second of silence.
Then you turn and run.
“EH?!” Garp bellows, finally letting go of the other person, who stumbles back in confusion. “WAIT—HEY—!”
You are already gone, sprinting down the corridor like the building is on fire and you started it.
“WHY’RE YOU RUNNIN’—?!” he shouts, immediately giving chase, boots pounding, still chewing. “IF YOU’RE MY SOULMATE YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE—!”
“That was a PUBLIC KISS—!” you scream back.
He laughs, delighted. “HAHA! YEAH! WASN’T IT GREAT?!”
A wall explodes behind you.
“WHOOPS!” Garp yells cheerfully. “TURNED TOO HARD!”
Marines scatter. Someone dives. Someone salutes out of reflex. You vault crates, skid on spilled gravy, and nearly die of cardio. You glance back. He’s still coming. Grinning. Fist cocked. Having the time of his life.
“C’MON!” he yells. “YOU RUN LIKE KUZAN WHEN HE OWES ME MONEY!”
You burst out of the exit and vanish. Minutes later, Garp finally stops, hands on his knees, laughing until he wheezes.
“…Man,” he says proudly. “She’s got spirit.”
Back in the mess hall, the person he kissed blinks at the wreckage. “…Was that your girlfriend?”
Garp grins. “Probably.”
Smoker
He’s kissing someone like it’s a bad habit he’s trying to quit.
No romance. No flair. Just a rough, impatient kiss that says this was a mistake halfway through, but I’m committing out of spite. His coat’s still on. His cigars are still lit. Ash is absolutely falling on someone.
You walk into the alley. Your soulmate mark flares like it just saw a crime and took it personally.
You freeze.
Smoker freezes mid-kiss. One eye cracks open. Then both. He sees you. Sees the glow. “…You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
You turn and run.
“HEY—WAIT—!” he snaps, shoving the other person gently but urgently away. “DAMMIT—!”
Smoke explodes behind you as he launches after you, boots pounding, jaw clenched, clearly already done with this entire destiny thing.
“THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE—!” he yells.
You shout back, “YOU WERE ACTIVELY CHEATING YOU SHITTY SENTIENT LUNG CANCER—!”
“That’s MEDICINAL,” he roars. “AND I DIDN’T KNOW YOU EXISTED YET—!”
You cut through a market. He turns into smoke and reappears ahead of you. You skid to a stop, flip him off, and bolt the other direction.
“DON’T DO THAT,” he growls, reforming behind you. “I’M TRYING TO APOLOGIZE.”
“You had TONGUE INVOLVED,” you yell. “That’s not step one.”
He groans like a man aged ten years in ten seconds. “I HAVEN’T BEEN ON A DATE IN A DECADE—!”
You leap over a crate. He turns into smoke again. Reforms. Trips. Catches himself. Loses a cigar.
“…DAMMIT.”
You finally disappear into a crowd.
Smoker stops, hands on his hips, smoke curling irritably around him. He drags a hand down his face, exhales hard, and mutters, “Great. My soulmate hates me.”
Someone nearby clears their throat. “Should we… arrest her?”
Smoker glares. “Touch her, and I’ll arrest you.”
Beat.
“…And cancel my lunch.”
Lucci
He’s kissing someone like it’s an assignment.
Precise. Controlled. Zero emotion. The kind of kiss that feels like it came with a checklist and a deadline. His posture is perfect. His hand placement is efficient. Hattori the pigeon is there, watching like a supervisor.
You step into the corridor.
Your soulmate mark breaks cover.
Lucci’s does too. He pauses mid-kiss. Does not pull away. Just… stops. Slowly turns his head while still touching someone else’s face.
You make eye contact. There is a long, terrible second where the universe waits to see who will commit first.
You turn and run.
Lucci releases the other person immediately, already moving. No shouting. No chasing noises. Just the sound of very fast footsteps gaining on you.
“Stop,” he says calmly, like this is a work-related request.
You sprint harder.
The hallway ahead fractures as he Geppos past you and lands cleanly in your path, coat barely stirring. He straightens his cuffs.
“You are inefficient,” he says mildly.
You scream and pivot. He appears again. Closer.
“This will not change the outcome.”
You throw a chair at him. He catches it. Sets it down. Steps forward.
Behind him, Hattori flaps. “Lucci~”
“Quiet,” Lucci says.
You bolt again.
He sighs. Just once. A man inconvenienced by destiny.
“I was unaware of the bond,” he says evenly, matching your pace without looking strained. “Corrective action will be taken.”
“That is the WORST POSSIBLE WAY TO PHRASE THAT—!” you yell.
He cuts in front of you again, finally blocking your escape. Close now. Too close. Eyes sharp, assessing, unreadable.
“…You run well,” he says after a beat. “Acceptable.”
You stare at him, panting. “I am not accepting anything.”
Hattori nods solemnly. “Coo.”
Lucci’s mouth twitches. Barely. Almost imaginary.
“Then we will renegotiate later,” he says, stepping aside and letting you flee again.
He watches you go, hands in pockets, expression thoughtful.
“…Troublesome,” he murmurs.
Hattori tilts his head. “Coo?”
Lucci turns away. “Prepare for pursuit. And a wedding.”
Spandam
He’s sloppily kissing some poor intern against a file cabinet when you walk into CP-5 headquarters.
Sloppy. Loud. Overconfident. Funkfreed is there, facing the wall like he’s respecting a minute of silence.
Your soulmate mark about vomits, but politely lights up instead.
So does his.
You stare.
He notices the glow, looks down, then back up at you. His eyes go wide. His face splits into a grin so manic it should be classified as a biohazard.
“I HAVE A SOULMATE—?!”
You run.
Like, an Olympic qualifier run. You nearly tear a hamstring, but you commit.
“AND THEY’RE HOT?!” Spandam screams, shoving the intern away and immediately tripping over his own feet. “WAIT—COME BACK—GET THEM—!”
Every agent in the building suddenly activates like it’s a fire drill written by idiots.
You don’t stop.
You kick one agent into a vending machine. It eats him. You break a window and swan dive out of the building with the grace of someone who refuses to die here.
Behind you, Spandam is shrieking into a Den Den Mushi while Funkfreed tries to help by honking encouragingly.
“SEAL THE EXITS! NO—THE OTHER EXITS! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY EXITS—?!”
You vanish.
Two weeks later, a Den Den Mushi rings.
You answered by mistake.
It’s Spandam, sweaty, beaming, holding a ring that looks stolen from a gift shop. “I’VE BEEN THINKING,” he says proudly. “AND BY THINKING I MEAN OBSESSING. WILL YOU—”
You hang up.
You change your number. You change cities. You change outfits mid-stride like a fugitive in a montage.
Somewhere in a government building, your name is on a watchlist titled “DO NOT LET THEM GET AWAY AGAIN.”
You get away again.
Spandam tells everyone it’s a “slow burn romance.”
It is not.
Koby
He’s trying to kiss someone.
That’s the keyword: trying.
It’s awkward. Polite. The kind of kiss where both parties are apologizing with their eyes. His hands are hovering like he’s afraid of committing a felony. Someone nearby is whispering encouragement, like this is a school play.
You walk past the training yard.
Your soulmate mark lights up.
So does his.
Koby freezes mid-lean. Full system reboot. His eyes widen. He looks at his wrist. Looks at you. Looks back at his wrist.
“O–OH.”
You make eye contact.
You run.
“Oh no—WAIT—PLEASE WAIT—!” Koby yelps, immediately shoving himself backward so hard he trips over his own feet. “I DIDN’T KNOW—! I SWEAR I DIDN’T KNOW—!”
You sprint. He scrambles after you, tripping, apologizing to everyone he passes.
“I’M REALLY SORRY—TO YOU—AND ALSO TO HER—AND TO JUSTICE—!”
You vault a fence.
He stops at the fence, panics, then very carefully climbs it like a normal, non-parkour-enabled human being.
“PLEASE DON’T THINK I’M A BAD PERSON—!” he shouts as you disappear. “I WAS JUST TRYING TO PRACTICE BEING CONFIDENT—!”
You are gone.
Ten minutes later, Koby is sitting on the ground, red-faced, soulmark still glowing, holding his head.
Garp strolls by, chewing something. “Soulmate?”
Koby nods miserably. “I think I scared them…”
Garp laughs so hard he nearly chokes. “HAHAHA! GOOD! THAT MEANS YOU LIKE ‘EM!”
Koby stares into the distance, doomed. “…I have to become stronger, don’t I?”
Somewhere far away, you sneeze.
He apologizes out loud.
X-Drake
He’s kissing someone like it’s an obligation.
Awkward. Stiff. The kind of kiss that happens because he didn’t know how to say no fast enough. His hand is hovering two inches away from their back like touching would violate a code somewhere.
You walk into the plaza.
Your soulmate mark lights up.
So does his.
Drake freezes mid-kiss. Entire body locks up like a malfunctioning robot. He slowly pulls back, looks at his wrist, then at you.
“…Oh.”
You do not stay for explanations.
You turn and run.
“WAIT—!” he blurts, immediately shoving the other person away, far too carefully. “THIS IS NOT—!”
You’re already gone.
He visibly panics, which is impressive because he usually panics internally. He takes off after you, boots pounding, knocking over a crate, apologizing to it on reflex.
“I DIDN’T KNOW—! I THOUGHT SOULMATES WERE A MYTH—!”
You sprint through the market. He follows, very tall, very stressed, absolutely not built for stealth. People scatter.
“PLEASE SLOW DOWN—!” he yells. “I AM NOT CHASING YOU FOR ROMANTIC REASONS—!”
“YOU ARE THE WORST—!” you shout back.
He trips. Catches himself. Trips again. Almost transforms out of panic. Does not, because that would be unprofessional. You vault a railing and vanish into an alley. Drake skids to a halt, bent over, hands on his knees, soulmark glowing accusingly.
“…This is bad,” he mutters.
Two hours later, he files an internal report titled: UNEXPECTED SOULMATE CONTACT: SUBJECT FLED. STATUS: EXTREMELY FAST.
He stares at it, sighs, then adds: NOTE: SUBJECT THREW A FRUIT AT MY HEAD. DESERVED.
Somewhere far away, you feel a chill.
Drake adjusts his coat.
“…I will find her,” he says grimly.
He will undoubtedly try. Success is not guaranteed.
Bogard
He’s kissing someone quietly.
No spectacle. No crowd. Just a dim corridor in Marineford, one hand braced on the wall, the other at someone’s waist, precise and restrained like even this has rules. His hat is still on. Of course it is.
You turn the corner.
Your soulmate mark lights up.
So does his.
Bogard pauses mid-kiss.
Not startled, not flustered. He simply… stops. Slowly pulls back, eyes flicking to the glow on his wrist. Then to you.
You make eye contact.
You immediately turn and run.
Footsteps echo behind you. Not loud. Not rushed. Measured. Unavoidable.
You sprint anyway.
“Stop,” Bogard says calmly, voice carrying without effort.
You do not stop.
A shadow passes over you. You skid to a halt just in time to not run face-first into his coat as he steps into your path, sword still sheathed, posture immaculate.
“You run fast,” he observes. Neutral. Informational.
You fake left.
He shifts one step and blocks you again.
You groan. “Are you teleporting?”
“No,” he says. “You are predictable.”
You throw a clipboard at him. He catches it without looking. Hands it back to a stunned marine who didn’t realize they dropped it.
“Apologies,” Bogard says to the marine, then back to you, “This will take a moment.”
“I do not consent to this conversation,” you snap, pivoting and bolting again. This time, he lets you go.
You get ten steps.
Then his coat flicks past you, and suddenly he’s there again, walking beside you like this is a patrol.
“You made a good attempt,” he says mildly. “But let’s be adults about this.”
You dive through a side door, slam it shut, and barricade it.
Silence.
Five seconds pass.
Then Bogard knocks. Once. Polite.
“You left your shoe,” he says through the door.
You look down.
Damn it.
By the time you escape through a window, scale two walls, and vanish into the city, Bogard is standing back in the corridor, hands behind his back, soulmark glowing faintly.
Monkey D. Garp and his controversially young girlfriend
Synopsis: Garp gets a new secretary — what he doesn’t know is that he’s about to catch feelings for her.
Pairing: Garp x Fem!Reader
Content warning: Age gap (reader it’s between 25—35), power imbalance, questionable relationship, vaginal sex, canon violence, unprotected sex, nicknames (mainly love, good girl), fingering, face-sitting, a bit of dry humping, size kink, manhandling, fluff, protective Garp, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation (the man punches ships as training, of course he’s a relentless beast), doggy style, missionary, cowgirl, mating press, blowjob (plus moaning and whining), Garp tries his best to be a gentleman, mentions of reader’s evil situationship.
Author’s note: English is not my first language.
I’m aware of how incredibly questionable this is, but you know, sometimes a girl just needs to write about Monkey D. Garp in a very Lana Del Rey way.
She was his new secretary, a young woman who threw herself into her work with relentless diligence.
Their first meeting was intimidating as hell for her. Everyone in the Marine base warned her that Vice Admiral Garp was a walking hurricane— too intense, too disorganized, and a nightmare to manage. His paperwork was a legend of chaos, having driven off a string of secretaries before her. Therefore, she walked into his office that first day, knees practically knocking, clutching her files like a lifeline.
Garp was a mountain of a man, tall, broad, and radiating a presence that could make even seasoned Marines sweat. Old as he was, he still moved like he could punch through a battleship and not even break a sweat, his grin equal parts charming and terrifying.
Her first week was a disaster of epic proportions. Every night, she dragged herself home feeling like she’d been trampled by a Sea King. After her first day, she actually cried on the way back, tears streaking down as she wondered if she’d made a huge mistake.
But she was stubborn, so she kept showing up, pushing through the chaos until she started to wrangle it, and Garp, into something manageable.
Garp was a lot, but once she figured out how to tame him, it was smooth sailing. She had his office running like a well-oiled ship, papers filed, desk spotless, reports actually on time for once.
Even Fleet Admiral Sengoku was floored when he stepped into Garp’s office and found it organized, beetle-clean, with reports stacked neatly. “What the hell? Since when are you this… tidy?” Sengoku asked, gaping, words failing him.
Garp jerked a thumb at his secretary, who was quietly filling out reports on the latest pirate skirmish. “See that one over there? She’s my new secretary,” he said, grinning like a proud kid showing off a new toy.
“What’d she do to whip you into shape?” Sengoku asked, genuinely baffled.
“She brought me tarts, promised more if I followed her system,” Garp said, leaning back in his chair. “Did it once, twice, then nothing, and I don’t get why, because I’ve kept this place cleaner than a Marine parade deck!”
Sengoku saw through it in a heartbeat, the secretary was playing him like a fiddle, using a reward system to keep the old man in line. The sly little thing had Garp wrapped around her finger, and he hadn’t even noticed.
“You really haven’t figured out what she’s doing to you, have you?” Sengoku said, smirking.
“What!?” Garp barked, confused as hell.
“Of course you haven’t, you’re not exactly the sharpest sword in the armory,” Sengoku said, shaking his head.
“Hey!” Garp roared, slamming a fist on his desk, making papers flutter.
Sengoku’s words got under Garp’s skin. He started pestering his secretary, trying to figure out what the hell Sengoku meant.
At first, it was just curiosity, but soon he found himself enjoying her company, doing his chores just to see her smile— tarts be damned.
She would still bring tarts every now and then. To thank her, he’d leave rice crackers on her desk with goofy notes, scrawled with crude drawings of his fist or that ridiculous dog hat he loved. She kept every single one, tucked away in a drawer, a secret collection of his dumb, heartfelt gestures.
Truth be told, she was crushing hard. After surviving those brutal first weeks and taming the beast that was Garp, she started seeing him for who he was, a loud, joke-cracking, larger-than-life man who’d bring her food, insisting she “eat up to keep up with him,” or plop down in front of her desk to ramble about some wild adventure from his past. His stories, half-exaggerated and full of cackling laughter, were oddly comforting, a steady anchor in her messy life.
Outside the Marine base, her world was a wreck. Her love life was a disaster, tangled in a toxic situationship with a younger Marine under Garp’s command. The guy was all sweet talk and empty promises, he’d blow her off, flirt with barmaids right in front of her, and, worst of all, the sex was barely worth the effort. Yet he kept worming his way back into her life, and she, naive and hopeful, kept giving him chances, each one draining her a little more.
Garp noticed one day, she looked like a wilted cabbage, all droopy and sad. He wasn’t one to let that slide, so he bided his time, waiting for the right moment. During lunch, he cornered her on the way to the cafeteria, his massive frame blocking her path.
“Let me treat you,” he said, grinning, the perfect excuse to sate his nosy streak.
She nodded, too tired to argue, and followed him.
The conversation was awkward at first, Garp dancing around the real issue like a rookie avoiding a fight. Finally, he got fed up and went straight for it. “What’s with that face? You look like you’ve been wrestling pirates in your sleep.”
“Just some personal stuff, that’s all,” she said, cheeks burning, mortified to be venting to Vice Admiral Garp of all people.
“I see,” Garp said, leaning forward, elbows on the table. “Spill it.”
“Sir, I don’t want to burden you with my nonsense…” she said, staring at her plate.
“Nonsense!” Garp slammed a fist on the table, making heads turn and cutlery rattle. “I need to know what’s distracting my secretary… since that will mess up with your work!”
It was the flimsiest excuse in the world, but it worked. She sighed, giving in. “My love life’s a mess,” she admitted, cringing at how pathetic it sounded.
Garp leaned in, suddenly all ears, though a weird pang hit his chest.
Was she taken?
He hadn’t realized how much he cared about the answer, and it threw him off, he was her boss, old enough to be her grandpa, for seas’ sake. “What’s the problem?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual. “Spit it out, or I’ll have you doing push-ups until you’re crying.”
“I’ve been seeing this Marine,” she said, and Garp’s gut twisted, alarms blaring at the thought of some punk claiming her heart. “He’s… unreliable. I don’t think he even likes me, he just likes having me around.”
“What a scumbag,” Garp growled, leaning back. “What’s his name?”
She hesitated, then mumbled the name, barely audible.
“No way!” Garp barked a laugh, loud enough to startle half the cafeteria. “That wimp? He’s a lazy slacker, always cutting corners!”
Relief washed over him, mixed with pity for her. That punk didn’t deserve her, and Garp was already plotting ways to make his life hell. Extra chores, grueling training sessions, maybe a few “accidental” punches during drills, all in the name of character-building, of course.
His secretary deserved a real man, not some sniveling boy playing games.
And, though the words stayed unspoken, even in his own head, Garp knew deep down he wanted to be the man she deserved.
He’d treat her right, showing her what a real man could do. Despite his age, Garp could outshine those young, clueless Marines who probably didn’t know a woman’s body from a ship’s rigging. He’d bet his fist that wimpy Marine never made her cum, and he’d die on that hill, cackling all the way.
Weeks passed, and his secretary seemed to be holding it together, her calm demeanor unshaken, at least during work hours.
On Friday afternoon, she left the base looking fine, or so Garp thought, until that night in the village market.
He was having a blast, chowing down at a food stall, chugging sake, laughing so loud the vendor’s stand shook. “Is this seat taken?” a voice called from behind, and when Garp turned, he nearly choked on his drink.
His secretary stood there, in a dress that made her look ethereal, every inch of her screaming perfection. At the base, she dressed like a grandma, all prim and proper, hiding under layers of professionalism. But now? Garp’s jaw damn near hit the table, his eyes raking over her before he caught himself.
“Of course not, grab a seat!” he said, grinning, trying to play it cool.
But when he met her eyes, he saw the redness, the telltale signs of tears. His grin faded. “What happened?” he asked, voice gruff but soft.
“Got stood up, again,” she said, shrugging. “At this point, I shouldn’t even care.”
“Sounds like you need a drink,” the bartender chimed in, sliding a glass her way.
“Or a lobotomy,” she muttered, barely audible.
Garp caught it and barked a laugh, though his chest tightened. “Aye, crying over that wimp? I’ll make sure he’s bawling through next week’s drills, mark my words.”
She chuckled, but it was heavy, laced with sadness. “No need, sir.”
“Call me Garp,” he said, waving off the formalities, his tone warm but firm.
From there, it was like tumbling down a hill with no brakes. They talked, laughed, drank, and before he knew it, Garp was walking her home, the night air cool against their skin. As she turned to go inside, she paused, looking him dead in the eyes. “You know, Garp, I wouldn’t mind an older man,” she said, then slipped inside, leaving him stunned.
Her words burned into his brain, playing on repeat for weeks.
Was she serious?
The way she’d looked at him, all intense and unflinching, it had to mean something. Or maybe she’d been tipsy, those drinks loosening her tongue. She acted like it never happened, all business as usual, leaving Garp wondering if he’d imagined it. But it felt too real, too raw to be some alcohol-fueled fantasy.
It messed with him, turned the mighty Vice Admiral Garp into a fumbling, flustered mess. She noticed, of course, the way he stumbled through conversations and the faint flush on his cheeks.
It was bizarre, seeing the Hero of the Marines so off-kilter.
She hadn’t meant to throw him that hard.
Sure, she’d said it to test the waters, maybe a bit buzzed, but now she was the confused one. Was he into it, or was he uncomfortable? She couldn’t read him, so she let it drop, focusing on work.
One night, buried in paperwork long after hours, Garp loomed over her desk, frowning. “Why’re you still here?”
“I’m—” she started, but he cut her off.
“No, you’re not. Pack up, I’m walking you home,” he declared, leaving no room for argument.
She sighed, knowing better than to fight the old man’s stubbornness. She tidied her desk, and they walked through the quiet base, Garp filling the silence with his usual loud tales of past battles and dumb recruits.
At her door, he hesitated, tense, like he was wrestling with something.
“Everything okay?” she asked, tilting her head.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said that night,” Garp said, scratching the back of his neck, awkward as a rookie. “The older man thing.”
Her heart skipped, but she kept her cool. “You have?” she asked, voice steady, waiting.
“Yeah,” he said, meeting her eyes. “Did you… mean me?”
“Depends,” she said, cryptic, guarding herself in case she’d misread him.
“Depends on what?” Garp asked, brow furrowing, confusion written all over his face.
“On your feelings,” she said.
“My feelings are damn right!” Garp roared, all rowdy confidence, his grin wide enough to light up the night.
Well, that was unexpected.
She nodded slowly, pulse racing and not knowing how to proceed. “Do you want to come upstairs?”
“HELL NO!” Garp bellowed, startling her. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. This Friday, I’m taking you out properly, like a real man should!”
She blinked, caught off guard but charmed by his fire.
It was a far cry from that crusty, wimpy Marine, and she was already looking forward to it.
Friday crawled by like a ship stuck in the Calm Belt, but Garp was a damn saint in the meantime, going out of his way to be considerate with her.
He even left a single wildflower on her desk, a scruffy little thing that screamed he’d picked it himself.
Cute, for a man who could punch a hole through a battleship.
On Friday, she went all out, slipping into her prettiest dress— a soft, flowing number that made her feel confident. Garp showed up looking like a million beli, his fancy suit somehow making his massive frame even more imposing, yet weirdly dashing, and his dog hat swapped for a rare, slicked-back look.
The man even brought her flowers, a messy bouquet that looked like he’d strong-armed a florist into giving him the best they had.
Truth be told, Garp was dense as a cannonball when it came to romance, but for her, he’d dusted off every scrap of gentlemanly know-how he could muster, determined to prove an old-timer like him deserved a shot.
They sat in a cozy restaurant, the kind of place that felt too refined for a guy like Garp, but he made it work somehow.
“I still gotta figure out what to do with…” she said, trailing off, poking at her food.
“That wimp?” Garp asked, leaning forward.
“Yeah,” she said, sighing.
“I could always beat the ever-loving snot outta that scrawny punk,” Garp said. “The kid’s gonna keep pestering you even when I drag you out for a meal, I’ll make him regret it.”
“Yeah…” she said, glancing down. “Still, that’s completely off the table, Garp.”
“That little twerp needs a proper thrashing to know his place,” Garp shrugged, as if he wasn’t talking about beating the living shit out of one of his subordinates. “Can’t let him mess with women, especially not when he looks like a twig I could snap with one finger!”
She deadpanned, fighting a smirk. “Right.”
“So, what’s your big plan, huh?” he asked, one bushy eyebrow shooting up.
“I’ll talk to him,” she said, calm but firm.
“I could talk to him too, you know, with a fist to the face,” Garp said, letting out a bellowing laugh that shook the whole damn restaurant, heads whipping around to stare. “I bet that’d teach the brat some manners!”
“Once again, totally uncalled for,” she said, rolling her eyes, though ahe found it amusing.
The dinner was a lively back-and-forth, hopping from one topic to another, always playful, even when the conversation brushed against her deadbeat Marine ex. They had a blast, Garp’s loud stories and her quick-witted jabs bouncing off each other like a sparring match.
Garp walked her home, as expected.
He lingered at her door, shuffling awkwardly, clearly set on not going upstairs. “I should get going,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Or you could just come upstairs,” she said, shrugging, her tone teasing but deliberate.
“Wouldn’t be gentlemanly or whatever,” Garp said, his attempt at chivalry sounding hilariously out of place.
Still he was trying, bless him, but it was awkward as hell.
“Does that mean you’d disrespect my honor if you came up?” she asked, tilting her head, a sly smile playing on her lips.
“Yeah, I think so.” He said.
“But what if I want my honor disrespected?” she countered, her voice low, eyes locked on his with a boldness that made his brain short-circuit.
A long pause followed, long enough for her to turn and saunter upstairs, leaving the door wide open. “You better come, Vice Admiral, that’s an order,” she called from inside, her voice dripping with challenge.
Garp stood there, frozen, his heart pounding like a war drum.
Oh, screw it.
He stormed inside, his heavy boots thumping like cannon fire as he followed her up the stairs.
Garp was quick, catching her just as she hit the last step, scooping her up like she weighed less than a sack of rice, making her yelp. Her keys clattered to the floor, but neither gave a damn right then. After the playful jumpscare, he set her down, and—when she was bending to grab the keys—planted a kiss on her lips. The sheer force pinned her against the door, his massive frame caging her as he deepened the kiss, all hunger and heat.
She was stunned, to put it mildly.
The man was a beast. In seconds, he had her knees buckling, his lips moving with a skill that screamed Monkey D. Garp—hungry, rough and kinda playful.
His hands were everywhere—gentleman act be damned—groping her breasts through her dress, squeezing hard enough to rip a moan from her throat. His fingers slid to her neck, guiding her head so he could attack her throat, sucking a hickey without a shred of shame. Then, out of nowhere, he bit her, teeth sinking in just enough to leave a mark, sending a jolt straight to her core, her panties soaked in an instant.
She was dizzy, Garp’s body pressed tight against hers, his erection—intimidating as the man himself—grinding into her through his pants.
“Guess we should get inside,” he said, pulling back from the kiss, his grin pure mischief.
She needed a second to catch her breath, panting. “Y…yeah.”
She turned, fumbling with the keys, nerves and Garp’s overwhelming presence making her hands shake. To make it worse, he gave her ass a generous squeeze, smirking as she braced her palm against the door to steady herself from his intensity.
“Whoops, can’t help it,” he said, not an ounce of guilt in his voice.
Thankfully, she got the door open, because the second the lock clicked, Garp was back on her neck, pressing his hard-on against her ass—cheeky bastard letting her know he was ready to wreck her.
What happened next in her apartment was a blur. One moment she was stumbling inside, the next she was shoved against the nearest wall, knickknacks on a nearby table crashing to the floor as Garp humped her—yeah, humped, like some wild animal rediscovering his youth. What could he say? The old dog was feeling spry again. And she wasn’t complaining, half because she was too caught up in the heat, half because she was already a mess, moaning and melting under him.
At some point, her dress came off, probably lost somewhere in the kitchen. When Garp’s hunger kicked into overdrive, he pulled his mouth from her breast with a loud pop and rumbled, “Where’s your room, love?”
He made sense of her incoherent directions—her apartment wasn’t exactly a maze—and carried her there, not breaking the kiss once, pausing only to pin her against another wall for the hell of it.
Once he lowered her onto the bed, he hesitated, towering over her, his usual cocky grin softening. “You sure about this, girl?”
“More than sure,” she said, breathless and hazy.
That was all he needed.
He crawled over her, letting out a booming laugh—because of course the bastard was laughing—and locked eyes with her, brushing hair from her face, cupping her cheek. Then he dove in for the filthiest, most sinful kiss yet, all tongue and clashing teeth, a hint of biting, a string of saliva connecting their mouths as he pulled back. It was knee-buckling, sparks shooting down her spine, her body melting against his, his broad shoulders and tree-trunk arms caging her completely.
The man was ravenous.
His hands roamed, squeezing her thighs and hips so hard his fingers left red marks. “I’m gonna show you what a real man can do,” he growled, voice thick with lust.
Her eyes widened, his words sending shivers through her.
“Bet that wimpy ex never made you cum,” he said, fingers creeping dangerously close to her cunt.
“N…no, he didn’t,” she admitted, face burning with shame.
Garp hummed, smug as hell. “Too bad for that punk. No way he’s getting you back after I’m through with you…”
What the hell did that mean?
He didn’t leave her wondering long. His fingers went to work, rough but skilled, his thumb pressing her clit with just enough force as he circled it. When she started squirming, he slid two thick digits inside, his other hand pinning her down, splayed across her lower belly. “How many rounds do you think you can take, love?”
“What?” she gasped, completely out of it.
“How many?” he pressed, grinning like a shark.
“I… don’t know,” she said, naive and about to learn why he was asking.
He kept a steady rhythm, driving her wild, until he curled his fingers just right, and her eyes went wide, a moan ripping from her throat as her back arched. Garp was having the time of his life, watching his usually composed secretary fall apart under his hands. She was teetering on the edge, legs shaking, breath ragged, her walls clenching around his fingers. Feeling generous, he pushed her over, shaking her to her core.
“That’s one,” he grunted, pulling his fingers free. “Now, open up, love.” She did, dazed, and he stuffed his fingers in her mouth. “Suck ‘em clean.” She hesitated, then obeyed, putting on a little show as she sucked, earning a low hum from him.
“Aren’t you a good girl?” he cooed, eyes dark with hunger.
Garp was still half-dressed, shirt unbuttoned, jacket long gone. He started stripping, peeling off his clothes as she watched, her pupils dilating, biting her lip. It hit him like a cannonball—being desired at his age, when he thought his spark had faded years ago. “Like what you see?” he teased, fishing for her reaction.
She blushed, looking away. “Well, yeah… you’re, uh, like a wall of muscle.”
What a shitty compliment, she wanted to die.
Garp’s laugh shook the room, his ego swelling. “Hah! Feeding my pride, eh, love?”
He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on her lips before flipping her onto her stomach with ease, like she weighed nothing. Still laughing, he manhandled her into all fours, her shocked gasp only fueling his grin.
She hadn’t expected this skill from a man his age.
Her mind flashed to something Fleet Admiral Sengoku once said, about Garp and Aokiji using ships as punching bags, the old man’s stamina endless, relentless. Now, she wondered if he’d bring that same intensity to her. After his “how many rounds” question, she wasn’t sure she could handle more than one or two, not when her ex couldn’t even manage one.
His fingers traced her spine, then he kissed the back of her neck, positioning himself behind her, his cock thick and heavy, pressing against her entrance.
“Garp…”
“Ready for me?”
She nodded, a bit panicked. “Could you, uh, go gentle at first, please?”
That cracked him up, a full-belly laugh that rattled the walls. “Hah! Gentle, she says! Don’t worry, love, I’ll ease you into it—gonna feel damn good, I swear.” He tilted her chin to kiss her lips before starting.
He thrust in slowly, letting her feel every inch, his size stretching her to her limits, overwhelming until she adjusted.
He started in doggy style, on his knees, hands gripping her hips, pounding into her with a rhythm that had her clutching the sheets. When he sensed her nearing the edge, he yanked her upright by the hair—not rough, but a firm tug near the roots, the slight pain sharp and exquisite. Her back pressed against his broad chest, his arms like steel bands around her, one hand splayed across her stomach to hold her steady, the other wrapping gently around her neck—not squeezing, just keeping her in place.
“Feel how deep I am, girl?” Garp whispered in her ear, voice husky, thrusts shifting upward, hitting spots that made stars burst behind her eyes.
She was a mess, only upright because he held her.
His hand slid down, finding her clit, circling it as he fucked her, pushing her to the edge again. Tears streamed down her cheeks, soft cries of overwhelming pleasure escaping. She came a second time, clenching around him, but he kept going, not even sweating, manhandling her through the aftershocks, tearing another orgasm from her.
He flipped her onto her back, not giving her a second to breathe, trapping her mouth with his lips again.
Garp wasn’t slowing down—could probably go all damn night.
“Tired yet?” he teased between kisses.
“N…no,” she lied, panting.
“Can’t keep up with an old dog like me?” he grinned, smug as hell.
She covered her face with her arm, gasping as he gave her a moment to catch her breath.
“Forget how to talk, love?” he chuckled, tickling her palm. “Or nobody has ever fucked you this good?”
“I… uh…” she stammered, breathless.
“Not fair you’re tapped out when I’m not even done,” he teased.
“You haven’t!?” She glanced down, shocked to see his cock still hard, resting against her thigh.
“Forgot you’re used to weaklings,” he said, smirking. “Guess I’ll have to train you, like one of my recruits.”
He kissed along her forearm, playful but hungry.
“Alright, Vice Admiral,” she muttered, half-mocking, too hazy to land the sarcasm.
Garp’s grin widened, and he got back to work.
By the fifth, she was gone—fucked out, brain mush, legs trembling uncontrollably as he pulled another orgasm from her, his kisses softening but no less intense, his stamina as stubborn as a battleship.
He could’ve kept going, cock still hard inside her, but he finally let himself finish, groaning low as he spilled deep, filling her with a heat that left her boneless.
Garp wanted to keep going, but one look at her fucked-out state told him she’d had enough for now.
“Easy there, love,” Garp murmured, voice softening as he pulled out, gathering her trembling form against his chest.
He was surprisingly gentle in aftercare, grabbing a warm cloth from the bathroom, his massive hands careful now, massaging her shaky legs until the tremors faded. He tucked her into bed, holding her close, muttering gruff praises like, “You did good, girl,” until her hazy mind drifted off, safe in his arms.
It was the best sex she’d ever had.
And the afterglow? Pure, mindless peace—no trace of feeling used or uneasy, just complete contentment.
The next morning, Garp stayed true to his word, treating her like a damn queen. He stomped around her kitchen, whipping up a massive breakfast of half-charred eggs, barking, “Eat up, gotta get your strength back after last night!”
She complied, still foggy from the night before, body sore but thrumming with satisfaction, as he slapped the eggs onto plates with a grin wider than when he’d sunk a pirate fleet. He’d even scratched a shitty smiling face into the eggs with a fork—ugly as hell, but the effort made her heart skip.
After, he scooped her up, brushing off her protests with a laugh, and carried her to a bath he’d drawn, his massive frame crowding the tub, turning it into a cozy den. “Now, let me handle this, love,” he rumbled, his rough hands washing her hair with surprising care, calloused fingers gentle, savoring the quiet.
If she could’ve melted into a puddle of goo, she would’ve, right there in his arms.
The man had studied the gentleman’s handbook (Garp’s version) and hell if it wasn’t charming as hell.
They ended up on the sofa, her reading aloud from an adventure novel, her voice rising with excitement over tales of pirates and treasure. Garp sprawled out, head in her lap, eyes half-closed, content like he hadn’t been in decades, his calloused hand tracing lazy circles on her thigh. “Keep reading, love,” he grumbled. “I like hearing your voice.”
After that night, Garp and his secretary settled into a relationship, kept as quiet as she could manage, her insistence on discretion clashing with his don’t-give-a-damn attitude. She was dead-set on avoiding gossip, knowing Marine Headquarters would buzz like a hornet’s nest if word spread she was bedding the Monkey D. Garp.
Garp, true to form, didn’t care who knew—he’d have bellowed it from the top of the tallest mast, arms crossed, laughing like a madman if she hadn’t shut him down.
Still, he respected her wishes, keeping his hands off in public, though his eyes lingered too long, a cocky grin tugging at his lips— like he was daring someone to call him out.
She was happier than she’d been in years, her life smoother than a calm sea, thanks to Garp.
He wasn’t perfect—a stubborn, bull-headed bastard who’d rather punch a problem than think it through—but she’d learned how to wrangle him. A sharp glare or a well-timed rice cracker could steer him straight, and he’d laugh, booming, “You’re scarier than a Sea King!” as he fell in line.
They were domestic in their own way, savoring quiet moments—her reading adventure novels while he lounged on her couch or him cooking massive, messy meals of charred fish and rice while she baked a couple of tarts.
The sex was mind-blowing, a clash of Garp’s overwhelming strength and her eager surrender.
His massive frame dwarfed her, his broad, scarred chest and thick arms making her feel tiny as he manhandled her into whatever position struck his fancy.
Doggy style was his go-to, loving how deep he could go, growling like a beast as he gripped her hips, doing whatever the hell he wanted with her body— her moans only spurring him on. He also loved pinning her down in a mating press, legs folded back, or spooning her when they were feeling lazy, his cock still relentless even in slower moments. The man got creative, switching positions like a battle strategy, making the most of the night with his endless stamina.
Cowgirl was rarer, but when she got bold—once they’d grown comfortable—she’d take charge. She wasn’t strong, but she was smart, knowing exactly how to bring the Hero of the Marines to his knees, whining and begging like a lovesick recruit for a whole damn hour. The first time she climbed on top, pinning him with a half-confused, half-sly grin, Garp’s eyes lit up like she’d challenged him to a brawl. She was out of her depth but had the spirit, and Garp ate it up, cheering, “That’s it, love, show me what you got!” He lost his mind, letting her work her hips until he was the one groaning and cursing, completely at her mercy.
She learned something about herself—she loved a vocal man, and from then on, she’d do anything to hear Garp’s rough, desperate sounds.
Her best trick? Her blowjobs. They sent him to another damn dimension, his fists clutching the sheets like he was holding on during a storm, muttering, “Fucking hell, girl,” as she worked him over. She got so good at it, chasing those sweet sounds, that he’d have to stop her, panting, “Enough, love, I’m not lasting with that mouth!”—a rare defeat for a man like him.
And Garp? He matched her fire. If she was thorough going down on him, he was a beast in return, a pussy destroyer—and yeah, he’d proudly called himself that a couple of times.
Foreplay wasn’t his forte—too impatient, pounding her like a man possessed—but he made up for it, eating her out like it was a whole damn banquet. Face-sitting was his favorite, caged between her thighs, grinning like an idiot, licking his lips in anticipation. “Garp, I’m gonna suffo—” she’d start.
“Nonsense!” he’d bark, her hovering over his face, mid-conversation in the weirdest damn position. “Sit down, girl! My face is your throne—only weaklings dodge a woman’s pleasure!”
“But…” It was a lost cause.
“I’d die happy between these thighs, love! I take down pirate fleets, damn it, I can handle this!” He wanted that cookie, bad. “So sit!”
She sighed, giving in, still not putting her full weight down until his massive hands yanked her into place. From there, she was done for, his stubborn ass spending hours with that relentless tongue, leaving her a trembling, soaking mess.
She’d try to push him off, rarely succeeding, but damn if she didn’t try.
Outside their private world, she carried herself with newfound confidence, her days free of her ex’s pathetic bullshit.
But that wimpy Marine, true to his spineless nature, came crawling back one day, cornering her outside the base with his slimy sweet talk, begging for another chance.
Her voice was all politeness, but her eyes were ice-cold, done with his nonsense. “We’re done. You never gave a damn about me, so save it.”
He didn’t take the hint, stepping closer, his tone turning whiny, manipulative. “Come on, you know you miss me,” he said, grabbing her arm. She yanked away, but before she could say anything else, a shadow loomed—Garp, massive and pissed, filling the corridor like a goddamn battleship.
He’d heard every word, grabbing the punk by the back of his uniform, hoisting him up like a wet mop. The Marine dangled, legs kicking, face pale as Garp’s grin turned feral. “Are you bothering my secretary, little shit?” he growled, voice low, the kind that’d make any Emperor of the Sea piss themselves.
She panicked, heart racing, not wanting a scene. “Garp, put him down.”
Garp ignored her, shaking the Marine like a disobedient puppy. “Listen up, you sniveling brat. Come near her again, and I’ll make you scrub barnacles off the ocean floor until your hands bleed!” His grip tightened, making the punk whimper. Garp dropped him, letting him scurry off like a cockroach, never to bother her again.
She turned on Garp, exasperated but secretly relieved. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, hands on her hips.
“Had to make sure the bastard got the message,” Garp said, shrugging, his grin pure mischief.
She sighed. “Pretty childish, Vice Admiral.”
“Childish? Hah!” he boomed, proving her point. “That’s how you handle punks!”
Can u do another baby monkey? Like milestones of her growing up with them? Like how would they take care of her when shes keeping them up all night with her crying and if u can show a couple of times where they almost kill her all her milestones growing up with them if possible
Monkey’s Milestones ft ASL and Garp
Pt 1
A/N here we go! Had to get some guidance from Hannah and a few of my friends since I ‘m only a early childhood teacher and can just see milestones through that perspective so I ask some moms for input! That being said; normally I would @/ hannahbarberra162 but i got a mission for you guys I was hoping to ask you guys for a secret favor; go to her page and send her an ask telling her how amazing she is! She’s incredibly talented and beautiful human being so go tell her but 🤫
Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in Japanese to ensure the enjoyment of both reader and oc character readers!
Consider Leaving me a Coffee : )
"Luffy? Ace? Sabo?" Makino questioned as she opened the door to her cabin, still dressed in her nightwear. Voice slightly raised to be heard over the wailing cries of the baby Luffy was carrying on his arms.
"What are you boys doing here so early?" she mumbled worriedly, attempting to look at the crying baby and the boys over for any signs of injury. However, the sun had yet to come out, denying the world light at such an early hour.
"Dokucha is dying!" Luffy sobbed
"What?!" She exclaimed, immediately picking up the small bundle while ushering the boys inside. Within the light of the small cabin she could finally have a clear view of the four children, worry growing as she took the state the boys have been in, dark circles decorated their eyes and their overall appeareance was alarming; it reminded her of when the boys would return to the Mountain bandits after a day of jumping and fighting wild beasts.
"She's been crying since yesterday and hasn't stopped," Sabo added, a grave tone in his voice.
Makino frowned, shifting her attention from the boys to the small girl in her hands. She noticed small protruding formations, and her relief was palpable as she threw the three boys a smile.
"She's not dying, she's just teething."
"Teething?" Ace questioned. He was not sure of the meaning of the word, but by the reaction the young woman was exhibiting, it seemed it was nothing to worry about, and so for the first time in days, he allowed himself to relax.
"Mmhm, it's perfectly normal for babies to start teething; it means her teeth are coming out," she easily explained as she began to rub Dokucha's Gums.
The infant blinked owlishly at the feeling, pausing her wailing before finally relaxing as Makino rubbed the sore tissue.
"She stopped crying!" Sabo marveled
"She just needed us to ...rub her?" Ace asked incredulously
"It can help soothe the pain from teething, but you can try a few other things. You can give her some things to bite, and apply some cold cloth to her jaw area to help soothe the pain," Makino replied
"So she's not going to die?" Ace asked relieved, receiving a soft giggle from Makino
"No, it's a natural process; we can only try to help her with the pain until the teething stage is over. That being said, how about you three get some sleep?" she asked, frowning at their exhausted state; it seemed that they could not or refused to get any sleep when her sister was in that state.
"We need to take care of Dokucha," Ace hissed.
"Don't worry about her, I will watch her until you guys wake up, okay? Go get some rest, you guys deserve it."
"Thank you, Makino!" Luffy exclaimed, skipping to the bed without being told twice, and the other two followed hesitantly after him.
Makino smiled at the boys, looking down at the girl.
"Those boys really care about you, you're going to grow with some incredible big brothers," Makino giggled as Dokucha babbled to her in return.
“Umm, guys, she’s not drinking her milk,” Sabo mumbled as he continued to try to inch the sucker to the infant’s mouth, frowning as she continued moving her head away with small whines.
“What are you talking about, Sabo? Just push it into her mouth,” Ace called dismissively as he continued looking over their plans for their next heist, with Luffy absently munching on an array of fruits he had gathered.
“I ‘m telling you she’s not taking it!” He snapped back as he finally gave up and put the milk down, looking at the fussy 8-month-old with a scowl, only to wince and jump into action as he saw her lip beginning to tremble.
“H-hey! No, No Dokucha!” he called, fumbling to distract the child to avoid what he knew would be coming next. However, he knew it was meaningless when she went from sniffling to wailing in a span of seconds.
Startled by the sudden noise, Ace and Luffy’s attention snapped to the baby!
“What’s wrong with her!?” Ace yelled, trying to be heard above the girl’s howling and shrieking
“I think she’s hungry, but she won’t take her milk!” Sabo screamed back, hands over his ears.
“What are we supposed to give her then? That's the only thing she eats!” The ravenette snapped back
“Maybe she wants some fruit!” Luffy cut in as he extended an apple to the baby
“You idiot, she can’t eat that!” Ace scowled.
“Huh, Why?”
“She has no teeth!”
“Yeah huh! She has two teeth right there!” Luffy hollered, pointing to the wailing child’s mouth and the two lone teeth on the bottom of her mouth.
“She only has two! You will kill her!”
“Wait, Ace, maybe that's what she needs!”Sabo cut in, taking hold of the apple.
“Are you serious, Sabo?! She will choke!”
“Yes! That's why I will mash it up,” Sabo explained as he placed the apple on a bowl-like stone and began grinding it down with a different rock. When he was satisfied with the result, he approached the crying child and offered her the mashed apples.
As soon as she felt the unknown food being offered, she instantly closed her mouth around it. She took a moment to chew and savor the new food before cooing and reaching for more, which Sabo happily obliged.
“It worked!” Sabo cheered, both he and Ace letting out relieved sighs as Luffy cheered.
Two months had passed since they had successfully introduced food to Dokucha. In the course of those months, she had graduated from not only eating mashed foods but also carefully chopped and even shredded foods, which included, to Luffy’s elation, shredded meat. However, that soon turned into disappointment when the baby showed no particular excitement towards the food. However, she agreed with Ace’s choice of favorite food when she showed favoritism towards the Cherry pie he had acquired in a nearby town; something the oldest would always hold over Luffy. But it was around that two-month mark that she showed another critical milestone.
“Crocodile meat is so yummy!” Luffy exclaimed as he continued to stuff his face with said food
“Ueeeh,” Dokucha babbled, trying to get the boys' attention.Seemingly no longer satisfied with the attention Magra was offering her.
“Oi, Luffy! Give me some of that! Ace scowled, reaching for some of the side dishes the youngest was hoarding.
Dokucha let out a whine, even resorting to banging the small pipe. The three boys had gotten her in order to match their own weapons, but despite the loud banging and whining, the brothers continued their hunger-driven discussion.
“Oi, you two, leave some for me!!” Sabo growled, pushing his way in between the two boys, causing a small squabble between the trio.
Finally fed up, Dokucha let out a small huff, putting her palms on the ground and pushing herself up, leaning on Magra as she stumbled. Once satisfied she could hold herself, she continued to use Magra for support as she took a step forward, and another, and another; eventually switching to Dogra and then Dadan, who sat next to Magra frozen at what they were seeing, as she slowly but surely made her way to the three boys.
Eventually, she managed to make it to the table and behind the squabbling children. Leaning, holding on to the table bench, she raised her pipe, winding it and bringing it down, straight into Ace’s head. The sound of the impact reverberated around the room, causing the room’s noise to halt as everyone turned around to the source.
“Ace!” Sabo cried as Ace slumped to the ground holding his head, slowly glancing at the culprit, his eyes widening along with his brothers as they realized what had just taken place.
“Dokucha?” He mumbled in a pained voice
“She can walk!!” Luffy cheered, jumping up and down in glee, with Sabo still gaping beside him.
“We’ve been trying to get you to walk for weeks, and when you do it, that's the first thing you do?!” Ace growled as he jumped once again. He had also been ecstatic and shocked by her first steps, along with his younger brothers. However, the oldest brother seemed more preoccupied by another first-time occurrence.
“Bah-gah! Eeei!” Dokucha snapped back, waving the pipe around in Ace’s direction
“You little-
“Ah! Wait, ace, she’s still a baby!” Sabo exclaimed, jumping to hold back his brother as he and the youngest engaged in a heated but nonsensical exchange of words
A few weeks had passed, with no particular progress. However, she had been improving her balance more and more with each passing day, especially since the three brothers religiously practiced the skill with Dokucha until she eventually managed to walk on her own without face-planting the floor.
Something that Garp found out on one of his regular checkups: After Luffy had excitedly told her about his feat, he just had to see his granddaughter stand on her feet by her own strength. And see he did, as not only was he witness to Dokucha's walking, but his arrival had excited her to the point that he saw an exciting stunt: running.
The four were relaxing in a small but stunning clearing not far from their treehouse, and Luffy excitedly showcased his latest find to the girl.
"Look, Dokucha! It's a Dandelion!" Luffy exclaimed, gaining the toddler's attention. He made his way closer to him and observed the object with wonder. Watching this, Luffy Grinned and blew it, hitting the baby's face.
Dokucha let out a barrage of giggles, clapping her chubby hands at the soft, ticklish feeling the seeds caused on her body.
Elated at their grandpa's sudden arrival, Dokucha could not help but put her training into action as she willed her legs to approach the man. However, it seemed they did not take her to him as fast as she wanted to, as she soon broke into a clumsy but speedy run, stumbling into the man's hands, whose expression visibly lit up at the event.
"Bwahahaha! There you go, little monkey!" He boomed happily as he raised her up in the sky, his grin growing as she began laughing and reaching for him. Not one to deny his granddaughter, he pulled her to him in a firm but gentle Hug. The girl awkwardly returned the gesture, her chubby arms not reaching very far, resulting in her putting her hands on his chest more than hugging him
It wasn't until another of Garp's impromptu visits three months later that Dokucha would showcase her next memorable feat; when the sight of Dokucha running around more steadfast than in his previous visit had driven him to proudly exclaim that such growth was the beginning of the birth of a legendary marine. It was this statement that would become the catalyst.
"No Way! She won't be a marine!" Ace scowled once he had finished her statement.
"Yeah! She will be a pirate just like Shanks!" Luffy cut in
Wisely, Sabo remained silent and took to watching over the girl who sat on the ground happily playing with the dirt beneath her.
"Like Hell I will let you influence her with Red-Haired stupid Ideologies!"
"Hey! Shanks is not stupid! I will be a pirate just like Shanks!
"Shanks!" Dokucha Cheered, and for the second time in her life, this toddler, barely a year old, had managed to cause the world around her to pause in silence.
"D-Did she just-" Ace stuttered, gaping at the baby girl who clapped gleefully at the word.
"No way..." Sabo muttered
Looking shocked, Luffy stared at the girl before a grin began growing on his face!
"Shishishi, That's right, Dokucha! Shanks!" Luffy cheered, elated that his sister's very first words just happened to be those of his idol.
Garp continued to stare at the girl, aghast, and blood drained from his face. His brain could not decide which emotion to showcase, as fear, anger, sadness, and happiness all scrambled in his mind like a slot machine. He snapped out of this existential crisis when he felt a small soft touch. Looking down, he saw that the toddler had made his way to him without him noticing.
Noticing the conflicted emotions on her grandfather's face and unable to fully understand it, she looked up at him with worry.
The three brothers watched with bated breath as they awaited the older man's reaction. Eventually, the man huffed and grabbed the girl, holding her up with a broad, slightly strained grin on his face.
"Breaking your Papaw's Heart this early, huh?"
Dokucha tilted her head at the words, unable to discern the forced expression on her face and mistaking it for genuine happiness. She giggled and tried to reach for him.
"Papaw!!" she cheered.
His jaw dropped, and he stared at his granddaughter once again. The three young boys watched, stunned, as tears began to sprout from the marine as the biggest grin they had ever seen on the man took place.
"That's right, Dokucha...I'm your Papaw!" He cried hugging her tightly
How much do they last in bed? One piece DILFS editions
Benn beckman -
i hope you were up for a long ride when you accepted to have sex with him. Perfect man benn beckman can go on for HOURS, im talking like, you can't literally walk, your muscles will be so weak you probably will beg for him to just end with no other round after
Time: 3 hours 💀 more if it's his birthday cause he gotta release all the stress from 1 year of shanks
Silvers rayleigh-
I don't see him having too long sex, but it's very intense, extremely. You two move a LOT, it's like doing a full workout
Time: 35 to 65 minutes
Scopper gaban-
Lord have MERCY, than man will be everywhere at the same time, you can't keep up at all, probably can't even see what he's doing after a bit. Your head is so fucked up, you probably would register your mouth being fucked only after MINUTES. So much stimulation it's CRAZY
Time : 1 hour to 1,5 hours (time perceived 3 days)
Gol d roger -
... Good luck. I may end this here but you have to know that you will suffer. Like gaban he's so intense, your body is bent in a strange way as he just continue to fuck you until you feel that his dick moved your organs 💔, you'll feel it against your throat when he's clearly fucking your ass.. it's obviously not THAT long but he fuck like he wants to be entirely inside you😭
Time : no one ever recorderd that but garp probably (perceived time: infinite)
Shanks-
ngl he's so fun and chill as well as intense, you can keep track of the time for the first 15 minutes than he make you cum for like 25 times and you don't even know who you are after. He would do that with that DAMN smirk "oh cmon love, already tired? i know you can give me one more" STAY AWAY YOU IRISH CUNT
Time: 45 minutes to 1,5 hours
This is for you @worstgenerationloser
Buggy -
buggy is so weak. Weak and pathetic. Even more pathetic than ace's virgin ass. He is already dripping pre-cum by the time you're talking to him, he. probably have to take deep breaths when you ask him to fuck. By the time you got him naked he was about to came 4 times, and as you put it in he would just roll his lips against yours and fill you up💔
Time : 25 seconds to 3 minutes (perceived 15 seconds)
Garp-
OH OH OH OH OH😲, oh no. ohhhhhhhhh, pray for yourself. You did this to you. remember. He is so rough and deep. as much as Roger. HE NAME HIS FUCKING CUM SHOTS. "Oh... fuck... Galaxy.. impact!" and he cums. he is so rude and strangely gentle at the same time, smirking like an idiot just like Roger would. "i wasn't too rough was i, doll?" and he moved your organs ao much your mouth is now your ass hole.
Zeff had his encounters with you; he provides you with delicious sweets, and you don't kill him or his crew...
Kraken!Y/n*Coming upon Zeff late at night in your swim across the sea*-Ah Zeff~...what an unwelcome surprise and you brought me a my squid liver How thoughtful~
Zeff: Your beauty is your strength, and I submit to it-TAKE ME-it make me know what it is like to be with a true beast of the sea...there is nothing in this world but your power...IN ME THE ONLY MAN WHO CAN SEE IT-
Kraken!Y/n*Taken back and looking at him weirdly, jumps as he actually gets on his knees*...
Zeff: LET ME WORSHIP AT YOUR ALTAR*holding your finger in his hands* LET ME KNOW THE PLEASURE OF REAL TASTE OF THE SEA
Kraken!Y/n*Lookin around right and left to see if anyone is there...then grabs him by his body in your hand to your height of your face *...IM GONNA TIRE YOU OUT BRAVE COOK~...BREAK YOU UPON MY WHEEL~
Part 2 of
💬 1 🔁 22 ❤️ 395 · OP Incorrect quotes#67 Ballsy sea men · Giant Kraken Mermaid/Triton Monster Y/n, The number one star ruler of all the s
t͟a͟g͟s͟: oneshot, garp x yn, prime garp x reader, fluff, comedy(?) intended nsfw (no graphic descriptions), navy training and a marine who happens to love very loudly.
enjoy !
Love was chaos.
And Monkey D. Garp?
He was chaos. The very embodiment of it.
You were a newcoming marine. A rookie, nothing more. You were happily recruited, you simply did your job. Smiled politely, bowed to superiours when necessary, filed paperwork, the daily training drills. You were simple, efficient and professional. Got the routine work done and left.
And then, there was Garp.
The vice admiral you only heard about on newspapers and lunch talk after a fight. You barely saw him around. Marineford HQ was quite big, and you worked on the opposite side, under Admiral Kuzan. But each time you passed by him, for some reason, it always felt like you were being deliberately watched.
It all started with a small act of kindness, rice crackers.
You made the horrible mistake of buying your own, enjoying them at the gates of marine HQ. And god, was he watching and drooling at the mouth like a maniac.
So naturally, being the ever so kind soul you are. You gave him the remnants with a smile.
"Help yourself, vice-admiral, you work hard, too."
Terrible mistake. Because that day would be marked as the rice cracker incident among his co-workers. And Garp would soon start being everywhere you went. At a comfortable distance. Not invasive, or weird.
Just there.
Watching. And so very inlove.
And sometimes, he'd do simple gestures when you weren't around, just to show, that he's here, and thankful. The first signed note on your desk that said "Thank you for the crackers." And another one that read: "You're doing great", sometimes a coffee, warm, not too sweet, the way you liked it. (Don't ask how he knows.) And you smiled at each one of them in appreciation.
Because even with his overly confident demeanor and cocky self, he simply could not bring himself to directly approach you, he knew himself too well to know that he'd do something reckless and embarass himself. But you were very well aware, you always noticed his presence, the way his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary whenever you passed with your friends, smile blinding his eyes like sunshine.
You were the only topic of conversation coming from his mouth. He'd grip the spot on his chest where his heart is, very dramatically so, as he spoke of you.
"She's inlove with me."
Tsuru pinched the bridge of her nose, "She gave you rice crackers."
"Exactly! She's flirting with me through strategically planned rice crackers." He affirmed, ever so sure of himself.
Sengoku sighed, feeding him more rice crackers to shut him up. "You're inlove with her, not the other way around. Rice crackers aren't a romantic advance."
"They are.. to me."
And you? You weren't exactly oblivious, but you thought to yourself, he's.. a vice admiral. And you were simply, well, yourself. There's nothing going on, just him being nice and motivating.. to you only.
You never spoke much, beside the occasional polite smile as you passed by eachother in the hallways. You couldn't deny one thing. He was.. oddly charming. He smiled, big and wide in the way that made you reciprocate it, even despite yourself.
He walked with an air of confidence you admired, cracked jokes that had you chuckling from a distance. But he was also serious when times called for it, trained like there's no tommorow, and despite how silly he seemed, he was just doing his job.
No conversation sparked between the two of you.
Until one morning, you were doing your running laps in training drill. Deep breath in, deep breath out.
And unbeknowst to you, he showed up, running alongside you like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You didn't notice, not until he comically cleared his throat.
You didn't stop running, simply turning your head to face him.
Blinked once,
Twice.
"Vice admiral Garp??? Wh—" You stuttered, eyes slightly wide, your pace never slowing. And then he was gone. You tried to brush it off, striding again,
Until he showed up once more. He just finished another lap, before everyone else.
"To your left."
You looked again.
"Hey. Humid morning, isn't it? How're you doing?" Garp smiled, ever so naturally.
You blinked again. "I'm— sweating like a popsicle at a summer barbecue, that's not the question here. How did you get here??"
"Sweetheart, I'm a Vice Admiral, I can go wherever I damn please." He laughed,
"You're just making the others feel inferiour."
"I'm motivating them to be better, that's different." He spoke, running comfortably at your pace now. Lips parted to speak again, but was interrupted by a shout.
Your captain, Togo.
"What did I say about chit chat during training? Hmm?" He walked up to the both of you, arms crossed. "And.. what are you doing here, Vice Admiral?" He continued.
You slowed your running pace progressively until you stopped infront of Togo.
"I could ask you the same question, sir." You sighed, looking at Garp from the side of your eye as he stood there, ever the so innocent face.
"I don't care who it is you're talking to, you know the rules." Your captain continued.
"I'm sorry, sir, I—"
"Don't," Garp cut you off, stepping between you and him, arms crossed. "It's my fault, I started it." He defended, voice firm and unyielding.
Togo looked back and forth between the two of you, a raised eyebrow.
"..Is that so? Then I guess you both share the same punishment. You'll stay behind and clean the training ground." He said, not like a request, or an order. It was just statement, leaving no room for argument.
"Seriously??" You grunted in irritation, shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Do you want me to double down?"
"..No, sir."
"Good, I expect proper work next time."
You slumped to the floor, hands on your head in defeat.
Garp stood beside you, giving you a small pat on the head. In a feeble attempt to make you feel better.
The training was long over now, others retreated, until the training ground was fully empty, leaving only you and Garp together. Standing across from you, watching with a guilty expression on his face. Because when he finally built the courage to talk to you, it just had to end like this.
But on the bright side, he had an excuse to spend time with you.
As you reached for a heavy piece of equipment, he pounced in dramatically, grabbing it first.
"Nuh-uh, I've got this, princess." Garp smiled, throwing it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. "Don't overwork yourself, I'm here to help, alright?"
You stood upright, matching his posture. "You didn't have to stay, y'know."
"Nonsense, you wouldn't be here if I didn't barge in— I'm sorry." He placed the crate aside, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. This is the first time you've heard a vice admiral apologizing to a lower ranking marine. Especially Garp in the flesh. "Might aswell make it up to you." For someone who always seemed so sure of himself, he was quite humble.
"I'm not mad at you, atleast I'm not alone, otherwise this would take forever." You waved your hands dismissively, letting out a lighthearted chuckle, focusing on your own cleaning duty.
He laughed back while still taking care of his own work, mainly the heavy boxes and crates, piling them aside. "This isn't how I imagined our first hangout but, atleast I'm spending time with you."
Garp said that. He admitted to wanting to be with you, and so, very nonchalantly too.
"Uh-huh, so.. this was just an excuse to spend time with me."
"Hey— Not that I did it on purpose, but yeah. Who else is gonna put up with my endless appetites?" He joked, taking another box from your hands casually, fingers brushing against yours faintly, a gentle whisper.
"Oh right, the rice crackers." You laughed, recalling the "incident" and how his face lit up at the sight of them. "You owe me, then."
Garp stepped infront of you, arms crossed, a grin plastered on his face like a bad decision.. he was definitely thinking of something.
"Say.. we're gonna be stuck here for like— Hours? Let's make things.. interesting." His voice dropped an octave, leaning closer to you.
"Hmm? Do let me know."
"I say.. let's make a bet. I could finish this entire area before you do. Loser has to treat the winner to anything they want."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
There it is again. That shit eating grin of his. You could just tell there was a hidden motive here, but you played along anyway. Because what else was there to do now?
"I bet you'd just ask me for rice-crackers again or something."
"You underestimate me, sweetheart."
"Bet."
You chatted for a while longer, the laughs and jokes came naturally. He seemed embarassed at first, you couldn't tell if he was sweating from the heat, the cleaning, or your presence.
Probably the latter.
But give him some time, and Garp was surprisingly good at keeping the conversation going, almost making both of you forget the tedious work you were charged with.
He watched you work for a moment, gaze sharp and competitive, jumping into action himself. He moved with swift efficiency, lifting barrels effortlessly and taking them to their designated areas. He even stacked them to save space. Rearranging the weapons and whatnot.
As the two of you worked, Garp couldn't help but occasionally glance your way. The sight of you so focused on the task at hand was, in a way, captivating to him. The way you wiped the sweat off your face, the sunlight reflecting your features. Your every move did awful things to him.
The bet was still on, but he found himself enjoying this impromptu moment more than he expected.
Eventually, around an hour rolled by, and you were absolutely exasperated. And Garp? Garp was standing proudly, like this was just another Thursday and he hadn't just cleaned half of the training ground by himself without catching a break. He finished with just enough time to watch you still tiring yourself out.
You panted, catching your breath and wiping beams of sweat off your forehead, slicking the damp strands of hair back from your face.
"Alright, alright. I give up, you win." You raised your hands slightly in a surrendering gesture, laughing. Because despite your loss. It was awfully more entertaining than it should've been.
He promptly plopped himself beside you, sitting against a wall, elbows propped on his knees, breathing easy.
"I told ´ya I'd finish before you, sweetcheeks. That's the second time you underestimated me today." Garp grinned.
"Fine, just tell me your end of the deal already." You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance.
"Mm..—" He hummed, eyes glinting with mischief as he pretended to think about what he wanted. "—Well, I'm a simple man, really.."
"Uh-huh, and what does the simple man want?" You placed your cheek in your palm comfortably, watching him with an almost bored expression as he spoke.
Garp smirked, enjoying the anticipation. With a mock-thoughtful look, he spoke. "You see, there's this one thing I really crave, that no amount of money can buy.." He looked at you again, meeting your gaze.
You pinched the bridge of your nose.
He was dragginggg this.
"Mhmmmm.."
"It's a simple thing, really, but for some reason, it always eludes me." He paused for a moment, clearly relishing your impatience. "And now that I've won the bet, I think it's finally my chance to get what I wanted."
"Just spit it out already!" You blurted out, louder than you intended, then placed a hand on your mouth. "..Sorry."
Garp threw his head back and laughed, before leaning closer to your face, barely inches away. His breath a warm whisper on your skin.
"Don't be so impatient, sweetheart." He reached out, gently tucking a stray hair behind your ear. His fingers lingering on your cheek longer than necessary.
The sun began to set, sinking lower until it brushed the horizon. The sky slowly exhaling after a long day, just as yourself. The warm light clinging to your skin in golden layers, softening every edge, turning your eyes into shimmering pools.
Eyes that Garp was helplessly lost in, his earlier cocky grin melting into a softer expression as he took the time to focus on your features.
You glared back at him, didn't say anything, didn't dare to. But your cheeks warmed up under his fingers and your heart was doing things you couldn't quite explain.
Then, he broke the sudden silence.
"This.." Garp trailed off, leaning closer until finally closing the distance between your faces in one swift motion. His hand cradled the back of your head, fingers gently threading into your hair as his lips met yours. Firm, warm, and undeniably sure.
No hesitation.
No teasing.
Just him, pouring every bit of that loud, reckless love he felt right into the kiss. It wasn't rushed, it wasn't hungry. But it was possessive, gentle, loving.
You were definitely taken aback, eyes widening ever so slightly, your hands hovering over him hesitantly. Though it didn't take long for you to melt into the kiss, fingers resting on his shoulders comfortably.
And when he finally pulled back, just an inch. Garp rested his forehead against yours for a beat longer than necessary, before fully letting go.
"..This is what I wanted. Ever since you handed me that damn rice cracker." He finished his earlier sentence. His grin was soft now, not in the earlier cocky way— but in a real way only you'd ever seen.
You, on the other hand, were completely dumbfounded, staring at him in awe, like you just discovered your favorite song was written about him. And his gaze lingered on you. The gaze of a man who just tasted sweetness for the first time. Which, technically, he did.
"..Oh, you— I knew it!"
"Knew what?" He chuckled.
"I knew you liked me." You pointed your finger at him like an accusation, but your smile and blush dusted cheeks betrayed everything you wanted to deny.
"Aw shucks.. well, since it's already obvious, let me make it clearer." He leaned in closer once more, and gently caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your head to look at him only. "What I want.. is right here infront of me."
"..Me?"
"Who else could I want, sweetheart?" He nodded, finger still softly brushing your chin as he spoke. "You've had me wrapped around your finger for months."
You reached and placed your hand ontop of his on your chin, promptly moving it away, but not quite letting go.
"I like you too but.. what about your rank?"
Garp's eyes softened at your words, smile widening at your confession. All teeth. Hearing you say you liked him back filled his chest with warmth and only added to his affection.
"Pfft— Who taught you that nonsense??" He scoffed in mock-offense, shaking his head. His free hand moved to your shoulder comfortingly, like he was breaking down the deepest secrets of the world to you. "I'm head over heels for you, it doesn't matter if you're a few ranks lower than me. Love is love, dear."
"..You really don't care about that?" You looked at him in awe and surprise, squeezing his hand a bit tighter.
Garp hummed softly in confirmation, letting go of your hand, only to reach and wrap his arms around your back in a gentle embrace, slowly. Giving you time to pull back if needed.
You didn't. Reciprocating the hug.
"Mhm, really." He whispered, the sincerity in his voice genuine. "You have me completely smitten, sweetheart. I've seen you work, relax, laugh. And all I can say is i've loved every version of you. You're smart, beautiful.. and yet, so damn dense."
You chuckled at that last one, giving him a lighthearted punch to the back. It was odd seeing the usual silly, fierce hero of the marines.. right here, hugging you and confessing his love to you. It came so easy, yet, you couldn't wrap the thought around your head.
But it was happening, and you weren't letting it slip away from you.
"..I love you too." You admitted. It was simple, three words, just enough to let him know it was mutual.
And there he was, chin rested ontop of your head, grinning ever so wide, eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Took you long enough to say it." He chuckled, face nuzzled in your hair, his hands moving up and down your back in a soothing motion. "Good. 'Cause I'm not letting go now."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
.
.
Garp ended up walking you back to your apartment safely later on, before parting ways.
Safe to say,
You didn't sleep that night.
The next day rolled by. You rested your eyes for a total of one hour and fourty-three minutes. But somehow, you bursted with energy like no other day. Getting ready swiftly, uniform fully buttoned, but just today, you let your hair loose, and helped yourself to something new. Lipgloss. Not too red, just the perfect shade between brown and pink, subtle, but nice enough.
You looked at yourself in the mirror more than enough times before leaving, and made your way to HQ like a toddler on their first day of kindergarten. Who wonders why?
You hadn't even made it halfway past the front gates when whispers started fitting through the air like sparks. Tsuru shot you a knowing smirk while Sengoku simply adjusted his glasses like he just witnessed the inevitable.
He definitely told them already. Because of course he did.
And then, like a storm rolling in, you heard it— heard him.
"SWEETHEART !!" Garp's voice rang out, he came barreling around the corner like a freight train in uniform, cape fluttering behind him like a hero from an epic ballad. He didn't stop until he was right infront of you, towering and grinning like he'd just conquered an island. And then promptly leaned down and planted a kiss on your forehead.
You planted your face in your palms in embarassment, hair slouching down your shoulders, before looking at him, face entirely red. If word didn't get around, it definitely did now.
"Did you have to do that so loudly??" You complained with a sigh, crossing your arms. "What happened to goodmorning?"
"Good morning?? Sweetheart, I gave you a goodmorning. That's top-tier greeting protocol. Vice Admiral's Seal of Approval." He threw his head back and laughed, loud and unapologetic.
Suddenly, Tsuru rolled by with a clipboard, muttering: "Lord knows how she ended up with that one. Poor girl."
Garp shot her a mock-offended look, puffing his chest. "Hey, she's lucky!"
You only laughed, responding back. "I don't think I mind him."
He turned to face you again, and that's when he noticed it.
"So.. Seal of approval, huh?"
No response.
You raised an eyebrow, looking at him.
He was also looking. Very hard. Your lips were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
"..Garp?" You repeated, waving a hand over his face. "Earth to Garp."
And just like that, he grabbed the same hand you were waving at his face, fingers gently curled around your wrist as he led you away from everyone,
"Hey!!" You protested, he only dragged you to the nearest empty office, locking the door behind and pinning you against the door in one swift motion, hands on either side of your head, chest heaving up and down like he just ran a marathon.
"You're doing that on purpose."
You hadn't even processed what just happened. Blinking rapidly in his direction.
"Doing what on purpose??"
"That!" He pointed at your lips, fingers holding your chin up.
"Lipgloss?"
"A tactical charm offensive." Garp affirmed, voice unyielding.
You held back a laugh, snorting. " 'You serious? It's just-"
"Listen, I don't care what it is, but I know where I want it." He leaned closer, catching your chin between his fingers and lifting your head up.
"Uh-huh?"
"Smeared. On my face."
And without further ado, your lips crashed against eachother like a storm, captivating eachother in a hungry, urgent kiss. Your hands draped around his neck like silk, his own roaming on your sides, fingers pressing like they can't get close enough as he deepened the kiss with time-limited urgency and depth that said "I need this for my own sanity."
The room filled with sounds of heavy breathing, a messy, breathless kiss, pouring all the desire and love into it. Your gloss leaving stains all over his lips and cheeks.
"God, you—" Garp spoke, breathless, interrupted,
A knock on the door, then a voice chimed in from behind.
"Vice Admiral Garp, you have a meeting with Fleet Admiral Kong!" It was Bogard, his right hand man.
You both flinched in the spot, like teenagers caught sneaking out.. close enough.
Garp sighed, pulling away from you and breathing easy, you caught your breath aswell, adjusting yourself before unlocking the door, both of you exited looking like a total mess. Garp's hair tousled, face marked in kisses.
Bogard blinked, twice. Looking back and forth at both of you. Didn't say a word about your appearances.
"..Am I interrupting?" He said, quieter this time.
"No it's fi—"
"You are." Garp cut you off, before walking away from him alongside you.
"Did you hear what I said, sir?" Bogard repeated.
"Yeah, yeah." Garp didn't even flinch, just waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder, not looking back. "Tell him I'm busy securing my heart's patrol routine!"
Somewhere in the distance, Sengoku groaned, Tsuru snorted.
And god help your giddy self, you could only laugh and giggle. Throwing a light punch to his side.
"Go, idiot. Before I'm late too." You cackled.
Garp huffed in mock indignation as you pushed him back, "I've priorities." His eyes shone with warm mischief as he spoke proudly, like a man planting his flag on quicksand.
You threw another punch. "That's not an excuse." He rubbed his side like he just took a canonball to the ribs.
"Hey, hey now, no need to get violent." He protested with a laugh. "I'm going, I'm going."
He leaned down and placed yet another kiss on your forehead, feather light, but there.
"Don't overwork yourself." He spoke, voice lower now. "And don't miss me too much when I'm gone." And of course, a cocky remark.
You simply turned back and walked your own way, waving a hand from over your shoulder.
"Could say the same to you!"
He smiled, standing there for a moment, hands on his hips. Watching you stride away with that stupidly-him grin on his face. Like he'd just won a war instead of a rookie's heart.
Then, still smiling to himself, he turned and marched off to the command building.
Sengoku met him halfway. Eyebrows raised, taking his side and walking along.
"Did you just.. blow off the Fleet Admiral, for flirting?"
Garp clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"BWAHA! No, I was on official patrol duty. Secured my woman's heart. That's national security."
"A woman, huh?"
"She's not just a woman. She's a covert charmer in lipgloss."
Sengoku groaned again, but didn't even try to hide the smirk peeking at the corners of his lips. Because only his great friend Garp could show up at 0800 to spend five minutes doing— god knows what, with his lover, and then proceed to promptly show up late to a Fleet Admiral meeting like it was a birthday party.
And on the other side of the base, you smiled to yourself the whole morning during training, like a lovestruck teenager. Because you were dating a walking disaster.
But you loved said disaster.
Sometime before noon, after another harsh training morning, you sat on a bench in the barracks' locker room, a few buttons undone, enjoying a well deserved water break and wiping sweat off yourself with a towel. Wrapping a piece of cloth tight around a scraped knee.
Until, your peaceful, comfortable silence was interrupted as another rookie sauntered his way beside you with a sly grin, like he always belonged there.
He was the last person you wanted to talk to now, or, all the time, really.
"Oh.. Reginald." You sighed, burying your face in your towel for a second like it could shield you from his presence and teleport you away from him.
"Wellll, look at you." He teased, voice dripping with gossip. "Got yourself a high-class boyfriend all of a sudden?"
You didn't even give him a glance, still wiping your face with that same towel.
"Mhm. Guess word gets around, huh?"
"Sure does.." The guy propped his arm on your shoulder ever so casually, eyeing you with a mix of curiosity and.. something else you couldn't pinpoint. He spoke, leaning in conspiratorially. "Some folks think it's crazy to date a Vice Admiral as a rookie. Others say he's way out of your league, and some even say you're doing it for clout."
He grinned. "So which one are you?"
You finally turned to look at him, looking him dead in the eyes with a blank expression, then you excused yourself and stood up.
"I'm not entertaining you, piss off." You spoke, firmly.
"Ohh? That's sad, we're already placing bets on how long it'll take for him to leave you for some tavern bunny." He laughed, his friends behind chuckled aswell.
"Ha, ha. You're so funny. Get a life instead of butting on others', Reginald."
"Hey, I'm just sayin'.. High ranking dudes like that all have the same pattern going. And you don't see any other Vice Admirals around here and whatnot, going for rookies. Do you?"
You froze in place, stopping in your tracks. You couldn't think of anything to say. He opened his mouth again to speak, probably another jab, when a deep, rumbling voice cut through the silence.
"Oi."
The air dropped 10 degrees.
Garp filled the doorway, still in full uniform but coat unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up to his elbows like he'd just come out of a fight— or was about to start one. He stormed halfway across the base, eyes locked onto the guy beside you, sharp and threatning.
"You done talking to my girl?"
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. The weight of it and his presence alone made Reginald shrink back an inch. His earlier confidence crumbling to shreds.
Garp stepped forward, ignoring him completely, now completely focused on you, his gaze softening as he took sight of your wrapped knee.
"..Should've told me you got hurt." He muttered, walking towards you, an arm draped around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side, then looking at the guy again with a grin that wasn't quite friendly.
"Garp, I can handle th—"
"Shh." Garp cut you mid-sentence with a little squeeze on the shoulder. "Next time you wanna gossip, try not breathing."
The rookie nodded, fast. Unsure of where to shove his face now.
"Get lost."
He then picked himself up and left in a blink.
You sighed in relief, looking up at Garp, a slight smile crossing your face.
"You didn't have to intervene, I was handling it."
"Sit down, sweetheart." He shushed you with his finger on your lips, placing you back down on the bench again. You didn't protest.
He then kneeled beside you, ever so casually, taking your scraped knee in hand and undoing the makeshift bandage cloth you wrapped around it. Taking his own bandage roll from his coat pocket and wrapping it around the cut.
"You just keep bandage rolls in your pockets?" You chuckled.
"Plenty." Garp said, his eyes never leaving your injury.
"Why?"
"Incase a beautiful woman such as yourself gets herself in this sort of predicament." He spoke again between cutting off the bandage with his teeth, sealing it tight. "There you go, princess."
You smiled, your lips crinkling at the corners despite yourself.
"Stand up now, silly."
"Oh, right." And so he did, standing upright and dusting off his clothes, giving you a hand as leverage to stand up and wrapping his arm around your shoulder again.
"..Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
.
.
╰─..★.──────────╯
The walk back to your apartment, once again, was comfortably quiet. For once, you didn't speak much, no cocky jokes from Garp and earned chuckles from yourself, you just walked. Arms interlocked, head rested on his shoulder, until you got to the door.
You turned to face him, reluctant to let go of his hands this time.
"..Same time tommorow?" Garp gave you a lopsided, awkward smile, scratching the back of his neck like he suddenly cared about formalities.
You tilted your head slightly to the side, but didn't comment on that, just nodded.
"Mhm, of course."
And just as he turned around, you reached and grabbed his wrist again, making him turn around.
"Hm?"
"Stay over today."
Three words. One simple request, and a perfectly practiced smile.
That was all it took for Garp to fold, his heart was doing cartwheels at the thought of what that meant.
And so he stayed, making himself comfortably at home on your couch beside you. You'd seen him without a uniform for the first time, just.. naturally himself. And so did he.
"So.. What was that guy telling ya anyway?" Garp broke the awkward silence that filled the room the first few minutes of his entrance. You crossed both legs on the couch, stretching your arms out.
"Ahh, it's nothing. Y'know how they are, always trying to get to your head." You dismissed it, but deep down, Reginald's words affected you, somehow. Because part of you wanted to believe he was wrong but.. was he really?
Garp placed a hand ontop of your head, gently carding his fingers through your hair. That simple gesture alone, made half of your worries disappear into thin air.
"It wouldn't be nothing if I didn't walk in on you looking like you got slapped in the face." He ruffled your hair gently, pulling you closer to his side. "Just tell me. I'm all ears, sweetheart."
You sighed, and talked away, with each word spoken, Garp's eyes widened just barely enough to notice.
"..And you believed him? Sounds like he was just jealous." He tilted his head, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your arm.
"Of course I didn't! But I just.."
"Listen." You felt his fingers pause, a deep frown creased his brow as he thought of the right thing to say. But when he spoke, his voice was uncharacterstically tender. "I don't care who that guy is, or what he said. But I wan't you to never listen to him, ever."
"Mhm.." You nodded.
He turned you to face him fully, both hands now on your shoulders.
"If he gives you crap again, or anybody else does— remember I'm here. I'll always be."
"..Thank you." You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I'll let you know. Just.. don't scare the newcomers. Or try not to."
"No promises." His shoulders relaxed at your kiss, the tension from a moment ago suddenly slipping away under your familiar touch.
"Garp." You insisted.
"Fine, fine, I won't intentionally scare them off."
"Good. Now shut up and kiss me again."
"Why of—" Before he could continue, you pulled him by the collar of his shirt, catching him in another dance of your lips. He exhaled like you just lifted a weight off his shoulders, melting into it.
Slow at first, deliberate, like tasting him for the first time. Your hands on either side of his head, fingers through his hair, his own hands steady and soft on your waist, slowly pushing you down on the couch until you were pinned underneath him, never breaking the kiss as it grew faster, hungrier, like he was claiming you, rather than kissing.
Then he pulled back for just a second to catch a glimpse of a breath, before the embrace resumed. Your legs on either side of his hips, hands around his neck smoothly.
"You're a tease." Garp dipped his head to your ear, close enough to whisper, his voice taking a more intimate edge. His breath quickening.
Then, comfortably enough, he trailed open mouthed kisses down your jaw, to your neck. A mark here and there. The air between you grew heavy, charged with a quiet urgency neither of you tried to resist.
Each passing second stretched, blurring time into something softer, slower, as if the world outside had dimmed, leaving only you two together.
Clothes were discarded, carelessly tossed on the floor, a shirt hung lazily and coincidentally on a chair.
Garp's hands wandered with unhurried purpose, finding just the right spots as though drawn by instinct. Every touch lingered just a little longer, drawing out just the right sounds from you. Tracing unspoken promises across skin. A silent conversation deepening with every gentle shift, press, and thrust.
The first time wasn't perfect. It didn't have to be. You chuckled and laughed through it as hard as you tried to be serious.
He wasn't the rough brute you expected him to be. Everything hurt in the right places, in a good way. He always made sure you felt good, never uncomfortable, prior to anything else. And before you knew it, the hours melted away as you both laid on the couch. Breathless, laughing and smiling ever so widely.
You slicked back a few slightly damp strands of hair from your forehead.
"Garp.. what was that?" You giggled, your voice barely above a whisper.
And Garp, sprawled beside you with an arm possessively draped around your waist, cracked one eye open. Hair tousled, his lips curved in a lazy, utterly satisfied grin.
"That, my dear.." He shifted closer, warm breath ghosting over your ear as he pulled you against his bare chest. "That was the night cardio drill."
You slapped his chest lightly, snorting. "That's not funny!"
"Oh, but it is." He chuckled, the sound vibrating from his chest. "And if you're lucky, we might do it again at sunrise."
"Garp, we have to leave at six.. It's four something."
"You underestimate me, once again."
He winked, you buried your face in his chest like it could shield you from him for just a moment.
"..Just.. don't move now. Feel too damn good." He mumbled against your hair, lips brushing your forehead, gentle and almost unapologetic.
You, infact, didn't move. Arm draped around his chest, snuggled against his side ever so comfortably. The thought was still unbearably unrealistic. Because it started with just silly love confessions? Okay, crazy. But now this?
You sighed contently, unbothered to think much now, just relishing the moment, his embrace. The warmth of it, as sleep got to the both of you.
It felt like you only blinked until your alarm went off, about an hour and a half later only.
Garp stirred awake with a grumpy groan, one hand blindly fumbling the table beside your couch, while his other arm remained stubbornly wrapped around your waist.
"Mm.. Hell with it." He muttered, fingers finding the off switch and silencing the offending alarm. Then flopped back onto the blankets and buried his face in your hair. "Why'd you set that again?"
You rubbed your eyes, barely opening them. "..For..Work?"
He finally cracked both eyes open. Squinting at you like you'd just personally offended his bloodline.
"What?? Not my fault you have that much stamina." You sighed, though there was no bite behind your words. You stretched your arms with a yawn.
Garp grumbled under his breath, "Five more minutes," He mumbled against your forehead quietly, while his hand worked lazy circles on your side under the sheets. "They won't notice if we're fashionably late."
"Garp, we're always fashionably late."
"Nonsense, I'm not late, I'm strategically delayed." His gaze dropped to your face, drowsy, slightly flushed. And then to how you slightly winced when stretching. "And you're definitely sore. ´s what happens when you keep saying 'more' instead of 'mercy'"
You grumbled, sitting up suddenly and punching his chest again. "I hope you eternally run out of rice-crackers."
"Ouch. My feelings."
You stood up slowly, leaving him be while you got ready in peace, coming back to grab your uniform and dressing up. Buttons tied, hair tied in the tightest bun your skull could possibly, humanly resist.
And Garp relished. He'd have been slightly disappointed if you didn't look so damn good in uniform.
"Y'know, if you keep dressing infront of me, we might not make it to work at all."
You tossed his uniform coat at his face.
"Shut up."
"Understood." He replied, muffled against the cloth.
.
.
Garp stood by the door now, fully ready, hair slightly wild from sleep, but he still looked every inch the legend... and yet, his eyes softened the second you stepped infront of him again.
He held out his hand, not demanding, not pushing, just there. Offering.
"Let's go." He said, voice low and inviting.
And you held said hand, one that stopped wars and spilled blood, was now holding yours. Calloused, warm in the right places, intertwining with your still delicate fingers.
The early morning air was crisp as you left the premises of your apartment. The sky painted in soft creaks of pink and gold as you walked side by side with Garp.
Like this was just another morning.
Like you were always meant to walk alongside him like this, fitting just right.
His stride was slower than usual, deliberately matching your pace as he noticed the slight hitch in your step from last night's.. activities. He noticed. Of course he did.
Everytime you shifted, he glanced down, lips twitching like he's fighting a smirk.
But when you leaned into him a little more as the wind picked up, his grip on your arm tightened just slightly. Protective. Proud.
And then,
He laughed. Out of nowhere.
It wasn't obnoxious. Or cocky.
It was warm, like sunlight spilling into a dim room. Head thrown back like a madman.
You blinked at him. "What?"
"Nothing." He said, grinning down at you. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to be with the cutest rookie in Marineford like this."
A faint blush dusted your cheeks despite yourself, your ears warming up as you clung closer to him, entering the front gates of the HQ.
Sengoku and Tsuru were already waiting there, facing eachother with coffee mugs and talking about whatever.
They both froze mid-conversation as they saw you two. Arms linked like birds out on a stroll.
Tsuru sipped her drink slowly, deliberately. Sengoku pinched his nose.
"..I give it three days." Tsuru muttered.
Garp shouted across the yard.
"Make it fifty years!"
You laughed, giving a small bow to Tsuru and Sengoku as you passed by them through the gate. "Please do excuse him."
"Excuse me?!" He bellowed, following behind you in dramatic strides. "Betrayal."
"You'll get over it."
Sengoku sighed somewhere behind you; "It's gonna be a long carreer."
Inside the base courtyard, a few soldiers paused mid-drill to stare. One rookie tripped over his own feet.
Meanwhile, Garp slid up beside you carelessly, he was never the type to care about what others thought. Infact, he prized and showed you off, very loudly so.
Grinning with that shameless pride in his eyes, he spoke. "Just wait till lunch.. I'm bringing donuts, and sitting right next to you. No excuses."
You were calmly at the coffee machine, grabbing yourself a cup and taking a slow sip as you glared at him through the edge of it, holding back a smile.
"You'd sit while they whisper about you in your face?"
Garp leaned against the counter beside you, arms crossed and grin unfazed by your remark.
"Let ´em talk, they'll run out of things to say eventually." He turned his head to you, eyes glinting with that reckless fire you loved.
"Besides.. If I sit with my girl during lunch, that's not gossip."
A pause. Then louder, on purpose.
"I'm just showing off what's mine, in my own way."
You only chuckled, clapping a hand at his shoulder.
"You're insufferable.." you sighed, happily.
"You love me."
"God help me, I do."
.
.
end ! ♡ i had lots of fun writing this, i hope you enjoyed.
