#I’m sorry op it still needed doing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 10 months ago

Note

I absolutely adore your writing,

For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?

sunshine.

op x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…

hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚

songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing

2.9k words

oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.

he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.

the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.

his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.

as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.

“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.

“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.

“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.

“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.

your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.

“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.

“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.

“he dumped me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.

“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.

“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.

“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.

“oh. oh.”

“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.

“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.

“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.

“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”

you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.

he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.

you pass out right around chandler’s vows.

you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.

you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.

for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?

“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.

oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.

you kiss him.

because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.

his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.

he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.

“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.

“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.

“really?”

“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.

“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.

and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.

“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.

“why?”

“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-

“oh.”

“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”

“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”

“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.

“then you better do something.”

oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.

“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”

“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.

his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.

“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.

“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.

you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.

“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.

“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.

“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.

his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.

you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.

“want all of you, osc.” you plead.

“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.

oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.

he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.

oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.

“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”

you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.

his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.

“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.

“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.

“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.

you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.

it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.

“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.

a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.

“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.

“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.

you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.

“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.

“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.

“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.

he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.

“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.

you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.

“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.

“so bad.” you pant.

“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.

he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.

“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.

“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“move.”

oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.

“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.

“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.

“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.

when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.

his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.

the most beautiful sunshine man.

“hi.” he whispers.

“hi.” you whisper back.

an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.

“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.

“perfect.” you agree.

“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.

“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.

“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.

when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.

“thank god you broke in.”

oh i’m soft

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lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

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purgaytorysupremacy · 2 months ago

Text

as the grandchild of survivors of the Second World War on both sides, this has been a really hard thing for me to internalize. none of my grandparents (nor my parents) talked about WWII much. I don’t actually know that much about what my families were doing, only that it was bad. I have an entire branch of my family tree that’s just gone and (supposedly) no one knows why. where I grew up in Canada had a lot of Holocaust survivors because we had large Dutch and German communities already, and every year until I graduated high school, we were fortunate enough to hear firsthand stories from survivors.

the one thing my grandparents would say and those survivors would repeat in their talks, over and over, until it was seared in my brain: “Never look away. You can’t let this happen again. The least you can do is never look away.”

I took this lesson very seriously. I was plugged in to the news all the time. I felt so helpless and useless and hopeless, but I wasn’t going to do the people suffering through it the disservice of looking away. I donated my money and my time and hoped to get into international aid, even joined the military because Canada is the nation of peacekeepers (Listen, I was a kid lol) and Gen. Roméo Dallaire, the Canadian who led the peacekeeping mission in Rwanda, was my hero. (Even as it ruined his life.)

I don’t know if anyone reading this had this same experience. I don’t know many people IRL who had this message drilled in so completely. (Being a white first-generation Canadian as a millennial is like that sometimes.) And I ended up breaking. I just couldn’t keep watching everything and being utterly unable to do a damn thing about it. It made me feel like a bad person and like I failed not only my grandparents but all those who shared their stories, so few of them who are still alive to do so.

Thing is, my grandparents got their news from film reels and this new thing called radio. The photos and documentation they saw from the time, both now and contemporaneously, was sparse and edited and targeted, for better or worse. None thought we would someday live in a world where individual people can upload hours of no-context atrocities from anywhere at any time.

Obviously, the “Never Again” and “Don’t look away” aren’t literal, but the way we pay attention now is different than they would’ve in the 1940’s or 1970’s. No one taught me how to stay true to something that has become a core value while not collapsing into compassion and empathy fatigue to the point where I have to look away.

I don’t have an answer on that balance yet, but just understanding that there does need to be one has been incredibly helpful. That doomscrolling isn’t helping anyone. That paying attention doesn’t mean knowing everything about everything at all times. We have more information by orders of magnitude than even existed in my grandparents’ lifetimes. We have to choose what “not looking away” looks like for each of us in the cultural and activism environments we live in. No one is more virtuous or caring because they’ve exposed themselves to more trauma than someone else. It’s not sustainable. You’ve gotta keep your oxygen mask on.

A video that was really helpful in me noodling this out—it’s been a lifelong project, and I’m sure it will continue to be—was Hank Green’s vlog on Webs of Care.

None of us can do everything, but all of us can do anything.

Hi. Things are bleak, I know that. I know that we paid for Trump's last term with blood and it is likely the price will be blood again.

But listen to me. LISTEN.

You do not have to force yourself to witness horrors as an act of activism. It is not a form of activism. You can put your phone down, you can block that horrific video. We cannot win if you cannot fight and you will not be able to fight if you are hopeless.

Do not let them guilt you into this. People who are exhausted are easier to walk over. Take care of yourself, find community where you find joy.

#sorry.#I reblogged this being like oh I’ll just tell this quick story #and then a whole gd essay came out #like I said it’s been a lifelong project for me #and I’m not getting it right at any given time #but I’m doing my best #I want to do right by the people who stoked this in me #I want to be one of the helpers Mr. Rogers told us to look for #it’s fundamental to who I am #but I can’t save the world when I’m drowning #(thanks kc davis - her book on keeping house while drowning was another life changing book)#and when I say I broke I mean it #I spent nearly three years barely existing #and the two years before trying to just keep pushing through it. like always.#and I’m hoping that I’m coming out the other side of those three years now #I think I’m still in them #bc part of having that be so fundamental to your identity is that people who would exploit that will find you lol #and when I broke I also ended up alone #bc I wasn’t useful to the support system I’d ostensibly built up #ANYWAY #it’s a lot!!#the invasion of Ukraine really shattered something in me #and ofc there are things from before and after that are awful and hard #but something about another land war in Europe just… activated the intergenerational trauma I guess.#anyway. if you actually read this thanks! I needed to get this out obviously.#sorry op #here’s wonderwall

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itsagoodluckkiss · 6 months ago

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Hi, I wanted to make a request about Luffy x female reader. The reader is feminine but clumsy, emotionally-reserved, unexperienced and kind-hearted. Smart and funny, with a soft spot for Luffy. . As for the plot, "she fell first, but he fell harder", slice of life with a little angst would be perfect. I'm desperate for fanfiction about first experience in everything kinda stuff. I'm not a minor, so it would be very good to see some sensual and awkward smut. I would be glad to read anything you'll write about Luffy x female!reader and I hope that you liked my request (^o^)/ sorry for bad english

It's Okay ~ Luffy x F!Reader

First of all, thank you for being my first request, you made me really happy and I'm really sorry for the really long wait, we had a really rough couple of months. Also, it's the first smut I've ever written so read this with patience. English is not my first language either and I'm sorry for any mistakes. Anyways, I had fun writing this, I hope you'll like it, lots of love!

Words: +3k

Warnings: hurt/comfort, op spoilers, ptsd, mentions of character death, comfort sex, smut with plot, oral (f!receiving), virginity loss (both), unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluffy ending kinda?, no use of Y/N

MDNI

Quiet days on The Thousand Sunny were as rare as mythical zoans. Not only because of dangerous encounters but also because of how calm the whole crew was today. Even your walking ray of sunshine captain was not as wild as usual. But you couldn’t really complain as you could focus on your task in silence.

The tailor of the crew, responsible of sewing, stitching and mending every piece of fabric on the ship. And that included the sails. Strong winds the night before managed a large tear and the next island was a couple of days away. So you had a job to do. Standing on a rope ladder, you effortlessly worked through the sails with elegance. Every piece of fabric in your home deserved care, as you’d always say when you mended the torn up clothes of your crew mates.

You were proud you could provide your family with loved and cared clothes and everything else they needed, top priority along with the dream of becoming the best tailor the seas had ever seen. Your mind wandered away to the smile of your captain every time you placed the fixed straw hat you came to love so much on his head, while you automatically repaired the sail. But your gracefulness started and ended at the needle in your hand.

Looking away into the sea for one second resulted in you prickling your finger. The sudden feeling caused you to lose your step and balance and you yelped as you fell from the ladder, expecting a hard fall and a trip to Chopper’s infirmary. But the land never came, arms wrapping around your frame, drawing you to somebody’s embrace. In fear, you wrapped yourself around your savior’s waist like a koala, your flower patterned dress coming up slightly. Your face went to the crook of his neck for one second, immediately recognizing who it was, and you raised your head to look at him in embarrassment.

“Hi there!”

“Luffy, thank you, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright. Was on my way to check if you needed help. Guess I was right.” he said laughing.

You smiled and hugged him tightly as he put you down on the deck. You were embarrassed, part of it because of your own clumsiness, another part because of the way Luffy’s hands lingered on your waist before letting you go.

“Are you almost done? Picked up a new card game from the last island and I want to play with you.”

“Oh, ah, I, I still have some, some work to do...?”

You didn’t. You also didn’t know why you said that. You said a lot of stupid stuff lately. You loved spending time with your captain, especially when you knew there wouldn’t be a crazy fight following you in a few hours. Falling in love with his brown eyes, his goofy and brave personality and his loyalty to his friends was the reason you said yes to joining the Straw Hats after you helped them save Robin in Ennies Lobby.

But ever since you returned to Sabaody, it’s gotten harder to contain the feelings for your first love. The other night while you two were keeping watch and talking about things you loved, an “I love you” escaped your lips without thinking, proceeding to an inept attempt to cover it by saying how you loved he is such a loyal friend. You felt the blush rushing to your cheeks as you looked again on his face and noticed something you were seeing more and more these days. His trademark smile was reduced to a small upward line and in his eyes there was a gleam of sadness. You couldn’t have that.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you around later I guess-”

“On another note, I can always finish it later. Let’s go play, Captain!”

And you grabbed his arm, running like a child playing chase across the deck toward Nami’s tangerine trees, laughing as you tripped on your two left feet, Luffy holding you upwards and laughing in the process, always there to catch you.

The ship was in motion, light rain falling from the night sky as Luffy found himself walking aimlessly on the empty deck. His black hair tousled, his straw hat dangling from the string around his neck, his posture slumped, trying to find some sort of relief in the breeze that hit his face. His trembling hands grip the railing, his gaze lost towards the vast ocean, unable to back focus on anything but his most recent nightmare. Memories of Ace's death spreading, like poison in his veins, once again. He tried to steady his breathing but failed as hot tears run down his cheeks, silent sobs leaving his body, trying not to wake up his crew. He hadn’t talked to anyone about Marineford. There was no reason for his friends to see him in that weakened state. He could tell that everyone felt guilty because they weren’t there for him, he didn’t want to feed that ugly feeling inside them.

You felt restless, worry prickling your skin like a hundred needles at once. Sleep wouldn’t do you a favor so you hoped off bed to get some fresh air on the deck and some moments of peace to think. Luffy’s sad eyes lingered in your thoughts. You couldn’t help but think about how much he had changed since you first met. You remembered the scrawny, eager, brave boy he was. Now his hair was longer and spikier, and he looked stronger than ever before, he was almost a man. Despite his carefree looks, a lot had changed about him. Yes, he was still as eager and resilient and determinated as ever, yet more mature, as much as maturity applied to him. And that big scar across his chest was the only testament of the fight he gave alone two years ago, as he hadn't talked to any of you about it. Not that he had to. You all knew you would wholeheartedly give him the support in any form he’d need. You’d do what you knew best. Take care of the people you loved. And from the moment you joined the crew, you knew your heart belonged to the straw hat captain.

You spotted Luffy in the front of the ship. It was unusual for him to be up and alone this late at night. Your eyes filled with concern, you walked closer to him as you noticed the trembling in his form, worry rising in your chest. Your hand caressing his shoulder slightly, you didn’t want to scare him or make him feel worse.

"Luffy?" you asked softly, voice barely audible over the wind.

Luffy wiped his tear streaked face quickly and tried to control his heavy breathing, wanting to be like his usual self, even if he knew it was too late for acting.

“I…”

He took a deep breath trying to hold it all in. He was the one that was supposed to help people through their crying and problems, to protect them. He couldn’t protect his friends in Sabaody, he couldn’t save his brother. He swore he’d never let anything like those things happen again. He didn’t want to be seen as weak. Not again. Not in front of his crew. Not in front of you.

“It’s okay, Luffy.”

His eyes met yours, a warm and safe gaze, always inviting and full of love, ready to be a place of comfort and joy to anyone that needed it. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder and back, taking him in a comforting embrace. His arms went immediately around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as silent sobs left him once again. He hugged you tightly, hyperventilating as he let every last feeling of grief and pain out. You felt your eyes well too, the pain your favorite person carried alone enough to make you want to scream.

“It’s okay… you’re okay… it wasn’t your fault…”

“I couldn’t… I thought you… were all dead… and… I was right there… I couldn’t save him… he left… in my arms… it should have been me!”

Your heart ached listening to Luffy's sobs, tears running down your face as well. You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, and looked into his red, puffy eyes.

“Listen to me! Don’t say that again, ever! We all know you’d never let us down. You did everything you could, Luffy, you always do, and it’s enough for us." You said, voice shaking, carrying all the sincerity in the world. "And you always were there for him. You gave everything you had! He loved you so much and you saved him because you showed him how loved and cherished he was! You're still doing everything you can to keep his memory alive. That's what he would want! Don’t do this to yourself, please.”

You wiped the tears off his face and squeezed his cheeks like you usually did when you shared food and laughs together, managing to drag out a small smile from the boy.

“How about we go grab some tea and biscuits from the kitchen before Sanji comes down from his watch and go to my room?” you suggested, knowing Luffy would never say no to food.

“It’s on!”

Stealth wasn’t your strongest suit as you somehow always managed to hit on something. And with Luffy beside you, havoc was almost always certain. Getting out of the kitchen as fast as you could, before Sanji’s yells could reach you, you run into the ship, down to your handicraft’s room. The warmth of the cabin enveloped Luffy, feeling a little more like his usual self now, as he took in the room. That’s were all your great works laid, with needles, threads and sewing machines all over the place. From clothes and blankets to large embroideries hanging from the walls. You laid a soft, fluffy blanket on the ground to sit on. You sipped your scolding tea as Luffy munched on a cookie, taking in your works.

“I don’t know how you can make beautiful things like these.”

“I’ve practiced it a lot. And I love it. I’m glad you like it, Captain.”

You smiled widely, gaining a toothy grin from him.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For always being here.”

You were thinking your next words for a moment before moving the cups and plate from the blanket, taking his shoulders gently as you both laid on the ground, your eyes looking at each other, taking his hand into yours.

“It's alright to not be fine, you know… I'll always be here for you, no matter what.”

“It’s… I’m not thinking about it most of the time… I just have nightmares… it’s hard sometimes.”

“And that’s completely logical, Luffy, you’ve been through hell! I collapsed when I heard the news and couldn’t be with you. I would have run to you if I could. I love you so much and I’m sorry I wasn’t there and…”

You were the one tearing up now, cheeks red from embarrassment as the words slipped through your mouth without thinking. You knew Luffy would be shattered when you heard about Ace. The only thing you wanted was to hug him until you pulled all his pieces back together. He met your gaze. Luffy was never interested in romance. He didn’t thought he needed it. Until he met you and for the first time, he wanted someone to join his crew not only because he wanted them as a friend and they’d be a great addition, but because he felt something different, something he couldn’t quite understand. The only thing he knew was that he loved you a little differently than the rest of his friends. It was his turn to brush the tears off your face now and you melted from his touch. You tried to speak but before you could, his hand, warm and slightly trembling, cup your cheek. His lips pressed into yours, just for a moment, before drawing back only inches from your face.

“I think I love you too.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, heart pounding against your ribs. Never had you thought you’d hear those words from Luffy. Of course, you knew he loved everyone in the crew, but this felt different. You felt like you would burst into flames as you blushed even more.

“You, you do?!”

“Yeah… you’re sweet and strong… always by my side… you’re very important to me…”

You let out a gasp of surprise as you hugged him tightly and crushed your lips into his clumsily, both of you laughing at your enthusiasm. Small, sweet kisses evolved into longer, more passionately ones and soon you were underneath him, his hands caressing your thigh beneath your dress, your hands slowly pushing his vest off of him.

“Are you okay?”

“I am, you?”

“Me too.”

Soon, your clothes landed somewhere else in the room as you felt him caressing your skin everywhere and you gasped into the kiss, him taking advantage of your parted lips to push his tongue into your mouth, tangling it messily with yours. His lips travelled down your neck and lower, soon to be between your legs. A feeling of self-consciousness crept over you as you closed your legs and he smiled up at you as he caressed your thigh.

“Hey, it’s okay, we can stop if you want.”

“No, I want this, I’ve just… never do this before…”

“Neither do I. We’ll find it together. But I want you to be comfortable. You can stop me if you don’t feel okay.”

You smile down at him and relaxed a bit, allowing him to spread your legs and start kissing the inside of your thighs. It felt so good to share another experience with him, and his touch was gentler than you thought it would be. He positioned your thighs on his shoulders and before you could react, his mouth was on you, his tongue licking a stripe before latching onto your clit. Your head fell back immediately as a choked out moan slipped through your mouth, one hand flying to his hair, pulling on his locks gently as the other grasped the blanket beneath you. His eyes were on you, his look was magnetic and focused on the task of making you feel good. A finger circling your tight hole, it pushed inside you slowly as he sucked on your clit, making you whimper from the pleasurable feeling. The stretching inside you new and welcomed, a combination of his mouth and a second finger breaching in has your orgasm approaching faster than you expected. He curled his fingers upwards, hitting repeatedly a spot you had never reached before on your own and it pushed you over the edge unexpectedly. He smiles against you as small moans left your mouth, your whole body shaking, your head spinning.

Coming down from your high, he crawls back on top of you and kisses you passionately, your tongues intertwining. You can taste yourself through the kiss, and it makes you long for more. He breaks the kiss and smiles down at you.

“How was that?”

“Luffy, it was… amazing. How did you know-”

“Didn’t. Just did what felt right. Are you okay to continue?”

You nodded eagerly and he grinned at you, his lips back on yours again. Your hand sneaks between your bodies to grab his dick, gently pumping him up and down, bringing him close to your folds. He moans into the kiss and swats your hand away, gliding himself between your now soaked pussy, his tip touching your clit every time, sending small jolts of pleasure down your spine. He breaks the kiss, his face only inches apart from yours, staring into your eyes.

“You’re sure?”, he whispered.

“Yes captain, please…”

A shiver run through his body as he hears your plead, and he moves his tip against your entrance, pushing in. A small gasp escape you and a sharp hiss leaves his mouth as he slowly slides into you, his movements awkward but gentle, the feeling of your warmth around him making him slightly tremble as he bottoms out. It felt slightly uncomfortable for you at first but the pain you expected to feel was nowhere to be found. His lips were on your neck, nibbling and sucking gently while his arms roamed your body, trying to make you relax as he stayed still, waiting for you to adjust to him. A few moments passed and your hand cupped his chin, bringing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

“Feels better now?”

“Yes, Luffy… please, move…”

He smiled down at you and placed another soft kiss on your lips as he began to move, taking it slow and tender, setting a rhythm that made you gasp, the pleasure spreading over you. One of his hands on yours, intertwining your fingers as the other grabbed your thigh to keep you against him, his forehead on yours, eyes closed as you both relished the feeling of your bodies pressed together. His speed picked up slightly as he finds a steady rhythm and you moan his name, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close. He smiles widely and kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, your fingers running through his hair, gently tugging at his dark locks.

One hand gripped your thigh rougher now, pushing it upwards, the shift in position allowing him to go deeper, the other sneaking between your bodies to rub at your clit. Your face buries in the crook of his neck, trying to choke down your moans, the knot in your stomach tightening as his thrusts grow faster and sloppier, you feel that he’s close too.

Your lips connect again in a messy kiss and your back arches as you come undone, crying out through the kiss, your nails dragging down his back. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck, his hands grab your hips to drag you to him as he fucks you through your high, his hips stuttering, feeling your walls squeezing him tight, pushing him over the edge with you.

You stay like this for a while, hands wrapped around each other, his face buried in the crook of your neck, savoring the moment. He places a tender kiss on your cheek and turns to face you, his head on your shoulder.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel… wonderful…” you say with a sigh as you smile up at him. His hand caressing you cheek, he placed another sweet kiss before stretching his hand to grab another blanket nearby, covering the both of you. He then lies flat on top of you again, his arms wrapping around you, and closes his eyes, still inside you.

“Luff, we…”

“Can’t move, I feel snuggly right now.”

You laugh softly as you hug him back, feeling his breath slow down as he slowly falls asleep, your eyelids getting heavy as well, a content smile playing on your lips.

“Goodnight dummy…”

#luffy x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #luffy x you #luffy smut #one piece smut #luffy x female reader #monkey d luffy #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d luffy x reader #one piece fanfiction #luffy x y/n #monkey d luffy x y/n #luffy x reader smut

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cinnbar-bun · 11 months ago

Text

Affinity (Various OP Characters x Reader)

Characters: Brook, Buggy, Beckman, Crocodile, Zoro, Mihawk, Corazon, Shanks, Law

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~4k

A/n: Reader is GN! I kinda made this after hearing about a special thing in my religion, and decided I wanted to do this. I of course made it more romantic in nature than the original idea goes, but hey, romance! I had my followers choose 7 originally but it went to 9, which is a very lucky number in my religion so maybe it was a sign? Who knows! Please enjoy <3

Tagging: @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 @undeadeurydice @i-am-vita @kiribuchi @therosietoesy (sorry, I forgot who asked for Law my bad)

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There is a belief that before you are born, you were once a soul that had existed with other souls. Souls who had an affinity for each other would find that affinity carried in their time as a human. Souls who repelled each other would find that distaste carried over as well. Perhaps it was preordained, fate, destiny- whatever you’d call it. Regardless, it seems your soul has met with someone who once had an affinity for you…

Brook

Being an undead figure unable to pass on was not what Brook had in mind. In some ways, he was grateful for another chance at life, another chance to do what he previously was too dead to finish. Albeit, being a pile of bones did have its drawbacks.

While he could still function and do things many humans did, fact was, he was anything but. One look at him would easily make him stand out as something like a freak of nature.

Skeletons cannot love and be loved like a human. He could hold, but could not be held like a human. Admittedly, it had bothered him on occasion, but he always tried to brush it off with a simple hum or shrug. After all, he had his friends and crewmates- and he had a promise to continue fighting for. That should be enough.

But he couldn’t stop his eyes (if he had any) from wandering… couldn’t stop the way his mind wondered…

Just what could it be like if I too could fall in love?

Ah, but that’s such a silly thing for a skeleton to consider. Who could ever love the undead remains of someone long forgotten?

He’d practically given up on such silly notions like love or a relationship- it didn’t fit his current predicament.

So Brook focused on his music and his performances instead. He held up his violin and decided to waste some time on this sunny day playing for his audience of a few blue birds chirping at this green park. It was beautiful and reminded him of his day with the Rumbar Pirates- agh, nostalgia was always his weakest attribute, he thinks.

His fingers drift along the strings of the instrument, peacefully playing his weary heart away. He doesn’t recognize he has another guest until he hears slow clapping.

“What?” He turns his head, surprised to see you on the bench, smiling and clapping.

“That was lovely,” you comment. Time slows still and your eyes meet, shining (e/c) eyes with hollow black sockets.

If he had skin, perhaps he would’ve been red or sweating buckets. As a skeleton, he was not able to do things. But Brook was still a man through and through, and he couldn’t help but freeze at seeing the way your eyes were soft and full of admiration.

“I’m glad you thought so. Music is my pride and joy.”

“I can tell,” you reply. “I felt like I forgot to breathe for a moment when I heard that. I’m sorry for watching, though, if you weren’t looking for an audience.”

“N-no, actually it was…” he was too caught up in the way his soul was resonating and burning within him. “I appreciate it actually. Would you like me to play a song for you?”

“Would you? I’d love to hear more!”

Buggy

Buggy never believed in things like soulmates or fairy tales or blah blah blah- it was all junk! The only thing he ever could trust was treasure- shiny, bright, treasure! What else did a pirate need or want?

Is what he would say out loud- Buggy, even at a young age, was secretly a romantic who refused to let himself be swept up in the sentiment. When him and Shanks would sail together on Roger’s ship, Shanks would often ask what he thought about love.

Unlike Buggy, Shanks was pretty honest and confident about his assertions. Buggy would stumble and try to keep the bravado up, pretending as if he didn’t secretly yearn for a person who could look past his red nose and maybe possibly sorta kinda like him? Was that too much to ask? If you were Buggy, the answer was yes, because he would never allow himself the chance to be soft or vulnerable with someone. Especially not when he was already so sensitive about his looks and attitude. The thought of letting his guard down to be loved terrified him- what if they left? What if they made fun of him, too?

It was just too much for his fragile ego, so he brushed it aside and continued his hunt for treasure.

“Now where the hell am I?” He yelled, tilting the map in his hand left and right, as if that would somehow make his destination clearer. “Kinda crappy treasure map is this?”

He glared and shoved the map back in his pocket as he stomped around this town. He hadn’t ever bothered to come to this place before, so everything was new for him. He glared at the kids who were pointing at his nose to scare them off (mission accomplished), but his foul attitude still didn’t lessen.

As Buggy turned a corner, he accidentally rammed into someone. They shrieked, and his hat fell off his face and covered his eyes.

“Watch it, will ya? I’m walkin’ he…” he pushed his hat back up and came face to face with perhaps the most gorgeous person he’s ever met. His mouth was wide open, gawking at you as you gave an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there,” you said sheepishly.

“Y-yeah it’s… it’s cool. No biggie,” he mumbled in a daze.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he returned to normal. “I mean, yeah, totally.”

You chuckle at his behavior, and something within Buggy’s chest makes it feel like there’s a million butterflies flapping inside his ribcage. He can’t help the dumb grin on his face as he laughs along.

“Sorry again, sir. I’ll keep an eye out for you next time,” you wink and begin walking away, making Buggy flabbergasted. N-next time? Was that a promise? He didn’t even realize what he was thinking before he turned around and tried to jog back to you.

“H-hey, wait up-!”

Beckman

Beckman was fairly ambivalent to the idea of a “soulmate” or “affinity”. Sure, he humored his often childish captain with those notions, but the fact was, Beckman was simply a sailor at heart. He didn’t think being “stuck” to someone was the life he wanted, and he was fairly sure a sane, rational person would not want to be the lover of a first mate to perhaps one of the most infamous pirate crews on the sea.

Now, this would imply you were sane and rational, and this would also imply that he was also not a sucker for you. Perhaps that was what made him attracted to you in the first place, or maybe it was something that gave him the idea that his captain wasn’t so off base.

When it came to you, Beckman was eager, a bit too eager, the others would joke. Whenever you called, he came running and answering like a loyal servant. Whenever you wrote, his lips would form a large smile while he refused to let the others look at the letter you sent. Whenever he was away from you for long periods of time, he drank a bit too much.

It was common place enough for the others to notice and tease him about, even if Beckman was adamant there was nothing there. You guys were just… friends, or something ambiguous like that. You didn’t need a label for your relationship. This was completely normal, you were normal, he was normal- nothing was out of the ordinary, so if they would please stop asking and make him confront those pesky feelings he-

Maybe he had a problem. He never felt this way for anyone else he encountered. You knew of his philandering, not seeming to care all that much, but damn it, even he couldn’t continue that streak because his mind would get occupied with you, you, you. Love was too complicated. Maybe this was the alcohol talking. Or Shanks getting in his head about “souls being attuned” or whatever spiritual jazz the red-haired captain would spout.

No, it really made sense, all things considered. There was no one else but you to make him quit fooling around with others on the islands he stopped at. There was no one else but you who invaded his thoughts, who plagued him day and night with those eyes, that smile, the way you hated that red cologne he once bought and-

Oh dear god, he was deep into this, wasn’t he?

Crocodile

Love? Spirits? Souls? Soulmates?

Yeah right, add that to the list of stupid things weak poets say to make their miserable lives have some meaning. You could jump through a million hoops to try and blame encounters and relationships on things like “destiny” or “fate”. To a man like Crocodile, however, “destiny” was just something he could control. Whether through bribes of money or through making them submit with his fearsome powers, “destiny” was nothing but another means of his affluence.

Only those who were weak and had nothing could not control their lives.

Something like love was a crutch used by those who had nothing to pretend they did. What was love to power? What was love to wealth? To fame? To greatness?

Love was the longest-running scam that Crocodile almost could be impressed with, if not for the fact that the sentiment around love made him want to gag.

Except, now he was actively looking for jewelry to buy you, flowers to deliver to your doorstep, and outfits to clothe you in for when you visited him.

It was almost disgusting how Crocodile was eagerly awaiting for your next arrival, for when he could be able to see you on the street or at his casino so he could see that face he adored so much. Those eyes that made him want to melt, that voice that echoed in his head, that smile that made him want to have an image of you adorned on his wall so he could always see it.

Something, he could never place what it was, drew him to you. Something made you seem to stand out to him in ways that no other could. He was Crocodile- world famous business man and pirate- he had no shortage of people throwing themselves at him or fearing him. Only to you was he trying his luck attempting to woo you to give him that look he loved. Only for you was he making excuse after excuse to continue seeing you, lying over and over that he had a reason to use you, that it was just a part of some master plan.

He exhaled another puff of his cigar and rubbed his temples.

Gods, why was he acting this way? He was Crocodile. Not a lovesick teenage boy, not some lonely man, not some simpering-

“Sir, (Y/n) has arrived.” His ears perked up as he quickly slicked back his hair.

“Is that so? Send them up,” he orders, grabbing his expensive cologne to spray onto him again.

Zoro

Zoro had never heard of the idea of soulmates or anything like that. When one lives, breathes, and dies by the sword, something like “soulmates” is just comical. He doesn’t need love to become the best swordsman. He didn’t need love to teach him how to pick up a sword and kill another with it. That was, in fact, the complete opposite of love.

Survival of the fittest, he thought. Nothing more, nothing less. You kill for bounties, bounties that pay, pay that gives you a chance to eat food. Nothing more to it. He never did more than he needed to, never worked harder for anything outside of his sword training and hunting. What else did a swordsman need to live?

He was currently drinking his fill at a local tavern of some random village he washed out upon. He didn’t care to get names, not when he was always moving, always killing, always leaving. “Zoro” was a passing chance encounter few got to ever meet or understand. He was fine with that. A bounty hunter didn’t need attachments. A bounty hunter definitely didn’t need someone weighing him down.

At the tavern, a few rowdy pirates were acting up. Yelling obscenities, throwing food and liquor at one another, making rude gestures- nothing out of the ordinary for drunk pirates. Zoro had no business with them, so he ignored them, continuing to order pint after pint.

It wasn’t until he heard a crash that he looked up. You were angrily yelling at one of the pirates who threw a drink at you, and his mates were drawing their weapons. It was clear you were outnumbered, so you looked around the bar for anyone that would help.

Normally, Zoro wouldn’t bother, figuring you dug your own grave by messing with pirates like that. However, when he glanced to your eyes, he found himself… staring. Lost. Entranced?

He didn’t know why he felt like he should protect you, but he always had a good intuition when it came to these sorts of things. He sighed, placed his mug down, then stood up, drawing his swords from their sheathes.

“Zoro,” he stated. A rare thing for him to admit so casually to a normal person. The pirates heard his name and shriveled up in fear. Zoro didn’t pay them any mind, instead tapping his sword against his shoulder impatiently. “Need me to shut these guys up?”

Mihawk

If you had asked a young Mihawk about love, he would have most certainly called you a fool for daring to think of such illogical things instead of focusing on one’s own strength and potential. While he had heard of the sentiments about love and soulmates before, he didn’t place much value into it. Love was a distraction from the training he could have done. Love was a waste of time. Love was just for weak-minded people who let themselves be vulnerable or gentle with another. Love wasn’t for people like him.

Which was why he was now trying to instill the opposite into his foolhardy protege, Zoro. Yes, yes, unfortunately, Mihawk was proven wrong from his earlier ways of thinking, and ever since then, he’s been doing his best to be a good man for you.

“I didn’t think a guy like you would have a partner…” Zoro would mumble.

“Of course I would. Do I not look like a suitable husband?” Mihawk replied as he was sipping his wine. “A marriage is only an aspect of your training and power.”

“How does cooking dinner help you train?” Zoro raised a brow, not believing a word.

“If you cannot handle a routine for even the most mundane and domestic of tasks, you cannot expect to be disciplined enough to train. If you think something like making your love a cup of tea or folding laundry is too hard or not worthy enough, you are not worthy enough to hold a sword.”

Zoro nodded, impressed by Mihawk’s reasoning (or maybe impressed at how you somehow made the world’s greatest swordsman so whipped and happy to make you dinner).

“Well, when you put it like that,” Zoro scratched his cheek, looking back at his mentor to see him staring at you longingly from the window. You and Perona were outside picking some of the vegetables at the garden, an activity you insisted upon doing despite Mihawk’s protests. You and the young lady were joking and laughing about something Perona said, and Mihawk sighed.

“Something wrong?” Zoro asked, unsure what Mihawk was thinking with his stoic appearance.

“No, not at all,” Mihawk shook his head, taking another sip.

“Then why did you sigh like that?” Zoro questioned. A smirk grew on Mihawk’s lips as he chuckled, continuing to look at you. You… you who were so special, who had become the apple of his eye, his strength, his joy, his passion.

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand it right now, my student,” Mihawk closed his eyes. “Fate is… it’s simply a humorous thing.”

Corazon

He always was a sensitive soul, despite his outer appearance and harsh exterior. But even as a child, Law could tell something was up with Corazon.

“Why are you always looking at them?” Law grumpily asked, folding his arms and raising a brow at his benefactor.

“Hm? At who?” Corazon dumbly responded, cigarette in his lips.

“You know who I mean! Don’t act stupid!” Law shouted. Corazon chuckled and exhaled the smoke.

“Sorry, gotta be more specific.”

Of course, Corazon knew who Law was referring to. It wasn’t like Corazon had hidden his affection for you, but that was for another time. You were something special, something that Corazon yearned for but could never have. Not when Doflamingo’s influence was so large and looming over his life. But even if Corazon himself could not love you so freely, he always did like to tell the young boy stories. Of course, Law, being a jaded little boy, had never really given thought to such things like “soulmates” or “souls knowing each other”. That was stupid and impossible.

Corazon liked to believe, though. It comforted him. It made him feel happy that, hey, even if this life perhaps didn’t work out for him and you, at least he had known you before. At least he was able to see you again. At least he got you in his life for a moment, even if it would end in nothing but heartache and pain. At he least, for just a bit, he got to see that smile, those eyes, and feel your hands over his.

It made his life a little less hard, a little less dull. The romanticism that despite Doffy meddling in his life, Corazon still had a chance with you, was meant to know and be with you… well, that was plenty enough for him. It made him happier, too, knowing Law was perhaps a soul he was acquainted with before. It made him feel like he was always going to be guaranteed love and kindness with you and Law, even if the world was unkind to him.

Yes, this new family he had found was perhaps where he belonged the most. With you and Law by his side, there was nothing more he could ask for.

Shanks

“You’re obsessed.”

“Am not!” Shanks yelled childishly at Beckman, before turning back to face the island they were planning on docking at soon. The wide smile on his face made it clear he was beyond excited to be there, and the other men chuckled.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on running off to see em?” Yassop asked, knowing the answer.

“Oh, stop bugging about it! It’s just a little reunion with (Y/n), not anything crazy,” Shanks waved off. He breathed into his palm and winced at the smell of his breath. “Crap, does anyone have any mouthwash?”

“I don’t think anything can get that stench out. If they hadn’t run away cuz of your smell before, I think you’re good now!”

“Haha, very funny guys. Besides, it’s just between friends. Nothing weird.”

Of course, that was a bit of a fib, but who doesn’t tell little white lies? Surely he’d be forgiven for saying that by whomever was possibly in charge of making this happen?

Shanks, even with his overwhelming power and influence, did believe in superstition. It would be foolish not to, especially in such a dangerous world that a pirate inhabits. Sure, some of them were old wive’s tales from scared-straight sailors, but he did find them having some merit. He didn’t like to discount the seemingly impossible, not when it made even the most outlandish things possible.

He believed it was fate he got to meet Buggy and be a part of Roger’s crew. He believed it fate he met little Luffy in Foosha Village. He also believed it was fate he saved you that day. Some things just “made sense” like that to Shanks. It certainly made his life more interesting while also giving him a chance to bother you as always.

“Oh, come on, you can’t really kick out your soulmate, can you?” Shanks would tease.

“Soulmate?” You laugh. “Is this your attempt at proposing to me?”

“Hey, if you’d like it to be, I can absolutely make it happen,” Shanks replied, an earnest look in his eyes. You smile at him- crap, how do you always manage to make him ache and miss you? It’s gotta be fate, because no way could anyone have his heart in tight vice like this.

“Well… if you’re insisting, Captain,” you begin, smirking at him. “Why not take me with you? As your soulmate.”

Shanks’s eyes widened and the look on his face was a mixture of bewilderment and excitement.

“You know I can always make room for you,” he answered, trying to steady himself.

“Good. Although, we could share a room.”

“You drive a hard bargain, dear,” he chugs his rum. “Cheers to us!”

Law

Since he was a young boy, Law always tried to remain by himself. You couldn’t really trust anyone in a world of piracy and violence like that. Corazon, of course, always recommended otherwise. He even shared stories about a place where souls all were together.

It didn’t sound plausible or even remotely make sense. How would you even know if your soul was supposedly affiliated with someone?

It had been years since those days and the loss of Corazon, and even though he tried his hardest not to, Law still kept those stories in his mind. They were pointless and silly, but they were something Corazon believed wholeheartedly, even saying it was a miracle he got to meet a young Law. In some ways, Law felt somewhat similarly.

Love wasn’t for someone like Law. Too damaged, too cold, too logical, too afraid to ever let that feeling grow. It was how he stayed and remained for his life, and how he was planning on operating for the rest of time.

Until you, quite literally, crashed into him.

Jeez, you had to be a pest. Or a virus. Or a parasite. Something like that, but gosh, you were contagious. When you smiled, he found himself wanting to smile back. When you talked, he found himself thinking over every word you spoke in great detail. Maybe he was overthinking things, maybe when you said you were happy to have met him that was just you being friendly. Or something.

Almost always his mind drifted to you, feeling a certain way for you that he didn’t feel with the others in his crew or from the Straw Hats. You were different.

Perfect? Maybe. Definitely too good for someone like him, he’d think. But even with that self-loathing and apprehension, he found himself being drawn to you like a magnet.

Cora, if this is what you meant before…

Damn it, now he was letting things like soulmates and affinity cloud his judgment. He was a grown man, not a young boy, he didn’t need those silly delusions and ideas growing in his head and making him think he had a chance with you.

“Tora-o!” Luffy called. “Come here!!”

“No,” Law grumbled.

“Law,” you asked right after. “Do you mind helping me with this?”

“...yes,” he replied, stoically walking up to you to see what your problem was. Luffy gawked and pouted from the side, while a few of the others chuckled at Law.

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joelsflower · 8 months ago

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little present | bfd!joel x f!reader

you were sure christmas’s night would be, as it always is since you’ve been by yourself, boring. that’s only until sarah invites you to the miller’s house and joel makes it his mission to unwrap more than one present til midnight.

an: okay i know we’re in APRIL lmaoo sorry but read it now!! reread it in december!! do whatever!! hope u like it!! :^) also i apologize if i’m still mistaking “in/on/at” a bit too much, i’m still learning the language :/ hope it’s not too bad and doesn’t influence badly on your reading tho! no beta ops

wc: uhh… 5k maybe?

tw: titty sucking and pussy fingering combo (yay!), beginning of blowjob but that’s it, soft dom!joel, older!joel (nothing illegal pls), best friend’s dad, teasing, reader is able bodied, afab but not described; there’s one part where “your smaller body” is used but just to point she was smaller than joel. image also does not describe reader, only for visuals. no y/n. ALSO. weather not described!! shout out to us latinas who go through christmas sweating and panting 🫡 it can be snowing too tho up to you

🌹🌹🌹

You knocked three times on the door; unsure if it would sound impatient or even be heard due to the loud music and chatting coming from the inside. Sarah didn’t lie about the whole family coming this year for Christmas.

By the look on Joel’s face when he opened the door, your three knocks sounded more like the angels singing.

His big brown eyes lit up like candlelight when they found you. For a moment, you stood there in silent, letting him get drunk in your sight and you in his. The puffy bags under his eyes let you know it was a rough week, a rough week without you. The raspy, yet-to-make scruff adorning his cheeks and neck inciting your skin without even being near it. His calloused knuckles gripped the doorknob and the muscle on his bicep swelled, making your mouth water.

You let your eyes dance from his salt and pepper curls and finally to the little bit of chest peaking from the deep red plaid shirt, and when your eyes found his he broke the spell, letting out what seemed to be the first breath he took since he opened the door.

“Hi, sweetheart. Didn’t know Sarah invited you.” he shrugged weirdly, hand resting on his hip and the other on the door, like he was nervous. Due to college and construction, it’s been around one week since you’ve properly seen each other — it seemed like a whole year.

“Oh, hey santa” you joked, soft voice coaxing his tired ears, nodding to the santa hat hugging his curls. Suddenly, it was like he remembered he was wearing it and took it off, shoving it in his back pocket while making a face, biting back a smile when your giggle hit his ears.

“Uh- yeah, I wasn’t on the plans I think,” your fingers carved on the plate in your hand, and he gave you a “stop that” face, “she just called me last minute. But I have this!” you shook the plate of cookies a little, making it be noticed.

“Didn’t need t’bring anything, ya know. Just you’s enough.” silence once again put itself between the two of you, and if you were losing your mind, Joel could bet he was losing his a lot more harder. Opening the door to find the only sight that could relief his tired eyes on a beautiful red dress that hugged your body perfectly, matching see-through black thighs that allowed him to see just enough to drive him crazy and the need for comfort that he could well read in your gaze was not on his list, but was definitely a present.

Not being able to properly talk or touch you was feeling more like being on santa’s badlist, though. And maybe it was what he deserved, he thought, for fucking his daughter’s best friend and enjoying it so much.

You brought him back to life. What was he supposed to do if not give you the world and the best orgasms in it?

“Uh- come on in, then” he shook his desire away, holding the door open and watching as you passed by him.

One foot past the door and the chatter got louder. Uncles and sisters and cousins of cousins of cousins — there were a lot of Millers in this world, and all of them would be a problem if you wanted just a bit of closeness to Joel tonight.

“Thank you, Mr. Miller,” you looked up at him shyly, hoping treating him more formally would get you away in case anyone heard anything. Joel, on the other side, could not be less subtle while losing control of how hard he closed the door when your silky voice hit his ears, saying his name, thanking him. Just like you did when he held your wrists up your head and made your foggy bambi eyes roll back your head.

“Here,” he took the santa hat in his hands, stepping closer to put it in your head. The way his fingers carefully put your hair behind your ear set your body on fire, just the slight brush of its tips on your earlobe, the soft but swift strokes on your scalp to put your hair in place sending cold breezes up and down your spine.

“I missed you,” you whispered, lashes flourishing while your fingers boldly played the buttons of his flannel. You just needed to touch him.

But he didn’t answer right away, too focused on “putting the damn thing on your head”, which translates to an excuse to caressing your face and being close enough your sweet, peachy smell invaded his nostrils and messed with his brain chemistry.

“All done” your glossy eyes and quivering lips broke his heart in a million; all he wanted to do was take you in his arms right there. “Later, angel” he reassured you, taking your hand off of his shirt and giving you a softer look, that you knew was his way of apologising and comforting you for now. It was too risky, you knew that too.

“Oh gosh, you’re here, finally!” Sarah jumped on you for a hug, scaring the two of you, her bubbly energy warming you up. “Jesus dad, knew you’d hate it,” she gestured to the hat on your head, filling your mind with thoughts of him. “C’mon, you need to meet cousin Maria!” she dragged you away, the only thing connecting you to Joel being the lingering gaze you’d share for the rest of the night.

🌹🌹🌹

“Ha! Remember that, brother?” Tommy laughed about a story old enough to be your age; about one time him, Joel and their other cousin Frank went fishing and something apparently went wrong, you weren’t really paying attention though.

Not when Joel’s hand had found your knee under the table.

You just had to sit by his side cause Sarah wanted to be close to Maria that was close to Tommy that was close to someone else and the seat by Joel’s side ended up being the only one empty.

“Sit there by dad’s side, he doesn’t care. Here, gimme this,” she took the plate of sweets from your hands, setting it on the table. Joel, who was praying someone could come save him from hearing the same story for the 10th time, made space for you to pull the chair and accommodate your smaller figure by his side.

Around ten minutes into chatting with Sarah and Maria and taking food from left to right on the table, you felt his knee brush yours. The simple warmth of physical connection between the two of you made your whole body vigilant, in hopes for some more.

“Ya should be there, Sarah. Never not funny seeing your old man struggling t’get some fish” Tommy looked towards you, meeting Sarah’s and Maria’s giggles. Joel bit back a laugh, it was funny, yes, but he didn’t want to look like a stupid old man to you. That’s when you met him with a small smile and a brush of your thigh on his, inviting his hand to instinctively envelope your knee.

“Oh, I’ve seen him struggle to do less, believe me”

And I’ve seen him do more with the stamina of a teenage boy, you thought.

Joel’s hand snaked up a bit more into your leg, always careful to not be seen, but stern enough to make you feel him, invading the area of your inner thigh and dragging your dress up a little. The warmth of his large palm against the material pressing at your skin was driving you insane, the way his fingers were digging into your soft but covered flesh and his thumb squeezing at your outer thigh making your core pulse and the hairs at your neck stir up.

Mine, ran through his head.

“Both of you are on my badlist tonight, hope y’know that” he seriously pointed at Sarah and Tommy, giving them an angry-like look and the ones around you bursted laughing. You reached down a hand to lay on top of his, your smaller fingers gripping his much bigger pointer one, his thumb immediately brushing your hand, his way of saying “you’re not”.

🌹🌹🌹

“I think I need some air” you told Sarah as you got up from the couch and released her hand. Your tummy was full and your eyes were starting to get heavy. From the other side of the room, Joel’s eyes followed you to the balcony.

The peace of the outside of the house was everything you needed, trying to keep your mind from the trap of going into the Joel Joel Joel Joel to risky risky risky spiral. The moon lit up the sky and kissed your rosy cheeks, the singing of the crickets taking you away from all the buzz.

Just when you closed your eyes and breathed in the december air, you jumped when a strong hold surrounded your waist, the warmth of his chest hugging your back.

“Jesus, I— they’ll see us” you panicked.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” his other hand spread to pet on your tummy, paired with a kiss to your temple, “I checked, no one’s near. Wouldn’t want t’share you with anyone though, would I? Looking like my own little cherry on this dress” his fingers gripped the dress deep, sliding it up and down your waist a bit.

“I missed you so much” you turned around in his hold, arms wrapping around his neck and tugging at the curls at the base of his scalp. On your tiptoes you glued your body to his, closest as you could get, taking in the strong smell of his cologne that made your insides twirl. One of his hands danced down your spine to rest on your lower back, while the other held the back of your neck.

“Oh angel, missed you too, s’much. Can’t go a day without thinking about you, little one.” His deep voice whispered on your ear. Joel firmed his feet on the ground and swayed your bodies slowly left to right, calming you down. “Thinking about holding you, having you with me. About hearing your voice call me from the other side of the house and moan my name when I’m knuckle deep inside ya’”

“Joel!” You snapped his arm a little, staring into his eyes in disbelief.

“Am I lying?” he looked down at you with his rounded brown eyes, the same that could get you on your knees, mouth hanging open, with this exact same look he was giving you now. You shook your head slowly, fingers anchoring his shirt, “know you love it, baby, I love it too. Shit, should’ve found a way to see you earlier. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He rested his forehead on yours.

You distanced your head back and looked towards the living room, checking to see if you were still safe from prying eyes “want more of you,” you whispered.

Joel smirked, “Later baby, ‘kay?”

You stared up at him, no confirmation.

“Hm? Can you be my good girl and be patient?” He held your chin up with his thumb and pointer, forcing your gaze to be on his and nowhere else, “G’na be worth the wait, promise. But you need to be good f’me. Can you do that?”

“I can” you murmured, eyes closing as his hands found your sides and gave them a firm squeeze.

“Know y’can, darling. My best girl.”

🌹🌹🌹

“Shhh, c’mon angel. Know these precious little sounds belong to me only,” Joel’s deepened voice vibrated on your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin and making your head go foggy.

It was a combination of it all, to be honest; his hot mouth and beard on your neck, you only in your underwear and thighs and him fully clothed, his thumbs mercilessly circling your nipples through your bra and his very hard bulge grinding against your pussy and his whole weight pressing you down against his bed.

It started when you both came back to the living room — in separate moments, of course — and then you needed to go the bathroom but the one downstairs was occupied and Joel suddenly needed to check on something very important in his room.

“P-Please, Joel,” you cooed, the pool in your cunt becoming unbearable, your wetness overtaking your poor excuse of panties and messing the front of his jeans.

“‘S okay baby, gonna take care of you,” he gave your mouth a peck, hands releasing your stiffed nipples to hold your face in his hand so his tongue could invade your mouth. “I’ma bad old man, ain’t I? Making my little girl wait for so long to feel good. Fisting my cock the whole week, thinking ‘bout this pussy swallowing me in. Bad, bad man.” you shook your head no in a desperate side-to-side move, fingers gripping his shoulders, as if taking his shirt off, but his force was pinning you down just right.

A sudden grind of his hips into yours and tears pooled on your waterlines, your hands stilling and your throat holding back a moan while Joel groaned at the feeling of his hard cock rocking against you. “That’s what you want, isn’t it, princess? To feel so, so good?” Another desperate nod. “Shh, c’mon baby. G’na make you cum for the week we lost.”

Joel used his hands to lift you by your armpits and sit you against his headboard, lowering his body and dragging your lacy thighs with him, torturously slowly. Now he was face-to-face with your covered pussy, “oh, poor baby. Feel her, angel,” he pressed his thumb up and down your core, your wetness gluing your panties to your slit, overflowing a bit around the lacy edges. “So desperate to be touched, ain’t she? Just waiting for me to take care of her. I will baby, don’t worry. Been such a good little girl f’me. Gonna stuff you full in a minute”

He finally tangled his fingers on the thin stripes of your panties, but first giving the little bow on top of it a little kiss. “My little present,” he murmured, more to himself then to you, but smirking when your core pulsed with his words.

The moment Joel’s fingers slid the lace down your legs and his hot breath ghosted your pussy, you were a goner; all your fuzzy brain could focus on were the strong pressure of his tongue on your clit and his fingers patiently circling your hole.

“Let me in, angel,” he begged and started to push two of his digits inside your pussy, his head now on the level of your cleavage, keeping himself from missing the reaction of his own little Christmas angel being finger fucked by him.

Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth fell open, making a little “o” shape when two of his thick fingers spread you open all at once, making you just so full. “My tight little princess,” he cooed, looking down at your pussy swallowing his fingers in and out, your juice covering his knuckles with each pump, deeper and deeper. The slick sounds of the obscene act you two were dwelling in almost distracted you from hearing Joel’s “who’s pussy is this?”

Instead of answering, your smaller hands held his face and pulled him into a kiss, a very wet, hot kiss, his tongue making home for itself inside your mouth and twirling around your own, teeth grazing at your lower lip hard enough to leave a mark and soft enough to leave you wanting more.

“It’s yours, Joel,” you finally gave him what he wanted, a string of spit connecting the two of you.

“Tha’s my girl.” He curled his fingers to brush at that spot that made your head cloudy and the back of your eyelids starry, pulling the sweetest, most desperate moan from your wet lips (both of them). “And tha’s my pussy, hm?” He watch attentively as your eyes got too hazy and your mouth too open to process what he was saying, “poor little thing, so good can’t even think straight.”

You caught Joel by surprise though, when your hand found his clothed cock, giving your best to grab at it as hard as you could, stroking him with your palm and thumb. Even so lazily, the action drove him crazy enough to lose himself in your neck, fingers still fucking your pussy full and beard leaving marks all over your skin.

Joel allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your hot, pulsing cunt strangling his fingers and your small hand palming his cock to lower his head a little bit, teeth pulling your excuse of a bra to the side (or trying).

“J-Joel,” you plead, the delicate lace of your lingerie ripping like paper in between his teeth.

“G’na get you a new one, love. Lot’s of new ones.” He spent no time, greedily sucking one of your tits into his mouth, tongue languidly abusing your nipple. His mustache hurting the soft skin of the area while his warm spit and velvety lips caressed the burn.

Feeling your pussy pulse and pull him hard, Joel increased the pace of his fingers inside you and directed his attention to your other boob too, his spit lingering all over your chest. “Pussy gripping me real tight, baby, wanna cum, don’t ya? I’ll let ya, c’mon. Cum all over me, little girl.”

And you did. Pussy squirming his fingers and almost making them a part of your own body, lips hanging open with nonsense babble followed by muffled moans and cries, nipples stiff and hard by the overstimulation.

His own little present, as he himself put. All for him.

Joel helped you calm down with sweet kisses to your cheeks and lots of “did so good to me, my little angel”, “missed you having you like this”, “my best girl, makes me so happy, baby”.

“Y’with me?” he nosed at your temple and noticed your eyes turn brighter, the small nod of your head bringing you back to a fully conscious state of mind.

“Open.” he positioned the tip of the fingers that were once inside you on your lower lip, your mouth instinctively hanging open to welcome him inside. “That’s it, ‘atta girl,” he rewarded as you sucked his fingers clean from your own mess, realising why his eyes became so dark with the action.

He hadn’t come yet.

You pulled your mouth from his fingers and kneeled between him and the bed, hands gripping his bulge shamelessly.

“Still gotta clean you up, angel. C’mon, we can do that later. Jus’ wanted t’take care of you.” he held your chin up to gather your attention, a failed attempt, you knew he needed it as much as you.

“‘S okay, I wanna. Just gonna suck on it a little.”

“My sweet girl,” Joel complimented as his palm held the whole side of your face, your bambi gaze distracting him while you worked both his pants and underwear down his legs.

With your mouth only inches away from his girthy, veiny cock that was proudly bouncing in front of your face, you gripped at the thick hairs at his base and gave the swollen, ruddy tip a mouth-open kiss, silky lips enveloping the head while his precum oozed down your tongue and a deep groan left his throat, your fingers gripping his base as your thumbs caressed his balls. You found his gaze again, pulling the most sincere, grateful and innocent look you had.

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

🌹🌹🌹

#AHHH WHO WROTED THAT #ofc lis wrote a christmas fic in april! cause lis is insane! and that’s okay!#don’t know if i love this one #but hey a moodboard! anyway byeee #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro characters #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #my writing

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cohen-stark · 1 year ago

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Honestly my experience in hotd twitter was/is wild. I watched the show when it aired but only interacted with the tumblr fandom. I saw people making gifs of Alicent and actually appreciating her character also people shipping Rhaenicent while doing gifsets, the hotd community here was pretty calm but then I made the mistake of going to twitter (after a year that I didn’t use it) and that was nasty as fuck, people were calling names to Alicent fans, being completely misogynistic, not only being completely obtuse about the character but also trash talking the actresses both Emily (made her leave twitter) and Olivia (the way they talk about her… yikes).

hotd twitter is full of targ stans that behave like football fans, incest lovers, blood purity apologists, delulu dany fans that feel hbo owns them something?, team black fans that bash people who like the green characters every single day. If you don’t love the TB characters and root for them then you “shouldn’t be watching the show”, completely brain rot and not an ounce of critical thinking, not like the community of asoiaf tumblr while GoT was airing. Everything is a fight and god forbid if you say a positive thing about Alicent or Olivia, they will haunt you down. There are no braver people than the Alicent girlies there, ready to face a hoard of insane targ stans, much respect for them 🫡

Being in this welcoming, kind, and supportive pro-Alicent Hightower community here in Tumblr has been great, but has also made me so very delusional, because when S2 airs people on here are going to be all “omg my babygirl with her big brown eyes look at her she’s done nothing wrong in her entire life.”

But then the pro-Alicent Hightower community on hotd twitter is going to be in the trenches fighting for their fucking lives.

#sorry op for taking your post and adding that long rant lol #but i had to 😩#it was a complete shock when i encountered the fandom there #you can’t discuss anything related alicent or TG there without being called rapist apologist misogynist and woman for trump #it’s fucking insane #and don’t let me start with olivia being pro rhaenicent… they’re so sure that she’s part of the lesbian agenda miguel/his wife and ryan had #lmao #like what do you think they would gain with queerbaiting? the show is already famous! hbo does not need the gays #ugh #long tags are long but i still can’t believe the state of that fandom #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #ps: i’m only here for alicent and rhaenyra couldn’t care less everyone else /not sorry

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earthchica · 2 months ago

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Give In

bodyguard! terry richmond x black fem! (Singer) reader

summary: you are a rising singer in need of a bodyguard, and that is when Terry gets hired. Your first encounter didn’t go well; he was a stern jerk while you acted like a bit of a diva. Despite your disagreements, you both eventually found a way to work through your differences.

warning: angst, teasing, enemies to friends, brat behavior, insults, fluff, poetry, explicit smut (18+), dom/sub kinda, oral (f), protected rough sex, ass slaps, nicknames (baby, baby girl, beautiful)

note: so sorry for the wait! I changed the summary a bit to make it sound better. I had a lot of fun writing this. I just hope y'all enjoyed it as much as I did, haha.

Your singing career grew faster than you expected, taking you on an amazing journey to stardom.

However, your new rise to fame has come with pros and cons like stalking paparazzi and crazy fans.

Your manager recommended hiring a private bodyguard. You were initially hesitant, but eventually, you decided to accept the idea.

When you were introduced to Terry Richmond, you couldn't help but think he was the most handsome man you had ever seen.

However, despite his striking looks, he was a complete asshole with a cold demeanor.

For example, at a meet-and-greet photo op, Terry stood at the entrance as each fan walked through.

He patted them down and gave them a rude remark and an intimidating stare.

“Could you please relax your face a bit? And why are you patting them down like airport security? You need to chill; you're scaring all my fans,” You expressed.

"Brenda, where did you find this clown?" You asked your manager, and she tried to reason with you, but you didn't listen.

Terry glanced at you blankly and said, "I'm just doing my job; it's protocol, ma’am,"

“Fucking protocol, this fucking protocol that is it protocol to be an asshole…and what did I tell you about calling me, ma’am? You know, you’re older than me, right?” You asked, and he didn’t respond.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms while patiently waiting for the next fan.

Brenda nudged him on the shoulder and whispered something to him you couldn't hear.

"Look, lady, I'll do my best to appear less intimidating, but I will not tolerate your diva behavior. I'm here to protect you, and protecting your life is serious, which means adhering to protocol. Do you understand?" Terry asked in a softer but still dominant tone.

"I understand, but you need to understand that you are working for me; you can stay on your "protocol shit" but by my rules. Okay," You replied.

“Brenda… I’m sorry, but I can’t work with this,” Terry said, looking at her with frustration, which caused you to look shocked.

"Look at you…running…I thought you were a tough guy, just a clown," You yelled teasing him as he walked out of the room, and Brenda ran after him.

As you talked to your assistant, Chole, Terry, and Brenda walked back into the room. They must have had a talk.

"I apologize for my behavior, miss. I will cooperate with you, but only if you do the same." Terry clenches his jaw, and you smirk, noticing that it probably hurts his ego to say that.

"You know what…It's cool. And fine, I will cooperate," You said, clearing your throat, and oddly feeling slightly aroused.

As the days passed, you noticed subtle changes in Terry's behavior. He started engaging in small talk, asking about your day, and even cracking a joke here and there.

You tried to be less of a bitch and more nice and playful with him. He was still professional but more easy to talk to than before.

Walking together one evening, you paused in front of a quaint little bookstore.

The window display featured a collection of classic novels, their covers slightly worn, as if inviting readers to delve into their pages.

You glanced at Terry, who gave a slight nod of approval, and you both stepped inside.

There weren’t many people inside, thankfully. The smell of old books and polished wood enveloped you, creating a cozy atmosphere.

You wandered through the aisles, your fingers occasionally brushing against the books.

Terry followed at a respectful distance, his eyes still watchful but softer for you.

As you reached the back of the store, you found a comfy armchair tucked away in a corner.

With a contented sigh, you sank into it.

Terry stood nearby, glancing around at the shelves, and you noticed his gaze lingering on a book of poetry.

You pointed it out with a smile. "See something you like, Terry?" You asked curiously in a playful tone.

"Uh," He hesitated momentarily, then picked up the book, flipping through its pages with a surprising gentleness.

"Yeah…I used to read a bit of poetry," He admitted quietly. "It’s been a while."

You nodded, understanding. "Well, maybe today’s the day to start again," You suggested, feeling warm.

“Maybe!”

“Can I ask you what your favorite poem is?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Terry paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "There's one by Langston Hughes that I always liked," He said, voice softening.

“What is it?”

“Uh…The Dream Keeper.' It's about dreams, how precious they are, and how they must be protected and cherished."

You smiled, touched by his choice. "That's a beautiful one. Wow, I wouldn't have thought you would be a guy into poetry."

"Well… that's your problem. You don't know nothing by me," Terry said, a rare, full smile breaking through his usually composed exterior, which fluttered your heart.

"You right…maybe…I should get to know you more on a deeper level." You flirted playfully, looking into his pretty eyes intensely

"How about you? What's your favorite poem?" Terry asked, ultimately shifting the subject.

He was good at that; change the topic whenever you asked about getting to know him.

Terry comes over with the book in his hand and sits next to you. You think for a moment.

"I think I'd have to say 'Phenomenal Woman' by Maya Angelou," You replied as your eyes lit up.

"It's such an empowering piece, full of strength and grace," you continued.

Terry nodded thoughtfully, his fingers gently gliding over the pages of the poetry book.

"Angelou's words have a way of striking right at the heart," He agreed, genuinely interested in the discussion.

“You are a Phenomenal Woman,” He mumbled in a low tone, hoping you didn’t hear him, but you did.

You smirked. “You think so?

“Damn it! nothing gets past you, huh?” He chuckles softly; his little chuckle is music to your ears.

“Do you mean it?” You asked, looking at him, fluttering your eyelashes, waiting for him to respond.

His expression changed from gentle to serious, and Terry stood, stretching a little.

“Let me know when you’ve finished,” He said, glancing over his shoulder as he prepared to walk away, a hint of cold in his voice.

"Wait," You said, stopping him, and grabbing the poetry book from his hand before heading to the front cash register.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his brow furrowed in confusion as he trotted closely behind you.

“I’m getting this for you,” You replied, smiling, handing the book to the cashier.

"As a thank you for cooperating with my attitude. I know it's your job to protect me, and you want to do your job right, but who says we can’t be friends, right?" You added with a smile.

"You didn't have to do that," He said, looking surprised, but a hint of gratitude shone in his light eyes.

"Well, I wanted to," You said simply. Both of you waited for the car inside, and soon, Terry guided you out of the bookstore, shielding you from the paparazzi.

You shivered slightly when you felt his hand on your lower back. The two of you managed to get into the car.

The car ride was quiet, filled with the soft hum of the music and the occasional rustle of paper as Terry thumbed through his new book.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, noticing how his expression softened as he read.

Seeing this side of him was amazing, a reminder that maybe you could get him to open up a little bit.

"Thank you," Terry said suddenly, breaking the silence. "For the book."

You smiled, touched by his sincerity. "Of course, Terry."

He simply nodded in acknowledgment, then turned his attention back to the pages of his book.

As he immersed himself in the book, you couldn't help but admire his caramel-brown skin tone emanated a warm glow under the sun shining from the window, highlighting his essence.

You watched his mesmerizing blend of greyish-blue or perhaps hazel-green eyes, depending on the day, move back and forth through the words.

“You know, it’s not nice to stare,” Terry remarked playfully, glancing up from his book.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he offered you a warm, infectious smile—the kind that lingered in your thoughts long after you had seen it.

You looked away, trying to suppress a smile; this man was going to be the death of you if you didn't do something about it.

As months passed, Terry finally began to share his life before becoming a bodyguard. The more you learn about him, the deeper your feelings for him become.

You now consider him a friend. In public, Terry maintained a professional bodyguard demeanor.

In private, he was like a big teddy bear you couldn’t help but want to embrace.

Although spending almost every day together, there was still a boundary he wouldn’t cross with you, and you wanted him to cross it so bad.

Your first global tour was a complete success. You traveled worldwide, singing and meeting your fans; it was a dream come true.

It was around eight at night, and you found yourself alone in your hotel room, wearing pajamas and waiting for room service.

Out of nowhere, a firm knock echoes through the quiet room. You pause, glancing toward the door, and call out to see who it is.

A familiar voice responds—it’s Terry. You invited him in, and he entered with the room service server.

His reassuring presence stood tall as he watched the server set everything on the table before dismissing them.

"Are you hungry?" You asked, your voice slightly hoarse from the last evening's performance.

Terry caught your gaze, his eyes sparkling with that familiar glimmer.

"No, I’m fine. I just wanted to make sure you got your food," He replied, his tone sweet and sincere.

"Come on, are you sure? There’s plenty to share, Terry," You said, motioning toward the spread of food.

"I guess, maybe just a little," He agreed, pulling up a chair beside you.

You both began to eat in a lovely, comfortable silence, but Terry broke it by asking you something.

"I never really asked you this but how are you managing and feeling all of this?" Terry asked, gesturing to this rising fame.

You shrugged, a small smile gracing your lips. "It's been exciting, anxious. I have my moments, you know that,"

"Oh, I know…you still do, bratty attitude and everything," he said teasingly, but stating facts, you playfully hit him on the arm.

"But I'm trying to meditate and stay grounded, surrounding myself with trustworthy people like you and Brenda."

He nodded, a warm grin spreading across his face. "I'm glad to hear that."

"You're doing an incredible job. It's not easy being in the spotlight all the time." He added, his simple yet heartfelt words warmed your heart.

"Thank you, Terry. That truly means a lot," You replied softly, and he gave you a nod with a smile.

After eating, you and Terry began watching a movie in bed, and you unexpectedly fell asleep.

Your head fell on his shoulder, and you began cuddling against him.

Terry removed you from his arm, got out of the bed, and reluctantly prepared to leave, but you stopped him.

"Where are you goin', T?" You whined sleepily, holding his arm tenderly.

"I should let you get some rest," He said, a touch of remorse in his voice.

“No….wait..,” You said, letting go of his arm and clumsily getting out of bed.

You almost stumbled, but he caught you. You and Terry shared an intense gaze before your eyes shifted to his lips.

You leaned in, lust swirling in the air between you. Just as your lips were about to meet.

Terry stopped you and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his expression serious.

“We can’t,” Terry said, the weight of his words hanging heavily around you.

“Terry, it’s okay. Let it happen,” you said, leaning in closer again, feeling him shift, especially when he didn't push you away.

You kiss his lips softly, and he melts into the kiss, loving the warmth and sweetness of your lips.

Just as you were to rest your hands on his shoulders, a sudden shift occurs, and he gently pulls away, your eyes lingering on his back.

“Fuck, you're making this real hard for me,” He says, moving towards the couch on the other side of the room.

“Terry, don’t you feel this attraction between us? Because I do…I really like you.”

“I-i do but…it’s….”

You moved toward him, knelt before him, and placed your hands on his knees.

“Wrong,” You quietly inquired, your voice barely above a whisper, while pressing your forehead gently against his.

The warmth of your skin is connected with his, creating intimate and intense feelings.

“Because it’s unprofessional, and you work for me. Well, who fucking cares? We're attractive to each other, and we want each other. Let's just say fuck it," You expressed, grabbing his hand and placing it on your exposed wide hip.

You heard his breath hitch as Terry shook his head, trying to resist as he uttered your name, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Come on…Daddy," You whispered softly, heart racing as you just risked calling him that.

Terry tilted his head and grunted his teeth before grabbing your face with his hands and pulling you into a passionate kiss before lifting you up to straddle him.

The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the feel of his hands on your body and the feel of his sweet, soft lips.

A muffled moan leaves your mouth as Terry's tongue begins to dance along with yours.

He pulls away and starts kissing your jawline and your neck before opening your button-up PJ shirt roughly and your breasts popping out.

"You've been driving me crazy, you know?" He asked, squeezing them and sucking them, causing you to let out a moan.

You gazed at him with intense desire; his dirty talk and the hunger in his eyes deepened your arousal by the minute.

Terry had you stand up with him, and you both began removing each other's clothes.

His breath hitched, feeling you unbutton his pants and push them down to his feet.

"Mmmmm, I thought it was bigger, Daddy. This is disappointing, " You said playfully, aware that you were treading on dangerous ground.

You bite your lip while gently caressing his big, throbbing dick through his underwear.

He grabbed your neck roughly and said, "Oh, is it? You better watch, girl. I'll have you begging and crying for it; I'mma have to teach you a lesson. keep playing with me."

And indeed he did.

Terry smiled up between your legs. You were a hot, crying, and moaning mess who should've shut your damn mouth.

This was your third orgasm; he was working out of you, and you were so damn sensitive.

"Look at you, a fucking mess. Shouldn't have been talking all that shit." He says, plunging his tongue between your wet folds again, seeking out your most sensitive spots.

"Daddy, ahhh, I'm sorry, oh fuck right here," You cried, feeling him spread your legs further apart, slowly sliding in one, then two fingers, pumping in and out fast.

Pressure began building deep inside. "Right there, baby girl?" He asked.

"Yes, ahhh yes!" You moaned, feeling your walls start fluttering around his fingers.

A third finger slips in, and in one thrust, your body tenses; in two thrusts, your eyes roll in the back of your head.

"Mmm fuck….I'm close, daddy," You moaned softly, gripping the bed sheets tightly while bucking your hip a little bit.

"Cum for me, baby girl." He says, lapping his tongue through your folds, and the orgasm hits you like a bus.

"That's it, such a good girl. Look at you," Terry says, placing your legs down and kissing your inner thigh.

You look at him hungrily while coming down from your high. You watched him get a condom and stroke his dick.

"How do you want me, Daddy?" "You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Terry looked at you, still stroking himself; the way he was doing it was turning you on even more.

"I want you to ride me, but reverse," He said, going to lie on his back, and you climbed on top, reversing yourself to face away from him.

He held your waist with one hand while his legs were slightly spread apart.

You grip his dick gently and slowly slide down, causing you to let out a hiss, just the tip only was just too much for you.

"What's the matter, baby girl? Too big for you?" He asked, playfully teasing you.

"No, I can handle it; I've had much bigger than this," You said, with fake confidence, which earned you an ass slap.

"Watch it, baby girl," Terry said with a growl, and you moaned, continuing to slowly slide down his big dick until he was entirely in you and stretching you out.

"Okay, good girl, you got through that; go ahead fuck yourself on it, do all the work if you can," He said, propped up with his arms behind his head, and a mischief smirk played on his lips.

Why couldn't you just keep your mouth shut? You told yourself you could've had what you wanted, but Terry was punishing you for your teasing.

You bite your lip and place your hands between his legs, bouncing up and down slowly.

"Mmmm, fuck, there you go, beautiful girl," Terry groaned, giving your ass another slap; even when he's trying to teach you a lesson, he's praising you.

You adapted to his size quicker than expected, bouncing faster, but this didn't reach your wants.

You tried to keep going, but you needed him; you needed his dick, and you needed him to fuck you and take control.

"Daddy?" You cried, shifted to look back at him, and he smiled with his brow raised.

"Yes, baby girl? Is something wrong?" He asked with a bit of amusement in his tone.

"Fuck me, please. I'm sorry. I need you, I need your dick, please," You begged desperately.

"tsk, tsk, tsk. I don't know…have you learned your lesson?" Terry asked, waiting for an answer.

"Yes, I swear, yes." You nodded desperately, and tears began streaming down your face.

"Nah…I don't think you have, but Imma turn this pussy out and show you when not to play with me," Terry said dominantly, grabbing your waist and thrusting up harshly, causing you to let out a moan.

"Ahh, fuck" You moaned, placing your hands on his chest, watching his length move in and out of you.

This was what you wanted to feel him move in and out out of your pussy, skin on skin, slapping, filling the room.

Your breasts bounced every which way while you cried and moaned in great pleasure for more.

"You like that, don't you? You like me being in control and fucking the brat of you huh?" Terry asked as his hands moved to your hips, grip tighter than before.

"Yes, Daddy, ahh, just like that, ahh fuck me." You moaned, grew in volume, on the verge of being screams of ecstasy.

The pleasure that he was giving you felt so good that the knot in your stomach was exponentially reforming with every thrust.

Terry could tell from how your pussy clenched around his dick. You whimper when he pulls out, but you get excited when he says.

"Turn around. I want to see that pretty little face of yours, baby."

You turn your body, slightly shaking, and quickly, Terry grabs you to flip you on your back.

You bit your lip, watching him slide in, and start thrusting slowly but quickly, picking up the pace.

"Fuck, yes, Terry," You moaned, wrapping yourself around him, clinging to his skin and leaving scratches down his back.

He grabbed your hand and pushed it above your head, pressing his entire body weight against you.

"Fuck, you feel so good, and you look so damn beautiful; look at you, ahh fuck" Terry moans, kissing you first before pulling away to grip your waist tighter and watch your breasts bounce up and down.

You gripped his arms, letting out louder moans as he went faster, harder, and deeper than before.

"Tell me this is the best dick you've have ever had," He growled

"Ahh…this-this is the best dick I've ever had, Daddy," You cried out, making him smirk.

"You love this dick, don't you?" Terry asked, pulling out and slamming back into you hard, hitting your sweet spot.

"Yes. daddy. I love it; I love it so much. Fuck, It feels so so good I'm gonna-! " You screamed, arching your back.

"Fuck, that's it. You're so fucking good, baby. Such a good girl, cum for me," He moans, kissing your lips, and without a doubt, you orgasmed fourth time tonight.

This one was gushing out of you, causing Terry to pull out and hit his dick against your sensitive pussy before continuing to thrust back in until he had reached his own mind-blowing orgasm.

Terry pulled you into a kiss and moaned your name. You loved hearing every sound he made; he thrusted once more and spilled into the condom, falling against you.

Both of you remained there, trying to catch your breath. You stroked his back as he kissed your neck and collarbone.

Terry rolls off of you, throws the condom away, and pulls you close to cuddle.

You caressed his cheek and gazed into his eyes; words were unnecessary. There was much to figure out, but that could wait because this moment was worth it.

#terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x black!reader #terry richmond fluff #terry richmond fic #terry richmond fanfiction #aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #terry richmond

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starkeyslibrary · 29 days ago

Text

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 5

pairing: you x drew starkey

The photos were everywhere.

Drew stared at his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen as he scrolled through the dozens of articles plastered with pictures of Y/N, her face streaked with tears, walking alone under the dim glow of the streetlights. The headlines weren’t just cruel – they were brutal: “Heartbreak in Hollywood: Drew Starkey’s Ex Caught in Emotional Turmoil.”

He clenched his jaw, tossing the phone onto the couch. The guilt twisted like a vice in his chest. He couldn’t stop seeing her face in those photos, couldn’t stop hearing the pain in her voice during their last fight.

The late-night outings, the photos ops with Odessa – it all felt so hollow now. Odessa wasn’t to blame: she was a good person stuck in the same web of expectations he had willingly stepped into. But as the PR machine churned on, Drew began to feel like a puppet in his own life, with every decision dictated by what would look good in a headline or keep his career safe. And the worst part? He had let it cost him the one person who had ever made him feel truly grounded.

That night, Drew couldn’t sleep. His mind raced with memories of Y/N – the way she laughed, the way she always knew when he needed to be pulled out of his own head, the way she had looked at him like he was her whole world.

He pulled out his phone and scrolled through their old text messages. Her words stared back at him, filled with love and trust, and he felt the weight of his mistakes even more. How had he let this happen? How had he let her slip through his fingers?

The PR relationship with Odessa had started as a way to deflect attention from his personal life. At first, it seemed harmless – a mutually beneficial arrangement to keep the press off their back. But somewhere along the way, it had spiraled out of control. Every staged photo, every “leak” had chipped away at his relationship with Y/N, and now it was just gone.

He hated himself for it.

Over the next few day, Drew had tried to reach out to her.

He sent texts:

“I need to talk to you. Please.”

“I’m sorry for everything. I miss you.”

“Can I see you? Just once.”

He left voicemails, his voice thick with emotion: “Y/N, I know I don’t deserve it, but I need you to hear me out. I messed up, and I don’t even know how to fix this. But I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. Please, just… call me back.”

When none of that worked, he sent flowers – a smile bouquet of her favorite lilies with a note that read: “I’m sorry. I’ll never stop being sorry. – Drew”

But there was no response. Not a single word.

Drew had found himself in Odessa’s trailer on set one afternoon, feeling the weight of his choices more than ever. She was scrolling through her phone when he walked in, and the look on her face told him everything.

“You’ve seen the pictures, haven’t you?” she asked, putting her phone down.

“Yeah,” he admitted, slumping into the chair across from her.

“They’re bad, Drew. Like…. Really bad. I feel awful for her.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over. “The whole thing.. it’s gone too far. It’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to you either.”

Odessa tilted her head, studying him. “You care about her a lot, don’t you?”

“She’s… she’s everything,” Drew said quietly, his voice cracking. “And I screwed it up.”

Odessa leaned back, crossing her arms. “Then why are we still doing this? If you’re so miserable, end it. Or at least talk to her before it’s too late.”

Drew sighed. “It might already be too late.”

Drew decided he had to do something, even if it was small.

That evening, he showed up at Y/N’s door. His heart pounded as he stood there, holding a carefully assembled basket in his hands.

Inside, he had included everything he knew she loved: her favorite chocolate, a small bouquet of her favorite flowers, a DVD of a movie she’d always turn to on bad days, a scented candle she once said reminded her of her childhood and a handwritten letter.

When the door opened, she stood there, her expression unreadable.

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see,” he began, his voice shaky, “but I needed to come. I needed you to know that I’m sorry. For everything. I don’t have excuses. I just.. I hate what I’ve done to us.”

He held the basket out to her. “I remembered all the things you love, and I know it’s not enough to make up for what I did. But I wanted to remind you that I see you, and I care. I care so much, Y/N.”

Her eyes flickered down to the basket, taking in every item before looking back up at him.

“I don’t know if this changes anything, Drew,” she said quietly, her fingers gripping the edge of the basket.

“I know,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not giving up on us.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving her standing in the doorway, holding the basket and wondering if her heart could bear to trust him again.

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