#but chopper should be fun

[hhhhunty]

Seastone negates devil fruit abilities.

[fxllingout]

cross stitched chopper on 14 count aida cloth with dmc threads. this ended up being 8439 stitches + the outlines!

for my first piece of fanart ever i am really really happy with how this turned out :]

screenshot of chopper i was.... re-cross stitching???? is below the cut

[takato1993]

Muppet One Piece where Usopp is played by Gonzo and Nico Robin summons real human hands.

[xamaxenta]

Ayo Luffy smacking his own ass at lucci is EXACTLY the kinda shit i wanted to see TAKE THE L LOSERCCI 😂😂😂😂🫵

[snckt]

when else are you going to get to be a star war?✨

[ocvelli]

There's a crossover fic where Luffy asks Sera to send him down after deciding that heaven has too many rules (he ends up just jumping down into hell after she refuses)

For some reason he wants Alastor to join his crew forgot why, gonna reread it now

Just wanna put Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) and Luffy (One Piece) in a jar and shake them. Just imaging these two chaotic aro ace in the same room brings me so much joy.

I feel like they would viscerally hate each other if they ever had to meet ahah :'D I drew them reacting to their flag instead! I haven't drawn Luffy in a hot minute damn I missed my boi

Now that I think about it, it's funny how similar yet completely different they are. Luffy's whole deal is about smiling, laughing and make people around him happy, while Alastor's whole deal is also about smiling, but he uses it for control, to hide his true emotions and make people around him uncomfortable/second guessing him all the the time.

Luffy is aroace, but still full of love for everyone, he cares so much and shows so much affection, while Alastor is aroace and mostly touch averse, takes a long time to get attached to people and shows very little affection (or maybe has his own definition of affection idk)

And they both have a weird moral code and hate people in power who uses it to exploit the weak?? Not to the same extend ofc but still, that's an interesting trait they share .

My two favourite aroaces I love them so much 💖

[a-x-ce]

There's something extremely exciting to me about going back to an early pre-time skip crew dynamic (even though I already miss the fuck out of Robin). But starting an arc with Nami and Usopp shenanigans is so fun, I love their dynamic so much. Her claiming he died right in front of him while he swears revenge is so iconic, peak duo material.

[plagasitize]

in retrospect the biggest plot issue with 4 is that the whole plan revolves around a) ash being taken back to the us and b) l.eon succumbing to his infection so why do they keep trying to stop him taking her back ( especially because if he did so immediately he wouldn't know about the parasite ) and then trying to kill him ( instead of waiting for him to succumb ).

[bumpscosity]

If when they add lothal and the rebels crew to star tours im never gonna shut up abt it

[noearchives]

when you're sick...

sanji doesn't leave your side for hours. he only tears himself away from your bed to make you lunch and dinner, and he makes it as quick as possible so he won't have to leave you alone for too long. he's so dramatic- he's clutching your hand like you're on your deathbed even if chopper told him countless times that it's just the common cold. asks if you're feeling okay every five minutes, wondering if he should change the cold towel on your forehead and such. the worst thing is, he can't kiss you when you're sick. when will this torture end?

"don't worry, my love. you'll get well soon in no time."

"the only person worrying here is you, sanji."

zoro knows you're strong, so he doesn't need to worry- or at least that's what he thinks. he tries to act normal, going through his usual workout routine and bickering with the curly-browed cook, but only the attentive miss robin notices how zoro's toned his voice down even when he's arguing so he won't wake you up. when he takes a nap, he sits in the corner of your room so that he can hear you breathe, and when he returns to his usual activities on the sunny, he cracks the door open for just the slightest once in a while so he can check on you (discreetly, so he doesn't look like a creep).

"just admit that you're worried, mosshead."

"shut the hell up, curly."

ace only whines when marco announces that you're sick and that he shouldn't come too close to you. "the two of you, behave. no kisses, no hugs, nothing." marco says sternly as he takes your temperature. ace wants to drop to the ground and kick his feet around like a child throwing a tantrum- but he sucks it up anyways, a pout on his face as he holds a spoonful of soup to your lips. "say ahh," he says, and when you obey, he's back to smiling again. this is actually kinda fun, he thinks as he feeds you spoonfuls again and again.

he ends up disobeying marco's commands, kissing your cheek before you fall asleep. just this once, doc.

law is unimpressed. very unimpressed. he told you to wear an extra layer of clothing when the two of you went out that day. he went as far as offering you his own coat, but you flashed him a grin with a thumbs up, insisting that you're fine. well, look at you now, complaining about how your head feels like it's about to split in half with a raspy voice. "i told you, didn't i?" he sighs, which results in another whine from you. "can't you be nicer when poor little me is weak and feeble?" you say, followed by a cough and three consecutive sneezes. law resists the urge to roll his eyes. he kisses your forehead as he places a cold towel on it with a dissatisfied 'tsk' of his tongue. "poor little you should've worn a jacket if you didn't want to get sick like this."

[innerfare]

You See His Cabin For The First Time  

Summary: You see their cabin (or in Sabo's case, his bedroom at the RA base) for the first time.

Characters: Luffy, Usopp, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, and Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy: He's literally so proud of just his hammock. Insists it can hold the both of you and could probably hold the entire crew if you tried, asks if you want to try, asks you if you’re sure when you say no. Definitely has a couple of dirty dishes that he’s forgotten about, as well as a few wrappers on the floor. Has some fishing poles, a net, quite a few different games, and a bookshelf that’s full of both comic books and snacks so that he doesn’t have to go all the way to the kitchen if he gets hungry in the middle of the night. 

Zoro: Your first thought is, why does it smell so freaking good in here? You expected dirty laundry strewn around and the stench of sweat and maybe a hint of metal from those blades he was always sharpening. And sure, there is a hint of metal in the air, probably more from the many weights against the wall than his swords, but it also smells fresh, like laundry detergent. He has his own wanted posters on his wall- not just the current one, but the old ones, too, all of them lined up in order so you can see his increasing bounty. He also has a collection of unique booze bottles from all over the world, his equivalent of keeping a map with pins in the locations he’s visited. Oh, and there’s an anatomy coloring book and some markers that belong to Chopper that Zoro keeps in his room because sometimes when Chopper is having a bad day, he wants to chill with his dad big bro. 

Sanji: Sparkling clean, and yet, he’ll apologize anyway because the pillows aren’t fluffy enough, the rug isn’t completely straight, etcetera. His closet is very well organized, all of his clothes ironed and properly taken care of (Sanji’s the rare type to actually read labels and do his laundry accordingly). His most prized possession is a book on the All Blue, which he’s poured over countless times, using color coded tabs to flag various pages and writing detailed notes in the margins. He also came across one of Zeff’s old wanted posters in Loguetown, and he keeps it framed next to his own, the closest thing he has to a family photo.

Usopp: You’re surprised to find he has quite a bit of clutter in his small space. He has a collection of different style slingshots and a surplus of supplies to fix them should they ever break, as well as literal boxes full of special stars and ammunition. He has an entire set up rigged on his desk to create more, and some plants in his windowsill to grow ingredients. In addition, his bookshelves are heavy with various collections of fables and tales; he’s working on his own and hopes to publish it one day, but he doesn’t talk about it because he’s worried nobody will take him seriously, and you only learn about it when you see the notebook he left on his bed. He also has a couple of fun hats, crazy sunglasses, and feather boas that he definitely pulls out when the Straw Hats get a little too drunk. Oh, and there’s a picture of his parents on his nightstand. 

Ace: His cabin is pretty sparse because he tends to travel light. He has a collection of animal teeth secured from a menagerie of wild beasts he’s taken down over the years, and he’s very proud of those teeth. He'll tell you about each one if you ask, is practically bursting at the seems with stories. He has way more animal teeth than he does clothing or books. Also has a pretty sick tiger pelt for a rug (he had intended it as a blanket, but he runs so hot he can’t actually sleep with it). He has Luffy’s wanted poster on his wall, and beside it, a note reminding himself to send money back to Dadan on the first of every month. Buried in the chest at the foot of his bed, he has the original ASL flag. 

Sabo: His bedroom at the Revolutionary Army’s base is a total bachelor pad, and when you see it for the first time, it wasn’t planned, so he’s a little embarrassed by the state of it. He has some dirty dishes he forgot about, some dirty laundry on the floor, and a pile of books on his bed. He spends virtually no time there and probably wouldn’t even have furniture beyond a mattress on the floor if it wasn’t provided by the Revolutionary Army as part of his living quarters. That being said, he did pin Luffy’s and Ace’s wanted posters to his wall, and he has a couple of different lotions and skincare products on his bathroom counter. 

Law: You don’t know what you were expecting- would it be sterile like an operating room? You’re surprised to see comic books and a few action figures. He has some records, too- a bit of rock, some low-key emo music- and to your complete and utter surprise, a candy wrapper on his nightstand. And then there’s the coin collection on his desk, tiny pieces of metal he picked up on his many travels. You’re careful not to have a big reaction to his personality showing through for once. 

“I like your action figures.” 

“They’re kind of childish, but-” 

You cut him off before he can dismiss his own interests as dumb. “No, they’re not. They’re cool.” 

Kid: It’s as messy and ostentatious as you’d expect, but he sheepishly tries to fold the leopard-print blanket crumpled on the bed and put some laundry in the hamper, though you quickly deduce he has no clue which clothes belong in the hamper and which go in his closet. It’s shocking to see him care what someone thinks. He has a pile of lipstick and nail polish on his desk and an impressive collection of weapons he’s stolen from various pirates; he could probably open a museum with all the weapons he has. Also has lots of tools he forgot were in there. TBH, he’s probably as shocked as you are by the state of his cabin because he spends most of his alone time in his workshop, anyway. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[cyborg-franky]

Prompt: How would the straw hats react to reader being a mind reader? Please and thanks

Repost of mine from libary of ohara

Sanji Sanji is sweating because every time he has an intimate thought about you or anyone else, he can feel eyes on him. You glare and he fidgets under the intensity of it, wondering if you will blurt out the dirty thoughts to anyone else.

Every time he thinks it’s safe to think about how good the woman at the bar would look without their dress, he has to stop himself, turning with a wide eye and seeing you glare at him while sipping your drink. Just ruins the boy’s entire life.

Usopp Another one who just opens and closes his mouth when you are around because after he lies and tells people these big, impressive stories that didn’t happen. You side up to him and ask him why he lied, you are so casual about it too.

Every time he’s about to lie to anyone, you raise an eyebrow, and he just laughs loudly and pretends like it was all fun and games. Now whenever he wants to talk to someone, he literally looks around to see if you are about

Chopper

He is so amazed! That’s a great power to have! He bounces up and down and is just giddy and asks you all about it. You sometimes read his mind and it goes from dumb stuff like ‘I want candy floss’ to something like complex potions to cure all manner of illnesses.

Robin She terrifies you. She’ll be sat there reading a book or just casually sitting at the bar, elbow keeping he propped up, hand on her cheek, her smile just slyly grows as your eyes do when you read what’s on her mind. She loves to mess with you.

She’ll purposely think of something dark or downright filthyand chuckle softly when she gets the reaction, she wants from you.

Nami Oh, you stopped doing that. You completely turn off your power when it comes to Nami, she can somehow always tell when you are in her head, and she’ll turn around with her hand outstretched and tell you the show was more money than you have.

Zoro Zoro’s mind is boring, it’s full of a collection of very ‘Zoro’ things such as booze, hating Sanji, working out and his swords. Plus, Zoro never thinks anything that he wouldn’t say out loud, he’s no fun and he knows that’s how you think and always smirks and thinks ‘nice try’

Franky Franky’s mind gives you a headache if you stay there too long. His face might often say ‘head empty’ but he is always thinking loudlyto himself and has so many projects flying through his head. So many complex designs, schismatics, maths, it’s all very exhausting for you.

Brook Brook doesn’t care if you read his mind so he’s very chill around you, he’s normally just humming inside his mind, and you hate that he can get songs stuck in your head. Like a constant source of the sound, if he’s not humming in his head, he’s humming out loud or thinking about asking if he should ask someone to see their panties.

Jinbei I imagine it’s very serene in there, like a little koi pond with the sound of wind chimes and you just get lost in there until he stubs his toe or something and it’s like a loud internal scream. Same when any of the crew does something stupid and poor Jinbei has to pick up the pieces.

Luffy “THAT’S SO COOL.” He’ll yell at you. The entire reason you’re on the crew was that Luffy found out you can read minds and he needed that on his crew like right now. He’ll sit there and always go “What am I thinking now?…. and now?… and now!!” and it’s always ‘wow that’s so cool’ or ‘I’m hungry, I’m going to ask them to get me meat…”

[bits-and-babs]

✦ 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 ✦

simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader (delta) | smut, 18+ | 4.1k

summary: you, soap and gaz make a silly bet at ghost's expense for an invaluable prize.

cw: mw3 spoiler free. 141 ridiculousness, humour, attempts to remove the mask resulting in life threatening (not really) injury, mild exhibitionism if you squint, very talkative ghost, 'interrogation' wink wink, unprotected p in v sex, reference to f receiving oral.

ghost mlist | main mlist | taglist

"Y'know, I'm sure as shit that L.t's got brown hair," Soap pipes up in the middle of the silence that had settled inside the safe house. 

The members of Task Force 141 glance up one by one, querying eyes cast Soap's way as the guesstimated observation hangs in the air. It's louder than chopper blades, thudding against your skull and roaring in your ears as you attempt to recall the information you have on Ghost, what little physical attributes you can attribute to him. Each time, you hit a brick wall. The only image conjured in your minds-eye is the black voids of the mask's eyes and the piercing amber of his irises. 

The wind howls outside, battering the windows with Wyoming snow and creeping in through the cracks in the panes. It makes a yowling sound as it slips through the crevices, carrying your memories of Ghost's appearance with it. He truly was like an apparition, there one moment, then gone altogether. 

Gaz's brows crease in the middle, little crevices in the skin showing his mind working over the sentence. 

"He doesn't," he eventually retorts, eyebrow cocked while shaking his head, "He's blonde." 

"What makes you say that?" Price scoffs at his colleague's certainty, "You ever seen his face?"

The silence that follows makes the Captain chuckle. A wordless 'that's what I thought'. 

"You willin' to bet on that?" Soap pushes Gaz with a lopsided smirk. There it is, that ridiculous playfulness that the Scotsman continuously let slip over coms. Simon had once reprimanded him for how it would get him killed– you were almost certain if he continued down this path in particular, he'd be in a box by daylight.

"I am," Gaz counters thoughtlessly, a smug lilt to his tone as he leans the crown of his head back against the rotting wooden wall, "He's got blonde eyelashes. He's gonna have blonde hair."

"What're ya gettin' so close tae him for?" Soap grins wide, loading the new ammunition and hitting a bullseye on the first shot, "You been snoggin' him or somethin'?"

"Lads," Price warns. It's only one word, but it says a lot; 'he'll have your head.' All of you know Simon 'Ghost' Riley well enough to know it's not a joke. Seen enough of the mangled bodies he left behind to know it wouldn't be clean, either. More like he'd hack your skull from your neck, picking out the dullest blade that'd struggle to slot between vertebrae.  

"Bets on, then," Soap continues, white teeth gleaming in the low light, "First to confirm gets the honour of shootin' Hassan between the eyes." 

It's like throwing a match at a body doused in diesel. 

                           ✰

The parameters of this wager are as follows... First: the competition is between you, Soap and Gaz. Price was ruled automatically exempt the moment he admitted he had, indeed, seen Ghost's face. It was a revelation that caused quite a storm- and a promise from Gaz of £100 if he'd tell.

The Captain, quite frankly, told him where to stick it. 

Second: None of you could just ask Ghost himself. That was boring; no fun in that. 

Thirdly, there are no other rules. Acquire the information by any means necessary to claim victory. Perhaps this rule should have been revised- because to say that 141's tactics for getting Ghost to reveal his face were a little unorthodox is an understatement of the highest order. 

Despite his hulking frame, Ghost is like a cunning fox, cognizant of even the slightest changes in energy and hypervigilant of those approaching. The midnight void of his grease paint that frames his eyesockets contrasts the whites of his eyes as they dart back and forth between you all. He appears to have noted the devious scheming, practically hearing the cogs turning in your heads the moment he returned from his watch. Something is amiss, and you know Ghost knows it. 

He says nothing. 

Day One; the grumpy, black-clad special ops soldier sits back in his seat as he crosses his arms over his vast chest, cautiously observing the minute movements the three of you made. He'd bristled when Gaz stood from the sofa simply to enter another room, poised and ready to pounce at whatever fuckery the younger soldier would attempt. 

"Hey, L.t.," Soap's drawl cuts through the humorously tense atmosphere in the room, and you brace yourself for his master plan. "When was the last time ye got a haircut?"

Ghost hesitates. Waits a beat. The silence stretches almost uncomfortably until he answers, thick, bassy voice almost booming in the box room. "What're you playin' at, Johnny?"

Soap shrugs his shoulders, exuding complete nonchalance as he settles into the seat across the table from the hulking mass of man. "Just wondered if the mask ever came off. How do you cut your hair?"

Amusement ripples through you in the sound of a chuckle, both men glancing your way. Ghost peers at you, suspicion pooling thick in his pupils. 

"Shave it," Ghost rumbles bluntly, with an air of finality that leaves no room for argument or for Soap to encourage him to try something stupid like curtain bangs or, God forbid, a mohawk. 

You can't help but grin from ear to ear as you watch the Scotsman's shoulders slump in defeat, already waving a white flag upon seeing how unwilling Ghost is to play whatever stupid game you're all partaking in. Even you can't deny the anxiety that prickles across your nerve endings when you see the way Ghost's biceps flex beneath the camo fabric of his uniform, primed for action. 

When Ghost's aqua irises slide to you, your shoulders shrug comically, putting on the performance of your life to appear as though you had no idea what Johnny was up to. You see the way Ghost's blacked-out eyelids squint in suspicion. He doesn't believe you, but doesn't say as much. 

Day Three and the polite, roundabout tactics had been discarded in favour of the nuclear option. Gaz had tried ambushing Ghost in the shower, opening the door without knocking as if pretending he didn't know the Lieutenant was in there. The door slammed so quickly into his head that an egg had been steadily growing on his forehead for the past hour and a half, blood seeping from his almost certainly broken nose. 

"You'll stay out next time, Bravo 2-6, if you know what's good for you," Ghost had growled through the crack in the door before shutting it with a click of the lock. 

Holding his face and slinking away, mortally wounded, Gaz uttered a humiliated 'Yes, lieutenant'. 

Soap, clearly not having learnt from poor Gaz, decided that the next best option was a trip, so to speak. Executing a ludicrously overexaggerated stumble, Johnny reached out to grab Ghost's mask to 'steady himself' and ultimately drag it from his superior's head. 

Ghost had leapt from his seat with a roar, threatening to send Sergeant MacTavish back to Scotland in a box with the Saltire draped across the lid. The standoff only settled upon Captain Price's barked orders to stand down or hang up the uniform. 

By Day Six, Ghost had bruised your opponent's egos enough that neither Soap nor Gaz dared attempt to peek beneath the mask again. They look at you like you're absolutely bonkers when you finally announce it's your turn to try and tame the beast. 

"Yer fuckin' mad, hen," Johnny grumbled, watching you observe Ghost from across the room. He'd settled on a chair in the corner of the room, ensuring no one could sneak up on him. "You can't seriously be plannin' on-"

"I want Hassan," you shrug, a smile playing on your lips. Though, at this rate, you couldn't care less about the terrorist and the honour of dispatching him. No, Ghost had made this ridiculous game far more competitive than needed, and you planned to win.

"Have fun," Gaz scoffed bitterly, still icing the blotchy green and purple bruise that had welted on his forehead as a medal of dis-honour. You hadn't exactly helped the healing process, poking it harshly with the pad of your thumb as you laughed at his mortifying misfortune. 

You wait patiently for Ghost to move, like a stake out on a mission. Lying in plain sight in a ghillie suit, a sniper rifle pointed right between his eyes and your finger on a hairpin trigger. You wait for him to break, for exhaustion to creep in. Thankfully, you don't have to wait long. The Lieutenant rises from his chair, announcing to 141 that he's headed to bed. 

A quiet mumble of 'goodnight' from each member grants him leave, and Ghost walks out of the room without further word. You waste no time in hurrying to your feet. 

"Are you gonna...-" Soap winces when you stand, trailing off when you start after Ghost, not allowing either of your colleagues to talk you out of this suicide mission. 

Though, the moment you turn the corner, you wish you had. Ghost's broad frame practically fills the narrow hallway like someone had plucked Everest from Nepal and shoved its hulking mass into a matchbox. He's ginormous, his usually silent footsteps causing the aged, rotting wood beneath the soles of his boots to creak with the weight he applies when he turns to face you. 

The dark hallway obscures Ghost's skull-face mask, but a glittering reflection of the golden light bleeding from the bulb in the living room area flickers across the wet surface of his eyes as he observes you. You can't allow the weighty pressure of his stare to phase you if you're to push ahead with your plan- so you step forward, swallowing down the nerves that Ghost's attention inevitably dredges up. 

"Lieutenant, sir," you address him smoothly, voice low as you gaze up at him through your lashes. Ghost's eyebrow arches in response, noting your somewhat suggestive behaviour. "Permission to spea-"

"I'm hopin' you'll tell me what you're all up to," his eyes spear your nerve as he interrupts you, "They're not lettin' up, but I'll get it outta you one way or another." 

"What... Did you have in mind?" You chance, heart slamming up against your chest when you realise just how obvious you're being. It's dangerous- you hadn't planned to be so forward. The idea that he'd be able to read your flirting so soon set off mortars in your veins. 

There's a pause. It dizzies you, throwing your previously sturdy confidence off kilter when Ghost tilts his masked head slightly. He's turning it over in his mind, considering the past few days' events. Then, he turns everything on its side. 

"I know what you're doing," he speaks suddenly, the rich baritone of his voice ricocheting off the walls and ringing in your ears like he's just discharged a round of ammo with each syllable. You jerk upright, standing to attention. 

"I don't know what you m-"

"You want the mask off," he interrupts you again, cutting your pathetic excuse short as he steps forward. It's ridiculous, the sheer size of him as he looms over you. "You lot made a bet."

Another beat. Ghost waits for a response, an admission of guilt. It feels like he's cornered you; every answer that springs to mind is incriminating. You know he can see your rueful expression, wide-eyed and panicked by the ease with which he puts you on the ropes. 

"Was this your plan?" He murmurs, reaching to grasp your chin. His palm settles on the hollow of your jaw, fingers fanning out across the bone. "Get me into bed and see if I'll take it off?"

Trembling in his hold, you whimper as Ghost's thumb stretches across to trace the curve of your lip. It follows the delicate arc, lining the shape of your mouth and trailing the dip of your cupid's bow. 

"'M sorry," you mumble weakly, cheeks hot beneath his touch. Again, you fold beneath the intensity of those honeyed irises. It's a miracle your knees don't buckle when he pushes the pad of his thumb just past your lips, so that it brushes the edges of your teeth. 

"That was your plan. Y'can still give it a try, love. But..." he hums, his voice throaty and quiet and settling in the pit of your stomach. It's embarrassing, the ease with which he figures you out, but his words drip over you, easy and warm, and all you can focus on is the slip of his thumb as he presses the pad against the flat of your tongue. 

"The mask stays on." 

Ghost’s insistence makes you giggle sheepishly and your stomach flip in dread, like a child caught with its hand down a bear trap. Despite the lewdness of him pushing his thumb past your lips, you know that he’s being serious, deathly so. You nod clumsily in recognition of his executive order, and Ghost gently taps the skin of your cheek with his free hand, the soft slap of his palm against your flesh standing your hair on end.

“Go.”

The word hangs in the air for a moment, weighing heavily in the claustrophobic space of the small hallway. It takes a moment for your mind, rendered utterly useless by Ghost’s imposing presence, to understand exactly what he’s implying. Only when he removes his thumb from your mouth to shove you forward towards a bedroom door does his intention become clear.

Oh. Oh!

Scrambling to force your feet forward, they practically float across the threshold of the bedroom door. You can feel Ghost looming just behind you, can practically feel the heat radiating from his chest warming the expanse of your back. Fingers clasp over your shoulder, practically swallow the curved flesh, and shove you back against the bedroom wall.

The force of impact winds you, the air expelled from your lungs swallowed down by Ghost’s lips bearing heavily down upon your own. He’d ripped the mask upwards, the hem of the ski-mask balanced across the bridge of his nose. Simon’s tongue licks into your mouth– intrudes upon the space like he’s kicking down a door, like he’s swallowing the breath he’d expelled from you with his heavy hand. 

Once the dazed dizziness dissipates, you moan in relief at finally getting what you wanted. Ghost’s gigantic paw takes hold of your jaw in a firm grip to fit his mouth perfectly against your own, his swirling fingerprints indenting in the soft flesh there in a mottled bruise. The soft pine he coaxes from you bleeds past your open mouth despite your attempt to suppress the frankly pathetic noise. 

Fuck it, this was worth it– all of it was worth it. The fear of getting it wrong, the anxiety of being caught, the panic that Simon could turn you away… All of it seeps into the darkness in the corners of the room when your superior drags his tongue across your lower lip. It’s though he’s relishing in the taste of the aftershocks of the arousal he sparks between your legs, the dopamine that rushes through you.

“Was this your plan?” Ghost grunts, grasping ahold of the scruff of your neck. Gasping weakly, you’re almost certain your eyes roll back in your head when he uses his harsh grip to steer you towards the bed. “Get me out of my fuckin’ mind so I don’t notice you takin’ off the mask?”

“That’s–” you huff, rendered breathless by Ghost’s intruding tongue, “That’s not it–”

Your pitiful attempt to excuse yourself is made useless when Ghost practically launches you onto the mattress of his bed, the rusted metal frame screaming under the sudden weight of your body. 

“No?” he queries, the usual boom of authority in his voice replaced by something that sounds far more like goading amusement as he places the hefty weight of his palm against your sternum, holding you down and thwarting any attempt to escape. 

He needn’t worry. The last thing you wanted was to leave. 

“Tell you what,” he muses in that smug tone you always hear over the comms, his free hand quick to grasp at the leather of his belt. The buckle clinks in the quiet as he works his fingers over it, “We’ll run through this mission, yeh? See if you can complete your objective, Delta?”

Your retort, or lack thereof, dies in your throat when Ghost pushes his crotch into your own. If it weren’t for the yelp of bliss that the Lieutenant had to smother with his palm, you’d hear the way he’d practically purred when he dragged his cock against you. 

“C’mon then. Try it,” he urged. 

It’s pointless, his mock-support. You just desperately reach for the waistband of his khaki uniform trousers, cockdrunk from the tease of its shape against you. Even in the low light, you can see Ghost’s scarred lips, the way they stretch into a smirk at your desperation. 

“Abandoning mission, Sergeant?” He asks you, unzipping his trousers. “Price’ll be disappointed to know this is all it takes for Delta to go AWOL.”

“Shut up,” you moan into the cold air of the cabin. You can see your breath. “Shut up and fuck me.”

When Simon removed himself from his trousers, making some glib comment about you being demanding, you marvel at the size of him. Girthy, swollen, the ruddy tip leaks precum down the arch of his cock and traces the pulsing veins. He’s rock hard and throbbing, framed by a thatch of pubic hair. 

Fumbling with your own trousers, you awkwardly try to remove them given Simon’s weighty palm still pins you down by your sternum. He watches, a glint in his eye in the low light that would almost embarrass you if you weren’t so focused on the task at hand. 

“What was the prize?” 

“H-Huh?” you stall, mind fried by Ghost’s unexpected line of enquiry. He picks up where you left off, violently yanking your trousers down your thighs and pushing your panties aside to expose your glistening cunt to his prying eyes. 

“What. Was. The. Prize?”

You hesitate for a moment, feeling Ghost’s fingers press against the inside of your thighs as he probes this unexplored territory of you. His touch skirts the areas you want him most, teasing and goading you for more information. “H-Hassa-ahh!”

You barely manage the first syllable of your answer before Simon rests the arch of his cock against your slick pussy lips. His body jerks slightly at the heat of your swollen cunt, the ease with which he can slide himself through your drenched sex. 

“You got to kill Hassan?” he asked for confirmation, his voice unwavering. You wonder how he manages to stay so steady– you’re coming apart at the seams, trembling as the head of his cock bumps your clit clumsily. 

“Yes,” you breathe, eyes rolling back as he continues his laboured, steady torture. His free hand settles on your hip, arching your pelvis up slightly to meet his own. You grind your hips upward against his cock, and Simon expels a soft scoff from lungs, those piercing eyes settled on your contorting expression. 

“Mhmm,” he hums, rolling his hips again. This time it’s even slower, teasing. “A temptin’ reward–” 

Simon is interrupted by the moan that splits your lips when he drags the length of his cock heavily against your clit. It sparks arousal deep in your abdomen, clings to the inside of your thighs wetly. 

Perhaps the disturbance is one transgression too many tonight, because Simon grasps your hips so hard that you are forced to stop gliding over the length of his cock. You pine in protest, but you choke on the pitiful sound when Ghost suddenly plunges his cock inside of you. It spears you open, breaks you apart, and you find your back arching desperately against the mattress. 

The palm that had rooted itself to your sternum flies up to clasp against your mouth, smothering the shriek of bliss that threatened to expose your extracurricular activities to the rest of your squad. You sob through your teeth beneath his life line, tears welling in your eyes as you feel him stretch your walls open to make room for his intrusion. 

You can’t help yourself. You need something to grasp onto, and opt for his wrist above your face. Digging your nails into the inked flesh there, you watch as the pain sparks something dark and twisted in Simon’s pupils, his azure irises swallowed by the expanding blackness.

He likes it. You can tell. His cock arches up inside of you, pushing deep and rocking against something earth shattering inside of you. Damp with sweat already, the skin of his wrist ripples as he tightens his grip on your face, refusing to withdraw from your pussy walls and instead opting for sharp, shallow thrusts that push you up the mattress with each connection of your hips. 

“Fuck,” he spits, using his tight grasp to pull you back towards him. It’s obliterating you, ripping you apart and pushing all your pieces back together in a mangled, jumbled mess. You whimper as you suffer through his brutal pace, marvelling at how good it feels when he consistently spears your g-spot. 

“When would you have done it?” Simon asks you, a little breathless now as he chases the high that begins to build at the edges of your body, tingling and pulsing. 

“Shut up–” you beg him, the low rasp of his voice launching you towards that pleasure that threatens to consume you. Jerking your hips up to meet his, your body mindlessly reacts to the sound of his timbre. 

“Oh, no,” he chuckles, shaking his half masked face. There’s a silver laden scar that stretches across the base of his chin. It matches the one that splits his upper lip to the base of his nose, the ski mask hovering tantalisingly over the bridge. “When?” 

The seriousness of his tone makes your thighs quiver when paired with the sharp thrust he punctuates his question with. Years of training in maintaining a cover-story while a hostage are blown to bits as though Ghost has launched a mortar at your resolve, because suddenly all your state secrets are spilling out of you quicker than you can shove the incriminating words back into your traitor mouth. 

“I’d– Hagh… I’d do it j-just as you’re cummin–hhah!”

“And spoil my fun?” Ghost hums, that heavy timbre licking up your spine and sparking viscous embers at the base of your spine, “Anyone ever told you that you’re very fuckin’ selfish, Delta?” 

You’d offer a witty comment, but Ghost’s angled his hips just right, and your jaw is falling loose to let out a panicked whimper. 

“There it is, shit. Look at you, Sargeant. Fuckin’, you’re so tight–” 

You’re like a slip knot, tightening around him further with each knock of your g-spot with Simon’s ridiculously large cock-head. Prickling tears of bliss threaten to spill over the edge of your waterline, continuing to sting even when you shut your eyes. You’re shaking, trembling beneath his rocking hips as you mewl his name. 

“S-Simon! Fuck–”

Wild, wet squelches of Simon sinking into your soaked cunt echo in your skull as he ramps up his violent thrusts, the springs of his mattress screaming an unmistakable rhythm to anyone walking by. He doesn’t seem to care now though, his eyes zeroed in on your expression like he’s stalking a victim with his sniper scope. Aiming for complete obliteration. 

“C’mon Can feel you squeezin’ round me,” he murmurs, the steady tone he’d offered earlier shuddering slightly as you squeeze impossibly tight around him, coil threatening to snap, “You’re so close, Delta. C’mon, paint my cock an’ I’ll eat you out with my cum in you–” 

                           ✰

“He’s blonde.” 

Gawping jaws drop to the floor at your very simple observation, Soap’s eyes nearly rolling across the uneven, rotten floorboards after falling out of his skull. You can’t help the smug smile that threatens to tug at the edge of your lips, especially given the sensation of Ghost’s eyes boring holes into the back of your skull. 

The awe only worsens when Price gives a subtle nod of confirmation from the corner of the darkened room, crowning you the winner of this utterly ridiculous joust. 

“How do you know?” Gary is as shaken as Soap by the confidence with which you’d offered your final answer, in disbelief as to how you could have possibly obtained it without being maimed, given the egg on his forehead was still throbbing despite days of icing it with the snow from outside the safehouse.

“His pubes are. I assume the curtains match the drapes,” you shrug dismissively. 

The sheer incredulity that flashes across Johnny’s face is utterly hilarious. The smirk that had been threatening to break finally cracks across your lips at the confirmation of your victory. Ghost’s eyes appear to have lazered through your skull, singing brain matter with the ferocity of his scowl. Frankly, you couldn’t care less– you can see it in your mind's eye; the gorgeous contrast of a blood-red crosshair settling across Hassan’s forehead, the weight of the trigger beneath your finger as you pull it back.

cod mwii/kinktober taglist:

@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk

@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57 @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @tusk89 @bellasbees01 @dog55teeth

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒 .

# with black leg sanji.

returning earlier from the crew’s usual strolling through the newest island, you’re startled to witness sanji viciously lapping his tongue at a stolen tangerine. pitying his position, you allow him to have a taste of the real thing.

⎰ & afab!reader. smut (mdni!). oral. slightly sub!sanji. he eats you out like he’s starving. no y/n used.

W.C: 3K

when you decided to announce an early retreat to the sunny, much too dizzy to withstand the island’s scalding heat and deciding the most suitable course of action would be to seclude yourself within the cooler walls of the ship, the last thing you had expected was to find sanji in such a compromising position.

minutes previous to that encounter, you were quite frustrated. the shore town was a beating heart of commerce and people, filled with opportunities to find useful acquisitions to oneself. you were looking forward to a shopping-filled afternoon; to observe nami’s wits in action — her bargaining that was nothing but diplomatic theft — and listen to chopper’s ramblings about the books he managed to find. of course, the midday sun and its ruthless warmth had ruined it all, meaning that a day of privacy with sanji was the second best thing.

he had been the one assigned to watch the ship while the rest of the crew explored the town. considering the high temperature and his never-ending will to be of use, you had no doubt that the cook could be found in the kitchen, slicing up fruits to prepare delicious cocktails. hence why you followed the scent of tangerines, growing slightly puzzled. he was one brave man — or a suicidal one, you could not quite decide — for picking up nami’s tangerines when she was not around.

you should have knocked, truly. it was a mistake not to have done so. but you hadn’t cared much for courtesies whatsoever, eager for a refreshing beverage and perhaps the chance to share a pleasant conversation with the cook.

upon entering the kitchen, you were expecting to be met with ice and diced fruit, yes, but not under those circumstances.

half a tangerine was placed on the counter, as well as a glass cup with a singular and melting cube of ice. sanji busied himself with the other half of the fruit, swirling his tongue around the middle, his chin dripping with its juice, which caused you to clench around nothing; your legs forcing together as you observed the scene without a word.

after hearing the opened door, sanji froze in place, moving his head to catch a glimpse of the intruder as though he was experiencing the most terrifying seconds of his life. his shoulders slumped with a temporary sense of relief as he noticed your figure, before his entire frame threatened to burst up in flames out of embarrassment.

you cleared your throat, forcing a rough snicker in an attempt to lighten the shared atmosphere. then, finding yourself a seat, you grabbed the tangerine with one hand, placing the other on your chin. “having fun?”

although not aflame, sanji was as red as that one clown-pirate’s nose, averting eye contact as he placed the tangerine on the sink and searched for a cigarette. it became clearer that he had no courage to meet your eyes, stressing over the consequences of that endeavor. your glance, however, was tethered to the positioning of his fingers above his half of the tangerine, noticing polished and short nails, the well maintained hands, for a cook of his caliber could not indulge in carelessness.

the saliva sent to your dried throat was a fuel to a forest fire, rather than a soothing rain to a desert. your treacherous mind flashed sinful scenarios of those fingers. your juices of pleasure tainting them, warmth enveloping its skin as he curled them close to your sweetest spot before shoving his fingers into his mouth, loyal to his personal code of never wasting any food—

“pearl of my life,” he began at last, sounding a bit hesitant, yet calmer. “i can explain.”

sanji’s voice grew rougher due to the cigarette between his lips. inhaled nicotine that traveled past his vocal chords to settle on his lungs before he expelled them through his nostrils. you found yourself at a loss for words, wondering how one could differentiate the intonation of desire from the consequential coarseness of smoking. was there even a difference? oh, how desperately you wished to find out.

the cook seemed to have misinterpreted your silence, all of the sudden growing anxious, searching for a lighter despite not having finished his first cigarette just yet. luckily, for the both of you, the oven filled in the gaps with a repetitive beep, informing that the dish he had prepared was set to be served.

the scent of one of your most favored desserts danced around the talons of smoke from sanji’s unfinished cigarette. he smashed the tip of it against the ashtray, and hid his hands from your luscious eyes with the kitchen gloves. sanji had to bend to remove the sweet treat from the oven, offering you a clear sight of his butt and the powerful muscles of his thighs, strained against the fabric of his pants. as if hypnotized, you observed, with a certain hunger — for both the dish and the cook — as he then moved towards the counter.

sanji, at last, faced you. “a bargain, mon sirène.”

you raised an eyebrow with an expression of pure confusion, having your next words swallowed by hushed explanations as sanji’s composure crumbled, no longer bearing the weight of your silence. he knelt and encapsulated your hand with his, assuming a pleading tone.

“i thought i’d have a tad more time for myself, you see. at first, i was merely preparing you something sweet, planning to welcome you back with the luxury you deserved, but then my thoughts trailed entirely to you—”

sanji cleared his throat, the gears of his mind turning as he searched for a better explanation. “we’re discovering more of the new world, and oh, my golden star of the open seas, not a thing will ever be able to diminish your brightness and influence over my beating heart—”

“sanji,” you voiced softly.

“but, you see, what if a lady ever so happens to reciprocate my passion and desires? how could i live up to what she deserves? by training, of course—”

“sanji.”

“and oh, well, i meant to prepare tangerine cocktails to ignore those thoughts. but the fruit does resemble a woman’s intimacy—”

“sanji.”

“or so i heard. from zeff. i never had the honor of verifying it myself—”

“sanji!” you interrupted his ramblings, caging his face with your hands, not at all surprised by the high temperature of his skin.

the cook was a passionate man, with a heart that had been dipped in molten gold; filled with nothing but love and the urge to please. but you hadn’t fallen prey to fantasies of his embrace due to bashful flirting, well-pondered gifts and delicious dishes. though those were of aid, sanji, while clueless, managed to become the center of your affection because of his endless kindness, the infinite will to help those in need, those alluring and prestative eyes that never failed to brighten up in your presence.

processing his previous words, and the reasoning behind the decision to train his tongue with a fruit, you felt as though a sharp blade toyed with the fragile skin of your heart. the mere thought of witnessing his care delivered to someone else — a stranger at that — was both vexing and painful. for a second, under the burning and expectation-filled glance of his, you struggled to maintain your thoughts linear. what was needed for him to keep his attention focused on you, and you alone? the answer came with such easiness that you felt a bit ashamed.

sanji squeezed your hand, as if to tether your mind to the instance at hand. with a clear of your throat, you offered him a sympathetic glance.

“i’m not zoro,” you told him, aiming for a reassuring tone. “embarrassing you for the sake of having the last word isn’t something i’m interested in. if you want me to keep this interaction a secret, i will. no bargaining needed.”

he observed you as if the moon was kept in a pendant wrapped around your neck. for a second, your very name escaped from your mind.

“i have always known that you were as kind and merciful as a heaven sent angel. i’ll make sure to return the favor.”

oh! you were surprised that he caught on your desires. sanji was observant, but you were obstinate to a fault and thought that your behavior had been one of composure. well! at least you wouldn’t have to take the first step. he’d be the one to slide down the material of your shorts and panties and guide your hand to his blonde hair and—

sanji got up and moved towards the dessert, scanning the kitchen for the scarce fine cutlery in order to serve the sweet with a noble-worthy decoration. you shoved the revolt that surged due to the distance, mouth agape in both embarrassment and bewilderment. without a second thought or an ounce of patience, you gathered up the courage to act.

“you know, sanji,” you hummed. his sudden straightened posture made you feel a bit wicked, for he behaved as though a deer caught in the woods at the intonation shift of your voice. “if you wanted to practice, you could’ve asked me.”

the cherries he was carefully piling up on the plate crumbled like a house of cards. his nervousness was palpable. sanji turned his head towards your figure, face adorned with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“mockery isn’t a kind act, my seastar,” he said, voice strained. “but i would have forgiven you for committing even the most violent crimes.”

you blinked, straightening your posture. a bit disheartened, for he seemed unable to believe that you were capable of nurturing a genuine desire for him.

“sanji, i mean it. it would be my pleasure,” literally.

sanji shifted his entire body, facing you with certain hesitation. his adam’s apple bobbed up and down as his glance trailed to your lips; then to your breasts; then glued to your crossed legs. his pupils dilated.

with careful steps, as if fearing that a sudden move would tear him from what he believed to be a dream, sanji approached you. the cook breathed in, trembling with nitid nervousness and excitement.

“how do we—should i kneel? i don’t—”

somehow, both his innocence and lack of experience managed to soothe your own nerves. although sanji seemed a wreck, your confidence grew as you tapped a finger on the dining table.

“would you mind if i sat on it?”

he flushed immediately. “what?”

sanji then noticed his error, clearing his throat and gripping a fistful of his hair with an apologetic expression, almost as if expecting a reprimand.

you merely smiled instead. “i can sit on your ‘it’ later, but you should learn the basics first.”

he nodded with fervor, observing with certain desperation as you sat on the edge of the dining table, parting your legs with ease; beckoning him closer.

sanji remained glued in place as though a statue, stunned to a fault. “would you get on your knees for me?”

his reaction was immediate, and the sound of his bones meeting the wooden surface of the ground made you wince for his sake. if the impact caused him pain, sanji didn’t express it. instead, he crawled closer, his breath fanning above your thighs.

“don’t feel forced to do it,” he stuttered at last, offering you the chance to halt.

“this is the part where you remove my shorts,” you instructed instead, and his fingers eagerly worked to unbutton the piece of clothing.

with a raise of your hips, you aided him in the task at hand, watching sanji drool at the sight of your drenched panties. it was endearing, but the lack of contact was maddening.

“you’re allowed to touch me.”

“where?”

“everywhere.”

he placed a careful hand on your thigh. with a groan, your fingers encouraged him to squeeze the tender flesh, and so he did. sanji approached your clothed cunt, his hot breath fanning above the sensible spot. you shivered in anticipation, gripping the blonde locks of his hair with non-thought strength.

before you managed to apologize for the harshness, sanji moaned, latching his mouth to your core. his tongue lapped at it as though a beast, carrying nothing but desperation, with no regards for the piece of cloth that separated you both. you let out a yelp of surprise, breathing heavily at the contact.

“sanji,” you whined, pressing his nose to your folds. “the p-panties.”

he understood it well enough, moving his face afar, nimble fingers tugging on the straps. you raised your hips to help him, and watched as sanji sniffed the material before shoving it inside his back pocket.

sanji trailed his eyes to your cunt. a broken whimper tore through his throat. “where is it?”

“what?”

he flushed, pressing one of his fingers at your slick entrance. you shuddered, and his face inched closer, a temptative kiss pressed to your middle. sanji’s visible eye caught on whatever he seemed to be searching, and his tongue followed-in-suit. he circled the muscle around your clit, slowly, as if testing out the waters.

you tugged on his hair. “faster. use your fingers as well.”

he hummed, sending a wave of vibrations through your core. an involuntary noise escaped your lips once sanji inserted two of his fingers inside. removing your hand from the one he had above your thigh, you gripped his wrist, correcting the angle.

“it’ll hurt less for you,” you explained, and sanji hadn’t even answered, too lost on your pussy to pay your words any mind. he was reacting to your instructions due to mere instinct.

sanji’s lips closed around your bud, sucking on it before he used his tongue to lap at your folds, moving it up and down. you arched your back, controlling the speed of his wrist until sanji caught on it himself, dominating the field.

as he moved his jaw, you felt the roughness of his goatee caressing your warm flesh. “scissor it.”

he obliged, alternating his movements. sanji removed his fingers until the nails, only to insert them again with your desired speed. he curled them inside, exploring your intimacy with his touch while he busied his mouth with your clit and folds.

the hand once placed on his wrist returned to the counter’s edge. you gripped it without much thought, eyes trailed to sanji’s face in between your legs. he interlocked his free fingers with yours, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your palm — aching due to your previous grip —, coating your hand with saliva as well. your juices dripped down his chin and glistened on his nose.

“don’t hurt yourself, bien-aimée,” sanji whispered, tears of glee pooling in his pleasure-wide eyes. “hurt me instead.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but the protest melted into a broken moan as sanji spat on your cunt, replacing the fingers inside with his tongue. he whimpered at the taste; his thumb drew circles around your clit, while the longer fingers busied themselves with your folds.

your legs trembled, and your fingers tightened on his hair. sanji’s mewl of pleasure lost itself within your cunt, his thumb pressing harder on your clit as he plunged his tongue deeper, angling his head as if he was trying to devour you.

“l-left,” you told him through a broken moan, seeing stars when his tongue managed to reach a particularly sweet spot.

you felt the built pressure that indicated the nearing of release. sanji parted his face from your cunt for the briefest of moments. softly, as if handling a luxurious and delicate piece of golden cluttery, sanji grabbed a fistful of your thighs with both of his hands, dragging your body closer. your back met the wooden surface of the dining table, and before you managed to ground yourself, sanji had guided your fingers back to his scalp, allowing you to force his face into your pussy.

two fingers stretched you as he bit on your clit, soothing it with his tongue afterwards. you arched your back against the table, toes curling with pleasure.

“so good,” sanji moaned with desperation, his voice mingling with the wet sound of his fingers working on your cunt.

you felt him hump against nothing, nose teasing your folds, and kicked his sides meekly, searching for his dick. sanji caressed your ankle before guiding it to rest on his shoulder.

“ma belle,” he mumbled, kissing your leg, dragging your essence through your skin. “don’t worry about me.”

he fastened his pace, sucking on your inner thigh as his fingers led you to the heavens. you saw stars. your eyes rolled and your mouth parted to give way to a scream, yet your voice failed. somewhere amidst that cloud of pleasure, you caught the sight of his figure towering over your own, one hand grabbing your breast as he pressed his lips against yours. sanji’s tongue invaded your mouth and the taste of your essence, combined with the movement of his fingers, led you to the edge.

your climax came accompanied by a broken moan, diligently muffled by sanji. again, he knelt, removing his fingers lick at your leaking hole, swallowing as much of your cum as he could. you squirmed due to the overstimulation, tugging on his hair to force his face away from your cunt.

“too much,” you whispered, observing the ceiling while coming off from your high.

sanji’s clean fingers caressed your cheek, and he supported your weight once you gathered the will to sit. he pressed loving kisses to your neck, mumbling compliments against the skin. your eyes landed on his softening cock, the wet patch indicating that he came undone.

you tugged at the waistband of his pants, beckoning him closer. your fingers toyed with the zipper, and sanji shivered, his hand trembling where it laid above your hip.

“there’s no need to repay me, mrs. princess,” sanji voice out softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “it was enough a pleasure to get to touch you, and your dessert—”

“i want it,” you interrupted, grinning with newfound confidence. “and besides, it’s your turn to teach me, isn’t it?”

sanji had to resort to a tangerine before tasting the real thing. luckily for the bananas, you managed to dodge the same fate.

— 🐈‍⬛ : this was actually supposed to be about teaching him how to kiss. and then i had ten tangerines for dinner and thought “waiiiiit it does look like a pussy” and boom, 3k words. i ended it with humor because i need to be funny at all times, otherwise i die. it’s a medical condition!

[xxchaosjojoxx]

OP Men got hit by the truth-truth fruit

A/N: first time writing for Zoro and Killer and i hope you like it. Maybe they are a little ooc but why not owo. Enjoy. I added Zoro for @penkura and Killer for @sheerxfiction to cheer them up. (They always cheer me up with their writing <3)

Sure you could do better than this. You could enjoy the nice weather with your crewmates. Eating some delicious dishes, chilling on deck or even exploring a town when you get a chance to dock on an island. But no, you have to fight this random pirate crew who decides to try to rob you. They were no match for you or the rest of your crew. Every single one was capable enough to defend themself.

As you kicked the weapon away, the big man who sneaked up on you, was retreating. He yelled towards his crew to retreat as well. They jumped on their ship and departed. You could only let out a sigh. Finally you have peace again. As you were about to go back inside to grab a snack you heard some of your crewmates screaming out. You turned around just to see a giant shining orb flying towards you. You couldn’t even try to evade anymore, but that wasn’t necessary at all. As your teammate and long-time crush was standing in front of you, blocking the attack. The orb touched him and he fell on his knees, trying to catch some breath. You couldn’t help but scream his name.

Zoro

“Oh no, Zoro.” As you were about to stand beside him he stood up and looked at you. “Why do I have to fall for a clumsy idiot like you?” He huffed and you couldn’t help but blink. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

You shocked your head and as Zoro heard the laughter of his crew he looked at them with an angry expression. “What’s so funny?”

Lysop and Luffy couldn’t help but laugh louder. Even the rest were smiling. “You just confessed your feelings towards y/n.”

Zoro's face went bright red. “No way…”

You were shyly looking at the ground. “Did you lie back there? And why did you even say it in the first place?”

He looked at you and was shouting. “Why should I lie? Is it so hard to believe that I am capable of loving someone?” He quickly covered his mouth and was sweating by now.

You couldn’t help but look at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t even mean to say it. Chopper help.” Your crewmates were basically rolling over the floor while laughing out loud, except Robin and Chopper. Even Sanji couldn’t help it. “Seems like a devil fruit power…”

Chopper hummed. “I’m not sure if I can do anything about it.”

Robin was still smiling. “Seems like you have to wait til the effect wears off. In the meantime we can ask you some questions, just for fun.”

The day went on as your crewmates asked Zoro all the questions they could think of. Zoro on the other hand tried to hide and fight them off. He wanted to sleep and be alone, especially after he confessed his feelings for you like this. But there was no escape. This crew is way too persistent. “What do you think about Sanji’s Dishes?” - “They are the best things I’ve ever eaten.”

“Do you really hate Sanji?” - “I’m not so sure. But I admit that he is loyal and capable.”

“What color are your underwear?” -” They are mostly black. But I’ve found one with a cute puppy on the backside.”

They just had way too much fun and later on he could retreat towards the crows nest, resting and being alone for once. This was until you climbed up and were sitting beside him.

You smiled at him as you decided to sit down. Zoro broke the silence by looking at you while speaking. “I’m wondering, why don’t you ask me anything? I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

You looked at him, fiddling with your hands. “I have but, I don’t wanna hear them like that. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“If you wait until the effect wears off, there might be a chance that I will lie to you.”

You nodded. “You will tell me the things when the time is right. I’m sure of it. Plus I’m pretty sure, telling me like that wasn't the best way, right?”

Zoro smiled at you, and your face felt warm. “You’re right. That’s why I like you, I suppose.”

Law

“Law, NO!” You kneeled beside him and tried to support him. “Why didn’t you use your shambles?”

He locked at you with an annoying look on his face.

“Because I was stupid. I can’t think straight when it comes to you.” He blurted out and covered his mouth with his tattooed hands. You tilted your head in confusion, like the rest of your crewmates. “W-Wha...What? Why do you say something like this?”

He tried to shut his mouth, but it was no use. “Isn’t it obvious? It means I like you.”

Again he tried to cover his mouth. He stood up and ran inside the Polar Tang, leaving your crewmates and especially you speechless. Did he just confess his feelings towards you?

“What just happened?” Penguin asked and you could hear them mumbling and rambling, until you heard Jean Bart talking. “I heard of it. This might be the power of the truth-truth-fruit. Everyone who got hit by it, needs to be absolutely honest for the next 48 hours.”

“So we just need to wait 48 hours? Doesn’t seem like a useful ability, I mean that even won’t harm people.” Shachi said with a grin but Hakugan shook his head. “I wouldn’t say it like that. Being absolutely honest, could harm people. Captain is not in the right mind to lie but he can’t stop himself from speaking as well.”

Ikkaku nodded. “Hearing the truth is not always the best. It might be pretty hurtful to hear some things. Plus it can create chaos, as you can see.” She said and was looking towards you.

As time passed, Penguin, Shachi and Bepo tried talking to Captain. But he was shutting himself inside his room. Telling them to “shut up for once, you guys annoy me sometimes” even so he didn’t mean it that way. He knew what was wrong, they told him. And he also knew that they tried to comfort him. “Please just leave me alone. I can’t control myself right now. I don’t wanna say things that might hurt you. Please leave me be at least til the effect wears off.”

“Especially Y/N?” Penguin asks and he could hear law groaning on the other side of the room. “I’d love to see her.”

“So that’s a ‘Yes, Y/N shouldn’t be near me for the next 2 days’, got it captain.”

Shachi said with a little laugh.

Of course you knew it would be better to leave him alone, but you wanted to know if he really was honest with you back there. Did he really like you? Like more than a friend perhaps? You need to know and you were sneaking towards his room. With a gentle knock on his door, you got his attention. “If that’s food, you can leave it here. I’m not that hungry right now.”

“It’s me, captain.” - “Y/N I am happy to hear your voice, but I thought we said, no visits.”

You gulped. “Yeah but I need to confirm something.”

“And what is it?”

“Do you really like me?”

It was silent for a second. “To be honest, I love you.”

You felt a blush on your cheeks. “W-Why didn’t you say so sooner?”

“Because I’m afraid that I might lose you, if I show you how I really feel. No matter if you reciprocate my feelings or not. I already lost way too many people I love.”

“Would it change anything If I would say that I love you too?”

“Y/N, leave please otherwise I can’t control myself.”

“You don’t have to be afraid. I will stand by your side and protect you no matter what.”

“That’s not the problem.”

Before you could ask him what he means by that, he shambled you right in his arms. Hugging you tightly. “If you really love me as well, how can I ever let you go?”

“L-Law” you said while stuttering. “You don’t mean it like that…right?”

He looked at me with his golden eyes and smiled softly. “I could never lie to you. Especially not now. And I really wanna kiss you right now.”

Penguin

“Penguin, hey. Why did you do something stupid like that?”

You shaked his shoulders. Suddenly Penguin was looking at you and smiled. “Because I am stupidly in love with you.”

“There’s no time for jokes. You could’ve died.”

“I will die without your love.” You blinked a few times.

“Are you nuts or did you hit your head?”

“I’m completely honest there. I can’t stop it.”

While you two were arguing back and forth, Law was scanning him. “Seems like he is right. Hey Penguin, did you steal Shachi’s sandwich last night?”

Law knew Penguin did it, and this was the fastest way to confirm that he got hit by a devil fruit ability.

Shachi asked him this morning and he denied it.

“Yeah and it was the best sandwich he ever made.”

Shachi went over to him and punched him on the head. “I KNEW IT!”

“What’s going on here, Law?” You asked and Law smirked. “Seems like Penguin can’t help but tell the truth. I could try to remove this effect, but I am sure it will only last for a few hours anyways. Plus I might be interested in hearing some truthful answers. Like what happened a few months ago in the surgery room.”

He glared at Shachi and Penguin. “Like we said, captain. Nothing.” Penguin tried to speak but Shachi covered his mouth. They fought for a few minutes, til Penguin could speak freely. “We played hide & seek. And we bribed Bepo with ice cream so he wouldn’t tell you.”

Let’s say the following minutes were pretty interesting, while Shachi and Penguin got enough lectures for a whole month.

When dinner was ready you were looking at Penguin. “Say Penguin… are you really in love with me?” You had a blush on your face and even Penguin couldn’t help but blush.

“Of course I am. It’s so hard not to fall in love with you. You are so pretty and funny and I wanna shower you with all the love and praise that I could ever get you, but I want someone to punch me so hard, so I could be knocked out. I feel pretty embarrassed now to be honest. If you keep looking at me like that, I have to jump on the desk and kiss you.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him in disbelief. Your face felt hot and you couldn't comprehend everything he said. “Cringe, dude.” Shachi said and smacked him.

“Thanks Shach.” Penguin sighed while the rest of your crew snickered.

He was looking at him directly and you could see his eyes clearly. “Is it ok for you, if I jump on the desk to kiss you?” He asked and waited for an answer. The moment you nodded and he was about to jump, Law was kicking him mid air. “First of all, we want to eat in peace and not seeing you two lovebirds. Second, don’t jump and stand on a desk.” You rushed over to him and gently touched his head. “I guess you knocked him out for good, captain.” You said and were glad that he returns your feelings. And maybe you can ask him on a date whenever he wakes up again.

Killer

“Killer. Is everything ok?” He turned his head towards you and nodded while standing up. “Yeah, despite the fact I need to shit.”

It was silent for a while. “What?” you asked in disbelief. “I ate too much of this chili and now I need to shit. I wanted to go earlier but then these idiots attacked us.”

You blinked. Your captain Kid was the one who broke this weird atmosphere. “Haha Killer. Did you finally realize saying everything out loud is the best way?”

Killer looked at him. “It’s not, but I was just answering y/n question.”

Kid groaned at him. “You’re not fun at all.”

You touched his arms. “Are you really ok? You seem different right now?”

He gently held your hand and you couldn’t help but blush.

“I’m glad that I was able to protect you.”

You gulped. You were pretty sure that something was different so you decided to ask him once more.

“Why did you protect me in the first place?”

Killer tilted his head, while caressing your hand with his thumb.

“Why shouldn’t I protect the person I adore?”

“YOu … adore me?”

He nodded. "Yeah, of course." I tried many times to approach you, but I guess I was too afraid.”

Kid was yelling. “The fuck is wrong with you? Can you stop this lovey-dovey shit? That’s disturbing.”

“The only thing that’s disturbing is the way you speak Eustass.” Killer said calmly and your crew was busy enough to hold back your captain, who was about to rage.

You couldn’t help but stare at your raging captain. The only things you could hear were words, you didn’t even know til now.

“I can’t stop answering with the truth it seems.”

Killer said with a calm tone as you looked at him again.

“While I’m in this state I should probably do it now. Say, y/n, would you be interested in going on a date with me the next time we dock on an island? I would love to treat you to a nice dinner and a walk afterwards.”

While Kid screamed and yelled things like “Are you fucking kidding me? I thought your name is ‘Killer’ not ‘Vanilla Boy’ you asshole” you nodded and smiled lightly at him. “I would love to, to be honest with you.”

“I’m glad.” He said and released your hand. “If you excuse me. I really need to use the bathroom and maybe let Kid punch me after this for once.”

[heartsforseo]

Straw hats with a member who was formally a celestial dragon's sl@Ve.

A/n: hehehe I always come back... *Insert the afton's bg music* request=?? requested: <yes> <no> wc: 1,140 warning: I only write for fun so grammar could be back. + some ooc?

⭑You found it incredibly challenging to open up to others due to your reserved nature. Despite hoping that Jinbe's arrival would provide an opportunity for conversation, your shyness prevented you from engaging with him. Thus, when a celestial dragon attacked the sunny and remembered you, the entire crew was taken aback by the unexpected turn of events.

⭑Luffy would be SHOOK amid the battle and pause for a bit.

⭑He'd turn and look for you, looking for an affirmation.

⭑Would shout your name a million times until you say something.

⭑When you said yes he'd have mixed feelings (sad and mad generally). Questions would start popping up, leaving him wondering why you hadn't said anything from the beginning.

⭑After he's done with the celestial dragon, he'll drag you and push you to talk.

⭑After your explanation, becoming the pirate king and destroying all the celestial dragons would give him more reasons to do so.

⭑Zoro wouldn't hear about you being a slave. He's either lost or focused on eliminating the marines guarding the boat.

⭑So when he returned to the ship and noticed the uncomfortable atmosphere, he would be perplexed and ask what had happened.

⭑He's not good with words and comforting so he'll just shrug about it.

⭑But he'd still be worried of course. He'd mutter "You can talk to me when you need someone, you know?"

⭑You turned around, making sure that he said it. But he'd turn and walk away.

⭑He's blushing inside and out so I hope you'll take his words seriously!

⭑Unlike Zoro, Nami would be mad AFFF.

⭑She's not just mad at the celestial dragon but also you! The Straw Hats are a family, and there should be no secrets.

⭑Big sister mode activated: When you need to open up, she will be there to provide comfort and gently guide you through the process. She will support you by holding your hand and ensuring that you feel safe and supported every step of the way.

⭑After you're done explaining, she'd try to distract you about the past and would do shopping with you and Robin.

⭑Would def give weird stares to the celestial dragons the crew would meet.

⭑She's now your therapist so congratulations!

⭑Poor Ussop. Boy was already pissing then he found out about your situation.

⭑He'd feel sad after the argument. He never realized something major had happened to you before! I mean, you know how to hide it…

⭑Tried to assist you by offering you coffee and gave some words of encouragement.

⭑For example: "At least you're with us now..." or "That's alright, it was all in the past now."

⭑At one point, he was so worried that he accidentally splashed Zoro's shirt with the coffee he was supposed to give you, causing them to bicker.

⭑It earned you a little laugh, and with that, Ussop was already happy.

⭑Sanji, on the other hand, would pause on what the celestial dragon said.

⭑Whether it was true or not, he directly attacked the celestial dragon.

⭑No female should ever go through that pain. Even if he hadn't experienced it, he knows how hard it would've been.

⭑He'd shower you with praises and affection. "You did so good holding it all up..." or "You're here with us now. You can always rely on us..."

⭑He was also the one who filled Zoro up on what was happening.

⭑Would look at you from time to time to see how you're doing.

⭑ Chopper would be SHOCKED and worried.

⭑He starts thinking about the pain and wounds that you’ve gotten. It clicked to him and finally realized why you used to have a lot of scars on your back + arms.

⭑While you’re explaining to the crew your experience, Chopper went to his office and made some anti-anxiety pills ‘cause he doesn’t want you to suffer anymore. (Robin had to kick him out).

⭑Would look at you endearingly and hold your hand around the ship. He just wants to make sure nothing bad will happen to you!

⭑Other than that, Chopper would still act normal and do some silly stuff with Luffy and Ussop.

⭑Robin is Robin. She already had some suspicions about your past, but she wants to hear the truth directly from your mouth.

⭑When she heard what the celestial dragon said she was a bit shocked. Yes, she had thought about it, but another person who suffered from the world government?

⭑She wanted to hold you right then and there.

⭑If Nami’s sitting on your left then she’d be on your right. She’d pat your back and make you some tea. (Ussop’s coffee did not make it😔)

⭑After the talk, she became your therapist (w/h Nami. 2 heads are better than one they say.

⭑Will try to keep an ear out for you when you disappear on her POV and in an unknown place. (Yes an EAR)

⭑Franky was SUPERRRR shocked. Like Robin, he knew you were hiding something either. But he didn’t push through. Your business is your business.

⭑Would be the one bombing the celestial dragon’s ship.

⭑While you were explaining your past, Franky was crying loudly and was playing sad music in the corner. (He had to get moved since his crying ws louder than ur voice)

⭑After the incident, nothing major really changed your dynamic.

⭑You both were still goofy and you’d still do the “SUPERRR” pose with him.

⭑But even so, Franky is still glad that your past didn’t affect the present negatively; instead, it made you stronger.

⭑Brook is another person who'll be shocked.

⭑He didn't think much about everyone's past. He likes to mind his own business and when someone opens up to him, he'll listen wholeheartedly and give some advice.

⭑So when you open up to the whole crew he'll just listen. He'd give some side comments here and there but that's that.

⭑Like Franky, nothing would change with your dynamic. He might be a little protective but he knows that you could handle yourself.

⭑The moral of the story is to find someone like Brook.

⭑Jimbei would be mad mad AF

⭑He's Luffy but 10x worse when it comes to the celestial dragon topic.

⭑He was never captured as a slave, but as a member of the Fishman species, he understands the immense hardships that must have been inflicted upon them. Being subjected to torture at the hands of one's kind was an even more maddening experience.

⭑But even so, Jimbei would be happy that you're finally free and is with the crew.

⭑After your discussion with the group, he would politely excuse himself and usher you into a private conversation. His demeanor would resemble that of an older brother, emanating a deep sense of care and understanding, while also imparting his valuable knowledge.

⭑Safe to say you have another buddy to talk with.

A/n: I LOVE JIMBEI SO MUCH.