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makeyuomine · 8 days ago

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“tell me you hate me”

Summary: You introduced Harry to your parents, but things haven’t been going well. When you go to check on him and apologize, it turns out you're the one who needs a moment to unwind.

Type: Blurb

Author's Note: This is very loosely based on a deleted scene from the movie, The Notebook. Enjoy!

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I knocked on the bathroom door.

“Someone’s in here!” Harry called out.

I opened the door anyway, relieved to find it unlocked. Slipping inside, I quickly shut it behind me before anyone could notice.

Harry’s drying his hands when his eyes meet mine. I lock the door behind me and start toward him. He leans back against the nearest wall as I begin to ramble.

“Tell me you hate me. I’m so sorry about my parents. They can be very difficult. I think they think I’m going through some kind of phase, which is insulting because I’m twenty-seven. Oh god, and my mother. I’m so sorry—”

He cups my jaw with quiet control, and I go still, the urge to speak slipping away.

His eyes linger on my mouth before meeting mine again. He exhales, steady and calm. “Stop worrying,” he says, voice low but certain.

“I’m happy to be here. I just care that you’re not stressing yourself out over it. Okay?” he asserts his voice so I know he means it.

The simple act makes my pulse quicken. His eyes keep flicking to my mouth.

“Okay,” I manage to whisper.

A few seconds pass before I speak up again, “And then my dad asked if you were into crypto, which I know he thinks is some sort of personality test, and my mom just kept staring at your tattoos, and I’m just—ugh—I should’ve prepped them better or maybe not said anything about how we met, not that there's anything wrong with it, I just—God, they’re so judgy and—”

A slow exhale leaves Harry as he leans in, his forehead coming to rest against mine.

He let out a quiet laugh. “What am I going to do with you, huh?” His hands explored slowly—one gripping my hip, the other brushing up to cradle my neck.

“What matters most to me is how you feel,” I said gently. “I just don’t want them to make you rethink being with me.”

Harry’s eyes widened, a flicker of both shock and concern passing through them. It was clear he hadn’t expected that to be weighing on me. He moved closer to me without hesitation, ready to comfort me.

“What? Baby, that’ll never happen.”

His hands cup my face.

His voice dropped to a whisper. “I love you,” then he closed the space between us with a kiss.

Almost immediately, our kiss grew stronger, and we had to pause to catch our breath. He leaned me back against the sink while my hands softly moved across his back and threaded through his hair.

He lifts me so I’m perched on the sink. His kisses wander from my neck down to my collarbone, then back up to meet my lips. I melted into him instinctively, fingers clutching at the front of his shirt. The kiss only deepened, messy and impatient. My body arched into his like I suddenly needed him closer—now.

My fingers slid down to the hem of his shirt, brushing against the skin just beneath. He doesn’t need me to spell it out—he knows exactly what I’m hinting at.

“We don’t have long,” he murmured, stepping between my legs.

“I know,” I whispered, breath catching as he leaned in to kiss me, slow and deep, one hand cupping my face while the other slid down my waist.

The faucet dripped faintly behind us, the only sound in the room besides our breathing. His fingers grazed the hem of my dress, hiking it up slowly, testing how far he could take it. I let out the faintest gasp as his hand slipped beneath the fabric, cool fingers tracing the edge of my panties.

His fingers teased the elastic of my panties, tugging gently. His eyes locked with mine, silently asking for permission. I felt my pupils dilate, mesmerized by the man before me.

I nod with almost too much enthusiasm.

He kisses me again before quickly pulling off my panties and slipping them into his back pocket.

“Gotta be quiet for me, yeah?” he said, lips brushing against my jaw. “Don’t wanna give your mum another reason to dislike me.”

I nodded quickly, teeth sinking into my bottom lip to hold back the sound threatening to escape when two fingers slid into me with practiced ease. I gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white, hips rolling forward on instinct.

He curled his fingers just right, slow and steady, his thumb brushing over my clit in tight, deliberate circles. I bit down harder, fighting the tremble in my thighs, trying not to whimper.

“Look at you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine, “Taking it so well. So fuckin’ good for me, even here.”

My breath hitched as the heat coiled tighter in my stomach. I couldn’t even answer him, not without making a sound. My eyes fluttered shut, head falling back slightly as he picked up the pace, fingers plunging deeper, thumb circling faster.

The mirror was fogged slightly from the heat between us, even though the room was still and cool.

I’d barely caught my breath when I heard Harry let out a low, frustrated moan—raw and strained, like he was holding back too much for too long.

A beat later, he dropped to his knees in front of me, hands firm on my thighs as he pushed them apart, desire darkening his eyes.

“Harry,” I whispered, eyes wide, breath shallow. “We really—someone could—”

“I know,” he said, eyes locked on mine, voice low and calm. “That’s why you’re gonna keep quiet, yeah?”

Before I could answer, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh, just above the sensitive skin where his fingers had been moments before. My fingers tangled in his hair, already bracing myself for what I knew was coming.

He dragged his mouth higher, tongue tracing over me, slow and teasing. I bit my lip hard, stifling the moan building in my chest.

His tongue dove in, warm and wet and steady, flicking over my clit with just enough pressure to make my hips jerk. His hands slid under my thighs, anchoring me to the counter as he worked me open with his mouth.

I looked down at him through half-lidded eyes…his lashes long, his jaw flexing with every movement, eyes fluttering shut in focus. Like he was starving for it. Like this was all he wanted.

“God, Harry,” I whispered, barely audible.

His only reply was a groan against me, deep and low, sending vibrations through my core that made me nearly cry out. My hands tightened in his curls, and I had to slap one over my mouth, terrified someone outside might hear.

He sucked gently, then flicked his tongue in circles, fast and perfect, and I could feel myself falling apart.

“Come on, baby,” he murmured against me, the vibration almost too much. “Give it to me. Just like that.”

He inserted his fingers again, the amount of pleasure tripling in an instant. The overhaul of bliss was almost too much to handle. I wanted to scream so badly.

All while his tongue circled my clit, wet and deliberate. I gasped, the sound muffled by the back of my hand as I bit down to stay silent. His fingers were slow at first, curling up and stroking along that aching spot deep inside, while his mouth moved in tight, teasing circles that made my stomach tighten.

It didn’t take long. Between the thrill, the risk, and the way he knew my body, I was teetering on the edge in seconds.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, barely audible. “Come for me. Quietly now.”

I clenched around his fingers as the orgasm tore through me, sharp and unstoppable, like a wave breaking too fast to brace for. My legs trembled, barely holding me upright, and the only thing keeping me from crying out was the pressure of my teeth biting down on my lower lip.

My hands stayed glued to the sink, fingers gripping the porcelain so tightly they ached. Every nerve in my body felt like it had been lit from within—my skin buzzing, my breath catching, my chest rising in frantic, shallow bursts.

Somewhere below me, I heard Harry groan—low, guttural, rough with restraint. The sound of it made everything more intense. Like he was unraveling right along with me, undone by the way I came against his hand. He didn’t stop, didn’t ease up, just watched me ride it out with a dark hunger in his eyes and that moan still echoing at the back of his throat, like it physically pained him not to take more.

My legs were still trembling when his mouth finally lifted from me, lips slick and parted as he looked up, eyes dark and dazed like he’d just tasted something he wasn’t ready to give up.

But it was the slow pull of his fingers that did me in all over again.

He eased them out of me carefully, fingers soaked, glistening with a mixture of me and him and everything that just happened between us. I shivered at the sudden emptiness, but his gaze never left mine, not for a second.

He held them up slightly, watching the way my wetness clung to his skin in the dim bathroom light, then turned his wrist and slowly brought them to his mouth.

My breath hitched.

He parted his lips and slipped both fingers inside, sucking them in deep, tongue swirling around them as if he were still tasting me. His eyes fluttered shut briefly, savoring it, every trace of me, like I was his favorite thing in the world.

When he finally let them slide out of his mouth with a quiet pop, he licked the remaining shine off his knuckles, slow and deliberate. His voice was low, ragged.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he murmured, thumb dragging across his lower lip like he couldn’t believe it either.

I just stared, lips parted, chest still rising and falling unevenly as he stood between my knees, a soft smirk tugging at his mouth now.

I could feel my cheeks flush, still trying to steady my breath, but all I could do was reach for him—still buzzing from the way he’d unraveled me, like he’d enjoyed every second of it just as much as I had.

Harry reached for me at the same time. His hands were still warm from where they’d been on me, his mouth crashing into mine before either of us could say a word.

The kiss was messy. Hot. Desperate.

He tasted like sin and satisfaction, and when his tongue slid against mine, it felt like a match striking—igniting something all over again. His hands gripped my waist like he wasn’t done, like if we had even a few more minutes, he’d drag me back down with him and finish what his mouth had started.

But eventually, we both slowed—our breathing uneven, lips swollen, foreheads pressed together.

A few beats passed before Harry let out a breathy laugh, his thumb brushing lightly across my hip.

"You look flustered, baby," he teased, his voice low and smug. I swatted at his chest with a laugh, already well aware of what I must look like.

He smirked and helped me tidy up—straightening my clothes, smoothing down my hair, stealing a few soft kisses in between, each one gentler than the last. His hand brushed mine as we made our way to the door, the tension finally giving way to something lighter.

"Let's go have some fun."

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Thanks for reading!

#harry edward styles #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry x y/n

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lovemni · 7 months ago

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⋆.˚ ⚾️ ⌇ 승민 : AS WE ARE ── a usual noon after uni, at your usual spot at one of the unoccupied fields of the small town. however, one day, it turned out you weren't the only person finding calm in the field anymore.

index | next ₍⑅��..ᐢ₎

𓍯 baseballcapt!seungmin ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）7.6k ── ༯ TWOSHOT (?) uni au, slow paced & slow burn, curiosity, fluff, strangers to friends to ???, small town, angst, language, skz ensemble, very long, y/n is a foreigner/mixed ethnicity. ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ baseball seungmin. i repeat, BASEBALL SEUNGMIN >3< !! had this sitting in my drafts for way too long. so there may be more part(s) to this, because i certainly cannot put 15k+ words at once.. (╥﹏╥) . skzhop is out, and i'm in love with this song ever since the tour began, and the teaser. so here's a fic because i was desperate. also lowkey have mixed feelings about this fic, maybe it's too slow and uninteresting? (｡>﹏<) don't know, but well still hope you enjoy reading ! comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! happy reading <3

the town was as calm as ever, the streets bathed in the soft, golden glow of a sunset that seemed to stretch on forever. the fading light brushed the buildings with a warm, almost nostalgic hue, casting long shadows that whispered of days gone by. it was one of those places where time didn’t hurry. you could almost feel the hours stretching out like elastic, letting the moments linger and settle into your bones.

people moved through the streets slowly, as if they had all the time in the world, some with their heads down, lost in their thoughts, others with eyes up, catching the last rays of the day.

the air was still, but it carried the faint scent of fresh grass and distant wood smoke. a few birds called out from the trees lining the streets, the kind of birds that didn’t seem to mind the quiet, the kind that you could almost hear thinking. the small shops, with their cozy little displays, looked like they could have been frozen in time—hand-painted signs swaying gently in the breeze, windows fogging up as the night began to cool. you could hear the distant chatter of a couple walking home, their voices blending into the soft rustling of the leaves.

even the cars, few as they were, rolled down the narrow streets at a leisurely pace, their tires humming softly on the asphalt. there was no rush, no hurry here. it was one of those rare places where people stopped to chat at the corner, where you could hear the laughter of children spilling from an open window, where everyone seemed to know everyone else, even if they didn't.

everything moved in its own rhythm here, the world spinning a little slower, like the way a good song seems to linger long after it’s finished. it wasn’t that there was nothing to do; it was more like there was no need to rush toward anything. life just seemed to breathe at its own pace, savoring the small moments, the everyday details that most people would overlook. and in this quiet, peaceful town, those little moments mattered the most.

she liked it that way. she appreciated the quiet, the simplicity of it all. it gave her space to think, to breathe, and to write.

that evening, the notebook in her bag felt heavier than usual. she was late to her usual spot—an old wooden bench with a matching table under a canopy of trees at the edge of the town’s recreational grounds. it wasn’t much, just a small patch of greenery with an equally small baseball field. the bench faced away from the field, toward the trees and the town beyond, but she had always been drawn to the way it felt tucked away, like her own secret place.

by the time she arrived, the sky had begun its shift to dusky purples and soft blues. she slowed her steps when you saw someone in the field. it was rare for anyone to be here at this hour.

a supposed guy stood near the netted boundary of the baseball field, his posture relaxed but focused as the fading light of the day cast long shadows across the grass. his black hair, slightly messy and fluffy, curled around his forehead in soft waves, contrasting with the sleek black cap pulled low over his eyes, hiding much of his expression. though not particularly tall or imposing, there was something effortlessly attractive about him—something that drew the eye without trying.

his left hand was occupied with a well-worn black glove, snug against his fingers, the leather creaking softly as he shifted his grip. he tossed the baseball into the air, its white surface catching the last of the sunlight before it descended, spinning in his palm with a fluid grace. with a practiced snap, he caught it again, the sound of the leather cracking as it hit the glove.

his movements were calm but precise, like someone lost in the rhythm of repetition, tossing the ball once more into the air. this time, with a slight tilt of his head, he threw it toward an imaginary target. it sailed through the air, its flight perfect, before hitting the ground with a faint, echoing thud. yet, even as he went through the motions, his gaze drifted, as though his mind was miles away, distracted by thoughts that had little to do with the game.

she hesitated. she hadn’t expected company.

she moved toward the bench anyway, settling into the usual spot. the boy hadn’t noticed her yet—or if he had, he just didn’t show it. his focus was absolute, each throw measured and deliberate. she pulled out her notebook but found herself glancing at him more instead of writing.

he moved like someone used to just.. being. there was something almost distant in his movements, a depth she couldn’t quite place. she tried not to stare, but the way he kept practicing, as though he was trying to lose himself in the rhythm, held her attention.

finally, she gave in to the curiosity, like always. she set the notebook aside, picked up the novel she'd been reading, and flipped it open. but even as she read, her gaze kept drifting back to him.

the boy threw another pitch. the ball ricocheted off the fence with a dull thud.

"do you always practice alone?"

her hesitant yet curious voice cut through the quiet like a feather brushing the air.

the boy froze mid-motion, his arm still raised from the throw. slowly, he turned toward her. his cap shadowed most of his face, but she could see his brows furrowed in confusion. he didn’t seem angry, just surprised—like he wasn’t used to being spoken to, let alone noticed.

"usually," he replied after a moment. his voice was quiet, slightly rough around the edges but not unkind.

she smiled faintly. "it must be peaceful," she said, voice as soft as the breeze that rustled through the trees. "just you and the field."

the boy tilted his head slightly, studying her. for a long moment, he didn’t respond.

"sometimes," he said finally, his tone nonchalant. he adjusted the brim of his cap and turned back to the field, tossing the baseball into his glove.

she watched him in silence, her curiosity growing. there was something about him—something quiet but heavy, like he was carrying more than he wanted to share.

"you’re.. good, at it," she spoke again after a while.

he paused, glancing over his shoulder at her figure. "at what?"

"pitching," she replied simply.

this time, he didn’t look away so quickly. his eyes lingered on her, studying her with a hint of skepticism, as if trying to figure out if she meant it.

"it’s just practice," he said, finally breaking the silence.

"practice makes perfect," she said lightly.

his lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile but didn’t quite manage it. instead, he shrugged and turned back to his routine.

she picked up her book again but kept sneaking glances at him. she didn’t know his name, didn’t know why he was here or what kept him coming back to this empty field, but something told her, that she would see him again.

and that thought—unexpected and soft—made her chest feel a little lighter.

the evening deepened, the world around them growing quieter, the coolness of the night settling over the ground. y/n had returned to her novel, but her eyes followed the boy more often than her fingers turned the pages. she wasn’t sure why she stayed so focused on him, why his presence intrigued her so much. maybe it was the rhythm of his movements or the way he seemed so lost in his own world.

the boy threw the ball again, a sharp and clean arc that hit the fence with a satisfying thud. he stood still for a moment, watching the ball bounce weakly and roll to a stop on the grass. then he went to retrieve it, his footsteps slow and heavy.

when he straightened and turned back toward the center of the field, yani spoke again.

"why here?"

he stopped mid-step, his body slightly stiff as he glanced at her. "what do you mean?"

she closed her book, setting it carefully on the table. her voice remained soft, as though afraid to disturb the peace of the moment. "i mean, why do you practice here? the town doesn’t even have a real baseball team, right?"

the boy’s brows furrowed, and his grip on the ball tightened. "it’s quiet," he said after a pause.

“and well.. this is probably the only maintained baseball field here.”

“a-ah, right. guess i didn’t think of that.” she awkwardly smiled.

she tilted her head slightly, curious about the underlying weight in his tone. "still, quiet can be nice," she agreed. "but do you want it to be quiet?"

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he looked down at the ball in his hand, turning it over slowly. then, almost too softly for her to hear, he murmured, "it’s better that way."

the words hung between them, laced with something she couldn’t quite name—resignation, maybe, or exhaustion. she studied him for a moment, her gaze lingering on the lines of his face, the way his shoulders seemed to carry the world.

"do you like it?" she asked, her voice gentle.

he looked up at her, his expression unreadable. "what?"

"baseball," she clarified. "do you like playing it?"

his lips parted as if to answer immediately, but he stopped himself. he glanced back at the field, his gaze distant. "i used to," he said finally.

she frowned slightly. "used to?"

he shrugged, the motion heavy. "i don’t know. i guess i still do." he hesitated, as though debating whether to say more. "it’s… complicated."

she didn’t push. instead, she rested her chin on her hand, watching him with quiet curiosity. "it must mean something to you if you’re here every day," she said after a moment.

his head snapped toward her, his expression sharp for the first time. "how do you know i’m here every day?"

y/n blinked, startled by the sudden edge in his tone. "i don’t," she admitted quickly. "i’ve never been here this late before. i just assumed…"

the boy stared at her for a moment, his gaze narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge her sincerity. then, with a soft exhale, he looked away. "sorry," he muttered.

"it’s okay," she said, her tone even softer than before.

for a while, neither of them spoke. the boy resumed his practice, and the girl opened her book again, though her mind wandered.

when he finally broke the silence, his voice was quieter, almost hesitant. "why are you here?"

"here?"

"yeah," he said, gesturing vaguely toward her bench. "at this time. you said you don’t usually come this late."

she smiled faintly. "i lost track of time," she admitted. "i was at uni, writing, and didn’t realize how late it was until i looked outside."

"you write?" he asked, his tone more curious now.

she nodded. "mostly in my notebook. nothing fancy. just thoughts, sometimes stories."

he tilted his head slightly, as if considering her answer. "why here, though?"

"it’s peaceful,"

his gaze flickered to her for a moment before he turned back to the field. "yeah," he said quietly. "it is."

the minutes stretched on, the silence between them no longer uncomfortable. she found herself stealing glances at him again, wondering about the story behind his tired eyes and quiet demeanor.

eventually, the boy pulled off his glove and tucked it under his arm. he picked up the baseball and walked toward the bench, stopping a few feet away.

"i’m seungmin," he said, his voice low but steady.

she looked up at him, surprised but pleased by the introduction. "y/n," she replied, her tone warm. "well, actually, y/f/n. but everyone just calls me y/n."

seungmin’s brows lifted slightly. "y/f/n?" he repeated, the unfamiliar name rolling off his tongue awkwardly but not unkindly.

she nodded, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "it’s… a little hard to pronounce."

he didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at her with a quiet intensity. then, unexpectedly, he said, "it’s nice."

she blinked, her blush deepening. "thank you."

seungmin nodded once, then glanced at the sky. "i should go," he said, his tone reluctant.

"okay," she said, her voice soft.

he hesitated for a moment before turning to leave, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

she watched him go, her chest feeling oddly warm. she had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time they spoke. and for the first time in a while, she found herself looking forward to tomorrow.

the night deepened as she finally packed up her things. the notebook went into her bag first, followed by her novel. she cast a quick glance at the baseball field. it was empty now; seungmin had left without another word after their brief exchange.

she slung her bag over her shoulder and began walking down the narrow path that led out of the recreational grounds. the cool air brushed against her skin, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and earth. she didn’t feel like going home just yet, even though it was late. there was something about the stillness of the town at night that made her want to wander.

the streets were quiet yet full of a few people here and there, as they always were after dark. a handful of lights flickered in the windows of small shops, and the occasional sound of a distant dog barking broke the silence. the old cobblestone streets felt comforting beneath her feet, and the familiar, worn-down charm of the town enveloped her like a warm embrace.

she passed by the tiny bookstore she frequented, its lights dimmed for the evening. she slowed, peering through the glass at the rows of books stacked neatly on wooden shelves. it was one of her favorite places, but tonight, she didn’t feel like going in.

instead, she walked further into the heart of the town, where the smell of roasted chestnuts lingered in the air from a street vendor’s cart that had long since closed. her thoughts drifted back to seungmin—the quiet boy with the tired eyes.

he had been so distant, so closed off, and yet… there was something about him that made her curious. she found herself wondering if he’d return to the field tomorrow, or if tonight had been some sort of exception.

eventually, her wandering brought her back to the residential streets. the houses here were modest but cozy, with little gardens that overflowed with wildflowers in the summer. she stopped in front of one of the smaller homes—a single-story house with a tiled roof and a little swing in the front yard.

the warm glow of light spilled out from the windows, and she could see the silhouettes of her grandparents moving inside. y/n smiled to herself as she stepped through the front gate.

“y/n, you’re late!” her grandmother’s voice called out the moment she opened the door.

“i know, sorry, gramma,” she said with a sheepish grin, slipping off her shoes. “i lost track of time.”

her grandmother appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. she was a petite woman with kind eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled. “you shouldn’t be wandering around alone at night,” she scolded gently, though her tone was more worried than angry.

“let the girl breathe,” her grandfather said from the living room. he was seated in his favorite chair, a book resting open on his lap. “she’s young. young people like to roam.”

“i know that, but—” her grandmother shot him a look before turning back to their granddaughter. “it’s not safe.”

“it’s our town, grandma,” she said softly, setting her bag down by the door. “nothing ever happens here.”

“that doesn’t mean you should be careless,” her grandmother replied, though the worry in her voice had softened.

her grandfather chuckled, closing his book. “your grandma forgets that she used to sneak out of her parents’ house to meet me when we were young. remember that?”

her grandmother’s face flushed a faint pink, and she swatted at him with the dish towel. “that’s different!”

she laughed, the sound light and melodic. she loved moments like this, when her grandparents bantered like a young couple. they’d been married for over fifty years, and yet they still looked at each other with the same kind of warmth and affection that she imagined only existed in movies.

“are you hungry, dear?” her grandmother asked, turning her attention back to her. “i saved some stew for you.”

“starving,” she admitted, her stomach growling faintly as if to emphasize her point.

her grandmother smiled, motioning for her to sit at the kitchen table. “i’ll heat it up for you.”

as she sat down, her grandfather joined her, pulling out the chair across from her. “so,” he said, folding his hands on the table. “what were you doing out so late? writing again?”

she nodded, pulling her notebook out of her bag and setting it on the table. “and reading. i went to the grounds like always, but i stayed a little longer tonight.”

her grandmother set a steaming bowl of soup in front of her and raised a brow. “why longer?”

“there was.. someone else there,” she said casually, picking up her spoon.

her grandfather’s brow lifted. “someone else? that doesn’t happen often.”

“exactly what i thought,,” she agreed, stirring her soup. “he was practicing baseball. i think his name was.. seungmin..?”

her grandmother hummed thoughtfully as she sat down beside them. “is he a friend of yours?”

“not really. i just talked to him a bit.”

her grandfather leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. “well, if he’s practicing baseball alone, he must be dedicated. or stubborn.”

“yeah,” she chuckled softly, “he was good at pitching, though, even if it was all alone. though.. there was something about him– he seemed a bit distant,”

“maybe he was lonely?”

“maybe..? but i don't think he wanted.. company. at least he didn't seem like it.”

she glanced at her grandparents, at the way her grandfather’s hand rested over her grandmother’s on the table, their fingers lightly intertwined.

“do you think.. distant people want to be left alone?” she asked quietly.

her grandmother tilted her head, studying her with a thoughtful expression. “sometimes,” she said. “but not always. sometimes, they just don’t know how to ask for company.”

her grandfather nodded. “or they’re afraid of being hurt.”

her chest tightened slightly at their words. she thought of seungmin again, of his quiet replies and the way he’d said, it’s better that way.

“do you think he’ll come back?” she asked softly, more to herself than to her grandparents.

her grandmother smiled. “if he does, maybe you’ll be the company he doesn’t know he needs.”

she looked down at her soup, her mind drifting back to the empty baseball field. she didn’t know why she cared so much about a boy she’d just met, but a part of her hoped her grandmother was right.

and maybe, she’d have another chance to talk to him tomorrow.

the school courtyard was buzzing with the usual morning chatter—students gathered in clusters, discussing assignments, weekend plans, and the latest town gossip. y/n preferred to stay out of the bustle, so she slipped through the gates quietly, her guitar case slung over her shoulder.

her steps were light and deliberate as she made her way to the benches near the main building. it was her usual spot, tucked under the shade of a large tree where the morning light filtered through the leaves, creating dappled patterns on the ground.

she set her guitar case down carefully, adjusted her bag, and took out a small notebook. it was her sanctuary before the day’s classes began—a moment to gather her thoughts and jot down melodies or ideas.

“still writing your ideas away, y/nnie?”

the deep voice startled her, though it carried a warmth she recognized instantly. she looked up to see felix standing nearby, his hands tucked into the pockets of his blazer. his light blond hair fell slightly into his eyes, and a small smile played on his lips.

“maybe.. it's called sudden inspiration,” y/n replied softly, chuckling back.

felix chuckled, his voice low and soothing. “blah blah, same thing?” he dropped his bag onto the bench and sat beside her, leaning back with an air of easy calm. “so, what’s the plan for today? more serenading the trees with your guitar?”

y/n laughed, shaking her head. “not today. i’ve got a quiz later, and i promised myself i’d focus on studying.”

felix raised an eyebrow, his expression teasing. “you? worrying about a quiz? you’re probably already over-prepared.”

“maybe,” she admitted, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement. “but it’s better than being under-prepared.”

“fair point,” he conceded, glancing at her notebook. “what’s that? a new song?”

y/n hesitated for a moment before nodding. “just some scribbling. i don’t know if it’ll turn into anything yet.”

felix tilted his head, genuinely curious. “can i hear it sometime?”

“maybe,” she said, her tone playful. “if i ever finish it.”

felix smiled, leaning back against the bench. the two of them fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with unnecessary words. y/n appreciated that about felix—he didn’t push her to talk more than she wanted to, and his calm demeanor matched her own.

the warning bell rang, breaking the stillness.

“guess it’s time to face the day,” felix said, standing and slinging his bag over one shoulder.

y/n nodded, gathering her things. “see you at lunch?”

“of course,” he replied, giving her a small wave as he headed toward his classroom.

y/n watched him go for a moment before making her way to her own class. the halls were already filling with students, but she kept her head down, focusing on the soft melody still playing in her mind.

as she entered the classroom and took her seat by the window, she felt a sense of calm settle over her. the morning had been kind to her so far, and she was determined to carry that peace with her through the rest of the day.

after school, y/n packed her things and left the classroom with a light heart. the day had gone smoothly—no unexpected quizzes, no overwhelming assignments. she wasn’t one to feel bogged down by studies anyway; she took things in stride, balancing her love for learning with the simple joys of life.

her classmates were still lingering in the halls, some chatting in groups, others heading to cram school or their part-time jobs. y/n, however, had a different destination in mind. she slung her bag over her shoulder, her guitar case in hand, and stepped into the soft afternoon sun.

the streets were quiet as usual, the warm light casting long shadows on the cobblestones. y/n hummed softly to herself as she walked, her mind already drifting to the peace she always found at the field. she loved how the small town seemed to pause during this time of day, giving her a moment to feel completely at ease.

when she reached the recreational grounds, her gaze immediately swept toward the baseball field. it was empty, just as she had expected. the chain-link fence glinted in the sunlight, and the grass inside looked lush and green, untouched since yesterday.

she let out a soft sigh of relief.

placing her guitar case down at her usual bench by the trees, y/n settled in and opened her notebook. she had planned to study a little—reviewing notes for an upcoming essay—but the quiet of the field had a way of pulling her toward more creative pursuits.

instead of her school notes, she found herself flipping to a blank page, her pen poised over the paper as she searched for the melody she had been humming earlier. she tapped the pen lightly against her chin, letting the rhythm of the breeze and the rustling of the leaves guide her thoughts.

the minutes ticked by, and she found herself smiling faintly, not from anything in particular but from the simple pleasure of the moment. here, with the sunlight filtering through the trees and the town’s quiet hum in the background, everything felt just right.

after scribbling down a few lines of lyrics, she glanced toward the field again. she wondered, briefly, if the boy from yesterday would return. seungmin, she remembered. he had been so quiet, so distant, but there had been something about him that lingered in her mind.

shaking her head, she focused back on her notebook. it didn’t matter if he showed up or not. this was her time, her place, and she was perfectly content to spend it alone.

for now, the field was hers, and she intended to make the most of it.

as she continued her thing, the faint sound of footsteps on the gravel path caught her attention. curious, she glanced toward the baseball field, and her gaze landed on a figure she recognized immediately.

seungmin.

he wasn’t wearing his cap today, and his hair caught the sunlight as he walked toward the field, his usual baseball glove in one hand and a ball in the other. he moved with a quiet confidence, his posture relaxed but purposeful.

y/n blinked, momentarily surprised. he wasn’t usually here at this hour. she debated for a moment whether to say anything or let him pass unnoticed. but then, she thought about how reserved he had been the day before and decided to break the silence.

“came early today?”

her soft voice carried across the space, and seungmin’s steps slowed. he turned his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting hers with a flicker of recognition.

for a moment, he seemed caught off guard, but then he nodded, his expression neutral. “yeah.”

y/n tilted her head, her curiosity getting the better of her. “why?”

seungmin shrugged, looking away as he tossed the baseball lightly into the air and caught it. “no reason.”

she studied him for a moment, noting the way he avoided meeting her gaze. there was something almost… guarded about him. “it’s nice to have company,” she said lightly, hoping to make him feel less self-conscious.

seungmin glanced at her briefly before walking to the field. “don’t mind me. just doing my thing.”

y/n chuckled softly and turned back to her notebook, her pen tapping gently against the page. she couldn’t help but keep an eye on him, though. he moved with precision, practicing throws toward an imaginary batter. his form was sharp, his focus unwavering, and it was clear he wasn’t just idly passing the time.

after a while, she spoke again, her voice cutting gently through the quiet. “are you preparing for something? a tournament?”

the question made him freeze mid-throw. his posture stiffened slightly, and he stood still for a moment before lowering the ball.

“no,” he said, his tone flat. “it’s just a hobby. a way to pass the time.”

y/n frowned slightly, sensing the subtle shift in his mood. the energy around him seemed to dull, his earlier ease replaced by something heavier. she wanted to ask more but thought better of it.

instead, she offered a soft smile. “you’re really good for it to be just a hobby.”

he turned to look at her, his expression unreadable. “thanks,” he said simply, his voice quieter than before. then, as if to change the subject, he added, “what about you? always writing in that notebook?”

y/n’s smile widened slightly at the question. “most of the time,” she admitted. “it helps me clear my head.”

“what do you write?” he asked, his tone casual but with a trace of curiosity.

“songs,” she said, her voice soft but sure. “sometimes poems. whatever comes to mind.”

seungmin nodded, tossing the ball gently into the air again. “that’s… cool.”

they fell into a comfortable silence after that, with y/n returning to her notebook and seungmin continuing his throws. despite his earlier reticence, he didn’t seem as distant now.

around 3:30, y/n noticed a few figures approaching the field. she tilted her head, watching as a group of boys made their way toward seungmin.

“hey, cap!” one of them called, grinning as he waved.

seungmin turned, his demeanor shifting slightly. he gave a brief nod of acknowledgment and tossed the ball toward the boy, who caught it with ease.

y/n blinked, caught off guard. cap?

the group of boys—about six or seven of them—seemed at ease with seungmin, chatting and laughing as they warmed up on the field. y/n watched quietly, realizing this was a side of him she hadn’t seen before.

“you have a team?” she asked, unable to hide her surprise.

seungmin glanced at her, his expression unreadable again. “yeah. we play here in the evenings.”

“oh,” y/n said, her tone soft. “i didn’t know.”

“you’re gone by then,” he pointed out, his voice matter-of-fact.

she nodded, her gaze drifting back to the group as they continued their playful banter. they seemed close, their energy lively but grounded.

“well,” she said after a moment, closing her notebook and standing. “i guess i’ll leave you to it.”

seungmin’s brows furrowed slightly, though he said nothing.

y/n slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up her guitar case. before leaving, she offered him a gentle smile. “see you around, seungmin.”

he nodded, his gaze following her briefly before returning to his team.

as she walked away, she couldn’t help but feel a new curiosity about the quiet, guarded boy who seemed to carry more than he let on.

y/n adjusted her guitar case, deciding she wasn’t quite ready to go home. she checked her phone, seeing a message from felix confirming their usual plan to meet at the café. a smile crept onto her lips as she quickened her pace, the familiar path to the cozy little spot etched into her mind.

the café sat tucked into a quiet corner of town, its faded brick façade and wide glass windows giving it a rustic charm. y/n stepped inside, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint aroma of baked goods welcoming her.

felix was already there, seated near the window with a cup of tea in front of him. he glanced up as the bell above the door chimed, and his calm expression softened into a small smile.

“right on time,” he said, his deep voice carrying a note of teasing.

“i’m always on time,” y/n replied, her tone light as she slid into the chair across from him. she set her guitar case beside the table and leaned back, letting the café’s warm atmosphere envelop her.

felix raised an eyebrow. “is that what you tell yourself when you’re five minutes late?”

“okay, once. that happened once.”

felix chuckled and sipped his tea. “how was the field today? same as always?”

she hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “pretty much. though… there’s this guy who’s always there. seungmin. i didn’t expect to see him earlier than usual.”

felix tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “seungmin? the baseball guy?”

“yeah,” y/n said, fiddling with the edge of her notebook. “he’s quiet. keeps to himself. but i found out he has a team. they usually play in the evenings.”

“interesting,” felix murmured. “maybe he’s a future pro in disguise.”

y/n shrugged, though a small smile tugged at her lips. “maybe.”

after finishing their drinks, the two friends decided to roam the town. the streets were alive with their usual charm—small shops lining the cobblestone paths, vendors selling trinkets, and the faint hum of conversations blending with the distant rustle of trees.

eventually, they arrived at their usual street food spot, a tiny stall nestled in a busy corner where the smell of grilled skewers and noodles filled the air.

felix handed over the cash for their order before y/n could protest. “my treat,” he said firmly.

“you always say that,” y/n replied, accepting the steaming skewer of fish cakes he handed her.

“because it’s true,” he said, taking a bite of his own food.

they found a small table nearby and ate while chatting about their day. y/n shared stories about her classes, and felix listened with quiet interest, occasionally offering his own dry, witty remarks that made her laugh.

as they finished their food, y/n’s gaze wandered across the street, where a group of boys had gathered around another street food stall. her breath caught for a moment when she recognized seungmin among them.

so it is a small world.

he stood slightly off to the side, holding a skewer in one hand while his friends chatted and laughed around him. though he wasn’t as animated as the others, there was a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his face—a subtle ease in his demeanor that softened his usual guardedness.

y/n couldn’t help but smile internally. there was something oddly endearing about seeing him like this, surrounded by his friends, blending into the lively rhythm of the town.

“earth to y/n?” felix’s voice broke through her thoughts.

she blinked, turning back to him. “sorry, what?”

felix followed her gaze briefly and raised an eyebrow. “someone you know?”

“kind of,” she said, her voice soft. “that’s seungmin. from the field.”

“ah,” felix said, a note of amusement in his tone. “seems like he’s not as much of a loner as you thought.”

y/n smiled faintly, not replying. she watched as seungmin’s friends laughed at something one of them said, their voices carrying over the street. though he didn’t laugh with them, seungmin’s expression wasn’t as distant as usual—he looked… at ease.

for a moment, y/n considered walking over to say hello, but she quickly dismissed the thought. it didn’t feel like the right time.

from her point, she could see him more clearly now than she had at the field. he was at the edge of the group, his hands in his pockets and his expression composed but not cold. while his friends laughed and gestured animatedly, seungmin offered occasional comments, his voice quieter but not entirely detached.

her lips curved into a faint smile. there was something intriguing about the way he carried himself—not quite aloof but not fully immersed in the chaos of his friends either. he seemed comfortable yet separate, as though he existed in a world slightly apart from everyone else.

she watched as the group stopped near a food cart selling roasted sweet potatoes. one of the boys elbowed seungmin, clearly joking about something, and though seungmin didn’t laugh, his lips twitched upward in the briefest of smiles.

y/n’s heart warmed at the sight. it was such a small thing, but it made him seem less distant than he usually appeared.

realizing she’d been staring, y/n quickly looked back at felix, as they walked out of the stall.

the morning sunlight spilled gently into the cozy kitchen, illuminating the worn wooden table where the family gathered. y/n sat cross-legged on one of the chairs, sipping on her cup of hot tea. her hair was pulled back into a lazy braid, still slightly messy from sleep. the kitchen smelled of freshly cooked pancakes, courtesy of her grandma, who was bustling near the stove with her usual cheerful hum.

her grandpa, seated across from y/n with his morning paper, folded it down just enough to peer at her. “so, young lady,” he started, his tone casual but with a glint of mischief in his eyes, “what are your big plans for today?”

y/n shrugged, tearing a small piece of her pancake. “nothing much. probably read, maybe play guitar for a bit. why?”

“well,” he said, setting the paper aside with exaggerated care. “your old man here was thinking… how about we wash the car together? it’s looking mighty sorry out there.”

y/n smirked. “you mean you want me to wash the car while you supervise?”

he gasped, feigning shock. “what kind of slander is this? supervise? me? no, no. it’s teamwork, kiddo. bonding time.”

her grandma chimed in with a snort, flipping another pancake. “bonding time, huh? more like you’ll do half the job and then mysteriously need a break.”

“hey now!” he defended, raising his hands. “who said i wouldn’t pull my weight? besides, i’m offering quality fatherly wisdom while we work. isn’t that worth something?”

y/n laughed, shaking her head. “alright, alright, gramps. i’ll help. i was planning to wash my bike anyway.”

“atta girl,” her grandpa said, leaning back triumphantly. “we’ll get started after breakfast, then.”

“finally!” he exclaimed when he saw her. “thought you’d decided to ditch me for a second there.”

“relax, gramps,” y/n said, grinning as she tucked one earphone into her left ear. “i’m here, aren’t i?”

they rolled up their sleeves and got to work. y/n filled a bucket with soapy water while gramps grabbed the hose. mellow acoustic music played softly in her ear, a comforting backdrop to the task at hand.

“so,” gramps started, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn patch of dirt, “what’s the deal with that baseball kid you keep mentioning? seungmin, right?”

y/n paused mid-scrub, narrowing her eyes at him. “why do you keep bringing him up?”

“just curious,” he said innocently, though the teasing grin tugging at his lips betrayed him. “seems like he’s a topic of interest lately.”

“he’s just someone i see at the field sometimes,” y/n replied, focusing a little too intently on the car. “not that interesting.”

“uh-huh,” grandpa said, not convinced. “you should bring him over sometime. i’ll teach him how to really swing a bat.”

y/n laughed. “you don’t even play baseball, gramps!”

“oh, you know too less young lady,” he mumbled with a dismissive wave. “anyway, finish up the roof while i grab something from the shed. your grandma thinks i forgot the wax.”

y/n shook her head as he walked off, muttering under his breath about how many things grandma likes to remind him of.

with grandpa gone, y/n slipped the other earphone in and turned the volume up. the soothing strums of guitar and mellow vocals filled her ears as she focused on scrubbing every inch of the car. she moved methodically, dipping the sponge into the bucket and humming softly to herself. the sunlight caught on the small beads of water dripping from the car, casting tiny rainbows onto the pavement.

she was so absorbed in her task that she didn’t notice the figure walking down the street.

seungmin.

hold on, seungmin?

he’d been heading home after a quick errand, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder, when his gaze fell on her. at first, he thought it was someone else. but as he slowed his pace, he realized it was her.

y/n, standing there in the sunlight, completely immersed in what she was doing. her loose tee shifted slightly with her movements, and her messy bun framed her face in an effortlessly pretty way. the music in her ears left her unaware of his presence, and for a moment, seungmin just stood there, watching.

she looked different from the girl he usually saw at the field—less polished, more relaxed. but it suited her.

he debated for a second, then called out, “came to scrub cars now, huh?”

y/n startled, pulling out one earphone and spinning around. when she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise, her voice squeaking. “seungmin?”

“you missed a spot,” he said, pointing to the car with a faint smirk.

y/n looked at him, then down at the car, and deadpanned. “did you come all the way here just to tell me that?”

“was passing by,” he said with a shrug, though the truth felt far more complicated.

“well, since you’re here,” she said, holding out the sponge with a grin, “care to help?”

seungmin hesitated, his expression torn between amusement and disbelief. “not a chance.”

“figures,” y/n said, rolling her eyes playfully. “you baseball types are all the same. no multitasking skills.”

he raised an eyebrow. “pretty sure scrubbing cars isn’t a skill.”

“then you should try it,” she challenged.

before he could respond, gramps peeked out from the doorway, watching the scene with a grin. “who’s that?” he called, pretending to be oblivious.

“just a passerby, gramps!” y/n yelled back, glancing at seungmin with an amused smile.

gramps disappeared back inside, leaving them to their banter.

“you’re weird,” seungmin said finally, though his tone lacked any real bite.

“thanks,” y/n replied with an awkward laugh. “it’s part of my charm.”

"they won't let me live it down," she whispered exaggeratedly yet subtly, glancing back at the door her grandpa had just walked through, to get inside.

"i see," his gaze followed hers. "well, i'll let you carry on then,"

he shook his head, his smirk softening into something almost fond before he turned to leave. “see you around, car girl.”

y/n watched him walk away, her cheeks warm as she turned back to the car.

y/n stood there for a moment, still holding the sponge in her hand as seungmin disappeared down the street. a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself, her cheeks faintly warm. she shook her head to snap out of it and went back to scrubbing the car, the music in her earphones still playing softly.

just as she was finishing the final rinse, she heard the familiar shuffle of her grandpa’s shoes coming back into the garage. he had the tin of car wax in one hand and a slightly smug expression on his face.

“well, well, well,” he started, drawing out the words as he leaned against the car. “was that the young baseball kid you’ve been talking about?”

y/n groaned immediately, her cheeks heating up again. “gramps, stop. he was just passing by!”

“sure he was,” gramps said, his voice dripping with teasing skepticism. he crossed his arms, eyeing her closely. “funny coincidence, don’t you think? this small town, this exact street, just happening to walk by while you’re here looking like… well, like you do right now.”

“grandpa!” she exclaimed, spinning around to splash a little soapy water in his direction.

“alright, alright!” he said, dodging the splash but grinning from ear to ear. “but you can’t blame me for being curious. he seemed like a decent kid, though he could use a bit more enthusiasm in his voice. not much of a talker, is he?”

“not really,” y/n admitted, sighing as she wrung out the sponge. “but he’s… nice. i think.”

before grandpa could press further, gramma appeared at the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron as she took in the scene. “who’s this you’re talking about?” she asked, her sharp eyes darting between the two of them.

“oh the boy,” gramps said casually, but his grin betrayed him. “the baseball kid y/n’s been bumping into, at the field.”

gramma’s eyebrows shot up. “oh? he’s come to visit now, has he?”

“no!” y/n exclaimed, exasperated. “he was just walking by, and gramps decided to make a whole scene out of it.”

gramma chuckled as she came closer, inspecting y/n’s work on the car. “sounds to me like gramps is just jealous. wasn’t he a baseball boy himself back in the day?”

y/n blinked, turning to look at her grandpa. “wait, what? you were?”

gramps cleared his throat, suddenly looking a bit bashful. “well, i wouldn’t say baseball boy, exactly…”

“don’t let him fool you,” gramma interjected, her voice full of pride. “he was one of the best players in town back in his day. made it all the way to the intertown tournaments. brought home trophies too!”

“trophies?” y/n asked, her jaw dropping. “grandpa, why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “didn’t seem all that important. it was a long time ago, kiddo.”

“not important?” gramma scoffed, smacking his arm lightly. “you still have those trophies sitting in the attic. he was the talk of the town back then.”

y/n stared at her grandpa in amazement. “wow, that’s so cool! why’d you stop?”

gramps hesitated, his usual playful demeanor softening. “life happened,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “family came first. had to make some choices, you know? i met your beautiful grandmother.”

y/n nodded, sensing there was more to the story but not wanting to push. “still, i had no idea you were so good at baseball. that’s… amazing.”

gramps brightened a bit at her words, a small smile tugging at his lips. “well, maybe i’ll teach you a thing or two one of these days. can’t have that baseball kid showing me up if he ever comes around again.”

gramma chuckled, shaking her head. “you two are impossible. now, finish up here before the sun sets. and y/n, don’t let him skip out on the waxing this time.”

“hey!” gramps protested, but he was already reaching for the wax.

as y/n worked on her bike nearby, she couldn’t help but glance toward the street again, wondering if seungmin would pass by a second time. her grandpa’s quiet hum and her gramma’s occasional comments from the kitchen filled the air with a warmth that made her heart feel full.

even as she focused on her tasks, seungmin’s image lingered in her mind—his slightly awkward but oddly endearing presence, the way he smirked just enough to show he was teasing.

she shook her head, smiling to herself. her grandparents were going to have a field day if they caught her thinking about him again.

347 notes · View notes

gatitties · 6 months ago

Note

Hey hope you having a good day, I was requesting for one piece one shot. So can we do that child reader doesn't act like their age instead they act like a grownup and are VERY mature. Causing them to be like an entire grownup and having worries and feels the need to fix a promblems on their own like a groen up. If its alright can we do the (SH) , (WP), (HP) that try to help child reader feel more like a chuld so reader dosent overthink over things that are not for their age. Thank you. Love your books ♡

─Strawhats, Whitebeard Pirates & Heart Pirates x child!reader (Platonic)

─Summary: The crew takes you on a surprise trip with the intention that you enjoy and behave like someone appropriate to your age.

─Warnings: none

Everyone noticed your strange behavior from the beginning, at least, strange for a child of your age, when normally children were carefree, naive or whiny, you never stopped worrying about things that you definitely shouldn't worry about.

Expenses, proper nutrition, daily exercise to keep fit, you had a notebook where you had a rigorous table for each month, an organization that prevented the anxiety of not knowing what to do or how to act from bothering you, you didn't need 'unnecessary' or 'wasted' time in your life.

What completely confused Luffy was why didn't you want to play with him and Ussop? Normally children are a bunch of inexhaustible and elastic energy, but you prefer to do some problems to train your mind, which is fine in a way, but you didn't even like stuffing yourself with candy with Chopper, you were a child for god's sake! Your arms and legs were small, you still struggled with psychomotor and coordination problems in some situations, but you behaved like someone divorced and with debts piling up non-stop.

Of course, Robin and Sanji noticed that all that maturity disappeared from time to time, in your most vulnerable moments, when mental fatigue takes its toll on the deepest part of you, that's when you let out your true behavior, the one you should have at such a young age.

"Aren't we deviating from the established route?"

"Don't worry about it, we just took a detour, we need to buy somethings before the island we were originally going to."

Nami frowned at the exaggeration in your voice, always so exasperated at the slightest change, thinking it would cause some trouble, of course you were worried because you hadn't noticed that the supplies were running out, but luckily Zoro was able to keep you distracted enough for you to notice that they didn't really need to go shopping.

Your expression was completely indecipherable when Franky put you on his shoulder, pointing at the strange city that was on that island, something similar to the roller coasters and attractions of Sabaody, but on a smaller scale, that they came across this island was luck, Brook read about it in the newspaper and they all agreed that a break wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Are you sure we can take a break? The log pose will get deconfigured if we take too long."

Jinbe patted your head, pointing at one of the milder attractions, silently asking if they should go there or to other intensities.

"We have everything under control, where do you want to ride first?"

"I don't know, I've never been in an amusement park"

You rested your chin against Franky's head, a little embarrassed at not knowing what to do, the fish man smiled softly at you and decided to guide you all to the more childish area, everyone divided and joined together depending on each one's tastes, although at first you felt insecure, you began to enjoy and appreciate the time off, letting your mind go unconcerned about things that were beyond your reach, bringing out your most capricious and childish side, you allowed yourself to be a child during the day. The crew still had to fight your worries, but they were relieved to see that your childish mind was still there.

They're worried, very worried, Marco was the first to notice how you seemed to lose hair for every little problem that happened on the Moby Dick, was there a shortage of food? You were making a shopping list, did the cannons have a malfunction? You'll read books about them so that the defenses don't go down, was there a mess after a party? You got up early to leave everything spotless.

You didn't even bother to run around the deck with Ace, he adored you and used to drag you around to play little pranks on the crew, but you always left him hanging, excusing yourself by saying that they were absurd things and that there were problems to deal with. So everyone has a meeting to talk about why you act like a grumpy old person and not a carefree child, Izo really thinks he'll see wrinkles on your face when you reach adolescence.

"We have to keep the child from thinking about that kind of thing, the other day asked me if I had done the inventory of the medicines."

"My god… the other day the kiddo asked me if could start shooting."

"Mmmh, the child asked me if could start hand-to-hand defense training too."

"Kiddo was worried because the portions didn't have enough vitamins that an adult needs to ingest."

Whitebeard listened in silence, his face darkened as he continued to listen to the others' conversation, he needed to end this, you're not at the age to occupy your mind with that kind of worries, you should worry about getting enough sleep, having fun, getting into mischief, being a little fussy or whiny… it caused him deep pain to see you like that.

"The discussion is over, let's make the child behave like a child."

Everyone listened to their captain's strict orders, his absolute word spreading throughout all of his subordinates immediately, leaving you confused when you were prevented from doing anything the next day, unable to enter the kitchen, Marco's office, or the small armory, you had no time to get angry at the fact that they were delaying your work because Ace dragged you into mischief. It wasn't what you had planned to do today, but since you had no other options, you preferred to keep your mind occupied than to think about why your captain wouldn't let you do what you usually did.

With your thoughts much less occupied, the simplicity of spending a good time with the people who love you made you show a facet much more in line with your age, you laughed carefree at how Marco tripped over a bucket that Ace left lying around, you escaped from Thatch after throwing flour on his face, Izou caught you trying to steal his makeup… your mischievous attitude gave years of joy to the crew, your laughter sounded throughout the ship like a melody, something you usually didn't do.

"This is much better, I hope you can take things more calmly, you will have time to grow up."

Whitebeard directed his words towards you, although you were completely asleep on his lap, he smiled tenderly, caressing your head, he didn't want you to worry about adult things again, you don't need to grow up so fast, you have to give him time to cry when you are a full-grown adult, but you need to enjoy your childhood first.

Law appreciates you, he really does, he loves that you understand that everything has to be clean, disinfected, organized... it's okay that you want to have a healthy routine and he doesn't prohibit you from taking care of yourself, but my god, you have the behavior of an impulsive parent who has twenty children and doesn't have time to take care of them all.

Ikkaku takes care of the food, Bepo takes care of the navigation, Law is a doctor, Shachi and Penguin… well, they are there, but you don't need to occupy all those positions when you think something is going to cause problems. Law understands that you may be a little ─too much sometimes─ more mature than most children your age, he himself had to face childhood in a hard way, but you didn't have to go through that, everyone was there to take care of you, pamper you, you can have a totally normal childhood without worries, however you decide to make all the problems yours.

"You have to stop, I've already told you that you don't need to worry about those things, I'm the captain."

"But-"

It only took one look from your captain to stop you from ranting, he confronted you directly because he knew you would understand what he meant, but you got to the point of worrying about things that he didn't even care about, you need to relax or your heart would stop. No one has died from a little disorganization, some junk food or not washing their hands after eating with nothing but a napkin. But it was too hard to put all those thoughts aside, the crew made sure not to let you think about it too much, but with each passing day it seemed like you were blowing more and more smoke out of your ears like a locomotive at full speed, you could stop doing things but not overthinking them.

He had to pull you out of the Polar Tang, the idea was from the idiot duo, but it was what he needed right now, a stupid and fun idea, ─although Law didn't find it too funny─ he stopped at the first snowy island he found and let the chaos begin on its own.

"This is war, eat snow!"

It only took one of Penguin's snowballs to hit you to activate a switch in you, you don't know if it was out of frustration or because you were having a good time, but you started throwing snow left and right, Ikkaku, Bepo, Law, Jean Bart… they were all fired without discrimination, you didn't stop to think about how the snow got under your clothes or that you'll catch a cold after this, you enjoyed the moment without your mind plagued by unnecessary problems.

"That's our child! ack-"

The crew smiled upon hearing your malicious grin at having hit Shachi, who was celebrating that you had hit his friend, unleashing your most childish and hyperactive side, however he also suffered the consequences of your change of mentality, they still had a long way to go before you stopped behaving like a complete adult, but you let those more childish hues that you hid from yourself show.

#request #op #one piece #platonic one piece #one piece x reader #platonic reader #strawhats x platonic reader #child reader #heart pirates x platonic reader #whitebeard pirates x platonic reader #one piece x platonic reader #one piece x child reader #sfw #whitebeard pirates #whitebeard crew #heart pirates

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zorrasucia · 10 months ago

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“okay, slow down, you’d never done this until 5 minutes ago” with virgin carmy 🧎🏼‍♀️

Hello, Anon! 💜

Of course! This takes place in his Copenhagen era. Thank you for allowing me to continue my ongoing campaign for Virgin!Carmy 😌 I hope you like it!

"I didn't expect you to cook," you said, watching Carmy plate pasta with ease, a healthy serving of parmesan cheese on top. "Thought you'd be sick of it at the end of the day. It smells delicious, by the way."

"Thanks," he smiled shyly as he sat in front of you, the boat swaying a little. "Wanted to make you something from home."

You didn't know what to expect when Terry arranged for you to meet up with her new golden boy, Carmy, but this was feeling more and more like a blind date. Weirdly enough, you didn't mind her meddling this time.

"Where's home?" you asked.

"Chicago. You?"

"I don't even know where my home is anymore. Before Copenhagen, I was in London for a long while. And I haven't been to visit Aunt Terry in months..."

Carmy arched an eyebrow but didn't ask.

"She's my godmother, Chef Terry, not my actual aunt. I don't usually tell people about it, don't want to make her look bad," you shrugged, something about Carmy made it so easy to open up. "For whatever it's worth, I tried to stay away from cooking and baking and everything, I really did. I just couldn't."

"I get it. Why desserts though?" he asked.

"There's something freeing about them," you bit your lip, trying to put it into words. "You know how they're described, right? It's always decadent, confection, guilty pleasure - things like that. You can be creative."

When you looked up, Carmy was smiling - he looked younger and softer.

"I like that. Sounds nice."

"It is," you smiled back and took a forkful of spaghetti. It was delicious. "Oh, this is incredible," you hummed.

Carmy beamed.

While you dried the dishes, you caught a glimpse of one of Carmy's drawings.

"You make these?"

He looked up from the sink and flushed. "Helps me remember details," he explained shyly, avoiding your gaze.

You learned he had notebooks full of vegetables and dishes, diagrams for plating and cooking. You were surprised to find one of the pastries you had been working on perfecting there too, notes scribbled on the side. Your fingernails traced the lines carefully.

"You can have it," he offered.

"Really?"

He had an adoring, boyish look on his face and you melted inside.

"Yeah," he said, tearing out the page and giving it to you.

"Thanks," you said and without thinking, leaned in to kiss him.

It was quick, a gentle peck. As soon as you parted, you realized you wanted more - you both did.

"Can you- Would you do that again?" Carmy asked.

You tilted your head, moving slowly, relishing the moment right before the kiss, the way his lips parted slightly in anticipation. When you pressed your lips to his again, you took your time, let him cup your face and caress your waist as your tongue touched his lower lip.

When you parted, he looked relieved - that you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

"I didn't think we would do anything like this tonight," you said, your voice breathy from the kisses Carmy was leaving on your neck and collarbone.

You had spent the last half hour making out on his bed, slowly losing layers of clothing. Your blouse and trousers were on the floor, along with his jeans and t-shirt. His right hand was on your breast, caressing your nipple through the fabric of your sports bra, your right hand was palming his cock through his boxers.

"Neither did I," he exhaled into your skin, his thumb hooking on the elastic of your panties. "It's good though?"

He looked up at you for confirmation.

"I- uh-" you hesitated.

"Shit," Carmy froze, starting to withdraw from you.

"No, wait, Carmy," you grabbed his wrist before he could get away. "It's great. You're great. It's just, I've been busy so I didn't- It's a little hairy down there is what I'm trying to say," you said awkwardly, your fingers intertwined with his on your hip, trying to convey your meaning.

Carmy tilted his head, confused. "Okay... Something wrong?"

"I don't know if you're, uh, used to girls that shave it all or- I don't know. Men can be assholes about body hair," you said, a little defensively.

"I'm not used to anything," Carmy said, chuckling nervously. "I like what you look like."

"Oh," you smiled. "Okay."

"Okay?"

You nodded, getting rid of your bra, while he tugged down your underwear.

Carmy got close, his right hand moving to cup your pussy, carding his fingers through the hair, caressing. It made you hum.

"Want to taste you," he whispered.

"Yes," you squeezed his bicep, encouraging him.

"Just- Shit. I think I might be bad at it," he said, his eyes suddenly looked vulnerable.

"Evil ex told you that?" you asked gently, trying to lighten the mood.

He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "I've never done it," he confessed. "Don't want to fuck it up with you."

"Carmy," you touched his chest, tracing soothing patterns, calming him. "You said you wanted a taste, right?" he nodded. "There's no way you can fuck that up. If you make me feel good, that's great but I don't need it to be perfect, okay?"

He kissed you, slow and soft - thank you. Then, deep and full of lust - I want you.

He made his way down your body, licking and nipping at skin, stopping between your legs. You opened them wider for him to settle. He took a good look at you, fingers touching your outer lips with care.

"Beautiful," he exhaled and it tickled you in the most delicious way. You shivered.

He started giving you long, vertical licks, tracing the contour of your folds, almost like he was trying to memorize the shape of you. You moaned low. It was good. There was no rhythm to it but was making you wet and restless.

"Mhmm," you encouraged him, carding your fingers through his curls.

Tracing the lines of you and listening to your breathing, he found your clit. After a couple of his licks were followed by sharp inhales he decided to stay there, kissing and licking, becoming frantic, quickly addicted to the sound of your pleasure.

"Oh! Fuck. Okay, slow down, you’d never done this until five minutes ago," you pulled on his hair, trying to keep his tongue from completely undoing you.

"Shit. That bad?" Carmy asked, sitting up.

"Too fast," you tried to catch your breath. "Too fast."

"Fuck, sorry," he soothed the skin of your thighs and your hips.

"It's- You found the spot. That's good. Just- take your time with it," you explained. "Let me savor it."

He chuckled, your play on words reminding him that he had tasted you and then some.

"Okay," he kissed the valley between your thigh and your hip, soft and sensual, like he was trying it out.

You smiled fondly, watching him slowly kiss his way back to your pussy, open-mouthed, gentle. A needy sound caught in the back of your throat when he finally got close to where you wanted him.

Carmy's eyes widened.

"Oh. Got it," he mumbled, realizing that half the fun was making you wait for it.

He tortured you, carefully finding every place that gave you pleasure. Then, he built up a rhythm that had you writhing on the sheets, fighting the grip he had on your hips, trying to fuck his face, and he paused.

"I've made a monster," you complained, panting and caressing his face - shiny with his sweat and your arousal.

"Fuck," he groaned. "Can't believe you're letting me do this."

You exhaled and giggled giddily. "Can't believe you're enjoying this so much."

"Mhmm," Carmy nuzzled the inside of your thigh, his roman nose tracing zigzags while you caught your breath.

When he started again, he was a little rougher - sucking harder than he had dared so far, hoisting your legs above his shoulders. You moaned low and squeezed your breast, looking for something to keep you grounded. Carmy caught your movements and rushed to replace your hand with his, humming in approval as you intertwined your fingers. You closed your eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure.

He stopped for a second.

"Eyes on me," he growled.

And he kept on devouring you.

You struggled to keep eye contact with how vehemently he was sucking on your pussy, lewd noises coming from his mouth. He was making you gasp for breath and grab desperately at the bedsheets underneath.

You were vaguely aware of the mattress shaking - was Carmy grinding into it? You didn't check or ask any further questions - he was humming in delight against your pussy, lips closed around your clit and eyes fixed on you. He arched his eyebrows. Now? You nodded eagerly.

"Please, Carmy," you keened.

He kept sucking on you, his grip on your breast and thigh getting forceful enough to bruise as you reached your high. You came with a needy sound, something between a whine and an exhale, legs shaking and hips grinding towards his face.

You regained your bearings just in time to see Carmy humping the mattress desperately, drowning gravelly moans into your thigh as he came too.

"Fuck," you sighed, your fingers soothing Carmy's scalp, probably sore from you pulling on it hard all that time. "Oh, my God. Carmy..."

"Sorry. Shit, sorry," he panted, his sticky cheek resting on your hip.

"Are you seriously apologizing for making me cum?" you giggled.

"I couldn't hold it back any longer," he explained.

You didn't tell him how hot it was to see him like that, completely lost in wanting you, cumming in his boxers because he liked eating you out that much. He wouldn't believe it.

So instead you said: "Guess that means we'll have to see each other again. So I can repay the favor."

#i love when carmy's a little pathetic 😌💜#would chef terry arrange this? probably not. but olivia colman would <3 #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto fanfiction

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teleportbooks · 5 months ago

Text

Fanbinding: What We Make by EHyde

I made a book with rearrangeable sections! What We Make is an Akatsuki no Yona au based on a prompt from @sorasan000, where Yon-hi (Soowon's mother) is a) a priest and b) a time traveler (at the time it was written, Yon-hi was still Free Real Estate so this version of her is basically an OC). The fic follows her personal timeline, as she interacts with King Hiryuu's timeline out of order.

When I posted this on ao3, I posted the chapters in reading order, and titled the chapters with their position in the historic timeline (so, for example, chapter 2 was titled "four" because it was the fourth in the historical sequence). Here, I have titled the sections with their reading order/Yon-hi's pov, and they're currently bound in the historical sequence, but they can be rebound in any order.

Each section is folded and sewn individually as a pamphlet, none of them have more of a title page than any others. The cover is just two boards with a strip of sturdy leather between them, and the sections are bound together by a wrapped cord holding everything in place (it works the same as a 'travelers notebook' but it's one long cord instead of elastics). This is a small book, same size as an 8-page zine, and I think if I were making something bigger I would want to do more to stabilize the spine. But at this size it works fine.

#bookbinding #experimental bookbinding

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b-free · 4 months ago

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Two drones walked through a forest on Yttrium-2, slowly walking as they looked around, avoiding the light where they could.

One was a tall, looking like a heavily modified Disassembly Drone. Missing the tail canister and headlights with normal looking arms, her purple optics scanning the area with a curious curiosity. Lavender dyed hair back in a long ponytail as she kept her companion close.

The other was a normal, if heavy scarred and damaged, Worker Drone. Her navy blue optics were mainly looking ahead through her half cracked visor, occasionally looking at the other with worry. She was wearing a thick black coat, wearing something underneath her left sleeve with an elastic band of sorts wrapped around her left thigh.

One thing was clear, they were lost.

"This is... Extremely different..." The taller one said, her wire tail wrapped around the others hand.

@yinyans-sideblog

The pair soon arrive at a wide clearing, well traveled by the look of the dirt and grass on the ground making a small path through the area near the trees. The grass is a bit tall here, but what draws the attention is the drone sitting on a large stone that juts out of the ground.

Wavy light brown hair is pulled back into a low pony-tail as his aqua eye-lights focus on the notebook in his hand, a tablet in a black protective case hanging at his side from a cross-body strap for protection. He's wearing a casual green tank top and some brown cargo pants with hiking boots.

It's not super clear what he's doing, other than seeming rather happy in the sun. At least until he hears a branch snap from the direction of the pair of lost drones. It makes him turn so fast that they barely catch the decal on his shirt, a lemon and lime with drawn on faces that reads 'Sour Power', before he's fallen backwards with a yelp.

#b-free blog #murder drones rp #Mo Interaction #Sorry it took so long to get to this

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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Aim for the Sky Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley starts building his daughter's playset with a little help from an unexpected visitor. He wants to finish all of his projects and take care of you and do as much as he can now that he's home. There's so much he wants to get done, it might be time to make a to-do list.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, oral, pregnancy, bit of angst

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley was up at the crack of dawn on Saturday. His afternoon nap the previous day turned into one that lasted into the evening when you got up with him and cooked him dinner before going back to bed. His plan was to come home and take care of everything so you didn't have to, but so far you made him homemade chicken fajitas and lulled him to sleep with your fingers in his hair, twice.

But today, he was determined to return the favor. He wanted to get started on building the jungle gym, and he wanted to get in a few reps on his own workout equipment in the garage. He'd clean up the kitchen and take Tramp for a walk later, too. If he got started now, he might be able to build the entire jungle gym frame for his daughter. His daughter. He ran his hands over his face as you snoozed right next to him in bed. Would he ever stop being on the verge of tears when he thought about it?

There was a list of names he liked in the Nugget notebook which was still tucked away in his duffle bag. He had a favorite, but he didn't want to try to convince you that it was perfect until he heard which ones you liked. But he knew it would be perfect.

"Roo?"

He was just about to slip out of bed when you rolled toward him, reaching for him groggily like you couldn't quite believe he was really home. "There's my Baby Girl," he whispered, letting his hand settle on your belly now that you were awake. "And my Nugget."

In an instant, you pushed him onto his back, kissing him as he cradled you with both hands. Your bump wasn't very big yet, but it was noticeable, and he didn't want to hurt you. God he missed waking up next to you, and it was obvious you'd missed him, too. You deepened the kiss, your tongue dipping between his parted lips until you were tasting his mouth. He could feel your nipples harden against his chest through a layer of cotton as you dragged your fingers through his hair before letting them trail down his body to the waistband of the shorts he fell asleep in.

"Okay," he grunted, already hard for you as you ran your index finger inside the elastic. "Take it easy, Sweetheart. Wanna make this last." He rolled you gently onto your back as you cupped him inside his shorts, your thumb stroking his length. You squeezed his balls gently, spreading your legs wide. He glanced down your body as you smirked at him. "If you're gonna show off that pretty pussy, I'll put my mouth all over it."

"Bradley," you moaned, turning your head to the side. How on earth that bashful smile could make him even wilder, he had no idea. But just when he ran his thumb along your wet slit and tickled your ear with his mustache, someone started pounding on the front door.

You squeaked and jolted beneath him, but not in the way he wanted. "What the fuck?" he growled, easing his body off of yours. Once he was standing, he tried to adjust himself in his shorts, but it was obvious he was hard. Then there was more pounding.

"It's your first weekend home. Did you seriously invite someone over here this early, Bradley?" you asked, squinting as you reached for your phone. "It's seven o'clock!"

"No," he grunted. "I didn't even talk to anyone! I just wanted to eat your pussy in peace."

He stormed out of the bedroom, adjusting himself as he went. Tramp was already pacing back and forth and whimpering at the front door when Bradley saw Jake's car parked in front of the house. "Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me." He wrenched the door open and found Jake standing there with some grocery bags and a box of donuts. "What do you want?" Bradley barked while Tramp started licking the unwanted visitor's leg.

Jake strolled inside like he wasn't interrupting Bradley's blissful weekend of giving his wife head and finding out his Nugget is a girl. "I brought all of the groceries and everything," Jake answered, heading for the kitchen, completely unfazed by Bradley in nothing but his compression shorts. "Welcome home, by the way. Looks like the perfect day to start on that playset."

Bradley didn't particularly want to jump down his throat, especially since Jake had been the one to promise to get the damn thing built for the baby if he didn't make it home in one piece. "Why are you here exactly?" he asked, and then he heard your voice from down the hallway.

"Is that Jake?"

"Yes," Bradley and Jake replied at the same time. And then you appeared wearing that old shirt and a pair of Bradley's gym shorts and your glasses, and he wanted to drag you back to bed and put his mouth everywhere.

"What the hell?" you asked, stomping right up to Jake, clearly annoyed that Bradley's face wasn't between your thighs. "You practically woke us up!"

"Well, that's not completely true," Bradley muttered with a smirk, earning a glare from you.

Jake checked the clock on the microwave. "It's 7:18. When you texted me last night and said Rooster was home, you told me to come over around seven."

"I meant seven in the evening!" you said, flailing your arms. "Like a normal person!"

Jake just shrugged and bit into a donut. "I brought the groceries you asked for."

Bradley watched you and saw the exact moment you caved. The annoyance on your face melted away as you grabbed a cream donut from the box. "Wait, why did you ask Jake to bring groceries over?"

You nibbled on the donut and snuggled up against Bradley, looking up at him as you said, "I wanted to make Reuben his cookies today, but I didn't want to leave you to go to the store."

He kissed some powdered sugar from your lips and whispered, "You're the sweetest thing."

You pressed your cheek to his chest and said, "Since he's here, you might as well get Jake to help you with the pallets on the driveway since I can't lift anything that heavy."

Bradley cringed just thinking about it. "You will not be lifting a fucking finger, Sweetheart. I'll take care of everything." He looked at Jake over your head and asked, "Feel like helping me get started on the playset?"

He had half of a second donut in his mouth as he mumbled, "I thought that's why I was here."

----------------------------

Bradley didn't put any more clothing on, and that was a-okay with you. He just added his work boots to the mix. Those black compression shorts were working overtime as he and an equally shirtless Jake hauled everything from the driveway to the backyard. He already cleared out the area where the playset would go, framed it in with long wood planks and filled it with gravel, and today they would start assembling the frame.

Your plan to make five dozen cookies for Reuben kept getting derailed as you wandered over to the sliding glass door every five minutes or so. The yard wasn't very big, and now most of it would be taken up by the patio, shed and playset, but you'd let your husband build anything he wanted back there. He was so excited about the baby, it made you feel lightheaded.

You were pregnant with a girl. Maybe she'd have Bradley's wavy hair. Maybe she would look just like him. You leaned against the open door frame and watched the guys as they argued about a drill bit setting and smiled. When you caught Bradley's eye, he shouted out, "I love you," before continuing with his discussion. He loved you so well, you already knew he'd be just as devoted to his daughter.

The oven started beeping, letting you know it had preheated. You ran your hand down your body and whispered, "Your father is going to spoil you rotten." Then you put the first tray of chocolate chip cookie dough in the oven, and within minutes your entire house smelled amazing. You baked so many cookies for Reuben, you didn't see how he would even be able to eat all of them before they got stale, so you shaped the last batch into little heart cookies with your fingers before tossing them in the oven.

Then when you took a bite out of one of the cookies that was cooling on the counter, you felt her. It was that same light, fluttering sensation as last time when you tried to eat a piece of candy on Halloween. "Hi," you whispered, voice laced with excitement. "Do you have a sweet tooth?" There was more fluttering, and you grabbed at the edge of the counter as you laughed. "You do! Are you going to eat everything I bake just like your dad?"

You closed your eyes and chewed the cookie slowly, letting yourself linger in the kitchen over the feel of your daughter doing some kind of a wild somersault for you.

"It's getting hot out," came Bradley's voice through the open door. "Let's grab some drinks before we drill the brackets into place." Once he was inside with Jake, he started digging around in the refrigerator, retrieving two cans of beer and two water bottles. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked as he handed Jake a bottle and a can. He was eyeing you cautiously where you stood with your hand on your belly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you whispered, and now both men were looking at you. "The Nugget was just doing some backflips."

"She was?" Bradley asked in excitement, leaving his forgotten drinks on the counter next to the refrigerator. In an instant, he was on his knees in front of you, yanking your shirt up and kissing your belly button while his big, warm hands settled against you. "Is she still?"

"She?" Jake asked with a smile, and you smiled back while Bradley shushed him.

"I think it's still too early for you to feel anything this way," you whispered, tugging your fingers through Bradley's sweaty hair as his stubbled cheek came to rest on your bump.

"Hey, little Nugget," he murmured while Jake took his drinks and slipped back outside. "Can you let Daddy feel like one little thump?" You could feel her squirming around while he talked, but she was probably still too small for him to get what he wanted. "Please?"

You didn't rush him. Bradley just knelt there with his eyes closed for a few minutes while you played with his hair. Now that Jake knew you were having a girl, you may as well just call your parents this week and tell all of your friends as well.

Bradley groaned and hopped to his feet as soon as Jake started up one of his power tools on the patio. He kissed you, his sun-warmed torso pressed against you as he said, "I need to make sure he doesn't break anything." You were still laughing as he rushed outside.

---------------------------

The backyard was coming together nicely. After you fed Jake dinner and he finally left, Bradley undressed you and picked you up, setting you down on the edge of the counter where you could look out the window as the sky darkened. "You got a lot done today," you moaned while Bradley spread your legs and ate your pussy, picking up where he left off this morning. "Such a dedicated Daddy."

"Anything for the Nugget," he groaned before licking a long stripe up to your clit. His forehead bumped your growing belly which thrilled him as he slowly, meticulously brought you every bit of pleasure you should have had in bed earlier. His mind was swirling with all of the projects he had to do and the torn apart attic, and he was still exhausted from being away for so long. But he got lost in your taste and the sounds you were making as soon as he started sucking gently on your clit.

"You know what that fucking mustache does to me," you gasped while he tried not to grin. His fingers found your dainty tattoo, and he sucked on your clit a little harder until you were begging him to fuck you. He wanted to tell you no and draw your orgasm out of you on the kitchen counter, but then you demanded, "I want to come on your cock."

Carefully, so he didn't dare hurt you, he helped you slide off the counter and into his arms. "If this is uncomfortable for you, then you need to tell me, Baby Girl." But you were already spinning around and pressing your gorgeous ass back against him.

"Fuck me," you whined, and Bradley was more than happy to oblige.

He lined himself up with your slick entrance and pushed himself deep as he said, "I thought you told me you weren't as horny in the second trimester."

You were whimpering his name before you got control. "Well now that you're home, I guess I am."

"Music to my ears."

He went slowly, making sure you felt everything, and he cupped your belly and your fucking delicious breasts while you held onto the counter. Your body felt different to him, but in so many ways it was exactly the same. Your response never changed; you always welcomed him knowing he'd get you there no matter what. And you gripped him tight, rolling your hips back to meet him, stroke for stroke.

When he plucked at your nipples, you arched your back, and when he rolled your clit between his fingers, you started to come. He was right there, too, and you pushed him over the edge when you said, "Make a mess of my pussy, Roo."

"Damn it," he growled, lips pressed to your shoulder as he filled you up and kept himself thrust deep to enjoy the squeeze of your orgasm around him. When you straightened up but held him snug inside you, your head tipped back against his shoulder. "How was that, Sweetheart?" he crooned, and you moaned. Then your stomach growled loudly, and he chuckled.

"I'm so hungry. Didn't we just eat dinner?"

"My little Nugget is growing," he whispered, letting his chin rest on your shoulder so he could look at your tits. He brought his hands up so he could swipe his thumbs along your nipples. "I swear these fucking thing are getting bigger by the day," he mused while you reached for the plastic container of chocolate chip cookies. You held it up and let him take a bite before finishing the rest of it yourself. "Weren't these supposed to be for Reuben?" he asked.

You pointed to the island where several gallon sized bags were filled with cookies. "His are regular. The little heart shaped ones in this container are for you."

Bradley could have stood there forever with his hands all over the front of you and his softening cock still inside your pussy while you fed him heart shaped cookies and told him the baby was moving around again. "I want to feel her," he whispered.

Your head tipped back again as you said, "I know, Roo. Pretty soon she'll be kicking up a storm, excited about meeting her dad."

Then you started yawning and he finally took a reluctant step away from you. "It's time for bed," he said, patting your ass. "It was an early morning with Jake showing up and everything." He followed you to the bathroom and helped you clean up his cum from your legs, and then he waited until you were done washing your face and brushing your teeth to lead you to bed. He handed you a clean pair of his boxer briefs and watched you pull them up so the elastic sat just below your bump. He smiled, and before you could pull on his ancient UVA shirt, he pulled you closer.

"Can I help you with something?" you asked, giving him a coy look. "You ready to go for round two?"

He raised one eyebrow. "Are you ready to go for round two?" You were smiling but already stifling another yawn when he guided you toward the bed and tugged his shirt over your head. "You need to rest. I'll fuck you twice tomorrow."

You pulled the blanket up and whispered, "This is all Jake's fault."

Bradley snorted as he pulled the blanket back down, yanked up the shirt and leaned down to press his lips to your warm breasts. You whimpered as he kissed both nipples and ran his nose along your perfectly soft skin. "I can't get enough of these fucking things. My god, Sweetheart." He forced himself to pull the shirt back into place when you started to squirm, quickly kissing your bump first. After he removed your glasses and set them aside, he reached for the lamp on your nightstand.

"Aren't you getting in bed?"

He shook his head. "I'll clean the kitchen and let Tramp out first, and then I'll be in. I love you both."

"Love you, Roo," you curled up on your side, already falling asleep when you added, "You know what I'm hungry for?"

"What's that, Baby Girl?"

"Hot sauce."

He had to stifle his laughter as he whispered, "Finally. I'll take care of that tomorrow, too. I'll just add it to my list. Two rounds of sex, more playset building, and some hot sauce."

You were already sound asleep.

-----------------------------

When you got up on Sunday morning, Bradley and Tramp were nowhere to be found, but both Broncos were in the driveway. "Roo?" You were met with silence as you made yourself some coffee and filled a glass with water. He had covered the refrigerator in rows of ultrasound photos, and you couldn't help but laugh at the way he used up all of the magnets. You picked up one of the now stale donuts that Jake left, and that's when you found a note from your husband.

Walking Tramp to the beach. Back soon. I have my phone. Tell the Nugget I love her.

You smiled, looked down at your belly and said, "Your Daddy loves you." The way she immediately started to squirm and flutter around had you reaching for the counter. "Feels like you love him, too."

You moved his note to the side, and your fingers brushed a handwritten list, partially folded up and sitting on top of all of Bradley's unopened mail that you'd collected. The last time you went through his things, you ended up in a very dark place after you saw the results from the sperm test he took. You didn't want to do that again. You could just want until he got home. He wouldn't be long now.

But you stood there and read the first two things written which weren't hidden from your view. Contact lawyer. Send check to Nicole.

Who was Nicole? And why was Bradley contacting a lawyer without you? Your skin prickled as you reached for the piece of paper before pushing it further away. You considered going to get your phone from the bedroom to call him and tell him to come home, but instead you stood there and got frustrated. You did not want to do this to yourself again.

When he walked inside a few minutes later wearing snug gym shorts and a white tank, he was all smiles as Tramp ran for his water bowl. "Morning," he rasped, yanking his aviators down lower on his nose as he hung up the leash. "You look cute."

You didn't though. You hadn't showered, and you didn't even brush your teeth yet. "Can we talk about what's on this list?"

His brow furrowed and he froze. "What list?"

"This one," you said as calmly as you could. "The one where you wrote about contacting a lawyer and someone named Nicole."

He made his way over to you and asked, "How much did you read?" as he tossed his sunglasses on the counter.

You crossed your arms over your bump and frowned. "That's all I read."

"Good." He snatched it up, unfolded it and handed it to you. "It's my list of things I want to take care of today or tomorrow."

You read the list from top to bottom.

Contact lawyer

Send check to Nicole for permit

Order album for ultrasounds

Call Bradley Ross

Hot sauce reservation for my Baby Girl

Text Reuben

Offer to babysit Jeremiah

Order a new drill bit to replace the one Jake broke

Decide on Thanksgiving plans

"Oh," you said, meeting his eyes as you handed it back to him. "Who's Bradley Ross?"

He folded up the list again as he said, "The contractor who is going to re-do our attic however you want it."

"Oh." You pressed your lips together before you asked, "Are you going to tell me why you want to talk to a lawyer and who Nicole is?"

"Come here," he rasped, and you tucked yourself into his arms, your lips brushing his paper airplane tattoo. "I want a lawyer to add the Nugget to my will. And I think you should come with me to make sure literally everything is in order. for yourself, too." You nodded against him, and then he added, "And I really don't want to tell you who Nicole is, because it will ruin the surprise. But I've never even met her, and I have no idea who she actually is."

"That sounds weird."

"It's not, I promise, Sweetheart."

You looked up into his eyes, his gaze soft as he ran his hand slowly up and down your back. You already felt better just talking to him. "Fine. Keep your secrets. But the surprise had better be a good one."

He nodded. "It's something for our anniversary. You'll love it. Now why don't you bring your coffee outside and keep me company while I work on the playset?"

You were starting to melt. "I could do that."

"Then we can take a shower together?" he asked hopefully. "You can wash my hair?"

You melted a little bit more. "I would love that."

"And then I'll take you out to dinner."

You sat out on the patio in the sun for a while, not doing much to help Bradley other than occasionally catcall and make sure he drank enough water. Then you took a luxurious shower, complete with hair washing and sex against the wall. He was taking you up to the hot sauce restaurant in Del Mar where you had your first date, and you squeezed yourself into the red dress you wore that night.

Bradley was acting like his brain was short circuiting, and maybe it was. "Holy fucking hell," he groaned, gripping the edge of the dresser when he came to check to see if you were ready to go. He was staring at you like he was in agony as he bit down on his knuckle. He let out a soft wheezing sound before he said, "You're pregnant. In your red dress."

You looked down at yourself; you didn't think it looked that bad. "Yes?"

He rushed forward and grabbed your hand. "That's so fucking sexy. We've gotta go. Now. Or else we'll never leave the house."

"Roo!" you laughed as he pulled you along. "I don't even have shoes on."

He threatened to carry you everywhere before you successfully put on a cute pair of shoes. Then you and he dropped the cookies off at Reuben's place, and you gave the other aviator a kiss on the cheek and thanked him for looking after Bradley. And then the two of you were back in the blue Bronco, winding up the coastal highway as the sun set over the ocean. It was nearly Thanksgiving. It was almost your first wedding anniversary. The Nugget was back to doing somersaults. And finally, you were craving hot sauce again.

-----------------------------

This man already loves his kiddo. BG is about to have a do over for the steak dinner that got ruined when she was in Annapolis. I still don't know what they are doing for Thanksgiving (good thing it's on his to-do list), but they will definitely be celebrating their first anniversary very soon! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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hummingbird24220 · 3 months ago

Note

Can I request genderfluid! Reader just chilling out with the strawhats. Maybe they have a devil fruit that lets them have complete control of their body (within reason). I imagine Luffy, Chopper and Franky find it very cool, chopper and robin definitely want to find out the limits of their devil fruit. Sanji gets very flustered by their changing (they definitely use their fem body to get more snacks) and shopping trips with Nami. The rest of the straw hats are pretty indifferent to their devil fruit power (unless you have a cool idea for them) Also feel free to play around with how the devil fruit works if you want!

This was more rambling then I expected, you don’t have to write about all the strawhats if that’s too much you can just pick your favourite!

Hello! Yes, absolutely. Ive never written Genderfluid!Reader before, so i hope i did it justice.

----

Shifting Tides - Part 1

One Piece x Genderfluid!Reader

Part 2

The Thousand Sunny bobbed gently on a calm, glittering sea. No Navy. No bounty hunters. No chaos.

In other words: the perfect day to do absolutely nothing.

“Y/Nnnnn!” Luffy's voice echoed across the deck, limbs flailing as he bolted toward you. “Let me see the stretchy one again!”

You stretched your arm lazily above your head, grinning. “Stretchy one, huh? You mean this one?”

Your form rippled slightly as your body shifted—arms lengthening, fingers flexing like elastic, before snapping back into a different version of yourself. Taller. Buffer. Your voice a little deeper, cocking an eyebrow at Luffy.

“YOOOOOOO!” Luffy gasped, eyes sparkling. “THAT’S SO COOOL!”

Franky, polishing something vaguely explosive nearby, paused to adjust his shades and nod appreciatively. “That’s a super fruit you got there, bro! Sis? Bro-sis?”

You chuckled, morphing again mid-sentence—your frame shrinking slightly, hair flowing out longer, features softening. “I’m just me, Franky. But hey, you can call me whatever fits. I shift more than this ship does in a storm.”

Chopper practically popped out of the infirmary, notebook in hand and eyes gleaming with scientific curiosity. “I have so many questions! Do your organs change? Your bones? What about your hormone levels—do you produce different amounts depending on your form?!”

You laughed and ruffled his hat, ignoring how Robin subtly appeared at your side, gaze curious but calm. “You’ll have to join the queue, Chopper. Robin’s been cataloging me like I’m a sentient encyclopedia entry.”

“I simply find the limits of your Devil Fruit fascinating,” Robin said with a small smile. “The Body-Body Fruit, was it? Total control of your own biology, within reason. Do you have to imagine the change or feel it?”

“Little of both,” you answered. “It’s not like drawing a picture—it’s more like… feeling myself stretch toward a different version of me.”

Robin tilted her head. “Have you ever considered turning into someone with wings?”

“Please don’t give them ideas,” Zoro muttered from his napping spot against the mast. “They’re weird enough already.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Love you too, sword boy.”

Sanji exited the kitchen right on cue, tray balanced on one hand. “Snacks are ready for—”

You switched to your more femme form with a flick of your wrist. Your hair bounced, your eyelashes batted, and your voice dropped to a sugary, singsong pitch.

“Saaaanjiii~ You’re so sweet to me~ Could I maybe get an extra plate? For all this shapeshifting, I really must replenish my calories~”

His nose erupted in a predictable geyser of blood as he collapsed backward with a dreamy sigh. “A-a-a-anything f-for you, mademoiselle…”

You winked at Nami, who had just walked up beside you with a shopping list.

“You’re so evil,” she said fondly, grabbing your arm. “Now c’mon. I need backup for the next island. Pretty faces get better discounts.”

“Just say you like shopping with me,” you teased, shifting seamlessly between forms as you posed dramatically. “This look or this one? Or maybe—” you flicked to something androgynous, long coat billowing behind you. “Battle-ready discount mode?”

Nami laughed, dragging you toward the helm. “Doesn’t matter, you’re paying half.”

Later, as the sun began to dip and the crew gathered for dinner, you relaxed in your favorite form—somewhere in-between. Hair tousled, voice warm and casual, you leaned back and watched your chaotic family bicker, laugh, and eat like pirates do.

Usopp was trying to convince Luffy he could also control his body with sheer will (“I can stretch my nose!” he claimed, yanking it violently). Brook played background music that didn’t match the tone at all. Sanji sneakily brought you another plate.

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” Zoro said, sipping from his sake cup, eyes half-lidded. “They change shape. So what?”

“Yeah,” you replied, mouth full. “And you fall asleep in every corner of the ship. We’ve all got talents.”

Robin smiled over the rim of her wine glass. “I think it’s nice. You’re truly yourself, however you choose to look.”

Luffy threw an arm around your shoulders. “You’re awesome! I wanna see what else you can do tomorrow!”

You leaned into him, grinning. “I’ll show you the stretchy one again, captain. But only if you don’t eat my dessert this time.”

“NO PROMISES!”

----

It started innocently enough.

Chopper had asked to do some basic testing—nothing invasive, just a few form swaps, flexibility checks, a reaction speed test, maybe a tissue sample or two (he was very polite about that part).

Robin had also taken notes. Pages and pages of neat handwriting. You were about 60% sure she was planning to write a paper on you.

“Can you shift muscle mass instantly?” “Yup.” “What about vocal pitch without altering your throat?” “Sure.” “Can you make yourself taller and still retain agility?” “Wanna race?” “What happens if you do this—” poke

Meanwhile, Luffy sat cross-legged in the middle of the deck, watching with wide, fascinated eyes. He clapped every time you transformed. “DO THE TALL ONE AGAIN!” You stretched up into a tall, broad-shouldered build with a sly grin. “Like this?” “YEAHHH! SO COOOOOL!”

Zoro leaned against the rail, arms crossed, brow furrowed.

“…Y’know,” he said after a while, squinting, “it’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” you asked, flexing one arm in a very gratuitous show of your newest build. You had gone with an athletic look—abs on display, golden skin glinting with sweat. It was giving swordsman rival energy and you knew it.

Zoro shifted slightly, cheeks just the faintest bit pink. “I mean… not bad weird. Just weird.”

Usopp peeked out from behind a barrel. “Yeah! Like, one second you look like a cool dude, and the next you're a hot girl, and then you’re just… something else entirely! It’s like—like—brain static!”

You looked down at your current form, which was leaning into gender-neutral grace: lithe, sharp-featured, with a killer jawline and the longest lashes you’d ever conjured.

Then you looked back at Usopp.

“I cause brain static?” you said, smirking.

Usopp made a sputtering noise. “I—I didn’t mean—I mean, maybe! But like, in a cool way!”

You shifted forms again, landing in your soft, femme form—the one with the dewy eyes and curves that made Sanji short-circuit every time.

You turned toward him slowly.

“Sanji~” He was already mid-spin with heart eyes before you finished the first syllable.

“YES, MY LOVE?!”

“…Do you prefer this version of me?”

THUD. Sanji collapsed. Again. Chopper was beginning to consider a “Sanji Nosebleed First Aid Kit” specifically for you.

Luffy wandered over and poked your face. “So wait… when you’re like this, are you still the same you?”

“Yup,” you said easily, shifting again—now back to a masculine build with striking eyes and a lazy smile. “Still me. Always me.”

Luffy tilted his head. “Then how come I feel different when you change?”

You paused. “Different… how?”

He frowned hard. “Like… when you’re the tall guy version, I wanna fight you. But when you’re the pretty one, I wanna give you meat. And when you’re in-between, I just wanna sit next to you.”

There was a silence.

Usopp and Zoro both looked away. Sanji was still unconscious. Chopper looked mildly stressed.

You stretched your arms above your head, cracking your neck. “I think that just means you’re into me, no matter what I look like.”

“OH.” Luffy looked thoughtful. “...Cool.”

You smirked and dropped into a lounging position in a sunbeam. “You guys overthink this way more than I do.”

Zoro groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “You’re too chill about this.”

You looked at him with a raised brow. “Why? You confused too?”

“…No.” “Yes,” Usopp whispered behind him. “Shut up, Usopp.”

Sanji groaned faintly from the deck. “Th-this is too powerful… weaponized attraction…”

You threw your head back and laughed.

“Y’all are lucky I’m nice. I could be so dangerous with this fruit.”

Robin flipped another page in her notes. “You already are.”

-----

It started during another chill day on the Sunny.

Nami had asked for your help at a merchant island—not because she needed it, but because shopkeepers tended to give you the “we-don’t-know-what’s-happening-but-we-like-it” discount.

You walked beside her in a charming, neutral look—cool, suave, just the right mix of soft and sharp.

She was talking about coral bracelets or something, but then she paused.

“…Wait,” Nami said, blinking at you. “Have you always had that jawline?”

You tilted your head. “Nope. Shifted it like ten minutes ago.”

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Then made a very quiet, very frustrated noise.

“…Do you ever not look attractive?” she muttered, mostly to herself.

You wiggled your eyebrows. “You noticing, Cat Burglar?”

Nami elbowed you in the ribs and stormed off muttering about “stupid sexy shapeshifters.”

Later, Robin walked beside you, arms folded elegantly, and said very softly:

“Do you find it enjoyable, causing identity crises in everyone on board?”

“Immensely,” you said, flipping your hair (which hadn’t been long ten seconds ago). “You feeling the brain static too, Robin?”

She hesitated. Then calmly said, “…I will neither confirm nor deny.”

-----

You didn’t have long to bask in your power.

Marines.

A small ship spotted yours, then sped toward it—clearly thinking a frontal assault on the Thousand Sunny was a good idea.

“Want me to take care of it?” you asked, already walking to the rail.

“No killing!” Luffy called from the deck.

“No promises,” you called back.

You were in your tall, femme form—long legs, battle-ready, impossibly elegant. You leapt onto the enemy ship mid-sprint.

“Hello boys,” you purred, one hand on your hip. “Need something?”

Half of them froze. The other half tried not to stare.

“We—we are here to apprehend—”

You shifted mid-sentence—taller, broader, a sharp masculine form with rolled-up sleeves and a very punchable smirk.

“Oh,” you said, cracking your knuckles. “You’re here to die.”

BOOM.

The deck exploded into screams and confusion as you pummeled through them—fluid, fast, a one-person hurricane. When one of them tried to run, you shrank into a petite, lithe body, dodging low and then slamming an elbow into his gut with brutal precision.

When the dust settled, you stood atop a pile of groaning Marines, adjusting your collar like it was just another Tuesday.

“Done.”

-------

Zoro invited you to train with him. That was a first.

You joined him in your most jacked, bulky form—biceps like tree trunks, tank top barely holding on. He eyed you once, nodded in approval, and threw you a sword.

You sparred for a while, clashing blades, sweat flying, both of you grunting in that way that said "respect earned."

Then, just as he swung for your shoulder, you ducked, spun, and shifted—

—into your smallest, most delicate-looking form. Wide eyes, sharp smile. A twirl and a flip over his blade.

Zoro froze. The sword missed you by a mile.

You landed behind him and whispered, “You always this easy to distract?”

He made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a gulp. “Don’t—do that.”

You winked. “What? Scared I’ll win cute too?”

-------

Later, you were lounging in the crow’s nest when Luffy climbed up beside you.

He flopped down, chin on your thigh like a lazy dog. “Hey.”

“Hey, Captain.”

“…What were you like before the fruit?”

You paused. Shifted forms once. Twice. A third time. Settled somewhere right in the middle.

“Mm,” you said. “Yes.”

Luffy blinked. “…What?”

You smiled. “Exactly.”

He giggled, kicked his legs lazily, and nodded. “Cool.”

You patted his head. He fell asleep ten seconds later.

---

You hadn’t expected it.

The Straw Hats were not a subtle crew, but they weren’t exactly known for heart-to-hearts either. Chaos? Absolutely. Fistfights? Daily. Group therapy? That was… new.

It started with a dinner.

You had walked in late—fresh from training, barefoot, a towel over your shoulders, and casually morphing from one body to another to get the stiffness out.

Tall to short. Femme to masc. A soft androgynous blend somewhere in the middle. Your muscles still ached pleasantly.

You sat down, yawned, and said, “Smells good.”

Sanji blushed so hard you worried he might combust.

The table was rowdy as usual—Luffy stuffing meat in his cheeks, Usopp talking with his hands, Nami counting coins, Franky yelling about cola, Brook asking someone to see their panties, Chopper taking notes on your post-training flexibility.

And then Robin—blessedly, elegantly, horrifyingly—spoke up.

“You know we love you, right?”

The table went dead silent.

Your brows raised. “Excuse me?”

Robin smiled faintly, eyes half-lidded. “All of us. In different ways, perhaps—but we do. No matter how you look, no matter what form you’re in.”

“YEAH!!” Luffy shouted around a mouthful of meat. “You’re YOU! That’s what matters!”

Chopper’s hooves flailed. “You’re so cool and strong and kind and funny and—I don’t care what you look like!!”

Nami leaned her chin on her hand. “Honestly, sometimes you’re prettier than me and I hate it—but you’re amazing. I trust you with my life.”

Usopp raised his cup. “I can’t even explain what I feel when I look at you. But it’s definitely… affection. And fear.”

Zoro huffed, arms crossed, eyes slightly averted. “…Tch. Doesn’t matter how you look. You’re a pain in the ass either way.”

“Translation,” Robin added smoothly, “is: Zoro also cares deeply.”

Franky jumped up, doing an exaggerated pose. “YOU’RE SUPERRRR! Doesn’t matter what body, gender, height, or hairstyle—if you’re one of us, you’re one of us! Forever!!”

Brook tilted his skull slightly. “I do not have eyes, but if I did, they would weep with admiration. You are lovely, my friend—no matter how you appear!”

Sanji, dead silent this whole time, stood awkwardly. He looked at you like you’d hung the moon. Slowly, he walked around the table, stopping right beside your seat.

You watched him.

He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh… I’ve said a lot of dumb stuff. Probably still will. But…”

He crouched beside you, one hand reaching—not to grab, but to rest gently over yours.

“You��re beautiful. All the time. In all the ways. But it’s not about that. I love you because you’re you. You’re strong, and clever, and stupidly good at messing with my head—but you make the Sunny feel more like home.”

You stared at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Sanji…”

He grinned, a little crooked. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

“Yep.”

The whole table groaned.

“You’re the worst,” Nami muttered.

You looked around, heart warm, body soft and relaxed in whatever form it chose. “You guys really mean it?”

Luffy gave you a big thumbs-up. “YEAH! You’re one of us!”

“You’re our crewmate,” Zoro said firmly. “No matter the body.”

Robin nodded. “And always loved.”

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “So does this mean I don’t have to do chores for a week?”

“NO,” everyone said at once.

You laughed so hard you almost fell off your chair.

Later that night, after the dinner, after the hugs, after the crew had dispersed into their chaotic sleep schedule, you sat at the bow of the Sunny—alone for a moment.

The wind blew through your hair—short, long, curly, straight. You didn’t even notice what form you were in anymore.

You were just… you.

And that was enough.

#one piece #x reader #luffy #nami #nico robin #reader insert #sanji #tony tony chopper #usopp #request #gender fluid

118 notes · View notes

evnseokz · 8 months ago

Note

anton riize smut during exam week?

pairing: bf! anton x reader

contents: stressed anton, oral sex (m receiving), throat fucking, cum swallowing

a.n: tysm for the request! sorry it took so long, i hope you enjoy!! w.c. 753

finals week had anton in a chokehold. the stress was eating him alive — notebooks stacked like towers on his desk, his highlighter caps long gone, and barely a second to breathe between papers and panic. he was buried in deadlines, worn thin by sleepless nights and caffeine-fueled cramming. and it showed — tension coiled through his shoulders, his jaw tight, posture slouched under the weight of it all.

you watched from the doorway for a moment, taking in the mess of his desk and the way his fingers were digging into his temple. he looked like he might snap.

quietly, you walked over, slipping behind him and gently placing your hands on his shoulders. he flinched at first, then melted into your touch with a soft sigh as your thumbs began kneading into the tight muscle under his hoodie.

“why don’t you take a break, toni?” you asked, voice soft and teasing.

he shook his head without turning around. “i can’t, baby. this is too important.”

you pouted, lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you leaned down. “just a tiny one? five minutes,” you whispered, “for me?”

he finally turned to look at you — your hands clasped together, lashes fluttering just a little dramatically. he sighed, somewhere between fond and defeated.

“…five minutes.”

you beamed, already pulling the elastic from your wrist and tying your hair back into a ponytail. before anton could process what was happening, you were on your knees between his legs, your hands gliding up his thighs in slow, deliberate circles.

his eyes widened, a flush blooming across his cheeks. “baby—what’s this?”

“i told you,” you smiled, kissing the inside of his thigh. “i’m giving you the best five-minute study break of your life.”

his breath hitched as your fingers found the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down along with his boxers in one swift motion. his cock was already thickening in anticipation, and the sight made your mouth water.

you looked up at him through your lashes, licking your lips slowly before wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. he was hot and heavy in your palm, and as you pumped him a few times, you felt him twitch under your touch.

anton groaned low in his throat as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the flushed tip before slowly taking him into your mouth. his hips jerked slightly at the warmth of your tongue, a stuttered “f-fuck” escaping as his head tipped back against the chair.

you worked him with your mouth and hand, taking him as deep as you could, using your hand to stroke what you couldn’t fit. he was already falling apart — breathing hard, his thighs trembling under your grip. one hand tangled in your ponytail, not to push, but to guide — a quiet, desperate plea for more.

“taking me so well,” he murmured, voice thick with praise. “god, your mouth…”

you hollowed your cheeks around him, pulling back just enough to swirl your tongue around the head, drawing a whimper from his throat. then you leaned in again, licking a slow stripe from the base to the tip before taking him fully back into your mouth.

his grip in your hair tightened.

you could feel it in the way he began to roll his hips — gently at first, then a little more urgently, fucking into your mouth in slow, shaky thrusts. he was getting close.

“s-so close,” he gasped, his voice nearly breaking. “baby, fuck—doing so good…”

his cock throbbed in your mouth as his hips stuttered, and you let him chase his release, eyes fluttering shut as he moaned deep and loud, spilling down your throat. his whole body trembled through it, panting hard, fingers still buried in your hair as you swallowed every drop.

you pulled back slowly, lips red and wet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you looked up at him with a satisfied little smile.

anton opened his eyes, dazed and pink-cheeked. “fuck,” he whispered, still catching his breath.

his hands reached down to tug you up into his lap, pulling you in for a kiss that was messy and needy and full of something more than just lust.

“studying can wait,” he muttered against your lips. “i need to be inside you.”

…

307 notes · View notes

gurugirl · 2 years ago

Text

Bad Morning

professor!harry x professor!y/n

A/N: Started writing this a few days ago and then I got a request just now that just went so well with what I was already writing and this pic is giving these vibes so... here is the result. + a little background if you're interested.

Summary: You run late to an important meeting with your colleagues and Professor Styles decides to punish you.

Word Count: 3650

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, spanking with a paddle, slight degradation, punishment, barely proofread

It really had been just a shitty morning all around. Your alarm went off on time but in your half haze of sleep, you shut it off instead of snoozing it and so when you finally did bolt out of your bed to get ready you knew you’d be late for your meeting.

You didn’t even have time to button up your shirt properly. Running to your car carrying your bags in one arm with your mug of coffee in your free hand sloshing all over the ground and a toothbrush stuck in your mouth you knew you looked like a maniac.

Speeding down the street to get to the university (you were lucky it was only a 15-minute drive) you found a hair elastic to pull your strands into a bun the moment you parked. You’d barely touched your coffee, well, most of it was on your skirt, and your toothbrush fell into the floorboard below your feet when you opened your mouth to curse at the slow driver in front of you.

Parking in the closest spot you could find you quickly smoothed your hair down and tied it back with the elastic, thankful that you’d even found one, and grabbed your bags before running at full speed to enter the building and run through the hallways toward the science labs where Mr. Styles and the rest of the science and tech professors were likely waiting for you.

Today was a big day. You would be settling on a plan for the range of your experiments and choosing which students to bring along the following week to the energy conversion laboratory in Colorado.

“Ms. Y/L/N. How nice of you to finally join us.”

You rolled your eyes as you quickly sat down on the floor, dropping your bags down before you crossed your legs and raised your brows at your devastatingly handsome colleague, “Sorry. Bad morning.” Was all you could say as you dug your notebook out. You hated how attractive he was. That you noticed how well-built he was and how he carried himself like he owned everything around him. And as much as you hated it (mostly because he was such a dick) you often imagined him taking you into his office out of nowhere. Spanking you and spitting dirty words into your ears. You even imagined him slapping you with those ringed fingers and fucking you with what you were sure was a nice big cock.

Professor Harry Styles was quite intimidating, though. You and all the staff thought so. He wasn’t unreasonable but he was very strict. Your teaching and working style was totally opposite of his but since you were both in the same department, your paths crossed often. Daily. Which meant you had plenty of fodder for yourself late at night when you were alone.

You shook your head at your dirty thoughts.

You and the other science and tech professors were in the process of planning a huge trip to a specialty lab your university didn’t have. It would be a costly trip and the school was footing most of the bill after raising close to a quarter of a million dollars for the “excursion”.

Everyone spoke in turn with their ideas and shared which of their students they’d like to bring. Each professor would choose two students (of those who volunteered to take part in the trip and experiment).

You’d selected your two and then offered an idea about coordinating schedules for the experiments and taking turns. You opened your notebook and explained your thoughts based on the notes you’d taken, “So, then on the third day, the third group can follow the timeline we set in place for group number 1–“ you continued to rattle off timelines, and looked up at Harry who did not appear impressed by you at all. In fact, his glare had you forgetting for a moment where you were going with what you were saying and you paused briefly before finally finishing your thought.

The entire meeting went like that. Glares from the head science professor aimed at you, making you feel tiny and unwelcome. You were a new professor but you’d earned your spot and you weren’t going to let him intimidate you (except for in your fantasies). You’d apologized for being tardy and while it was unfortunate that you’d showed up nearly thirty minutes late to a very important scheduled meeting, what was done was done. You couldn’t go back in time and have a redo. Though, you wished you could.

Everyone stood up when Harry clapped his big hands together and indicated that the meeting was over. You had no classes that day, as it was Saturday (another reason you’d slept through your alarm because you’d been out the night before).

You stuffed your notebooks into your bags and stood up, pushing your glasses back up to the bridge of your nose after they’d slipped the tiniest bit. You also hadn’t had time to put your contacts in. Obviously.

And just as you were about to make a beeline for the door and get out of there before anyone could talk to you, you were stopped in your tracks when you heard the low baritone of Harry calmly speaking your name.

You turned to look behind you at the tall man and realized he was dressed quite casually in a Mickey Mouse t-shirt that said I love you, the love being a red heart balloon. It was cute. And it almost made him less intimidating. Almost.

“Yes, Harry.” You addressed him by his first name the way he had just addressed you by yours as you turned to face him. He was already taking long-legged strides toward you, his face set in a serious expression, just as it had been for the duration of the meeting.

You stood in your spot as three teachers left the room and Harry stood over you, “Come to my office.”

That was all he said. And it wasn’t a question, but rather a command, which honestly you were used to with him by that point.

Harry had been at the university for quite some time. His office was one of the nicer and bigger ones. You’d seen it before in passing but had never stepped in until that day.

“You were late today,” Harry spoke as he closed his door behind him and then made his way across his office toward you. He sat at the edge of his desk and crossed his ankles together.

“Yeah, I know.” You scoffed. What was he playing at?

“Care to explain to me why you were so late to such an important group meeting?”

You blinked your eyes and began to sit in one of the chairs he had in front of his desk but he stood quickly and grasped your elbow, “I didn’t say you could sit.”

You looked down to where he was touching your arm and back to his face, “What are you doing?”

Harry pulled you to stand facing his desk and brought your arm down so your palm was flat on his desk, “Teaching you a lesson. If you want to survive being a professor at this university you need to learn discipline and respect.”

You turned to watch him as he stood behind you. You honestly were so confused by what was happening but when you looked at his eyes and noticed that he was dragging his gaze down your backside you stood up straight and removed your palm from the desk, “Mr. Styles! You are out of line. I was late, yes, but–“

He stepped in toward you, pressing his chest to your back, grasping your wrists, and making you place your palms back down onto the wood, “Do not move, Y/N. Not until I tell you to.”

He moved away from you and circled his desk to face you, opening a drawer with a key as he spoke, “We both know you have an attitude that needs fixing.”

You were suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed as your breaths deepened. Everything that was happening was straight out of your fantasy. It was as if you were writing this whole scene out from start to finish. You wondered where this was going. You were curious what he would do next.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open as you watched him lay a paddle across his desk in front of you.

“Couldn’t even dress yourself properly. Look at you,” he gestured to your haphazard buttoning job and you realized your bra was exposed as you looked down over yourself. You laughed and looked back up at him but his face was not amused.

“I was in a hurry. I’m sorry if this offends–“

“Please stop talking.” He lifted the paddle up and rounded his desk to stand behind you.

The sudden awareness of what was going on had your skin pimpling with goosebumps. You were wearing a knee-length skirt and realized that all he had to do was lift it to expose your bottom to him. Your white panties covered your bum but it wouldn’t be hard for him to paddle you right through the thin material.

As your thoughts grew lewder about what was coming and what Mr. Styles would do you squished your thighs together and adjusted your palms as you turned to look over your shoulder at the professor.

“I’m going to give you 30 paddles to your bottom. One for every minute you were late. How does that sound for a punishment?”

You inhaled deeply and looked down at the leather-wrapped paddle and back to his eyes. It was wild that he’d even suggest it all. And so casually too? But of course, you understood that he was asking permission. Perhaps this was the beginning of some sort of thing you and he would have in secret.

You nodded slowly, “Yes, professor. I think that’s fair.” You gulped down your saliva. You had never been spanked with a paddle before so you hoped saying yes was the right choice.

Harry grunted as he let his eyes drop to your ass and when you felt him pull at your skirt and lift it up ward you held your breath and closed your eyes, turning to face his desk again.

But the small little groan you heard from behind you had your eyes popping open. It sounded like the groan of a man who was turned on. Frustrated. You sure hoped that was the case.

“Can you keep quiet like a good girl?” His dark tone was pinched as you felt his warm hand brush over your ass before pushing the material of your skirt up to your waist.

“Yes, sir.”

The shuttered breath he let out as he groped your ass, palming at the material of your panties had your heart thumping hard under your ribs. He was enjoying this.

“Good.”

The suddenness of the first hit had you rocking forward quickly and yelping. You hadn’t been prepared for it. You’d been spanked with bare hands before. Not with a paddle.

“Shh… said you could be a good girl for me. One more outburst and I’ll stuff these panties into your mouth.”

You didn’t know why but that idea had you moaning softly and rolling your eyes to the back of your head.

The next strike you were prepared for. You gritted your teeth and panted as he brought it down again on the other side, “That’s three. From now on, I need you to count for me. Keep track so I don’t. have to.”

You breathed out heavily and nodded, “Yes, sir.”

4, 5, 6, 7… All within range of you being able to tolerate the pain and keep your little noises in.

But 8? For some reason 8 came down especially hard and stung like a mother fucker so you gasped and cried out loudly.

The paddle was suddenly placed on the desk next to your hand and you tilted your head to look at your colleague as he met your eyes. Blown-out pupils and puffy, bitten lips. He looked like sex. He’d always looked like sex but in that moment…

“Tell me what happens when you can’t keep quiet.” He leaned over you, one palm down on the desk, his other smoothing over the cotton of your panties softly.

You gulped hard and blinked the tiny bit of tears away that had formed in your eyes, “You said you’d stuff my panties into my mouth.”

“S’right. At least you know how to listen. Too bad you don’t know how to keep quiet.”

You nodded, “I’m sorry, sir.” You really didn’t want him to stop. It hurt but you loved the way it felt to have this man standing over you and spanking you. Watching you. Enjoying the view he had of you.

“So what should I do, then?”

You gasped when you felt his thumb push under the elastic of your panties and slip over your bottom, “Take my panties off and put them into my mouth. Like you said.”

Harry’s lips turned up into a sinister grin and you watched his tongue swipe over his bottom lip before he nodded and moved behind you, both hands now in the elastic of your cotton panties as he dragged them down your thighs.

You felt him pause his motions and once your ass was fully bare to him. You were sure with the way you were leaned over his desk that he could see your pussy too.

“Fuck…” his words were whispered into the room before he gently tugged your panties the rest of the way down your legs and you stepped, one foot at a time to have them removed completely.

When his hands found your bottom you felt him massage your cheeks and suck in a sharp breath, “You okay?”

It was the first time he sounded as if he were truly concerned about you. Perhaps he could see the marks he’d given you with the paddle. Or maybe it was just that you were so exposed to him in that moment.

“Yes, sir. I’m fine.” Your voice was a little shaky. You were on edge completely. You’d be thinking about this tonight for sure, and for many nights to come. But you still hadn’t determined if it was even really happening.

Harry leaned over you and you felt the cloth of his pants brush against your ass, “Mrs. Y/L/N, you are absolutely soaked. Did you know that? Had to be careful pulling your wet panties down your legs and now looking between your thighs I can see how much you are enjoying this. Not much of a punishment is it?”

His deep voice traveled down the shell of your ear and to your neck as you softly moaned and shook your head, “No. It’s not much of a punishment. I like it.”

You heard him chuckle before lifting your messy panties up to your face, “Open.”

You complied as he shoved the cotton into your mouth and then returned to his position behind you.

“Since you can’t count for me anymore I’m going to do it for you now.”

The 9th swat came down and the sting of the paddle against your bare bottom made you yelp out, though it was nice and muffled just as Harry had hoped.

The progression of each of his swats only made you drippier and pushed you further away from reality. And as he counted, the higher the numbers rose, you could hear the lust and pain in his voice. He was putting himself on edge by just watching you squirm and get wetter and wetter between your thighs.

At number 21 you didn’t know what you were doing anymore. You needed to end your misery. Without much of a thought in your brain (you were hardly able to connect your thoughts together by that point) you removed one hand from the desk as you leaned forward further over the wood and spread your legs before you began rubbing your clit.

Harry stopped quickly and you heard the clunk of the paddle fall to the floor and then his hand was grasping your wrist, yanking it away from your pussy, “What the fuck are you doing?”

You felt fuzzy and so far beyond caring about anything but coming you moaned in muffled words as you tried to speak through your panties. You could barely open your eyes as you felt his hand on your chin to turn your face toward him.

“You are dirty, aren’t you? Naughty, dirty, disrespectful professor,” Harry pulled the panties from your mouth and you gasped softly, drool falling from your mouth over his hand that remained at your jaw.

“Is there no punishment that will set you right?”

His own face was flushed and his eyelids were heavy with lust.

You thought about his question but you had no answer for him. You couldn’t put your thoughts together to form a sentence even if you wanted to. You moaned and reached a hand for his forearm as you turned your body toward his, causing your skirt to fall and cover your bits.

Harry pulled you in close and pressed your bottom into his desk, spreading your legs and lifting your skirt back up to expose you to him. He kept his eyes on yours as he used his free hand to softly swipe at the damp skin just next to your pussy. You bucked your hips into his hand and he laughed, “And desperate too.”

The hand he had at your jaw smushed your cheeks together harshly, “And because I’ve been so good I think I deserve a treat. Don’t you?”

You moaned again and nodded, “Yes, sir.”

He grunted as he moved his hand from your face and began to unbuckle his pants. You looked down to where his cock was clearly engorged and pushing against the material of his pants, He got his zipper down and found his way back between your thighs, pushing you down flat to your back, “Can I have a treat?” He thumbed at your clit as he looked into your eyes and you nodded, “Yes. Please.”

“You sure? Because I have something very specific in mind. Want to know what it is?”

Nodding your head you reached for the collar of his t-shirt and pleaded with him, “I want to know. Please…” you hoped he’d fuck you. Hoped he’d rail you right on his desk just as you often imagined him doing.

He laughed darkly as he pulled his briefs down and his cock came in your view. He began stroking himself right over you, using his foreskin to pump his cock quickly and upward over his tip, repeatedly yanking and pulling as he looked from your pussy to your face, “This is my treat. Gonna fuck my fist and come all over your pussy.”

You watched in awe. His long cock and his fist jerking himself was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. You groaned and bucked your hips upward, “Please, Harry…” you whined.

Harry had one palm flat on the desk as he kept himself angled over you, his cock above your pussy, so close but not close enough for your liking. You wanted him inside of you.

He laughed as he continued pulling at his shaft and he began to pant his next words, “Not gonna fuck you because that would be a nice treat for you too. And you’ve been naughty, Y/n. So you don’t get my cock.”

You scrunched your brows together with a pout and brought your own hand down to your clit and moaned. Harry gasped as he neared his end but slowed his pumping as he slapped your hand away from your pussy, “You don’t get to come. This is your punishment,” he grunted as he got back to fucking himself with his fist.

You watched in awe as he began to slightly tremble and his soft moans got more frequent.

And just as you heard him cough out one loud moan you knew he was coming before you even felt the first drop of come spurt over your pussy. You took the moment to swipe his come up and your arousal and lift your fingers to his mouth, shoving your digits past his lips as he poured his hot sperm all over your wet pussy and down your thighs.

You moaned as he wrapped his mouth around your fingers, his palm still milking his cock, draining everything he had all over your labia. You felt his come drip down past your entrance and to your bum as he licked and sucked your fingers.

You’d never seen anything more erotic in your life. You wanted to come too but to watch him come on your pussy as he sucked on your fingers was worth it.

When he’d finally emptied everything he had he let go of his dick and you pulled your fingers from his mouth with a smirk on your face.

He pulled his pants back up and looked at the mess he’d made, “Guess you’re gonna have to go home and clean that up aren’t you?”

You sat up and watched him as he lifted your panties up and handed them to you, “Was thinking I’d just run to the bathroom first–“ “No. I want my come smeared all over your pussy and those panties full of your spit and your arousal. Want to know you had to sit in traffic all dirty and desperate.”

You scoffed but began to pull the panties up your legs anyway.

When you stood up and turned to look at the professor he was tucking his laptop into his bag, his eyes already on you, “Maybe next time, if you’re good for me, I’ll let you come.”

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