Sorry I Just Cant Resist

sorry I just can’t resist…😂🔥

“i am your wife”

⠀⠀ੈ♡˳· he's heavily injured and drugged with meds, and you're his wife.

⠀⠀➧ fluff | r. zoro  x f!reader | oneshot / scenario

⠀⠀➧ warnings — none. mistakes may be present tho.. so do ignore them, thanks.

⠀⠀➧ requests are closed.

⠀⠀꒰ 🍨 ꒱ notes: based on that one audio i heard from somewhere—and, hey lmao. still remember me? oh well, here's something after months of absence. 🤷‍♀️

your husband, zoro, was heavily injured after fighting enemies off when they attacked—and you, his wife, is beside him on the bed he's resting on, and your hand was gently stroking his hair, down to his cheeks, and then his chest.

“my wife...” zoro began, letting out a groan as he attempted to push your hand away from his chest, but having not much energy to do so.

“my wife, she'll get upset if.. if she sees you touching me like that, especially there on my chest..” he says as he looked down at his chest that you're stroking, a small frown on his face, obviously still under the drug chopper gave him. “don't touch me.. you're not my wife...”

“but zoro,” you whined, sighing as you smiled at him, still caressing his chest in that same gentle and loving manner, almost laughing at zoro's words.

“i am your wife...” you whispered, chuckling and smiling at zoro and his reaction—but he didn't reply just yet, just staring at you with his cheeks slightly dusted red, his heart rate noticeably increasing in the background.

“oh,” he gasped, looking at you with his eyes slightly wide as of a deer in headlights, cheeks flushed as he wore a soft smile on his face, also chuckling as he held your hand, a contented sigh leaving his lips. “right.. my wife. you are my wife. y/n.”

© butterfluffy 2023

⠀⠀ʚїɞ · likes, comments, reblogs, and/or feedbacks are highly appreciated!

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄. MASTERLIST !

✑ GENRE: slowburn. angst. nsfw 18+.

✑ WARNING: explicit language. mature themes. topics of violence and murder. stockholm syndrome (not the reader). sexual tension if you squint. reader is an executive. other bonten stuff. strictly mdni.

✑ SYNOPSIS: platonic love is a type of love that is neither sexual nor romantic; something that the executives have been feeling towards you for the past few years - or so they would like to believe.

CHAPTER ONE | PLATONIC LOVE. platonic love is a type of love that is neither sexual nor romantic; something that the executives have been feeling towards you for the past few years - or so they would like to believe.

CHAPTER TWO | ALL EYES ON YOU. tension fills the air as they get to know a lil’ bit of what you have in your closet.

CHAPTER THREE | THAT ONE AFTERNOON. there's something about [Name]'s gift that made everyone go crazy.

other chapters soon. . .

A fanfic idea:

Bruce was able to rescue Jason before he died, and after this experience, Jason stopped being Robin.

He became afterwards the golden child, he goes to college (with a scholarship), helps out in the city library, teaches children (helps with their homeworks and helps them to study), works part time in a car garage in crime alley, and is a supportive brother.

And it pisses his siblings off.

Because there has to be something fishy because no one, really no one, is that perfect.

And there is something fishy.

He is also Red Hood.

No one knows, and the vigilantes never talk to Jason about "the family business" because he needs to concentrate on his studies and other stuff.

So imagine, Batmans suprise when the JL was able to catch Red Hood.

Someone takes Jasons helmet off in front of Batman, Nightwing, and other members

And Jason, who wears also a domino mask, doesn't look Batman in the face even as he says :

"Hey Dad. I can explain."

And Dick loses his shit, he laughs so hard because, Jason, The golden child, the one who gave up on being a vigilante, who reads to children in the library, is a goddamn crimelord.

Bruce just stands there frozen because wtf Jason?!

And Dick takes selfies with Jason being tied up and calles the other Batkids in because they should definitely not be left out of it.

(Edit: As someone who doesn't really write (or can write good stories), I want to say, feel free to use this prompt for a fanfiction. Just please give credits to me (because I don't know if someone else had also this idea and posted it) and please inform me if you publish something (because I want to read a fanfiction like this too))

I have so many feels about Rin & they are Not Happy & I simply must share them

So like, minor spoilers but I’m on mobile so I can’t put a read more because that one trick never works for me so you’ve been warned

But after the class finds out about his powers & everything, they start acting different around him, some more than others. At first they’re very obviously terrified of him & try to avoid him at all costs. They kind of start to warm back up to him, but it’s a consistent issue. They stop sitting next to him in class and talk to him less. If he moves too suddenly they’ll gasp or flinch away.

It’s ongoing for months and months afterwards & the longer it goes on, the more it starts to affect Rin. He feels more like an outsider each & every day. Even Yukio is distant & treats him like some wild animal that could snap at any moment. Izumo and Shima act the most normal but he still notices how they keep at least a body’s distance away from him most of the time. & he’s definitely noticed that they don’t really touch him anymore. No high fives, fist bumps, hair ruffles or hugs. Really the only ones who touch him are Kuro & Shura during training.

At first he tries to convince himself it doesn’t bother him, but how can it not? This is the first real friend group he’s had & they treat him like a ticking bomb. As time goes on, he becomes more subdued, less angry, less him. Instead, all the energy he put into flaring up & being angry turns to sadness. He’s exhausted from failing his training & having to put effort into pretending to be energetic & happy.

Shura’s the first to pick up on it because he’s not as spunky during his training, but she just thinks he’s finally starting to take things seriously & calculate his moves instead of just rushing in. But when she compliments him on a job well done he just mumbles a quick thanks. Shiemi & Izumo notice something’s fishy with him next but Shiemi is too shy to bring it up & Izumo doesn’t care enough to ask him about it.

It takes Yukio a surprisingly long time before he notices that something’s off about Rin. He’s busy with his own school work as well as teaching & when it comes to his brother, he focuses more on keeping him in check than making sure he’s doing ok.

Yukio does start to get concerned when Rin takes an hour long shower & hears him singing “You’ve had a bad day, you’re taking one down. You sing a sad song just to turn it around” over & over. Not the song itself, only that one line. On repeat for an hour. When he steps out he’s like “Uh you feeling okay?” & Rin just brushes it off saying that’s the only line he could remember from that song.

After they’re sent away when the whole eye thing happened, it just gets worse, especially after his flare up. After that he just gets worse, and it becomes nearly impossible not to notice. His eyes are dull & downcast, and he walks slowly shuffling his feet. His tail never wags, the most is does is twitch if someone cracks a joke. He starts to lose sleep because all he can think about is how no one trusts him, not even himself and questions whether he can consider any of them a friend. He never smiles anymore, at least not genuinely. And you can forget about laughing all together. He only gives out weak insincere chuckles when everyone else is laughing so it doesn’t look too suspicious.

Being locked in that cell isn’t the only time he wondered if it would be better for everyone if he died. If he just gave up during a fight or let the Vatican execute him. He doesn’t dare share this thought. But all the other thoughts need to be released. To hear some input from someone else. But he knows he couldn’t possibly tell anyone... at least no one human. Kuro is the only one who he feels like they truly care for him and doesn’t fear him. That’s when he starts to never leave his side because his new master needs a friend he can count on!

When he finally starts to consistently master his flames, he’s not even excited about it anymore. That’s when Shura knows it’s gotten really bad. This sassy, spunky little punk is just a husk of who he really is. She tries to confront him about it to see what’s wrong & he snaps at her, flaring up slightly before just... fizzling out.

It gets so bad that even fucking Mephisto notices that something’s up with the son of Satan. & not the fun to watch kind of something either.

His only emotions become anger, empty sadness, stress, and forced/fake happiness. & then the trouble with his sword starts. It doesn’t only stem from his self doubt, but from the rejection from his friends and brother and the depression that he’s found himself in.

By the end of season 2 he’s in a much better place but still not where he needs to be & still forces himself to be over the top happy & goofy most of the time. What Yukio tells him still really bothers him especially since his opinion is the one that matters the most to him. & even tho he knows his friends are just teasing him, it still hurts to be constantly reminded that he’s the son of Satan & a powerful demon instead of just a normal kid.

This was so cute omg

✿ Omelette ✿

A/N: A little fic based on one of the prompts I have~

Summary: Sanji finds you cooking an omelette in your underwear at an ungodly hour.

Content: Warning - my really bad attempt at writing anything outside of lil paragraph points (blz help, I have no idea what I'm doing)

Despite the scenario - it's all SFW and fluffy like dem eggs! A light dusting of pining, G/N reader. ✿

(Part 2) - (Part 3)

You had tried to sleep and ignore the rumbling in your stomach, but the harder you tried, the more you felt it, and you had finally reached your limit. If you were to be at all functional tomorrow, you needed to eat something. Only then could you try to sleep again.

Exhausted, you drag yourself from the safety and warmth of your blankets, slowly ambling towards the ship's kitchen, single-minded in your endeavour. All that mattered was appeasing your stomach, leaving you completely unaware of the sudden cold that embraced you once you had left the confines of your quarters.

Flicking on the kitchen light, you quickly gathered everything you needed, deciding that the best thing to make would be an omelette. It's an easy dish, filling, and doesn't take long to make. In other words; it was perfect!

You make quick work of prepping the eggs, seasoning to taste, even considering throwing a little cheese in there before deciding against it. It's not like you believed the myth of cheese giving people nightmares if eaten before bed, but you were so desperate to be able to sleep afterwards that you didn't want to risk it. Stranger things have happened on this ship.

The pan hisses as you pour in the eggs, sounding much louder in the empty kitchen, only amplified by the late hour.

"Don't you sass me," you grumble, "The middle of the night is a perfectly acceptable time for an omelette!"

Unbeknownst to you, you weren't the only one awake on the ship, and your late night excursion had attracted attention, clearly not having noticed any of the noise you were making.

"I thought Luffy had snuck in on a midnight raid with all the clattering," a groggy voice behind you laughs, but you are too tired and focused on cooking to even register that you had been joined by anyone. Sanji leans against the table opposite the kitchen island, fidgeting with the hem of his nightshirt, waiting for an answer that never came.

Surely you heard him, right?

"Is everything alright, darling?"

Nothing.

Terms of endearment usually prompted some kind of response, be it a dismissive laugh or an equally fond term of your own, clearly thinking they meant nothing in particular. He'd accepted pretty quickly that they wouldn't be the way to win you over, but it certainly didn't stop him using them, at least on you. The same couldn't be said about everyone else, as he was no longer vying for the affection of anyone but yourself. Sanji wondered if you'd ever noticed that.

A clumsy flip of the omelette brought him back into the moment, honestly surprised that you hadn't dropped it on the floor.

He moved his way to your side of the kitchen, round the central island toward the stovetop.

"Why are you cooking at this hhhh-" he wheezed at the end, only now seeing that you weren't in the pyjama bottoms he'd assumed you'd be wearing, but in your underwear.

He clasped one of his hands over his mouth, the other grabbing the island for support as he felt his legs begin to fail him. Keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, he blurts out, "W-WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS?" as his face went fully crimson.

That finally gets your attention, but you are slow on the uptake, mind completely glazing over the fact that you had at some point gained an observer. Finally, furrowing your brows a little, you murmured a soft "What?" You knew a question was asked, but nothing else beyond that.

"Your pants, darling!" he gestures wildly, continuing to look down, knowing if that he caught sight of your bare legs again, he would lose his mind.

You stand there, pan hovering in the air away from the stove in one hand, a plate in the other, looking absolutely lost; you had completed your mission of acquiring omelette, and so your brain had decided it was no longer needed. Looking down, you see your legs and feet, wiggling your toes a little, then you look back up at the mess of a man in front of you, things finally starting to fall into place in your overtired mind.

"Oh, Sanji, what are you doing here," you ask, sweet as anything, completely ignorant to the battle he was waging internally. Once you plate your omelette, you place it on the island before putting the pan back on the stove to cool and grabbing a fork to tuck in, oblivious to Sanji frantically unbuttoning his night shirt beside you. He refuses to look directly at you until he has covered you with it, cheeks noticeably burning with how flustered he is.

"Darling, you can't do that to me," he says, almost breathless, "I am a weak, weak man; I can't handle seeing you so bare!" He manipulates your arms into the sleeves of his nightshirt, ignoring your protests when he briefly pulls the fork out of your hand in the process, before buttoning you up, doing his best to preserve your dignity.

As you feel the warm sustenance finally begin to settle in your empty stomach, you feel your brain booting back up, at least a little bit.

"Ah, shit I forgot to put on pants..." You giggle, wondering why everything was always funnier when you were tired. Taking another bite of food, you look down at your legs once again, starting to fully comprehend the situation you found yourself in. "I guess I was just too hungry." He can't help but sigh at how nonchalant you are.

Looking back up, your brain once again decides to abandon you, not from how tired you are this time, but from your eyes being met with his bare chest and abs, causing your own face to turn a charming shade of red. Sanji was always so neatly dressed, so he most you ever saw was his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves to work. It made sense that he was in good shape given his fighting ability, but it never really hit you until you saw his body tonight. There wasn't really any way to get accustomed to it, not like there was with someone like Zoro, who had his shirt off at least half the times you saw him, flashing his man tits whenever and wherever he damn well pleased.

Sanji's eyes never left you during this quiet minute, one that felt like hours, and he couldn't help but feel a hint of pride when he watched your eyes dance over his shirtless body, clearly flustered, bringing a confident smile to his face.

"Everything alright down there, sweetheart," he laughed softly.

You were clearly lost in your thoughts, it finally clicking why he was shirtless; he'd put his shirt on you. You brought a long sleeve up to your face as you dragged your eyes away, looking awkwardly to the side to your recently emptied plate. The shirt smelt like him, only without the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. It was sweet and musky. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but you felt a wave of feelings crash into you. Feelings you knew were there but had simply brushed aside, assuming they were just a result of his natural charm more than anything. But, you couldn't so easily disregard them now.

Sanji followed your gaze. "Ah, don't you worry about that, my dear," he says, grabbing the plate and bringing it to the sink, leaving you standing in a bit of a daze. "I'll take care of things here, so you go and get yourself back to bed, alright?"

"Oh, no!" You couldn't help how loud that ended up being, surprising the both of you. "You shouldn't have to clean up my mess," you say with a more regulated volume. If there's one way to get you back in the present, it's offering to do something you feel solely responsible for.

"In all fairness, darling, you shouldn't have been cooking in my kitchen in a state of undress," his cheeks started to go pink at the recent memory. He clears his throat before continuing, "Do you know how dangerous that is?" Ah, the professional chef just can't help himself when it comes to kitchen rules.

You pout slightly as you lean back against the centre island.

"Sorry, Sanji. I wasn't really with it. Too tired, too hungry..."

He makes quick work of the dirty items you had used, all while prattling on about safety and other things you probably should have listened to. Drying his hands, he makes his way back to you. It is evident you hadn't really been paying attention.

"At least promise me this," you look up at his warm, smiling face, "if you ever find yourself in this predicament again, please come and get me."

He brushes back some loose strands of hair, tucking them neatly behind your ear.

"You know that I'm always happy to cook for you, right? Whatever you want, whenever you want it."

Returning a gentle smile of your own, you nod.

"I promise."

With that, Sanji leads you out of the kitchen, plunging it back into darkness as he flicks the light off.

You reach his quarters first since he's closest to the kitchen. He pauses outside his door, hesitating for a moment. There are so many things he wanted to say to you, yet he couldn't bring himself to utter a single word.

Oblivious, you carry on toward your own room, turning back to him to wish him a good night, nearly falling over your own feet in the process, to which he smiles, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Bonne nuit, ma chère."

Guys, gals, and non-binary pals; I tried my best! This is my very first full fic ever, so if the grammar, wording, presentation, literally anything is bad; it's bc I am completely winging it! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿