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mrsfancyferrari · 5 months

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hello!!!! i love your recent fics and i want to request one for you 🥹 one where reader does happy dances every time she eats sanji’s food? and it’s so natural for her that she makes him shy ((in a good way for doing it

Happy Times

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Y/N

Content: Starvation, fluff, Sanji's shy (my favourite part) and Y/N's sad past.

A/n: I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! <3

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First of all, thank you for requesting! This is my first time making a request so I hope this story is to your expectations!

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After the Strawhat crew saved your poor country from its terrible leader, you were unexpectedly welcomed aboard as a new addition to the crew.

Despite your lack of devil fruit powers, Luffy saw potential in you and believed that your unique skills and determination would make you a valuable member of the crew. He admired your bravery during the fight and knew that together, you could accomplish even greater things.

He also might have gotten some persuading from a certain cook.

"Cheers to our new nakama, Y/N!" Luffy exclaimed, raising his cup in a toast.

"Cheers!" the crew chorused in unison, their cups clinking together. Each member of the Strawhat crew expressed their excitement for having you on board, promising to support and protect you as one of their own.

From Nami's approving nod to Zoro's subtle smirk, it was clear that you had earned their trust and had become an integral part of their pirate family.

As the celebration continued, you looked around the room and realized that the cook was nowhere to be found. Curiosity piqued, you excused yourself from the crew and made your way to the kitchen, where you found Sanji preparing a feast fit for a king.

You admired Sanji's culinary skills for a while, marveling at how effortlessly he would slice through vegetables and handle the sizzling oil without hesitation. As you watched him prepare the feast, you couldn't help but be in awe of his culinary prowess.

It was no wonder that he was known as the "Black Leg" and hailed as one of the greatest chefs on the Grand Line.

You decided to slip away quietly, not wanting to interrupt Sanji's cooking or draw attention to yourself.

Finding a peaceful spot on the ship, you took a moment to reflect on the incredible turn of events that led you to become a member of the Strawhat crew.

The memories of your past struggles and the newfound sense of belonging filled your heart with gratitude and determination for the adventures that lay ahead.

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It was hard to believe that just a few days ago, you were living in a country oppressed by an unjust ruler. The people had been stripped of their wealth, forced to give all of their money as a gift to the ruler on the 10th anniversary of their reign.

You were once a part of an orphanage that suffered greatly under the ruler's oppressive regime. The orphanage struggled to provide basic necessities for the children, and you witnessed firsthand the hardships faced by the people.

As one of the oldest children in the orphanage, you were burdened with responsibilities beyond your years. From the age of 10, you were expected to take care of the younger children, ensuring they were fed, clothed, and safe. It was a heavy weight to bear, but it taught you resilience and compassion at a young age.

You often found yourself questioning the quality and safety of the food made from the meager rations provided by the adults. However, you had no other choice but to eat it yourself and feed it to the younger children, hoping it would sustain them.

Surviving each day became a delicate balance between fulfilling your responsibilities and ensuring everyone's survival.

But one day, the Straw Hat crew, led by the fearless Monkey D. Luffy, arrived in the country with a mission to liberate the oppressed people. With their extraordinary abilities and unwavering determination, they fought against the unjust ruler and his forces, bringing hope and freedom to the once-struggling nation.

As they defeated the ruler and his regime, the people rejoiced, and a new era of peace and prosperity began to unfold.

Everyone thought it was the right decision for you to go with them. . .

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"Y/N?" A voice called you from behind, belonging to Nami.

You turned around to face Nami, a wide smile spreading across your face. "Yes, Nami?" you replied, gratitude filling your voice.

"Sanji said that the food is ready," Nami informed you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The aroma of the freshly cooked meal wafted through the air, a stark contrast to the meager rations you were accustomed to.

Your stomach growled in response to Nami's news, reminding you of the constant hunger you had endured in the orphanage. The thought of a properly cooked meal filled with nourishment made your mouth water.

As you followed Nami into the kitchen, you noticed that everyone was there, engaged in lively conversation, yet no one touched their food. It seemed as if they were waiting for someone, and curiosity piqued within you.

"Finally! There you are, Y/N!" Luffy exclaimed, his mouth drooling as he resisted from touching the meat in front of him.

You sat beside Nami, a sense of guilt washing over you as you apologized for being gone for so long.

"Now Y/N-san, why don't you taste the food first?" Sanji asked from the kitchen, prepping the last pieces of dessert.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether you deserved to be the first one to taste the food.

Usually you were the last unless you had to taste if it was edible or not.

Everyone looked at you as you scooped a spoonful of one of the dishes, but you paused. The memory of the starving children back in the orphanage flashed in your mind, and you couldn't help but feel that they deserved this meal more than you did.

"It's alright," Sanji's voice said as he was now behind you, his warm hand resting on your shoulder.

It was as if he could read your mind and understand the guilt that was consuming you.

You nodded before placing the spoon inside your mouth and swallowing it. The flavors exploded on your taste buds, a symphony of perfectly balanced spices and textures.

It was a moment of pure bliss, and as you savored each bite, you couldn't help but feel grateful that you were able to experience such a meal after years of deprivation.

The taste of the food was so exquisite that you couldn't help but let out a little dance, your body moving to the rhythm of the flavors. It was as if the nourishment had not only satisfied your hunger but also awakened a dormant joy within you.

As you twirled and swayed, the room erupted in laughter and applause, everyone delighting in your infectious happiness.

"Y/N is doing a happy dance!" Luffy exclaimed, laughing.

The meal had not only filled your stomach but also filled your soul with a newfound appreciation for the simple joys of life.

With the biggest smile on your face, you turned to Sanji, gratitude shining in your eyes, and whispered, "Thank you, Sanji. This meal is beyond anything I could have imagined."

Sanji's cheeks went from a light tint of pink to his whole face being red, dropping his cigarette in the process. He couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and happiness at seeing you enjoy his food so much.

It was moments like these that reminded him why he loved cooking and why he put so much passion into every dish.

"I'm glad that you like it Y/N-san," Sanji answered, his eyes filled with pure love. Shyly, he added, "I put my heart and soul into creating this meal, and seeing you enjoy it brings me immeasurable joy."

You smiled in return, completely unaware of the effect you had on Sanji. The genuine happiness that radiated from you was enough to make his heart skip a beat, and he couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of purpose in his culinary endeavors.

Though it didn't go unnoticed.

"Looks like Love Cook can get shy around women," Zoro teased.

Sanji's face turned even redder as Zoro's teasing words reached his ears.

"Shut up, Mosshead!" Sanji fired back, trying to hide his embarrassment. But deep down, he couldn't deny that there was some truth to Zoro's words.

Your presence had ignited a spark within him, and he couldn't wait to continue creating culinary masterpieces that would bring joy to your heart. . . .

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Continue?

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oddballwriter · 5 months

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Personal Nurses

Summary: You get sick with something and need to stay home, and so your lovely boyfriends take up the job of nursing you back to health.

Warnings: Mentions of being sick (sore throat, stuffy nose, and fever). Taking medicine. Half Google translated Spanish, my high school Spanish is really rusty the grammar may be weird. Other wise a nice wholesome sick comfort fic.

Author’s Snip: Fun fact, this was originally going to be a fic where it was about Abi (the reader and system’s daughter that have a bit of an unofficial series with) getting sick. But I decided to make it about the boys taking care of you because I got a nasty cold a while ago and wanted to see this.

Notes: Again, the grammar in Jake’s Spanish speaking might be not so good because my Spanish is rusty as hell.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 692

Being sick wasn’t that great. Sure, it got you out of needing to do things, but you also had to deal with actually being sick. And that’s never great.

You went to bed last night with a tickle in your throat and runny nose that you thought would pass in the morning, but then you woke up dying for water, barely able to breathe through your nose, and now you were burning up like a whore in church.

When Steven eventually woke up and found you in the kitchen you could tell he knew. You made an attempt to brush it off by saying “I’ll just drink some tea and sit under an air conditioner today.” but you could see Steven and the rest of them in that brain vote no on even letting you get out into your work clothes.

So now you get to wallow in bed and have three personal nurses.

Since Steven was the one who woke up with the body, so he was the one who set everything up. He politely shooed you back into bed, placed extra pillows, called your work for you, made you your tea and breakfast, and brought all that to you in bed with a cold rag and medicine. He also checked your temperature which, of course earned an “Oh, love. That’s no good.” that seemed more like him thinking out loud.

Steven was the one mostly in charge of your comfort and doing things for you when you’re sick. If you wanted an extra blanket, you got one. If your fever rag got lukewarm, he made it cool again. Do you want more water or tea? You got it. Is it too bright? He’ll draw the curtains for you. If anything he was more of a bell boy than a nurse. But it still made him blush a little when you called him that.

Marc was the one in charge of making sure you got your medicine in, and he was on top of it. Apparently, when you were taking a nap after eating breakfast, Marc took the body to go to the pharmacy and get new medicine and vitamins because “The one we have isn’t strong enough.” as if he was able to tell just by looking at you. When he came back, he had you eat some bread, saying “So that it doesn’t mess with your stomach if it's empty already.” and also “It helps it stay down. It has something to stick to.”.

“How do you know all this?” you questioned, to which Marc simply said “Trial and error,”, “Now take the vitamins. It helps your immune system fight it off.” Marc orders. You just shrug and comment “Whatever you say, Nurse Spector.”.

Jake was dead set on making food for you, making Marc go to a whole different market while he was out, just to buy ingredients for the soup he wanted to make you.

“Qué no, Marc. No puedes compras los sopas enlatadas.” Jake said to himself with a laugh. “Mind letting me in on the joke?” Marc asked as he watched Jake cut up the ingredients from the reflection in the soup. “You couldn’t buy them canned soup, Marc. Canned soup doesn’t do it. You gotta make it.” Jake explained, clearly referring to the whole ‘make it with love’ thing. “Well, that’s what we would have,” Marc mentioned. “Because that’s all we got.” Jake said back, “But not for them.” he added as to pointed to where you were resting. “They’d do the same for us.” Jake stated confidently.

When the soup was settled and done, and cooled down enough, Jake brought the bowl straight to you in bed. You thought he was going to bring a little table like Steven and Marc did, but it was clear when Jake kept holding the bowl and took up a spoonful of it and held it towards your mouth. You say his name with a scoff and he smiles. “Come on, mi amor. Steven and Marc got to play nurse today.” Jake teased. You roll your eyes and decide to humor him and let him feed you.

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader

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airanke · 1 year

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Losing my mind over Jojo Gomez and her Abiteth energy.

#I will draw Abi dancing eventually #It's on my list #With 2038473208423 other things

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moviestarmartini · 4 months

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Since you are open to writing about Brahim 🤭imagine Jude being a third wheel and always hanging out with you and Brahim, like the guy is never at his house 😭😭

three, that's the magic number! - brahim diaz x reader x platonic!jude bellingham

warnings: none, pure fluff. headcanon/bulleted format.

OKAY HE WOULD LOWKEY BE LIKE “i want what these bitches have” BUT LET ME NOT GET AHEAD OF MYSELF HERE

now playing... the magic number by de la soul

you’d heard of Jude but came to meet him in a dinner Brahim had organized with him and Arda.

you’d noticed the way Jude stared in awe at the two of you whenever you interacted, even if it was just Brahim taking short glances, his face softer than ever.

it started off with Brahim asking if you could pick up Jude on the way to training, not wanting the younger man to take a taxi there again

the way the three of you could start a conversation and flow felt nice, singing along to some songs that Brahim had queued.

Jude often asked what the songs said, or what a word either of you said meant. you found endearing how he was really trying with spanish

Jude then started getting dropped off at your shared place to be driven to training by you two— getting all pouty when Brahim was the one driving, not you.

“Is this what abandonment feels like?” He would joke, but still wished you the best on your way out to work.

then it was the fact Brahim took it upon himself to teach the englishman the do’s-and-don’ts of Madrid.

you took Jude everywhere, all your favorite spots, doing your best to avoid large crowds to not draw attention to yourselves.

“You’re in luck, she’s the best tour guide ever.” Brahim bragged about you to Jude, as he did to anyone who would listen.

he was just so so proud of every you know and done, he can’t help himself.

you knew a lot about the historic places you saw even when just passing by car, telling Jude every detail and fun fact you had in store in that brain of yours.

he listened attentively, also noticing the way Brahim would look at you with the tiniest smile behind his lips.

“See? I’ve got myself the smartest cookie. Eres la más inteligente de todo España, mi habibati.” Brahim would coo after you were done explaining, reaching to cup your face and stroke your cheekbone with his thumb as you nodded slowly, cheeks flushed.

soon, however, candid pictures of you hanging out were released to the public.

the reactions varied from people adoring the pair you and Brahim made and how tall Jude was compared to the two of you but always followed behind as if he was your child.

by that point he’d already taken your flat as his favorite hang out spot, more often than not you found Jude playing FIFA or board games with Brahim after coming home from work.

“Get a room.” Jude would complain at your cuddling and kissing, Brahim brushing the spiky facial hair against the length of your neck only to hear the giggles that made his chest swell

“Jude, you’re the one who’s in our room.” you deadpanned with a yawn, the two men bursting down in laughter.

but at the end of the day, he felt like another member of your family— just like abi Arda did, but that’s a story for another day.

and you were so glad Brahim could reintegrate back into the team flawlessly.

at one of the games you sat in the VIP balcony at the bernabeú with a good chunk of the players— all out on injuries, including Jude, who went straight to you as he noticed you walk in.

you two commented on the game as if that was your actual job, feeling every second and emotion.

you also noticed how Jude looked at you every time you celebrated Brahim doing things right— it could only be described as admiration.

Jude had to leave when the game was itching its end, having to stand with the other injured players, leaving you with Denise.

you introduced yourself quickly, and you noticed how she perked up.

“Lovely to meet you, but can you give me my son back? Or do I need to pull out some adoption papers for you two?” she laughed, soon telling you how much he talked about both you and Brahim, and the relationship you shared.

you couldn't help but laugh, "Really? I think I have a pen in my purse, hold on–" you joked, but feeling proud... why? because everyone could clearly see how much you loved Brahim.

and they could also see, clear as day, how much he loved you too.

#ik i need people to see our gospel and notice how PRETTY brahim is #brahim diaz #brahim diaz x reader #ALSO YES OPENING THAT TAG BECAUSE I MIGHT USE IT IN THE FUTURE #also this could definitely take a smutty route but we'll see later on 👀#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼✽ — writing !

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corazondebeskar-reads · 8 months

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well it's love, make it hurt - chapter five

well it’s love, make it hurt series

five: hollow out my hungry eyes

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: You and your partner, the Mandalorian, return from a strenuous hunt for an elusive bounty, absolutely filthy. You solve that and other problems in the refresher on the Razor Crest.

Warnings: Explicit, dry humping, d/s dynamics, dom!Mando and sub!reader, subspace, established relationship, spanking, dirty talk, gratuitous use of pet names, rimming (m receiving), handjob (m receiving), coming untouched, aftercare, the helmet comes off but it's dark, Mando is filthy (figuratively and literally), pre-Grogu

Originally written for Kinktober 2023 - Day 3: Rimming/Handjob/Dry Humping, inspired by @absurdthirst’s wonderful prompt list,

also on ao3

3 ABY - Fall

When you saw the Crest through the moss-laden trees, you nearly cried with relief. You and Mando had been on a hunt for two weeks on this backwater skughole. The Gungan bounty had enjoyed quite the advantage in the bog, forcing you and your hunting partner to lay low and set traps, staying nearby and taking shifts on watch.

You wore the sleepless nights under your eyes and in the deep set of your frown. Even Mando grunted quietly, breath in ragged huffs as he dragged the corpse through the thick, hot fog. Your boots sank in a little with each squelching step to the ramp.

Content to let Mando manhandle the body into the carbon freezer, you perched on the corner of a crate in the hold as you disassembled your blasters and wiped the parts clean of muck and algae.

The edge of the crate was cool and sharp at the apex of your thighs. You squirmed, feeling the flat edge push into your soft leggings. Mando emerged and began to unlatch his armor. Whereas you had gotten soaked up to the knee in the marsh, he was splattered head to toe from wrestling the bounty.

You moved on to disassemble your long rifle, dutifully wiping down each crevice and applying oil as needed. From your perch on the crate, you swung your legs back and forth and let yourself get distracted by his careful ministrations. The way his broad palms splayed over the beskar. His fingers deft and precise, even in those thick gloves. With a tattered rag ripped from the remains of an old tunic, he rubbed a finger over the heart at the center of his chest plate with the same firm circles he used on you in the dark. You whimpered.

Slowly, he turned to look at you. Taking in the sweat beaded at your hairline, the unconscious way you rocked back and forth on the hard edge of the crate. Your hands wrapped around the rifle. How your eyes had gone dark, and your plush lips parted.

“Enjoying yourself over there?” he said, carefully setting the plate down.

It took you a moment to process that he was talking to you. “What?”

He stood up and stalked closer until you were inches apart. He towered over you, and you squirmed back a little, unable to fight the thrum of adrenaline.

“I asked if you were enjoying yourself, pretty girl,” he said, stroking a gloved finger down your cheek.

You nuzzled against it on instinct, grinding down with a soft moan.

“Desperate thing.” He chuckled and stepped back, drawing a whine unbidden from your throat.

“I know, it’s been too long. I’ll give you what you need,” he said, pausing while you moaned louder, dropping the rifle on the crate beside you and reaching for him.

You hadn’t meant to brashly pleasure yourself like that, but now that you had started, now that he was encouraging you, your hips rolled easier, faster.

He let you wind your hands into his tunic, damp as it was with mud, and draw him back, only to still your hips with firm hands. “But not yet. Go get washed up,” he lifted you clear off the crate and set you on your feet.

You wavered in place with a pout.

“Now, baby.” The command was soft, but his tone was firm, and he punctuated the order with a sharp slap on your ass. “And don’t you dare touch yourself.”

All the slap had done was make you burn with desire, and you had to talk yourself down from pushing for more. Once the fresher door was shut and the water running, you took a deep, shaky breath before leaning against the frigid wall. Anything to calm the way your every nerve was aflame.

It was good that you needed a cold shower because you knew the hot water wouldn’t last, and Mando needed it more. He had done the majority of the physical work on this job, and all those nights sleeping in trees had done a number on his back. He hadn’t complained, of course, but you saw the involuntary twinge when he moved the wrong way.

The soapy cloth was torture as you dragged it perfunctorily across your breasts and between your legs, but the temptation of his hands and cock were enough to convince you to obey. As you were rinsing off, the lights went out. You hadn’t heard the pneumatics of the door over the water and gasped at the sudden loss of vision.

The door sealed tight to contain moisture, which meant no light from the hull crept in. There was a click and a hiss, and you swallowed down a moan at the realization. Mando’s warm hand grabbed your waist to acclimate to his surroundings, and you reached to turn up the temperature before he fully stepped under the spray. He slid in behind you, arms wrapping around your stomach and chin resting on your shoulder.

“Can I…?” you whispered.

He had only taken the helmet off once before, in the same way. Here, locked in the darkness, where there was no chance for error. He hummed his consent, and you lathered up your hands before reaching into his curls. He groaned, gently sinking blunt teeth into your neck and running his hands up to cup your breasts.

You tugged involuntarily on his hair, prompting a soft moan where he was sucking a bruise into your skin. The small room was getting muggy, and your ass was slick where you rubbed it against his cock. He pinched your nipples before sliding his hands to your hips and pushing away.

“Be patient. Let me get clean first,” he said, giving another smack to your ass before turning around to grope around for the soap.

You picked it and the cloth up from the little shelf where you had set them. “Let me,” you begged, already stroking the cloth over his broad shoulder blades.

His responding groan was for entirely different reasons this time, but it still sent sparks straight to your cunt.

“Okay, pretty girl, if that’s what you want,” he said. He braced his hands against the wall, legs spread, and let you wash away the grime and tension from his back.

You pressed against a few knots until they gave way under your soft fingers, cupping your hands to spread the warm water where he needed it most, pressing kisses along his scarred skin as you went.

You knelt, textured durasteel branding your knees, and ran the cloth up and down his legs, marveling at the bulging muscles of his calves and corded thighs. As you carefully brushed over his ass, the pulsing of your neglected clit was harder to ignore.

You lingered, cleaning him thoroughly and watching for a reaction.

“Cyar’ika.” It was thick with warning. One you didn’t heed.

Leaning forward to part him with both hands, you gently pressed your lips against his skin. When you pressed a kiss to his hole, he jerked his hips and growled.

“Think about what you’re starting, baby,” he said, hands clenched into fists against the wall.

But he didn’t stop you, he didn’t safeword out, he didn’t order you not to. So you leaned back in, licked a wide stripe over his entrance, and listened to the moan it dragged out of him.

Alternating soft kisses and firm licks in and around as he clenched against nothing, you reached forward between his thighs. When he didn’t stop you, you wrapped your hand around his cock, pleased to find it hard and twitching.

He was vocal in his appreciation, letting you coax almost feral moans and growls from deep in his chest. The water was starting to run cold, but neither of you noticed. He was burning from your efforts, and you were a little hazy, feeling the thrall of subspace tugging at your mind. Humming against him, you let it cloud over you, the ache between your thighs eased by the singleminded focus on his body.

He felt something worshipful in the lave of your tongue, the twist of your wrist as you stroked him. “Are you close?” he said, looking over his shoulder even though he couldn’t see you.

You nodded, not stopping, and your hand released his cock to roll his balls between your fingers.

“Good girl. Cum whenever you want, baby,” he said before nearly snarling as you resumed pumping his aching cock.

You were giving soft little moans into his ass, tongue stuttering as his words rolled over you. Your orgasm started softly, tumbling into a fever pitch as you muffled your cries into him, hand squeezing and jerking around his cock.

It drew his own orgasm out as you clutched him, spending his seed against the wall of the fresher. Panting, he unwound your fingers from his softening cock, and turned to sink to his knees in front of you, hands cupping your face.

“Oh, baby. You’re so good to me,” he murmured, pulling you against his chest and stroking your wet hair away from your face. “Such a good girl. Thank you.”

He pressed his lips against your head, reaching behind to turn off the water. You were trembling, whether from the cold or from the intensity, he wasn’t sure.

“Can you sit up by yourself for a second, baby? Let me get a towel?” He helped you find your balance as you swayed a little on the spot. He stood up, but not before pressing a firm kiss to your lips. He ruffled his hair with a towel as quickly as possible, sliding the helmet back over his face. Wrapping the towel around you, he lifted you up and smiled as you automatically nuzzled into his chest, barely shifting away when he lowered you both onto the cot. It wasn’t how he planned the night to go, but he’d make sure to thoroughly reward you in the morning.

*title from "makedamnsure" by Taking Back Sunday

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fic #kinktober 2023 #din djarin fic #din djarin x f!reader #corazondebeskar-reads and writes #make it hurt verse

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