It’s hard to focus when Zoro trains.
But you join him in the crow’s nest anyway, seeking solace in the comfort of his quiet company. You don’t often share words, but you do share space—share the same, balmy air to breathe, sea salt coating your tongues.
And that’s enough, you think. I could live a content life like this.
Your eyes drift, though.
From your book, your notepad, your camera—any distraction that you may have in front of you. Because, well, how could you not look?
He’s half nude, body carved from stone, a figure that would make even the gods jealous. From the expanse of his back to the heft of his pecs to the cut of his abs, he’s the picture of physical perfection, sweat trickling down his firm, tawny flesh in rivulets.
It’s hard to focus on one thing when Zoro trains.
But, more often than not, your gaze seem to hone in on his hands.
(Once, you pressed your palm to his, heel to heel, after sharing too much sake. Your skin was warm from both the alcohol and the proximity. His cheeks were flushed, too—a shade of pink that reminded you of the blooming sakura in Wano. His hand dwarfed yours, and made your fingers look puny like a child’s.)
Whether he’s holding dumbbells or—as he is now—his katana, you marvel at both the strength and dexterity of his calloused palms, the way they curl around the hilt with assuredness, never wavering, white-knuckled. Each of his digits must maintain their poise, suspending the blade in its grip, absolute control the difference between life and death.
His past missteps are obvious: gnarled scars cut across the expanse of his body, his hands no exception. As battle-worn as the rest of his flesh, his hands tell a story: of purpose; of betrayal; of bloodshed; of hope. They are implements of war; they have wrought injury and death, wrath and ruin.
But they are also shockingly gentle.
A door held open to let you pass through. A palm on your shoulder to let you know he’s there. An overfull cup of sake passed without a spill…
You lose yourself in thoughts of Zoro, Zoro, Zoro. So much so that you fail to notice the swordsman’s not-so-subtle glances in your direction. He stifles a chuckle at the dreamy expression on your face, and returns to his training.
He may not be able to decipher the longing behind your watch, but your attention is always welcome, as far as he’s concerned.
if shanks had a nickel for every time someone ate a devil fruit because of him he’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot but it’s weird it happened twice
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/720364902873179886/
Julius: *carrying all the books*
you: *holds out hand to help*
Julius: *aggressively moves all the books to one hand to hold your hand*
kinktober ☾ day 3
accidental stimulation ☾ julius novachrono x reader
18 + under the cut
a/n: I had so much trouble writing this bc of the gif... he looks too hot there wtf
"Just two minutes?"
"Julius-"
"Please?"
You couldn't say no to that face; that was always your downfall. It was the way the Wizard King pouted his lips and made himself look as pitiful as possible when he was feeling... clingy, that made you stay. He was too cute.
"Fine..."
Julius grinned, shifting slightly in his seat, glad to ignore his work for a few minutes as you crawled into his lap for a few minutes. You let out a sigh, admittedly enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. However, the moment of serenity was quickly shattered by something...
"Oh- I-" You raised your head at the sound of Julius's voice as you once again shifted, accidentally grinding against his crotch. Julius's cheeks were red, obviously a little embarrassed, but he quickly cleared his throat. "Sorry- you can get off-"
"No..." You smiled to yourself, leaning up to look him in the eye. "You've got me for 2 minutes, remember?"
"...Well," his own mouth curled into a smile to match yours. "I better make good use of those 2 minutes, then."
It didn't take long for you to be pushed beneath his desk, hand tangled gently in your hair. You quickly discovered that he was needier for more than just your touch; the moans that quickly started streaming from his lips as your mouth went to work on his aching cock told you that much. His fingers tightened in your hair, tugging along with your movements.
"God- ah-"
The desperation in his movements was not something you saw often, but you ate it up, pride swelling in your chest as he came undone from your movements. It had been a complete accident, yet now he was melting into complete bliss.
You swallowed thickly, gulping down a few much-needed breaths. You winced at the feeling of his hand, still gripping your hair as he came down from the high. Julius finally released you, but a moment later, you found yourself hoisted up and placed on the edge of the desk. "Hey! Julius-"
His lips immediately crashed into yours, hungrily eating you up. You squirmed, your face heating up, before he finally pulled back. His own cheeks were flushed, his eyes a little drowsy, but you knew what that glint meant.
"Now, I get two minutes with you."
All Might’s heart is too kind to be the bad cop.
And Aizawa’s is too dark to be the good cop.
based on this
this was drawn by my sister! if you liked it check her ig: metano_CH4
sorry I had to take a sip of water a year and a half ahem ah yes like I was saying rough day chapter 20 will be posted on Sunday March 12 2023 at 9pm est thank you