Kuzan X Reader - Blog Posts

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Aokiji for Kissing Booth please :3 (first time ask omg I just had to)

The Kissing Booth: Aokiji Kuzan for Skullfacedlady

Word Count: 700+

Notes: Your first time requesting, my first time writing for Aokiji. Wooh, I'll be writing for him again. His kiss had me feeling some kind of way, not gonna lie. Come and get a kiss, Skullfacedlady!

The crumbles of wafer-thin paper rustled into the jar beside your seat. The air around you began to grow unnaturally cold at a rate that raised alarms within you internally. You hastily sought out the source of the draft by gesturing your head from side to side, your silken blindfold prohibiting you from locating it more accurately. 

A deep rumbled chuckle hummed in front of you, as you heard your new guest place themselves on the seat in front of you. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Sometimes I can’t control myself,” the smooth baritone hummed at you, his cadence soft and teasing, “Referring to the cold, that is.” You inquisitively cocked your head to the side at his confession and furrowed your brows beneath the material shroud. 

“You’re cool?” you ask him, a soft smile forming behind your pursed lips. You jolt upright at the feeling of an icy hand gently caressing your hand, the shock at such a temperature drop shaking you and puckering your skin with each subtle touch.

“Cool as they come, baby,” he offered you with a soft hum in his flirtatious tone. You felt him lean in, his glacial radiance biting at your skin before he drew himself closer. “May I?” You nod softly, fixing your posture to sit upright as he coaxes you into himself. 

His hand came up to gently cradle your face, gently smoothing over the skin at the apple of your cheek before lowering to caress your jaw. His touches felt soft, deliberate and sultry: his fingers dipping up further to touch over your lips. 

The featherlight touches from his fingers were gently replaced by his lips molding and caressing your own. His lips were cooler than his fingers were, a pleasant shock to your senses as you leaned into his touch. He gently mouthed at you, sensually and slowly coaxing more of you to open up to him. A pair of glasses brushed with your silken blindfold, almost catching the seams of the material shrouding your vision.

Intertwining fingers with yours, he gently raised your hand up to his neck and held it there with his, the other finding your hip and gently tugging you in closer to him. His kiss felt as if he was savoring every moment, no action rushed as he gently romanced you with his lips. 

Slowly drawing out his tongue, he switched angles and gently brushed his muscle with yours. At each moment, you truly felt like you were falling in love with his lingering touch, the coolness of his kiss had each fiber of your hair follicles standing to attention. 

The lingering effects of the cold touch began to numb and swell your bruised lips. With a soft groan of disappointment, he pulled away from you and assessed your lips. Clicking his tongue, he attempted to warm your lips by placing the heel of his palm against your skin. 

“Sorry, baby,” he hummed at you, chastising myself, “I find it hard to control myself around such beautiful people sometimes. Seems you’re no exception to the rule.” He pulled his hand away from your lips, witnessing the smile drawn up over your lips. 

“I don’t mind,” you exhaled in a breathy pant, a puff of cool vapor exiting your parted lips with every word, “I find your inability to control yourself alluring, honestly. Makes me feel special.”

“Oh, you are special, sweetheart,” he chuckled down at you, gently giving you a chilly kiss on the cheek before retracting himself from you completely. “You’ll still be here in an hour?”

“I’ll be here for another hour or so, yes,” you nod in confirmation, a soft giggle fleeing your lips at the admittance. He mirrored your expression, reaching down and giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“I’ll see you again on my way back then,” he uttered to you in a slow and laid-back tone. You reclined in your stool, pursing your lips to stifle your smile from rising on your cheeks further. 

“Looking forward to it,” you confessed, feeling his aura retreat with him and reignite your body in the natural warmth of festival air. Your lips still tingled with the lingering numbness of his icy lips on yours, a beautiful memory and promise of what's to come swelling your cheeks in a flush of warmth in anticipation.

Can you do Kuzan (aokiji) ?? Like, the reader was rumored witch and when he heard that, he goes excited suddenly and wanted to find that witch? ( You can do what ever you want with the ending. But please add a smut hehehe, thank you!!

hii this is a good idea!! i apologize, as of the moment, i don't plan on writing that includes s3x anytime soon:< but theres some kissing scene tho idk if kissing is considered as smut? dahaha but i hope you enjoy this! let me know what u think! ><

Frostbite and Witchcraft

When a bored ex-admiral hears rumors of a dangerous "witch" living near a chaotic port town, he can't resist hunting her down—only to find himself ensnared in a slow-burn game of teasing, ice, and forbidden heat.

Aokiji (kuzan) x fem! reader Tags: fluff, flirty, slow burn(?) neck kissing / collarbone kissing, minor bondage (ice restraints), a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ff cringe and oc word count: 1.5k MINORS DNI!!

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It all started with a stupid rumor.

"The witch will curse you if you look her in the eye!" "She flies around naked at midnight!" "She turned Old Man Jeb into a chicken. True story."

The entire port town was drunk on gossip, and Aokiji—bored, freshly unattached to any real responsibility—found himself very interested.

"I dunno," he said lazily, nursing a drink at the local tavern, "sounds kinda hot."

The table of sailors stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "Hot?! She’s dangerous!"

Aokiji just grinned, finishing his drink and standing up. "Dangerous women are the best ones."

He tracked you down that same night.

Eventually, he found himself standing at the edge of a very cliché-looking creepy forest. A broken, hand-painted sign read:

"BEWARE: WITCH LIVES HERE. (also wolves.)"

Aokiji, grinning lazily, shrugged. “Eh. Wolves are fine. I’m here for the witch.”

He wandered in, hands in his pockets, whistling tunelessly. Half an hour later, after being chased by a very angry (and definitely not magical) goat, he finally stumbled upon a crooked little house. Smoke curled from the chimney, and wind chimes made from bones (probably fake… probably) tinkled eerily.

Your crooked little house at the edge of the forest was half-charming, half-terrifying, lit up with candles and what looked suspiciously like floating lights (actually just fireflies, but hey, let the idiots believe).

You were perched on your porch, barefoot, wearing a thin, flowy dress that clung to your body in the humid air, holding a cup of tea and looking entirely too smug.

“You lost, stranger?” you called, voice honey-sweet but laced with trouble.

Aokiji whistled low under his breath. Damn, the rumors didn’t do you justice.

Aokiji approached slowly, hands in his pockets. “Hey. I’m here for the witch."

You looked him up and down like he was a particularly stupid animal. "You the guy with more balls than brains?"

He laughed—a slow, deep rumble. "Depends who you ask."

You raised an eyebrow, sipping your tea. “And what if she curses you?"

Aokiji's grin widened. He leaned his tall frame casually against a tree, watching you with the lazy hunger of a man already planning how fast he could lose the upper hand—and liking it.

“I dunno... kinda sounds like fun," he said, voice low, smooth. "Especially if she's the kind of witch who knows a few...bad tricks.”

And thus began the harassment.

Day 1: He brought you a dead fish. "Thought witches liked weird offerings."

You squinted at it, then at him. "That’s mermaid bait, dumbass."

He shrugged and left it on your porch anyway.

Day 3: He challenged you to a "spell duel" and got his ass kicked by a very territorial goat you "accidentally" sicced on him.

Day 5: You caught him napping under your tree, snoring like a dying lawnmower.

You threw a bucket of water on him. He woke up, grinning, ice instantly forming on his clothes.

"You’re gonna have to try harder to cool me off, sweetheart."

You stomped inside before he could see the stupid smile on your face.

Day 7: You found a neatly folded note on your porch:

"Dear scary witch lady, Teach me magic? Also, your hair looks nice. Yours frostily, Aokiji"

You rolled your eyes so hard you nearly fell over. But you smiled too.

He kept coming back. Sometimes he’d just sit nearby, pretending to "guard" your house from wolves. Other times, he’d lazily help you gather herbs (crushing half of them because he was clumsy as hell). You started leaving out a second cup of tea without thinking about it.

He was stupidly tall, annoyingly charming, and somehow managed to look both lazy and sharp at the same time. He made you laugh when you hadn’t laughed in months.

And gods, when he smirked at you… when he leaned a little too close when handing you a flower… It was getting hard to pretend you didn’t notice.

One evening… You sat by the porch, braiding herbs absently. The sky blazed orange, and Aokiji lounged nearby, watching you with open amusement.

"You ever curse anyone for real?" he asked.

You smirked. "Maybe. You wanna find out?"

He whistled low, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. "Man… you’re dangerous when you talk like that."

You tossed a dried sprig of lavender at him. He caught it, lazy-fast.

There was a pause.

Then he got up—moved toward you—slow, deliberate.

You looked up, heartbeat thudding. He loomed, tall and close enough that you could smell his skin: cold like fresh rain, sharp and clean.

His hand brushed a stray leaf from your hair—fingers lingering just a second too long.

"Y'know," he murmured, voice low and wrecked, "I think you did curse me."

You tried to laugh it off—but it came out breathless.

"Oh yeah? What’s the curse?"

He smiled—a real one this time, a little crooked, a little too soft.

"I can’t stay away from you."

The tension snapped.

You surged up, grabbing his jacket and dragging him down; he met you halfway, crashing his mouth onto yours.

The kiss was everything you expected from him: messy, greedy, starving. His tongue slid against yours immediately, tasting, teasing, claiming you. You gasped into him—he groaned low in his throat—his hands roaming your sides, cool fingertips skating fire trails along your heated skin.

You bit his lip playfully; he retaliated by lifting you effortlessly onto the porch railing, pressing between your thighs.

"You’re lucky," you panted against his mouth.

"Yeah?" he chuckled, kissing down your jaw, voice thick with want.

"Not everyone survives kissing a witch."

He grinned against your throat, cold breath making you shiver.

"Guess I’m built different."

And then he kissed you again—deeper, hungrier—like he was determined to drown in you.

You decided you’d let him.

You barely had time to catch your breath before Aokiji’s mouth was on you again—only this time, lower.

His lips trailed messy, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, slow and deliberate, sending shivers wracking your entire body. When he reached your neck, he paused, smirking against your pulse like he could feel it racing for him.

"You always this jumpy," he teased in a low growl, "or is it just me?"

You opened your mouth to sass back—but then he bit your neck, just enough to make you gasp, and you forgot how words worked.

His tongue followed immediately after, soothing the sting, cold and warm all at once. You arched into him instinctively, and he groaned deep in his chest, like the feel of you was driving him insane.

"Aokiji—" you tried to say, but it came out a whimper.

"Mm," he murmured against your skin, "I like how you say my name. Say it again."

Instead, you tugged at his messy hair, earning a delighted chuckle from him. He pressed you harder against the porch railing, one hand sliding under your thighs to keep you perched there like you belonged to him.

And then he got even bolder.

His mouth moved lower, ghosting along your collarbone, teeth scraping lightly before he kissed the delicate skin with maddening gentleness.

Your hands clutched at the fabric of his jacket, trying to anchor yourself. You could feel his breath—cool and teasing—against the thin fabric of your dress, making your whole body burn.

"You’re trembling," he whispered, smug. "Cold?" he asked, voice dripping pure sin, "or somethin' else?"

"Y-you're cheating," you managed to choke out, laughing breathlessly.

Aokiji just grinned wickedly against your collarbone.

Suddenly, you felt it—a cold, delicate grip around your wrists.

You looked down to see thin rings of ice curling around them, not painful, but firm—anchoring you gently against the railing behind you.

Your breath hitched. Your heart slammed against your ribs.

"Aokiji…" you whispered, wide-eyed.

He looked up at you, lazy and devastatingly cocky.

"Relax," he purred, mouth brushing your ear. "You can melt 'em anytime… if you ask real nice."

You swallowed hard, feeling the cold of the ice and the burning heat of his mouth on your skin, the impossible contrast driving you absolutely insane.

He kissed your shoulder—slow, reverent—then trailed back up to your neck, biting a little harder this time, earning a shaky, desperate moan from your lips.

"You sound so pretty," he rasped, like he was barely holding himself back.

You tugged at the ice instinctively, but it only made the sensation sharper—being half-pinned, half-teased, at his mercy.

"You want me to stop?" he asked, lips ghosting over yours, voice infuriatingly smug.

You glared at him, cheeks flushed and heart racing. "Don't you fucking dare."

Aokiji laughed—a real, dark, hungry laugh—and then captured your mouth again in a kiss so deep, so filthy, you forgot what planet you were on.

You kissed him back just as desperately, your hips grinding against his without even thinking.

The ice melted instantly under your heat, but you didn’t even notice—you were too busy tugging him closer, swallowing each other whole.

When you finally broke apart, gasping, he rested his forehead against yours, smirking like the cocky bastard he was.

"You’re trouble," he whispered, voice wrecked and affectionate.

You smiled, tugging his collar.

"So ruin me already, Ice Man."

And from the wicked glint in his half-lidded eyes, you knew he fully intended to.