#and goddamn if it don't fuck me up every time

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Ride

Summary: Javi's a ride you can't resist (aka, it's more PWP LMAO)

Word Count: 1.9K

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: It's all porn again, sorry- Javi's POV, unprotected p in v (pls do not do, but who am I to say), oral (m receiving), Javi is down BAD for you bouncin' on that thang, idk y'all, make men yearn insatiably 2025 is the motto for the year, I don't make the rules

A/N: Hey, remember when I said I was gonna write this and then didn't? Guess who finally finished this thing 🤠 Shout out to @yxtkiwiyxt for gracing my brain with this idea, and to @gothcsz for being insane about it with me!!! @jolapeno I'm dragging you into this, too heheheh y'all, it seems like it's 24/7 horny hours over here, so apologies about being insufferable for This Man™️ enjoy, before someone eventually (and inevitably) calls animal control on me!! (we're also considering this piece a research project, fellow pillow princesses rise up LMAOOOOOOO)

He doesn’t notice the way the corner of his lip has been turned upward since he left your apartment. The strain in his cheek muscles are the last part of his body he’s concerned about. 

It takes everything in him to pretend like he’s did have to waddle to his desk through the office this morning. While there’s a part of him that curses the fact he can’t handle himself the way he used to as a younger man, he’d be lying out of his goddamn teeth if he said that he’d never been happier to be this sore. 

And he’s only got you to blame. 

It’s safe to say his work efficiency is absolutely fucked today. The only thing he has the mental capacity for is the image of you, straddled across his hips, riding him until he was half way convinced he’d never walk again. 

It had started off innocent enough, your body draped across his on the couch, re-runs of a sitcom he couldn’t be bothered to remember playing in the background. It wasn’t long until you had found a way to crawl into his lap, cute and giggly pecks of your lips shifting into a frantic dance of tongues and teeth, hungry and needy. 

“Let me take care of you, Javi.” 

You had whispered it in his ear like a siren song, the sultry promise of your words making him grow harder by the second beneath you. 

It was a luxury he had forgone for too many years to count, to let someone else take the lead- to work herself slowly into his lap, worship every inch of him, and fuck him in a way he was convinced he’d never be worthy of. 

In Colombia, sex was far from luxurious. Better yet, sex was a survival instinct- a way to gain intel from questionable informants or a chance to finally numb his mind from the pressure and terror of the things he’d endured, even if just for a little while. It simply existed as another need, like food or water, a way to keep him alive in the chaos of a cartel ridden country. 

But now, he’s home. He wakes up in the morning to the soft Laredo sunrise and closes his eyes to the cicadas chirping as the sky shifts to darkness, unburdened by the weight of the world that used to haunt him. Now, he slips into bed next to the warmth and softness of your figure, curled in the sheets next to him. 

Now, the world is different, because he has you.  

Sex is no longer a need. It’s an overwhelming want that stirs his stomach every time he sees you. It’s a desire that burns deep in his chest, an all consuming thought, an itch he just can’t scratch. No matter how hard he tries, he just can’t get enough of you. 

He still doesn’t understand how you can’t get enough of him, either. 

It’s not your words that solidify his belief that he’s worthy of you, even though every time you talk to him, he’s convinced he can’t breathe- He knows you love him from all the things your words can’t say. Your tender touch, gentle kisses on his lips whenever there’s a chance for them to meet, the way you can’t help but let your hands wander his body until they’ve explored every part of him with a fervent promise of desire. 

Perhaps there will always be a part of him convinced he’s not deserving of you, but with the way you have your hands wrapped around his cock, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, it’s all the convincing he needs for right now. 

It’s not long until your hands become your mouth, tongue dragging up and down the length of his shaft, swirling around his tip before sinking down so deep, he can feel the huffs of warm air from your nostrils tickling the hairs at his base. He’s lost in the warmth and wetness, hand tangled in your hair as he cradles the back of your head, gently guiding you up and down while you take him down your throat. 

As if he wasn’t wrecked already, it’s the devilish grin you shoot him with his cock buried deep inside your mouth, split dribbling down the corners of your curled lips, that has him all but whimpering, soft expletives and moans rapidly spilling out of him. 

He’s so drunk on you, eyes closed and head tipped back against the edge of the couch, he’s barely even registered when you’ve stopped, only looking up at you when he feels the way your weight has shifted, one hand bracing yourself against his chest while your hips hover over his cock. 

“You ready for me, cowboy?” 

He swears that one day that smirk will be damn near enough to kill him, but God knows he won’t let today be that day- not with what you’re about to do. 

All he can do is nod, the both of you breathless as you begin to sink down his length. It’s almost painfully slow, the way you’re taking him an inch at a time, teasing him the whole way down until you settle with him stuffing you to the brim, whining as your hips finally flush with his, taking everything he has to give. 

He’s not sure what higher power he needs to thank that you have the mercy to start slow- anything but the later, and he would have had no choice but to finish right then and there. His arms reach around your waist, fingers dipping in the dips of your hips as you roll them, like he’s holding on for dear life. 

Javi wishes his hands could be everywhere as you lean down to kiss him, that they could grope and grab at the plush of your breasts, cup your face, and smack your ass all at once. He needs you in a way that’s all consuming, a way that lets you know how lucky he is to have every part of you be his, and his alone. 

He’s handsy and fumbling like a goddamn teenager- you know it just as well as him. He should be embarrassed by the little giggle you give him in between the muffled moans of your mouths meeting, but he doesn’t care. Instead, for the first time in years, Javi laughs along with you. 

“Handsy, much?” You tease, nostrils crinkling and lips curling. 

“Can’t get enough of you, hermosa. Can never get enough of you.” 

You grant him one last kiss before you pull away, biting down on your lip as you watch his jaw drop at the way you shift your hips, leaning back to drag your cunt up and down his cock, sliding effortlessly with the way it’s drenched with your slick. 

The once forgiving ease of your pace has dissipated, your bottom half rocking as you ride him. He can’t decipher if the sultry smile spread across your face is from your own doing, or from the way he’s looking up at you, entranced and captivated by every movement you make. 

It’s enough of the second to seem to spur you on, bouncing faster on his length as your hands creep up your own chest, cupping your breasts in your hands to hold them as they jiggle. When your fingers slide across your pebbled nipples, tweaking the hardened buds between your index fingers and thumbs, Javi all but short circuits. There’s an extra ache in the way his cock throbs, watching the show you’re putting on for him. 

There’s something harmonious about the way your moans melt with the slap of your hips meeting his. Sure, it’s lewd, but fuck, if it isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever heard, watching you lose yourself in pleasure with the warmth and wet of your pussy wrapped around him. 

“Fuck, baby. Fuck, you’re so perfect. Look so fucking pretty bouncing on my cock.” 

He’s not sure how he even has the capacity to form coherent thoughts anymore, desperate and needy babbles falling from his parted lips like an endless waterfall of praises, just for you.  

“Feels so good, Javi. So fucking good.” 

Your cocky facade is beginning to fade, eyes scrunched shut in focus with every thrust up and down his length. It hasn’t taken him long to recognize the expression now plastered across your face- Javi knows it’s the reflex that tells him you’re close, that it won’t be much longer until you’re clamping down around his cock, the sound of his name hitching in the back of your throat as you cum. 

Your once methodical rhythm has transformed into something fiercely frantic, arching your back so that you can reach behind and brace yourself on his thighs, fingertips digging deep half moons into his skin. 

He’s too all consumed to do anything but watch, to take in the beauty that radiates off of every part of you straddled across his lap. 

He relishes in the melodic symphony of your moans, muffled and mixed with expletives between heavy breaths, lost in the soft sheen of sweat glistening over your skin, shimmering from the way you’ve all but conquered him, hips grinding down on him, taking all of him over and over. 

There’s a selfish war raging in his head amidst his mesmerization- One side wishing he could stay like this forever, keep you perched over his lower half, cock stuffed inside you until your bodies give out. The other prays you cum sooner rather than later- He won’t until you do, and lord knows it’s taking every ounce of self restraint he has left to make sure that happens. 

Fuck, maybe you really are trying to kill him. 

“Oh f-fuck- Fuck, I’m close, Javi.” You whimper, your grip around his thighs growing impossibly tighter as you furrow your brow in focus, not daring to let your pace falter, not when you’ve found the spot where the head of his cock fits perfectly inside you. 

“Use me, baby. Fuck- use me, pretty girl.” 

It’s not much longer until you’ve reached your peak, feeling the way you tighten around him as you soak his length with your slick, the once steady rhythm of your hips faltering as you cum. 

Your head thrusts back, chest heaving as you cry out his name, over and over, a sound he swears he’ll never tire of as long as he’s alive to hear it. Because when it falls from your lips, it stirs something so deep inside him, knowing he’s the reason you feel this way. 

That you’re his. 

There’s only moments until Javi’s following suit, fingers buried in the soft dips of your hips as he takes one final thrust, moaning into the crook of your neck while he cums, letting your pussy milk him of everything he has to give. 

The two of you have become a hot, sweaty mess of limbs, melting into each other’s bodies, unsure of where one starts and the other ends. But even with your head rested against his shoulder, he can feel the way your cheeks tense to house the smile spread between your lips. It’s only then he recognizes the same strain in his face, the subtle smirk he can’t seem to shake whenever he’s with you. 

It’s also then he realizes, as long as he’s with you, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to. 

“What’s that grin for?” You tease, sitting up to plant gentle kisses on his cheeks, brushing away the dark curls dangling over his forehead. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, you know that?”

“Well, good thing I feel the same then, huh?” 

Both your smiles stretch wider as he cups your jaw in his palm, his hand just big enough to let the ends of his fingers wrap around the back of your head, pulling your mouth to his, letting your lips lock for a moment before you break away. 

“Thanks for the ride, cowboy.” 

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

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@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[dulcescorderitas]

parings: dean winchester x reader

song: espresso by sabrina carpenter

warnings: 18+, smut

now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh

there's no goddamn way he’s sleeping. you know it because the phone’s already buzzing on the nightstand, screen lighting up with his name—dean. you sigh, knowing exactly what he wants, and when you pick up, his voice is low, rough, dripping with need. he never lasts more than a few days without this, without you. distance frays him at the edges, makes him restless.

is it that sweet? i guess so

"baby," he breathes, already wrecked. "you sleepin’?"

you chuckle, voice thick with exhaustion. "was about to."

"nah, you weren’t. you knew i was gonna call." his voice is a slow drag of heat, the same way his hands feel on your skin when he’s finally home, the same way his mouth lingers when he’s memorizing you all over again.

say you can't sleep, baby, i know

his voice is like warm whiskey over ice, like gravel under the tires of his impala, steady and rough. "can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you," he mutters, a groan slipping out like he’s already palming himself through his jeans. "wish i was home right now. wish i was fuckin’ buried in you."

that's that me espresso

heat blooms in your stomach at the way his voice tightens, the way he barely holds it together. "yeah?" you tease, already shifting under the sheets, already picturing his broad hands on your thighs, his mouth dragging over your skin. "tell me what you'd do."

move it up, down, left, right, oh

he lets out a shaky exhale, breath already ragged. "you know what i’d do. mouth on your neck, hands all over you—fuck, i’d take my time. make you feel so goddamn good." his voice drops lower, strained, as you hear the slick sound of him stroking himself, slow and teasing, like he’s savoring the ache. "wish I had my hands on you right now. wanna feel your tits, wanna taste every inch of you. bet you’re warm, soft—fuck, bet you’d feel so perfect wrapped around me."

he groans, deep and needy, and you swear you can hear his head tilting back against the pillow, his jaw tightening. "goddamn it, sweetheart. tell me you need it just as bad."

switch it up like nintendo

he’s always like this when he’s away too long—needy, relentless, like the distance between you is something he physically can’t stand. you’d laugh if it wasn’t so hot, if you didn’t know how wrecked he’d be when he finally got home.

say you can't sleep, baby, i know

his breath stutters through the line, and you can picture it perfectly—his head tilted back against some shitty motel pillow, body tense, fist wrapped tight around himself. "baby—shit—I’m close."

that's that me espresso

"good," you whisper, biting your lip. "wanna hear you fall apart for me."

too bad your ex don't do it for ya

when he finally gets home, it’s chaos. bags hit the floor, keys are forgotten, and his hands are on you before the door even shuts. he smells like road dust and leather, like gunpowder and whiskey, and it’s intoxicating.

walked in and dream-came-trued it for ya

you don’t even make it to the bedroom. dean’s got you pressed against the wall, mouth hot and demanding against yours, hands greedy and impatient. "been too fuckin’ long," he growls, voice thick with need. "gonna make up for every damn second."

soft skin and i perfumed it for ya

his fingers dig into your hips as he grinds against you, all heat and desperation. the solid wall against your back does nothing to cool the fire spreading through your veins as his mouth moves hot and open over your throat, teeth scraping just enough to make you gasp. his hands roam greedily, gripping, kneading, as if memorizing every inch of your body by touch alone.

"missed you so goddamn much," he mutters, voice barely holding steady. one hand slides between your thighs, pressing against your core through thin fabric, feeling the heat and wetness waiting for him. "need you. need all of you." his hips roll forward, grinding the hard length of him against you, and it's dizzying, the way he devours you, like he’s been starving for this, for you.

(yes) i know i mountain dew it for ya

you laugh, breathless, clinging to his shoulders. "then take me, winchester."

(yes) that morning coffee, brewed it for ya

the next few weeks, he hardly lets you out of his sight. anytime you move, he’s there—hands on your waist, mouth on your neck, pressing you into the mattress, the couch, the damn kitchen counter. he’s insatiable, but so are you, and every time he touches you, it’s like setting gasoline on fire.

(yes) one touch and i brand-newed it for ya

you tease him about it once, about how insatiable he is. he just grins, presses a kiss to your bare shoulder. "ain’t my fault," he murmurs, lazy and content. "you’re my goddamn addiction." and the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing keeping him together, you know it’s true.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts @sunsbaby @ambiguous-avery @sunnyteume @starzify

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥!

➺ PAIRING | gyutaro shabana x fem!reader.

➺ CONTENT WARNING | a little suggestive towards the end. 0,9k words not proofread

➺ NOTE | happy valentine's day to those who don't celebrate 🧚🏻‍♀️ I wanted this to be a janitor bot at first but I didn't want to 'waste' the idea on a bot :') I'm gonna be honest with y'all, the last few months have been pretty rough. I hate everything I write, and it's only getting worse with time. Im not sure if i'll ever get out of that state of mind at this point but oh well, haha. it is what it is I guesssss

Gyutaro had never cared about Valentine's Day before he met you.

Now, he’s pretty sure it’s his favorite day of the year. Not because he likes the holiday itself—no, he still thinks it’s ridiculous how people cling to shallow gestures and empty words, acting as if love only matters once a year when it’s wrapped in ribbons and chocolate. But you? You made it different. You made it meaningful.

This year, you had insisted on celebrating, saying something about making up for all the years he never got to experience it. Gyutaro had scoffed at the idea, grumbling about how pointless it was. But deep down, a part of him—one he barely admitted to himself—had been looking forward to it for weeks. (Not that he’d ever say it out loud.)

So now here he is, lying on your futon, watching as you carefully set up a tray with all the things you’ve prepared for him. Handmade chocolates, a cup of warm tea, and a tiny wrapped gift.

“You’re spoiling me too much, y'know,” he murmurs, scratching absently at his arm. His nails dig a little too hard into his skin but he barely notices. A small, barely noticeable smirk creeps onto his lips as he tilts his head at you. “Aren’t you worried I’ll start expecting this every year?”

“Maybe that’s my plan,” you tease back, kneeling beside him. Before he can respond, you lean in to press a soft kiss to his lips, the tender gesture making him freeze.

God. Why'd you have to be so goddamn perfect? He hates it. Hates how easily you manage to drive him crazy with the simplest touch. How badly he wants more. How he's already fighting his own body so that he doesn't pounce on you and take your right here and there on this futon before you even have the chance to go through with the date. He’s pathetic, isn’t he? The thought makes him dig his nails a little deeper into his palm — but before it can get to the point of drawing blood, your hand is on his wrist, gentle as always, guiding his fingers away from his skin.

“Hey. None of that, baby.” you interrupt his train of thoughts, bringing his knuckles to your lips. “No self-loathing allowed on Valentine's day, 'kay?"

Gyutaro immediately looks away and huffs, heat quickly creeping up his neck. Fuck. He loves you. He loves you. He loves you so fucking much his throat tightens with the need to scream it on top of the roofs. He's not sure why the universe suddenly decided to bless him with a love like yours, but, hell. He isn't about to take it for granted.

With a slightly trembling hand, he plucks one of the chocolates from the tray in front of him and pops it into his mouth, desperately needing to shift the focus off himself.

“You made those yourself? Eh, they're not bad, I guess..." he teases, letting out a quiet hum of approval.

“Not bad?” you gasp. “I spent all evening making these, and all you’ve got for me is ‘not bad’?”

Gyutaro grins, watching the way your lips purse in mock indignation. The way you tease him so effortlessly, like he’s just a guy and not the ugly loser he knows himself to be — it makes something warm stir inside him, his dick hardening and twitching traitorously in his pants. But he ignores it, not wanting to out himself as a complete creep to the girl he loves. Instead, he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch surprisingly delicate. His fingers brush against your cheek, feeling the heat of your skin beneath them.

“Yeah, alright, fine..." he rolls his eyes playfully. “They’re perfect. Just like you.”

Your eyes widen for a moment, your lips parting and closing again in shock. Then you let out a laugh, tilting your head to press a kiss to the heel of his palm. “Mhm, that’s better.”

“Hey, don’t get all cocky with me now,” His smirk widens, fingers intertwining with yours. “It’s not every day I hand out compliments, y’know. Don't get used to it.”

You squeeze his hand, your fingers tracing idle patterns against his skin. “Well, I guess that just makes them even more special, then.”

Gyutaro doesn’t argue. The truth is, he'll probably shower you with compliments every day after that. He knows it, and he knows you do too.

His heart beats an unsteady rhythm against his ribs, but he finds he doesn’t mind. He likes this. Likes you.

When you shift closer and tug him into your arms, Gyutaro doesn't resist. He lets you guide his head to rest against your chest and exhales a long breath, his entire body relaxing when your fingers start threading through his messy, tangled hair.

A long silence settles between you then, but it isn’t uncomfortable. He tightens his grip on you, letting his fingers curl into the fabric of your clothes as if that will somehow ground him.

Gyutaro closes his eyes, letting himself enjoy the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest as you kiss the crown of his head. For once, he doesn’t feel like a monster. He doesn’t feel like something broken. He's just... a man, held in the arms of someone who loves him. And for the first time in a long, long time, he thinks that maybe—just maybe—happiness isn’t entirely out of his reach.

[nethhiri]

Knight Tutor

Knight!Zoro x Princess!Reader

I saw that post going around, the one that's like "princess reader that knows nothing of sex and a knight that's all too eager to teach her" or whatever and I can't get the damned thing out of my head. Happy Valentine's!

Warnings: Sex, masturbation

"Oi! I've been lookin for ya."

You jumped at the sound of your personal guard's voice, turning to face him.

"Stop going off on your own." He squinted with suspicion at you. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," you said too quickly.

Zoro firmly moved you from your spot, looking through the crack in the door that you had been peering into. He spun around, took you by the arm, and swiftly escorted you out of the barn you were in.

"Are you mad? Do you want people to think you're a little pervert?"

You looked at your feet. It was true, you had been watching one of the stable boys and one of the maids have relations, but it wasn't lecherous. You had gone to the barn to be away from the bustling castle. You didn't particularly like being fawned over or waited on every second of the day. You had no time to yourself. So when you heard strange wet, slapping sounds, you took it upon yourself to investigate. Being a princess, it wasn't proper for you to have any knowledge of sex, and certainly not proper for you to be involved in it. And of course, since it was taboo, that made you want to know more about it. What was this thing that was so secret and why were you not allowed to participate?

You shook your arm free from his grip. "I am not a little pervert. I was curious."

"Well, you better stop being so curious, princess, or you're going to ruin your reputation." Zoro patted your head. "You know your father is working very hard to find you a good match."

"Fuck a good m-."

Zoro covered your mouth, cutting you off. "Stop with that language. It's not fitting for a princess."

"You're the one who taught me how to talk like that," you continued when he removed his hand.

"If you were training to be a knight, that would be good and well, but you're not, so behave." Zoro sighed," I signed up to be a guard not a goddamn babysitter."

"No one is making you mind me. You do that of your own accord."

"I only want what's best for you."

"Why?"

Zoro didn't answer you, simply escorted you back to the castle with a tint of pink to his ears.

Later that evening, you sat with your back to the large, extravagant double doors of your chamber, as you had every night since you started your late night chats with Zoro. It became a habit after a few nights of insomnia on your part. You would talk until it was time for him to switch shifts to sleep.

"You there?"

"Always am," Zoro's low voice answered.

The hallway echoed so he had to speak quietly. Sometimes you could barely hear him.

"Sorry about earlier," You said. "I don't mean to be trouble for you."

"We don't need to talk about it." Zoro continued, "And you're never trouble. Truth is, I would get bored if I didn't have you."

Silence took hold after that for a long while. You heard Zoro's voice again.

"Why do you want to know so badly about... sex?"

"I know men like it, and I know I'm supposed to marry a man, so why is it that I can't know about it. Shouldn't I? To please whomever I marry?"

"You would think that." Zoro contemplated for a moment. "If I tell you about it, will you promise not to go peeping anymore?"

"You'll tell me?"

"Who better to hear it from?"

"I suppose... but how do you know?"

"How do I know? About sex?" Zoro laughed. "Do you think I'm a virgin?"

"I thought all men in service to the crown had to be celibate."

"Maybe the men of the church." He laughed again. "The knights are... well, most are the exact opposite of virgins."

"What about you?"

"I've... lain with a few."

"Hm."

"I'm not a man-whore if that's what you're thinking."

"I'm not judging. So get on with it. Tell me."

Zoro explained, in the most polite way he could, how sex worked. He answered all your questions, even the more uncomfortable ones.

"So then what is masturbation?"

Zoro let out a long sigh. "You are going to be the death of me. You know that?"

"May as well impart your wisdom before then, don't you think?"

It was the last question he answered before he had to turn in for the night.

The following day, when you were in your bath, you started thinking of the conversation. Maybe you could try it. It was private enough here. You slid your hand between your thighs, exploring the parts of yourself you hadn't thought to explore before. You found yourself squirming under your own fingertips when you brushed certain spots. Before you knew it, you were panting and trying to stifle your cries of pleasure. You could feel your abdomen grow tight, like something was building.

Suddenly, the door burst open and you screamed. "Princess?! Are you al- OH. SORRY. Sorry sorry sorry." Zoro snapped the door shut as quickly as he had opened it.

You did not come out of your chambers the rest of the day. For the first time, you considered not having your nightly chat with your guard. What were either of you going to say? But it was tradition, so you sat in your spot. Both of you knew the other was on the other side of the door but neither wanted to say anything.

"I'm sorry," Zoro broke the silence first. "I thought you were crying not... you know." He cleared his throat. "So... did you figure it out?"

"I think so. Didn't get to the end I don't think."

"You should try again. I could help... er... not physically I mean." Zoro went on. "Try thinking about something or someone that gives you that fluttering feeling in your stomach."

Did he mean...now? It sort of sounded like it, and you wanted to listen well to him after the trouble you caused. You closed your eyes and try to conjure someone. The only person you had ever thought about kissing was him, and when you thought of it, it did indeed give you a fluttering feeling.

"Then really build up to it. Don't go right to the source. Trail your fingers over your skin, imagine that it's that person you're thinking of."

You did as he said, ghosting your finger tips over your stomach, the tops of your breasts, your inner thighs, your throat. You pushed up your nightie. You imagined it was him.

"Touch yourself over your clothes. Build up anticipation."

Your fingers trailed up your thigh, moving over your clothed center. You could feel it become damp. Pressing your fingers more firmly into your apex, you started to rub. Your breath quickened and your nipples hardened.

"Slide your hand beneath the fabric, tease yourself, then press your fingers inside."

Your hand slipped below the waistband of your panties, you allowed your fingers to play with your bare clit until your pussy clenched around nothing. Then you gave it something to squeeze when you put your middle finger inside its warm, wet walls.

"Move slowly at first. Feel the drag in and out. Then you can change your pace or add another finger. You can use two hands if you want, to stimulate yourself."

You slid your ring finger next to the first, feeling a small sting. You brought your other hand to circle fingers around your clit, turning the slight pain pleasurable after a few seconds.

"Don't forget the rest of your body. You can tilt your hips. You can touch other parts of your body. You can switch hands."

You did what he suggested, grabbing your breasts and rutting your hips into your fingers. You could feel that same build up that you had earlier. You imagined what it would feel like if it was his thick, rough hands on you. You imagined him watching you with desire in his own eyes. You imagined what it would be like to lay with him. The build up continued. Zoro was saying something but you couldn't hear him over your pleasure. With a cry that startled you, your walls clenched your fingers and this flood of tingling heat wracked your body.

"Y/N? Y/N what were you doing? Were you just...?"

You were still a bit dazed from this new high. "What do you mean? I was doing what you were telling me to do. And it w-worked."

"Y/N! I was- I was merely giving you suggestions not instructions." Zoro made an aggravated groan. "Fuck, Princess, you're going to get me in so much trouble."

"I won't tell anyone. No one will know."

"Go to sleep. I should never have indulged you."

The following day, Zoro didn't look you in the eye. The truth was he was tormented all night with the sounds of your masturbation echoing in his head. It filled him with shame to do it, but his cock ached thinking of you, and he had to relieve the pain. Once wasn't enough either. Zoro came several times imaging that he was the one making you cry out like that. Technically, he was. The thought of you doing as he said, touching yourself, was more than he could bear. He feared that if he looked at you, nothing would be able to stop him from pressing his lips onto yours. He would love nothing more than to be your servant in every way, but he knew better. That would never be possible for a knight.

Before you turned in for the night, you confronted him.

"Zoro, why won't you look at me?"

"I can't."

"Is it because... you think less of me now?"

"No! Of course not."

"Then why? Are you ashamed of me?"

"No! Listen... Y/N..."

"Please look at me."

"I won't be able to help myself if I look."

"I don't understand."

"Princess, please. I am begging you to leave it alone. It will be better for both of us."

"Zoro... I love you."

That was enough to make his eyes shift to you, to see if you meant it. One glance at your strawberry colored cheeks, framed by your soft hair, and your half-parted lips, plump with the blood rushing to them, had him weak. He was strong-willed in everything, except when it came to you. The truth was, the last time he'd lain with anyone was years ago. He stopped when he realized they weren't you. Over the many nights he spent talking to you, he found himself falling in love. How many times had he heard your bubbling laugh, muffled behind the door, echo in his dreams?

Zoro didn't need to wrestle with the temptation of kissing you because you made the decision for him. You grabbed his face and pulled it to your own. Your kiss was clumsy, inexperienced. You floundered, yet, as he always did, Zoro stepped in to save you. Zoro held your chin with shaky hands, pressing his lips to yours. They were every bit as soft as he imagined.

"I love you, too." He murmured against your lips. "Always have."

When he came to his senses, he shoved you inside your room and shut the door quickly behind you. For a moment, he was too caught up in the enchantment that was you to worry about someone seeing you together. Zoro stripped his armor off, and you helped him, until he was down to his underclothes. You weren't yet in your nightie. Zoro unlaced your corset and unfastened your skirts faster than you expected, like he had done it before, which you decided not to ponder on. His scarred hands touched your skin like it would tear if he pressed too hard. Zoro hesitated to take off the last layer of your clothing.

"Are you sure, Princess?" More softly, "Y/N?"

You answered by removing his shirt, though he caught your wrist when you went for his pants. Zoro kissed your hand, then traveled up your arm, peppering kisses along the way until he reached your neck. He moved your hair away, desperately wanting to suck at the skin, but painfully aware that if he left a mark, there would be repercussions. Instead he kept it to light kisses, backing you up until the back of your knees touched the bed. He lowered you onto it, but didn't get on himself.

Slowly, he knelt at the foot of your bed, lifting the hem of your slip to reveal skin that only your own eyes had ever seen. It was so supple and silky, a far cry from his own marred and work-hewn skin. Here, on your thighs, he could give in to his wanton desires. Zoro sucked at the skin, leaving red blossoms in a trail to your own petals.

You hadn't been nervous until he had your skirt pushed all the way up to your hips. This wasn't at all like what you had seen in the stables. Every move he made was deliberate, so you could stop him if you wanted. But you didn't. When he put his mouth on your sex, the feeling was so foreign you couldn't focus on how good it felt. That wasn't even the part that you thought was supposed to go there.

Zoro seemed to have noticed your anxiety. "Relax, Princess." He reached one of his hands out to hold yours. "Let me show you." With his other hand, he rubbed your side in a soothing way. "Lay back. I'll take care of you. Like always."

You did as he said, closing your eyes and letting the good feelings take over. It felt even better when someone else was doing it to you. At some point, you had put your hand on Zoro's head, pushing him into you. Your back arched off the bed and he grabbed your thigh to keep you from squirming away. That tightening feeling in your center came back. Just as you were about to reach your peak, he pulled away.

"Damn. You have to be quiet or you'll wake the whole castle."

"Sorry," you panted. When had you become out of breath?

Zoro took this opportunity to climb over you on the bed, kissing you again, this time tasting of you. You pushed yourself back to lay on the pillows and Zoro pushed the rest of your slip over your head. You were laid bare before him and your nipples hardened to the exposure of the cold air. He fixated on them, and in the same way, you fixated on the bulge in his pants. Zoro noticed your gaze, unfastening his bottoms so he was equally as nude. Taking the size of his member into consideration, and how it hurt to have just two fingers inside, you swallowed.

"It's- it's going to fit?"

Zoro laughed. "Yes, it will fit."

"Will it hurt?"

"Yes, it will, but only for a little bit." Zoro kissed you more. "Don't worry. We're going to get you ready first. And we can stop if it hurts too much."

You nodded.

Zoro started with a finger, then another. You felt that tightening feeling with every movement of his hand. With his free hand, he lightly covered your mouth. It was hard to control your sounds when he was making you feeling this good.

"Shh. Be good, my princess. Or I'll have to stop."

You nodded again.

Zoro lifted your own hand and pressed it where his had been. He needed his hands. One to pleasure you and one to pleasure himself. His cock was hard and it throbbed with the thought of sinking into your folds. Zoro added a third finger, making you squeeze your thighs together. It burned and stretched. The pain was almost immediately replaced by pleasure. Again, as your core tightened, close to your release, Zoro pulled his hand away.

"Sorry," he said. "I'll make you cum. But I want to feel you cum around my cock when I make you cum for the first time."

"Technically, it would be the second."

Zoro grinned. "You should know smart-mouthed brats are my favorite... since you are one." He looked at you with anticipation. "Are you ready?"

You nodded, parting your legs for him. "Yes."

Zoro slotted himself between your legs, lining his cock up with the entrance of your cunt. You winced as he pressed into your folds. He watched your face, looking for discomfort so he could adjust accordingly. As he pushed deeper, you had the sensation of being full. It felt right that it was him filling you. It took a few more minutes before he was fully inside. That alone, without any movement, had your core tighter than it had ever been. You felt your cunt pulse around him.

Zoro kissed you long and deep before he began to move. It was to let you adjust to him. It was also to prevent him from finishing too soon. He hadn't had the pleasure of hot, wet cunt in ages and his hand was far less satisfying. He wanted to cum as soon as you started letting those sweet, shy moans out when he was face-first in your pussy. Zoro started moving, gradually hitting a pace that made you cover your own mouth out of fear that you would make too much noise. Your thighs clenched around him as he rutted deeply into you. He bent down to take your nipple into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. Your back arched and you couldn't stay still underneath him. The sensations building were too much to handle.

You removed your hands to grasp at the sheets beneath. Zoro covered your mouth with his to contain your cries. His own soft moans melded with yours and you were both lost in each other, forgetting about the world around you. If all you had was him, you would be fine with that, and the reverse was true as well. You gripped his hair, pressing your kisses harder into him, feeling the coil wound tight about to snap. Then, an intense wave of pleasure flooded every inch of your body. If not for you kissing, that cry would have certainly woken the castle.

Your cunt spasmed around him, squeezing him, trying to milk him. Zoro nearly forgot to pull out. So badly he wanted his cum to be deep inside you, filling your cunt for the first time. He wanted to watch it leak from between your legs. He wanted it to drip into your panties and make them damp so every time you felt that cool wetness, you thought of fucking him. Zoro came hard, barely making it out of your cunt before ropes of hot cum shot onto your stomach. And if some didn't make it out in time, then so be it. Watching you round with his baby would make him happy, even if you were wed to another.

Zoro rolled off you and sighed deeply. "Fuck, Princess. You really are going to get me in trouble."

"I'll visit you at the gallows."

Zoro scoffed, then smiled. "Smartass."

Zoro helped you clean up and put your nightie on. He put his own clothes on and kissed you goodnight, reluctant to go. He would give anything to lay next to you and hold you close, but it could never be. And this probably couldn't happen again either, though he was grateful for the memory.

Except it did happen again. Many more times. Many more positions. All for educational purposes, of course. Pillow talk consisted of plans to start a life somewhere else, hypothetically, of course. But as feelings grew and became deeply tangled, it became less hypothetical, until it was real. Which was why you were waiting patiently in the dead of night, in the stables, with a horse packed and ready to go.

"Oi, you here?" The voice of your knight whispered.

"Always am," you answered.

[mooncello]

hi, friends. I shared a few days ago that I haven't been able to write since I posted chapter 8 at the beginning of January. It's been rough ngl. Every time I thought about writing, I wondered what was the point? (I know the point but depressive episodes don't really give a fuck.)

have you heard about federal programs and departments dropping the 'T' from LGBTQ? it's awful and dangerous. (one awful thing in a sea of horrifying things.) it's also stupid and desperate. because they can't erase us, no matter how hard they try.

but also: visibility matters. it saves lives.

over the past few days, as snow fell upon my city, I grabbed my phone and started tapping out a handful of sentences. there is so much out of my control, but I can write queer stories. I'm dreaming up some trans characters, and I'm working on some original fic again. dev and niall deserve their ending in mtaf.

so. here are a few sentences from chapter 9 of more than a footnote. this is in the messy draft stage, but I'm still sharing them because I think I like these lines. placing under the cut because SPOILERS. don't read if you haven't read through chapter 8 yet.

Dev POV

"Piss off," I snarl to [redacted], "you pathetic, wanking troglobite." "Troglobites are quite a feat of evolution, you know," Niall murmurs to me, not granting [redacted] a single glance; he's more preoccupied with scratching his fingers through my hair at the back of my neck. "So that isn't the burn you think it is." I pin Niall with my most aggrieved look. "Omigod, could you please stop being the cutest fucking nerd for five seconds? I'm trying to insult someone here." Niall grins, mouths okay, and kisses me. The clatter of breakfast and [redacted] and the entire goddamn dining hall fade away, my world contracting to the way Niall's lips move against mine. Because it's adoring and so very sure. This is a kiss with history behind it. And a future ahead. It makes my heart seize with happiness and my toes curl inside my shoes.

I love them being little shits together. Chapter 9 is gonna be so good, y'all. Dev and Niall in love with each other is the best. It's all there in my head; I've just gotta write it.

alright, take care of one another this week. love ya.

tags! thank you for the tags today @monbons @thewholelemon and @j-trow-95.

🖤 @drowninginships @valeffelees @run-for-chamo-miles @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony

@youarenevertooold @shrekgogurt, @hushed-chorus @whatevertheweather, @cutestkilla

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @emeryhall, @imagineacoolusername

@iamamythologicalcreature, @bookish-bogwitch @thewholelemon, @best--dress, @rimeswithpurple

@ileadacharmedlife @skeedelvee, @monbons, @alexalexinii

@theimpossibledemon, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @larkral, @messofthejess, @talentpiper11

@fiend-for-culture + anyone else who would like to join

[nqueso-emergency]

If I had a dollar for every time a buddie weaponized racism to cover up their shitty behavior...I'd have a lot of money to donate to a worthy cause. If they put a sliver of the effort into fundraising as they do on this cringe ass performative activism, they could actually do some good in the world.

I like Eddie. I love his relationship with his son. My go to video when I've had a terrible day is their morning routine montage because it's the cutest thing of all time. I'm from LA. I know exactly how important it is to have Hispanic rep on this show (especially a Mexican man), and having authentic rep of disability via such a wonderful character like Chris is huge.

That said. If both actors could move on to work they both loved (or whatever GM decides to do), then yes I would honestly be relieved if their characters left the show. If I never had to receive another piece of pedophilia fanfic (I'm up to 6 now)? If I never had to see another death threat against a real person used for lolz? If it meant no more ironic burning pride flags and straight up hate speech? If I didn't have to see another buddie claim that BT fans are just as terrible and then never, ever have a goddamn receipt? Then yes, for me it'd be worth it. Sure that makes me selfish, but what the fuck do you expect from someone who has been literally terrorized for 10 months?

So please. Spare me the faux outrage because ya'll sure as shit haven't cared before.

Honestly, I don't think that makes you selfish at all ❤️🫂

[thevioletcaptain]

i genuinely don't care how good a piece of ai generated art or writing looks on the surface. i don't care if it emulates brush strokes and metaphor in a way indistinguishable from those created by a person.

it is not the product of thoughtful creation. it offers no insights into the creator's life or viewpoint. it has no connection to a moment in time or a place or an attitude. it has no perspective. it has no value.

it's empty, it's hollow, and it exists only to generate clicks (and by extension, ad revenue.)

it's just another revolting symptom of the disease that is late stage capitalism, and it fucking sucks.

[loisfreakinglane]

so many buffyverse characters were written to be oneoffs but became vital characters for many years to come. it feels organic and helps the worldbuilding so much.

but not kendra. not kendra!!!!!!!!!! who is IMMEDIATELY so vibrant and fascinating, bubbly and headstrong and proud and judgmental, a huge bookworm who laughs about excessive footnotes, who stammers in front of boys, who loves crop tops and makeup and heavy jewelry. kendra who trades insults with buffy, then softly asks for her help. calls buffy weird for dating a vampire, mocks her for dying, then tells her she learned so much just from their short time together. kendra who was taken from her parents so young she doesn't remember them, who's never had friends, who isn't allowed to speak to boys or go to school or have a life.

of all characters who deserved to be written into the narrative, or be resurrected after they died, she makes the top of the list

[senselessalchemist]

Bow problems (+ other nonsense)

[carlyraejepsans]

oh i am going to Murder my roommate

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

I am exhausted, good heavens.

[autumn-applepie]

Doing the most irresponsible thing and using my scholarship to buy Kinito because if I don't I will explode <3

[billgenbrough]

Being disabled and relying on someone who sees you as a burden is not something I'd recommend

[starfieldcanvas]

bren cameron:

*defies a direct order and runs backward into a firefight while dozens of people are risking their lives to keep him safe, leading to several people dying*

bren: jago why is nobody answering my questions? jago why are we doing this that and the other thing?? what do our orders mean??? are you sure this is a good idea????

jago: *slaps him across the face* FUCK!!!! JUST SHUT UP AND DO WHAT YOU'RE TOLD!!!!!!! *stalks away*

bren: 🥺🥺🥺 why is she so mad? what signals did i miss? atevi are so confusing.

[liedownquisition]

I'm so tired.

Bonus meme under cut:

This is both for him in general (or at least the fanon version dominating fics) and extra for him as Robin specifically tbh. Let him grow up and find an identity outside of being Bruce's emotional support child. It's not like it's actually helping anymore anyways.

[ourceliumnetwork]

me, the symptoms experiencer, experiencing symptoms: wow gee i wonder what the fuck is happening right now i have no context for why i could possibly feel bad, surely i'm not experiencing symptoms. me, when i figure out it's the symptoms: