#and he’ll rotate through them

[catboywizard]

i love my cat more than anything but why is he such a bullyyyyy

[eupheme]

k04. daddy kink | the way you want to

old man logan x f!reader

rated e - 2.5k

tags: situationship, possessive!soft dom logan, daddy kink, teasing/begging, logan taking an educated wish, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, mutual unspoken pining, vaginal sex, creampie

“Daddy, huh?”

“She was joking,” You’re quick to answer - that eye contact breaking, “It’s just an expression.”

He hums knowingly, an eyebrow cocking, “You sure about that, princess?”

(or - logan overhears something he shouldn’t have.)

You can’t help the jolt of anticipation as you watch the limo pull up to the pump.

Always the same. Two times a week - sometimes more, if you pick up extra shifts. Waiting for the text to chime in your pocket, as it always did.

Feet already taking you over to the coffee machine. Filling a styrofoam cup full - black roast. The strong stuff.

Your back pocket buzzes.

Need a ride?

It’s always the same. Been that way for a few months now. His shift ending just as yours did. Offering you a ride home, something that started kindly but twisted into more the moment you bridged that gap between you.

Almost as if he had just been waiting for permission. Almost as if he thought of you the way you did him.

Wishing thinking, perhaps, but you’ve always been a dreamer.

You fire back a reply. Sometime extra, tacked on at the end.

Yes, please ❤️

The flick of your thumb scrolls through old messages, as you wait at the counter. His replies always short, but you think that’s just him.

He does reply, after all. Wry comments about the photos you send him. The baby raccoon you helped out of the dumpster, the icee incident from last week.

Some even instigated on their own, and not the result of the slow rotation you’ve found yourselves in.

The morning shift arrives, just as he comes in. Holly’s early today - her elbow leaning on the counter, content to let you finish out these last few minutes before taking over.

Logan’s eyes find yours first, with the push of the door. Already fishing out a wallet, and you know what he’ll pass you.

A crisp ten. Enough to fill his tank - always stopping when he’s half-empty.

Tells you it’s because he doesn’t want the tank to get too low, incase a client has a far drive. You wonder if it’s because it means he gets to stop by a little more often.

The sight of him still sends a thrill through you, even after the weeks have passed. Built strong - the buttons of his dark suit hanging loose, though the shoulders still pull tight as the wallet fits back into his pocket.

Beautiful, in a way that always sends your mind reeling. Mentally mixing the gold and bronze and green to match the shades of your personal muse. A stoic man, with kind eyes.

Fingers always aching to paint him, as much as they had ached to touch.

That flicker of softness in them disappearing quickly, with a narrowed glance at your coworker. The rough clearing of a throat when you nudge the coffee and a pastry his way.

Something for him. And then something for his father, Charles. Even if it was more sugar than sustenance.

Shooing away his gruff offer to pay, as you close the space between you with a grin. Giving him a glance down the deep cut of your shirt.

His dark eyes flick back up, as he finally relents.

Stubborn.

“Be out in five.” You tell him - the pastry tucked under his arm. The coffee cup small in the thick curl of his hand, another watchful glance your way as he heads out to wait.

Still passing through the glass double-doors when Holly pipes up next to you.

“God, is that him?” She tips forward, to get another look, “You’re right, he is so daddy.”

You suck air from between your teeth, regretting your overshare. A groan sent her way - her voice far too loud in the early morning.

Even if she wasn’t wrong.

There’s the sharp bite of coffee when your mouth finally presses to his. His hands working at his belt buckle - the glint of metal in your dark room, light still spilling in from the hallway.

They’re - he’s - all you’ve been able to think about. The long hours at night behind the counter. Ringing up energy drinks and hotchips with a smile. A way to help pay the bills, while you wait for the layers of oil paint dry.

Your mind running wild when you’re alone, after. The drift of your hand beneath the blankets.

Imagining those strong, scared hands twisting in your hair. Guiding you - always guiding. Showing you just what he liked, as that rough voice told you just how good you’re doing.

It itched at something inside you - winding tight when you pressed your fingers deep, until you’re muffling a moan into your pillow.

The bed dips, as he follows you onto it. His mouth finding yours again, the press of his lips familiar. The smell of cigar smoke and leather seats and the crisp autumn air as you inhale him.

His hands tilting your face so his tongue can sweep into your mouth.

You part for him.

When you draw back for breath, he is half-undone.

Loosened buttons on his shirt. A tight white tank beneath, the ribbing melding to the broad planes of his chest. A peak of dark hair at the waistband of his trousers. The silver teeth of a lowered zipper.

His hands ghost at your sides. Slipping beneath the hem of your sweater, brushing bare skin. A thumb, teasing at the edge of your pants.

“Take these off for me, baby.”

You’re quick to listen. Layers peeled away, as you shift back against the pillows. His eyes following each piece, sweeping over the revealed skin.

His own hand slipping down. Cupping himself, tugging down the elastic waistband. Swollen - hard already, as his cock bobs free. Fitting himself between your thighs, the moment they part.

Hands ghosting up, fingers denting skin.

Something weighs on his mind - you can feel it in the searching way he looks at you. An inhaled and held breath, eyes dark with want.

Wonder if it will loosen, in time. With the press of your mouth, or as he sinks inside you.

It’s become part of your routine, as well.

Little questions or confessions weaved into the moments of borrowed time he runs on. Easy to distract you - with the snap of his hips, the curl of his fingers - if you nudge too close to something tender.

His thighs inching wider, hands curving against your hips. A tug pulls you closer to where he kneels on the bed, your thighs thrown over his.

Spread open beneath him - your fingers trailing up the velvet length of his cock, where it arcs against your abdomen.

Another shift of his hips skims the underside against your clit, dampening with your arousal.

He’s taking it slower than usual tonight. Drawing things out, with the way his thumbs smooth circles against your skin.

Those dark eyes flipping up to yours. That question, slipping free.

“Daddy, huh?”

It catches you off guard. Your hips buck against his without meaning to. A sharp, inhaled breath as the way it rolls off his tongue, your body betraying you.

His eyebrow lifts with interest, expression darkening as mortification laces through you. Wasn’t supposed to hear that - a mooning admission after one too many drinks, after-hours at the bar next door.

“She was joking,” You’re quick to answer - the eye contact breaking as your head tilts, “It’s just an expression.”

He hums knowingly.

Another rut of his hips, pressing against your folds. You squirm - an attempt to flip over, to avoid having to look at him - but his hands only tighten on your hips.

An eyebrow cocks, “You sure about that, princess?”

Another bitten-back sound. You’ve never minded being like this beneath him - bare, open to the drift of his hands and his mouth.

It turned you on, this needy and messy joining. But it feels different now. Vulnerable, with the way he watches you so intently.

“Don’t tease me.” It’s a plea, as the corner of his mouth ticks up.

A shift of his hips, a hand loosening his grip so he can press his thumb against the flushed head. Guiding himself to where you drip for him.

Hips rocking slowly, eyes fixed on the way your part. How your pussy grips him, swallowing the tip as you moan.

Your breath held.

Waiting for the stretch. The sweet burn that curls into pleasure, when he seats himself deep inside you. The way you always have to make room for every inch of him, your muscles already strung tight in anticipation.

He holds himself there. Inched inside you, thumb tugging you open. A huff of a breath as you push up to your elbows, your gaze flicking between his cock and his face in question.

“Ask me for it.”

His voice is a low husk, eyes fixed on yours. Something sparking between you - a heavy, charged tension.

You’re used to begging. It comes easily - a futile wiggle of your hips, as he holds you in place.

“Logan, please.”

“Not like that.” His tongue clicks, “Ask me the way you want to, sweetheart.”

It steals you breath for a moment. Eyes narrowed as you try to discern if he’s making fun of you.

Teeth white and sharp as he smiles - voice dropping lower.

“You really think I can’t tell?”

Logan starts to withdraw, but you clench down around him. Hands overlapping with his and pressing down, to keep him where he is.

“You want Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He rasps, “Want him to take care of you?”

He picks over the words carefully, as if trying them out for himself.

As if he’s doing this for you, and it’s enough that that tight string of worry and tension inside you frays, and then snaps.

And surely he must feel you this time, the way you clench down around him. No escaping what he does to you, not like this.

“Yes,” You breathe, “Want you to fuck me, daddy.”

The word pitches high, as his hips punch forward. Your nails biting into his hands, leaving half-moon marks.

“Atta girl.” Logan grits, enveloped in you.

Every inch nestled deep inside. A needy and pretty little thing, with the way you gasp and moan and squirm for him.

Even more so when his hands travel down. Hitching one leg, and then the other, over his broad shoulders, as he leans into you. One hand planted next to your head, the other curving around your ankle, pinning you in place.

A experimental thrust, and it feels like he’s in your guts. Your moans strings out, as he bends you in half.

Until all you can see is him, all you can feel is the way he keeps you full with the shallow shifts of his hips, as he ruts into you.

“Feel good, honey?” He grits, as if he needs to know.

And maybe he likes doing this for you. Hearing what it does to you - from the praise that slips from you, to the slap of his hips against yours.

Proof that he exists inside your mind, for longer than these brief moments - that in some way, you need him as much as he needs you.

Knowing that no one can fuck you like he can.

“Yes, daddy.” You sigh, leaning into it now.

Blissed out, as his cock nudges against a soft and sensitive spot inside you. Tightening around him, as his weight presses you into the mattress.

All the worries and stress off the day ebbing, as he makes you forget about everything else.

“Should have known,” Logan rasps, with the pump of his hips, “Always so fucking wet for your old man.”

His words twist inside you, a moan loosening in your throat.

He’d said something like that before. The first time you’d invited him inside, and he had come so willingly.

Only pausing as his lips had ghosted against yours, just inside the door. Something low, rumbled out.

“'m an old man, sweetheart.” Strong hands gripped your hips - you hadn’t been sure if it was to pull you closer, or push you away, “Sure a sweet thing like you wants this?”

“Not that old.” You had huffed against his mouth.

Not too old to show you a good time, you’d been sure. Been proven right, night after night. Spiraling into something more, his presence tinting your life like a rose-colored campitura.

Logan had laughed as if you’d said something funny, right before he had kissed you - that low rasp that still makes your toes want to curl.

Your fingers fit between your thighs now, the tips pressing circles against your clit. A grunt pulled from him as your breath hitches, your other hand fisting in the pillows under your head.

“Filthy little thing, aren’t you?”

The pleasure spikes, “Only for you.”

Your answer makes him growl. Makes him fuck you harder, eyes greedy as he watches the bounce of your breasts, the mark between your eyebrows deepen.

Possessive.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” He rumbles, “Only for me.”

He’s grinding against that spot inside you. Your folds slick beneath your fingers, your hand moving faster as something bright burns inside you.

A flutter of a laugh is pulled from you, eyes going half-lidded, “Gonna make me come.”

His hips stutter once against yours. Fingers tightening around your ankle, as his eyes drag from the needy press of your fingers to your face.

“That right?”

Hips snapping just a little harder, as you whine. Your grip tightening in the pillowcase as you pant, your drawn-out hum of assent quickly unraveling.

“Come on daddy’s cock, sweetheart,” Logan coos, “Been thinking about this all night.”

And it’s this that sends you over. His words, that admission he thinks of you. The coiled tight spring inside you snapping, as you writhe and squirm beneath him.

Unable to do anything but take him. The deep grind of his cock, as he feels the way your cunt flutters around him. The pulse of your clit beneath your touch, fingers curling up against your abdomen when it becomes too much, when all you can do it try to rock back against him.

“There you go. That’s my girl.”

His low growl filters through the white noise that buzzes in your head. Blending with the moan that pulls from you - pitching high, his name lost in your pleasure.

“Let me hear how good it feels.”

It’s bliss. The way ankles slip from his shoulders as he leans to kiss you. Hungry, as his thrusts turn shallow and sloppy.

Teeth nipping against your shoulder, your neck, as his mouth wanders - as if he can’t help it. Broad hands coming to grip at your hips, tugging you to meet him.

“Fuck, baby. Got me close already.” It’s growled against your skin, an open-mouthed kiss pressed against your throat, “Tell daddy you want it.”

It comes out desperate - a low rumble when you clench around him, legs hitching higher around his waist. Ankles crossing behind his back - driving him deep and keeping him there.

“Want you to come in me, daddy,” You echo him, sweetly. “Love feeling you inside me.”

You can feel the way he shudders, as your arms loop around his shoulders. His breath hot against your skin, strong muscles stringing tight beneath your touch.

Logan won’t admit it, but you’ve learned to read him, too.

And with the way he moans - fingers biting into your skin, as he spills himself inside you-

You’re willing to bet he liked it as much as you did.

always so weak for men calling themselves daddy, so here we are!! thank you so much for reading 💖

[slamminslamminmcgill]

aaaaaaa i need poly deadclaws smoke session 🥺😵‍💫💖 you and wade being cringy stoners ripping wade's gravity bong together and logan walks in on you sitting in his lap on the couch.

"hey, honey badger, welcome home! aw, poor baby, you look so tired! you wanna hit?"

"the fuck are you two doing?"

“it’s called a gravity bong! a hallmark of stoner engineering! would you like a demonstration?”

"no."

“too bad.” wade puts the lighter in your hands, then squeezes them for encouragement. “show him, babes, just like i taught ya.”

you spark the lighter and carefully angle it into the bowl at the top. once it's lit, you grab the inner bottle and slooowly pull it upwards out of the water. the cloud inside it grows thicker, denser, bigger. it swells with the accompanying sounds of water underneath it. glug. glug. glug.

wade explains the mechanics to logan, “now THAT, boo boo bear, is about 2-liters of toke-a-cola right there. almost as fun as when they had cocaine in the recipe.” wade sneaks his hands under your baggy lounge shirt to pinch and pull your nipples, then gives you an open-mouthed kiss on your neck. he purrs his instructions to you. “chug it, honey-cunt.”

you rip the bowl out of the bottle, the smoke billowing out through the spout, and slurp it up as you sink the bottle down into the water. of course, the torrential cloud you had built was at LEAST 2-player content. you started coughing about a third of the way down, and wade had to take over.

“i got it, i got it!” he proclaimed, valiantly chugging what was left of the cloud. he blew some out and sighed with pleasure. “now… this kind of bong gives you… gives you BIG hits. so you get stupid fast.”

you nod in agreement, a hazy, air-headed smile on your face, “it also feels REALLY good for sex…”

"well, shit, why the hell ain't you lead with that?" logan climbs over the back of the couch and sits down next to you two. "give it here. show me how you work that thing.”

also i just KNOW logan gets giggly when he smokes weed it’s a fact god told me. he’s got cigar lungs so he takes to the gravity bong with surprisingly little coughing, but FUCK it makes him STUPID!!!! he gets super touchy feely too and he’ll prolly crawl on top of both of you.

“nngh, c’mon, lemme…” he grumbles, pawing for the bong that wade holds out of reach, “lemme hit it again…”

“i think the fuck not, babe! you will wait your turn in the rotation just like everyone else, young man!”

logan blows a raspberry at him and flops over to wade’s side. “pfft… bitch…”

“yes, sir, and that’s why you love me.”

he watches longingly as wade takes his rip, until his focus shifts to your shorts riding up on your thighs.

“hey. c’mere, boy.”

he tugs you into his lap and starts making out with you, stripping you from your comfy clothes, grinding his bulge up into your folds. you whimper, under your breath, and logan smirks, teasing you in hushed tones.

“ ‘s good, right?”

“mhm…”

“you gettin’ wet now?”

“mhm!”

once wade blows his smoke out, he notices what’s going on and gasps in mock offense.

“are you two seriously excluding me right now? what am i, ugly, or somethi—? wait, don’t answer that, i—“

“yes.”

“yep. knew that was coming. can’t even blame ya. i set you up for that one. anyway!”

wade pulls you to him by your hair and smooches your cheek affectionately before putting the lighter in your hands again.

“your turn, sweetie pie!”

and by the end of that rotation everyone’s clothes are off and you’re all touching each other’s junk 😌

[wooziorgans]

hey s2 soooo i was thinking about something and i know that you are the one to do this

woozi hasn't had the opportunity to eat you out yet, you've already done a lot but as you never mentioned it he thought you didn't want to or weren't comfortable yet, so one day when you're making out and he's starting to get horny he whispers "sit on my face" and now its up to you

k byeeee

— face sitting

good god. why do you always,,,,, do this. i love ur brain but also why god why me. also sorry this took me so long,,,, we r not gonna talk abt it.

you’ve been with jihoon for a few months, and in those few months, you’ve learned more about him than you did in the years of friendship. you know that he likes to eat, and he eats well, given the pure amount of muscle on him. you know that, while he says he’s not big on skin-ship, it’s a lie. one look from you, and he’s opening his arms to cuddle.

you know he loves his friends with his entire heart, and is willing to give them as much as he can in terms of support. you know he likes to go for walks late at night when he can’t sleep, or when he wants to simply enjoy some time outside with his thoughts.

what you’ve learned has been on the complete opposite of the spectrum. you know that jihoon likes to give, but this also extends to the bedroom. he’ll spend hours working you up, teasing you and then fucking you with his fingers before finally sinking his cock into you. he has this super human ability to make you cum, and he uses it to his advantage.

you’ve learned he likes getting head, but he’d much rather fuck you. you’ve learned that he’s a sensual kisser; he lets it linger before giving you anything solid to build off of. he makes you chase his lips, teasing you endlessly when you have the time.

you’ve also learned that his frustration with his job manifests itself sexually. he’ll perfectly service dom you through multiple orgasms as a way to relieve his stress. sometimes he’ll just pull you onto his lap and kiss you stupid until you’re grinding against his thigh, desperate for something more.

you love giving him head though, but he seems to be completely indifferent towards doing the same to you. it’s a little confusing, considering how much he seems to use his tongue in other ways with you. you know he’s skilled with his mouth, that much is evident from the way he kisses and sings.

today is just one of those days where jihoon wasn’t able to burn off enough steam at the gym. he’s frustrated over a moved deadline the company gave him, now having to work twice as hard to get things done. you finished work early, and jihoon invited you over to hang out.

you can tell from the lines on his face that you’ll be doing more than just ‘hanging out’, but it’s not like you mind. jihoon pulls you into his bed, the television in his room on. you’re cushioned in between his thick thighs, wrapped safely in his arms when he starts peppering soft kisses to your neck.

it makes you shiver, hands grabbing at his arms before you decide to rotate to straddle his thighs. jihoon rests his hands on your hips, pulling you close and in for a kiss. you return it eagerly, hands finding the sides of his face.

jihoon’s hands start wandering, pushing their way under your hoodie to graze the skin of your back. his tongue slips its way into your mouth, and you moan softly. this seems to do something to jihoon, and his hand slips down to grope your ass.

you make out for god knows how long, hips moving against each others as you kiss. jihoon seems to just drink in all of the small sounds you make, hands moving around to grab and squeeze whatever he can reach.

it all comes to fruition when you stop being able to kiss him, whining into his mouth as you grind on his thigh. “fuck, sit on my face.” jihoon whispers, pulling away for a second to just watch you take what you need from him. you stop immediately, pulling back further to look at him.

“sorry, what did you say?” you blink a few times at him, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“if you don’t want to, that’s okay. you’ve never really given me anything that suggested you’d be into that.” he back tracks immediately, face reddening as he realizes he said that out loud.

“no, repeat yourself. what did you say?” your hand brushes the side of his neck and he shivers, knowing he can’t get out of this.

“um, sit on my face?” it’s a question this time. his hesitancy makes you laugh softly as you brush his hair out of his face.

“god, jihoon,” you sigh softly, already dripping at the idea of him being tongue deep inside of you. “you’re sure?” you ask, fingers threading in his hair. he hums softly.

“yeah, fuck. wanna eat you out so bad, baby.” he coos, almost condescending as his hands grab at your sweatpants. you let him pull them down, underwear going with them. you shift off his lap to kick them off and jihoon takes the opportunity to slide down the bed so he’s lying down.

with your bottom half now exposed, you straddle his lap again, arousal seeping into his own sweats. he’s painfully hard in his sweats, cock straining against the fabric. he hisses when you sink down before his hands find you ass again.

he pulls you up, and you wiggle your way up the bed until you’re over his chest. “how do you want me?” you ask, unsure of if he wants you to face him or turn the other way.

“just like this is fine.” jihoon hums, pulling you closer to his face. he starts to tease your folds with two fingers, gathering your arousal with his fingers before he pushes them inside. you’re already wet enough for them to just slide in.

you moan at the intrusion, his other hand firm on your hips to keep you from moving. jihoon fucks them in and out of you slowly, watching the way you suck his digits in. he pulls them out after a few seconds, using both hands to pull you down onto his face.

jihoon sticks his tongue out, licking a long stripe over your folds. you react immediately at the warmth and wetness of his tongue, shivering as you let out a low moan. jihoon does it again, tongue gathering your arousal to pull it into his mouth. he moans softly, already completely in love with the way you taste.

jihoon’s nose brushes against your clit, and you jerk harshly, hands finding their spot in his hair. you smooth it out, moving it out of the way. he licks another stripe up your fold, this time stiffening his tongue to go deeper. his lips latch around your clit, suctioning to it and flicking his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

jihoon focuses his attention on your clit, alternating different kinds of suction and patterns with his tongue to figure out what works. he brings his hand back up to your ass, kneading the skin softly before he pushes two fingers back inside of you.

it’s too much, all at once. the small noises he makes as he eats you out, the lewd, wet noises coming from his mouth, and his fingers pressing into your spot send you over the edge. you tighten your grip in his hair, head leaning against the headboard as you gasp out a warning.

jihoon keeps his pace steady on your clit as you cum, before he pulls his fingers out and laps at your release. it drips down his chin, but he can’t stop, even after you start to squirm in overstimulation.

you lift your hips up off his face before shifting to lay down beside him. jihoon pulls you into a kiss, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. you whine into his mouth, hands grabbing at his cock through the fabric of his sweats.

jihoon pulls away, “give yourself a minute to breathe, love.” he coos. you nod, pushing your head against his chest. he strokes your hair softly, massaging your scalp. your hands still push their way under his sweats and into his boxers.

jihoon hisses softly. “you’re insatiable.” he moans, a breathy laugh falling from his lips.

“you started it.” you murmur, craning your head up to kiss his neck. maybe he did. either way, it’s gonna be a long night. especially with what you’ve just learned about your boyfriend.

[grandline-fics]

All That I Need

DESCRIPTION: When your presence is all they crave

WARNINGS: some suggestive themes, some jealousy in Shanks’ mostly fluff overall

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro, Shanks| Sabo,Sanji

WORD COUNT: 1,413

A/N: Finally starting to feel better so I decided to finish this. Mostly indulgent and I hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

—————

LUFFY

Long before you and Luffy even got together you knew he was solely motivated by his wants, childishly so. He saw a platter of food meant for everyone? He’d eat it all before anyone else got a chance to grab a fork. Someone tried to tell him he was too weak to beat them? Luffy had the first punch thrown before they could blink. If he wanted something he was vocal about it. It was a simplistic way to be and at least you and the crew always knew how to keep your Captain happy. There was never any guessing, even when he was unconscious.

Of course once again he’d pushed his body to the limit to win a fight and now he was dealing with the consequences. Chopper had tended to his wounds and you approached his now sleeping form with a tired but proud smile. You were used to this but still you couldn’t help but worry about the strain his body was being put through time and time again. “You know once he wakes, he’ll be shouting for meat and jumping around like nothing happened.” Nami muttered like a disapproving mother as she left and you let out a small laugh. 

Now close enough you lightly pushed the hair from his face, smiling to see that the mention of meat had made him grin in his sleep. Your worries all but left you now to see that. As long as he could smile, you would find the strength to do so too. You pulled your hand back and turned to leave the room, letting your significant -but reckless- other rest. Except you stopped when his hand clasped around your wrist. You turned in shock, he was awake already?

Your eyes widened to see that he was still unconscious. You were about to call for Chopper but all that could escape your lips was a gasp of surprise when you were abruptly pulled down onto the bed. Through muscle memory or pure instinct, Luffy lay with his arms around you the perfect balance of protectiveness and possessiveness in his hold. It was like this every night you both slept in your shared quarters. When his head lay against your chest while mumbling your name in in his sleep you smiled warmly, overcome with a sense of belonging and joy to know that you will always be something Luffy needed.

ZORO

Zoro was frustrated; his form was too tense, nothing was landing the way he wanted, the way he needed to. If he was to get stronger, to become the best this wasn’t good enough. If he was in an actual fight and not training he’d be losing. Angrily he swore and let his weights fall loudly onto the floor. Storming out of the Crow’s Nest he sought the one thing he desperately needed to make this frustration and tension go away. Listening intently he heard your familiar laugh sound from the kitchen and dining room. Striding in he saw you listening to Usopp telling a story of the crew’s adventures from the early days before you’d joined. 

Just seeing you help Usopp cleaning up was enough to help his mood but still it wasn’t enough. He needed more, he craved you. Your warmth, your very essence and it was now he realised why he had felt so off. He hadn’t gotten enough of you today. With the watch rotations from the night before, usual morning chores, and then when Robin and Chopper had called you away to help them with their nonsense it had disrupted your usual time together completely. Now that he knew what his issue was, the solution was so simple. Wasting no more time he walked across the room with you in his sights. 

You’d blinked in confusion when Usopp trailed off in the middle of his story and looked behind your shoulder. Slowly you turned and smiled at Zoro, believing he’d only stop his training midway through for food or an equally important emergency. “Hey, is everything okay? Do you need something?” 

“Yeah. You.” Zoro stated firmly when he closed the distance. Before you could react, your boyfriend had his hands secured to your waist and pulled you forward so his lips could find yours, coaxing you into an increasingly hungry, intense kiss. Zoro savoured every moment of it, taking in every second and reclaiming the time he’d lost out on just being with you. As dizzying and as powerful the kiss was you could feel the shift in your lover; as subtle as it was you could tell he had been holding onto something that was making him more tense than normal. If this was what fixed it you weren’t complaining. When you finally pulled away to catch your breath, Zoro let out a huff of relief. 

Now energised and focussed, Zoro threw you over his shoulder allowing himself a smirk when you yelped at the sudden action. Knowing it was pointless to even pretend like you wanted to struggle out of his hold you enjoyed the luxury of Zoro carrying you out of the kitchen and up to the Crows Nest so he could finish his training. Whether you remained on his shoulder or just sitting to the side and watching it didn’t matter to Zoro. As long as he had you in his vicinity, one of his main motivations for getting stronger that was all that mattered.  

SHANKS

“If you think you’re looking cool and brooding over here, I hate to break it to you Captain you look more like you’re sulking.” Beckman laughed from behind his mug of ale. Shank clicked his tongue in annoyance and took a slow sip of his own drink, watching as you talked and laughed with the new recruits of the crew. You’d all decided to stay the night at one of the islands under your protection. The first time for the new recruits to get to terms with how the Red Haired Pirates did things beyond just sailing the seas. It also gave everyone a chance to unwind and enjoy some shore leave. 

It was only natural that the new crew members would gravitate towards you, after all you were the go-between for them. You were the one they asked for help with things to avoid disappointing or angering their intimidating but inspiring Captain. They were still finding their place in the crew with the longer standing members and you’d promised them all it would take time and that they’d all been welcomed onto the crew for a reason. Still they all felt the most comfortable with you so far. Unfortunately your lover and Captain didn’t want to see it that way. He was jealous of them claiming your attention all the time and he missed you even though you hadn’t gone anywhere.   

Shanks’ eyes met yours when you looked over to check on him. He tried to keep his expression level but clearly it wasn’t convincing enough because you swiftly but politely excused yourself from the group you were with and stepped up to where your Captain was sitting. Slowly you turned your head towards Beckman and jerked your head. A silent request for him to leave you both alone. As much as he’d love to stay and watch you expertly handle the Pirate Emperor he knew to give you both some sort of privacy and left. 

With a tired sigh you slid into Shanks’ lap, throwing your legs over his and tucking your head under his chin. Wordlessly you took his mug of ale from his hand and coaxed his arm around your waist. “This is what you wanted right? Me all to yourself.” You asked with a smile before taking a sip of the ale. You knew Shanks better than most, he wouldn’t offer an explanation for his mood unless you started the conversation. His arm tightened around you and he chuckled softly. 

“Can you blame me? Your very presence is utterly intoxicating to me. Why would I want to share my treasure with anyone?” Shanks asked and you rolled your eyes at his words with a small smile. You did want to remind him that he had nothing to be jealous about, everyone knew you were an item but still it was cute to have him still be like this after so many years together. “I mean it you know. I can’t get enough of you, need you more than breathing.”

[captain-marble]

silly thought that i’ve been rotating at might write someday (although knowing me…)

anyways!

someone gets mad and pranks the justice league by releasing clips of their embarrassing moments on tower (nothing that could reveal identities but still embarrassing)

it’s stuff like marvel failing at cooking

batman being sleep deprived and trying to parent different league members (namely marvel)

flash running into walls and things (a lot)

superman being afraid of a shoe and litterally leaping into the air to get away from it. (it was green)

anyways everyone find this hillarious and the members are a lil mortified. But fawcett takes it into their own hands to give marvel food (litterally he has too much food to know what to do with) to the point he ends up like going around sharing it with the homeless kids and stuff

not only that but the league decide to take it into their own hands to teach marvel. cut to videos being released of marvel learning to cook with different leaguers

superman: marv can you pass me a rolling pin? so what you’ve got to do is-

marvel looking at a pot of utensils questioning…. before tentatively holding out a masher: ?

superman: (blinks)

supes probably teaches him how to make apple pie and talk about how if you don’t use the sugar you can use the pie crust to make savoury pies too and blah blah life hack. his parents probably mean he’s the worst offender for trying to shove food or recipes onto marvel

hal and barry prolly teach him how to make like single guy with a shitty job type grind shit that’s like carb loaded and you can just bulk make and store ands got everything you need (cuz they always busy as hell and ain’t rich or anything so don’t got the time or stuff to make tons of food) (it kinda looks like struggle food but yk it gets them through)

hal: so yeah you just dump everything in and if it starts to look radioactive then you know it’s cooked-

billy ‘orphan street rat will eat anything’ batson: damn bitch you live like this? /silly

diana teaches him a greek dish from her childhood that she thinks marvel would feel nostalgic for (i mean billy doesn’t but he remembers eating it in past lives and the thought diana put into it really comforts him)

bruce either a) refuses to teach marvel anything as he himself cannot cook and won’t let the work know that (as all of these cooking videos have been being leaked to the internet who are EATING IT UP like it’s not just fawcett anymore everyone loves cap now becuase you can tell he’s just that authentic cuz his ass does not know these are being filmed) b) cannot cook so it ends up just being a hot mess c) they learn to make a new recipe together d) he has alfred teach him how to make something so he doesn’t embarrass himself e) he teaches marvel how to make struggle food that’s worse than hal and barry’s

marvel: aren’t you funded by a billionaire?

batman: hm

marvel: batman….damn bitch you live like this???????????

everyone just dogs on batman online for like banging bruce wayne (no one believes that the butts match :/ ) and yet still being ass at cooking, like bro is at nuclear levels of damn you live like this with his struggle food

anyways cap finds out about the cooking with cap vids and immediately gets all embarrassed that people know he sucks at cooking, fawcett lay off a little on giving him food now they know that the JL are helping him, but he regularly receives copies of old cook books and someone’s nans favourite recipe and stuff and he’s taking home enough food from the JL to actually eat well and is therefore a lot happier and so the JL are like wow marv really likes cooking, and so at least like once a week (usually more) someone (or sometimes just he will) will cook with him and he’ll take home the left overs (if people eat any otherwise he just takes it all himself (despite him frantically offering the food out to people cuz he feels bad for taking so much))

years later when the identity reveal happens they’re like wow??? this makes so much sense???? i’m so glad we’ve been inadvertently feeding the homeless child??? yippee for him not starving and being more healthy that he would’ve been????

but yeah it’s so silly and i think billy would actually love having the chance to eat foods he’s never had before, especially where he spent so long on the streets that he kinda was forced to like ration and buy cheap food, so like he’s being treated by trying new foods and risking not liking it and stuff

but yeah i just think cap cooking and baking is neat teehee

[roronoaswifey]

BABY DADDY ZORO BABY DADDY ZORO BABY DADDY ZORO.

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍��𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

ೃ⁀➷cw. sexual content, mentions of substance consumption, foul language, slight infidelity, both reader and zoro got their names tatted on them, y’all got a baby girl, this isn’t a smutty as i has planned for it to be ngl

ೃ⁀➷zuha’s note. forever pushing lora’s zoro and his bruk ass pickup truck agenda .

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, despite knowing you called things off with him weeks prior to finding out about your pregnancy, still knows absolutely no boundaries when it comes to you and his four year old daughter. shows up to your place on unexpected days, talking bout “wanted to see my babygirl, ‘s there an issue?”, crashes overnight on the couch because “the truck’s engine’s busted” or “‘s too dark outside and i left my glasses back home”. it’s terrible habits but he seems to always convince you to let him stay by the grin on your daughter’s chubby cheeks whenever she smells the scent of pancakes, eggs and bacon in the air with her favorite side of fresh fruit.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who always shows up to your daughter’s school events no matter the circumstance. he got work? somebody’ll take cover for his shift. truck broke down? nothin’ an uber won’t fix. he may arrive slightly late due to directional challenges, but he will still always show up. dressed in loose grey sweatpants with a white fitted tee and gold chain, he spots you dressed as classily as ever (bougie, he loved to call you) and notices your birkin bag saving a seat for him. he squeezes through the row and ignores the thirsty looks he receives, all in favour of sitting at your side, arm wrapped behind the seat of your chair and kisses your temple when you lean into his embrace.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who swings by every weekend to pick up his daughter for his turn of the rotation. if you ask him, he’d rather just stay over for the weekend and spend it with y’all three but he’s aware of your personal life outside of both him and your daughter, and complications (like whoever the fuck dropped you home that one friday night and gave you a cheek kiss when you’d asked him to stay a few hours with his baby) that can interfere in y’all’s relationship.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, on the occasions you let him spend the night over, always makes it up to you. it’s always the same routine—you tell him to crash on the couch and leave as soon as the rise of dawn awakens and yet he always ends up in the warmth of your bed, one leg propped up with two hands on your hips and fucks into you with precision. the sinful arch of your back and your whines as you beg him for more drive him insane, makes him miss you so much more than he’s willing to admit. though for now, he’s content in showing you how much he longs for you through plunging his dick deep in your guts and silencing your moans with his tongue down your throat (to his dismay, you make him pull out and finish on your back).

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who loves to spoil you and his baby. doesn’t have the highest paying income but no matter his salary, he’d be more than willing to spend 50% of it on the both of you. anything his daughter wants, she gets. he knows you can good and well afford for the both of you but he feels it’s his job to make sure you both live a soft life. no matter the reason—job promotion, birthdays, anniversaries, just for the fun of it— he’ll always want to gift you. he isn’t the best with words but he genuinely thanks the heavens that such a wonderful woman was able to bless him the greatest of gifts.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who freezes in shock the very first time his daughter asks him if he’s still in love with you. he forgets she was blessed with your intelligence, but such a pretty and chubby face smothered in chocolate syrup from her ice cream sundae on their weekly hangouts asking him if he still loves mommy the same way her classmate’s parents love each other makes him realize that these habits between you and him may badly affect y’all’s kid’s future. still, he sighs melancholy and lightly flicks her nose that scrunches up adorably, and while she huffs childishly a “papa!”, he tells himself he’s in long due of a conversation with you. “i do, princess, more than you could imagine.” he answers, though he isn’t sure if she heard him as she quickly stuffs her mouth full of the sugary dessert once more.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, for the first time in years, decides to actively start dating again. he quickly regrets his decision when he’s on a dinner date, faintly listening to some broad babble about whatever it is she’s talking about but realizing he genuinely cannot see this girl— or any other girl—in his distant future. he’s too busy thinking about the slight twitch in your eye when he’d let you know he would be on a date and may arrive later to pick up his baby. you asked him where he met said girl, and he honestly told you his work friend had set him up on a date. you wished him good luck and to not spare any details when he comes back, but he felt the strain in your fake smile. you’re too easy to read, he decided a while ago, or maybe he’s mastered the art of your deception. regardless, he regrets going on this date and regrets even further when he lets her blow him off in his truck, especially since he never got to finish his load before dropping her off home.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who still invites you and his baby over to his parents’ place whenever there’s any family cookout. terra loves you and her granddaughter, always bombarding zoro with questions whenever he goes to visit. she showers you and her granddaughter with so much love, calls you her daughter despite you and zoro having broken up years ago. she checks on you occasionally, lets you know you’re always welcomed in her home despite everything. she spoils her only granddaughter with gifts and treats and love, takes her on walks and offers to even let her sleepover at her place for the weekends. zoro takes note of that offer, especially since y’all’s anniversary is approaching round the corner.

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who brings you to the very first restaurant y’all had y’all first date at, years ago. on the roof patio of the five star restaurant, at the same table, he sees how your eyes sparkle in admiration at his efforts to recreate one of y’all’s most memorable moments in your past relationship. he’s dressed in the fanciest button up and slacks with dress shoes he owns, brings you bouquets of your favorite flowers and as always, pays for your meal. the date goes smoothly, as does most things you guys do, and he walks you back to his truck, hand in hand with the moonlight bouncing off the irises of your eyes. you catch him staring and he’s swears he’s fallen so deeply in love with you— or maybe he never truly stopped. it’s a scary but thrilling feeling, and from the heat rising on your cheeks and your shy gaze, he knows you feel the same. he can’t help but cup your face with one big hand and capture your lips in a sensual kiss, smiling when he feels you melt in his hold. you pull away shyly, nuzzling your nose into his and zoro swears on his mom he would run across the globe back and forth on a leg, go to hell and back, just to have you back in his graces.

needed to get this out of my drafts 🗿.

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main part 6

Masterpost

This town is weird. Jason knows he shouldn’t be one to judge, considering Gotham and his own attachment to it. But this place is like a nightmare, stuck in time backwards-ness intermingled between the people and the place itself. It reminds him of Fawcett, which is not a good thing. He feels judged just walking down the street.

The head into a diner looking restaurant, fast food by the looks of it, that is in fact named Nasty Burger. Jason knows he shouldn’t judge. He’s doing it anyway.

There’s a girl behind the counter who seems to be glaring at Jason. Or Danny, but since he’s Jason right now, he decides he doesn’t need to deal with whatever her issue is. With little faith, Jason tells Jazz to order for him and goes to sit in a booth. 

The couple in the booth next to him watch him as he heads to his booth and gape at him as he sits down.

“Danny, come on.” The guy whines, he and the girl both stand and come over to sit across from him. “What was that? Don’t want to sit with us?”

 Jason tenses. “Uh.” 

“Hey guys!” Jazz says, coming to sit next to Jason. She places a tray with a burger, fries, and a soft drink in front of him and he eyes it warily. “This is Jason.”

They two across from them get these stupid dumbfounded looks. The girl behind the counter is listening to their conversation.

“Jason, these are Danny’s friends, Sam and Tucker.” Jazz motions to the girl and then the boy.

“Nice to meet you.” Jason inclines his head at them, and decides to try a fry.

“Is he…” Sam stops herself. “Does he know about Danny?”

“Not much, but they haven’t officially met yet, obviously.” Jazz is eating her food like it’s normal, so Jason follows her lead on the burger as well. “Danny should be here sometime tomorrow.”

“Where is Danny now?” Tucker asks, concerned.

“With my family.” Sam and Tucker look at him strangely. He can tell they’re concerned for their friend though. “He’s being driven back now, they’re rotating drivers so they don’t have to stop for the night. He’ll be here as soon as he can.” 

“Danny will be fine until he gets back.” Jazz comforts them. “Danny was more concerned about Jason, considering the food at our house.”

Sam and Tucker tense in response. “Right. I’d be worried about that too. Might want to stay at the house after this anyway.” Sam says lightly. Jason can tell he’s being talked around. Can hear them talking about something they don’t want him to know under the guise of their conversation, but he doesn’t know enough to make sense of it. 

“Let us know if anything comes up of course, but Danny won’t be able to hang out for a while.” Jazz smiles at them, but her eyes are concerned.

“Sure thing.” Tucker says. 

“If you guys want to have a chat where you can actually talk to each other, I can leave you along for a bit.” Jason tells them all. 

“No!” Tucker says quickly. They don't seem like they care that he caught on, there's no shame to be excluding him. They all just seem worried about something. “Best you stay with Jazz.” He turns back to her. “The GIW tools were deactivated. The whole fiasco yesterday was a lot for everyone. But they should be up and running again by tomorrow.”

Jazz nods at them and Sam and Tucker leave, whisper-arguing to each other as they go.

They eat quietly for a minute, but Jazz stiffens as she looks at something out the window.

Jason follows her gaze to see her tracking a man outside. He’s pretty smarmy looking. Long grey hair, in a full suit, seems like more Brucie’s crowd than someone who would be in a place called Nasty Burger. But he’s spotted them through the window and does seem to be on his way in. ““Hey Jason, would it be cool if you went to the bathroom for a second? Nevermind, there’s no time, follow my lead.”

The man walks right up to their booth.

“Daniel, Jasmine, lovely to see you both.”

“Vlad, can we help you?” Jazz asks politely, Jason just glares at them man.

“You know I always love to see you, but I would like to speak with Daniel for a moment.”

“Unfortunately, Danny and I have places to be, Vlad. I’m sure my parents would love to speak with you though. Dad has been meaning to stop by.” Jazz gathers the trash and remnants of their meal and stands, going to throw them away. Jason gets up to follow her, but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He feels a tickle in his throat and his next breath comes out cold and foggy, visible in the air. 

“Daniel, don’t you want to have a talk?” The hand on his shoulder is forceful.

“Don’t touch me.” Jason turns himself out of his grasp, backing away towards the door. Jazz pulls him quickly back onto the street towards home.

“Who the hell was that guy?”

“Danny’s godfather, friend of our parents. They went to college together.”

They’re walking past an alley when Jason feels that tickle again, he stops as his breath comes out cold, then something rams into him, pushing him to the ground farther in the alley.

[teapartyprincess4two]

your writing is sooo good! i NEED a johnnie smut omg please write one💞

Monster- J. Guilbert

pairing: Extrovert!reader x Shy!Johnnie

classification: SMUT w/ a plot

inspiration: request^^, Monster by Lady Gaga

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, use of y/n, dom!Johnnie (kinda), “slut,” alcohol use, slight cursing, Jake and Tara are dating in this

summary: Tara plays matchmaker, earning Johnnie the night of his life with you in a bar restroom.

—

Johnnie’s been watching you all night, but he’s waiting for the alcohol to settle into his bloodstream before he finally walks up to you. You sit at the bar in a black, backless dress that allows a few of your tattoos to peak through. Bouncy curls are swept onto your shoulder, framing one side of your face as you chat with the bartender.

“Gonna keep staring or are you finally gonna make a move?” Jake nudges Johnnie’s shoulder.

Nights out like this are common for the pair, especially when living a fast paced life in the city of Los Angeles. When they’re not filming or editing, they’re usually out getting drunk, and they’ve managed to creat regular rotation of bars.

Today they find themselves at the Magic 8 Ball, the least crowded bar in L.A on a Friday night. No matter what unfamiliar faces that fill this place, though, yours is always constant. Every Friday, without fail, you saunter in and take a seat at the bar.

Johnnie can tell, just from watching you, that you’re an extrovert. You never seem to stay at the bar, you always wander onto the dance floor and lure a random stranger in for a quick bop around the room.

That’s what intimidates him, because as an introvert he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep up.

“I’m not staring,” Johnnie quips quickly, taking a swig of whatever alcoholic mixture swirls in his glass. He hisses as the liquid goes down.

If it were just Jake and Johnnie, the conversation would’ve died there. But tonight Tara joined them and she isn’t so adamant on letting the topic go.

“You should invite her to sit with us! You never know what could happen,” she prods teasing fingers into Johnnie’s sides, “plus she looks nice! I need a girlfriend to hang out with!”

“Johnnie needs a girlfriend, Tara. Not you,” Jake jokes. Johnnie rolls is eyes, scooting away from Tara as her fingers continue digging into his sides.

“I’ve had a girlfriend,” Johnnie replies, eyes darting back to where you sit at the bar.

“Yeah, had,” Jake says.

“It’s just hard to—“

“ALRIGHT! Enough!” Tara interrupts Johnnie mid sentence, slamming her hands onto the table as she stands up. “If you won’t make a move, I will,” she says, shimmying out of the booth.

Johnnie’s eyes are blown open in shock. He tries grabbing Tara before she can get too far, but she’s small and sneaky.

“That’s one way to do it,” Jake laughs, watching in amusement as his girlfriend does what his best friend doesn’t have the balls to do.

Johnnie, on the other hand, watches in horror.

There you are, sipping on your drink and chatting with the bartender, blissfully unaware of Tara’s approaching figure.

Tara sits at the bar, taking the seat directly next to yours. She interrupts your conversation with the bartender to order two drinks, one for you and one for her, before swiftly turning her attention to you with a warm smile.

Johnnie can’t bear to watch, but he also can’t look away.

You seem to like Tara, because you’re quick to engage in conversation with her. In the matter of seconds Tara has managed to learn your name, your favorite drink, and even your favorite song (it’s the one that plays over the club speakers).

“Oh God they’re coming,” Johnnie whisper shouts, trying to look casual. Tara’s arm is looped with yours as she leads you to their table, an accomplished look painting her face.

“What the fuck do I do? What the fuck do I do?! Fuck!”

“Just act casual. Don’t be weird— Oh fuck! Just shut up!” for some reason Jake finds himself just as nervous as Johnnie. Maybe he was just being empathetic, but they both scramble to get themselves together.

“Don’t be weird? What the fuck does that—”

Johnnie can’t seem to catch a break, because as soon as Tara reaches the booth she’s interrupting him. “Guys. This is Y/n, my new friend,” she gestures towards you, “Y/n, this is my boyfriend Jake and this is our friend Johnnie.”

The moment Tara says your name it’s engraved in Johnnie’s mind. He’s already in love.

Your smile is so big it could light up the room. You extend a hand to the two, immediately introducing yourself and falling into the booth next to Johnnie.

His heart is pounding and his ears are red hot with embarrassment.

“Well, while you two get acquainted, Jake and I are gonna go get drunk,” Tara says, pulling Jake out of the booth before he can get any more comfortable than he already is. She shoots Johnnie a wink before sending you a small wave, leading a confused Jake into the crowd of people.

“She’s nice. I like her,” you comment, watching until the couple disappears. “She’s… something,” Johnnie coughs, he’s so unbelievably awkward.

You chuckle, mostly because you think he’s cute and you find his fiddly personality amusing.

“Johnnie, huh? I had a friend named Johnnie once,” you say, attempting to make conversation. Your manicured nails tap against you glass cup, silver hoop earrings reflecting the strobing lights as you try catching his gaze.

“Bet he didn’t look like this though,” Johnnie replies, clearly referring to his all black attire.

“Hmmm, no. He definitely didn’t,” you giggle. You take a sip from your drink, a lipstick stain remaining once you place the cup back onto the table. Johnnie wonders what it’d feel like to kiss you.

“You’re much cuter,” you continue. Johnnie can’t tell if he’s dreaming, were you actually flirting with him?

Maybe it’s the surge of confidence your compliment gives him, or maybe the alcohol finally kicked in, but Johnnie suddenly finds himself being flirtatious.

“So do you flirt with all the Johnnies you know?”

He’s surprised at how fast you quip back, “Nope. Just the cute ones.”

You’ve subconsciously leaned closer to him, your faces dangerously close.

“Okay, so we’ve established that I’m cute,” he smirks. “What else am I?”

You giggle, a sound that Johnnie swears he can listen to for forever.

“Well clearly you’re not shy anymore,” your finger traces the rim of your drink. A drunk smile and sultry eyes lure him in, pulling him close enough for his lip rings to press against your skin.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, a wandering hand finding your thigh. You shiver at the sensation. His fingers were ice cold, but they still managed to ignite a fire deep within your core.

“Like this?” you tease, batting your eyelashes.

You never made it a habit of sleeping with strangers, but Johnnie was the sheep in wolves clothing that played innocent until you were close enough to bite.

“I warned you,” his breath fans against your lips one last time before he’s capturing your lips in a heated kiss. It’s the first kiss Johnnie’s had in years which makes it that much more exciting.

Your plump lips chase his as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. The club is loud, but you’re so immersed in the man in front of you that you forget you’re not the only two people in the room and lose all control.

Johnnie’s hands find your waist, tugging until you’re straddling his lap. He pulls away breathlessly, silently thanking Tara for working her magic once he sees you on top of him.

Your dress rides up slightly, revealing more of your backside than you’d like. The sight earns you a few whistles from bystanders, breaking you from your lustful daze. “Oh shit,” you squeak, trying to scramble off of Johnnie, but his grip is firm enough to keep you in place.

An animalistic, monster-like need has overtaken him and he’s willing to sacrifice his self image to fuck you in front of all these strangers. But he simultaneously doesn’t want anyone else to see you, to enjoy you, the way he’s about to.

“Restroom. Now,” he growls, pinching the soft skin of your ass. You squeal in excitement, allowing the desires of your flesh to cloud your judgement as you hop off of him and wiggle your way out of the booth. You adjust your dress as you wait for Johnnie to follow before taking his hand in yours and leading him towards the restroom. He makes a mental note to let this be the only time you lead him tonight.

Everyone’s watching, yet you can’t find it in you to feel embarrassed. If anything it excites you more.

You find the restroom quickly, a wave of gratitude washing over you when you realize it’s a single stall. This means you can be as loud as you want, and from the look in Johnnie’s eyes, you can tell you’ll also need the extra room.

He’s quick to lock the door and immediately engulfs your face in his hands, bringing you in for the second heated kiss of the night. Johnnie’s eager and it shows in the way he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip.

His left hand remains on your face while the other travels down to your ass, squeezing firmly against the material of your dress. A moan escapes your lips, providing him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes surprisingly sweet, like pomegranate and pineapple.

He leads you to the sink counter, your bodies bouncing back slightly when they hit the cold marble. “Up,” he commands.

You hop onto the counter, giving him enough room to fit between your legs. Johnnie’s erection presses against your inner thigh, but he gives you no time to comment on it before his lips are back on yours.

Johnnie’s hand’s find your boobs, massaging your mounds slowly as he deepens the kiss. “More,” you murmur against the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in closer to you. He smirks against your mouth at your neediness.

“So needy.” He pulls your head back, providing him with perfect access to your neck. Sloppy, open mouth kisses trail from your jawline down to your exposed collarbone. Each one gives you goosebumps.

“Fuck me please,” you whimper, feeling your panties become more soaked by the second. “So polite,” he teases, sucking on your skin until it bruises.

The rough material of his jeans comes in contact with your clothed pussy. He dry humps you just to hear the strained moans that escape your lips.

Finally, when you rut back, he decides he’s teased you enough. Your dress is bunched up around your waist, exposing the wet underwear that he pushes to the side.

“So fucking sexy,” he grunts, kneeling in front of you to get a better view. He’s in love. What he wants to do is eat you out, but there’s no time for that in a club as crowded as this. Especially not when there’s only one restroom.

You watch in awe as he presses a quick kiss on your bundle of nerves, immediately licking his lips right after. “Yummy,” he chuckles, bringing you in for another hungry kiss.

Your hands find his belt, unbuckling it with fervor and tugging at his belt loop to bring him back in to you. He gets the message and helps you in unbuttoning his skin-tight jeans. Your forehead is flush against his as you watch his dick spring up, it bobs back and forth as you take in the sheer size.

“Holy fuck,” your voice is full of exasperation. How was that meant to fit inside of you?

Maybe it’s because he hasn’t done this in a long time, but Johnnie suddenly feels self conscious. He hides his face in your neck before you can notice how red it becomes, but you’re quick to push his shoulders back.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. Where’d that monster go?” you place a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. His dick twitches and cries precum at the reassurance.

He pulls you back in for a kiss, feeling confident once again. He lines himself up tentatively with your entrance, rubbing the tip along your folds before slowly pushing himself in.

Your eyes are screwed shut, small tears forming at the corners as you struggle to adjust to the stretch. “Fuck Johnnie, wait,” you say, pushing against his stomach slightly. Suddenly you’re not sure you want him to fuck you dumb, his size alone was enough to have you seeing stars.

Your words fall on deaf ears, though, and before you know it he’s pushed himself all the way in. You gasp, throwing your head back against the bathroom mirror. Your pussy clenches around him as you try to hold him in place knowing the longer you keep him there, the more time you’ll have to adjust.

It’s no use though, because he begins thrusting into you at a relentless, unforgiving pace. The pain is quickly replaced with pleasure, the tip of his penis kissing your cervix every time his hips slam into yours.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he grunts, strong hands gripping your waist so he can fuck into you even faster. You whimper at the sensation, his fingers were sure to leave bruises.

“Just like that, Johnnie. So good,” you egg him on, holding onto his neck for support. He hasn’t slowed his pace, instead moving one hand from your hips down to your throbbing clit.

Your legs instinctively push together, but his body moves them back into their previous position as he continues. “Such a slut,” he purrs, watching the euphoric look that paints your face when he rubs his thumb against your sensitive nub.

“Yes! Such a slut,” you’re drunk on dick, babbling whatever will get you closer to your pending release.

“My slut?” he asks, using the hand that was previously gripping your waist to take a firm hold of your face. Your eyes lock with his, taking notice of the way lust clouds his pupils. “All yours,” you whisper.

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you. Your tongues collide in a heated mixture of moans and whimpers. All the while he continues pounding into you and rubbing circles on your clit.

One particularly hard thrust has you dumb, a string of curse words and chants of his name being the only thing you can manage to say. “C’mon baby, c’mon,” he growls, sloppily kissing you as he feels his climax approaching.

“Johnnie!”

Your walls flutter around him, your entire body trembling as your orgasm washes over you.

Your hair falls in front of your face and you find yourself holding Johnnie’s wrist, pushing his hand away as it continues working on your clit. “Almost there,” he moans, pulling his hand away to focus his attention on fucking you.

You’re sensitive. You’re whimpering. You’re so fucked out that it’s overstimulating.

“Cum for me, handsome,” you moan, still coming down from your own high. He continues rutting his hips into you, chasing his release until finally it washes over him.

Hot spurts of cum paint your insides, lazy hips rolling against you. He’s panting from above you, hands falling from your body and latching onto the counter for support.

“Fuck that was… that was amazing,” Johnnie says, pulling out of you reluctantly.

He knows the sooner he pulls out and you two get dressed, the quicker you’ll become strangers. And that’s terrifying.

“You were amazing,” you reply, using your finger to pull his pensive gaze back towards you by his chin.

“Don’t tell me it’s a one and done,” you pout, “I was hoping to have more moments like that.”

Johnnie still stands between your legs, his limp dick resting on your exposed thighs. He lights up at your suggestion. His hands have opted for a much softer hold on your hips, thumbs massaging your skin. He knows he was rough, but he couldn’t help it.

“I mean— I’d like to— we could— fuck I’m so bad at this,” he stutters, suddenly reverting back to his natural, awkward state.

“You’re cute,” you giggle, pecking his nose and hopping off the counter. His ears flush red again.

“How about we get cleaned up and then we’ll worry about the rest later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” a big goofy smile adorns his face. His rosy cheeks make you wanna pinch him and gush over how cute he looks.

“Weren’t you just fucking my brains out a second ago?” you tease, only making him more flustered.

“I’m shy, I can’t help it.”

“Not that shy apparently,” you pull him in for one more kiss.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: Tara the goat, the best wingwoman ever!

I locked in. Thank you for ur kind words bby, I LUV U!

Enjoy 🎱😜 - L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

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[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

CLAY BERESFORD has to sit down when he gets too exhilarated. When life moves too fast, his heart can’t take it. Breath quickens, eyes haze. He used to power through it, and that’d only make it worse. Now he’s learned the signs, knows to catch it early. The first time you’d kissed him, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stand. A flock of butterflies inhabited his insides, frenzying in a flurry whenever he’d remember what it felt like to touch your lips on his. At that point, he’d believed his heart condition was common knowledge. His mother, his associates, his friends, all constantly brought it up. But you, you were genuinely caught off guard, catching him tenderly ‘round the arm when he’d shown signs of fatigue. Gentle as you could be, you softened the impact to his seat when his legs gave out.

“It, uh, it’s fine. I’ll be fine,” he had rambled, fishing out his meds from his pocket. His trembling hands struggled against the top, but you were there to loosen it for him. You had sat with him until he was ready. He’d never thought hovering around him could be so romantic, especially since he’s not one to care for smothering.

Now, it’s marginally manageable. That thrill he avoids occasionally hits him at the peak of love-making. You can read him, you can see the signals clearly written on him. In the ways he tips his head back, mouth agape to take in more oxygen, how his eyes glaze over, and his grip loosens. There’s less of his attention to go around. You can hear the strain in his grunts; there’s a stutter in his hips, he’s pushing himself too hard while he pushes himself inside you.

“Clay,” you warn, “slow down. It’s happening again.” Your claws brace against his rotator cuff, directing him to back up which he ignores. His body continues to roll, his tip brushing that spongy spot inside you. Regardless if it feels good, if the sheen of sweat on your skin is a result of ardently chasing your lusts, you can’t let him do this to himself again.

“No, no,” he objects, “I can do it this time. I can do it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, crying out over how he hardens his pace instead of receding it. It weakens your muscle in fighting him off. If you can just sever the connection, he’ll remember, he’ll calm down and take a breather. “Clay!”

But you can’t fend him off.

His forehead drops to your shoulder, alerting you to open your eyes. You don’t bother noticing anything else. “Clay? Clay? Are you alright? Talk to me,” Newfound strength floods you, rolling him over to straddle him, his arm thrown haphazardly above his head. His heavy lidded gaze flutters as you pat at his face. “Baby? Speak to me, can you hear me?”

He hums. A low, gravely drawl as his hands venture to your hips. “Baby,” he drags out each of these word, “Fuck… baby, so good.” The air in his chest rapidly falls, panting. You know this isn’t right, yet he makes decisions for you, digging his fingers into the plush of your flesh as he moves you back and forth. His cock fully seated inside you while it brushes your insides.

“Wait, but you’re—“ you protest, but it’s unconvincing. There’s few things you enjoy more than sitting on every inch of his length, the new angle granting you electric shocks up your spine with each rock.

“Feeling so good, my love. Better than I ever have. Better than I ever will.” his sweet words mean the world to you, his soft smile adorning his handsome features as he peeks slyly at you through the narrow sliver of his lids. “Don’t make me stop. Please? I don’t wanna stop.” How can you refuse him?

You figure it’s less pressure on him to be underneath you; you feel more secure in riding him like this. So you move his hands up, allowing them to handle your torso while you do the work. He sits back, and looks pretty for you, while you use him up.

[fatkish]

Breeder Bakugou x Puppy Hybrid Reader

Breeder Bakugou loves his cute little puppy hybrid. You’re his dumb little pup. You’re a real lap dog and as much as he denies it, he loves sitting you on his lap and making you cream yourself. He loves the way your tail wags whenever you cum and whenever you see him. He can be rough and spank your ass and your tail will wag as you moan and whimper. He loves the way your tight little hole squeezes him and milks him. He has you well trained. At night, he sleeps with himself buried in your puppy cunt. Or puppy bussy.

He’s got you trained to wake him up by sucking him off every morning. He gives you fresh ‘cream’ every morning after you wake him up. Grabing your chin and making sure you swallow every drop of his precious spend. He’ll pinch your nipples as you’re on your hands and knees hunched over and presenting for him. He loves the way your cute little tongue sticks out as he thrusts and pistons deep into you. When you howl he knows he’s hit that spot just right and will bully that spot, pummeling it with every rut and thrust. When you’re in heat, he takes every measure to make sure your properly bred and will be giving him pups. He’ll make sure your hips are at a tilted angle and he’ll use plugs to keep his cum inside you.

When you’re finally with pups he’s so happy. He’s rubbing your tummy and fucking you silly every night when you beg him to. In the morning he makes sure to give your ass a good old slap and makes breakfast for you. When you start to lactate, he’s ready with the pumps and makes sure to collect every last drop. He’ll hook your sensitive nipples up to the machine as it sucks the milk out of you. While your hooked up, he’ll swat your hands away from the machine’s pumps when you try to detach them. If you continue them he’ll swat your ass. He makes sure to preserve the bottles of your precious milk and drinks some himself.

When you finally go into labor, he’s by your side helping you through it. Each pup you birth earns you plenty of scratches behind your ears and plenty of praise. He moves each pup to your over sensitive nipples as they latch on for their first meal. Once each pup has their fill, he removes them and rotates the next one to your nipple ensuring every puppy gets their fill of milk. After the pups are asleep he’ll help you clean up. Once the pups are ready and have found their new forever homes, he’s ready to do it all over again

[planetpedri]

Domestic!Pedri Head cannons ۶ৎ

I cannot contain myself. I’m actually about to tweak thinking about these. 😭 Thank you Enny for helping me come up with these smooch smooch. Sorry I got so carried away with these…

feel free to request head canons about anyone !

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, you catch talking to Nilo all the time. Pedri will walk around the house with the little black pup in his arms, pointing things out to him.

“And that’s a picture of me and your uncle Fer.. And that’s my new shoes, those you better not touch.” or he’ll scroll through his camera roll, showing pictures of many different things, mostly pictures he’d taken of you. “Look at her, isn’t she just perfect?” It’s genuinely the most adorable thing in the world.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, after a rough day of practice just wants to lay in between your legs while you thread your fingers through his freshly dried hair. After he adopted Nilo, every time he tries to enjoy your cuddles, the pup will jump and scratch at your legs till Pedri picks him up and lays him on his chest. A small smile takes over your lips at the sight, your boyfriend was just too adorable and so was your new addition.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, likes to cook with you. It had become a common routine for the two of you after you moved in together. Now, with a dog running around the house, you two found yourselves tripping over him often. When you do so, you both erupt into a light of laughter, spewing out apologies and kissing Nilo’s head even though he wasn’t hurt.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, after a long day at practice begs you to wait to shower until he gets home. He always insists that, “it’s saving water.” But you know he just wants an excuse to be close to you, and of course you always agree. You loved the way he peppered your shoulders with soft kisses and the way his hands felt massaging the shampoo into your scalp. Showers with Pedri were when you were your most relaxed, and he felt the same way.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, never leaves you alone. On your days off you like to make meals and snacks for each other instead of going out, knowing Pedri was on a strict diet, it helped save cost anyways. Whenever you are making something, Pedri will sneak up on you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Despite knowing what you were making, he’ll ask anyways, “What’re you making, amor?” He just loved to hear your sweet voice reply.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, always, and I mean always gives you three kisses whenever he’s about to leave or whenever he is grateful or even if he just is passing by. It’s never on the same spot, he kisses your lips, shoulders, cheek, temple, jaw, neck, anywhere. And he’ll rotate them every time. His own little way of saying, “I love you.” without actually saying it, not that he has a problem saying those three words, but he just liked the simplicity and intimacy of kissing you.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, loves to cuddle with you whenever he can. On his days off he likes to sleep in, groaning and complaining any time you try to cut it short to do your morning duties. Once you’re done (after prying yourself from his grip), you climb back into bed, this time spooning him, intertwining your legs together. Pedri loves to feel your soft breaths against his neck, half of the time it will lull him back to sleep.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, paces around the house constantly. Being an athlete, he is used to moving around constantly, which causes him to feel antsy when he’s sitting alone for too long. After coming home from work, you often find him walking around the living room, staring at his phone. He only settles down when he spots you, pulling you in for a welcoming hug.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, doesn’t care much for TV shows, but will watch anything with you as long as you’re cuddling. He tries to pretend he isn’t completely enthralled in whatever you’re watching, but his random outbursts when something stupid happens says all you need to know.

“He did WHAT?” , “Is this a joke?”

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, prefers staying in instead of going out for dates. With him constantly in the public eye, he feels uncomfortable with the invasion of privacy. When he’s having intimate moments with you, he prefers not to have to hide or mellow it down. In the safety of your home, he can kiss you anywhere he pleases without wondering how the media will react. He also just likes to have you all to himself, so being at home gives you all the privacy in the world with no interruptions.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, will do anything for you. If you’re having a bad day, he will pamper you senseless. If you are sick, he will disappear for half an hour and come back with your favorite foods or things to cheer you up. He loves to take care of you. He hates to see you hurting and would do anything to make you feel better.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, is the biggest baby when he’s sick. At first, he’ll act like it doesn’t bother him, but the second you make a concerned face, he’s suddenly so much sicker. He’ll pout and pretend he’s on his death bed till you call out of work to nurse him back to health.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, loves to do anything as long as it’s with you. You want to play board games? He’s already on the way to grab them. You want to go shopping? He’s grabbing the keys. You want to go to the movies? He’s putting on a hoodie. You want to go for a walk? He’s grabbing his sneakers. Anything you want, he will do.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, doesn’t hesitate to clean the dishes after meal times. He’d rather take care of it right away so you don’t have to worry about it later. He’s always on top of things around the house, too. If something needs repaired, he’ll make the calls for you. Your family loves to tease him about how good of a husband he’ll be one day, and you can’t help but agree.

(DT): @halfwayhearted ^_^

[shirefantasies]

Hii, I absolutely love your work!! 💗 Could I please request headcannons about the characters from The Hobbit and sleeping positions or something about how they like to relax? <3

Uhhhh hell yeah this is so cute 🥺🖤

The Hobbit Characters' Favorite Sleeping Position

Balin

He likes to lay by your side, either facing each other or otherwise right up against you, your back to him as he draws circles with his hand upon your back or arm. Encouraging and relaxing you as you speak, whether it be opening up about your day or sharing some deep thought. As you drift off, Balin maintains a loose hold, knowing you are safe together.

Dwalin

Keeps to his side…at least at first. The moment you pout or reach to him he acquiesces. Acting like he is accepting for your benefit only to wrap his arms around you and clutch you to his chest like he’ll die before he loses you. Tends to fall asleep with his head lolling onto your shoulder due to this position, his legs sprawled out wherever they land, sometimes with one thrown over your sleeping form. Sometimes you will even awaken with his nose nuzzled into your neck and bear tickling any exposed skin.

Thorin

I have two words for you: big spoon. Specifically Thorin will be such. He wants nothing more than to grant you a feeling of care, of presiding over you in a loving way rather than his domineering presence can imply. In truth, being your comfort is everything, and of course he wants to feel you there, to be able to open his eyes and receive an immediate answer why if he is to sense you slipping away.

Oin

In terms of how he cuddles with you, it will be on the loose side, your arms draped over his side as you rest rather than tightly clinging or, in Oin’s words, “crushing the life out o’ me”. The habit you will come to discover, however? Oin very much likes being your little spoon. As much time as he spends caring for others, there is a part of him that wants to be cared for and held but feels too ashamed to ask about, at least at first. Please help him feel cared for!

Gloin

Rarely goes to sleep lightly, be it following a bit of hanky-panky or simply the bit of playful wrestling that ensues if you try to adopt the position of big spoon. Unless of course Gloin is quite tired, in which case you may find him just flopping right over on his back, half atop you but fully vulnerable to your hold!

Bifur

Cuddling too close can feel suffocating to him, especially after all he has been through and the nightmares he sometimes has. However, just because he does not want to entrap you does not mean that Bifur refuses your touch. He finds great comfort in holding your hand as he drifts off, squeezing it if he wakes up in the night. The feeling of your head upon his shoulder or leaned against his is absolute heaven to Bifur.

Bofur

Arms snaking about your waist, Bofur pulls you into his lap before tumbling your joined bodies onto the bed, eventually rotating to face you. His legs weave with your own into the most wonderful mess, radiating with the warmth of your love and every good night kiss. Hooks you in with that leg-lock to pull you even closer against his chest.

Bombur

Cuddling is his favorite thing in the world! Bombur is an expert at it, whether it is being your living blanket or sharing your space in his favorite way, facing you. Nuzzling his nose against yours and peering into your eyes to watch them close and open in fading wake. Sandwiches one of your legs in his, an accidental trap of love, but he just loves to hold you close!

Dori

Lays right by your side, your heads brushing together so he can rub his cheek against yours and talk and listen until you both fall asleep. Sometimes holding hands, others simply loosely draped, limbs thrown wherever they please. You usually end up falling asleep half on top of Dori, head lolling onto his shoulder or chest. He usually wakes up first and subsequently wakes you up with a kiss to the top of your head.

Nori

If you ask Nori, the best way to cuddle is the best way to do anything: with him on top of you! What better than to be able to look down upon you, to kiss you and straddle you on your way off to dreamland? To see directly the effects of any attempts at flustering you staring him in the face quite literally. One hand of his might snake about your waist and give your hip an affectionate squeeze as he nuzzles down into you, whispering you sweet nothings into sleep.

Ori

He absolutely adores cuddling and falling asleep facing each other, his arms gently thrown around you. Rubs his nose against yours as you both drift off, claiming one last sleepy kiss. If you tumble off into dreams first Ori will watch you with a smile, wishing for his last sight of the day to always be of your peaceful expression.

Fili

Caring, giving, protecting Fili wants to hold you. His natural position when he lays by your side is to be your big spoon, holding you flush against him. To have you in his arms is the greatest gift Fili could ask for, security in the highest capacity when he knows you are close to him, close enough to feel his heartbeat and the fanning of his breath upon you and the kisses he places upon your head, neck, shoulders as your eyes flutter shut.

Kili

Mischievously tugs you into bed, pulling you into his favorite position so you are draped atop his chest. With you there, Kili melts at the sight of your head lain over his heart, soothed by its beat. He presses kisses to the crown of it during pre-sleep cuddles, one hand rubbing your back. Up and down the warm softness slides as dreams begin to take you both, the rhythm of synchronizing heartbeats carrying you off.

Bilbo

Bilbo's favorite way to cuddle or go to sleep with you is absolutely as your little spoon! The feeling of snuggling up in your arms is utter bliss, his body melting like butter as he relaxes against you. If you throw a leg over him, you can feel him stiffen in surprise before relaxing once more and turning his head to give you a shy but wide smile. Before sleep takes him, he loves to reach up and hold the hands you've wrapped around him, affectionately running them along yours.

Thranduil

Warning: a bit of a bed hog. At least in the sense that his limbs sprawl out where they please, draping themselves wherever is most comfortable. Which more often than not will involve some part of your body. Thranduil's reaching arms tend to find purchase, for example, when his hand finds your hair to stroke or tangle his fingers in. One of his legs as they stretch and lounge will likely end up beneath yours.

Feren

Adores lying side by side, some space for each of your bodies, but with your hands joined between them. Fingers intertwined like an anchor, a way to show your love even as you fade away into the night. Feren also feels his heartbeat speed when you tuck your head into the crook of his neck, reaching up to stroke your hair before sleep overtakes him.

Bard

Tends to face the opposite direction as you, laying upon his side. However, peek at him when you butt against him, when you wrap an arm over him and feel his hand grip yours and you will see the smile spreading across Bard's face. A sight sure to speed the rhythm of the heartbeat he loves to feel pressed against him.

Beorn

Not used to cuddling at all and quite a stiff sleeper. Once he is comfortable with you, though, that safeguarding streak of Beorn's emerges. Though he does not tend to cuddle to sleep unless you ask for it, peace flows through his whole being when you curl at his side, his form still straight but one arm extended out that much further to rest along your back, a hand at the small of it.

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[thoughtsafterdark]

Hospitals and Airports are the closest modernity can come to reaching the Divine

Have you noticed how some places seem immune to time and social conventions. Like airports, those monoliths of now. Harsh lights burning and souls criss-crossing, tongues melting together into a writhing throng of humanity, a steaming cesspit of consciousness. Steeped in camaraderie yet drenched in isolation. The electric blue arrivals sign glares with neon brightness at 3am, a beacon that signals the end of the road.

Here comes a family of 4 on their way home, crossing through automatic doors into the balmy drizzle of a British night, carrying their loot of straw hats and cheap pendants, tan lines and peeling red lobster skin. A girl no older than 5 limps after her parents and older brother. She lugs her bright pink unicorn behind her and hugs the hood of lilac pyjamas close, rubs the sleep out of her eyes whilst her mother shouts at her to hurry. Soon she’ll tuck herself into bed, in the attic of their ordinary red brick London row house, and she’ll watch the sun peak over the trees in the back garden for the first time in her life. It will become a core memory she will think fondly back on for years to come.

By the first class lounge they hurried past, a man in an impeccable suit (Sheep’s wool, the finest money can buy. The grey colour of the Thames on an early morning) paces back and forth restlessly, briefcase in hand, phone in another. Gold amber eyes like a hawk, close cropped black hair and neatly trimmed beard, square pocket matching the deep tan of his shoes (authentic leather). He is barking orders to someone in Arabic, closing deals, building empires. A bloodied napkin he used to stop a nosebleed earlier falls out of his pocket and winks up at the scaffolding exposed ceiling, high and arching like the dome of a cathedral. He’ll make the sale, then visit the airport bathroom again before hailing a cab to the closest 5 star. In the morning, the maid who took the job to send money to her ailing mother in the Philippines will find his cold stiff body and scream. She’ll call the police and be taken in for questioning. She never signed up for this.

At the hospital coffee shop – two streets and half a lifetime away - a 4th year med students sips on a cortado like her life depends on it. Caffeine surges through her veins, bracing her for the day ahead. Unbelievable how exhausting trying to take up as little space as possible can be. She hates the spiel, it’s the same every time. A new dawn, a new face, a new team. The introductions, the smiling, the grovelling, the headache. She’s 5ft flat with bright orange hair, aspirations for Neurosurgery and a bright pink notebook, so why would they take her seriously.

It’s 8:30, and she’s scheduled for 9am clinic, so she has time for a hurried breakfast today. (Eating any earlier makes her gag). Small mercies. The off-red stained scrubs she nicked from the theatre changing rooms cling to her like a second skin preparing to moult. She squirms in them, the comfort undeniable. They make her feel like she belongs. They make her feel like an imposter.

Her table – she comes here so often; she thinks of it as hers - sits right by large windows overlooking the main entrance and staircase. She sees it all from here, her quiet unassuming throne. The doctors and nurses, physios and pharmacists. Rushing rushing, running, stressing. Wishing, hoping, waiting, waiting, waiting. For the shift to end, for the time for bed. For this rotation to change, for the exam to pass. We’ll go on that holiday next month, next year. When money isn’t tight, when things are more settled.  Before they know it they’ve wished their lives away.

Their patients understand, all too well and all too late. The same father with the IV drip and the metal stand comes down here every morning to see his daughters. They run up to him, he holds them close and beams. But his grip is getting weaker, smile is getting thinner. He doesn’t answer when they ask when he’s coming home. It’s funny what we can’t hear when we’re too busy wearing stethoscopes. Next month she (I) will be stationed on the Psych ward. We’ll have to do it all again, but maybe they’ll hear me this time. Maybe it’ll get easier.

Between them all and among them, if you squint and unfocus your eyes during one of those ungodly hours at the Starbacks across from Boots and WHSmith, leaning against a grey white pillar you might see him.

He is the spectre that haunts airport lounges and waiting rooms alike, the handsome stranger with the black snapback and the beats headphones and the khaki shorts. The one who lives out of a rucksack and wears a travel pillow like a crown. With the kind eyes and crows feet, and honey chestnut curls. He is that boy from your high school everyone liked, with a kind word for everyone; the one with a charmers smile and the charisma to bullshit his way through anything. The one who – when pressed for future plans, would laugh and shake his head, looking down bashfully. “I just want to travel for now, see where it takes me. I want to see the world”, he’d say, eyes twinkling with the possibilities. On someone else, the words would likely merit a telling off, they’d be seen as the paper thin excuse to fuck around and get high. But he seemed so genuine, and his teeth were such a dazzling shade of brilliant white when he smiled, even the strictest careers advisers couldn’t resist.

He lives in those moments, the liminal fabric between worlds that’s so hard to put your finger on. Blink and you’ll miss him in the old alleys of Rome, the spark of his cigarette lighter blending amongst the city lights.

You’ll find him among the most remote hiking trails of the Peloponnese, laughing with local shepherds and German tourists alike, sitting on jutting rocky cliffs and admiring the blue Mediterranean below. If you really pay attention, you’ll see his staff isn’t like the others. Something suspiciously like a pair of snake slithers up and down. You could swear you heard them whispering just now, but when you look again it’s just a wooden stick.

He is the patron of us wanderers and travellers, those of us with movement in our blood and restlessness in our hearts. The ones who beget the will of changing winds and shifting tides. The ones who can’t allow themselves to sit still, lest the dust settle and the coffee get cold. The mortifying ordeal of being seen and known. Or the ones that carry a hearth with them, in the bottom of a suitcase, in the heart of a trailer. The ones who move and weave through the Earth not because they are running but because they are coming home. He dances and jokes with the kids amongst campfires, always welcome, always a pleasure. And if he helps them pick the odd lock, swearing solemnly to secrecy, who are we to judge.

His bronze skin smells of cinnamon and nutmeg, vanilla and cedar and a thousand other spices. He reeks of incense and market stalls, moles and freckles tell the story of trading routes and old silk roads, of cotton shawls from Alexandria and silk from Pekking. His fingers and eyes twinkle with the good-natured mischief of petty thieves and sleight-of-hand magicians, tricksters and circus performers. He picks apples from behind ears, presents jewel necklaces to his lovers.

She sees him now, amongst the patients. He helps an old lady up the steps, pulls a balloon out of his back pocket to the delight of a sick child. She locks eyes with him and they nod at one another She has been seen now, and known. Perhaps she’ll find him again one day, if either stop running.

[izzystizzys]

“…I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I still don’t quite understand”, Fox says, for what must be the dozenth time that hour. His heartbeat pounds behind his eyes in an incessant drum of hurt, and his head aches with every breath like someone’s taken a rusty fork to the inside of his skull and raked his brain out. Fox’ eyes are beginning to burn the way they start doing around hour 80 of a shift, and he has to suppress the brief urge to check over his shoulder. Not even Stabby could come up with a ploy this contrived to make him sleep. Probably.

In front of him, General Grievous coughs awkwardly, long spindly durasteel limbs shivering with its force. “Certainly”, he vocalizes, in that deep, watery cadence. “For your glorious triumphs in battle, your awe-inspiring victory over me in close combat, and your undeniable warrior spirit, I accept you as my consort. I have proven my skills through the ritual capture, and thus, by Kaleesh custom, we are now wed, Commander Fox. I will honor you as my war-bride, and visit vengeance upon your enemies. I swear it to you.”

Expectantly, Grievous tilts his faceplate to the side, and Fox only just catches the suppression of the manic giggle that wants to escape him. Yeah, probably not Stabby - maybe a dying fever dream? Has the infected gash from that skirmish on the lower levels five rotations ago finally decided to end him? If so, it’s not fast enough for Fox’ tastes.

Here’s how it happened: Fox has no kriffing clue. All he knows is one moment an emergency alert tore him from precious Scream Closet time this morning, he went to rescue the Chancellor’s dumb ass again, and whoop, here he is on General Grievous’ ship with the war-criminal himself declaring them happily married. And eyeing him up and down like a piece of candy.

Why, Fox thinks, desperately, does this always have to happen to me?!

Chancellor’s still kidnapped, by the way. Fox has other priorities for the time being.

“I swear to aim my weapons in your service”, Grievous continues, when it becomes exceedingly clear Fox is not going to break out of his shocked stupor anytime soon. “I swear to aim true and strike with murderous intent, I swear to uphold the sacred bonds of our clans in the name of our union, I swear to raise a strong, bloodthirsty brood of warriors with-“

“Wait”, Fox interrupts, once his brain has caught up past the astromech dial-up sound it seems to be playing on repeat. “Uphold clan bonds? You murder your way through my brothers like a rabid nexu on spice on the regular!”

Grievous’ faceplate, which should be for all intents and purposes totally expressionless, does something that reminds Fox strangely of contrition. It has him gaping and shivering in discomfort, in any case. “A fact I regret, but acknowledge lies in my past before the fateful crossing of our paths. I am a warrior at soul, you must understand, my worthy mate.” Durasteel faceplates don’t turn soft. They don’t. And coughs don’t sound loving. They simply do not. “But I uphold the bonds of these sacred vows under Kaleesh law, that I swear to you, my beloved.”

“All I did was grapple you to the ground”, Fox says, mourningly. “Cody has kicked you in the head dozens of times and you’ve never tried to marry him.”

“He is not you, and his battle lacks the lustful vitality and love of violence of yours”, Grievous declares, and Fox really cannot tell whether the sound that erupts from him is a lovelorn sigh or a hacking death-gurgle. This cannot be his life.

Just then, a droid conveniently enters, putting a pause to all Fox’ sufferings. He’ll need to tell Thorn to research Kaleesh divorce proceedings. Or, better yet - he needs to blow up this whole karking ship including himself and destroy all evidence of this ever happening.

“Generals Kenobi and Skywalker awaiting in custody, Sir”, says the droid, nervously. “They are here to rescue Chancellor Palpatine, but we cut them off just out of the hangar bay.”

Internally, Fox rolls his eyes so hard it hurts his brain. “The Jedi can wait”, Grievous hacks out, and for once Fox agrees with him. Let the two dick around onboard, there’s bigger issues at hand.

“But Sir”, says the droid, all twitchy with an anxiety Fox eternally wonders who the kriff programmed into the damn things, “what if they try to escape and -“

A deep, growling noise erupts from deep within Grievous’ massive metal chest, amplifying Fox’ pounding headache by a thousandfold. “I have no time for this”, he snarls at the cowering droid. “Remove yourself from my and mine beloved’s sight.”

“Roger Roger”, the B2 squeaks, hesitantly, before adding on - “The Chancellor-“

Harrumphing petulantly, Grievous stomps one massive, clawed foot and makes what feels like the whole viewdeck shake. “I will twist his head off his body like a rotten fruit”, he declares. “That will get those pesky Jedi off my ship faster, and then we can continue saying our vows.” He pauses, thoughtfully, and then hooded eyes ringed by what must surely be rotten flesh fix on Fox inexorably. “It will be my wedding gift to you, beloved, an offering of peace to your brothers.”

Fox opens his mouth to protest, but quickly snaps it shut again when his husband already turns tail and storms off.

Huh. Maybe this marriage thing isn’t all bad.

[iloveboysinred]

just read ur keith nsfw hc😩😩I ILOVED THEM SO MUCH N UR WRITING IS AMAZINNNGGG,, i was wondering if u could write some more keith nsfw, whatever comes to your mind💗💗

First of all sorry anon bub i had to touch grass and breathe outside air before i wrote this bc i havent written for Keith in a miiinute (sorry voltron feens, i been starving yall right along with the Zuko Stans 💔) but lets get right into it cause i woke up wanting to get active!

Afab! Reader here.

- so since you read my other hcs you already know i think Keith is a FREAK. And let me elaborate!

- dont let his emo lone wolf persona throw you off, cause once he gets through that beginning shy faze hes on your boddyyyyy

- backshot warrior. He likes to be at your ear at all times with his nasty, dirty mouth.

- so while he’s giving you backshots he’ll lean down, whispering nasty praise into your ear, or if its angry sex he’s teasing you about your moans and laying claim to you by leaving marks on you where he can reach you.

- “you’re gasping, your hands gripping the pillows to try and stabilize yourself from the rough back and fourth of Keith’s thrusts and his hands on your hips pulling you back onto his dick. You feel him lean down on you, his chest pressing up against your back. “So tight” he whispers, rotating his hips in tight, agonizingly deep circles. “This pussy’s so good. You’re so good f’me baby” he grunts, bringing himself down to nip and lick at your earlobe, his tongue hot against your skin.”

- he really likes to fuck in front of a mirror, especially if he’s feeling some type of way and wants you to watch as he fucks you open or he wants you to see your face when you cum all over his dick. Bonus points if he’s angry or jealous.

- “eyes on the mirror.” You could tell Keith’s patience was wearing thin, his voice curt as he grabs your chin, turning you back to look at the full body mirror in his room. He started up his pace again with mean thrusts rocking the headboard and filling the room with loud squelches as your poor pussy quivered and drooled around his girth. He had a tight grip on your hair, holding your head up and in place to watch as he fucked you within an inch of your life. “I’m the only one that can fuck you like this.” And he sounds so self assured, your tight walls clenching around him at his words and proving his words true. “Fuckin pussy was made just for me.”

- and dont get me wrong! Keith is a sap too. I genuinely feel like most of the time he’s the sentimental sex type. Like i’ll speak on Keith being a freak ass all day but i genuinely believe most of the time you both have soft, loving sex until yall get booted to space and all the crazy shit starts happening and he just has to take that stress out in other ways besides training.

-Like when you came to him about how you miss home and how you miss just being with him before this whole galaxy space war crazyness began, he comforted you, reassuring you that the two of you being together was as close to home as ya’ll could get. That night, he held your hands in his, fingers interlaced as he made love to you. He held your gaze in his, whispering sweet words and little nothings to you while he rocked his hips into you, slow and deep.

- quickie obsessed. Like i said in the hcs when he wants you he’ll have you. He’s lucky you’re just as down as him because the way this man will just drag you into whatever mildly secluded area and just either swallow your tongue and feel you up or straight up just try and bend you over is crazy. It only takes a misplaced touch or a sultry look and he smirking at you, nothing but ill intent in his eyes as he drags you away. And its even crazier that he has the audacity to act embarrassed if you ever get caught

- I feel like he genuinely likes when you’re a little rough back. Grab his hair, choke him, bruise him up a little and he’s loving it. Has literal hearts in his eyes when you take control and treat him so meanly. When you did it he was shocked the first time, but he definitely finds himself liking it, taking your dominance as a challenge to see who can crumble first.

-loves loves lovessss when you moan his name when he’s fucking you stupid. Its cute how you cant get a coherent word out, everything you say fading into mumbles and gasps.

- pussy EATER. He’s not a pro by any means but once you show him how you like it he does it just to see you squirm and rock into his face. He gets pussy drunk easily, and his eyes bore into yours every time as if he’s holding you down with his gaze.

Thats all i got anon bub. Thank you for your ask💟 AND THANK YOU FOR ENJOYING MY WORK I LOVE YOU