#but i cant even get that. so what do i do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mysteria157 · 2 days ago

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Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black!Fem Reader

Rating/CW: explicit sexual content, cowgirl, vaginal sex, light bondage, power dynamics, teasing/edging, sweating Kento out because that's what I love most, established relationship, MDNI!

WC: ~5.9K

Summary: What happens when you playfully suggest a new dynamic in the bedroom? Utter torment for Nanami, of course. What else is new?

a/n: The writer's block has been absolutely atrocious, but I was able to break free of its clutches with this. Is it Sheriff Nanami? No. But it is smut that's been sitting in my mind so long that it gave me a fever. So...here ya go lol.

Ao3 | JJK Masterlist | Divider: @cafekitsune @strangergraphics | Part Two | network tag: @pixelcafe-network

The silk of his favorite tie is familiar to him—the way it slides through his fingers each morning when he gets ready for work, the weight of it loose around his neck as he shaves, the pop of black against gold in his reflection when he secures it beneath his collar. But it’s never quite felt like this—wrapped snugly around his wrists, rumpled and stretching with every pull of his hands, growing damp with sweat from his wrists as he watches you ride him within an inch of his life.

Nanami hisses, dark blonde eyebrows pitched deep in concentration as he gazes up at you. His usually immaculate hair is a mess, flaxen strands plastered to his forehead with sweat that trails down his neck like a lover’s caress, slipping beneath his shoulder blades to soak into the sheets of your shared bed.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he grits out. He means to sound indignant, frustrated in light of what he’s gotten himself into, but his body tells a different story. His hips itch to cant upward, fingers clench like a madman for purchase into your skin, jaw clicking as he grinds his teeth against mounting pleasure.

You snort as if the very thought of conceding is laughable. The consistent jump of your hips stops, the action shooting a flare of want up his stomach. Your fingers flex on his chest, pressing further as you lift your hips up and up, exposing more of his wet cock to the cool air until just the tip remains encased in your heat. He yanks at the restraints before he can stop himself, a silent plea that makes you smile.

“Are you sure?” you tease, rotating your hips, and the feel of it makes his eyes cross. “If you’re not comfortable, Ken, we can stop.”

The thought of stopping makes his cock throb traitorously, even as his body feels flayed open, every nerve ending exposed and singing. He did agree to this, after all.

It was meant as a joke. Just a random comment you made three mornings ago while fixing his tie like any other day. Like always, Nanami used those precious moments before departing for work to drink you in—his own private ritual of worship. The gentle sweep of your eyelashes as you focused on his Windsor knot, the way the morning light caught the rich undertones of your melanin-kissed skin, that unconscious purse of your lips that made him want to be late every morning.

“You ever thought about letting me tie you up?”

The question struck him like a match against kindling. Nanami is not really the adventurous one in the bedroom—that’s your domain, and he follows willingly where you lead. But the thought of being at your mercy, of letting go of his ingrained control to watch you take whatever you want from him, had his ears ringing. It was something about the way you wouldn’t meet his eyes, the subtle dip of one side of your cheek as you bit down on it, the want radiating from you like heat from a flame…

When it comes to you, he will try anything once.

A joke that became an agreement. An agreement turned into tonight—you in that devastating dress over dinner, his fingers leveling enough strength not to shatter the wine glass he drank frivolously from as he watched you toy with your necklace, knowing what was to come. An agreement turned into a frantic mess of hands undoing zippers and buttons, of smoothing along the soft planes of your inner thighs before his mouth feasted on the pearl in the center, of you giggling like a wanton feign as you wrapped his wrists and notched them to the bed frame.

Just a joke. Just an agreement. Now, here he rests, on his back, on fire, and subtly regretting his choices because he’s a selfish man who wants all of you all the time. And Nanami, like the fool he is when it comes to you, truly thought he could bear it.

“Focus, Ken.”

An absolute fool.

“I’m not uncomfortable. But you’re hardly playing fair.”

You never do. How could you? You’re divinity made flesh, mischief molded from clay—a goddess who delights in reducing him to prayers and pleas. He loves you, desperately so, and has long since accepted that his soul will forever chase the wonderful chaos you bring to his carefully ordered world.

“What could you possibly mean?” you’re coquettish in your question, biting the corner of your lip in that way that makes his spine straighten. His eyes linger on that lip, remembering how it feels beneath his thumb, against his tongue, between his teeth.

“Darling—”

He doesn’t get far. Before the rest of his words can leave his mouth, you’re dropping back down onto him, enveloping his cock in a blistering heat so intense it borders on religious experience. Every nerve ending ignites at once, pleasure searing through him like a brand.

“No talking.”

And isn’t that funny? Because any words Nanami has disintegrated into a powdery mist seconds ago. So, of course, Nanami has no choice but to bite the inside of his cheek until he can taste coppery tang, pulling at his restraints for the nth time of the night and wishing in this very moment to be oblivious to the sounds of your wanton moans that echo in the air.

Nanami’s groan starts deep in his chest, reverberating through him like a growing monsoon as you lean forward, trailing your nose along his throat. Your scent—Shea butter and feminine heat—fills his lungs like incense, a temptation he can’t answer, a shrine he cannot appreciate despite every cell in his body screaming to touch.

“You agreed.”

“To the restraints, not torture.” He can hear the hitch in your breath, that light choke as you try to hold back a laugh. Your hips give another sensual twirl, and Nanami can hear the clench of his teeth. “I want—I need to touch you.”

“Come now, Kento,” you coo in his ear, sliding your tongue along his lobe before you bite down into the cartilage. He grunts, flinching back even as his cock twitches inside of you. “You married me remember? Surely you know my ways.”

“My love—” You twirl your hips again and again and again. Each swivel is representative of a slow churn of his rapidly loosening arousal.

Nanami has always been spellbound by your beauty. From the moment his eyes open in the morning to the moment they close at night, you are all he knows. The curve of your smile makes his heart beat faster, the music of your laugh fills his stomach with butterflies. Without intention, you undo him.

Even now, bouncing on his cock like the vixen you are, you are ethereal. Your box braids sway with each movement, catching the artificial light as they brush across your shoulders that gleam with exertion. Sweat has transformed your baby hairs into delicate curls against your temples and hairline, giving you an almost feral beauty that makes his mouth run dry.

That’s what makes it all the more painful for him. The way sweat slides down your brown skin, the pebble of perspiration along the curve of your stomach, the hypnotic sway of your breasts as you take what you want, it all beckons to him. His mouth waters like a starving man at a feast he’s forbidden to partake in. The base of his spine coils with an inexplicable pressure that blooms along his back. The tips of his fingers tingle from the loss of blood from the restraints and with the desire to touch you.

It’s not fair.

It’s frustrating. Agonizing to the very depth of his soul how badly he wants to reach for you. He’s strong enough to snap these damn restraints—he could easily do it. The image floods his mind unbidden—how easy it would be to snap these ties, to flip you on your back and fuck you so hard you’re crying his name. He can almost feel it—the sharp sting of your nails (freshly done, he notices even in his delirium) scraping down his back as he drives into you without mercy, the way you’d arch beneath him, how your defiance would melt into pleas. His muscles coil with the phantom sensation, his ears echoing the ghost of your cries he could draw from you.

But you wanted this. You’ve asked for a slither of control he freely gives, and he refuses to see a shred of disappointment on your face because he was impatient.

So he waits. Even though his skin is burning from the inside out. Even though his heart is beating so fast, it feels like his chest might cave in. He waits. His cock feels so tight that he’s almost feverish with worry if he can hold on much longer. The feel of your essence coating his thighs and balls, the sound of your moans, the sight of the column of your throat when you throw your head back.

It’s truly not fair.

“My love, please,” he can’t help but beg. He’s never against begging. Not when it comes to you. Not when it comes to unraveling the knot you easily twist inside of him. Already, he’s backtracking. He reaches up just a little, hoping you’ll grant him some part of you—the smell of your skin along his nose, the taste of your sweat on his tongue, anything.

“No.”

You leave no room for argument, pressing against his chest to force him back into submission. Frustration flares like a demon in his chest, curdling and dying instantly against the want that oozes from him.

“Come on, Kento,” you chide, moaning breathlessly as you double your efforts. “Don’t you want to give me what I want?”

Of course, he does. But in moments like this, Nanami wishes he were a weaker man because you’re too wet, too hot, too soft, and tight around him. The silk-soft clutch of your body is turning his mind to static.

Just the thought of how you feel around him threatens to shatter his composure. Pleasure pools molten in his lower abdomen, every muscle tight as a bowstring as he fights his body’s betrayal. He hisses through bared teeth, digs his fingers into the silk encased around his wrists, and yanks until the bed frame groans. His control is quickly failing him, your moans a siren’s song in his head urging surrender. His body responds without question—feet seeking purchase on the mattress, thighs tensing as instinct fights restraint. It will only take a second for him to plant his feet and drive up into you until you’re seeing stars.

But you’re faster. You lean forward to slide your hands behind his neck, delicate fingers weaving through the sweaty strands of his hair before you pull tight, angling his head back so his neck is bared to you in willful submission. The sharp difference between your soft touch and the display of dominance makes his eyes roll back, swimming in the viscera of his brain as a broken sound escapes him, his resistance melting away. His heels slide back onto the bed, forgotten.

Your soft lips press at the juncture of his neck, your braids falling around you both like a curtain, the ends tickling his chest. The scent of your coconut hair oil mingles with the Shea from your skin, making his head spin. The feel of your smirk on his neck—victorious—makes his cock throb, a tight rubber band behind his belly button fraying on the edges, warning him that his time is running out.

You move agonizingly slow with each roll of your hips, sending electricity up his spine, searing his skin everywhere you touch and aching where you don’t. His skin feels too tight, like his bones don’t fit, and the discomfort is as satisfying as it is jarring. He yanks, sweat beading at his temples, sliding down his neck, making everything feel slick and hot and maddening.

When you sit up, you trail your hands down the rigid lines of his straining muscles, admiring the jutting veins and sinew. You hum in appreciation, pupils blown black as you take him in. The small of Nanami’s back arches in just so, preening under your rapturous gaze because he hopes he’s doing well. Even like this—bound and helpless beneath you—his desire to be good wars with his desperation to touch. The praise in your eyes soothes even as it burns.

Look how still he stays for you. Look how good he’s being.

Nanami’s thighs tremble with the effort not to thrust, not to take, not to claim. Each second stretches like the most painful torture as his mind fractures into desperation—just one thrust, one press of his tongue to your skin, one moment of control. Please. Please. The word burns behind his teeth, unspoken and curdling but screaming like a banshee in his blood.

“Getting frustrated, Ken?” Your voice is honey-sweet poison, made breathier by your movements. He won’t rise to your taunts; he lacks the strength for it. So he basks in the attention you lavish with your eyes, your silent praise like invisible hands along his skin. Just as quickly, he closes his eyes tight. If he looks a moment longer, this night will have an unfortunate end for you both.

“Look at me.”

Your demand cuts through the haze of his desire, sharp and unyielding. He’s too slow to respond to you, and all too quickly, he feels your fingers dig slightly into his jaw, forcing his surrender as his eyes flutter open. His restlessness must show because there’s that wicked glint in your eyes, and you thrive on his misery, rewarding him with a kiss so quick and gentle that he’s chasing after your lips for more. You press your hands firmly to his chest, a clear command to be still. With no friction, it’s just blistering heat, his cock pulsing, a whimper dying in the back of his throat.

You shift, and Nanami’s ears register a faint click that he catches with his eyes. Your heels, oh, those clear heels, glimmer up at him as you plant your feet on the soft sheets. Delicate clear straps wrap around your ankles like ribbons on a gift he’s held all night and still not allowed to unwrap, the nude leather making your brown skin glow in the dim lamplight.

The moment you put them on earlier in the evening, they haunted him—from the restaurant to the ride home, the way they made your legs look endless in that dress when you crossed them in the passenger seat. Now, they dig into the sheets on either side of his hips as you use them for leverage, the crystal clear stilettos catching the light like ice. The sheer difference of something so elegant being used in such a primal way makes his breath catch—much like yourself, refined on the outside but capable of reducing him to nothing but baseless need.

“Watch me,” you command. As if Nanami could look away if he tried. Damn you. “Watch how well I ride you while you can’t touch.”

He loathes how the new angle makes his vision swim at the edges, hates even more how each movement strips away another layer of his composure. Every bounce drives him deeper into insanity, making him strain harder against the ties that keep him from you.

“You poor thing,” you coo, the false sympathy in your voice making his upper lip curl, a growl simmering in the back of his throat. “You want to touch so badly, don’t you?”

God. He wants, he wants. He wants with an intensity that frightens him.

You’re a taunting vision above him, and he eyes the champagne-colored dress that’s now bunched carelessly at your waist. It was the perfect compliment for you, silken and caressing your body during dinner while he swallowed his bubbling desire with every generous gulp of red wine. A halter top dress fastened behind your neck that was quickly undone when you pushed him on the bed, your breasts spilling from their lustrous confines.

The hem is rumpled, kissing the tops of your curvy thighs and falling open with your new position so he can see everything between your legs. Dimpled skin that rises up and down, beckoning that he grip your hips and trace your curves with his tongue.

The wet sound of skin on skin drowns out even his thundering heartbeat, and he can’t decide which is worse—watching you take your pleasure or being forced to listen to how perfectly you use his body for your own needs. That controls splinters, cracks, disintegrates, and flutters like ash in the wind.

He’s never wished more in this moment for you to tire out, for your stamina to be next to nothing. But no. You knew exactly what you were doing when you fastened his tie three days ago.

“You ever thought about letting me tie you up?”

Nanami, in his stupidity and endless love for you, saw what he wanted in your eyes. What he mistook for aimless curiosity, was actually calculated, unadulterated mischief.

Of course, he would agree.

That’s why you punctuated your victory with this dress. That’s why you got your hair done yesterday. That’s why you wore these new heels and lathered your body in the Shea butter lotion he loves so much.

A level of strategy so calculated that Gojo Satoru himself would be envious of its perfection.

God, he loves you. Even as he silently begs whatever entity will listen to him to be free of this prison you’ve created, he loves you beyond reason.

“Poor Kento,” you purr, your words cracking through his spiraling thoughts like a whip. You lean back on one hand, the arch of your back pushes your breasts forward, and his mouth waters at the sight. Every cell in his body strains toward you, pressing beneath the surface of his skin and coagulating into a congealed mass.

But it’s the sight of you spreading your legs wider, of giving him a view of all of you, of your other hand sliding down your stomach that truly threatens to break him. Your fingers find your clit, and the wet sound of you touching yourself while he’s buried deep inside makes his vision blur. Those should be his fingers bringing you pleasure, his touch pushing you toward release. Instead, he can only watch, desperate and aching, as you chase your own pleasure.

“Look how wet I am,” you breathe, and his hips buck involuntarily at your words. He doesn’t even bother to feel shame at the glare you shoot his way for disobeying. “Don’t you wish these were your fingers? Making me feel good?”

“Don’t be cruel.” The ties might actually snap from how hard he’s pulling now, watching your fingers work in tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, your cunt squeezing him like a vice. You’re getting close—he can tell from the way your thighs start to tremble, the way your breath shakes.

Your laugh in response sends searing heat down his spine—musical and breathless and utterly wicked, even though it makes his blood boil. The sound mingles with the wet noises of your fingers working between your legs, the sight and sound of you nearly driving him mad.

“I need—” he chokes on the words as you clench around him in reprimand, his tongue thick in his mouth. “I need to cum. Please.”

“No.” Your voice is firm despite your breathlessness, your fingers never stopping their circles against your clit. “Not until I’m done with you. Can you hold on? Can you be good for me, Ken?”

Good.

A word so simple to a weaker man, but absolute devastation to him. His cock throbs to the increased tempo of his pulse, the festering heat of pleasure pulls behind his belly button, the base of his spine coiling like a snake backed into a corner. His wrists burn from the careful strain of being at your mercy and not breaking free. He’s fighting, but he’s trying—fuck help him, he’s trying to be good for you.

You purposefully clench around him, tight and hot and perfect, watching his face contort in pain. “Stop,” he growls, the sound raw and anguished in his throat.

Your answering giggle is like a knife to his chest, delighted by his desperation. “Make me,” you challenge, knowing full well he can’t. You do it again, squeezing around him as your fingers work faster. “What’s wrong, Ken? Too much?”

His growl turns into something close to a whimper as you torment him with another deliberate clench. And another, and another, and another. The ties creak ominously, his whole body trembling with the effort to hold back.

“You’re cruel,” he pants, but the accusation only makes you smile wider, your movements growing more erratic as you get closer to your peak.

Every bounce of your breasts, every flutter of your lashes, every rapturous moan—it’s all burning into his memory like an iron on his skin. His hands ache for the soft crease where your thighs meet, where your thick curves swell so perfectly beneath his thirsty gaze. The sheen of sweat between your breasts calls to his tongue, taunting him with memories of your salty taste. Everything within reach, yet forbidden.

Nanami licks his lips, his tongue catching the subtle tang of your fading arousal from earlier in the evening when his face was buried between your thighs. Saliva pools in his mouth with the phantom taste of you. His breath catches in the dry crevices of his throat, gargling on a guttural whimper as he catalogs you in your utter devastation.

The crystal clear heels, purchased on that rainy Saturday when you’d lingered at the store window with wanting eyes. The champagne silk dress now bunched carelessly at your waist, chosen by him because he loved how the fabric made you shiver when you ran your fingers against it at the store last week. Those delicate black lace panties, pushed to one side of your pussy and soaked through, that he’d selected with trembling fingers weeks ago, imagining the many times you’d left them on while he fucked you into the mattress.

The gold chain at your throat catches the light with each bounce of your body, dancing across your collarbones like encapsulated sunshine. He remembers fastening it there for the first time on your anniversary, his lips following the metal’s path. Your body is decorated in diamonds like stars—the studs in your ears, the tennis bracelet on your wrist, the anklet that glints at him from his restraints. But it’s the wedding ring that truly breaks him—that symbol of his eternal devotion joining two other fingers that now press against your clit as you climb higher.

His marks cover you like a map of worship—the jewelry he chose, the silk he bought, the lingerie he selected. Every adornment screams his claim, but his hands remain tied, denied by the very exquisite canvas he’s painted with such adoration.

He sees the faint vestiges of the finish line, that light at the end of the tunnel when your hips stutter in movement and your breathless pants fall into a surprised moan that makes you stop. Your head falls back again, exposing the delicious column of your throat. His gums itch, inner cheeks sweating with saliva with the primal urge to dig his teeth into your soft skin. Your body is normally decorated with little marks from him—bruises from his fingers on your hips and thighs, hickeys on the curve of your breasts, cum dripping from your cunt. But tonight, you’re a blemish-free beauty in appearance, devilish in motivation.

“Untie me,” Nanami whispers, not bothering to coat the begging lilt in his tone. “Untie me, and I’ll give you everything you want, love.”

Your head rolls to the side with serpentine grace until your dangerous gaze meets his. You’re glaring without any heat, narrowing your eyes in that playful manner that is always preceded by making Nanami’s life blissfully miserable.

You lift your hips slowly, slowly, slowly, and his eyes fall on the inches of his thick cock that become more exposed to the elements. He takes the abundance of your slick coating him, the thin gossamer bands that lengthen from your joined bodies and snap as the distance grows, the subtle flutter of your walls that suffocate him. Then, without warning—you drop. The sudden rush of wet heat around him shoots electricity up his spine and along his molars that he grinds into dust. He moans harshly, deep, and tortured, shaking from his mouth like a staccato as he tilts his head into the pillow beneath him.

“So good,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him, the words falling from your lips like a prayer. “So good for me, Ken. Always so good.”

The praise pierces something raw inside him. His cock throbs with each word, his fingers cramping white-knuckled around the ties as his body screams louder for release. Your movements grow erratic—hips stuttering and the careful teasing you brandished like a sword dissolving into pure need as your fingers frantically rub against your clit. He cranes his head forward just in time to watch you fall onto your knees, planting one hand on his shin while the other chases your orgasm with single-minded determination.

“Such a good boy,” you gasp, and the words feel like salvation against his skin and damnation all at once. “So good, so perfect, letting me take what I need—staying so still for me—such a good boy—”

He’s never heard those words from your lips before, never heard this particular praise, never heard you whisper in such a way that it sounds like you’re in disbelief by his submission. Something fundamental splinters inside him. The veneer that he’s precariously kept around himself all night fractures with each bounce of your hips. Every muscle in his body pulls taut as he watches you, your breathless chant of “good boy” pushing him dangerously close to his limit.

Your pleasure crests like a tsunami. The bed protests beneath you both, a symphony of creaking wood and flesh on flesh as your hips slam down on him. Your voice rises, tight and pinched fuckfuckfuck's spilling from your lips like a mantra.

Even though he can practically taste his orgasm, his vision tunnels, focusing only on you. He takes in the violent brush of your box braids against your shoulders, the bunching of your stomach, the pebble of tears that gather at the corners of your eyes like the diamonds on your body. Your cunt grips him tighter, so impossibly tight, a velvet vice that threatens to rip his soul from his body.

And then you shatter. Your head snaps back; your jaw drops in shocked ecstasy as his name tears from your throat like a revelation. The sight of you coming undone above him, because of him, despite his restraints, worms itself into his memory. Your walls pulse around him, your fingers rapidly rubbing your clit to draw out your orgasm, milking his cock with an intensity that nearly destroys him. But he waits, trembling on the knife’s edge of his own release until you draw in one shaking breath.

Then he snaps.

With a sharp crack, the ties give way, snapping from the bed posts but still dangling from his wrists. In one fluid motion, he sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed, gathering you in his arms with barely concealed strength. One hand tangles into the braids at the nape of your neck while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise.

“You’ve had your fun, love. Now let me have mine,” he growls against your ear, pulling your lobe into his mouth and using the leverage of your body and feet planted on the ground to drive up into your oversensitive and still fluttering heat.

The feeling of finally, finally being able to touch you after being denied so long makes his head spin. The feel of you along his fingertips is enough to make him spill inside of you prematurely. Instead, he pistons his hips upwards, sliding his tongue along the skin of your neck as his pants dry his saliva on your skin. He’s earned this—earned every whimper, every clench of your pussy, every broken sound you make. Now it’s his to swallow and take as he chases the burning in his lower back.

You’re completely undone from your orgasm, arms draped loosely around his neck, and barely able to hold yourself up as the painful pleasure of over-sensitivity wracks your body. The sound of you in his ear, the press of your cheek on his skin, and the wet feel of what has to be drool on his shoulder, only drives him faster.

Every thrust up makes you whimper, all exposed nerves, and helpless to do anything but take what he gives. The hand on your hip guides you down to meet each drive of his cock, the movement desperate and precise. Control—something he’s prided himself on his entire life—is slipping through his fingers like water with each pulse of your walls around him.

“Perfect,” he pants against your ear, feeling you shudder at his voice, at how it breaks with need. “So perfect for me. Taking me so well even after—” Words fail him, dissolving into a heady groan as pleasure hot like ecstasy builds in his core, a tide rising higher and higher with each thrust. The sight of you so thoroughly claimed, slurred renditions of yes, yes, please, Ken, please sliding into his ear only drives him faster.

“Always teasing me,” he growls, digging his fingers into your hip and punctuating his words with a particularly deep thrust that makes you whine. “You love—you loved it, didn’t you? Making me wait—making me watch?”

Your only response is another broken moan, your body pliant and trembling in his arms, your cunt hot and thrashing around him. He groans softly, kissing your neck once before he digs his teeth into your skin. You yelp from the feeling, clenching around him so tightly that he feels his orgasm creep like a shadow at the edges of his consciousness.

“I’ll have to get you back for this.”

His threat is undermined by the pure devotion in his voice, the way his hand gentles in your hair even as his hips maintain their relentless pace.

As quickly as his ferocity comes, it fades. He has no more strength to whisper grievances in your ear, no more energy to enjoy your body before he walks to the finish line.

No. Now, he sprints.

That rubber band behind his belly button begins to fray, a thin sliver being held together. The pressure at the base of his spine balloons, pressing against his nerves to make them pulse in time with his thundering heartbeat. His world narrows to only sensation—the wet heat of you, the silk of your skin, the wet smack of his balls against your throbbing pussy, the pounding of his heart against his ribs. He can feel it at the base of his cock, tingling and tight, begging to be let loose and fill you up.

Right there, right there, so close he can taste it on his tongue. His teeth dig deeper into your neck, anchoring himself to you as if he might float away in the thick fog of pleasure. The bed screams, and the broken ties—now a symbol of his freedom—dance along his forearms. But just as he teeters on the precipice, just as he’s about to topple over the edge, you find your strength again. His fierce, untamable love presses fingers into his back, and your lips brush his ear with deliberate wickedness.

“Be a good boy,” you whisper, voice hoarse but triumphant, “and cum for me. Fill me up, baby.”

He’s learned nothing from your devious ways. Those words—though repeated through the night—strike like lightning to his core. Gone is his rhythm. Gone is his control. Nanami’s jaw slackens, a desperate sound caught in his throat as his hips stutter and fail.

His orgasm punches him in the gut, a moan belting from his throat and mixing with sounds he didn’t know he could make. He crushes you against him as he finally breaks, vision whiting out at the edges, hips snapping erratically as he chases every last spark of pleasure you offer him.

Your name falls like reverent worship from his lips, deep moans sliding along your skin like honey as you hold him through it. He’s lightheaded from you—your breathing on his shoulder, the press of your skin against him, the feel of his cum and your slick sliding between his ass. He relaxes his hold on your hip, smoothing his touch over the crescents in your skin and massaging the muscle, feral need giving way to worshiping love.

Seconds pass, then minutes. His mind slowly pieces itself together, orienting himself to reality as pleasure oozes over his skin like molten lava.

His breath is still evening out when he feels you shaking against him. You’re giggling freely, and he can smell the mischief that leaks from your pores. You’re proud of yourself; like all times when you can make him blush and trip over his words, this is no exception. He pulls back to level you with a look that’s meant to be stern, but your laughter only grows, bright and unrepentant as you card your hands through his loose and sweaty hair.

He takes the time to admire you, his beautiful wife. Your skin glows in the aftermath of your lovemaking, the subtle sheen of sweat on your neck and breasts beckoning his gaze. The curling baby hairs kiss the tops of your ears, the glint in your eyes shining with endless love. You kiss him softly, giggling against his lips before pulling away to litter kisses down his neck.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask sweetly, a smile evident in your voice as you trail your love along his collarbone.

His hand strokes up your spine, humming softly. “Never. Though you will pay for this, love.” The threat holds no real heat— how could it, when you’re curled against him so perfectly, when your laughter makes his heart feel so full in his chest that he aches?

“Is that so?” you purr, disbelieving but fully prepared for the punishment if and whenever it arises. “I don’t think you have it in you.”

He won’t rise to your taunts. No, Nanami will get you back, and the next time those tears gather in your eyes, it will be because he’s dangled you over the precipice for so long that you won’t remember your name.

But that’s plans for another day.

For now, he’s content to pinch your side in playful reproach and relish in the harmonious giggle you give him. Before he can react, you’re pressing him back into the mattress, claiming his lips in a deep kiss that tastes of the wine that you both had at dinner. He melts into it despite himself, arousal stoking to life as his cock, still nestled in your warmth, twitches inside of you, his hands sliding up your back as he forgives you without words.

Thanks for reading!!

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quarterlifekitty · 3 days ago

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Hey stepdad Nik gal here again, so my idea might be a little half baked but imagine if Nik decides it's finally time to settle down and meets a woman a little younger than him but not by a lot maybe max 4 years. He's mentioned having kids or adopting and she seemed on board with it if a bit disinterested but it's when they get married it goes downhill. He finds she was just really good at playing into what he wanted and changes a lot but not enough to leave her because well it's someone to keep the house and she's not terrible just not exactly what he thought she was. Until her daughter shows up. Her adult daughter in her last few years of college who's extremely surprised to find out she has a stepdad considering she was never even invited to the wedding, her mother's excuse? "Well you're just so busy!" And Nik expects at least a little bit of anger but his apparent stepdaughter just deflates a bit, nodding before turning to him with a sweet smile and introducing herself. He had no idea this girl existed, there's no photos of her in the house, no keepsakes, he honestly believed his wife had no children by her behavior. And he quickly sees why, his wife is fine on her own but seems to have a personal issue with her own daughter. Passive aggressive comments, piling chores on her, even restricting where she can go, in general treating her poorly. Meanwhile she's the sweetest thing he's ever met. Checks every single box of his, and she's so sweet when he does things for her like she cant fathom someone wanting to care for her or help her. He gathers from his sweet stepdaughter that she was an oops baby and that her mother never let her forget it either and had been like this her whole life and had kicked her out the night before her 18th birthday and only really demanded her home on holidays(for appearances) or when she needed money. Everything he learns makes him wish he'd rethought marrying this woman, but oh well, at least it led him to the sweetest thing he's ever met. Now he just has to go about winning her over while secretly getting things ready to divorce the mom. Stepdaughter for sure has a huge crush but doesn't wanna mess things up and that goes well until her and Nik are alone one day and somehow baking him something turns into him pressing her into the couch and fucking her stupid. I dont really know how he'd go about it or anything but my brain wouldn't let this leave. Sorry it's so long and probably not coherent but take this and do what you want with it lol <3 Love your writing, it's delicious thank you for feeding me <3 <3

I’ve been sitting on this one for a bit bc it’s SO GOOD and I wanted to come up with a halfway intelligent response

I think he’d play into your crush and just set up all of these tiny boundaries that you’ll beg him to cross. Like— we can cuddle, malýshka, but no kissing. Which moves to we can kiss, just not on the lips. We can touch— just keep it over the clothing.

Until eventually his cock is sliding against your slicked up panties, teasing your folds through the fabric until they’re soaked and sticky with a mix of your cum and his, his tongue in your mouth the whole time. And then you’re rutting against him bare— well… maybe just the tip? That would be okay, wouldn’t it? And of course you ask so sweetly— you’re never anything less than the sweetest thing to him— how can he say no?

#I’m unwell about this #writing #cw stepcest #cw incest #cw fauxcest #tagging just to be safe #Nikolai #nikolai x reader #Nikolai cod #cod fanfic #cod

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softness-and-shattering · 1 day ago

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This is also where we get into weird identity-label territory because, let see if I can express this accurately. There are absolutely Jews who are Black, who are Indigenous, who are Jews of Color. There is no dispute there.

However, BIPOC being the US/Western way of saying "people marginalized because of their ethnicity" leaves Jews who dont already fit into the above categories as by default not marginalised. And its not true at all, and it leaves us out of a lot of discussions, and resources, that in many circumstances would be right to include us.

"Gays trans and poc" is basically shorthand for 'marginalized people' and it doesnt inherently include Jews. And the problem is that modern people dont know how to handle the concept of a people colonised and forced into diaspora by the fucking Romans. We could only be called indigenous if we were colonised and in displaced in the last couple centuries. Last couple millenia, nah, your memory isnt long enough to know what to do with that, and youre so steeped in your own antisemitism that you think thats fine, that we deserve it, that we're making it all up.

And if we're indigenous, well that muddies the black-and-white water that zionists=Jews=israelis=evil colonisers, and Palestinians= indigenous= perfect and good and true and always correct. And we cant have that. We cant have Jews being owed rights, bad enough this whole Holocaust thing has meant everyones had to pretend to play nice for the last less than even a century, and youve had so long since your last pogrom and youre really desperate to spill some Jewish - I mean evil zio - blood because thats allowed right? Thats the acceptable target youre allowed to hate and there wont be consequences.

(Heres a hint. The answer is that multiple people can be indigenous to the same land, and families can be incredibly cruel to each other and dysfunctional. Hint, a peaceful solution doesnt ever involve just removing one or the other populations from their tiny land. And hint, deal with the Nazi problem at home before getting involved with conflicts half the world away).

“elon musk did the nazi salute, remember to check on your jewish friends uwu” you all celebrated when jihadi terrorists live-streamed the torture, kidnapping and murdering of israelis on 10/7/2023 but ok

#comment #as usual if youre an asshole I will just block you

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nxlozni · 2 days ago

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Nanami doesn't enjoy being mean.

He'd much rather spoil you—smatter kisses across your pretty face and treat you like treasure—his precious baby, but that might be the problem. Might be why you get so bold sometimes—bold enough to snip at him and be a brat.

You've practically forced his hand, and he's none too happy about it. He doesn't want to press your face into the pillows and keep you there with a big hand against your nape as he sinks into you, but you just have to make things difficult, don't you ?

"Do i not fuck you well enough lovely ?" Theres genuine curiosity in his words, frowning as he absently strokes his thumb over your skin and waits for an answer he knows you cant give as his hips snap against your backside hard enough to hurt.

"Is this what you wanted ? Did you want me to be mean to you ?" You're stressing him terribly, and he's talking as if you're not pinned beneath him, thighs shaking as the heat in your stomach burns hotter with every unkind drag of his cockhead against the soft nerves lining your walls.

You try to shake your head no—tell him that this wasn't what you'd been after, maybe apologize, but he seems to have lost interest in finding the cause of your little temper tantrum, leaning forward to press a kiss between your shoulder blades before pulling almost the entire way out, tip pulsing even as you whine into the fabric when your orgasm suddenly plummets

He's quick to soothe you, the soft rumble of his voice a sharp disparity to the lazy roll of his hips. "Shhhh, I'll let you cum sweet thing, i just want to hear a proper apology, hm ?"

He knows you can't give him one, that's the point.

#ink of ioah ₊˚⊹⋆#muse : kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you smut

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revelboo · 2 days ago

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OK WOW I WAS IN LOVE WITH STAR AND TC ALREADY BUT YOU MADE ME FALL FOR SKY TOO. I NEED THEM OMG 🫶 Cant wait for the next Trine update

Why choose when you can have all three? 18+ Mass displaced mech 🌶️

True Romance Pt 17

Trine x Reader

• Shivering and sensitive as Starscream’s mouth moves lazily against your jaw, your head turns at the feel of Thundercracker’s servos brushing your hair from your face. And his touch lingers, a servo tracing over your cheek. Your eyes closing when Star lazily rocks himself against you before slipping free, wings flaring slightly as Skywarp leans over you to make Thundercracker growl. And the purple and black Seeker grins down at you.

• Venting as he shifts to sit near Thundercracker as Skywarp cages you under his frame, Starscream glances at his stoic brother. Mostly surprised at his Thundercracker’s restraint. Letting Skywarp have his way without a protest just to keep the peace as always. Never making demands. Hears you laugh and looks to see Skywarp’s flipped you onto your belly, play biting your neck and shoulder. “I know what you’re doing,” Starscream murmurs to Thundercracker, while watching Skywarp. “You’re allowed to want things. To ask for things.” Instead of worrying over everyone else, trying to take care of them and not himself.

• Wings down, he watches Skywarp hook an arm under your hips to get them up where he wants before mounting you. Venting when you moan. “What makes you think this isn’t what I wanted?” Because if you belong to all three of them, you’re safe. Under all of their protection not just his. Denta working when you yelp as Sky nips at you. Leaving marks on your soft skin. And maybe he wants to leave his own mark, his own claim on you. Because he’d wanted you first. Wanted to keep you.

• Primus, you’re even tighter than he’d imagined and so slick as he ruts against you. Using a hand to brace as he thrusts. Those little gasping sounds as you rock back to meet him spurring him on to move faster. And then you’re tightening on his spike, milking him as you tremble under him. “Wait. Not yet,” he groans, wings twitching as he snaps his hips against you. “Primus, wait.” Denta finding your shoulder as he buries himself deep and releases inside you.

• Whimpering as that bite trips another full body shudder from you, feeling Skywarp rock himself against you, spike stroking before he pulls out with a whine and you slump on your belly. Thighs trembling and glaring when Sky bends and leaves another stinging nip on your hip, servos smoothing down your spine. And you’re not sure you can handle another round as Thundercracker moves closer and stretches out partially on his side facing you and gently pulls you against him.

• Servos cupping your chin, he tips your face up and brushes his mouth against yours. Feels your body relax against his. Breaking away from the kiss to nudge his face against yours, feeling your breath on him. “You okay?” He asks, lifting a wing to block his Trine from your view. Pretending it’s just the two of you and watching you stroke your fingers over his jaw and lips. Delving his servos through your hair, he wants you, but doesn’t want to push you. Those eyes look up at him, snaring him as he cups the back of your neck, a servo rubbing your cheek.

• Head tipping back and venting to cool himself off, Starscream listens to Thundercracker murmuring to you. Not yet claiming you, just holding you to him. And it feels almost like trespassing to hear your voices whispering intimately together. And then Skywarp is nudging him with a shoulder, grinning as his glossa slides over his denta. “We’re keeping the human, right?” Skywarp growls, the words more demand than question. “That’s our human.” Hearing Thundercracker laugh at something you say, seeing your fingers touch his helm, Starscream nods.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #thundercracker x reader #skywarp x reader #skywarp #thundercracker #starscream

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ohmy-gojo · 2 days ago

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jjk x reader ignoring him prank (nanami, modern!sukuna) ෆ

nanami

— you saw this prank idea on tiktok and had to try it on your beloved ken, deciding on not talking to him unless absolutely necessary all day tomorrow

— next day came, he woke you up with a kiss and greeted you good morning

— instinctively you were about to smooch his entire face with a "g'morningggg ken" but you remembered your prank and just nodded at him and got up

— confused baby but he thought that you were still sleepy

— but this behavior continued all throughout the breakfast too. normally you would sit on the kitchen counter chatting his ears off while he made breakfast, or praise his cooking skills while eating his food but today you were so silent :(

— he even tried to start conversations about some random news but all you said was "oh okay" and "mhm"

— finally decided to confront you before going to work, he cant have you being supposedly mad at him. communication is key! also bc he loved hearing you yapping

— when he finally asked if you were mad at him, you really really tried to maintain a straight face but ended up laughing 😭

— nanami immediately understood what you were up to and deadpanned

— "youre such a menace darling" "im sorry!!" youre still laughing btw

— he shook his head fondly and wrapped his arms around you, "silly girl, i should have known. now about my kiss from the morning-"

— too late. youre already all over his face

sukuna

— he was at the gym

— after finishing his workout, he checked his phone for any messages from you (you send him minutely updates, voice messages begging for gym pics and tiktoks)

— but today there were none

— he just shrugged his shoulders as if he dont gaf (he does, he's sad that you didnt send him any messages today)

— drived home a little faster that day (def not bc hes worried)

— he announced "im home", expected you to jump to his arms with a "welcome home kuna!!" while he tried to shove you off (read:pull you closer) bc he was sweaty like always

— but you were just sitting on the couch reading your stupid book, barely looking at him

— so he said "im home" once again with a louder volume. this time you nodded at him. hm progress

— even after many attempts at getting you to talk ( like 'forgetting' to take the towel so you would come and scold him, but you just left it by the door) he was unsuccessful

— you were still sitting in the damn couch reading your damned book while he was pacing in front of you wondering what he did wrong

— finally hes like "arghhh fuck this" and grabbed your shoulders, asking you what the heck is going on

— you were like "what do you mean😇"

— "why are you ignoring me?!?!" "i am not??🙂"

— after a heavy eye contact session with him you finally dropped your prank and softly laughed "sorry i was just prankin' you"

— his forehead popped a vein. "you little shi-"

— you shut him up with a "welcome home kuna!!" and wrapping your arms around him

— he huffed and puffed a lot but still pulled you closer and tighter

— but not before flicking your forehead and calling you a dumbass😭

note : i think megumi would be cute too with this prank :P he also gives silent bf x talkative gf vibes (this is one of my fav tropes everrr)

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #nanami x reader fluff #sukuna x reader fluff

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heartlesskid9 · 9 hours ago

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True! Life without home is so nice. You can look at nature, you can look at the animals, stores, what people are talking about, what people are doing. Even though your not noticed, you don't care cuz it's not gonna hurt you and you'll be entertained anyway. Life is kinda like a big, uh, exhibition I guess? It's like one where you get enjoyment by just watching things happen.

But going home? One where your dad controls you? One where mom lets you get this pain? One where your alone but you cant even get enjoyment out of it? That sucks.

Beeing okay with existing until you enter your own house is so fucking painful.

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stealingpotatoes · 1 day ago

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POTES SEMI-LIVEBLOGS KOTOR!

ive been writing my thoughts in the notes app but due to popular demand (one person asked for it) i'm posting my liveblogging DO NOT SAY/TAG/COMMENT SPOILERS PLEASE i read tags

warning im a yapper, im 10 hours in and theres a lot already (separated into sessions):

SESSION 1

whos this clown i thought i would be playing as revan

ive been too spoiled by dragon age origins this character creator sucks ass

only human???? ): fr?? ill just imagine her different in my brain or some shit

my life is being mansplained to me. is this bad writing or do i have amnesiacs

hes meta now??? hes talking abt the screen controls?????

omg a jedi and an evil jediii

omg their asses suckedddd they both died immediately

i <3 bringing a sword to a gun fight

WHY R THERE SO MANY SITH WHERE IS TJE RULE OF TWO

i clicked a workbench and it said lightsaber so either i get a lightsaber or i get a jedi friend whose lightsaber i can steal if im careful

I assume u play as revan in kotor2 so im gonna buy that now so i can play it when im done playing w this clown

i got light side points im getting a good grade in game morality which is something both normal to want and possible to achieve

everyone keeps saying revan is dead but thats my friend revan from tumblr hes clearly alive. or they???

my characters ass is distractingly present onscreen

huge fan of the way everyone collapsed drunk what the FUCK was in that wine

ok these sith ppl might be the bad guys but their armour is DRIPPY AS FUCK

ideologically i dont agree w the sith but they kinda went off w the fits

googling how to become a sith without being evil cause they have Drip

SESSION 2

i paid £1.19 to see revan he better show up in this game at some point

all these sith n i still cant find one revan….. stop faking ur death rn come out n talk to me babygirl this isnt like u….

why can i be light/dark side if im not a jedi. give me a laser sword

maybe this jedi gyal will know where revan is faking his death. or give me a fuckin lightsaber PLEASEEE

was just thinking 'does this game have romance' and then carth called me beautiful. i dont think im gonna romance anyone until i get this amnesia sorted

why is carth questioning me so much abt the crash im pretty sure i have amnesia

why tf did the jedi lady have me transferred to this ship are we in lesbians with each other???

carth's not wrong it is suspicious but i lowkey have amnesia so i coulda done that i coulda not

a lot of clone wars voice actors in this. was lucasfilm so broke in the 2000s that they could only afford the same 3 VAs for every project

mission is 14??????? we need to get my girl back in school

SESH 3

tale as old as time i fucking suck at racing games

ok i didnt realise you had to mash click i won

REVAN!!! REVAN!!!!!!!!!

why am i dreaming abt revan tho. real as hell but ?????

lmao cringe revan getting blown up. i thought the jedi beat rev-meister in a fight but no. accident

"such visions are often a sign of force sensitivity" COOL YAY GIVE ME A LIGHTSABER

BASTILLE LOST HER FUCKING LIGHTSABER??

CARTH IS RIGHT THATS LIKE DAY ONE JEDI SHIT. ok i still love her even tho shes a bit of a bitch and also doesnt have a saber

if we find a lightsaber im taking it first tho

whys carth getting weird abt me being weird that he doesnt trust me. i just wanna be friends mate

SESH IV: A NEW HOPE

'i mean no disrespect, but perhaps one of the male slaves could serve you better' i went in here to start a slave revolution and instead got called a lesbo

LMAO THERES A SPICE LAB???? WALTER WHITE WHERE ARE YOU

thats insaneee they blew up BILLIONS of people to get to one jedi?????? these sith arent fucking around theyre scary

UM THIS IS CRAZY GRAPHICS THE LIGHTING IS CLEARER/DARKER WHEN I COVER THE SUN W THE SHIP EDGE?? 2003 IS THE YEAR OF THE FUTURE

someone just called me padawan i kinda assumed i was in my late 20s do i just have baby vibes

all the jedi in the movies are so chill but every kotor jedi i've met so far has been a bit of a bitch

YO THEY HAVE A YODA!!! its not THE yoda but

cool so these guys are just the regional managers at best. your asses are not the council

why can everyone smell my force juju so strong

THATS STRAIGHT UP YODA'S CLONE WARS VA

why does fake yoda not blink both eyes at the same time. im calling him master tortimer he reminds me of the animal crossing mayor

bastila there was no need for such a fancy bow

malak is like evil aang

revan is so much shorter than malak omg

are me and bastila sharing dreams. are we both obsessed w revan

poor mission ):

WHAT WAS MASTER TORTIMER ABT TO SAY????????? EVER SINCE WHEN??? DID WE KNOW EACH OTHER BEFORE MY AMNESIACS????? DID BASTILA TELL U SMTHN MORE WHEN I WASNT IN THE ROOM???

im intrigued i like this whole hidden jedi shtick its very compelling. so is whatever theyre hiding from me

kinda surprising no jedi found me before tho given my force juju is so strong

IM A LEGIT JEDI NOW??? SICK!!!

does revan rlly not have pronouns i thought that was a tumblr thing but they straight up are a nonbinary icon ive never heard a single pronoun used. revan's pronouns are revan/revan's

damn revan seems so cool in these stories (charismatic war hero that convinced their troops to join them as conqueror?? julius caesar) and yet all we've seen them do onscreen is get blown up and die by accident

A YEAR AGO? the way they were talking i assumed revan died like. a week before the game started

master uh i forgot his name he has martin scorcese vibes said revan was a paragon of the jedi so what im getting is that all jedi gifted kids turn evil

even if i didnt know revan as a tumblr darling id KNOW revan has to be alive somewhere they way everyone talks abt them is too cool for a character who exploded and died. i think. i hope. I PAID £1.19 TO MEET REVAN

'only you and bastila can stop malak' seriously????? just us two?? ive been a jedi for like, 6 minutes and you guys keep calling bastila young???? do you guys not wanna help??

omg im getting carth to traumadump! <3

HE WAS ON REVAN'S ARMY>??

i totally knew the jedi code and did not have to google it whatsoever

they rlly said fuck going to illum heres a crystal from the bin

he told me id be a great sentinel and i was like i know but i want blue cause i dont wanna be matchies with bastila

OGH!!! I HAVE A LIGHTSABER!!!! THIS IS GAME OF THE YEAR!!!!

omg i made my lightsaber perfectlyyy which is rare <3 getting a good grade in jedi

maybe i was a travelling lightsaber salesman before my amnesia

seriously though WHO was i everyone's kinda stopped acting like i have amnesia since the first mission BUT IVE PLAYED DRAGON AGE THAT GIVES YOU OPPORTUNITIES TO RP UR PAST. THIS DOESNT. EITHER THIS GAME IS BAD (but i love it so its not) OR I HAVE RETROGRADE AMNESIA

also everyone keeps being like "Oh ur force juju is so strong" AND NOBODY FOUND ME TIL NOW??? suspicious. did getting a really bad concussion activate the force in me

im too confused and amnesiac'd to think abt anything except the fact i have a glowing stick now

FSESH FIVE:

big fan of using aliens to avoid having to get VAs to read every line

oh so carth's boyfriend saul betrayed him and became leader of the sith fleet so he has trust issues

well he needs to calm down. i can't betray him cause i dont know what the fuck is happening

yooo i love the design differences on the mandalorians

oh my god this lady wanted to fuck her droid cause it was her husband's. and then it killed itself. wtf. game of the year tho

wtf they jebaited this juhani person into going dark side but then i talked her out of it. that seems a bit mean of them

i hope she can join my party she looks too unique to be a random npc

ive been thinking and I might be going crazy but there was a loading screen tip ages ago that said jedis could wipe ppl's mind and all i thought at the time was 'fuck the shitshow acolyte didnt make that up'. but what if one of them wiped MY memory and i used to be a jedi or smthn ????????

cause they keep being like ur weirdly good at this??? did bastila steal my memories??????????

I KNOW I HAVE AMNESIA!! EVEN IF EVERYONE DOESN'T BRING IT UP BC THEYRE PROBABLY TRYING TO SAVE MY FEELINGS

if i dont have amnesia and im just deeping the fact the opening had my life being mansplained then im gonna look real stupid

anyway time 2 go to the fuckshit ruins cave where r-dog and malak went to

"it must be referring to revan. the dark lord and malak--" revan's pronouns are revan/thedarklord

bastila said theres no mention of the Builders in the archives. does she just know every text off by heart

THIS DROID IS 20K YEARS OLD ???

omg i can equip 2 lightsabers at once. game of the year

OK I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID ABOUT THE AMNESIA BASTILA IS ASKING ME QUESTIONS ABOUT MY BACKGROUND THAT I CAN ANSWER. I REPEAT I DO NOT HAVE AMNESIA

ok i didnt get choices and i didnt really uh… say anything that i didnt already get told im still not ruling out amnesia

also booo i didnt get to find out how old i was

master tortimer rlly looks like the ultimate ketamine yoda

LMAO THERE WAS A DIALOGUE OPTION 2 CALL JUHANI A CATGIRL

omg kashyyk from jedi fallen order!!!

I CAN UPGRADE MY LIGHTSABER THIS IS JUST LIKE JFO

omg this ship is fun i wish everyone had personalised bunk spaces like hfw… a game which came out 19 years after this i should probably just take what we have

im gonna start w manaan cause im p sure thats what B-dog said n its the same language the droid was speakin

omg hyperspace from star wars

THE GUY THE BUILDING FELL ON???

am i having dreams abt revan bc bastila killed revan and im connected to her this is so roundabout

maybe i'd sleep better if my ponytail wasnt clipping into the pillow

[kiwi accent] six

carth needs a xanax every time i think we're friends he stops trusting me

also lmao he actually pointed out how wild it was that a day one padawan is being sent on this uber important mission and HES RIGHT IT IS WEIRD!! i thought it was main character logic but he's calling it out

i really really like the sense of unease that's setting in like at first i thought it was just cause im not used to 2003 games but no this is on purpose bc carth my friend carth keeps calling it out

THERE IS A CHILD ON MY SHIP ??????????????????

lmao the representative for menaan is roland wann. its like poetry it rhymes

there are no cameras in the sith hangar <3 rookie error i can commit crimes now

bastila's favourite hobby is getting shot and walking into my grenades

this isnt a combat system this is a missing system

I GOT ARRESTED???? IM JUST A GIRL

nvm i had a datapad that said the sith were evil so theyve let me go free and we're besties

why do i feel like ive just walked into an underwater horror mission

this suit waddles at the speed of a penguin on fentanyl

i tamed the beastie this is like how to train your dragon

MALAK FIRED ON REVAN?????? WERENT THEY BEST FRIENDS???????

but maybe revan escaped when bastila wasnt looking THEYRE FINE THEYRE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE. I BELIEVE

so hopefully when we run into revan they'll be like agh i changed my ways cause of the being shot thing and they'll be my bestie

great news i successfully communicated w the ship child and gave her back to dantooine. my girl has shockingly good linguisitics skills

bastila is so dour "oh watch out for the dark side" GIRL I AM. I NEED TO GET THE BEST GRADE IN GAME MORALITY

ok OFF TO KASHYYK i hope cal kestis is there… thru the force i guess… bc he wont be born for another 4000 years but its whatever

omg you'll never guess what. another vision. wow its one of the thangs. cool this is a tomorrow me problem

#how long to beat says it's abt 29 hours so this is roughly a third (??) of the game???#talk is cheap #kotor #swkotor #knights of the old republic

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simonsrileyhusband · 2 days ago

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haii!! its me again!! <3

so i have an idea that has been taking over my mind

what would you think about poly ghostprice with m!reader? like ghost sharing his precious bf with his captain and they go ham on him like imagine the spitroasts..

nghh i cantt these men make me horny!!! 💔💔😔

🎀 anon! <3

nsfw (headcannons bcs i didnt knew what to write)

simon is so much rough than price, that doesnt mean he doesnt take care of you, that just means that he likes to fuck a lot and he likes it fast... and nasty.

price likes to take care of you, kiss and squeeze here and there, he likes to make sure you feel good. he also lets you take control from time to time, letting you ride him however you want, letting you sit on his face as long as you want.

on the other hand simon hates to give control, he gives orders and even when he allows ypu to be on top, he decides the speed, and if you cant keep up he will make it up trusting up to you.

simon only obeys when price gives an order, which doesnt happen usually bcs he likes to let him believe he is in control.

simon loves praise and degradation, both give and recieve. price gives both and deep inside, even if he says otherwise, he loves praises.

simon loves doggy style and mating press, price loves missionary and cowperson (??? idk i wanted to make it neutral, dont me mean to me)

when they are away on deployment they leave you a set of rules that you must follow. no touching yourself unless they allow you to, and they almost never let you. and if they do give you permission, you can only cum once and you must send them a video or audio.

price is less harsh if you disobey, he mainly says he is dissapointed. but simon gets excited when it comes to punishments, both giving and reciving.

also, when they come back from deployment you should be prepared for not being able to walk properly for at least 5 days. because when they come back they are needy.

#ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x male reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #cod smut #john price x male reader #john price smut #john price x reader #price x reader #price smut

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aupea · 3 days ago

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breeding kink carmy thoughts down below! (minors, if you managed to stumble here this is an 18+ blog only, love you but please go bye bye) also, this is kind of afab/fem!reader based ?!?

okaayyy, so hear me out on this one y'all

carmy before you had never really been one for kids. he was always so busy between culinary school and trying to maintain relationships that he never had time to think about what he wanted once he had his dreams achieved. he only knew how to focus on the present, and even that was hard.

then, of course, he met you. the sunshine to his cloudy exterior, the one he felt himself being most sane and comfortable around. he had never been so in love- he actually found himself missing you if you had to work late or travel somewhere. like, hugging the pillow imaging its you missing.

but, then nat had her baby. her sweet little girl who looked just like nat, and you got to play the role of auntie alongside his star role of favorite uncle. and when he sees you holding her, her little hand wrapped around your finger, her eyes beaming up at you-- it almost awakens something in him. yeah, he was a goner! by the time you get home, he'd been fighting the urge to drag you into some hospital storage closet. he needed you- craved you, even. he needed to feel you. you and him step off the elevator in the hallway of your worn down apartment building, though you'd made a habit to ignore the cracks in the wall and the missing paint patches. once you two are fully off the elevator, you begin. "so, that was fun, right? i mean, baby rooms in hospitals are always-" your words are cut short by carmen's lips instantly clashing with yours, his hands coming to find your waist desperately.

of course, you don't protest. you never would, but you are a bit confused by the suddenness of it all. he grabs your hands, pulling you towards the apartment, his hands fighting to just unlock the door, much less pull you inside and push it against it.

hands fly, clothes are being pulled off and disregarded. by the time he has you into the bedroom and your back hitting the plush mattress, he's tossing his pants aside. he'll probably complain in the morning about not being able to find them. he kisses you like he loves to do, taking his time with it of course. like you'd slip away and just disappear. hands roaming your body, desperate for you, desperate for it all. he doesn't even know what he wants right now, but he knows it isn't anything but you.

and before either of you know it, he's deep in your pathetic, wet cunt. the sounds are filthy, but what's worse is his mumbling in your ear.

i've said this before, saying it again: carmy would 100% be a dirty talker without realizing. the pleasure takes its way into his verbal cortex and doesn't let go. this time, it's more. "gotta get nice and deep in there - shit - that's it baby. taking it so well, doing so good f'me." he'd say, desperately sucking at skin on your exposed neck, hands cupping your breasts or your waist, stretching you out so well. "gotta make sure it all gets in there, huh?" "need to get you all filled up-"

"gotta get you all nice and filled up with me, yeah? you like that- shit, shit, keep squeezin' like that-" your complaints were nonexistent, after all. you could barely get words out, too cock drunk to do anything but let out a heavenly moan he adored and moan his name, your fingers digging into skin. he loves those marks, btw, and if he could he'd probably preserve them just to get them tattooed where you squeeze his shoulders (AND HE PROBABLY WOULD CANT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE)

and when his climax hits at the same time yours does, he's pressing his forehead against yours, angling to hit every spot. after he spills inside of you - he'd be giddy just to do that anyway, he pulls out, pushing whatever spilled out back in. "there we go. my pretty girl." he'd murmur, talking more so to your pussy than to you.

#mae after dark!#mae's naughty fanfics #mae writes: the bear ☆#carmen berzatto blurb #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto thoughts #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto blurb #carmy berzatto thoughts #the bear fx #the bear hulu

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guppybibi · 2 days ago

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part 2 to the johnny fic!

notes: this was pretty rushed,,,so it is fast paced..if u guys dont like this one i could always rewrite it! :3

taglist: @ennovi-9 @vvenus-child @msilwrites @tessakate @beatriceshadowmarvel2 @montenegroisr (for some reason i cant tag the others??) i'll try to do so in the comments

Grief was never an easy thing to heal from to begin with, so Simon has kept a close eye on you ever since. You refused to believe him at first, trying to pull out some sort of proof that you were with Johnny this past year but to your own shock, there was none. Not a singular one.

Luckily, Simon had a xerox copy of Johnny’s death certificate. The original copy was with you but it seems that it was burned to ashes based on the reaction you gave when Simon dangled it over your face.

But you really weren’t believing him, shielded in the denial you were holding tightly close to you. “Where’s the urn with half of his ashes then, eh?” Simon throws the question at you, his words unintentionally harsher than expected.

But he really doesn't get what you've been trying to convince him to believe, don't you remember spreading Soap’s ashes? He expected you to at least remember that part.

“The…what?” That was all you could manage to say right now, your voice failing you now of all times. “The urn with his ashes.” He repeats, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he intently watches your expression.

Simon starts to wonder how hard of a psychosis you went through, or if you ever took drugs after Johnny’s death. That would explain the hallucinations as well, there's no shame in it either. It's not unusual for someone to turn to substances during mourning, it's a common coping mechanism.

All Simon wants to focus on is you, for you to get better. Fuck Johnny for leaving you alone like this, the pitiful sight almost made Simon's face be a constant scowl.

Okay..maybe he was exaggerating but he’ll definitely throw a middle finger up to the sky later. Simon knows it'll probably make Johnny laugh his ass off…or worry. It really depends if he knew your current situation.

Either way, none of that stuff matters much. You have no choice but to be in Simon’s care.

He’s not quite sure what to do when you start crying into his chest the moment you two stepped into your house, no longer a home. He remains still, lightly patting you on the back as he guides you to the couch.

He’ll be here for a while, won't he?

~~~

It's been weeks since you've known about Johnny’s death, but the only thing Simon could notice was the lack of improvement.

You were rotting in bed, relying on Simon completely for you to do basic tasks. You spent most of the time crying and sleeping, an endless cycle that even made Simon feel like he was going crazy.

“C’mon, eat up, luv. I made you some soup. We're runnin’ out of groceries as well, wanna tag along later?” He offers, holding up the spoon full of soup to your mouth. Expectedly, with a disinterested look, you turn your back on him.

He sighs, putting the bowl aside. “Alright, I won't make you go but the offer is still up.” He says, pausing when he hears footsteps get closer and closer to the door.

It's…weirdly familiar. Simon could recognize people based off of their footsteps alone, but he simply couldn't place his finger on this one. As it got nearer, you seemed to notice it as well..

The two of you make questioning looks at each other. “Stay there, I’ll go check it out.” Simon stood up, making his way to the door until a certain someone pops out.

“Bonnie? Ye there? Git us some groceries.”

…Another shared look between you and Simon.

“Oh good, there yer are, lass. Simon? You're here too? Glad there's another set of hands then.”

Simon’s gaze moved to you, seeing your eyes water up with tears. But that wasn't what caught his attention, it was the hole through this…Johnny’s head.

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maplegyu · 1 day ago

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AAAAHHHHHHH PART 2 IS HERE!!!!!!!! 😭 MY BABIES!!!!!!!!!

Opening with "never kys" is wild but perfect and on brand for mingyu honestly. (also ty for the reminder kae, bsweets jewelry to kmg is what svt concerts are to me! HAHAHA)

MINGYU'S 3 STEP PLAN IS SO FUNNY I LOOOOVE HIM SO MUCH I GET IT I GET WANTING TO IGNORE YOUR CRUSH AWAY BUT WE ALL KNOW THAT NEVER WORKS!!!!

HES SOOOO DOWN BAD AND NOT EVEN HIDING IT I LOVE THIS MAN

Also can i just say reader w her replies...... like i rly get u gyu!!!!!!! I'D FALL FOR HER TOO but at the same time I LOVE HOW SHES SO ENDEARED BY MINGYU ALSO!!!!!!!! she's better at keeping things professional on her end but what i love about NFS is that it's mingyu's pov so we only see his side!!! reader could also be falling apart over him for all we know ahahaha

GYU'S WIFE 🍁 USER LOVEKOGYU I SEE YOUUUUUU

Also idk how to put this into words but the part where gyu was like is there an exchange/do u want me to post ab it... as if reader has treated him any differently!!! it was so cute but also like... very celebrity reaction, do they want smth in exchange? NO GYU SHE'S JUST APPRECIATING YOU!!!!!!! Like she's really never asked him for anything and has always just been upfront about her appreciation for him and his support!! YOU'LL ALWAYS BE K MG TO BSWEETS!!!!! BEING KIM MINGYU SEEMS TO JUST BE A BONUS 🥹

Kae thank you for the cutest sweetest 2nd part to this series. I love this couple so much and i love you for breathing life into them! They're perfect and i cant wait for parts 3 and 4 of their adventure! Our babies fr 🥹🖤

not for sale 💳 mingyu x reader. (2)

celebrity!mingyu and small business owner!reader. check out 🛒 not for sale's masterlist.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

#nfs!mingyu #excited puppy gyu i feel like thats my brand jsjdkd #i could feel his energy and excitement radiating off my phonw #HOW CAN U NOT SAY PUPPY W ZOOMIES #man idek what else to tag i just love kae a lot ok

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calcifermovesthecastle · 2 days ago

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Sharing a Moment

Tooth Rotting Sanji Fluff. Hurt/Comfort. Whole Cake Island spoilers if you squint.

2460 ish words

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of past trauma, mentions of burns, mentions of Slavery.

This is actually an excerpt from my self insert one piece google doc, but I turned it into a reader insert. Character is afab, uses she/her pronouns, and is described with breasts. I do not shy away from "controversial" topics and do not censor any of my work. this does not mean that I condone or agree with the things that I write about.

This is what I do instead of therapy lmao.

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Sharp, uneven breaths pierce through the silence that surrounds you on the island. Your transponder snail sleeps peacefully on the ground, your hands trembling too violently to pick it up.

Your head swims, and each new breath you take is shorter and sharper than the last. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, scrambling backwards on the forest floor.

"I'm gonna find you, bitch!" The words aren't real, but they echo in your head nonetheless. You press your back up against the large tree you're under, clawing at the collar of your shirt around your neck. The night seems to close further in on you.

You weren't lost. Not at first. You started out on the beach, picking through shrubs and bushes to resupply Chopper with some fresh herbs and plants. The rest of the crew's voices had faded away, dispersing in their own searches, leaving you alone in yours. The deeper you got into the woods, the darker it got, and the more anxious you felt. The more your mind began to race.

Suddenly, you weren't a straw hat anymore. Suddenly, just like that, the shackles tightened around your neck and wrists, and your master calls after you, screaming all of the horrible things he'd do to you once you were found.

Your transponder snail continues to snooze on the ground in front of you, a mocking reminder that you can call for help at any time, if you could just get out of your own head.

"When I find you, I'm gonna gut you like an animal! You'll fucking wish you were dead when I'm done with you!"

Oh, how you wish you would breathe quieter. Your head throbs and your vision swims, the lack of air and the blood pounding in your ears making you lightheaded. At this point, passing out seems like a blessing.

"Do you want your hands set on fire again?! Or would you rather I stick them in boiling oil?"

"No!" You manage to gasp out. You claw more at your shirt collar, ripping the fabric apart down past your breasts. A heavy, loud sob bursts past your lips, and all you can hear is your own rapid heart beat.

Then, clear as a bell, you hear someone say your name.

Your eyes fly open, chest heaving as you look around for the source, and stare up at Sanji, who's rounded the tree and is staring at you with eyes just as wide. Your voice gets caught in your throat, but your body almost buckles in relief.

You cant seem to calm yourself down, though, and your throat constricts again, the ghost of that awful collar tightening around you. You pull your torn shirt even further away from you, your hands trembling so violently you have to grasp at it multiple times.

Sanji crouches in front of you, shrugging his blazer off, not breaking eye contact once.

"Sweetheart, would you like to go back to the ship?"

You nod, bawling loudly. Sanji nods, never breaking his eye contact with you. He looks at you as if you'll run from him at any second.

"Okay, I'll take you home. I need you to calm down first, okay?"

"I cant-" You choke out, taking another short, sharp breath in.

"Okay, I'll help you."

Ever so gently, Sanji reaches out and pulls you close, resting his chin on top of your head. He takes your hands in his and squeezes, taking slow, steady breaths that you're supposed to mirror. It takes a few tries, but finally, your breathing returns to normal and your head stops swimming. Though you're still shaking, you're back to reality, and you know that you're okay.

"Are you ready?"

You had no idea Sanji's voice could sound so tender. Your lower lip trembles as you nod, and he gently pulls you to your feet, draping his blazer over your shoulders.

When he pulls his hands away, you reach out to him, your voice breaking.

"Don't go away."

That's funny, you meant to say "Don't let go." Sanji's eyes widen briefly, but they soften just as quick, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders as soon as he's picked up your transponder snail and put it in the blazers pocket.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sweetheart," He says quietly. "I've got you."

Slowly, he guides you through the woods back to the Sunny. You lean heavy on him, gripping the fabric of his blazer in your hands as tightly as you can to feel grounded.

"Please don't tell the others," you whisper. Your eyes swim with more tears as shame blooms through your whole body. Sanji squeezes you firmly.

"I wont. If they ask, I'll just say you got lost and called me to come get you."

"Thank you," You rest your head against the side of his chest, listening to his heart beat.

Another wave of relief floods your body when you finally land eyes on the Sunny. Sanji helps you up the first few rungs of the ladder, then starts climbing up after you. Once on board, you follow him to the kitchen, sitting at the table.

He doesn't ask why, doesn't prod more information out of you, he just sets a warm mug of tea in front of you, ruffles your hair, and gets started on dinner.

The warm lighting in the kitchen helps to soothe your frayed nerves, so you sip on the tea, mindfully taking slow, deep breaths. Sanji's company proves to be very grounding as well, so while he cooks, you slip your burn gloves off and stare at your hands.

Chopper has done a phenomenal job repairing some of the scarring. He's also helped you gain a ton of function back. But the flesh is still mangled badly, and the nerve damage is majorly irreparable. You can grasp and hold things, but your fine motor skills are gone. There's no getting that back. You open and close your fingers, grateful for the movement you have gained back.

But the damage is still there. The pain of it is seared into the back of your mind forever. you frown, lost in thought.

"Your tea is getting cold, d'you want me to heat it back up for you?"

You jump, looking at Sanji with wide eyes. His eyes go from your face to your hands, and you can see his brow furrow behind his hair. He puffs on his cigarette and sits down next to you, reaching out and grasping them before you can pull away.

Since they've been burned, nobody has touched your bare hands. You've always kept the gloves or bandages on, for fear that it would hurt too much otherwise, or trigger a bad reaction in you.

But Sanji's hands don't do either. They feel cool, and the pressure is comforting. You stare wide eyed down at where your hands are, your heart stuttering in my chest.

"You have beautiful hands," He says quietly. Your eyes fly to his face, but he doesn't look at you, he just studies your hands, turning them over in his own.

"Don't lie," You whisper. It's barely audible, but he shakes his head.

"I'm not lying. They really are beautiful." He says it with such conviction it makes your heart clench.

"Look at you, you're fucking worthless, you pig bitch. You can't even serve me right with those fucked up hands of yours. Clean this fucking mess up and get the fuck out of my room so I dont have to look at how disgusting your hands look."

"The scars on them don't mar the way they look," He continues. "They're quite striking."

He sits and admires them for a few more minutes, and you stare at him, your eyes as wide as dinner plates, your face flushed red.

You can feel butterflies in your stomach as he runs his thumb along one of the longer scars, humming. When he looks up at up at up at you, he smiles.

"I guess I just never noticed."

"Nobody," You whisper, for fear that your voice may break again. "Has ever said anything so kind about my hands."

Sanji tilts his head, puffing on his cigarette. When he speaks again, his tone is tender.

"Sweetheart, you should stop worrying so much. Nobody is ever going to hurt us again. Not like this."

He squeezes your hands, ruffles your hair again, and gets up to check on dinner.

Us?

Wait. Us?

"Sanji, what do you-"

"Did you want me to reheat your tea?" He asks, as if he didn't hear you. You blink, glancing down at your cup.

"Uh, sure. That would be really nice."

Humming, he reheats your tea for you, then pulls some vegetables out. You put your gloves back on and pull his blazer tighter around your body.

"Sanji?"

"Hm? What is it?"

"Could I have a cigarette?"

He turns his head towards you, frowning. He sees how tense you are, how shaky your breath still is, and closes his eyes.

"Just this once. These things are bad for you, you know."

"I know," You smile slightly. He jerks his chin up once.

"They're in the left pocket in my jacket. Just one, ya hear?"

You heed his words, thanking him when he lights it for you. The first few puffs you take are followed by very harsh, loud coughs, but the next few burn less in your throat and lungs. It's a nice distraction.

The rest of the crew still isn't back by the time you finish the cigarette, but you're not ready to be by yourself just yet, so you stay in the kitchen with Sanji. You finish your tea, and eat the food he puts in front of you, and when they're still not back after you've finished eating, you rest your chin in your hands and watch as Sanji continues to work in the warm yellow glow. By the time Luffy bursts in demanding dinner, you've fallen asleep at the table.

"Hm? What's she doing here?" He asks, prodding at you gently. Sanji smacks his hand away, shooing him out of the room.

"She got lost and called me to find her on the transponder snail. You get out and go sit in the lounge with everyone else for your dinner. She already ate."

Luffy looks at you, frowning slightly, but concedes to letting you sleep for now. He bounds out of the room, yelling for everyone to go to the lounge so they can eat.

You jerk awake sometime later, the shadow of a nightmare fading from your mind, leaving in its wake a sense of uneasiness and the deep seated need to not be alone.

There is no light coming from the porthole, but the swaying of the ship tells you that we're back to sea. You stand up, steadying yourself with the table, and exit the kitchen.

You hold Sanji's jacket tightly around you, climbing the ladder up to the crows nest. The smell of smoke tells you that that's where you'll find Sanji.

Sure enough, he's standing with elbows resting on the ledge of the crow's nest as he stares out at open water, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray perched next to him. You walk straight over to him and wrap your arms around him from behind.

He doesn't say anything, but turns slightly so he can wrap one of his arms around you. You press your ear against his chest, searching for his heartbeat. When you find it, you close your eyes and focus on it.

For a while, the only noise is your breathing, his heartbeat, and the sounds the ocean makes. You're grateful for how expertly Sanji seems to handle you when you're at this low point, how he seems to know exactly what you need. How instead of fawning over you, he stays collected and steady and oh so kind and tender. You tighten your hold on him, closing your eyes.

"I'm sorry," You murmur.

"What for?" He responds, just as quiet. You breathe out, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Being such a fucking mess." Your voice breaks, and a quiet whimper escapes your throat for what feels like the umpteenth time tonight. "Sanji, everything came flooding back. I'm not strong enough to pretend I'm okay, and I don't know how I'm going to hide it from everyone. I don't want to be a mess. I don't want my past to control me but it does. Just when I think I've got a good handle on it, something triggers it, and I don't know what to do to stop myself from shutting down. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

His hand reaches up to stroke your hair as you cry, and after a while he pulls away from you, squeezing an arm in each hand and crouching to your eye level.

"Sweetheart, you cant change what happened to you. And it's still so recent for you that of course you're going to have days where it's harder for you to feel normal. You're going to have days where it feels like it's all a dream, and you're still stuck in those shackles. I saw you, that first day. Remember?"

You nod, weeping openly.

"You may not think so, but you are doing so much better than you were. He cant hurt you anymore. Say it."

"H-he can't hurt me anymore."

"Again."

"H-he can't hurt me anymore."

"That's right. He can't. But it's going to take time, right? You can know that there is nothing he can do to get to you. You can know that you're free. But it's going to take time for you to believe it. That's part of healing. So don't be sorry for your bad days. We understand, more than you could ever know."

Something distant clouds Sanji's eye, but it's gone before it takes form. Weakly, you reach your arms out to him, asking for a hug. He pulls you close, careful not to hold you too tight.

"He can't hurt me anymore," You blubber. You feel him nod.

"That's right."

"I'm safe."

"That's right."

"I'm free."

"You're free, love." Sanji tightens his grip on you for a moment, exhaling. "Would you like to lie down in bed?"

"Mhmm" You sniff. Truthfully, you'd rather stay awake with him as long as possible, but your body is so tired that you know there's no fighting the sleep that's coming. "But please don't leave me all alone up here."

"I'm not going anywhere," Sanji says. A sharp wind blows by, causing both of you to tense. You shrug his jacket off, holding it out to him.

"Since I'll be under the covers," You say hoarsely, "I suppose you could have your jacket back."

He laughs, taking it and putting it back on. "I'm honored."

You smile back, getting cozy in bed. Sanji watches you, turning back around when your head finally hits the pillow. It's not long until you're out, your soft snores falling on his ears while he watches the night sky.

#🕯️. cal speaks #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece sanji #sanji one piece #op #op sanji #vinsmoke sanji #Vinsmoke Sanji x reader #reader x one piece #reader x sanji #sanji x reader #hurt/comfort #black leg sanji #reader x straw hats #Sanji #Straw Hat pirates #Luffy is mentioned #Chopper is also mentioned

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