#my sunny is always afab | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fanaticsnail · 7 months ago

Note

SNAILLL!DROP ANOTHER KILLER or /KID FIC! AND MY LIFE IS URS🙏

honestly love all ur work💛🙈

But why can't we have both?

Acid, Salt, Fat and Heat

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,600+

Synopsis: Your captain has engaged with a petulant challenge that included refusing to make port until both Kid and Law did first. Feeling pent up at sea, you set your sights on the blonde first mate to aid you in finding relief. The catch? He won't unless his captain does too.

Warnings: Eustass Kid x afab!reader x Massacre Soldier Killer, MDNI, 18+, smut, NSFW, throuple, with little plot, double penetration (same hole), facial (reader receiving), eating from the back (reader receiving), cock sucking, poor puns, poor jokes, vibrator play, swearing, pet names (little one, little thing, kitten, Straw-Hat, buttercup, sunshine), messy eating, masked sex, fingering, finger sucking, inappropriate use of devil fruit, size difference (average afab 163cms, Kid & Killer 200cms), praise, cervix touching, Killer has a shrill laugh, overstimulation, aftercare, creampie, squirting.

Notes: the smuttiest smut I have written on main. Shout out to the OC discord chat and @thenotsofantasticlifestory for their input! Love you guys 🖤

“You sure you can handle it, kitten?” Eustass Kid purred at you, reaching his right arm up to flick at your chin. His purple-hued fingernails colliding with your skin caused shivers to shoot down your spine and ignite your senses with anticipation.

Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you nodded your head slowly with your lips parted. He hummed down at you, his close-lipped smile splitting up his cheeks and his eyes narrowing to assess you further. Leaning down to a lower stoop, he hovered his painted lips above yours. The heat of his breath tingled against your skin, your body moving against its will to draw ever closer to the man in front of you.

As you drew yourself closer, the two arms of the man behind you clapped over your upper arms and tugged you flush into his chest. A soft gasp fled your lips, head tilting back and glancing up at the base of the blue and teal mask above your vision. Gulping back a soft mouthful of saliva, you began to double back on your prior over eagerness to engage with not one, but two, very eager playmates.

It had been a while since the Victoria Punk had docked at port, the entire crew feeling exceptionally pent up and in need to release their energy. Engaging in trysts amongst the crew was not unheard of, but it was uncommon. Ruining camaraderie and rapport was the main reason for the lack of entanglements, and Eustass Kid did not want to lose any more of his crew to their own broken heartedness.

Similarly to you, the crew of the Thousand Sunny were not helpful with catering to your needs. Luffy refused to make port due to the fact that both Kid and Law had yet to dock the Tang and the Punk. He was not going to lose to them, no matter how much you were in desperate need of relief.

When the three ships had brushed their hulls together, ropes thrown over the sides and knots tugged firmly to pull them flush against one another, you were bursting at the seams to at least talk to someone who was not a member of your crew. Shachi and Penguin were always a delight, and you couldn't get enough of their chaos.

However, when the blonde first mate of the Kid Pirates stepped over the barricade of the Thousand Sunny with a large pot of pasta, you were just about ready to spread your legs and have him take you on the dining table. Sanji was an excellent cook, but there was something about the blonde’s pasta that made you weak in the knees.

You had never engaged intimately with any member of the other two crews before, but the neediness pooling and soaking your underwear at the first bite of penne encouraged you to be a little bolder in your intentions. Killer was your first target to attempt to woo your way into his pants, but in doing so, it only attracted the magnetic presence of Eustass “Captain” Kid in the process.

“Fucking hell, Massacre Soldier!” you moaned, chewing back on the aldente texture of the cylindrical tubes, “Whoever said sex was the best thing invented hasn't tried this fucking pasta!”

That earned you a shrill giggle from the larger man, alongside a barked laugh from his captain a little further away. You beamed at the redhead, scrunching your nose playfully at him before the blonde recalled your attention.

“If you think my pasta is good,” the larger blonde huffed down at you, leaning closer to your ear, “You should see what else I can do with just a few ingredients.” You giggled at his comment, genuinely enjoying his comradery beside you.

“Oh yeah?” you arch your brows up at him, gently leaning in closer and brushing your thigh against the outside of his, “Tell me, big guy, what ingredients can you see yourself toying with here?” Killer twitched his head to the side, not expecting this kind of sultriness from a Straw-Hat.

Turning on the wooden pew beside you, he cupped the back of your thigh with his larger hand and gave your flesh a gentle squeeze. He gave you a little pause to test how far he was allowed to pursue you, which you would've appreciated in any other encounter. You were simply too pent up to care, arching your back and sucking your lips into your mouth to still the spread of your smile.

“See, I'm easy,” he hums down at you, “Every good recipe has four main ingredients: acid, salt, fat, and heat.” You nod along to his explanation, your brows knitting together as his fingers brush up and down your thigh before clasping around your hip. Holding your bone firmly, he tugs you towards him and engulfs your form with his larger chest.

“You think you can take my fat cock, little one?” he hushed down at you, causing your fluster to rise higher in your face. He hummed at your reaction, bringing his other hand up to capture your chin, “See, now there's the heat. You're practically radiating with it. I bet your pussy would be just as warm.” His thumb caressed the ball on your hip.

“A-And the acid and salt?” You managed to stutter, prompting Killer to raise his hand on your chin to cup your cheek.

“I think we both know about the salt,” he cooed at you, “What I wouldn't give to pump you full of my load. I could fill you up, or use it like a glaze over your perfect skin.” Your eyes widened and your body moved closer to his against its will.

Your underwear was sticking to your pussy with how wet his words made you. Pressing your thighs together for some relief, you could barely tear your eyes away from his mask for a single moment.

“The acid is where it gets a little tricky,” he traces his hand over your cheek and down your jaw once more. He gently pushed your face away from his and drew your attention towards the redheaded captain of the Victoria Punk.

“My Cap’n gets bitter and sour if he's left out of the mix.”

The amber eyes of Eustass Kid looked dangerously over your form from across the deck. Every part of him was solid and tense, the pure lust and jealousy radiating on him like a beacon illuminating complete darkness.

“You reckon you've got a way we can both fit, little one?” he whispered into your ear, the cool puff of air tickling your ear. You shudder, closing your eyes and giving into your desires with a soft moan.

“With the right chef doing the prep work,” you whimper, “I can think of several ways I can fit the both of you, big guy.”

“That's a good little thing,” he complimented you, the smile tangibly felt in his tone, “I'll make sure you're prepped for both of us. Once we're all done with our actual food, go and give him a kiss for me, would you?”

Not tearing your eyes away from Eustass Kid, you nod dumbly and slowly. Kid is taken aback by your action: cocking his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, and furrowing his brows. Darting his attention between you and Killer, he finally has the thought bloom in his mind and shoot straight to his cock.

He was going to fuck his little Straw Hat with his first mate.

And that is where you found yourself, wedged between two broad chests and grabby hands in the captain's quarters aboard the Victoria Punk. The red tint of Eustass Kid's lips finally collided with your mouth as he pressed himself against you. Desperation and neediness arose in you all, Kid's arm snaking around your shoulder prompted Killer to bring his hands down to the front of your pants.

As Kid’s tongue entered your mouth, Killer dipped his fingers beneath your waistline and immediately slipped his fingers between your glossy folds. You whimper into the mouth of Kid, prompting him to chuckle and consume your moans with more fervor. Growling into your lips, he tugged you closer to him while tilting his pointed chin up to get a better angle.

While tugged closer to Kid, Killer's fingers ground themselves against your clit in small circles. The pads of his large fingertips rocked against your hooded pearl and caused your slit to gush out a fresh wave of arousal. You parted your lips to mewl into Kid's mouth, which caused his teeth to seek out and bully your lower lips with soft nips.

“Fuck, our little one is so wet, Cap’n,” Killer gasped behind you, “I think I can make them cum just like this-...” He increased his speed, flickering your sensitive nerves with each different motion. Kid pulled his lips away from yours, a string of saliva attaching to both his and your lips with the soft tint of red paint lingering within.

“You gonna cum, kitten? You want the big guy to make you cum on his hand?” Kid goaded you, prompting you to pout at him. He removed his hand from your shoulder and pinched your chin in his thumb and index finger.

“Look at me while he makes you cum,” he ordered you, looking down his nose at you as your body continued to be worked at by Killer behind you. As much as you wanted to hold back from submitting to his request, one more swipe at your clit had your pussy contracting and fluttering with the overwhelming bliss of your orgasm.

“F-Fuck,” you stuttered, holding your eyes against Kid's as Killer continued to usher you through ecstasy. Slouching your back against Killer, you keened into his neck as he held you firmly against his chest. His forearm rocked against your chest, prompting you to buck your hips into his hands.

“There you go, little one,” Killer cooed down at you, slowing down his rocking to a steady pause. Running his fingers through your oversensitive folds causes you to shudder and mewl at the sensation. Withdrawing his hand up in front of you, he scissors the glistening slick on his fingertips.

“Fuck, look at that,” Kid gasped, his former abrasive attitude melting away as soon as he saw your essence, “Give us a taste, would you?” Killer offered Kid his hands, Kid making eye contact with you as he parted his lips and swirls his tongue over Killer’s fingers.

Humming, he immediately closes his eyes and cleans Killer’s fingers with his lips and tongue. Killer huffs out a sigh, bucking his hips and grinding his clothed cock against your ass, his neediness growing the longer he holds off from sinking himself into you. Kid pulled his lips off Killer’s fingers with a soundly ‘pop’ before looking up into your face once more.

“You need to get prepped before you take the both of us, kitten. All fours for me, would you?” Kid ushered you over to his large bed, the duvet astray and pillows askew, “Pants off, sunshine. Lemme see it all.” Killer whimpered at your absence, his cock aching and twitching beneath his pants.

The three of you were all as needy as one another, your pussy already dripping with desire thanks to Killer's earlier words, and coaxing an orgasm from you by just rubbing your clit alone. Your pants and shirt were cast aside hurriedly, your chest now exposed and nipples peaked within the cool air. Hooking your fingers into the hips of your underwear, you began pulling them over your ass slowly. The groin of the material stuck to you, the dark patch of arousal from your core painted the center and dampened the fabric.

“Fuck, you're so wet,” Kid stuttered out, his voice breathy and body immediately sauntering over to you with desperation in his footing, “Where do you want, Kil? You want our little Straw-Hat’s pussy, mouth, or ass?” You could barely register any words, arching your back and planting your head onto Kid’s mattress as they discussed what to do with you.

“Wherever you don't want, Cap’n,” he whispered huskily, his eyes hungrily consuming your body with his pointed gaze, “Fuck, that ass does look good, though.” Kid laughed at his oldest friend, clapping his right hand over his right shoulder while pressing a curt kiss against his right.

“Go put their head in your lap, hm?” Kid directed his first mate, “Hear that, kitten? You're gonna suck Killer's cock and treat him right.” You begin to raise your head off the bed, halting when you felt a metal casing cage around your stomach and hold you flush against the mattress. The ringing of belts and dropping of heavy materials on the floor indicated your two bed guests had shed themselves of their clothes.

Kid's metal hand elevated you effortlessly, your face growing more flustered as you felt him pant against your pussy from behind. Killer crawled into the bed, your hands hastily drawing his large thighs closer to you. Nestling your head between his thighs, your eyes drank in the pretty cock bobbing in front of you. Without any further word or direction, your smaller hands wrapped around his large cock and your lips found his inner thigh.

Chasing a trail of kisses over his inner legs, you ground your palm against his cock before pumping his shaft. Killer panted, his cock involuntarily twitching and bobbing with every subtle change you made. Drawing yourself up onto your forearms, you lulled your tongue outside your lips and licked a heavy stripe along the underside of his cock. Following the bulbous vein up his shaft, you flickered your tongue over his blunt tip and collected the first few drops of precum onto your palate.

As soon as you parted your lips to take his knob into your mouth, you cried out as you felt your folds part by Eustass Kid’s large, red tongue. Your eagerness to take Killer’s cock into your mouth multiplied tenfold, using him as a tool to ground yourself to the earth while the motion of Kid's tongue had you ascending. Flicking and bobbing his head, Kid mouthed at you, rolling your sensitive clit over his tongue and sucking briefly on whatever took his fancy.

You had never engaged with anyone so eager to please you with their mouth, feeling yourself truly unable to hold back the rocking of your hips into his face as you began to take Killer's cock into your mouth. Filling your lips with Killer's fat tip, you whimpered and keened around it as Kid rocked your body against his face with his cool metal arm.

“Fuck, little one,” Killer gasped for you, his hand falling down to cradle your scalp and coax you to bob against him, “You feel so good. How you doing back there, Cap'n?” All Kid could find in his coherence was a groan at the back of his throat, too drunk on your essence to give either of you an answer.

Taking what you could of Killer's cock in your mouth, you pumped the remainder of the base with one hand, while the other caressed his balls.

“Hhah-... F-fuck-... I-I-...” Killer threw his head back, bucking his hips up to fill more of your mouth with his fat cock, “...-I don't know how long I'll last like this. Fuck, little one. Who taught you how to suck cock like that?” You attempted to giggle at him, only halting as you felt Eustass Kid pull away from your pussy to spit on it. You whimpered, feeling his lips dive back in and flicker over your clit.

You had half a mind to talk to Killer and tease him, but Kid’s skilled lips and tongue had your mind foggy and clouded by each fell swipe. The coil in your abdomen began to stir and tighten to a tense pinnacle, just as Killer felt his balls twitch and draw up into his stomach. Kid’s tongue pressed against your entrance, lapping messily and greedily into your slit while humming and moaning at the taste of your arousal.

“Nghhm-... F-Fuck! Stop- I'm gonna c-cum!” Killer attempted to warn you, already past the point of halting his eruption while desperately trying not to cum in your mouth. Tugging at your scalp to halt you, you managed to shake your head and bob it faster over his shaft. “No, no, no, no, no-...” He stuttered, finally getting a foothold on your head and hastily tugging you away from his cock.

Just as your lips left his knob, you couldn't help but desperately pump his shaft as Kid has you unravel on his tongue. The coil in your stomach snapped and your walls spasmed around his tongue with the first waves of your orgasm. Massacre Soldier Killer held the back of your head in a firm cradle, his cock twitching as you pumped him. Your thumb flicked over his tip, which switched the final channel of lust in Killer's stomach and had him cry out for you.

His cum shot out and immediately splashed over your forehead, cheek, and chin in thick ropes. The milky-colored seed littered your skin in hot splashes, immediately causing you to cum harder against Kid’s face and tongue.

“Shit!” Killer cursed at the sight laid out before him. His captain's face buried deep within your thighs, lapping greedily and messily at your walls while he coated your face in his thick cum. Each splash from Killer seemed to propel you to cry out and cum harder against Kid's face, truly basking in the fact he couldn't contain himself or force himself back from that edge.

Both riding your highs down, Kid gave your clit a quick kiss before bringing himself up to the sight above him. Killer's chest rose and fell in a thick pant, his cock still proudly standing as it dribbled with the soft aftershocks of his release. Your face was riding the blissful waves of a soft afterglow directly after contorting in ecstasy. Lips parted, eyes closed, and face completely covered in several waves of Killer’s heavy load.

“Fuck, big guy,” Kid chuckled at his first mate, “There’s so much.” Kid gives your ass a gentle slap as he crawls up to hover over your back. “So messy, kitten,” he commented on your face, “Hand us a tissue would you, Kil?”

“I-... I got it…” Killer panted, reaching to the bedside table to the right of him. Tearing four leaves in hasty consecutive motions, he drew the material to your face and began dabbing at the cum while Kid rubbed his hand along your back and traced every dip and crevace along your spine.

Several fragments of the tissue paper stuck to your face, prompting you to giggle up at the big guy as he cleaned you.

“Sorry about that, little one. I tried to warn you it was gonna happen,” he spoke in a low and warm tone, “What would you have preferred, me cumming in that beautiful mouth of yours?”

“I would prefer it if you came in my pussy, honestly,” you admit with a shrug, causing Kid to let out a sound between a growl and a whimper. Kid gave you a final dab of the cheeks before giving your nose a gentle, affectionate tap.

“You'll still get some in your pussy if you want it,” Killer cooed at you, turning you to face Kid as he knelt back. His red lip paint spilt over his lipline, the juices of your release glistening against his chin and nose. Smirking up at him, you barely had the opportunity to raise your hand before he pounced on you.

Pushing your back flush against Killer’s chest, Kid rose your hips and sat you on Killer’s Adonis belt above his deflating cock. Eustass Kid’s angry cock twitched it's shaft as he caged both you and Killer beneath his looming form.

“Feeling adequately prepped for me, kitten?” Kid purred down at you, playfully nudging your chin with his forehead to push your head back to lull into Killer’s shoulder, “Or should I fuck you with my metal hand to stretch you a bit?”

“I can take your cock, Captain,” you scoff, attempting to look down at his steely shaft, only for him to push you back down into Killer’s shoulder once more.

“You say that now,” Kid cackled at you, rubbing his tip against your folds before placing the tip at your entrance, “...but once I sink in a little-.” He rocked his hips forward a little,

“-Ah, fuck!” you cry out at the stretch, prompting him to immediately pull his cock head away from your entrance. Killer wrapped his hands around your waist, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. Kid and Killer both share a glance with one another, communicating wordlessly before Kid placed his tip at your entrance one more time.

As he slowly pressed his mushroomed knob into your needy cunt, Killer reached his hands down to pry your folds apart with the heels of each palm, seeking out your clit and gently caressing it with his thumbs. Immediately your body relaxes and your hips rock against each roll of his digits in your clit. Kid sunk himself down further, eyes not leaving your face as he watches intently for any discomfort.

“There you go, little one,” Killer praised you, enjoying the feeling of your ass rocking against his Adonis belt, “Taking the Cap'n so well. Good job, just a little more.” Kid fought back the urge to slam his hips forward and immediately sheathe himself in your gummy walls. Using each fiber of his being to not give in to the temptation, he inched himself slowly into your needy core.

“You're doing well too, Cap'n,” Killer hummed up at the redhead, “Being gentle with our little Straw Hat, while I know you want to give in.” Kid whimpered, pressing his goggle-adorned forehead against your chest to hide his fluster. Gently rocking forward, your back bowed as you finally felt him press up to the hilt.

Giving a testy buck of his hips, Killer ensured both you and Kid felt secure enough while still gently rubbing circles against your clit. Kid felt your walls flutter and adjust to his size.

“Nggh-... Fuck…” Kid whispered against your flushed skin, pressing a soft kiss against the bone in the center of your chest. “...why haven't we done this sooner again?” He chuckled into your chest, rolling his head up and resting his chin at the center.

“Because we haven't been desperate enough to try?” you offered him with an arched brow. He huffed aggitatedly, rolling his hips against yours and testing the stretch. Killer braced you against him, holding you completely against his broad chest and taught stomach muscles.

“Fuck,” you keen for Kid, feeling the way each rake of his cock inside you molded you to the shape of him, “That, and I didn't think you were interested in fucking a Straw Hat.”

Kid stopped his movements, sheathing himself to the hilt within your pussy and turning your chin with his flesh hand. Your eyes met his through fluttered lids, examining his expression with curiousity. He drew his face towards yours, all prior cockiness melting away and a stern seriousness left in its stead.

“We don't want to fuck a Straw Hat,” he uttered, his lips almost brushing with yours, “We want to fuck our Straw Hat.” You only had a moment to react to the admission before Kid started properly rocking his hips into you. No more timidity, no more subtlty, all of Eustass Kid’s hulking form finally giving in to his feral urges now that you had fully adjusted to his size.

“Our little Straw Hat,” he growled into your skin, pressing his lips to your neck and mouthing at the skin, “Our spicy little kitten,” he chuckled into you, cementing and punctuating his exclaim with a crude slap of his hips meeting your pelvis. Killer let out a squeak of laughter at that comment, to which you would've laughed along with him if Eustass Kid wasn't slapping his balls against your unexplored ass hole with each heavy, deep thrust.

Killer hummed down at you, removing his hand from between you both in favour of hooking his legs beneath your thighs and raising them to your chest. Kid rose his right leg, trapping Killer’s leg beneath him and changing the angle of each stroke. You mewled out, gasping for air as Killer exposed more of your pussy for Kid to drive into. Killer never took his eyes off you, insuring you were enjoying the feeling of how deep Kid burried himself into you with each buck and rock.

As you adjusted to the depth of his deep rocking, Kid hooked his other leg over Killer's, crouching in a deep lunge. His motions were now so deep, you felt your air being pushed from your throat, and his bulge deep in your abdomen. Kid's lips parted, huffing and panting with his eyes scrunched tightly shut. The crude, squelching ‘plap,’ of his balls slapping against your overstimulated pussy was enough for Killer’s cock to twitch back to life, his own empathetic waves of pleasure coiling in the pit of his stomach.

Your lips parted, brows raising to a peak at the center of your face as you felt Kid finally hit your g-spot with each crude hook of his blunt tip. Your collective moans grew louder, all carelessly flinging them from your chests as you raised your hand up to cup at Kid’s neck.

“Fuck, I-I’m gonna cum! F-F-Fuck- I'm cumming,” Kid cried out, his cock twitching and motions drawing into a manic pace. You barely had any chance to catch up to him, feeling far too overwhelmed by the depth of his cock to properly contract around him. Hot waves of his thick release blew out of his small slit and splashed back against your cervix. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he changed with each languid thrust, falling into his knees and continuing to rock into you. You moaned with him, feeling his release coat your walls with each motion.

Killer couldn't stop what happened next, his body reacted of his own accord. As Kid pulled out, Killer’s fully erect cock danced at your entrance. Kid looked down at Killer's cock brushing against his knob and smirked at him.

“You reckon you can handle both now?” Kid asked with a chuckle in his tone. You were simply too out of it and desperate for your third release that you nodded without any afterthought. Kid reached down and pressed his cock against Killer's, Killer moaning at the immediate attention.

Squeezing his still drooling cock with his first mate's, Kid placed both tips at your slit. Using his prior release as lubrication, Kid rocked both Killer's and his own shiny tips into your slit. You have a soft whine at the stretch, but immediately nodded while bracing Kid's body against yourself. Kid moaned into one shoulder, while Killer hissed in the other. Both cocks slowly stretched your walls, the soft sting of your body accommodating them aided with your’s and Kid's prior release.

Only making it halfway into your pussy, Killer began to set a lazy pace inside you, brushing his frenulum against Kid’s and gasping at the feeling. You felt the most full you had ever been, sandwiched between two walls of flesh on a foreign ship, and taking two cocks deep into your pussy.

Kid pulled his head away from your shoulder to check in with you, sensing any discomfort from you by darting his eyes all over your face. He tilted his head at you, a small thought crossing his mind and causing him to chuckle.

“Mind if I try something, kitten?” he whispered in your ear, giving your skin a soft kiss after you shake your head in response.

“We're already trying a lot of new things for me,” you attempted to laugh along with your confession, huffing out while Killer rocks his cock deep inside you. Kid grins broadly, raising his hand and activating his devil fruit ability. Soaring through the air were six, small, egg-shaped objects no bigger than your thumb.

“This is gonna be new for all of us,” Kid nodded nonchalantly, his cock already twitching with interest while half-sheathed within you. You felt each rock of Killer’s hips press Kid’s knob against your g-spot, causing your walls to flutter and constrict both of them deep within you. Just as you felt yourself build up to your third climax, two of the objects attached themselves to your clit and vibrated them with a hard intensity. Two more were placed on each of the two men's balls as they buried their cocks in syncopated rhythm.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” you screamed, your pussy immediately releasing a gush of fluid directly splashing against Kid’s pelvis and Killer’s thighs. Kid gasped in surprise, groaning against the feeling of your walls fluttering against his and Killer’s cocks.

“We've got ourselves a squirter!” Kid laughed, immediately rocking with more intension, craving more immediately. “Hear that, big guy? A squirter!”

Killer was completely lost, his mind foggy and need for release causing him to whimper and whine out soft squeaks. Kid barked a soft string of laughter, riding your pussy through the waves of absolute overstimulation, increasing the intensity of the vibrating bulbs on your clit and his and Killer's balls.

“One more, one more, one more,” Kid desperately chanted, feeling his own release propel forward at the knowledge he can make you cum hard enough to splash him with it. Killer gripped your thighs harder, bucking up into your pussy with a desperation he had not felt prior. You were experiencing an outer body encounter, your body flooded with pleasure. Still riding through the waves of your prior release, you felt another creep up onto you.

“You gonna cum? You gonna cum, kitten?” Kid asked, his balls slapping against Killer's as they both thrust up into you, “You gonna squirt on our cocks again? C'mon little one. You've got more for me. Just one more. I'll cum with you, baby. You want that?” You nodded dumbly, feeling your body becoming as pliant as a marionette dancing on Kid and Killer's strings.

Kid increased the intensity of the vibrations one last time, prompting Killer to roar into your shoulder immediately. Hot spurts of his release splashed up and swirled against Kid’s former waves. The chain reaction of Killer’s release caused both you and Kid to cum alongside him. As Kid shot up into you, you released another gush of fluid over Killer’s thighs with enough power to splash against Kid’s stomach and trickle down his balls.

“Just like that, just like that,” Kid praised you, manicly rocking into you with each spurt of his cum dancing with the three fluids.

“Fu-ck!” you keened, crying tears of pleasure down your cheeks at the impact of your fourth release. Kid and Killer's movements stilled, opting to pull out of you and roll you onto your side. Killer tucked himself behind you, resting his covered forehead against your shoulder blade while Kid immediately sprung up and removed the vibrating bulbs from your bodies with a flick of his wrist.

Although he was wonky on his feet, he stumbled to the bathroom and dazedly turned the taps on for his large bathtub to fill with waters and bathing oils. Bracing himself against the side of the tub with his metal hand, he snuck a look over his shoulder at the two of you panting and catching your breaths at the intensity of your climax. Chuckling to himself, he set to work on taking care of his first mate and his little Straw Hat.

Filling a large decanter full of water, he managed to only locate two mugs, and three shot glasses in his bedroom that seemed to match. Opting for the matching set, he cleaned them in the sink and set them aside to dry. As soon as the tub filled with enough water, he turned off the tap and dipped his fingers in it to test the temperature. Nodding and feeling rather proud of himself, Kid returned to his bed and noticed the two of you had finally caught your breath and were almost asleep.

“Nope, none of that,” Kid warned you, rousing you from your almost slumber with a pout on your lips, “Gotta clean you up, buttercup. We stretched you pretty good just now, don't want you to regret it more than you already probably will.” You scoff at him, slowly drawing yourself away from the man behind you by wriggling on the mattress.

“I don't think I'm gonna regret being sandwiched between two legendary pirates, Captain,” you hummed at him, your legs feeling as stable as a plate of jelly in an earthquake. As you stumbled forward, Kid chuckled at you and caught you in his arms.

“You might not,” he shrugged, hoisting you into his arms and carrying you to his bathroom, “But your pussy might feel a little raw after a while. Lemme take care of you for a bit, alright?” Killer hummed from behind you both, rolling onto his stomach and rocking back onto his knees.

“M’coming too, Cap'n,” Killer nodded, springing to his feet and walking beside the two of you, “You reckon we can all fit in there?” All of you look down at the triangular spa and tilt your heads to the side. You giggle, looking to the mask-wearing first mate and shoot him a winning smile.

“I can think of several ways to make us all fit in there, big guy,” you hum affectionately at him with half-hooded lashes. He shakes his head, giving your chin a soft pinch, and beginning to ready the three of you by finding towels and wash clothes to dote on the both of you.

Filling up the three short glasses with cool water, Killer passed them two both you and Kid sitting beside him in the scented water. All relaxing in comfortable silence while enjoying one another's bare skin, you all finally felt the tension wash away and recline into one another. Finally finding a small semblance of peace between ports, you had never felt more content than you were with your two allied crewmen.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

#one piece #x reader #ask snail #snail answers #one piece x reader #one piece smut #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #kid x reader #killer x reader #kid x reader x killer #op kid #op killer #eustass “captain” kid #eustass kid smut #massacre soldier killer smut #afab!reader #afab reader

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chrollogy · 8 months ago

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SUNSET DREAMS ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

kageyama tobio x afab!reader

╰┈➤ part of house of solis occasum’s summer fic exchange for @mcdonaldsnumberone !

synopsis: The tall, raven-haired surf instructor catches your attention during a private surfing lesson with your friends but due to circumstances, there was no space for small talk. Later that afternoon, you cross paths once again at a beach club—a sign from the universe to grab the opportunity, and get to know him better. This quickly leads to a turn of events where you both end up naked in bed, and eager to explore each other’s bodies but there’s just one thing though, he’s a virgin.

content warning: beach au, surf instructor!/surfer!kageyama, poor depiction of surfing, bartender!hinata cameo, alcohol use, awkward flirting, i am making kags PATHETIC, summer fling/beach romance, nsfw, smut (mdni), virgin!kageyama, bottom!kageyama, top!reader, virginity loss (m), porn without plot, handjob, cum eating, unprotected s*x, creampie, multiple orgasms (m), not beta read.

word count: 6.3k

notes: eeeeep it’s my first time writing for mr tobio but i absolutely had fun !! i hope you enjoy mac :3 divider: cafekitsune.

The scorching sun amongst the cerulean skies kissed your warm skin, the scent of salt, and sea lingered in the air as a summer breeze blew by; sounds of heavy waves from the crystalline water, and distant chatters from avid beach goers filled your senses. It was hot, and humid with no ivory clouds in sight—the perfect formula for a quick summer getaway. The beach buzzed with liveliness; colourful hues of towels, and essentials laid upon the white sand, kids with plastic buckets, and shovels eagerly building sand castles, surfers chasing the endless azure waves beneath the blazing sun.

Just the sight of swells had your heart thumping with adrenaline rush, a vivid imagery of yourself attempting to ride the waves formulated in your mind. You’ve never tried surfing before but today was the perfect time to do so—a completely out of the blue suggestion by one of your friends, not that you were complaining. It was always nice to try new things, anyway.

“How do I look? Did I put on too much sunscreen?”

A saccharine voice to your left reeled you back to reality; looking over at the owner of the voice, an emerald gaze stared right back, her eyes sparkling beneath the searing rays of the sun. Scanning your friend’s face for any white cast from the sunscreen, you shook your head, and smiled, “You look fine, Alisa.” Taking your word for it, she mirrored your smile before placing her sunnies over her eyes. You, and three friends were clad in a rental jet black skin tight wetsuit provided by the surf school, preparing for today’s private beginner lesson.

You weren’t going to lie, the thought of braving the waves made your heart pound from nervousness, and excitement but seeing as you were going to experience this foreign activity with your friends—who also haven’t tried it before—it put you at ease; you just hoped the instructor was could somewhat save you if you happen to fall off the surfboard, and onto the warm waters beneath.

Speaking of the instructor, Hitoka spoke up, a subtle devious smile on her face as she worked her hands on her flaxen strands, deftly tying it up in a low ponytail, “I bet our instructor is hot.” This earned silent chuckles from the rest of you, shaking your heads at the blonde who just shrugged in response. “Laugh at me all you want now but if I’m right, you owe me a free drink at the beach club later.”

Playfully rolling your eyes at her newfound determination, you waved a dismissive hand at your friend, mirroring her smile,

“Sure, whatever helps you—”

“I’m so sorry for the wait, everyone! I’ll be your surfing instructor for today.” A dulcet voice cut your sentence short, it belonged to a tall man clad in a wetsuit—he looked to be around your age. Blinking twice up at him, your eyes raked his physique up, and down before taking in his handsome beauty—cropped raven hair that framed his face, and the sharp gaze of his dark blue eyes were the cherry on top; a blend of an innocent yet sultry appeal. He emanated a subtle intimidating aura, especially paired with his looming height but his voice was as soft as the first rays of the early morning, something you could get used to hearing everyday.

You were already considering buying Hitoka that free drink because god was he fucking hot—the skin tight surf suit did not leave much to one’s imagination with the way it hugged his lean build; dips, and curves of his muscles accentuated by the waterproof fabric. It was beyond shameless to ogle your instructor because you’ve completely missed his name, instead, your eyes were focused on the way his muscular legs shifted as he leaned his weight from one bare foot to another.

Next thing you knew, his sharp gaze was on you, an expectant look on his handsome face. Snapping out of your trance, you hesitantly looked to the side—at your friends—clearly unaware of what was going on, ‘Your name. He’s asking for your name.’ Kiyoko mouthed. Letting out a sound of realisation, you smiled up at the instructor, and introduced yourself, ignoring the sudden warmth that crept up the column of your neck, and to your cheeks.

After brief introductions were out of the way, the five of you headed down to the beach—surfboards securely tucked beneath an arm—to start off today’s lesson. Hitoka fell into a step next to you, hissing at the white scorching sand beneath her bare feet, angling your face over to her, you spoke up, “Hey, what was our instructor’s name again? I didn’t catch it earlier.” She looked at you, that devious smile back in its place, brows furrowed, free hand shielding her sweaty face from the blinding sun, “Why? Too busy ogling his hotness?”

Yes. But you weren’t going to tell her that—god, no, she’d never live it down because she was right.

You mustered your best uninterested expression, however, the corners of your lips were itching to curl upwards at her blatant teasing, clearly hitting the nail on the head. Hitoka briefly returned the same deadpan expression, narrowing her chestnut eyes at you before letting out a sigh of defeat, “Kageyama Tobio. Full name, even.” She snickered before going on to complain about the hot sand, and the equally hot summer weather.

“Kageyama Tobio.” You muttered underneath your breath, satisfied at how it easily rolled off your tongue—little did you know, you were going to be moaning it out like a shameless common whore hours later, as though it was made for your tongue only.

As the group neared the deserted azure waters, the scent of salt grew stronger; the sound of small waves crashing on the shoreline filled your ears as you came to a halt just a few ways from the water. Kageyama started the lesson by skilfully explaining the safety guidelines, surfing etiquette, and basic techniques; you tried your best to listen in on the briefing since this was a crucial part of the lesson but his dulcet voice slowly faded along with distant noises from the background as you stared up at his face.

Your eyes gently traced over every dip, and curve of Kageyama’s features, lips parted in slight awe, completely lost in his serene beauty as the late morning sun casted a warm glow upon his skin. This has never happened before—sure, you’ve stumbled upon other jaw-dropping faces in the past that had your heart skipping a beat or two but this was different, you were shamelessly drawn to him; as though you were a moon affected by gravitational attraction, falling into an orbit around a planet named Kageyama Tobio. Though, you mostly chalked up your absentmindedness to nerves taking root deep beneath your skin, as each minute grew closer to hitting the swells of the vast ocean.

After getting thoroughly briefed through safety measures, and basic techniques—such as paddling, popping up, and maintaining balance—the next part of the lesson was getting into the water. Despite your heart pounding with nervousness, paddling wasn’t too bad, the coolness of the wavy waters calmed your nerves a tad bit—a daring contrast from the scorching sun directly above your head.

Fortunately for you, Kageyama was amazing at his job—even though the group practised on shallow waters with small waves, getting the hang of popping up, and maintaining balance on the board was tricky, and he was there to ensure an easy experience for you. The feeling of Kageyama’s firm grip around the back of your thigh had your heart hammering as he supported your weight, gently guiding you to stand up on the board,

“Good! You’re a natural. Remember to keep your knees bent—that’s it.” His praise went straight to your legs, knees slightly buckling; it absolutely caught you off guard, almost losing balance but luckily, you didn’t let up, and tried your best to navigate through the small wave.

The lesson carried on for another hour—it went smoothly despite unceremoniously falling into the water a couple of times with your friends but this earned you several words of encouragement from your instructor which definitely did not have you pressing your legs together; god, you just hoped Kageyama didn’t notice with the amount of times you’ve done it throughout the span of the lesson—you’d rather willingly drink the salty sea water instead.

It was already late afternoon, and the summer sun was beginning to set; blue skies turned into hues of cotton candy pink, and pastel orange which casted a vibrant warm glow over the beach, as though it was a scene from a movie. The group leisurely walked along the stretch of the beach, heading for the beach club mentioned earlier. The three indulged themselves in a mellow conversation, raving about their newfound surfing skills, your mind, on the other hand, wandered elsewhere.

Gaze locked on the warm sand beneath as moments from the lesson vividly replayed in your head; you could still feel the warmth of Kageyama’s palm against your clothed skin, the way his fingers ever so slightly dug into your body whenever you wobbled a little.

As if the universe somewhat knew the truth of your mind, Hitoka exclaimed, “Hey! Isn’t that our instructor from earlier?” At the mention of him, your head shot up, eyes following the direction of her pointed finger; as your gaze shifted all the way to the sparkling waters, you recognized Kageyama’s familiar physique.

There he was in his own world, propped up on his surfboard, deftly riding the afternoon waves. As expected from a pro surfer, Kageyama’s body moved with such accuracy, and intricateness as though he was the one controlling the water—clad only in black board shorts, he looked absolutely divine beneath the sunset skies, the golden glow of the sun bouncing off his bare torso.

“He was a little too intense for me, if I’m being honest.” Alisa momentarily stared at him before shifting her gaze. “Really? He seemed fine to me. Just a little stiff.” Kiyoko responded, brows subtly furrowed as though she was in deep thought; this earned a hum of agreement from Hitoka before rambling on about how intense Kageyama’s gaze was.

Hm, you must be the odd one out because in your eyes, his personality was warm, albeit, a little awkward, and blunt but despite that, it was manageable—hell, you even enjoyed his praises no matter how flat or awkward his tone was.

The conversation carried over to the beach club located along a tranquil coastline; greeted with a mix of elegance, and topical accents, you scanned the place in awe—wooden cabanas draped with ivory curtains, and outdoor sunbeds lined the white sands which overlooked the still, azure waters. Apart from the ocean itself, the pool was also an option to swim in, offering a mini bar that you had your eyes set on.

Kiyoko, and Alisa decided to explore other amenities of the club whereas Hitoka opted to lounge at a sunbed, wanting to catch a glimpse of the sun setting behind the horizon, and as for you, your feet were already taking you to the mini bar situated by the pool. After that lengthy, exhausting lesson, all you needed right now was a little alcohol to wash down thoughts about a certain surfer that plagued your mind.

Tropical beats spilled from the speakers, creating a lively atmosphere for its patrons to enjoy; luckily, the poolside wasn’t too congested, and you were able to secure a vacant stool. Opting for the farthest corner in the outdoor bar, your eyes thoroughly scanned the miniature, azure pamphlet on the counter which contained a curated list of cocktails, and other beverages to indulge oneself in.

“If you’re having trouble choosing a drink, I highly suggest our signature cocktail ‘Sunset Dreams’! I can turn it into a mocktail if you’re not interested in alcohol.”

Looking up from the menu, and at the owner of the buoyant voice from behind the counter, you were greeted with a radiant smile that reached his eyes as though he was the epitome of sunshine; his spiky, orange hair that mirrored hues of the sky were not easy to miss, standing out against the neutral colours of his clothes—a beige linen button up shirt that had a few buttons loose, paired with ivory shorts.

The man held a metallic cocktail shaker, vigorously shaking it above his shoulder with both hands a few times before pouring its contents into a chilled highball glass, and sliding it over to a customer just a few seats down.

“So! What would it be for you?” He tapped the counter, returning in front of you before slightly leaning forward; he had an expectant look in his doe, chestnut brown eyes—a look which one, including yourself, couldn’t help but adore. You caught a glimpse of a small, golden nametag glimmering against the beige of his shirt—bold, ivory letters read ‘SHOYO’.

You contemplated his suggestion for a moment, “Okay. I think I’ll try the signature cocktail.” This earned a gleeful expression from the bartender, eagerly nodding at your choice of drink, “Good, good! You’re gonna love it! I’m Shoyo, your bartender for the night. If you need anything, just call out my name, and I’ll be there!” He pointed a finger at his name tag before working on the signature cocktail.

Smiling to yourself, you felt at ease being serviced by such a lively individual; Shoyo cheerfully greeted, and bid customers goodbye every now, and then—you subtly watched him do his job though he was part of a live entertainment.

A few minutes later, Shoyo sets a pretty, gradient cocktail before you, “One Sunset Dreams for you. Enjoy! Call me over if there’s anything you need!” Giving the bartender a warm thanks, you admired the beverage, it imitated colours of the sunset—a vibrant hue of red sitting on the base which gradually faded into a light cotton candy pink topped with two cherries on a swizzle stick, and a straw.

You didn’t hesitate to pull your phone out, and quickly snap a few photos to send to the group chat, instantly earning a thread of replies from Hitoka gushing about how amazing it looked. Before you could properly take a sip of your cocktail, Shoyo’s radiant voice filled your ears as he greeted an oncoming customer,

“Heeey, Kageyama! I haven’t seen you all week!”

At the mention of the surfer’s name, your ears unabashedly perk up. Sure, there were probably thousands—if not hundreds—of other Kageyamas out there but you only knew one person with that name, and he happened to be standing just two seats away from where you sat. His raven strands were damp, glistening beneath the golden sunset rays; he donned a plain white tee, and blue boardshorts which had no business making your heart pound like crazy.

The chances of meeting Kageyama here weren’t exactly slim given his job but you didn’t entirely expect to meet him here, let alone make friends with the beach club’s lively bartender—you didn’t make him out to be a person to regularly attend places like this.

As if he sensed your curious gaze, Kageyama looked to the side, navy blue eyes meeting your own. You waved—you fucking waved at him like he was an old friend who was here to meet with you; embarrassment gnawed at your skin, warmth creeping up from the sides neck of your neck, and onto your cheeks, resembling small, sharp kisses.

To your surprise, Kageyama dipped his chin in return before sauntering over to the vacant seat beside yours. “You two know each other?” Shoyo mused, brown eyes shifting between you, and Kageyama. The latter bluntly shook his head before pointing a thumb at you, “Had them for a beginner’s class earlier today.” You nodded at Kageyama’s reply.

“Also, just the usual mocktail for me.” The taller male added, taking a seat next to you, completely catching you off guard—you didn’t expect him to actually sit next to you but hey, maybe this was the universe’s sign to get to know the man better; how? You were about to find out for yourself. Shoyo returned a bright response, saluting at his friend before getting to work.

Despite the lively atmosphere of the poolside with distant chatters, and soft beats playing on the speakers, the air between you, and Kageyama turned awkward pretty quickly. Talk to him. Talk to him. Talk to him, your mind screamed but all you could do at the moment was take a long sip of your cocktail—maybe getting a bit of liquid courage would help you in this dire situation, after all, as they said, a little goes a long way.

Awkwardly clearing your throat, you spoke up, “So . . What made you interested in surfing?” Good. This was a good conversation starter; you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for quickly coming up with a question before the atmosphere got too silent, and uncomfortable to talk in. Kageyama met your eyes, cool gaze bringing an icy shiver down your spine; his dulcet voice engulfed your ears as he explained about his love for the sport.

Surprisingly, he had a whole lot to say about surfing—not that you were complaining, you listened to every word that slipped past his lips. You keenly watched how his relaxed expression gradually turned into something more passionate the more he talked about his job—eyes gleaming with pure enthusiasm, and the corners of his lips subtly curling upwards, it was adorable.

“Sorry. Did I bore you? I kind of went on a tangent there.” Kageyama sheepishly scratched his nape. “No, not at all! It was interesting to hear about it, really . . I think you’re really cute.”

Oh god.

Oh my fucking god. That wasn’t supposed to slip out.

Now would be a really good time for the ground to swallow you whole. Though, the only thing swallowing you whole was embarrassment, and to make matters worse, Kageyama wordlessly blinked at you with the most blank expression known to man—you were unsure whether it didn’t phase him at all or he just decided to ignore your blatant flirting altogether. Whatever the reason was, you were better off not knowing.

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as soon as the sentence slipped out. Though, in Kageyama’s defence, he didn’t know whether you were flirting with him or plainly just complimenting him—sure, he also found you cute but would it be weird if he said it back, and you just meant yours as a compliment, nothing more?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Kageyama was overthinking this whole conversation a little too much, he needed to give a response before it becomes unbearably awkward—

“Oh—um, thanks . . I think you’re cute too.” He practically mumbled the last part of his sentence but whatever, he wasn’t going to repeat it again, not when his cheeks turned awfully warm, and his heart skipped a beat or two. Kageyama tried his best to break eye contact but god he just couldn’t; he found your eyes beautiful, the way they shone beneath the warm glow of the sunset.

Maybe you were just being extremely delusional but did you hear Kageyama’s words correctly? He thinks you’re cute as well? Nonetheless, it gave you a boost of confidence, an invitation to shoot your shot, and see wherever it takes you. The raven-haired man subtly squirmed in his seat, deep blue eyes boring into your own; a small blanket of pink coating his cheeks

Was it just him or it felt really, really hot today? Even though the sun had dipped into the horizon, Kageyama felt like he was right beneath its scorching rays—all of a sudden his body felt uncomfortably hot, he felt sharp prickles kissing down his neck, and onto his chest. Kageyama had never felt this hot, and bothered under someone’s presence before—not to mention the growing sensation deep in his core. He felt pathetic, really, being all turned on from just a little flirting; if your words affected him this much, Kageyama wondered how he’d act underneath your touch.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Not the appropriate thought to think about right now.

He mentally cursed his mind for wandering to such impure thoughts rather too quickly because clearly it did nothing but further fuel the shameful feeling growing inside him—carnal desire. Oh, this was absolutely embarrassing on his end, it hasn’t even been at least ten minutes in your presence, and yet he’s getting needier by the minute.

Earlier, Kageyama was lucky enough that he was engrossed in the lesson, and therefore wasn’t too distracted by your presence—all he got was a pounding heart whenever he held your clothed body but that was just about it. Plus, Kageyama wasn’t one to muck around during his job since the safety of the class depended on him, he couldn’t afford some petty distraction, even if it meant pushing down his innocent feelings.

Though, Kageyama wondered if the feelings he had right now could be even called innocent.

As the raven-haired male squirmed in his seat once again, you caught a glimpse of the growing hardness between his thighs, the thin fabric of his shorts did so little to hide the tent at the apex of his legs—you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit to squeezing your legs at the sight.

It was barely above a whisper but Kageyama heard it just fine, a faint ‘I can help you with that.’

Maybe it was the alcohol talking but truthfully, you haven’t even finished your glass of cocktail, and it wasn’t even enough to get you tipsy—the next thing you knew, your thoughts swiftly flew out of your mouth before being able to stop yourself.

He gulped, nails digging into his palms at the erotic sight he just envisioned in his mind. Oh, god. Was this really happening right now? Did you just offer to help him with his growing erection? Kageyama’s throat felt dry. Where the fuck was Hinata with the drink he ordered? Why was he taking so long to make it? The whole situation felt surreal—a wet dream—too good to be true; he felt dizzy, and it didn’t stop there when he responded equally quietly.

If Kageyama was being honest, he didn’t hear his own words over the buzzing of his ear, and the thumping of his heart—all he knew was that it must’ve been a damn good response with your eyes widening, and lips curling up into a seductive smile, one that had his cock throbbing beneath his shorts.

It was all a daze from there, the rush of pure desire coursing through his veins, the spinning of his head; Kageyama vaguely remembered Hinata calling out to the both of you, assuming his mocktail was ready for him but he didn’t bat an eye, a mere beverage would simply do nothing to satiate the thirst he harboured—Kageyama needed you, only you could quench this growing ache between his legs.

Kageyama’s feet felt light against the pavement beneath, his flip flops scraping against it with every uncomfortable step taken. Hues of the fading sunset engulfed his mind, pretty pinks, and oranges slowly turned deep blue as you walked back to your accommodation—it was only a five-minute walk but god it felt like an eternity.

Your lips were on his as soon as the door to your room slammed shut, you swore the walls shook from impact but whatever, it was none of your concern. Kageyama’s lean arms caged you as your back hit the soft mattress beneath, fingers digging into the sheets at the dizzying kiss; no one has kissed him with this much drive, and passion before, the way your soft lips eagerly moved against his own, guiding him with each searing kiss.

Soft moans, and grunts slipped from Kageyama’s throat in between kisses, the sheer intensity from it was enough to make him cum untouched right then, and there; he could practically feel his body vibrating with lust—fuck, he couldn’t even think properly with the way your hands caressed his body up, and down, up, and down before sliding them under his ivory shirt, and gently clawing at his bare skin.

Heaven. Absolute heaven.

Kageyama moaned into your mouth at the feeling of your nails scraping his sensitive skin, trails of goosebumps forming beneath your sinful touch. And as he opened his eyes to meet your gaze, tears quickly pooled around them—from what? Kageyama didn’t know. Maybe it was from sexual frustration, maybe it was from the heavenly feeling of your nails, or maybe it was how each blissful emotion hit him like a truck, and took the air out of his lungs.

Momentarily pulling away from the kiss, Kageyama breathed out a string of incoherent words, a look of uncertainty crossing his crimson-painted face. “What—what was that?” You let out soft pants, dropping your head on the pillow beneath as you cupped his warm cheeks,

“I’m—I haven’t done this before . . I’m a virgin.”

You blinked up at him.

There was a slight pause—a heartbeat—as Kageyama’s confession lingered in the thick, warm air of the room; sweat already lined his forehead, raven strands sticking to his skin. “I’m sorry—Are you turned off?” He quickly peeled himself from your body, a rush of faint coolness momentarily engulfing you from his lack of presence. Kageyama sat on his knees, a bashful look painted on his face.

Quickly sitting up to cup his face, you shook your head, “No, no! Not at all . . Did you want us to stop? I don’t mind at all.” Now, it was Kageyama’s turn to vigorously shake his head, “No. I—I want to do it with you.” He breathed out, eyes glazed with pure lust.

You clenched your cunt at his words—just the thought of taking someone’s virginity, let alone Kageyama’s it felt like a whole lot of expectation had been placed on your shoulders but you weren’t backing down now, not at all, you were going to give him the most earth-shattering first time with how much trust he gave you.

“Take off your clothes, and lie on the bed.” As though time was of the essence, Kageyama hastily stripped his top off, shamelessly flinging it somewhere in the room. Your eyes keenly watched as his thumbs dipped beneath the waistband of his raven shorts, slowly dragging it down the length of his long legs ‘til it pooled around his ankles.

Kageyama wordlessly looked up at you, the fabric of his underwear still on him, cock painfully straining against it with a noticeable wet spot. “All of your clothes.” You added. The male’s cheeks warmed before shyly slipping it off, hard cock bouncing against the tufts of raven hair on his stomach, it shamelessly leaked of pre-cum, beads of pearlescent liquid sat prettily on his red tip.

“Good. Now, on the bed.” An icy shiver ran up his spine at the purr of your voice, velvety, and low as you pat the empty space next to you. As Kageyama situated himself on the bed, his bare back flush against the wooden headboard, he watched as you stood at the foot of the bed, hands slowly coming up to strip yourself.

What a tease.

Kageyama watched with eager eyes as each article of clothing slipped off your skin, Adam’s apple bobbing with each noticeable gulp—fuck, you looked divine; his hands ached to pleasure himself, fuck his cock on his fist as he watched you deftly unclasp your bra. Cursing beneath his breath, his gaze traced over your naked chest, eyes circling over your pert nipples, and down the valley of it. He was practically drooling at this point, rosy lips parted in complete awe at your raw beauty.

Oh, how he wanted to touch you so bad, roam his large hands all over your body, and squeeze, and rub at parts he’s never held before. Kageyama’s mind went absolutely wild, he wondered what your moans would sound like under his touch; would you enjoy his fingers on your sensitive clit? Moan his name out into oblivion? Cum on his hand?

You crawled up the mattress, situating yourself between his parted legs, just before his hard cock. Kageyama waited for your next move with a bated breath, toned chest heaving up, and down with anticipation, his hands gripping the ivory sheets beneath.

Deep, blue eyes widened as you curled over yourself, coming face to face with his dick; oh, you just knew that length would absolutely do wonders inside you. Kageyama bit his lip, stiffening underneath your touch as you circled a hand around his cock, languidly dragging it up to his tip to spread pre-cum down his shaft. Kageyama melted like putty at the first stroke, his head unceremoniously resting on the wall behind as pleasure consumed his body at the speed of lightning— he could already feel the building pressure in the pit of his stomach.

“Ah!—Fuck. T-that feels so, so good.” Kageyama moaned to the ceiling, his voice was airy, and light, a clear sign of pure bliss completely taking over his sanity. He’s never been touched by anyone before so this was a foreign experience for him; it felt different from when he pleasured himself with his own hands—your touch drove Kageyama to madness, and he was absolutely addicted to it.

Satisfied with his reaction, you picked up the pace, and brought another hand down to gently massage his balls which earned a loud whine of your name. Oh, fuck. Kageyama was floating on cloud nine, and this was only pleasure from your hands, what more if it was your wet cunt? Would he even last sheathed deep in your velvety walls? He doubted it.

As the pace picked up, Kageyama’s moans also grew in volume, his stomach clenched, and unclenched at the sheer pleasure that consumed his whole body, all because of your hands. “Fuck! Fuck! Fu—I’m cumming!” The raven-haired male let out a wanton moan, eyes closed shut, knuckles white, and muscles taut as the knot inside his stomach finally snapped. Pure bliss rocked through Kageyama’s body like never before, as though he was engulfed in a million pleasurable kisses.

White, hot ribbons of cum shamelessly spurted from his cock which coated your fingers, and wrist. Kageyama slumped against the headboard, all fucked out, and covered by a light sheen of sweat; his lips were parted as he desperately chased oxygen,

“Want you—I need you. Please . .” Kageyama panted, his lustful gaze locked onto your own; even though he just orgasmed, his cock was still rock hard. How needy. His breath hitched at the lewd sight before him as you languidly licked a long stripe up your wrist, gathering his cum on the tip of your tongue, and eagerly swallowing his essence down. It was like Kageyama’s brain short circuited—he’s only ever seen this sight on his laptop screen during sleepless nights, never did he think he’d see his own cum licked, and swallowed from one’s hand.

Was it possible to faint from such a sinful sight?

Sitting up, you inched closer to Kageyama’s lap, thighs on either side of his slim waist, and clothed cunt hovering his cockhead. With keen eyes, the raven-haired watched as you deftly pushed your panties aside, catching a glimpse of your glistening cunt. He licked his lips as though he was a predator silently stalking his prey, waiting to pounce. Kageyama wondered what you’d taste like on his tongue, your sweet slick smeared all over his mouth, and chin—he could only fantasise.

The violent thrumming of his heart filled his ears as he watched you shift your weight over his lap; this was really happening—Kageyama was about to lose his virginity. He felt a rush of every single emotion from A to Z, all things good but mixed with a bit of nervousness; what if he couldn’t satisfy you enough? What if he accidentally cummed way too soon? What if—

“Ohhhhh—fuck! Ngh—ah!” Kageyama violently threw his head back against the wall, fists gripping the sheets below as you slowly inched down his red tip. Oh god. Oh god. You hugged him so, so tightly, your cunt felt hot, and wet around him but in a good kind of way; he let out short breaths, his chest quickly heaving up, and down as he tried his best to ground himself. It was like his sanity snapped in a split second as soon as you made raw contact with his dick—this feeling was beyond cloud nine, as though he was one with the cosmos.

You bit your lip at his pornographic sounds, letting out low whimpers as Kageyama’s cock desperately twitched inside you. With your hands gripping his bare shoulders, you slowly inched down his cock, grounding yourself as the head kissed intimate parts of you that no one has ever reached. A unison of heavy pants filled the thick air after bottoming out; you momentarily stilled, giving yourself ample time to get used to Kageyama’s length because fuck it drove you absolutely insane.

“P-please move. Need more, please . .” He whined, desperately moving his hips beneath your weight, causing his tip to momentarily brush against your g-spot ever so slightly. Moaning at the contact, a string of colourful curses slipped past your lips, toes curling at the sudden wave of pleasure.

Without wasting any more time, you lifted your hips all the way up to his tip before slamming back down, earning muttered curses of your name from Kageyama. His hands immediately flew to your hips as a way to ground himself, as though holding onto anything else would immediately deprive him of this heavenly bliss.

Soft, wet squelches bounced off the walls with every languid roll of your hips, Kageyama couldn’t peel his eyes away from where to two of you connected—it was wet, and slippery, glistening from all your arousal; everything felt so sinful that it made his head spin, not the mention the bounce of your breasts with each movement of your hips. Every moan that slipped past your lips went straight to Kageyama’s cock, he was the one making you moan this loud, not to mention the look on your face—hooded eyes, and lips parted to chant his name every now, and then; pride blossomed in his chest.

Shared pleasure ate away at your bodies like a rabid animal, gnawing at your skin with nothing to stop it ‘til it reached your bones—it was immense, a toe-curling sensation with every relentless bounce of your hips; the way Kageyama’s cock repeatedly kissed your g-spot, the way your velvety walls sinfully wrapped around him like it was meant to be. Your thighs burned with exhaustion, a mix of pain, and pleasure completely taking over your body but you didn’t stop—you didn’t want to, not when Kageyama felt this amazing inside you.

You could tell the raven-haired was getting more, and more greedy for pleasure from how his nails painfully dug into your sweaty skin, the subtle upward thrust of his hips to meet your own, taking him even deeper into your wet heat. Heavy balls slapping onto your ass fuelled your desire further, the slight burn of it had you clenching around him.

“Ah!—Kageyama! Ohhhh fuck! You’re so deep . .” He closed his eyes at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue, voice as sweet as honey. Kageyama wondered if he could be a little more greedy, “Tobio—ngh! Call me Tobio.” He panted. It took all of his sanity to string the short sentence together, Kageyama couldn’t even hear himself over the loud skin slapping mixed with your endless whines.

Vigorously nodding, you moaned his name, “Tobio! Mhm—You gonna cum for me? Yeah?” It was Kageyama’s turn to nod at your gasped words, eyes momentarily screwing shut at its effect on him.

He wasn’t going to last any longer after just cumming his brains out from your hands a few minutes ago. “Oh, god!—Can I cum inside you? Please? Fuck, I want to stuff you full of my cum—ngh!” Words spilled from Kageyama’s mouth, blabbering out any coherent thought that came to mind. Truthfully, he’s always fantasised cumming inside someone, the feeling of emptying his balls, and shooting his thick load while sheathed deep inside was probably his biggest dirty secret—and he just shamelessly bared it to you.

“Yes—ah! Stuff me full of your cum, Tobio! Want your cum deep inside me, please.”

The desperation in your voice was all it took for Kageyama to snap, his fingers clawed at your hips as he painted your walls white, body stiffening under the immense pressure of pleasure. It didn’t help how your cunt gripped him like a vice, pulling him further, and further down the rabbit hole called bliss. You came with a loud moan of his name, curling over yourself, sweaty forehead resting on Kageyama’s bare chest as you desperately rode out your orgasms.

Both of you stayed still for a moment to catch your breaths, the sticky, uncomfortable feeling of warmth slowly engulfed your bodies as the high wore off. Kageyama didn’t even do much but he was absolutely spent, and drenched in sweat, he could only imagine your state, especially your thighs from all that bouncing.

“A-are you okay? That was—that was amazing . .” Dulcet voice sliced through the thick air, it earned a chuckle from you, you could only return a weak nod at his concern, your body too heavy to even move an inch. Kageyama’s soft breathing slowly pulled your to the borders of sleep but the summer heat against your skin was unbearable,

You mustered every strength to peel yourself off of him, “Shower with me?” Your lips wickedly curled upwards, hands gently caressing Kageyama’s bare chest. What a temptress.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel tired anymore. —

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

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daisies-and-domming · 7 days ago

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Hiiii! Love your writing 😘😘 wondering if you wanted to write about mammon and a little pet play with a gentle soft Dom!AFAB Mc (or GN). Have a nice day!!!

It's Always Sunny With You (NSFW)

Summary: Mammon always takes his brothers’ harsh words head on - he doesn’t care what they have to say about him! But after overhearing his brothers talking behind his back, Mammon isn’t sure how much more he can take. Sometimes, your little puppy needs to be reminded how much you love him (and just how good he is).

Warnings: sub!mammon, dom!reader, hurt/comfort, starts out angsty with a capital A, swearing, pet play, reader calls mammon “puppy” and “pup”, mammon calls reader “master”, body worship, so so much praise

Let me know if you think I missed anything!

All characters are over 18 :)

– – –

Oh Mammon my sweet sweet boy :( So excited to be writing for him! He deserves all the love in the world, and sometimes he seems to forget that. Thank you so much for the request, I hope you enjoy! Sorry that there’s so much exposition, I can’t help myself sometimes…

– – –

Mammon put up with a lot.

This much was clear - as one of the seven rulers of hell, the second oldest at that, he had a lot on his plate. No matter how idiotic, or greedy, or in his own world he acts, he does really love his brothers (don’t you go telling any of them, now!).

Which made what was happening right now hurt so much more.

He knows he isn’t the world’s best older brother - hell, he could be a pretty terrible one at that - and the way he acted 99.9% of the time reflected that. Like all the times he’s pawned off some ridiculous anime figure of Levi’s (why have it if you’re just going to keep it in the box, huh?), or one of Satan’s first edition books, or one of Lucifer’s cursed records, or-… you get the point. He certainly has a greedy streak, but he can’t help it, okay? That’s his whole shtick, for crying out loud! Sure, he tends to gamble all the money he earned from pawning their stuff, but so what if he did? He always wins it all back eventually, anyhow. Especially if he has you - his lucky treasure - at the tables with him. He swears he always wins when you’re there to cheer him on.

But you weren’t here now, were you?

No one in this family had any idea of how to have a quiet conversation; Lucifer had eyes and ears in every nook and cranny anyways, so what was the point? It’s impossible to keep a secret in this house, so there really wasn’t any point in trying.

“-he doesn’t even treat them right, have you seen how unhappy they are when they’re with him?”

“And he’s so annoying, too. They don’t want to spend every breathing second with you, y’know?”

Immediately, tears blur his vision, and he picks up his pace. Stupid Satan and stupid Leviathan and stupid stupid Mammon. Do ya even love him? He wondered, fumbling his way into his room. Was he really just as bad as they were sayin’? He curled himself up on his bed, wrapped tight in the sheets, and sobbed quietly into his pillows. He knows he doesn’t deserve you - beautiful, kind, sweet, perfect you - it was inevitable that he would lose you. He never could hold on to treasure very long, anyways, how was he going to manage to keep one as precious as you? Who would want to stay with a greedy, annoying, clingy, disaster like him anyways? You were his everything, the reason the sun rose, the air he breathes, his most valued treasure. But you had so many people around you who loved you, who could love you better than him. Hell, you have the whole Devildom wrapped around your little human finger. Not to mention the angels who flock to you like you’re their reverie, and the shady sorcerer who insisted on taking you as his apprentice. All the powerful forces of the three Realms would come to your beck and call, so why would you want to have anything to do with someone like him?

Stupid, idiot Mammon. No one could ever love someone like you, anyways.

– – –

You sighed, trying your best to discreetly glance around the table. The brothers were rowdy as always, but one voice was missing - the voice of your boyfriend. While Mammon wasn’t always the most punctual, Beel had almost obliterated all the food already, and he hadn’t even come down yet to “grace the table with the Great Mammon’s presence”. Thinking of him made you smile at your food, but your smile didn’t last for long.

He’s never this late to dinner… you chewed the inside of your cheek, worried. I wonder if he’s okay?

“-MC, are you listening to me?”

You snap your head up from your plate, Lucifer’s piercing eyes staring you down. You flush, embarrassed, and scramble to respond.

“Y-yeah, yeah of course Lucifer! Just thinking about how dinner is so good, who made it tonight, haha? My compliments to the chef, they did a-”

“You’ve said enough. I could tell you weren’t present with us, anyways.” He glances at Mammon’s empty seat, and turns his eyes back to you. “It’s pretty obvious why.”

“Yuck, you guys are so gross!” Levi shouts, sticking his tongue out. “You know that’s normie behavior, right, MC? It’s so gross how you’re ‘in love’, or whatever-”

Lucifer rolls his eyes, ignoring Leviathan’s ranting. “Go check on him.”

You perk up, looking at him, surprised. “Really? Okay!”

Without as much as a second thought (much to the chagrin of the six brothers who were present at dinner) you throw together a plate of food and rush off to Mammon’s room. You wondered if he was sick (do demons get sick?), or maybe if he fell asleep - you knew he tended to stay out late, even on school nights. That can’t be right, you thought with a frown. He was with me last night.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost walk past his door. Double-taking, you take a few steps back and rap your knuckles on his door, to no response.

“Mammon?” Nothing.

“Hey Mammon, it’s MC! I brought you dinner, if you’d like it!”

Still nothing.

“Mammon, are you in there…?”

A muffled “Go ‘way!” rings out, and you drop your hand that had been knocking to your side.

“At least come get your dinner, you didn’t eat!” “‘m not hungry.”

You twist the handle, noticing he didn’t lock the door. “Alright, I’m coming in there-”

“No!” you get the door about halfway open before a force is pushing it back closed. You throw your foot in the doorframe, wincing as the door tries to slam closed through your foot. Taking a peek in, you notice the room is dark. You can make out the outline of a blanket, strewn on the floor (presumably in Mammon’s hurry to close the door on you), and about nothing else.

You push against the door, adamant this time. “Mammon, please, if you don’t want to talk to me about whatever happened yet, that’s fine, but please, at least take the food-”

The door opens just wide enough for Mammon to snatch the plate out of your hands. You don’t even see him, really - just the blur of his arm reaching around the door, and the feeling of the door once again trying to close through your foot.

“I took the food, ya can go now-”

“Did I do something wrong?” He falls silent at your words, and you go on. “I’m sorry if I did, but please, let me make up whatever I did wrong-”

You thought that you had done something wrong? Mammon’s dumbstruck - you were perfect, you were you, why would you ever think you were the one in the wrong? Wasn’t it obvious that this was all his fault?

“...Mammon?” you sigh. “I- if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay, I’m sorry I came to bother you, you clearly don’t want me to be here.”

He can hear your frown through the door, the tears that are probably hanging at your waterline, the dejected tone in your voice. Without thinking, he haphazardly sets the plate of food down, Diavolo knows where, and throws the door open just as you’re pulling your foot out of the frame. You blink up at him, surprised, and he immediately shrinks in on himself. He knows he’s a mess right now - ruffled hair, puffy eyes, wrinkled clothes - but he also knows that he can’t have you thinking you did something wrong. He may be a terrible boyfriend according to his brothers, but he won’t be that terrible of a boyfriend.

“Oh, honey,” you say, voice as soft as velvet, taking a few steps toward him. “Are you okay?”

And you watch as he just crumples, tears flowing openly again. He’s desperately sniffling, rubbing at his eyes, trying to get them to stop, but now that the floodgates have been opened, he can’t control them anymore.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, I’m the great Mammon, after all!” he responds shakily, trying his best (and failing) to hold in his tears. “Nothing shakes me, ya know that, treasure.”

You frown at him, worry written all over your face. You gently push your way into his room, and he lets you, looking everywhere but your face as you gently close the door behind you. The gentle click of the lock catches his ear, but he’s more focused on you. He winces as you click the light on, too, and hopes you don’t mind how he looks right now. He can feel your gaze on him, all of him, tearing apart whatever walls he was feebly trying to keep up. You always knew what was up, even when he wouldn’t say it. It was one of the things he loved so much about you - he didn’t have to be good with words, because you already know what he’s going to say.

He jumps slightly as your hands reach for his face, directing it at yours. His eyes still won’t meet yours, and you sigh.

“What’ll it take for my handsome boyfriend to look me in the eye, huh?” you croon sweetly. He can see the pout forming on your lips and the glint behind your eyes without even having to look. And he’s sure that you can feel the flush of his skin under your hands as blood rushes straight to his cheeks. It didn’t take much for you to fluster him, even now.

“Mammon.”

“...MC,” he conceded, allowing himself a peek at you.

That was his first mistake. You were looking at him with such admiration, as if he had hung the moon and all the stars in the sky, and he didn’t know how to handle it. Why did you love him?

“Why do I love you? Why wouldn’t I love you?” You could tell he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but you pushed on before he could get a word in. “You’re kind, and you’re so sweet to me, and you care about your family above anything else, and-”

“That’s not true,” he murmurs, watery eyes looking away from yours once again. “They think I’m mean, and annoying, and that I’m making you unhappy-”

“Oh, baby,” you coo, thumbing gently at his cheek. “Do I need to remind you just how perfect you are for me? My perfect boy.”

He flushes, stammering as you lead him back to his bed. There’s a noticeable dent from where he laid, unmoving, earlier, but you ignore it. Instead, you gently guide him to lay down on his back, and sit to straddle his hips.

“I don’t know what’s got you all in your head,” you say, leaning down to hover your mouth just above his. “But I’m going to remind you just how good you are, okay?”

Before he can stammer out an “okay” of his own, your lips are crashing against his. There’s a sort of desperation behind your movements, and it has blood rushing down to his cock prematurely. He can’t help it, not when you’re straddling his hips and kissing him like your life depends on it. His hips buck when your tongue pushes into his mouth, and his shaky hands move to grasp at any part of you he can grab. They land on the plush of your hips, trying to guide you to grind down onto his already aching cock. You pull away at this, and he whines, a genuine sort of hurt hiding in the depths of his eyes.

“Baby, baby, look at me,” you murmur, cupping his cheek. “This is about you but that doesn’t mean you can break the rules. We go at my pace, okay?”

“S-sorry,” he hiccups, tears filling his waterline. “Sorry, I’ll be good for you, I’m sorry, I’ll be a good puppy, so please, don’t hate me!”

“Hate you? Honey, why would I hate you?”

You’re appalled that he would even think so lowly of you. Hate him? He didn’t show up to one dinner and you had about lost your mind! He had always been the sun - so bright and beautiful and charming - and you had just been lucky enough to have been pulled into his orbit. You didn’t hate him - hell, you revered him.

“T-that’s what they-hic-were sayin’,” he sobbed, the tears now at full force, “That I make you unhappy and that I don’t treat you right and and and-”

You interrupt again before he can spiral any further, squishing his cheeks between your fingers in an attempt to get him to slow down.

“But did I say that baby? Did I tell you any of those things?”

He shakes his head gently, but the babbling doesn’t stop. He’s refusing to make eye contact again, and you frown, mad at yourself for not seeing the problem sooner. He had no reason to be insecure, he was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you were just going to have to remind him of that.

“Silly Mammon,” you say, leaning down to leave a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Does my little puppy need another reminder of just how much I love him?”

His head bobbles in a frantic yes, eyes finally finding yours again. There’s something feral sparkling in your eyes, but before he can comprehend it you’re slamming your lips back on his, your hands running down his pants to paw at his bulge. You toy with his belt a bit and he whines into your mouth, hips shifting under you in an attempt to get you to hurry up.

You pull away, thumbing gently at his cheek. “Use your words, puppy. What do you need?”

“W-whatever you want,” he pants, his glazed over eyes struggling to meet yours. “Anything you want, please, wan’ you!”

You try to remain composed, but you can’t help the desperate shake of your hands as you fumble with his belt. You slip off of his lap, tapping his hip gently with your pointer finger as you shift off him. He lifts them for you without a word, eyes watching intently as you guide his pants and underwear off in one swift motion. You can’t help the grin from spreading across your face when his cock slaps against his abdomen. His tip is an angry red, almost purple, and fat globs of pre-cum run down the side of his cock.

“Aw, puppy, you’re already soaking for me, aren’t you? Sweet thing,” you coo, eyes never leaving his cock. “I’m going to ruin you.”

He doesn’t get more warning than that before you’re swooping down, tongue running up the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock. Your hands find his inner thighs and they twitch under your touch, trying to close around you as you slide between them. His hands scramble for purchase in the sheets as your head bobs down his length, taking him into your mouth. Another spurt of pre-cum dribbles out of his cock, and you suck it up, greedy, intent on making him fall apart under you.

“M-MC,” he stutters out between moans. “Master, please, I c-can’t take it! F-feels sho guh-good!”

You hum around him, sending vibrations coursing through him. One glance up at him and you know he’s already gone - eyes teary and glazed, hair messy, and one of his hands frantically fumbling to play with his nipple. You swirl your tongue around his leaking head and give one final bob downwards before he loses control of his hips and bucks into your mouth, painting your throat white with cum. You nurse him gently through it, suckling until his hips twitch with overstimulation. Pulling off him with a pop!, you give Mammon a lazy grin, rubbing gentle circles into his thigh with your thumb.

“Feeling better, puppy?” You murmur, kissing your way up to his mouth until you’re eye to eye, once again straddling the meat of his thighs.

He nods, and you frown down at him, unimpressed.

“Words, pup.”

“Yeah,” he says, dazed. “T-thank you, master, made me feel so good.”

“Good puppy,” you murmur, pecking his cheek. “Because I’m not done with you.”

He blinks up at you in surprise, and you spit on your hand, grasping at his softening cock. He winces at the contact on his sensitive cock, hands weakly moving to stop you. You grab at his wrist, giving him a warning look.

“You were doing so perfect for me, pup, what happened?” You pout down at him, giving his cock a warning squeeze. “My pretty puppy, do you think you can give me one more? Just one more, I know you can be good, hm?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, I can be g-good, hnn! So good, master, the goodest!”

He drops his hands back to his side, letting you have your way with him. Despite his earlier protests, he hardens quickly at your ministrations, tip already leaking at your touch. You lean down and press a gentle kiss to his mouth, eating up the little whimpers slipping from his maw. Once he’s sufficiently leaking all over your hand, you shift your weight, tapping his cheek to get his attention.

“Ready, puppy?”

He blinks up at you in confusion, mouth opening to question you, but you line his cock up with your entrance and slide down, and his mouth forms a little oh instead. You flinch at the stretch, but any sort of pain quickly blurs into pleasure as you guide his tip to kiss that gooey spot inside of you. Your eyes want to flutter shut but you refuse to let them, instead basking in the drunken look on Mammon’s face. He’s clearly edging on the border of painful overstimulation and thoughtless pleasure, and when you clench around him just right, there might just be hearts in his eyes.

“F-fuck, puppy, stretching me so good, aren’t you? Can feel you-unh!-all the way u-up here, baby.”

Your hand moves to your lower abdomen, eyes mean as you tap right where you feel him. He watches you with utter reverence, unable to look away as your pace picks up, hips rolling in a steady pattern.

“So wet, aren’t you, puppy?” you pant, tightening your jaw to keep the moans from spilling out. “Absolutely gushing for me, gonna squirt for me like a girl?”

He opens his mouth to respond, and you slap a hand over his mouth. “Puppies don’t talk, remember? Or did I already fuck my puppy dumb?”

Your condescending tone has his eyes rolling back and his tongue lolling out, and you catch it, rolling it between your thumb and your forefinger. He’s drooling everywhere, little unh unh unh!s and masther!s slipping from his mouth. You tug on his tongue a bit, and you look him right in the eye as you spit into his mouth and let him choke on it a bit. When his eyes start to roll again, you let go, and watch him greedily swallow the mix of your spits.

“Say thank you, puppy.”

“W-woof!” he responds, and you give him a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss in return.

“Good boy, remembering my rules. How about you play with your pretty nipples as a reward, hm? And then maybe I’ll think about letting you cum.”

His head bobbles as he nods, hands messily sliding up to toy with his nipples. He rolls them between his fingers, tugging, and you see his abdomen tense as he holds back from bucking up into your soft, wet heat.

You’re not doing much better, and when his tip kisses that sweet spot inside you again, you feel yourself start to unwind. You lose your pace, desperately chasing your high as your insides spasm around him.

“C-come undone with me puppy, c’mon, won’t you-ahn!-be good for me? My best boy. You c-can cum, fuck fuck fuck! Cum.”

At your command, he lets go, filling your insides with his warm cum. You shake around him, prying your heavy eyes open to look at the blissed out expression on his face. His cheeks are streaked with dried tears and drool, and the most delicious flush spreads all the way down his chest. You run a hand through his matted hair as he comes down from his second orgasm of the night, extremely pleased with how he wearily blinks at you, eyes unfocused.

You wince as you pull off of him, and his cum weakly dribbles out of your entrance. You roll over to lay next to him, making sure to slip your hand into his.

You’re both absolutely disgusting - smelling of sex and covered in the evidence - but you bring his hand to your face anyways, gently kissing his knuckles.

“You know I love you more than anything, right?” You say, almost so quietly he misses it, “I hate that even for a second you doubted that.”

He tries to stop the feeling bubbling to his chest, but it’s hard to ignore when you nuzzle your face into his neck. He’s never really had the luxury to love like this, since he’s fallen to the Devildom, and it fills him with an inexplicable warmth. He rolls to face you, and he stiffens as your eyes find his.

“‘m sorry I made you worry,” he says, slinging an arm over you and pulling you closer. “I just…I’m not the best person, y’know? So I figured you finally saw that.”

You nip at the juncture when his neck meets his shoulder and he yelps.

“Don’t talk about my boyfriend like that. He’s the kindest, most loving, most exciting person to be around, and I’m the one who’s lucky to have him.”

The fierceness in your gaze catches him by surprise - why would you care so much? Sure, he’s the Great Mammon, but under all of his pizazz, he was just a boring, regular demon. Lucifer is influential, Leviathan is passionate, Satan is smart, Asmo is beautiful, Beel is strong, and Belphie (despite his brat behavior) is soft and sweet. But he didn’t bring anything to the table, not like they did.

“Stop that,” you say, louder this time.

“Get out of your head and look at me. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. You’re not annoying, and your brothers don’t know how much you do for them when they’re not looking. You’re an amazing brother, and the perfect partner. I love you, okay? I love you so much, my Mammon.”

“I love ya too, MC. Thank you for remindin’ me,” he huffs out, embarrassed at the tears springing to his eyes again.

He sniffles, hiding his head into your hair and pulling you closer. You hold him just as tight, and he drifts off in your arms, the tension of the day slipping away in your embrace.

– – –

“Do you think Mammon is okay?”

Lucifer glances up from his place at his desk, glasses crooked and face a little flushed. He tries his best to subtly adjust himself, and rubs at his temples, exasperated. Sometimes, being aware of everything happening in the house was more of a curse than a blessing. Your voice as you cooed at his brother was going to stick with him for eons to come.

“I can assure you, Leviathan, he is more than okay.”

Word Count: 3897

#daisy writes<3 #romance without the paywall #why pay 30 dollars when i can write the smut myself?#dom!reader #dom reader #obey me smut #sub obey me #obey me #sub!mammon #sub mammon #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #mammon smut #obey me mammon #mammon my beloved #obey me x reader #obey me swd

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luffington · 8 months ago

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love ur fics sm 😄 can i request dom!sanji x reader smut where reader is a strawhat ? i love sub!sanji but there’s suck a lack of dom!sanji in the fandom it pains meee , thank u !!!!

➤ pairing: vinsmoke sanji x afab!reader

➤ word count: 1.8k

➤ warnings: soft dom!sanji, overstimulation, praise kink, oral (f receiving), established relationship, aftercare, fem reader

aww thank you :') i feel the same way!! i wanna step on him as much as the next person but i need a little variety sometimes...

this was honestly kinda hard to write bc sanji would never hurt his partner (especially a fem reader) but pleasure doms exist for a reason! i hope i stayed true to his character and still fulfilled your request <3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

The Sunny’s kitchen was filled with the mouth-watering scent of vegetables sautéed with fragrant herbs. A rare fish caught by Brook earlier that day simmered in a pan next to them on the stove. Sanji was completely engrossed in his work, carefully monitoring every component and regularly taste-testing everything. Watching him cook was always fascinating, but you weren’t in the mood that day. You closed the door rather loudly behind you to catch your boyfriend’s attention.

“Hello, my love!” His serious demeanor changed as soon as he saw you. “Are you hungry? Sorry, I should’ve started cooking earlier. Didn’t realize how long this fish took to prepare. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, can you please tell the rest of the crew?”

Food was the last thing on your mind. You were needy. It had been almost four days since the last time you and Sanji had sex, and not by choice. Some infamous pirate had pissed Luffy off, and your entire crew inevitably ended up in a heated battle with his minions. The two of you were too exhausted by the end for even a quick fuck. As soon as Chopper finished patching up your injuries, you crawled into bed and passed out.

“Sanji, I’m horny,” you whined.

His face turned almost as red as the blood that trickled from his nose. “...Five. Five minutes.”

He would’ve dropped everything and immediately sprinted to your bed if he had been doing anything else.

Nothing was stopping you from masturbating, of course – nothing except your boyfriend acting like a kicked puppy if he didn’t get to watch. He loved sitting just out of your reach, jerking himself off and watching you touch yourself. Sometimes he gave you instructions. Sanji wanted every ounce of your pleasure to be inseparable from him.

So he suffered through dinner, impatiently tapping his foot and barely participating in the conversation, glancing at you every five seconds. The moment everyone finished eating, he flew out the door with you stumbling behind. Nami and Robin knew to stay far away from the women’s quarters for the next few hours.

Sanji was a menace in the bedroom – in his own gentlemanly way. He would never lay a hand on you that wasn’t filled with love. Nothing in the world could convince him to degrade, restrain, or discipline you, even if you asked for it. He lived to serve and care for others, and he went above and beyond for you. Not satisfied until pleasure burned through you like a cigarette and you were absolutely blissed out, mumbling his name over and over like a prayer.

As soon as you were alone with the door securely locked behind you, the blonde climbed on top of you and kissed you passionately, groaning when you wrapped your arms around him to pull him closer. Loved the feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair, the taste of his food lingering on your tongue. He only pulled away from devouring your mouth to promise that he'd take such good care of you. He always stayed true to his word.

Strong hands slipped under your shirt to fondle your tits and tweak your nipples, his tongue still shoved down your throat. Sanji gently removed your top, then mouthed along your throat and sternum until his lips wrapped around your nipple. He echoed your moan and murmured, "Make more pretty sounds like that, my angel. Show me how much you need this."

Filthy wet noises filled the room as he intently sucked your hardened bud and rolled the other between his fingers. Hearing you whimper ‘Sanji’ lit a fire inside him and he palmed the growing bulge in his slacks. You ached to feel his heavy cock on your tongue or stretch out your cunt, but your boyfriend had the patience of a saint. You always came first – literally and figuratively.

He slid your pants and undies down your legs and teasingly kissed from your ankle to your inner thigh, leaving behind a few playful bite marks carefully soothed by his lips. Mumbled something cheesy about needing his dessert after a meal, which made you roll your eyes affectionately. The man couldn’t resist his food metaphors.

“Aww, don’t give me that look, darling,” he purred, resting his cheek on your hipbone with a dreamy expression. “Your pussy really is that delicious, so sweet and wet for me.” Pressed a chaste kiss below your navel then dove between your legs without a second thought.

The blonde licked along your slit with the flat of his tongue, groaning deep in his chest when he realized how wet you already were. He would never rush through eating an opulent dessert, needing to take it slowly and savor every little taste. So he focused entirely on your clit, swirling his wet muscle around it then sucking intently. Electric shocks tingled down your spine and heat rapidly ignited your core. Four days was objectively a short time to go without sex, but you were already embarrassingly close after only a few minutes of his mouth on your cunt. You didn’t even need to warn your boyfriend of your impending orgasm – he easily recognized the signs. Knew your body even better than you did.

You came with a cry of his name, your back arching off the bed and thighs clamping around his head. Sanji continued to lick your cunt the entire time, humming happily as he slurped every drop of your juices. After a few moments of riding out your ecstasy, you realized he wasn’t stopping. He didn’t even slow down.

Overwhelmed by the sensations, you tried to protest, though you didn’t actually want him to stop. Your body could only handle so much, especially since your muscles were still sore from fighting the previous day. He paid you no mind, gently assuring you that he only wanted to help you and make you feel good (which was true, but he was also rock hard from tasting your cunt, grinding his hips against the mattress like a horny teenager). Plus, you could use your safe word at any time – he reminded you of that several times a week.

Sanji suddenly lifted your legs and folded your body in half until your ankles were next to your ears, wet pussy on full display. Your boyfriend was absolutely drunk off of your cunt, but he needed to watch your reaction. Seeing your eyes roll back into your skull for him, your cheeks red and lips parted, was absolutely stunning. His nose insistently rubbed against your clit as his tongue shoved its way inside you, lapping at your wet walls. You gripped the sheets with white knuckles and squirmed at the feeling of his beard rubbing at your sensitive skin. Stars flashed across your vision as you came again, legs trembling mid-air.

The blonde hummed happily and swiped a finger through your slick, making your oversensitive body jolt, then brought it to your lips. “Taste.” A gentle command with no real backing, but a command nonetheless. You happily sucked it into your mouth, obsessed with how his visible eye darkened with lust when your cheeks hollowed around the digit. “That’s a good girl. My perfect girl.”

That finger, now wet with your spit, traveled back between your legs to circle your hole. He had a look of fiery determination as he settled his body over you, leaning on one elbow. “I would never let my princess only cum once.”

There was no stopping him until he decided you were satisfied. In a quiet voice, you reminded him that you actually came twice, but it made no difference to either of you.

He expertly scissored your insides apart and massaged your wet walls. You begged him to let you take care of his noticeable bulge, precum beginning to stain the outer layer of his pants – somehow, he was still fully clothed. He shook his head and insisted that he was alright, that you mattered more. You came to him for help, after all.

Sanji only gave you a few minutes of reprieve after your third orgasm, choosing to make out with you languidly and try (but fail) to stop himself from grinding against your thigh, desperate for any sort of friction. Your boyfriend obviously didn’t have the sexual stamina of a god, especially when it came to who he declared to be the most beautiful woman in all of existence. He just liked edging himself.

Tears pricked at your eyes when he shoved his head between your thighs again, scissoring you open to keep licking at your sweet hole.

The first time Sanji made you cry from too many orgasms felt like a knife to his chest. He had immediately pulled his cock out of you and cupped your face cautiously like you were made of glass. Apologizing endlessly, already spiraling into self-hatred and mourning the loss of the best relationship he would ever have. You shook your head and told him they were happy tears. He seemed very confused and no less mortified, so you explained that he was making you feel so fucking good that you lost control of your body. That shut him up immediately.

Sanji paused his movements for a moment to ask, “Happy tears?” You nodded eagerly and he cooed at you, wiping away the droplets and telling you how incredible and beautiful you are, promising that you just needed to hang on a little longer. He would never enjoy seeing you cry, but he trusted that you knew your limits.

You nearly blacked out when a fourth orgasm washed over you, but were pulled back to consciousness by Sanji’s soft lips against yours. He really did let you relax this time, caressing the top of your head and kissing every inch of your face, focusing on the drying tears staining your cheeks. Asked if you wanted a glass of water, a gentle massage – anything. You refused, so he rested his head on your chest to feel your rapid heartbeat slow down and your lungs relax.

“Are you satisfied, my dear?”

“Definitely. But you aren’t.” You frowned, shifting against his clothed cock to feel it twitch helplessly against your leg.

Sanji bit back a moan and forced a gentle smile. “Just let me know when you’re ready for more. I can wait minutes, or hours, or even days – it’s completely up to you.”

You shook your head, smirking as you tugged on the waistband of his pants. “Four days was long enough.” Zipping down his fly at a slow, teasing pace, then lightly rubbing the head of his cock through his boxers. “Stop being so humble and let me suck your dick.”

Hearts filled his eyes. “I would never deny my angel what she wants.”

#sanji is a very good boy i don't wanna mischaracterize him #mine #my fics #request #newnlovesjennie #sanji smut #vinsmoke sanji smut #black leg sanji smut #dom!sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji imagine #one piece x reader #one piece smut #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji

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dollcher · 2 days ago

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PAIR﹙ ♡ ﹚─── 𝓡oronoa 𝓩oro

𝓢UMMARY ｡ zoro thinks of what could be the best present to show how much you mean to him.

ワンピース & fluff ୨୧ afab!reader. established relationship. zoro is just an awkward sweetheart.

❛ notes ❜ . . i so believe he would do this for you when your relationship was becoming serious & it makes my heart melt <3

the attraction and fondness you and the swordsman held for one another had been well-known amongst the straw hat crew, yet it was months before zoro had mustered up the valour to officially ask you to change your relationship to one of romance. when you had accepted his pursuits, the storm that had been brewing inside him had calmed, his entire body softening with your simple words of acceptance.

three months had gone by since his proposal and he truly hadn't ever believed someone could bring in such wonder and adoration into his life. with each passing day, you proved that that belief he held so firmly before was crumbling down – and to his unforeseen, fortuitous delight, he did not complain about the hold you had on him. the hardy green-haired man would instantly turn to mush around you and he knew he was wrapped around your dainty fingers. whatever you asked of him, he would do it for you, no matter how silly and daffy it might have sounded.

unlike him, you were quite open about your affection towards him. whenever you would wake, you gave him a tender peck to his lips as you muttered a soft 'good morning'; you would routinely bring him a tray of fruits and water after his intense workout sessions; you would comb your fingers through his green locks as you babbled about one of your interests, an action he found grand comfort in.

as zoro roamed alone in the streets of the new island the crew had docked at last night, he was mulling over what he could get you to display the heart he carried for you. but that was proving to be a much more arduous task than he had anticipated. what sort of present could convey how deep his emotions ran for you? truly, nothing would ever seem enough for you – even the most lavish diamond in the world couldn't compare to a gem like you in his eyes.

the sky was starting to taint itself with a dark purple hue, a sign of nightfall approaching soon. he knew he would need to hurry back to the thousand sunny, otherwise he wouldn't hear the end of your censure for getting back so late. despite your sweet temperament, you were rather scary when angered – more than nami at times and that was saying something.

just as zoro felt like giving up on his search, a small shop came into view. the items on display were dazzling and gorgeous – he could picture you in every one of them, looking so ethereal like an angel descended from above. the moment he walked in, he was spoilt for choice, wanting to purchase all the merchandise for you. though there were two issues with that disposition – the first being he didn't have enough berry and the second being the dread of asking nami for any more, only adding to the ridiculous interest he owed her already.

whilst it had taken him some time to settle on a gift for you, he was able to make it back to the ship in time, even with his atrocious sense of direction. zoro saw you leaning against the railing, your hair perfectly shaping your face as the moonlight illuminated your pretty features. you waved at him, a huge, heartfelt grin spreading on your rosy lips. he could feel a warmth efflorescence within him, one that he always felt when he was with you.

"hi, my love," you hummed as he got himself on board and you welcomed him with a hug. thankfully, no one else was on deck otherwise they would have caught the pink that dusted his cheeks and god forbid he let any of the members see him in such a state. he planted a gentle peck to the top of your head as he pulled you in closer. you smelled so heavenly – a mix of vanilla and coffee – that beguiled all his senses.

you let go from his embrace and peered up at him with the docility that made him fall for you in the first place. it was a look you reserved only for him, irises dilated and glistening with dear ardor. "where have you been?', you asked him as you dragged him to your shared room.

"oh. i um–", zoro stuttered. he was beginning to feel abashed, thoughts of you not liking the present or feeling it weren't enough making him swell with concern.

"what is it? what were you doing?", you asked as the two of you entered the bedroom. he shut the door behind him while you scurried to the bed, draping the duvet over you. in these simple moments, he found you so adorable – you tugged at his heartstrings like a harp which played a divine tune that trilled throughout his body.

he had removed his shirt before following you to the bed, snuggling in with you, his arms draping over your waist. your hands traced down his bare chest, sending pleasant shivers wherever you touched him. you began absentmindedly drawing hearts on him when you questioned him once more, "tell me! where were you and what did you do?"

from his pockets, he pulled out a tiny, white box with flowers embroidered on it. he opened it slowly to reveal a pair of silver earrings shaped nearly identical to his golden ones. they glinted prettily from the moonlight that flooded in from the window above. he took them out the box one by one and silently hooked them into your earlobes – it was rare for you not to be wearing any jewellery but luckily it worked out in zoro's favour.

he admired the way it hung on your ears and he adored that it matched with his own. a small smile tugged at his lips, the blush on his cheeks darkening at how beautiful you looked. "i bought them for you. thought it would be... cute," he mumbled, averting his gaze from yours, clearly feeling flustered at his actions.

for a few moments, you could only stare at him baffled. you knew zoro struggled to show his affection for you but at the same time, you knew he was trying his best – he was always by your side when you ventured into new islands; he would place his hand delicately on your inner thigh, stroking it up and down as a means to soothe you; he'd always cuddle with you at night, burying his head in your neck and planting open mouth kisses in your sweet spots. you loved the little things he did and it filled you with amour.

but this – this was something that truly touched you.

zoro cared for you so fiercely that he wanted to flaunt your relationship in a subtle yet doting manner. when he walked into the jewellery shop, he had taken notice of that pair of silver dangly earrings which resembled his golden ones. his eyes were set on them and after quite some haggling with the owner, he had them in his hands. he thought they were perfect – to him, it served as a symbol of your relationship and that you two were in this together, come what may.

"do you... like it?", he asked carefully, his tone unsure and eyes still not meeting your own.

a giggle left your lips as you placed a kiss to his temple. "i love it, you idiot. you're the cutest thing ever."

he could only blush in response as he nuzzled his head in the sweet crevices of your neck, arms tightening over your body, holding you close and never wishing to let go.

#i love this man so much ♡#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece zoro #one piece roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #zoro x you #zoro x reader #op x reader #op x you #one piece fluff #op fluff

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 28 days ago

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❝ F*ck me all night, show me who you are❞

warnings: oral sex (r! receiving), dirty talk, squirting, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as cock/dick/member. terms like boypussy, cunt, pussy, hole, cocksleeve are used), unprotected sex, d/s dynamics, pattinson!bruce wayne and corenswet!clark kent

author’s note: this is all @nouearth’s fault btw, lmao. Also, this was posted 2-weeks earlier on my Patreon, if you'd like to support me, please feel free to check it out!

listening to ▸ Pornstar by Ness Barret

There was nowhere else you belonged other than here. Sprawled on the mahogany desk of Bruce Wayne’s at-home office, the crackling wood in the fireplace cast shadows across the rich dark woods and semi-covered oil paintings of older Waynes patriarchs. The heavy curtains were drawn but no light made its way through — Gotham City’s weather was as dreary and cosy as always with its pitter-patter of rain and soothing rumbles of thunder in gloomy clouds.

Your legs were spread wide — just the way Bruce preferred. Your thighs tense and tremble as you press your hips down, trying hard not to buck. His thumb soothed circles to the side of your waist, his tongue dipping between your folds like a languid cat. It’s a game he enjoyed. Bringing you closer and closer to that edge of ecstasy then leaving you hanging there — practically teetering over.

It’s not completely his fault. Even if he did want to make you cum — which he does — he wasn’t allowed. He’d agreed with Clark after all that you weren’t allowed to cum if both of them weren’t present. You had been smug initially. Confident in your ability to sway Bruce and Clark’s desires, making them bend to your whims with a few well-timed gasps and whines. You truly underestimated how strong-willed your lovers were.

“Bruce, please” your lips were wet with spit and that damned gloss that’d gotten you in trouble. Smeared across your cheek, chin, and Bruce’s thick cock.

“Hm?” he groaned, not even lifting his head as his nose bumped into your twitching cock. Bruce flattened his tongue against your tip and wrapped his glossy lips around it. The sensation makes you bring your heels to the edge of the table, so Bruce uses his strength to hold your hips firmly.

“Bruce — Bruce! I’m so close, please let me cum.”

What sweet sounds, Clark thinks as he lands quietly on Bruce’s balcony. The stone gargoyles and intricate architecture greet him and perhaps it’s due to how many times he’s found himself here but he thinks they’re beginning to look friendlier rather than intimidating. Even with the rain pelting down on them and thunder rumbling in the clouds. Gotham’s weather was a stark contrast to Metropolis City’s sunny self but Clark didn’t mind it.

The balcony door handle gives no hitch or resistance, Clark grins as he slips inside. He had told Bruce that he’d try to make it time for a stay-in dinner with their boyfriend but made no promises. Naturally, Bruce had sent him a voice-recorded message of your rapid panting and choked-up gasps. The unlocked balcony doors of Bruce Wayne’s manor were just his way of preening at being right.

You fluttered your eyes open at the smell of rain and sunshine. He smiles down at you, his eyes warm and soft as always as he braces his hands next to your head.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you go limp when Bruce finally pulls his head away from between your thighs.

“You’re late,” Bruce mumbles as he brushed his thumb over his lower lip, sucking off your slick after he slipped it between them.

“You didn’t exactly wait, Bruce” Clark retorted lightheartedly, cupping your face and brushing his thumb down your warm cheeks.

“Look at this poor thing.”

When he cooed at you like you were some poor farm animal – you found yourself getting more and more aroused. Bruce could see how you clenched around nothing at it. It amused the dark knight, he brushed his rough palms on your thighs and you groaned softly, bringing your knees together to deny him the pleasure of teasing you. He arches a brow pointedly but you refuse to glance his way, turning your head to place a sweet kiss on Clark’s palm instead.

“You sure you want to play that game, honey?” Clark is still upside down from your view, that cute little curl against his forehead bouncing lightly as he tilts his head. “You know how Mr Wayne gets when you try to be a brat.”

Bruce scoffs at Clark’s teasing. “He clearly gets that streak from you,” he grabs Clark’s chin and they share a loving kiss above you. The sight alone caused excitement to spread throughout, it was such a funny thing humans did — the rush of blood and endorphins that washed over them like a wave. With his heightened senses, it was something he caught on easily during interviews, though he tried his best not to be too invasive in normal situations. But when it came to you and Bruce, it was an instinctual pull to know what was happening to the both of you. When he found himself missing you too much, Clark would slip his eyes closed and just hone in on the sounds of your heartbeats. That steady thumping would never fail to make him feel comforted. He chuckles, the kind that’s almost steeped with sweet condescension and pulls away from Bruce’s lips to glance down at you.

You with your furrowed brows and pouted lips that were smeared with gloss with your hair sticking to your forehead thanks to Bruce’s talented mouth.

“Does he? I think he gets it from you.”

You peel your back off the table to sit, huffing and puffing as you bring your legs down and stretch your toes out.

“Stop trying to give yourselves credit for my brattiness, I put a lot of effort into it, okay?”

You flatten your hands across Bruce’s chest then push him to sit down on his leather chair. Push was a strong word — he allowed you to unceremoniously guide him to be seated while you tried to stand on shaky legs. Clark admires the view of your naked body as you sit on Bruce’s lap, spreading your legs and calling out his name so sweetly.

“You get so brave when he’s here, hm?” Bruce holds onto your hips, tilting it forward so Clark would have easier access. “Gonna make a mess all over my pants like a bitch in heat again?”

You lean back into him, brushing your teeth against his chin as you grin at him. “You can’t afford the dry cleaning, Brucie?”

Clark nearly guffaws at your bravado. Mere minutes ago you were nearly sobbing as you begged for Bruce’s mercy. Hoping to make him cave into his desire for you and yet here you are now, shamelessly using his lap as a seat while you stroked your twitching cock and spread your legs for Clark.

Still, in his blue and red outfit, Clark shamelessly kneels on the floor in front of you. He politely pulls his cape onto his lap and presses a kiss to your dick. You were already so sensitive, it was enough to have your thighs twitching. Clark peers up at you, his long dark lashes framing those sweet grey-blue eyes and warning you silently to keep those legs open for him.

Clark spreads your cunt open with two fingers, groaning softly as he slips his tongue inside of you. You bite down on your lip just as he slips his eyes closed. The taste of you never fails to make his cock chub up, even in this honourable suit that he uses to save lives. It was your gift — your power. He swears every part of you makes his world continue to spin.

When he focuses on you just enough, he can see every part of you — even those invisible to all. He had used his supervision for plenty of things before, looking through buildings or checking what people hide under their jackets, but there was one time Bruce had intrigued him with a new fact.

Clark had been working on a new piece in Bruce’s library — because that's something most wealthy folks had in their homes apparently — and stumbled across a picture. Bruce glanced over as Clark hummed inquiringly, and said; “Blaschko's lines.”

“Is it a skin condition?” Bruce shook his head, turning his attention back to his research. Alfred had called him a stubborn mule for it, what with him still being wrapped with bandages around his torso and practically being covered with minor injuries from his motorcycle stunt. Clark assured Alfred he’d keep an eye on the brooding Batman while he continued to work in the library, fluffing up every pillow before Bruce walked in.

“All humans have them, they’re just invisible to the naked eye most of the time.”

“So humans have stripes?” Clark sees Bruce contemplate his question but he ultimately gives nothing more than a gruff hum and turns his attention back to his highly confidential files.

Bruce’s skin patterns were gorgeous. It spread from his spine, like the roots of a tree or the veins in the leathery wings of a bat backdropped by light — Bruce always wondered why Clark loved to trace his lips down the curve of his back and Clark would never tell him that its because he’s admiring this secret on Bruce’s skin.

He strokes over the pattern of your skin with his thumb. What you think was mindless shapes had always just been Clark admiring your ‘stripes’, committing it to memory and relishing that only he knew what his mate's patterns were. He gently pressed down on your thighs, groaning as he brushes his teeth against your dick.

“Did you like the audio file I sent you?” Bruce fondled at your chest, pinching your nipples as he worried over your neck and shoulders. You try to arch your back but he firmly presses you flat to his chest, trailing his tongue to the curve of your ear.

“I almost opened it in an elevator,” Clark muttered as he slipped his fingers inside of you. You swallowed them up eagerly, already so wet and warm from Bruce’s languid and tortuous session with you. Two, then three, the Kryptonian is patient while he pushes past his first knuckle and second and finally until he reaches the base. You’re so close — you’re clamping on his fingers like a vice, practically pushing him out while you panted and squirmed. The wet spot on Bruce’s bulge made him chuckle.

Bruce groaned appreciatively as Clark squeezed at it with his other hand. So good with his hands, like a true farm boy.

“That would’ve been fun,” you groaned out with a loose grin.

“No, it wouldn’t.” Clark flushed up at the very thought of it. Letting other people hear your whorish noises didn’t rub him the right way either.

“You’re so naughty,” his words made you coo. You reach for his handsome face, guiding it until he’s leaned over you and Bruce while his hands are still between both of his mate’s legs. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and when you stroke over his chin you giggle at the slickness that coats him there too.

“You love me anyway. You love me too, don’t you, Brucie?”

That wasn’t something either of them could deny. You turn back to Bruce, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheeks before he presses his lips to yours, when Clark leans in he huffs in amusement but gives him as well.

Clark slips his fingers out, earning a sigh from you, and unclips his cape.

“Let’s get to somewhere more comfortable so I can make both of you cum, yeah?”

“Clark’s naughty too!” You muse out, relying on Bruce for support as he curls an arm around your waist while he stands.

“Guess you rubbed off your pervertedness on him,” Bruce chuckled lowly into your ear. You aren’t ashamed of this at all, nearly purring in delight at his astute observations.

Clark shakes his head, focusing on the task of tossing the plush cushions and throwing pillows on the carpet in front of the fireplace. With a flourish, he dries and places his cape over the makeshift bed. Bruce lays you down, settling on your left side while he takes off his loose black shirt, relishing in the way your eyes drink him in.

You tenderly flatten your palm against his chest, brushing over his chest hair and tracing it down to the happy trail he has. You loosen his belt and Bruce watches you as you undo the zipper next. It’s strange for him — to need as much as he does now. Bruce knows he shouldn’t pride himself on someone who didn’t find the necessity of relationships — whether it be platonic or romantic. Other than Alfred, everything and everyone else had been superficial. Especially at the beginning of his career as Gotham’s Dark Knight where he had nearly abandoned his Bruce Wayne identity in the public eye.

Then Clark and you came into his world. Almost serendipitously. It wasn’t easy for the three of you, he’ll admit he didn’t make it easy with his standoffish nature. But you were determined to show him what love was like — what being in love would be like.

To protect the people he loved, to have a chance to protect them in the first place.

Clark settles on your right, now naked as he’s kissing your shoulder. Bruce gives a low moan when you begin stroking his cock, giving both of you a show because he never wants you to take your eyes off him. He loves this, he loves you, he loves Clark.

Bruce’s body is a masterpiece. Years of hard work and dedication etched into him — carved even. When he sucks in a breath, his abs contract and the veins on his arms and neck seem to stand out much more. He’d turned his body into a weapon and here he was, pliant and willing for Clark and you.

Clark’s stomach is softer than Bruce’s, the definition of his abs not that prominent but it’s still firm as he presses it to your back — his cock rubbing between your ass as he slowly ruts his hips against you.

“Please,” they both flutter their eyes open as you plead. “Please fuck me.”

Clark presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, nodding as he reaches for Bruce’s hips. He kicks off his pants fully, his chest hair tickling your chest as he presses close. It’s bliss to be between them like this. The comforting pressure on your front and back causes a rush of endorphins, making your brain go fuzzy. You’re in their care, at their mercy, and there was no other way you wanted it.

Clark lifts your leg, supporting it as Bruce slides inside of your cunt.

You’re squeezing his cockhead tight enough to have him hissing through his teeth, but he persists. You’re strung tight from their teasing, their edging, and now you’re barely keeping it together as Bruce presses more of his big dick inside of you. It’s such a marvel, with its curved shape and the delicate mole just under his head — when he fully sheathed inside of you, you swear you can feel him nudging parts of you no one had ever done before.

Bruce thrusts and you mewl, gripping his shoulders as Clark rubs patterns into your thigh, his dick practically pulsing against your ass.

“B-both inside, God please both of you inside of me please.”

Clark’s careful as he smears some lube onto his cock, Bruce always hid one or two bottles in each room, and then so very carefully he nudges your hole. God, he’s thick. Your jaw aches just remembering how difficult it was to keep all your spit in your mouth while stretched around him.

You’re panting between them, a sheen of sweat already forming despite the rain pattering outside — the fireplace was making your skin glow, turning you into this ethereal vision of pure lust as if you were some modern-day god of eroticism. You might as well be, what with your two lovers on either side. Gods of justice and hope keeping you safe and fulfilled.

Clark groans out Bruce’s name as he inches in. “Your dick feels so good rubbing against mine, oh shit,” he’s holding onto Bruce’s plump ass, hitching his body closer and making all of you moan.

“Clark, ah fuck,” Bruce’s composure is melting away. Your warm velvety insides, your mewling, Clark’s groans of pleasure, his dick against Bruce’s — he was just a man, nobody could fault him for succumbing to his desires.

When they’re both fully sheathed inside, you’re impossibly full, the sensation causing you to gasp and cum. Bruce and Clark grunt as you twitch around them, practically milking them as you jerk and shiver. When you go limp on Superman’s cape, they let you have a moment to breathe — your chest raising and falling rapidly like a rabbit’s as you make a wanton albeit strangled noise.

“You’re doing so good for us,” Bruce says. Clark makes a sound of agreement, brushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead as they both patiently wait for your cue.

“So good, taking both of us in like a good boy, our good boy. Our perfect cocksleeve.”

Bruce’s words make you whine. He’s so good at making you sink deeper into that submissive state with just his words. That bastard, you think with a fond expression on your face.

You sigh softly, fluttering your eyes closed as you stretch your back on the cape and plush pillows.

They set the pace. Slow and deep at first, easily falling into a tandem rhythm. As Bruce thrusts in, Clark thrusts out — never giving you a moment of reprieve despite their gentle kisses and touches. The sounds coming out of your mouth are pure erotica. The sweat beading on your skin is being licked off by Clark while Bruce is determined to create a collar of hickeys on your neck. He places it high — guess it’s turtleneck season for you after this.

Clark is always careful with his strength, he’s calculative with every pound of pressure he uses. So when you feel him tighten his grip on your thighs, you know it’s purposeful. He loves leaving his marks on you and Bruce, knowing how the both of you go wild for it.

“You getting close, darling?” Clark grins dopily at Bruce, loving the face of concentration he has. Bruce nods, his dark hair now messy and sticking to his forehead as his hips stutter. “What about you, honey?”

You squeak, choking on a scream as you leave red welts on Bruce’s chest and grip onto Clark’s cape.

The man of steel chuckles, picking up the pace as he kisses you, stealing your breath away from you as he pounds up into you. “Clark — ah - Clark,” hearing Bruce call out to him like that makes him even more reinvigorated. The both of them are beginning to lose the rhythm they set, now rutting into you with one goal in mind; to mark your insides with white.

Clark cums first, and Bruce follows shortly after and you’re not even sure if you’re cumming anymore. You whimper as globs of their cum manage to escape you, staining Superman’s red cape with white.

“I can’t feel my legs,” you say between your panting. They laugh, soothingly running their hands down your body as you ease down from their rough treatment.

“Isn’t that what you wanted in the first place, honey? Acting like a brat, being so naughty?”

You harrumphed, hiding your face in Bruce’s chest which just makes both of them laugh harder.

#s3thwrit3sstuff #male reader #reader insert #male reader insert #gay reader #male!reader #bruce wayne x male reader #clark kent x male reader #clark kent x reader #bruce wayne x reader #dc x reader #dc x male reader #superman x male reader #superman x reader #batman x male reader #batman x reader

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sleepymarimo · 2 years ago

Text

𝕨𝕖𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕤

summary: after becoming the greatest swordsman and learning of his bloodline, the next logical step for zoro would be to return to wano and marry into the kozuki family, right? if only you didn't look so good as a bridesmaid... pairing: zoro x afab!reader cw: mdni, vaginal sex, drunk sex, infidelity, cursing, mutual pining an: this idea has been in my head for a while, so... enjoy!

It's the day of the wedding.

Well, his wedding.

After being the world's greatest swordsman for a few years, Zoro had decided that he had wanted to return to Wano. He never explained why, barking at whoever asked him that it was none of their damn business. The crumpled up paper you'd found in the corner of the training room, which contained details about his lineage, gave you an idea of why he was adamant on returning.

The swordsman was someone you admired very much, from his sometimes frustrating temper to his unshakable will. After sailing together for so long, it was difficult to not develop feelings for him. You liked to think that the two of you were relatively close or at the very least that he tolerated your presence more than others. He never strayed too far from you and even shared his sake with you on occasion, his annoyed grumbles doing little to hide how much he enjoyed providing for you- even if it was just a sip from his bottle.

Your outlooks on life might have been different, but there was a lot to learn from one another. This learning was often done on warm nights aboard the Sunny after a few bottles of sake and a playful spar. Even when there were no conversations happening, you'd enjoy the comfortable silence and the sense of security he brought to you.

Yet, ever since he had achieved his goal of becoming the greatest swordsman, you had to admit that he seemed… different. He of course was as brash as ever, always ready to stand by the crew and act as a protector when necessary, but he seemed to be itching for something. He was lost, plain and simple.

Your mind, ever tumbling with thoughts, wonders what the green haired samurai's goal was in returning to Wano. To reconnect with his roots? To stay? You doubted he would, but the thought still made your stomach drop.

Now, a few weeks later, here you are at the wedding celebration of Zoro and soon-to-be-wife, Hiyori.

Celebration is an understatement, as the whole thing could be confused for a festival. An entire courtyard full of seats, all open to the people of Wano. Its extravagant and lavish, with vendors and performers ensuring that the party would last well into the night. The tables are piled high with a plethora of food and sake. Hiyori had wanted a grand ceremony and it was definitely something, though the large crowd and the unavoidable spotlight didn't seem like something Zoro would enjoy. After the bachelor party, which involved the guys drinking until they couldn't stand, Brook spilled to you and the girls that Zoro hadn't even been the one to propose. Allegedly, he was just going with whatever his teal-haired partner wanted, and she was happy to take over as long as she had the samurai by her side.

The whole thing didn't quite sit right with you, something gnawing at your chest. Jealousy? Worry? You weren't exactly comfortable bringing it up with anyone else, but judging by the knowing looks that Robin sent your way or how Luffy would gaze off to the side and pucker his lips at the mention of the wedding, you could tell that you weren't alone in your thoughts. While you would ask Zoro yourself, the way he responded to Luffy's meddling a couple of days ago has you hesitant to do so.

"But Zoro!" Luffy had whined, wrapping his limbs around the swordsman with a pout. "What about-" Zoro's words were spoken through clenched teeth, one of his calloused hands tightening into the fabric of Luffy's red kimono. "I dare you to keep talking."

Currently, you're chatting it up with Nami and Robin in the bride's quarters. The three of you are in the bridal party, getting ready for the celebration that is soon to be underway. As per Hiyori's request, the bridesmaids are fitted into navy blue kimonos that are woven from the softest material you've ever felt. Your hair is neatly styled and your makeup light as you help the other girls get ready for the wedding. Your chest tightens every time your eyes glance over at Hiyori, her radiant beauty and cheerful demeanor causing your confidence to waver.

The whole thing has you craving some alone time before you go out there and watch your vice captain be wed, so you stand from your mat and give Nami and Robin a small, slightly forced smile. "Hey, I'm gonna take a quick walk. D'you guys remember where that nice koi pond was at?"

Something flashes in Robin's eyes and she sits up a little straighter, giving you one of those smiles that you've come associate with trouble. She gives you directions, but they're a little all over the place and have you questioning every turn. You'd been wandering around the halls for a while now, sure that you were lost as you murmured some curses to yourself.

You're about to turn back altogether when you pick up on a familiar energy. It's Zoro's, of course it is, but there's something different about it. The closer you get to the groom's quarters, the more you pick up on the underlying currents of unease than emanate from his aura. Worry grows in your chest, as such levels of doubt and anxiety weren't usually present in the swordsman. The fact that he isn't even bothering to conceal these emotions is even more concerning, since you knew he had a very good grip on his haki.

One of your hands comes up to lightly knock on the sliding wooden door. You give a small greeting, telling him that it's you.

Zoro, who had been staring blankly at the wall with a bottle of sake in his hand, snapped out of his daze when he heard your voice. He quickly straightened up, his usual irritation returning to his face as he roped in the tendrils of unease that he had unintentionally let slip loose.

"What the hell do you want?" He grumbled, his voice a bit hoarse from the tension. He didn't bother to open the door, expecting you to understand that he wanted to be alone.

“Zoro…” You sigh, your tone laced with caution as you stand behind the door and make it clear that you won't budge until he confirms that he is alright.

"Seriously, I'm fine.” He replied, his voice strained. "Just leave me alone. I'll be out in a minute." His tone was defensive. Though he tried to hide it, he couldn't deny that the weight of the wedding and everything that came with it was overwhelming him. The anxiety and doubts were gnawing at him more than he cared to admit.

Before he could ask you to go away again, he felt a knot forming in his chest. He sighed, realizing that shutting you out wouldn't solve anything. You of all people could ground him, could be there for him when he was feeling things he had no idea how to process. It was a trait of yours he envied, your ability to show people warmth and empathy without a second thought. He needed that, needed you, needed every bit of you.

He finally slid open the door and revealed himself, looking disheveled and restless. His bandana on his arm was slightly askew, and the collar of his ceremonial kimono was tugged open, the belt loose. His green hair seemed even messier than usual, disheveled.

"What the fu-" Your eyes widen and you quickly enter the room, sliding the door closed behind you. The sight of him makes you raise your hands up to help, but they remain suspended in the air as you ponder where to even begin with him. The smell of sake is strong, his posture tense and his eyes slightly blown from the copious amounts of alcohol that's in his system.

“I don’t- Zoro, what’s going on?” You ask, your head tilting.

A light sigh tumbles past your lips as you tug his kimono closed, scrambling to soothe out any wrinkles and make him slightly more presentable. Where were the rest of the groomsmen? Grumbles are all you hear from him and it doesn’t make the process any easier. After you attempt to smoothen out his hair, he scowls and ruffles it up again.

“This whole damn ceremony.” He growls, shaking off your hands and turning on his heel as he walks to the table to open up another bottle. “It’s not-“

A long sigh is heard from him, the sound rumbling in his chest. He takes a long swig from the bottle, wiping away the excess sake from his lips using the back of his hand. He shakes his head and turns back to meet your gaze, taking a few steps forward until he’s in front of you. When he speaks, his tone is stern but forced, like he’s putting in effort to remain calm. “I’m not sure this is what I want.”

His admission leaves you momentarily stunned as you try to make sense of his words. Your hands fidget at your sides, your voice laced with concern. “The wedding? Hiyori?” His state ignites something within you, an overwhelming urge to comfort him in any way you can. "I thought you wanted to come back to Wano."

“Both.” He confesses, spitting out the word like it was made of poison. “And I did. I’m just, damn it, I don’t know! I'm already the greatest swordsman, so I should be out here and doing all this domestic shit, right? Coming back to Wano like my ancestors would've wanted? Marrying into the damn Kozuki family?"

The pieces slowly come together. A swordsman who has accomplished his dream and is unsure of what goal to chase next. On paper, it sounded ideal, like a fantasy that only one in a million could achieve. Yet, Zoro is restless and unable to feel at ease. He's taken to following expectations in a bid to fill the small gap of emptiness that came with establishing himself as the strongest swordsman, a title he fought for almost his whole life. Now that he had completed it, he struggled to find purpose, to find a use for himself other than being a fighter.

His frustration is clear, from the way his jaw tenses to the rigidity of his stance. He’s itching to release his emotional tension, his body twitching in anticipation. It's like watching a caged animal. You’re silent for a moment and sense that he has more to say. He huffs and stares down at you with an almost unreadable expression, the distant sounds of the celebration barely audible through the wooden door.

His mouth opens, before he quickly closes it and clenches his teeth together, looking away. Red tinges his cheeks, from the alcohol or something else, you cannot tell.

“Can I try something?” He asks with only a slight slur, stepping closer. His voice is low and gravelly, his eye shining with a drunken determination that hides something you can't pinpoint just yet. “To see if I’m doing the right thing? With the right person?”

You release a breath that you don’t even know you’re holding, nodding slightly. You’re unsure of what to expect, but there was nothing you wouldn’t do for your crew, especially Zoro.

“Yeah.” You affirm, your voice a bit more timid than you would’ve wanted as you feel the heat radiating from his body into yours.

He grunts in acknowledgment, his eye assessing each and every one of your movements. For a few seconds, he doesn’t do anything. As you’re about to open your mouth, he brings a hand up and places it at the nape of your neck.

You don’t even have time to ask him what he is doing before he brings his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter closed, nails digging into your palms as they tighten in response to the sensation.

It was wrong, wasn’t it? Here he was in his groom’s attire, his own wedding ceremony about to be underway. You should be pulling away, stopping him from betraying the woman he was set to marry within the hour.

Yet, when his tongue swipes across your lower lip, you part them without question. He groans. His other hand finds purchase on your hip, rubbing circles on the sensitive flesh there using his thumb. The sake from his tongue fills your tastebuds as he eagerly explores your mouth, drinking in the taste of you as if it were his own brand of liquor.

You couldn't resist him even if you tried, your hands sliding under the collar of his kimono and gliding along the skin of his shoulders and chest. He melts under your touch and takes this as a sign to bring you closer to him, eliciting a gasp from your lips when you feel his already half-hard cock rutting against your tummy.

A string of saliva tethers you two together when you finally pull away, your face hot as he stares down at you with a possessive affection. His gaze shifts from your eyes to the rest of your form, your figure accentuated by the kimono that hugs you.

The effort he puts in is minimal as he wraps his arms around you and raises you off the ground, your hands tightening on his shoulders, though he wouldn't dare drop you. He lays you on one of the soft mats which adorn the groom's quarters, kneeling between your legs and lazily grinding his hips against yours. The sensation has your back arching and your panties dampening.

"Least Hiyori can do one thing right." He drunkenly groans as he continues to grind his dick against your clothed slit, his hands firmly gripping your thighs as he looks down at you. His words are slightly slurred, the lust in them more than apparent. "Gettin' you all nice n' pretty for me, wrapped up like a fuckin' gift."

You hiss and buck your hips to meet his thrusts against your core, your hands tugging at the collars of your kimono in a bid to find some reprieve from the heat that's coursing through your veins. He gets the idea and doesn't waste another second before sliding the fabric off of your shoulders.

His steel colored eye drinks in every inch of you, his hips jolting forward when his calloused hands cup your breasts and knead the soft flesh. Your whines only increase when his thumbs tease your hardened nipples, sending waves of pleasure right to your core. You catch sight of his tongue swiping across his lip before he leans forward and captures one of the pebbled buds into his mouth.

Your hands tangle into his green hair as you hold him there, his fingers lightly tugging and rolling at one nipple while his tongue swirls greedily around the other. The groan he lets out against your breast is desperate and hungry, his hips continuing to grind against yours. He's completely hard by now, and what you feel against your clothes has you thinking about how full you're going to be.

Its already too much and you swear that you're seeing stars.

Through pants, you manage to grab his free hand in one of yours and guide it towards your aching cunt. As soon as his hand slips past the waistband of your underwear, his fingers become coated in your arousal. They swirl just outside your entrance before coming up and messily rubbing at your clit, making you gasp and clench around nothing. When he finally slides a finger inside, your walls pulse around the sudden intrusion. He shudders, wondering just how good it'll feel around his cock.

He adds another finger, then another, every thrust and curl bringing you closer and closer to the edge. When he hits a particularly sensitive spot, you choke out a low moan. "There, there, there!" You cry, feeling your thighs starting to tense.

A low, guttural noise erupts from his throat at the way your pussy is starting to tighten around his fingers. He tugs on your nipple a little harder, his teeth grazing along the other. The sound of wet slaps echo throughout the room and its downright dirty, only increasing your desire for him. Your pupils are blown when you look down at him, his ceremonial kimono making him look unbearably handsome. He makes for one hell of a groom.

When you gasp, he gives your nipple one last lick before gazing up at your face, eager to see you come undone. "C'mon dollface, give it to me." He gruffly orders, curling his fingers just a little more.

You only babble his name before everything gets hazy. Your walls clamp around him and your hips buck desperately into his fingers. The waves of pleasure cascade down your whole body and in the midst of it all, Zoro leans forward and captures your mouth in his. He eagerly swallows all of your moans and cries, continuing to thrust his fingers into you until he deemed it necessary to stop.

Satisfied by the blissed out look on your face, he tugs off his hakama and frees his cock from its confines. He gives it a stroke or two to relieve some of the tension, before he aids you in shedding the rest of your kimono.

He settles once more between your thighs. His eye is fixed on the wetness pooling in your core, his hand lazily guiding the head of his cock up and down your slit.

“Been thinkin’ about this pussy for way too long.” He growls, positioning himself in front of your entrance.

His tone has you whining, your hips gyrating in a way that has his tip slipping into your cunt. The action has him groaning, his patience finally snapping as he buries himself inside of you to the hilt.

The stretch is mind blowing, your hands coming up to his biceps and squeezing the taut muscles in an attempt to ground yourself. Your body reacts to the sudden fullness by clenching tightly around him, the spasms only serving to heighten his pleasure. The grip he has on your hips strengthens and you’re sure it’ll bruise.

In his drunken state he wastes no time, his hips hammering into yours with utter desire. His breaths are heavy as he stares down at you, enamored by how your mouth hangs open and how you cling to him so desperately.

Your back arches, hips angling in a way that has jolts of pleasure running up your spine.

“H-hah! Zoro!” You babble, your whole body hot with delight. His biceps feel like steel under your palms, the sensation making your head feel even lighter.

Your pleas spur him further and he tugs your body closer until your thighs rest snugly atop of his. He releases his grip on your hips, placing his forearms on either side of your head as his thrusts become short and forceful. The muscles in your legs tense at the new angle and you mewl.

The tip of his cock pounds into your cervix, making you let out a choked moan as the pain and pleasure mingle into one glorious sensation. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and you bury your head into his neck. With a light head, you plant sloppy, open mouthed kisses onto the sensitive flesh there in an attempt to return a fraction of the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Fuck!” A groan tears out of his throat and you can feel the vibration from his chest. “Takin’ me so well.”

A particularly sharp thrust has your breath hitching and your eyelids fluttering, your head falling back slightly. His cheek is pressed against yours, his skin cool and clammy from the thin layer of sweat that has formed on his body.

Your eyes lose focus and you pant helplessly. His earrings dangle in front of your face, the metal pieces clinking together in a rhythmic melody that rings louder than the wedding bells banging in the distance. “S-S’good!” You stammer, your grip on him tightening.

Another curse or two spills from his lips, his words grunted through clenched teeth. “Yeah? That right?” He smirks, absolutely reveling in your pleasured state, his core tightening as your body clamps around him in the most delicious way. You have him close, too close, and he doesn’t want this to be over just yet.

His cheeks are colored red when he sits up and pulls out of you. A whine falls from your mouth, pleading with him as you buck your hips for any sort of touch. Your thighs hang over his, while his frame towers over you. “M’not done with you, yet.” He roughly reassures while he brings a hand up to your thigh and rubs gentle circles.

He starts to run his other hand up and down his length, positioning the head of his cock right up against your puffy clit as he jerks himself off to the sight of you. Every stroke of his hand has your hips bucking in pleasure as his tip hits and swirls against you, the clitoral stimulation sending you spiraling. There’s not much to do other than writhe and babble praises at him as you feel your climax inching closer, his tip leaking precum right onto your wet clit. You feel another orgasm creeping up on you, the coil in your tummy ready to burst.

"C'mon!" You whine, your hips bucking as you look up at him with desire-glazed eyes. "Zoro, please! Wanna cum!"

He doesn't deny you, he never would, so he makes sure to keep hitting that spot until you're arching and mewling for him. The way your eyes screw shut and your mouth falls open has his chest swirling with pride. Just as you get pushed over the edge, he makes his move.

Without much warning other than a low growl, he folds you in half until your thighs hug your chest and your ankles rest on his shoulders. His hands are secured under your knees, ensuring that you won't wriggle out of his hold. In this position, your pussy is presented to him beautifully and he sinks into you as you cum.

Your walls are still spasming, clenching when he pries you open with his cock. The gasp that leaves your mouth is akin to a sob as he brutally hammers into you, chasing his own high. The overstimulation is too much and you try desperately to wriggle from his hold, but its useless.

Yet, when your eyes catch a glimpse at his expression, his lustful gaze and reddened cheeks, you can't help but let him crack your knees open a little wider.

"Atta girl." He praises with a half smirk, his thrusts becoming short and erratic.

His grip on your knees tightens and he throws his head back, utterly consumed by how your plush walls are squeezing him. When his breath hitches and he grunts out you name, its not long after that you feel a hotness in your core. His cum coats your insides in bursts, the thick, white ropes pooling all around. Everything sounds more wet, more raw, as he continues to shallowly thrust into you, riding out his orgasm.

He finally lets your legs go and they tremble as they settle back down around his hips. When he collapses onto you, his skin is hot against yours. He rasps out some breaths, his back slowly falling and rising. You can feel his heart beating strongly against your chest, the sensation grounding you.

His body atop of yours serves as a sort of anchor, your thighs twitching as his hips continue to gently rock against yours. He takes a few deep breaths, his head turning to the side to catch a glimpse at you. Lazily, his nose nuzzles your temple.

“Fuckin’ marry me, woman.” He grumbles, his tone stern as his eyelids flutter closed. "You're the one I want.”

Of course, you can't say no.

In your post-coital haze, you can't help but wonder what mess is going to come from this, but Zoro has always had a way of calming your ever-racing mind. So instead, you sigh, running a hand through his slightly dampened hair as a corner of your lips quirk up into a half smile. "Can we still have cake?"

He snorts in an attempt to hide his laugh, saying nothing as he flips you onto him and gives your ass a slap.

#roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece x reader #one piece smut

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iliketangerines · 11 months ago

Note

So I watched this anime about these two guys and one of them like got powers to where if he touches someone he can hear what the person is thinking- so hear my out- like reader wakes up with the powers and discovers she has them when she’s training with someone ((any one of the mk boys you wanna do- maybe Kung Lao- or Syzoth- perhaps Reiko or Tomas)) and they end up tripping her and pinning her to the floor and since they’re touching she hears their thought- which is basically them being like “oh how I wish to have something more with you” or “i wish you knew how bad I wanted to fuck you” and she just gets a really flustered about it- maybe after that she just goes around and coincidentally bumps into another guy and the same thing happens ((this is kinda multi fic- like mk men x reader))

your thoughts and mine

a/n: i want ALL OF THEM

pairing: kung lao, kenshi takahashi, johnny cage, raiden x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), creampies, overstimulation, blowjobs, spanking, mating press, electrostimulation

you’ve always been able to read mind from an early age, finding out when you had touched your mother one day and read her thoughts

but you keep your powers secret and hidden, wearing a pair of gloves and keeping your body covered up, even on hot sunny days, to avoid touching anybody

it became worse when you had joined the Wu Shi Academy, having to constantly spar and be in-touch with people, but it was manageable

you kept your gloves on and your clothe modest, and none of them really seemed to care as all the uniforms were quite similar to what you wore

today, the sweltering heat was getting to you, making it hard to concentrate on how Kung Lao was in front of you, smirking and beckoning you to come fight him

you shake the sweat droplets from your forehead and lunge forward, landing the first strike on him

it’s a dance of fists and blurs as you two move across the training field but combined with the heat of the sun and the stickiness of your clothes to your own skin, he manages to beat you, grabbing onto your wrists where your sleeves had ridden up your arms

he pins you down, gripping you tightly and keeping them above you, and his thoughts flash in your mind, thoughts of you naked and squirming on bed

how he would pin you down and watch your every expression as he slowly thrusts into you while his other hand rubs slow circles into your clit

your chest is covered in bite marks and hickeys, and your expression is flushed and dazed as he coos at you, how pretty you look on his cock

Kung Lao lets go of you, and the images disappear, your head spinning from what you had just seen

he asks if you’re okay, that you looked a bit flush, that maybe you should take off the shirt because you’re definitely going to get a heat stroke

you wave him off and just say you need some water before standing up and walking away briskly, trying to ignore the ache between your legs

the dining halls are mostly empty as you enter, and you beeline to the water fountain, grabbing a cup and filling it with water and gulping it down

you strip off your gloves, hands too sweaty, and wipe them down on your shirt, trying to calm yourself down and regain control over your own body

the thoughts still plague your mind, how his cock had thrusted in and out of you, making a loud squelching sound every time he rocked his hips forward and how your back arched off the bed

you wave away the thoughts and turn around at the sound of footsteps echoing behind you, and Kenshi stands behind you, arms crossed with that permanent furrow in his brow

he greets you, and you step aside and give him access to the water

as Kenshi walks by you, you hand him your cup, saying it’ll save washing more than one cup, and he thanks you and takes the cup, fingertips just brushing together

another image flashes through your mind, how his tattooed hand grips onto your hair as your lips stretch around his girth

your eyes are filled with tears and make-up stains your cheeks as Kenshi guides your head up and down his cock

he has your hands tied behind you and your legs kicked apart, so all you can do is grind against his shoe as he fucks into your face

the thought disappears as soon as it comes, and yet Kenshi seems completely unaffected as he grabs a drink from the fountain and takes a sip

quickly, you bow to him and leave the kitchen to go back to your bedroom, trying not to seem too obvious with how your pussy drools at the thoughts

the ache now persisted between your legs, and you needed to get rid of the need, the frustration, the wetness

as you walk back through the halls, Johnny passes by you, and in your frustration, you trip over nothing and nearly face plant if it weren’t for Johnny grabbing onto your hand

he thinks of you, face buried into the pillows and ass high in the air as he fucks into you ruthlessly

your ass is red and sore, and he squeezes at the meat of them, groaning at the sight of the plushness spilling between his fingers before giving you a firm slap

he presses a hand into your back to make you arch deeper for him, and it makes you cry out into the pillows as you tell that it’s too much

Johnny just smiles at you and reaches a hand down to rub at your sensitive clit and asks you for just one more, to just cum for him one more time

his cock stretches you out deliciously as he pounds into you, the sound of wet slapping filling the air along with your pathetic sobs and his grunts

the sound of Johnny’s voice brings you out of your stupor as he asks if you’re okay, and that maybe you should go to the infirmary, that you look sick

you try to pass it off, but your voice comes out hoarse and a little needy, Johnny sterns his face and grabs you by your arm, dragging you to the infirmary while giving a mild lecture about the importance of taking care of one’s self

somehow, the infirmary is much closer than you had thought, and Johnny and you arrive in no time

he flings the door open, and Raiden is already there, eyebrows raised in surprise at the dramatic entrance

Johnny smiles at the sight of the other champion and pushes you toward him, saying that Raiden is the best medicine guy they have and that he’ll take good care of you

he then promptly disappears, presumably off to bother Kenshi, and Raiden takes one look at your red face and brings the back of his hand to your forehead

you’re not even surprised anymore when images of your flushed face enter your head

he imagines you on the bed, neck covered in his hickeys as he fucks into you slowly and sweetly

your legs are hooked over his shoulders, pressing you into a mating press, but his hips are slow and sloppy as he thrusts in and out of you

his words are sweet and honeyed as he gives you praises as easily as water, telling you how pretty and beautiful you look like this, all fucked-out and flush

he brings his head down and kisses you, pelvis grinding into your clit to make you cum, and his body crackles with electricity, shocking you and bringing you to your high

a whine leaves your body before you’re even aware of it, and the thoughts disappear as Raiden retracts his hand and looks at your with furrowed eyebrows and a slight pout

he tells you that you’re a bit sick perhaps, and he goes to the medicine cabinet on one side of the room, grinding herbs together while preparing a tea

soon enough, a steaming cup of tea sits in your hands that smells herbal and medicinal while Raiden towers over you to watch you finish it

you try to protest, but he glares at you and tells you that it’s better to take care of a cold earlier than later and chides you to finish the tea

grimacing at the smell, you gather your courage and drink the tea, eyes squeezing shut at the taste, but the drink goes down quickly and settles in your stomach

you shove the cup back into his hands, avoiding touching his bare skin, and scurry off back to your room with barely a goodbye

as soon as your bedroom door slams shut behind you, you lay on your bed and dip your fingers below your waistband, circling your clit and pumping them in and out of you

the thoughts plague your mind as you bring yourself closer to your climax, desperate and horny for them to fuck you

your whines and small moans of their names fill the room as you lose yourself in the pleasure, back arching off the bed and eye squeezed shut as you rub tight circles into your clit

jolts of pleasure wash over you quickly, pent-up from earlier that day, and your labored breaths fill the air as you cum on your fingers

as you open your eyes, sunlight streams through your room, which was strange because your window blinds were closed

you look to the door and find all four of the standing there, looking at you, with your hand down your pants

a flush covers your face, and you remove your slick-covered fingers from your pussy and try to stutter out an excuse

Kung Lao shuts the door behind them as they crowd into your room, circling your bed, and you finally notice how hard all of them are underneath their uniforms

after that day, you don’t bother wearing gloves anymore

702 notes · View notes

kiestrokes · 5 months ago

Text

Say My Name | NSFW

Pairing: Fratboy!Song Mingi x AFAB!Reader/You/Yn

Featuring: Jeong Yunho, Jung Wooyoung, Kang Yeosang, Kim Hongjoong, Park Seonghwa, with mentions of Choi San of ATEEZ and Yoon Jeonghan of SVT

Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI.

Word Count: 5,839

Genre: some slices of life, mild inner turmoil, college au, smut.

Warnings: this storyline does have polyamory/open relationships intertwined, bisexual/pansexual orientations for: Yoon Jeonghan, Jeong Yunho; Jung Wooyoung; Choi San and Song Mingi, jealous ex boyfriends, drinking, smoking weed, cursing.

Sexually Explicit Content: mention of threesomes, mxm, fxm, fxmxm, oral sex (f. receiving), vaginal penetration, condoms, orgasms (both), clit stim, nipple stim, hair pulling, kissing (with tongue), deep sex (or rough sex, but not bdsm level, and no degradation), slight praise, let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: You and Yunho have been childhood best friends since your mothers grew up together, living in different towns but spending all the holidays together. The friendship has always been light and easy, never serious. Reconnecting in college and exploring each other in new ways. After a second breakup with your high school sweetheart, Yunho propositions you to break your dry spell with his new fraternity brother transfer and high school friend Song Mingi. How could you say no?

🗝️ Note: Welcome to my gay frat house I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️ it didn’t start out this wayyy. But YunWoo took over my brain a week into writing this last year. In addition to the YunGi brainrot that kind of started this. Technically it was the Booty Wurk dance where Yunho looked like Mingi that we all have to blame. But anyway. Hope you enjoy! Please let me know if you did 💋

Edit: I deleted a little under 2k of this fic that I just did not like, I had tacked it on under pressure. What is below is what I originally wrote and felt was not "good enough" to share...on tumblr...about fictional characters.

Beta Reader(s): @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @chans-room in addition to massive thank you to Sunny and B for helping me in the midst of final edits when my imposter syndrome took over.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

Read it on ao3!

You release a deep sigh, thumb skimming the text invite that Yunho had dropped in your group chat last weekend.

“You sure you’re good to do this?”

Yeosang’s hand touches your shoulder, drawing you back into your budget uber, a squashed Nissan Leaf.

“Yea, I need a hook up and some trash frat booze to solidify the end of my shitty relationship.”

Yeosang nods in agreement, he couldn’t take much more of your dorm room hermit-ing. Post high school sweetheart breakup (for the second time). You’re still unsure how you were convinced to give him a second chance.

“Let's go then, looks like the party is in full swing.”

You finally look out the window, the 1940s brick craftsman is borderline radioactive with the amount of neon lights covering it inside and out.

The two of you make your way up the neatly trimmed lawn, taking care not to disrupt the group of stoners that are gazing up at the stars trying to locate the big dipper.

Yeosang’s white netted shirt glows an otherworldly purple as you descend into the black lights inside the house.

You’d chosen a comfortable party fit. But did take Yeosang’s advice and threw on the top he’d suggested. Hoping that the magic it was doing for your cleavage was enough to get you laid tonight.

The two of you locate a familiar face among the crowd; Hongjoong is sitting on the stairs carefully rolling a blunt. You lick your lips at the sight of his tongue flicking out to seal the wrapper.

Shit, you really needed to get laid tonight.

“Hey HJ,” You nod to the person leaning on the wall next to him and they smile politely back.

“Hey! I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

You roll your eyes as Hongjoong hugs the two of you at once.

“As if you’d let me ditch this time.”

Hongjoong smirks at you as he reclaims his seat on the stairs.

“Where’s Woo?” Yeosang asks, hoping his friend hasn’t already gotten into trouble.

“Oh, Yunho and Woo are both downstairs, they’re doing a little dance thing.”

Hongjoong passed the blunt he’d been rolling to his companion. Waving his hand dismissively towards the entry of another room.

“Through the kitchen right?” Yeosang says, slipping his hand in yours, tugging you in what you can only imagine is the direction of the kitchen.

“Mmhmm.” Hongjoong murmurs, sending you a wink as you slip into the crowd, “good luck!”

Yeosang guides you in front of him once you locate the basement stairs. You’re thankful for all the brightness of the yellow rope lighting as you clamber down the sticky stairs. The music reaches your ears immediately.

“Oh my god, are we in 2012? Who the fuck is playing Booty Wurk?”

“Haven't you seen the new TikTok dance?”

“No.”

You and Yeosang descend the final layer of stairs just in time for the first chorus and an eyeful of your childhood best friend with a cap low over his eyes dancing in perfect sync with Wooyoung to the older R&B song.

Yeosang’s gasping face is a mirror of yours when you turn to him.

The two of you take up real estate on the stairs to watch their little show above the heads of the gathered college crowd.

You screech as the hip rolls start, and Yeosang shakes you as your two friends glide through the crowd. Dancing a path until Wooyoung is on his knees and you notice the person filming him. Wooyoung tugs the brim of his hat and slams the camera away.

The crowd screams, engulfing the boys in hugs and cheers. The two of you join in the cheers, before trying to get their attention.

“WOO! YUNHO!” You shout, waving your hands.

Yunho’s head snaps up and a grin fills his face as he comes to scoop you off the stairs in a spinning hug.

“You made it!” His smile widens when he sets you down.

“Yea, yea no big deal” you wave his excitement off.

“I want you to meet someone, where did he go…” Yunho breaks off as he scans the room.

“Can I least get a drink off before you start forcing socialization on me?”

Your pre-hookup jitters have made a reappearance, and you’re secretly wishing you had snuck off to get high with Hongjoong instead.

He laughs, “ok, ok. Woo? Yeo?”

Their heads pop up and they push away from their perches against the wall where they had been reviewing the dance video, to join you. The four of you weave through bodies to the fraternity's wet bar.

Yunho sets to work mixing up some drinks when another T-Pain song scratches across the speakers, and Wooyoung shouts in delight as the whole crowd starts singing offkey to Buy U A Drank.

Your best friend shakes his head laughing to himself.

“What?”

“I know where he is now,” Yunho wags his brows at you as he passes a cup to you and Yeosang who is watching the screaming crowd with confused curiosity.

“I can’t see anything!” You turn to Yunho, as he takes a sip of his drink regarding you over the rim with mischievous eyes.

He taps the bar counter, “hop up here.”

He sets his cup down on the other side and lifts you into the counter before you have time to think.

A small circle has formed around three people. In the center is a guy with dyed silver hair, shaggy and falling across his eyes.

“That’s Song Mingi,” Yunho smirks up at you.

Ahhh, mystery fratboy finally has a name.

You roll your eyes back at him, as if hadn’t been sending you propaganda of his high school friend the last two weeks leading up to the party.

Both of you turn back to the dancers, and you take a big gulp of your drink as he starts body rolling along with the others. The exception is- his gyrations are ridiculously fluid putting the other two dancers to shame.

“Fine, he’s cute” you yield, and Yunho leans into the side of your legs with a triumphant laugh.

“He’s more than cute, he has perfect proportions,” Yunho takes another sip of his drink before turning his face to yours, “still wanna test him out for me?” Yunho whispers against your cheek, his hand giving your knee a squeeze.

Your eyes couple briefly before yours drift to Yunho’s smiling lips, and you grant him a nod and a quick peck.

“He has to fuck well with moves like that,” Wooyoung tugs on Yeosang’s arm, and the other guy rolls his eyes.

“Wait, why is everyone confused whether Mingi is good in bed or not?”

Your question goes unanswered. Leaving you vaguely worried that you’ve been roped into popping someone’s cherry. But Yunho would do that to you.

Would he?

“That’s the one?” Yeosang questions you and Yunho, to which you both nod.

Yeosang purses his lips surveying the dance moves, he himself is not interested in the same shenanigans as Yunho and Wooyoung. He had simply come to grab a free drink and deliver you to Yunho.

Or take you home if you weren’t feeling up to it.

“He does have pretty proportions,” Yeosang nods, mutually agreeing with Yunho.

Wooyoung slaps Yeosang across the chest, “Mingi has pretty everything you should see his-”

“Agh.”

Yeosang slaps his hand over Wooyoung’s mouth, face contorted in disgust at the oversharing.

“Do I want to know?” You query Yunho.

“I honestly have no idea, Mingi still hasn’t been with a guy to my knowledge or hooked up with anyone since he transferred.”

Oh, maybe that’s why everyone’s so unsure if he’s good in bed or not.

“We went skinny dipping!”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes while stealing a sip of your drink.

“Ahhh…” Yunho wags his eyebrows, “with San?”

Wooyoung sends Yunho a glare at the mention of Yunho’s opposing frat president, “San stood guard.”

Yunho and Wooyoung appear to be having an argument with their eyes, one that you and Yeosang have apparently not been clued in on. As Yeosang looks at you with confused brows and you shrug in response.

Time to diffuse this before it escalates.

“I really need to meet this DJ.”

You steal your cup back from Wooyoung as another 2000’s club hit comes on.

“Oh, it's just Seonghwa! He wants to see you both,” Wooyoung’s festering mood quickly dissolves as he turns to lead the way to the makeshift DJ booth.

“Just Hwa,” You and Yeosang share a secret smile.

Yeosang had developed a small crush on the upperclassman, something about his eyebrows.

You slip off the counter and Yunho’s lips brush your ear, “that’s your other surprise.”

“Mine or Yeosang’s?”

You laugh lightly, nudging Yeosang in front of you.

By the time you shuffle through all the bodies Mingi is also waiting at the booth. Chatting eagerly to Seonghwa, who is in full alter ego, DJ Mito gear.

Wooyoung excitedly begins to introduce you and Yeosang when Mingi blurts out, “the one that needs to get laid.”

“To clarify, that is not me,” Yeosang raises his hand in earnest.

All of you laugh at both of their honesty. Mingi flushes suddenly dissolving into a giant puppy in front of you, staring at his shoes.

Oh, now this you can definitely work with.

“Well, it’s true.” You shrug, “and you’re the one that’s been selected to take care of that situation for me?”

Mingi looks shyly at you under his brow top teeth worrying his bottom lip before he gives a nod.

You stifle a groan and take a sip of your drink, or more accurately, down it.

Seonghwa’s attention turns back to mixing the music, one ear if his headphones off to listen to your group to the best of his multitasking capability.

Yunho’s laughs and bumps Mingi with his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, she doesn't bite…that hard.”

He teases, draping an arm across Mingi’s shoulders. You clock how Mingi leans eagerly into Yunho’s touch.

Interesting.

Yeosang catches your observing, raising his eyebrows at you to gather your attention.

“You good?” Yeosang mouths and you nod in return, eyes flicking to Seonghwa but Yeosang shakes his head in dismissal.

“Next time,” you mouth back at him and his cheeks flush.

“Yeo come dance with me!”

Wooyoung tugs on Yeosang’s hands, sloshing punch everywhere.

Yeosang rolls his eyes in tender annoyance, “after I wash this off my hands.”

“I’ve got a couple of towels,” Seonghwa tosses one to Yeosang, as Wooyoung snatches the cup to chug the remnants of his drink.

“There! Now let's dance.”

Woo bounces as Yeosang purposely takes his time in drying himself off.

Your eyes flit back to Yunho, who is whispering something to Mingi as Yeosang delicately dabs his hands with the towel. Yunho turns to kiss your temple before collecting a needy Wooyoung, a reluctant Yeosang and pushing Mingi towards you.

“Take care of her Mingles.”

Before you have time to object, three of your friends melt into the crowd and Seonghwa sends you a conspiratorial wink.

Mingi looks up at you from under his bangs, “wanna dance?”

You flash him a startled smile and nod, pulling his hands from his pockets and slinking through the crowd together to a little spot on the floor.

Through the forest of arms, you see Yeosang and Wooyoung with arms draped across each other's shoulders, foreheads touching and hips undulating to the beat. Yunho dances behind them with a mutual friend from a sorority, his eyes find yours and he wags his brows as if he was smirking with his eyes.

Mingi’s hands switch from shy to confident as he turns you to face him, slotting you over his leg and fingers biting softly into your hips. You laugh warmly at his boldness and loop your arms around his neck and roll in time with him. He beams down at you.

“What?” You tilt your head in question.

“Should have known that all of Yunho’s friends can dance.”

Mingi’s hands drift up your back to spin you around, facing away from him.

“I hardly call this dancing,” you call above the music.

His laugh rumbles against your spine and you let him press his front into your backside, your ass molding into the cavern of his hips. Allowing your head to drop back onto his shoulder, swaying your body in tandem with Mingi’s, as his hands skim across the front of your hips.

You make it through three songs, dazedly watching your friends through the crowd. Yunho’s fellow Greek friend has disappeared. He and Yeosang have sandwiched Wooyoung in a slow grind to the current song. Yunho keeps stealing reassuring glances at you and Mingi between the gyrating field of bodies.

Eventually you lose sight of them, sinking into the pleasant hum of your head and thrum of your body. A combination of the bass from Seonghwa’s music and the drink Yunho had mixed for you.

Mingi’s thumb skims under the hem of your top to stroke your stomach, causing you movements to stutter a little bit as he tentatively presses your clothed pussy into his thigh from behind.

“Hi.” Mingi breathes caging you in, “do you want to go upstairs where it is quieter?”

You tilt your head, “eager to get started already?” you tease.

“Something like that,” he nibbles his bottom lip again, waiting for your consenting nod before taking your hand and guiding you back towards the stairs.

On your way up to Mingi’s room you catch sight of Yunho making out with Wooyoung, while Yeosang taps away on his phone ignoring the pair.

A feat which you found so difficult that it causes you to miss a step and fall against Mingi.

Wooyoung is perched on the bar with Yunho between his legs, devouring one another. But that isn’t what causes your stuttering footwork on the stairs, it's Wooyoung’s pretty hands drifting down to clench equal handfuls of Yunho’s ass.

“Are you okay?”

Mingi’s voice snaps you out of your gaping, his warm eyes calling you back to him.

You give him a quick smile, “I will be in a minute.”

This is how you ended up in your current position, sprawled under the massive man named Mingi. He hadn’t even kissed you yet and your blood was already racing each time he looks up at you from under his lashes.

“Are you still okay with this?” His fingertips stroke your cheek.

You nod your mouth parting as his thumb pressed into your bottom lip. Mingi’s resolve was lost when the tip of your tongue flicked against the pad of his finger, a soft moan escaping him before pressing his lips to yours.

The two of you quickly find a dance of lips, teeth and tongue. Mingi licks eagerly into your mouth, almost stealing your air with how hard he sucks on your tongue. You nibble his bottom lip in response. The two of you shudder against each other, gasping for air before diving right back into ravaging one another's mouths.

You let your hands explore his body, over the loose black tee he has tucked into the matching pants. Pulling it loose so that you can trail your fingers up the soft skin of his spine.

Mingi nudges your nose with his, signaling you to tilt your head so that he could get more access. Your pelvis rocks up into his when he sucks your tongue, and he rolls back. A ghost of the moves you had seen earlier.

You tuck your hands into his fluffy faded hair and tug at the nape. Mingi moans low and deep into the back of your throat, the vibrations sending your nipples hard. As if he knew, his hand skidded up to squeeze a breast through your shirt and bra. You nip at his lip in response.

He chuckles low, pulling back to meet your gaze, “do you even know my name?”

“Mingi,” you whisper, and you watch how his pupils dilate in response.

Fueling your next assault, looping your arms around his neck and craning up to kiss each side of his jaw, “Song.”

A kiss to his cheek, “Mingi.”

Lastly, a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Mingi growls and the two of you begin frantically shedding your clothing, as soon as you are naked, he lifts you up the bed to rest against the pillows. He reclines back on his heels, the swell in his boxers looking dangerously bigger than you had anticipated.

“Still want to do this?”

Mingi laughs huskily at your consistently eager nod.

“I’ll go slow,” His voice oozes with reassurance.

You swallow and meet his eyes, sprawled before him like the last dinner, completely nude and exposed. His fingertips dimple into the top of your knees as he drinks you in.

Mingi slowly opens your knees, still testing you for any signs of push back or rejection of consent. You feel your timidness subside when Mingi’s eyes locked eyes with the swell of your pussy, when he couldn’t contain his tongue from flicking out to lick his lips.

Mingi reaches out to run his middle finger firmly down the slick valley of your folds, causing your hips to jerk as he bumps over tender the nerves of your clit.

“Sensitive?”

He looks up at you from under his lashes again, and it takes everything in you to not squeeze your thighs shut and moan

“Yea,” you huff.

“It’s been a while and even then, my ex was always too tired to take care of my needs.”

“Of course he was,” Mingi let out a sarcastic laugh as he thrust two fingers inside you.

You gasp clutching the sheets, hips chasing his hand on their own accord.

“Are you okay?” He asks, gaze rising with the roll of your body until he meets your eyes, “I need to loosen you up a bit, so I don’t hurt you.”

You give a tight nod, breathing deeply through your nose as tendrils of arousal begin to spread their roots as he starts working his fingers. Your body is so keyed up from lack of intimate touch that you’re dousing his hand in what feels like seconds.

“Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

Mingi curls his fingers against the front wall of your cunt and his thumb lazily circles your clit as you pump your hips against his hand in blatant desperation. Chasing the foreign feeling of someone else bringing you to orgasm.

Coming so fast, that you grind your teeth together and clutch his brawny forearm as your body bows off the bed. The first orgasm coasting over you, like your first gasp of air.

Mingi moans at the sight of you and adds another finger, extending your orgasm until you’re trying to roll over to escape it. His other hand pins you to the bed by your thigh. You’re affixed, watching Mingi as he watches you with parted lips. Your hips meeting his thrusting hand and you convulse again. Mingi groans, his hand on your thigh tightening.

“Mingi-Mingi, ngh,” you claw at his arm as you feel the release gush around his fingers.

“That’s enough, I like it a little rough. Please, I want to feel you.”

You’re tugging his wrist and drawing your hips away. Mingi leans forward with a soft huff, brushing his lips against yours before grabbing a condom from the windowsill.

You stare at the sight above you, his rippling abdomen, the impulsive thoughts winning and you raked a hand gently down his stomach. He tenses in response and goose bumps erupt across his chest.

You drag your nails down the divide of his muscles slipping beneath the soft fabric of his fitted boxers and tilt your head back to meet his watchful eyes.

“You’re so soft.”

Mingi lets out a surprised laugh at your compliment, his head dropping to your shoulder.

“Would you like to keep touching me, or me to get started?” He whispers, lips kissing your earlobe.

You tuck your toes into the sides of his boxers and tug them down as a response. Mingi raises an eyebrow at you.

“My ex wasn’t always sex repulsed by me.”

You shrug and Mingi dives to plant another soft kiss on your lips as your fingertips idly stroke his length. Your thumb tracing the pearl of precum around the tip.

“Careful Mingi, you’ll make me think this was all because of me.”

You return his kisses as he mutters an, “it is” against your lips.

A hand coming up to grasp your breast, “all for these and this,” his large hand cups your damp pussy as he sinks back onto his heels.

His thumb strokes your bottom lip, “and really for this mouth and that smile.”

Mingi groans when you nip the tip of his thumb. His teeth rip open the condom in his other hand and he wastes no time in rolling it over his intimidating erection.

“Ready for me?”

Suddenly the shyness washes over him again, he fists his length, hand lightly bracing on your thigh and you can’t stop another eager nod in response.

Mingi holds true to his promise of going slow, rubbing his sheathed erection over your wet folds until you’re begging him to stop. Cunt clenching around nothing, needing to feel the stretch you know he will bring. He grips your hips, eyebrows pinching together as he lines up at your entrance.

You gasp as the fat head of his tip breaks inside, your hips chasing his cock to seek more and Mingi complies with a grunt of his own. Sinking slowly into you, his long fingers spreading your lower lips open to make his leisurely dive smoother for the both of you.

Your lungs feel empty by the time he is fully seated inside of you. His arms slide under your shoulders to hold the nape of your neck as he rocks upwards into you. The movement stroking places you have never felt.

“Oh fuck-" you clutch at his bicep, “Mingi.”

He kisses you again, mouth just as eager as earlier, rolling his hips deep into you as his tongue glosses over yours. Mingi rocks with a controlled place as your body tightens on itself again. His mouth seeks out your breast, tongue laving at your nipple and you gasp as he grazes it with his teeth.

“You like it a little rough right?” He looks up at you as his mouth sucks your nipple behind his teeth.

You cry out a “yes!” at the sensation.

Mingi moans in response around your breast. His hands reach down to wrap your legs around his hips as he sinks impossibly deeper against you. Stretching your entrance with his thick base in a way that makes you lose anything left of your resolve.

You’re filled up entirely with him, it doesn’t take long until you feel the tension building in your core, your walls squeezing around him.

Mingi abandons his marking of your breast to watch you. Clutching his ass, thrusting frantically into his stilled movement as he presses upwards into you so that it’s focused against the sensitive ridges of your glory spot.

“Say my name,” Mingi grunts.

His hands bruise into the valley of where your hips meet your thighs.

“Mingi,” your strangled whine comes, as heat blooms up your neck and across your cheekbones.

He groans holding himself firm, hands gliding up your ribcage to give each of your breasts a synchronized squeeze.

“That’s it baby, use me all you want, this is about you.”

Mingi puffs out short pants, not unaffected by your movements either. Squeezing your breasts entirely with a pitchy whine of his own, as your legs shudder around his thighs.

“Mingi,” you beg and his hand slips to your jaw as your eyes flutter open to meet his.

Mingi’s lips connect with yours, tongues sweeping against each other. Until your head presses back into the pillow as your orgasm crests, as tight as his hand fisting the hair at the nape of your neck.

Mingi starts thrusting into you again, his lips parting, gazes fluttering open to meet and never leaving yours as he picks up speed. Drifting you through your second orgasm or the night.

“Shit,” Mingi grunts in response.

Hips lazily rolling into you, in a way you didn’t know was possible. The top of his pelvis rubbing deliciously against your swollen clit.

“Mingi-”

He moans, “louder.”

“Mingi!”

You cry out in pleasure, and he lets go of his controlled strokes. One final crushing kiss to your lips he reaches down and throws your legs over his shoulders. The two of you moan in unison as he swirls wide circles into your cunt.

“How could anyone ever leave this pussy alone?”

Mingi pins your knees to your shoulders, thrusting your breasts between them obscenely, his eyebrows converging at the sight of you, his breathing becoming ragged.

“Oh god baby,” he sinks his weight into you, stealing your air.

You gasp and tremble in bliss at the depth his dick has reached.

“Mingi,” you breathe.

He continues to rock in and out with half pulled strokes. Ensuring he continues to fill you up entirely, not wanting to miss an inch of your canal seizing around him at his inviting intrusion.

“You look so good like this,” his gaze slips up to meet yours.

Your eyes flick down to the folds of your stomach, your tits bulging between the bracket of your thighs and whimper as you watch Mingi pull almost completely out suddenly and press back in slowly.

Who the fuck is this kid?

“Let's just do this a couple of times, please.”

You give him half a nod. Too taken by watching him. Gasping in rapture each time his body shudders, as you squeeze around his tip when he matches it to the entrance of your pussy.

Your insides fighting each thrust back in, a budding feeling so intense you can barely hold your eyes open. Sharp sounds leaving your lips in little uhts and uhs. Nails embedding into the caps of his shoulders.

“Does it feel good?” Mingi huffs, sounding strained.

Finally.

“So good Mingi,” you whimper.

“You're so wet for me, fuck. Can you come again?”

You gasp a “yes!”

Mingi thrusts in, pressing his hips up into your clit again causing the orgasm to begin unfurling.

“Oh god” you whimper, “they keep coming.”

Mingi lets out a stutter of groans intermingled with a raspy laugh, when your cunt clamps down on him. His jaw tightens and you fall apart when he firmly wedges himself inside, hand coming up to press on your stomach. You cry out silently as he repeats the motion until he gets what he is seeking.

You spray the lower part of his stomach, the cute little swell that sits between the peaks of his hip bones and he lets a ragged breath at the sight of you ruined underneath him.

“Oh oh-oh,” you thrash as your legs try to straighten at the sensation.

“Fuck yes!”

Mingi’s resolve finally breaks, hooking his thumbs into the ditch of your knees and letting loose. Hips pounding against yours as the waves of your orgasm roll back to form a new crest. His face hovering above yours, eyes lowered to watch how you take him, and he groans, gaze lifting to meet your lidded one.

You clutch at the blankets, face titling and greeting Mingi’s lips sloppily as you pant into each other's mouths between haphazard kisses.

Your body’s connecting with wet laps and tight thrusts. His damp chest brushing your stiffened nipples in an opportune way that has you coming again. The hardest one of the night, from the multiple points of stimulation happening to your body.

Maybe the hardest one ever.

Mingi’s body jerks and he lets out a booming version of your name as your insides clench him, spilling his own release into the condom as your orgasm seizes his cock. You cry out louder than all your grunts and moans before.

He lets your legs go and they numbly butterfly open around his waist, as your body trembles under his continuous motions.

Mingi whispers your name in repetition as he tosses his head back, toned hips working the both of you through the aftershocks.

You open your eyes when the roaring in your ears subsides and Mingi’s are still closed, his forehead pressed to yours. One hand braced on the pillow beside your head and the other idly stroking your calf.

“Fuck,” he swallows loudly.

You let out a breathy laugh and his eyes flutter open, and slowly, while holding your gaze he shifts back. Kissing each of your thighs as he lowers them, hands spreading across the soft of your stomach and rubbing back down to your front of your hips

“Are you ok?”

“Yea, very ok.”

Mingi smiles scooting back to slowly pull out. You shudder as the warmth of your own release leaks out of you and Mingi moans.

“You came so hard,” his thumb circles your entrance causing your hips to lift off the bed and a lewd moan to escape you- “don’t move.”

Mingi removes his hand, slipping off the bed to remove the condom. Tying it in a knot and tossing it into the bin by his desk.

He returns to you, erection still bobbing as he looks down at you with those hungry, dragon eyes. Seeking treasure.

“Can I?”

His eyes flick to yours, tongue peeking out the corner of his lips.

“Can you what?”

You shuffle up on tired elbows and yelp as Mingi sends you right back flat, tugging you to the end of the bed as he lowers into a crouch.

“What do you think, can I clean you up?”

You shift up again, nodding a little shyly and Mingi grins devilishly before opening you wide to him again.

“I’ll make it worth the trouble for you.”

“Trouble for me-umph.”

The question dies in your throat. There is no kitten licking or test kisses, he dives right in mouth suctioned to your dripping core. Sucking licking and moaning into the sensitive flesh.

“Oh fuck, Mingi!”

Your head drops between your shoulders as his hands wrap around the tops of your thighs, his nose bumping your clit with the passionate way he’s devouring your pussy.

“What happened to the bashful guy downsta-ah,” you break off into a wail.

Mingi moans as you shudder, undeniably leaking more arousal into his waiting mouth, you grasp at his hand, and he takes hold of your fingertips as the other sinks into his hair and he groans into your cunt when you pull.

“Mingi!”

Shamelessly rubbing your pelvis into his face as the tension starts to tighten again. Your brain is on fire with the feeling of his mouth on you, in combination with the pleasant ache in your core where he had just been. It’s all too much, and all too good at the same time.

“Mingi, Mingi, Mingi,” you chant softly, “oh Mingi!”

He laps at you again and again in a way either of you can’t seem to get enough of by the telltale way he’s got a crushing grasp on your thighs as if his broad shoulders aren’t enough to keep you open to him. Mingi groans into your cunt, tongue flexing inside your entrance. Just as you're climaxing nicely you feel his teeth graze your clit.

Stars explode, never in your life had you felt your vision go dark and white at the same time. You cry out so strangely that you don’t even recognize your own voice. Your spine arching until the band snaps and sends you collapsing back against the bed, wheezing for air.

“Too much?”

You feel rather than see Mingi leave a kiss to your sex swollen pussy.

“What-what, the fuck was that?”

He huffs a laugh through his nose, “told you I’d make it worth it.”

Mingi slips from between your thighs and the bed sags on either side of your ribs, his lower half cloaking yours with welcome warmth as your eyes finally regain their ability to open.

You touch his cheek, gazing at him with newfound admiration, “who taught you to fuck like this?”

Mingi laughs and lowers his eyes almost bashfully, you groan. His intermittent shyness will no doubt be the death of you, and Yunho.

“Hey baby, we are going to miss breakfast if you don’t wake up.”

Mingi’s deep timbre melodiously sweeps into your dreamless sleep.

You groan, stretching around his body that’s sitting next to you on the bed. Eyes drifting open to find a much more scholarly version of the demon that turned your body into the aching, sated mess it is now.

“Are those real?”

Mingi touches the wire frame of his glasses, laughing shyly.

“Yea.”

“Mmm, so cute,” you pull him down for a kiss.

Mingi moans into your moan and suddenly your body isn’t so sore anymore. Hands drifting to the open collar of the buttons on his henley.

“Come on, our friends are waiting for us to head to breakfast.”

You groan in protest, kissing his neck.

“I could eat you for breakfast.”

Mingi moans low, his hand supporting your neck in a way that tells you he’s as close to giving up on food as you are, but his growling stomach makes you stop. His cheeks and ears turn pink

He retrieves a t-shirt and sweats that had been sitting at the foot of the bed, “picked you some of my stuff so you don’t have to do the walk of shame.”

“Careful, I might develop a little crush on a thoughtful guy like you.”

He nuzzles you again, “get dressed please, I want to eat and then come back and have you again. If that’s ok with you?”

Mingi pulls back to meet your gaze, puppy eyes on full display. Internally you’re crumbling into a swooning pile of nothing.

Fuck.

“Yes, please.” You peck him on the lips before climbing out from under his covers.

Mingi sits back against the headboard and watches you slip into the clothes he’s lending you. His eyes furrowed in thought.

“Why didn’t you just hook up with Yunho?” Mingi asks from his sprawled position on the bed, taking a swig of the water he’d put on the nightstand for you.

“Because Yunho and I never have sex without a third,” You tug his shirt down, “and he wanted me fuck you first, before he takes you or us to bed.”

You laugh as Mingi sputters and chokes on the water, his cheeks flaming.

You climb into his lap completely dressed, “not that you really needed a test run in my opinion.”

“Does that mean, all of us…together?”

You bite back a moan as Mingi looks at you with the widest puppy eyes you never knew he could display.

You raise an eyebrow, “are you trying to convince me to skip breakfast?”

“Breakfast first, we'll need our energy.”

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translatemunson · 10 months ago

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the tortured firefighters department • evan "buck" buckley

series summary: Each year, 240 million calls are made to the 9-1-1 in the United States. For the Los Angeles County Fire Department, it averages 1,200 calls a day. You could do the math and lay down all the probabilities of crossing the country all the way to the sunny — and full of catastrophes — L.A. for a PhD and ending up in a new 9-1-1 call center. But you could never solve the Buckley problem in front of you.

this is a evan "buck" buckley x fem!reader series

warnings: fem!reader, afab!reader, no specific details about reader appearance are given (lmk if i let something slip), slight divergence from the 9-1-1 tv show timeline (hey, it's a fanfic, i can do whatever i want), mentions of violence, mentions of disasters, mentions of medical conditions, mental issues themes. more specific warnings will be provided at each chapter.

chapters

chapter one — devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

chapter two — we play dumb but we know exactly what we’re doing

chapter three — these days I'm restless, work days are endless

chapter four — thought of calling you, but you won't pick up

chapter five — when my depression works the graveyard shift

chapter six — it always ends up with a town car speeding

chapter seven — don’t you dare look out the window, darling, everything’s on fire

chapter eight — cat and mouse for a month or two or three

more chapters to be announced

blurbs

blurb — you’ve been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks (takes place between the events of chapter two and three)

blurb (requested) — touch me and you'll never be alone (you need to read chapter six to understand it)

special content:

spotify playlist by the lovely @live-love-be-unique HERE

series note: i have planned out a timeline for the series, which means we are getting a lot of development for them (so reading chapters with a number is required if you wanna understand the series). BUT i'm also open to take suggestions of what you wanna see (maybe it's a scene, maybe you saw this prompt and think it matches the TTFD vibes), so please don't be shy and send me your ideas and suggestions via askbox or dms.

author's note: hi guys! first of all, english is not my first language and, even though i'm a writer in my mother language, i still struggle to put ideas on paper in english. so bear with me and my mistakes, ok? new obsession, new fic, ofc. wanted to explore a reader that is not just a dispatcher, but also have some things inspired by my own hobbies and struggles.

banners credits to @cafekitsune

#effie writes #evan buckley fanfic #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #9 1 1 abc #9 1 1 fanfiction #evan buck buckely #buck fanfiction #evan buckley imagine

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kechiwrites · 1 year ago

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property lines

dark!steve rogers x neighbour!reader

kinktober countdown: day two (facefucking).

synopsis: your neighbour is inappropriate, and you aren’t quite sure how to broach the subject.

wc: 2.2k

cw: dark content, non con, oral (male receiving), femme language + afab!reader, pet names, internal victim blaming, pet names (sweetheart), a touch of misogyny

author’s note: day 2 brings us more dark!steve, i fear i may be incapable of writing him sincerely. he’s just a little too perfect. I like to take off a bit of the shine. thank you @katsukikitten u r my muse.

Your neighbour is inappropriate, and you aren’t quite sure how to broach the subject. Mostly because you can’t be sure if he’s doing it on purpose or if he’s just overly friendly. Maybe it’s the signals you give off, bringing a plate of thick, sweet, cheesecake brownies over to the recently sold house next door, hoping to make a new connection. Suburbia can be isolating, and with all of your friends shaking ass in the city, you need to branch out. It really isn’t the kind of home you figured a single man like Steven Grant Rogers would buy, but then again, you lived in your suburban palace alone, willed to you by your late grandmother and only in need of a few renovations.

He’d been so bright, when you first met him, with a perfect white smile and twinkling blue eyes. He’d been happy to accept the desserts, even happier to return the plate a day later, extolling the praise he and his poker buddies lauded on you over the taste. You’d shrugged it off, “The least I could do for a neighbour. I’m just glad you all liked them.”

Secretly though, the compliments had thrilled you, especially once you’d gotten a glimpse at the aforementioned “poker buddies”, the whole lot of them, handsome, built, big. All too happy to fix leaky pipes and paint fences in exchange for chocolate cream pie or a dish of homemade lasagna. But Steven - “Steve, please” - was your most loyal customer, always lending a hand, pausing during his early morning jog to check up on you while you watered your flower beds, asking how your book is going, what you do in that “big old house all by yourself” when you aren’t working on “the next great American novel”, of course (his words, not yours).

It’s fine at first, a little disarming to be at the centre of his white hot attention, burning your flesh like he had you under a magnifying glass on a perfect sunny day. But eventually it’s not fine, eventually Steve Rogers takes more and more steps over the property line of overly friendly and into the front yard of wildly overbearing. Eventually, Mr. Rogers insists on weekly visits, popping into your house by using the spare key under the mat he shouldn’t even know about. Slinging his muscled arm over you during the neighbourhood block party, and your neighbour’s son’s 5th birthday party, and the Fourth of July barbeque. He fixes your car without you asking, brings in your groceries when he sees you unloading them in your driveway, brings your mail to you during his daily jog. It’s helpful sometimes, yes, but it’s also suffocating. And you were going to set him straight. You were! But it’s hard, hard to stare into the face of a suburban god, the literal king of the neighbourhood and tell him no. It’s hard to tell him that he’s making you uncomfortable, that you’d like for him to stop being so goddamn friendly all the time.

So maybe a little of it is your fault. Maybe you should’ve been clearer on your boundaries. Maybe, when handsome, strapping Mr. Rogers came to your front door to ask you to essentially cater one of his poker nights, you shouldn’t have stayed to serve the food, playing happy little housewife in front of Steve’s friends, bringing them cold beers from the fridge and sitting next to Steve, playfully making faces at his hand, then plating up dessert when he asked you to. But it felt good to have his attention. His favour. So when “the boys” start to head home, laying praise and amazement at your feet, you’re sufficiently buttered up for Steve to ask yet another favour of you. It’s not much, of course. Just a little help with cleanup. Then he’ll escort you home himself. After all, there are some real sickos out there.

So you agree. What’s the harm, right?

The harm, it just so happens, comes quickly after you finish drying the dishes Steve washes. You slide the last plate, towel dried as best you could, into his cabinets, sighing in contentment at a job well done. The harm is when Steve turns you around and presses you against the sink, water soaking into the back of your blouse, making the fabric cling to your skin. You stay there for a minute, not processing what’s happening, ready to laugh off another inappropriate joke from Steve.

You don’t really get the chance.

Two heavy hands clap down on your shoulders, exerting pressure on you until you crumple to the floor, knees hitting the tile of Steve's kitchen painfully. You yelp, struggling against him, pressing, then beating your fist against his tree trunk legs.

"Stev-" you choke on his name when your neighbour unzips his trousers before you, undoes the fly of the pair you helped him pick out, with him bent over your shoulder while you held his phone, his front pressed close to your back. Pulls his half hard dick out of pants starched and pressed with the iron he'd borrowed from you because his was "on the fritz" again.

"Open up." He cajoles, and you pin him with an incredulous, confused stare. No. No. This is all wrong. He doesn’t act like that. Steve Rogers isn’t like that.

The hand he doesn't use to stroke himself grabs your jaw, squeezing until you open your mouth, squeezing til it hurts. A sharp, purposeful punch of his hips is all it takes for him to make use of the opening. All it takes to put every little joke, boundary crossing, and stray touch into startling, horrifying perspective.

“It was the baking.” He whispers above you. “Peggy never baked, which was fine.” He sighs above you like he isn’t pistoning his cock deep into your throat with reckless abandon. “But I missed it, y’know? And you, you bake how angels ought to, sweetheart.”

Tears stream down your face while Steve uses you, dragging your dazed, crying face back and forth on his hard-on. On a particularly strong thrust, he broaches your throat. Your eyes roll up, until he can barely see the perimeter of your irises, and you warble out a miserable moan, begging, all while wrapped around his dick, for a reprieve. Your head is pinned to the counter behind you, and even though you shove against the muscle of his thighs, Steve brooks no quarter.

“Just take it,” he coos, like he wants you to swallow cough syrup, “it’ll be over soon.” his breath stutters when your lips brush against his balls. Steve moves one of his hands to cup the back of your head, keeping you as close as possible when he comes down your throat, groaning in pleasure while you struggle to swallow stream after bitter stream of his seed, lest you choke on it or fucking drown.

He finally releases you, and you pull back so fast you bang the back of your head on his pristine white counters. The pain radiates through your scalp, grounding you in the moment, cementing you to the spotless linoleum floor of Steve Rogers’ kitchen. You’re both panting, eager to fill your lungs with gulps of air.

“Whew.” He sighs, hands on his hips, like that took a lot out of him. “I didn’t mean to get so rough with you, just didn’t expect the struggle.” He chuckles, patting you on the head. “But you settled down quick, didn’t ya?” His tone takes on…contentment? Happiness?

No. That’s not quite right.

It’s pride. Steve is looking down at you, your spit and cum slick mouth, the weepy, watery state of your eyes, and the disarray of the hair he’d used as a handle, with pride.

Your stomach roils.

He bends low and you flinch away from him, smacking your head on the countertop again. He cocks his head at the involuntary movement, and smiles at you. A familiar, warm thing. One that made your heart flutter with pleasure, beat fast with your own surge of pride when he accepted a pie, or offered a compliment. Now it does the same, your heart speeds up, your palms itch curiously, and your brain doesn’t know if you’re happy or sad. Doesn’t know if it craves those smiles anymore.

“Just wanna set you on your feet. C’mon.” He speaks quietly, like he’s soothing a frightened animal, and hooks his hand under your armpits, heaving you up with the same startling strength he'd used to face fuck the fight out of you.

“It’s okay.” You bleat, voice as wobbly and unstable as the pair of legs struggling to keep you upright. And it’s not, it’s far from okay, the taste of him lingers in the back of your throat and if you think about it for even a second more you’ll throw up all over his shiny floors, on those godforsaken pants.

“I admit,” he laughs, ducks his head with that small town charm he does so well, “I wanted to last longer. But you were too good.” He winks at you, like you share a secret. Like you’re in league with each other.

He staring, waiting for you to say something, arches a brow like it’s your line and you’re fucking up the show.

But there it is again, that smile, sunny and open, and so pristine.

“Let’s get you home.” He herds you towards his front door, hand glued to the small of your back, his pinky finger stroking the skin exposed by the riding up of your still wet shirt. The two of you walk into the balmy summer air, and the spaces in between the black night, punctuated with the occasional white streetlight, designate your path home. Some of your neighbours’ houses are still illuminated, their warm yellow windows denoting the presence of life. You wonder what goes on behind their doors, you wonder if someone is having a good night somewhere close to you.

You come across your door faster than you were prepared for, the cheery yellow paint job Steve and James had done for caramel apple pie, mocks you. The way he’d smiled in your face, touched you, laughed. Steve shifts next to you, holding onto your extensive tower of pyrex and tupperware, for an instant your blood runs cold at the prospect of Steve inviting himself in, like he’s done so many times before. Not to bring in groceries or put together a dresser, but to pin you prone to the carpet of your bedroom and smile at you.

“So!” He turns, “Same time next week?” You gawk at him, and when you don’t say or do anything, he stoops and slides your extra keys out from under your Garfield emblazoned doormat. The jingle of two, simple metal keys against the little bell shaped key-chain makes your head pound, your blood boil. He unlocks the door, and gestures for you to take a step indoors. You raise both hands, palms upturned so he can give the keys back, so you can hide them, or melt them, or flush them down the toilet. Instead, you get to watch him slip the key-ring into his pocket, before he places your dishes into your uplifted open palms. “I gotta say, the lemon bars were a hit.” He tweaks your nose between his thumb and forefinger, his compliment tempered by the greedy shine in his eyes. You nearly scratch your own eyes out when you get that pleased, soft tingle in your chest.

He smiles and you salivate. He compliments you and your heart responds. He’s proud and your brain tells you ‘I’m happy’.

Why hasn’t it gone away? Will it ever go away?

“Maybe those brownies again, the cream cheese ones?” His voice is hopeful, soft and pliant, like he’s worried you’ll say ‘no’.

Like there’s a world where he’d take no for an answer.

You nod, a jerky, quick gesture that rattles your brain around in your skull. “Sure. Yeah.” You answer, sweaty hands slipping against tempered glass and plastic lids. “Yes. Brownies.” Steve beams, clapping his hands together, once, loud, drawing your eyes to the brutish width of them.

“Fantastic. I can’t wait.” He jogs down your front steps, and the fist secured around your lungs loosens with every step he takes away from you. He pauses at the side walk, one foot still on your property, the other poised to leave it.

“We make a great team. Don’t we?” He turns to you, and this time, he isn’t smiling. This time, his eyes cut through the night and the streetlight and the foggy haze of misfortune clouding your brain.

And the fear finally comes.

You kick your door closed, and you lock your door, and you drop your pyrex and tupperwear and serving spoons in the sink and you lock your windows and you get into bed, still dressed for a poker night you had no business being at, and you pull the covers up and up and over your face.

But the fear doesn’t go away.

And neither will your neighbour.

god i want him so bad. tomorrow, captain soap.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

support city girls who bought $50 of baked cheesecake today, reblog what you like.

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kittyoncescribbled · 5 months ago

Text

Check-Mate.

Summary: Mihawk thought he was too old to believe in silly things like love at first sight, but things change;

Word count: 2,453;

Rating/Content Warnings: PG-16, AFAB reader;

Author’s note: Hi, guys! This is my first time writing for Mihawk; he might be a little OOC, but I'm still trying to find my footing with him. Feedback would be deeply appreciated. Please reblog/like if you enjoy this!

Previous chapter || Next chapter

You stared down at your plate, trying not to look miserable.

Sanji had outdone himself once again and brought out a dinner that seemed more fit to a king — and you knew it, as you were now a fugitive princess who escaped an evil uncle who wanted to marry you off to any weak man who he could control and, by extension, keep his hold on the throne and power: more specifically, your power, as you had eaten a devil fruit and now has something similar to Midas’ touch. But looking down at the plate in front of you, you couldn't help but notice that it was beautiful, smelled delicious, and you were sure that it tasted heavenly… but it was different.

Not from most of the crew; your plate looked the exact same as the ones in front of Luffy, Usopp, or even Zoro. But Nami and Robin had plates adorned with flowers and beautifully placed garnishes in front of them. It was evident how much time, effort, and appreciation had gone into their presentations.

It was quite common at this point, and you took notice of it almost instantly. Sanji was the one who helped you escape after some of the servants in the castle tr, guiding you by the hand through the streets of your city — the streets you didn't know, as your uncle had kept you hiding inside the guarded walls of the castle since you were a young girl — and into the Thousand Sunny; you chose to go with the strawhats, and now there was a hefty bounty prize to whoever brought you back home alive.

And you couldn't help but fall head over heels for Sanji, the first person ever to show you kindness or to see you as a person, not just someone from the royal family or their entryway into fortune or power. And it was painful to see how differently he treated you when compared to the other girls on the crew or to any pretty woman from the islands you guys visited; you could never accuse Sanji of being rude or mean, but he just treated you the same way he treated the guys or Chopper, and you just sat there ruminating on why would that be — you weren't pretty enough, nice enough, feminine enough?

All of that went through your mind while you stared down at your plate, and you could see the looks from Nami, Usopp, and Robin; they all kind of knew how you felt about Sanji — not that you were able to hide it — and the sadness showing up in your eyes made them empathetic. But it's not like you had openly talked about it with them, so none of them felt comfortable asking you if you were okay.

“Sanji, why is YN's plate different?” Chopper asked sweetly. You felt the cook freeze on the spot and grabbed your fork and knife as if you didn't hear it. “What do you mean, Chopper?” “Well, Nami and Robin’s plates and drinks are always prettier and nicer because they're women, right? So why does Y/N get regular food like the rest of us?”

“It's okay, Chopper,” you said with a smile to the doctor. “It's fine. Sanji's cooking is the best with flowers or without, right?”

“Y-YN, m'sorry, let me take care of it and—” Sanji started, his face beet red, trying to get the plate back, but you grabbed his wrist, startling him. “Don't.”

Your tone was icy and harsh, as they had never heard before, and the shift in the room's atmosphere was noticeable; the tension could be cut with a knife. Embarrassed, you simply grabbed your plate and went back to your dorm, locking the door behind you.

It was now days later, and things were still weird between you and Sanji. Chopper had asked for your forgiveness, but you had repeatedly reassured him that there was nothing to be forgiven. You did your best to avoid Sanji and the others, choosing to spend most of your days on a little spot of the deck Franky had added some stuff for you: a chess table with magnetic pieces so they wouldn’t get knocked over by the constant movement of the boat and a telescope. You still did your chores and helped, but you chose to be in your quarters or play chess alone.

On that specific afternoon, you were doing laundry — the little laundry you had, as you were still a bit uncomfortable buying clothes for yourself, and your old clothes, all frilly lace and flowy dresses, weren’t fit for life in a pirate ship; Robin once chuckled and said that you, always wearing jeans and white button-ups, looked like a cartoon character and Nami had promised she’d take you out for a shopping spree on the next island with good shops — when a commotion started on the deck. Leaving your load of laundry behind, you grabbed your bow and ran to the deck.

Dracule Mihawk stood there like an exotic animal, and you, still holding your bow up, made your way until you were close to Robin. “So… there’s a Cross Guild member on our deck, and no one’s doing anything about it?”

“That’s Zoro’s mentor,” Robin explained with a small chuckle. “And he said there are things he needs to discuss with our captain.”

The small exchange between you and Robin caught Mihawk’s attention, and you froze in your place, unable to react under such an intense gaze. Lowering your weapon, you regained some of your spirit and stood straight, staring right back at his yellow eyes, not backing down when he made his way toward you.

“Your royal highness,” Mihawk said with a courtesy, and, out of habit more than anything else, you presented your hand, which he brought to his lips without ever breaking eye contact. In the corner of your eye, you could see Nami and Robin raising eyebrows and Zoro looking like he was about to combust, but none of that mattered. Luffy showed up on deck, and Mihawk slowly made his way to the captain. After a short exchange of words, Luffy guided the swordsman to somewhere where they could talk a bit more privately, and you relaxed, still next to Robin. From across the deck, Sanji stared at you fiercely and seemed to be biting his lips, but you simply turned your back and returned to your laundry.

Mihawk was far too old to believe in love at first sight, or at least that is what he thought.

He had his fair share of lovers throughout the years, but those were just flings; someone to scratch the itch, if you will. Nothing ever lasted for more than a couple of weeks, and he never bothered to make it last. He was quite content with that, as he very much enjoyed the silence and peace in his life, especially now that neither Zoro nor Perona were there to cause a stir, but he had felt intrigued by you ever since he had read about your escape on the paper; coincidentally he had matters to discuss with Luffy, so he could take a good look on your, and take a good look he did.

Even in regular clothing that seemed too plain for you, you still seemed regal — it was something in your posture and how you held your head high. If you thought he looked out of place as an exotic bird, Mihawk could say the same about you; he could read in your body language that you still felt out of your element — like when you were holding your bow, much more like someone used to hunt for sport than to be in the middle of battle shooting arrows at enemies. The pictures in the papers or wanted posters did you no justice, as they couldn’t capture the expression of longing and sadness in your eyes or the way you bit your lips, unsure of what to do next.

As much as Mihwak would have adored spending more time admiring you, he was there on business, so he excused himself and retreated to discuss some important topics with Luffy.

And even though he couldn't deny that he looked for you the same way a moth looked for a flame, Mihawk pushed the “love of first sight” idea to the back of his mind. Attraction, definitely; infatuation, maybe. But love?

That wasn’t a possibility.

He wasn't expecting to see you alone on deck when he was preparing to leave. Enjoying the sunshine, you sat in front of a game of chess, seemingly trying to understand what the next move would be. Without making a sound, Mihawk walked until he was standing behind you, and, without saying a word, he reached his arm and moved one of the white bishops.

Startled, you turned over on your chair and looked up at the swordsman. “That was the best next move. What to do next?” he asked, looking attentively into your eyes. You stuttered for a moment, eyes darting everywhere while trying to think of the right answer. “Come on, take your time, Your Royal Highness. There is no right or wrong answer here.” Mihawk said with a low chuckle while taking the seat directly in front of you and putting his sword down close to him.

“Yes, there is,” you retorted, holding your chin with one hand and tapping on the table with the other. “If I make the wrong move, that's a check. And there's no need to use titles here, please. Outside the realm, I'm not ‘royal highness’; I'm just Y/N.”

“As you wish, miss Y/L/N.” Mihawk felt very happy with himself when he saw a light blush creeping up your neck and ears. “But tell me, why would you be here by yourself?”

“My apologies, sir, but why are you sitting here, asking me this? You don't seem the type to enjoy small talk,” you asked uncertainly, not trying to be rude but genuinely intrigued.

“I am merely curious about you, miss Y/L/N. You're a runaway princess in a pirate ship with a crew famous for getting themselves in trouble. You are an interesting person, and I want to know more about you.” The tips of your ears turned into a brighter shade of red.

“Ah, there was a situation the other day. And I'm feeling a little embarrassed about it, so I’d much rather stay by myself.”

“Just… A situation?”

“Yeah, I’m not about to start sharing the owes of my pathetic love life with a man I don’t know,” she said with a bitter smile.

“Would it have something to do with the cook, who is over there looking like he wants to kick the lights out of me?” Y/N rolled her eyes and made her move on the chess board. “Just… ignore him. Whatever happened, it’s unimportant”.

Mihawk simply acquiesced and made his move on the chess board. Eventually, you two fell into a comfortable silence while playing. You kept your focus on the chess board, attentively studying and thinking about your next move, but Mihawk was studying you.

You were clearly not comfortable in your own skin yet; your clothes, as simple as they were, showed that you were not sure what style would suit you best or that you, under the thumb of your uncle from a young age, still had to figure out what clothes you liked best. Your hair, pulled back in a ponytail, probably reached your waist, but maybe you had no idea how to style it. You were someone being free for the first time in your life,

“Would you like to drink something? I wouldn’t get you the boat fuel that Zoro likes to drink, but I do have some red wine in my cabin,” she asked tentatively. Mihawk nodded and watched as she walked away, groaning internally as the blond cook took her place.

“What are you doing with Y/N?”

Mihawk stared down at the blond and tilted his head, feigning ignorance; you didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that had transpired between you and the cook, and he wasn’t one to be intrusive into others' personal lives. “Playing chess and having a glass of wine. Why?”

Sanji pressed his lips into a thin line, grabbing the chess board so hard his knuckles turned white. “You’re trying to flirt with her? Romance her? Get laid?”

“I am merely getting to know the lady. That’s all. She is quite a beautiful woman, though, and I believe that if something were to happen, she wouldn’t need to ask for permission from any of you. And I also believe this conversation is over,” Mihawk said with a voice smooth as silk, his hand gliding over his sword’s handle — a silent but powerful warning. Sanji looked in the direction of your steps, seeing you coming over with two glasses and a wine bottle.

He glanced at Mihawk, radiating rage, but got up and went back to the kitchen.

You took back your sit and poured over the wine for the both of you, completely ignoring Sanji and pretending you didn’t see him. With your wine glass in hand, you pulled your knee close to your chess and mulled over your next move. The two of you again fell under a silent spell, sipping on the wine you had brought out and waiting for the others' turn to be over. You tried your best not to stare but managed to steal a couple of glances at the warlord, still wondering why such a man would be spending his time at the deck of the Thousand Sunny, playing chess. It felt good to spend time with someone who didn’t look at you pitifully, though, and it had been a long time since you had a chess partner, so you weren’t going to complain.

“Ah! Check-mate!” you said, triumphant, your lips parting in a bright smile while you picked the king from Mihawk’s side of the chessboard.

“Well done, miss Y/L/N,” Mihawk had a gentle look and something on his lips that, to someone who knew him quite well, could be considered a small smile. “I do have to go; I am afraid I might have overextended your crew’s generosity by overstaying, but after my discussion with your captain, it is my understanding that you will have to stop by my island. It would be my pleasure to have a rematch.” Mihawk stood up and, again, reached for your hand.

“Of course, sir,” you said as he kissed your knuckles before grabbing his things and leaving.

Sanji watched all of this from afar, seething.

#mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #one piece fanfic #one piece #✍🏾 kitty writes

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residenthughes · 1 year ago

Text

mad at me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x afab reader

word count: 3.5k

tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, smut, unprotected p in v (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), creampie, praise, spitting & choking (nothing crazy, i promise!), use of pet names (my girl, sweetheart, baby, princess, sweetheart), slight degradation (if you squint?)

summary: jack's latest game has tensions running high and feelings left unresolved. lucky for him, you know just the solution.

notes: so...this is happening 😭 this is very much inspired by the devils latest game against the kings where jack got pretty heated 😵‍💫 who doesn't love a bit of angry! jack? 🫣 but yes, as i've mentioned before, i don't usually write smut, so this may not be the best so any tips or comments you guys have to share would be much appreciated! 💗this has been partially edited, so if you see any errors along the way, they'll be fixed soon! as always, thank you for reading and hope you enjoy! much love! <333

It takes a lot for Jack to get mad.

A sequence of events that all come to a boil, a mountain of incidents that snowball into an avalanche of his wrath. He’s so sweet, like sunny Sunday mornings that smell of fluffy pancakes and honey syrup - so, even now, so far into your relationship, you’re aware that moments like these occur. Of course, emotions wear thin like tired socks and you’re no stranger to your own and Jack’s that have seen all shades of the rainbow, but perhaps there’s something in the air, some electricity that changes the wiring of your brain because tonight is so different from the rest. Dissimilar from when you leave Jack be when his big emotions demand their place, unlike how you wrap each other in blankets of comfort when tensions have eased and everything is whole again. Because, again, this is not about you. It’s about Jack and how, as the universe has written it to be, gravity pulls straight towards him.

Things have been good - he’s come back from injury, back to his kingdom on the ice and the Devils have won back to back games - truly unheard of during their current season, beating their last opponent in regulation for the first time since 2009. It’s a big deal - the smile on Jack’s face says so, the satisfaction of his tone indicating so when he’s come back from his away games. So, you want this happiness to continue, because you love him and the happiness he illuminates but at the end of the day, his job is hockey. A coin toss of wins and losses that you’re trying to wrap your head around because you’re biassed and see all the commitment that him and his teammates put in everyday. As a result of this, Thursday happens; a dice roll of events that spiral into chaos.

You’re back home in Jersey, comfortably situated on the couch in the warmth of an ending winter that shows peaks of an upcoming spring. You’ve got popcorn in your lap because you’ve rediscovered how much you love the savoury snack, happily munching away as Jack’s game starts and the adrenaline kicks in. The first period is eventful with many saves that have you clawing at the couch, but then the second period starts and all hell breaks loose. Tensions run high and as level-headed as Jack is, he is not immune to agitation - subjected to a nasty hit into the boards, the opposing player purposely banging his elbow into Jack’s head. You’re about to start yelling at your TV screen like some drunken sailor because Jack’s been injured this season and doesn’t need more time away from what he loves, but Jack decides to get his lick back and you’re automatically silenced. Your jaw drags the length of the floor as you watch him crosscheck the hell out the guy, proceeding to rough the player up before referees interfere. Jack and the guy are arguing back and forth as they’re escorted into their teams’ penalty boxes and you’re just left bewildered, a mess of emotions with wide eyes as your stomach turns.

You watch astounded as Jack flushes in his temporary plastic home, eyes wide at he hurtles comments that leave the opposing player with a sour taste in his mouth. Jack’s shaking his head when he’s gotten what he needs off his chest, wiping away his sweat as his anger grinds to a simmer. Your eyes are glued to the TV, perched on the edge of your seat as your heart beats hard in your bruising chest. The power play continues on but you’re lost in a trance, awaiting Jack’s emergence from the penalty box that can’t come soon enough. Once he’s out, he’s sprinting for the puck and manages to get a breakaway that assures New Jersey a goal, but the loser in the penalty box with him is hot on his heels and Jack misses. He’s fuming once again, ranting to the referee that pays him no mind. Jack skates off, smashing his stick against the glass before he’s back on the bench and completely snaps it in half, a string of profanities leaving his lips.

You sit there in awe, your grinding teeth sinking into the flesh of your fingers as your brain becomes an all-consuming pile of filth. Your precious boy, who loves his three hour long naps and looks at you like you hang the stars in the sky, the hopeless romantic who pulls out all the stops for you simply because you deserve it and who holds you as if you’re fine china - he’s almost unrecognisable now, wearing his emotions like the number of his jersey as his expression pinches and his azure eyes narrow. A rush of emotions you both experience that make a home in the chaos of your minds that long leave the remnants of their havoc.

The clatter of Jack’s hockey bag echoes from the doorway, bringing you out of the syrupy daze you’ve been submerged in far too long. You leap off the couch as your body carries you towards the front door, electricity rippling down the ridges of your spine as your skin tingles with the unknown. You keep your emotions at bay for the time being, unsure of what state Jack may be in as you creep around the corner and catch an eyeful of his demeanour - blinding annoyance. An exasperated sigh pushes from his chest as he slips off his trusted beanie, the ruffle of his wet curls bouncing as his fingers card through his hair. You gulp.

“Ro?” you test the waters - short and sweet just to gauge his reaction, anticipation hanging in the air.

“Hey.” he bites, not bothering with looking your way as he shimmies his coat off with more force than necessary.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, feeling helpless. “I saw the game…”

“The one I almost got fucking injured in?” he chirps, looking at you now with a pointed stare that burns with all the fire in his heart. No longer azure, his eyes singe with an almost midnight hue. “What a shitshow.”

“That was a dangerous hit, that guy’s got whatever’s coming to him,” you’re quick to reply, taking small steps towards Jack who hangs up his coat. “But that doesn’t change the fact that people pay to watch you play.”

Jack stills in his movements, figure unmoving momentarily before his eyes throw you a lasting glance, the beginnings of a smirk working amongst his roseate features. “So, you heard?”

You blush under the heat of his undivided attention, gaze averted as you fumble with the hem of the hockey jersey on you. “Not necessarily.”

“Then what did you hear, baby?” he queries immediately, shifting so that his body now faces yours, an arm resting against the coat hanger as he sizes you up, unabashed and assertive.

Your stomach flips, the race of your heart undeniable. “You’ve got a mouth on you, so it’s easy to read lips.”

You’re chirping, working under his skin in a way that maintains some form of respect but has all the intentions of riling him up, which manifests into the beast you wish to see. A cocked eyebrow and a ticked jaw, flashes of disbelief flickering on his face. Once more, your emotions bear the weight of an anchor as excitement conjures up the swirl in your stomach, your masquerade crumbling at the seams as your nostrils flare, biting back a shit-eating grin.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he questions with a hint of humour, because he knows you like the back of his hand. You give him no response, preoccupied with suppressing the misplaced giggle that threatens to leave your lips. “I can’t believe this.”

The seams fully come undone, a snicker or two bypassing your lips as you retreat from the situation, ending up with your back against the door leading to the basement with Jack hot on your heels. Mirth bathes you in delight and you let it, a plethora of chuckles falling into your hand as you avert your gaze whilst Jack forgets any concept of personal space. Perhaps you’re deserving of whatever damnation comes your way, a punishment you’ve fully brought upon yourself, but when your senses fill with the waft of Jack’s earthy musk cologne and the remnants of his apple shampoo, accompanied by the warmth of his body that leans towards yours, you can’t bring yourself to feel a shred of regret.

His arm, enveloped by his raven black dress shirt, raises as he cages you in, vulnerable and at his mercy. “What else did I say, since you can read lips and all?”

This is a circus of words, meaning riddled in optical illusions that would have someone think none the wiser. Except this is yours and Jack’s circus, an act tailored for two that entertains your minds that run wild. A wildness you feed off as you meet him with the same decisiveness.

“This number,” you start, pointing towards the digits printed on your sleeve belonging to him. “86 is what people go to see - sorry, pay to see.”

You’re not really sorry, the smirk on your face says otherwise. “I think I said a lot more than that, sweetheart.”

“Besides all the huffing and puffing,” his tongue pokes at his cheek, a playful smirk betraying his flaring emotions. “You asked if he was there to play or to hurt people - fair point to make.”

“And all the others weren’t?” Jack’s moved closer, his thigh situating itself between the gap of your legs.

You bite your tongue at the friction. “You know the answer to that.”

“Maybe,” his caging arm leaves the door, the web of his hand sat against your chin as he holds your face, maintaining the same fiery gaze that unravels you altogether. “But, it’d be better coming from you.”

“Jack,” he’s flexed his thigh, your hand reaching for the button on his dress shirt as you wane in defeat. “Please.”

“I don’t follow.”

Your bawled fist meets his stacked chest. “Don’t play dumb.”

Jack chuckles, holding all power in the palm of his hand. “I’m just confused as to why my pants are wet.”

To prove his point, he draws his thigh away because he’s a selfish bastard and shows you the damp spot you’ve left after his thigh made its way between your legs. The shame that washes over you is unbearable.

Jack’s cold hands find themselves underneath the material of his jersey, one hand dancing along the outline of your underwear with a finger hanging over the top of the seam. “Oh, what to do with you.”

He’s such a tease, his ego large and in charge as you’ve long forgotten any sense of game at hand as your eyes pool with only an anguish he can extinguish. “Fuck me, please.”

“Why?” his tone light and airy, his finger hooked around the seam of your underwear as the material leaves your skin

You shiver at the breeze, eyes closed as your weak fist manages to grapple onto some material of his shirt. “Because, I need you and I think that goes both ways.”

The band of your underwear snaps against your stomach as Jack retrieves his hand, head cocked to the side as he considers the weight of your words with a locked jaw. Your teeth are sinking into the plumpness of your bottom lip, nothing but pleading in your eyes as you gaze up at him with all you can muster.

His hand lays against your cheek, thumb automatically caressing the skin - a touch that you not only lean into, but shiver towards. “Get upstairs.”

This is a fairly new playing field for you two - a game of cat and mouse that brings out an unfamiliar side to you, so foreign in nature that you second guess your desires and where your lust leads you. Jack doesn’t allow for any hesitation though, hand in hand with you as he comes into himself too. His thumb brushes against the corner of your lips that lift, a soft smile surfacing amongst his features before you’re headed upstairs in a flash, scurrying towards your bedroom with a trail of your clothes left in your wake.

Jack doesn’t take long to meet you upstairs, his pinstripe blazer removed as he unfastens his tie around his neck. He spares you a lingering glance as you lay sheepishly on the bed perched on your elbows, legs ajar as your folds glisten in the soft bedroom light. Jack quickly rids himself of his clothing, slipping his boxers off to reveal his hard on. A comfortable length with all the girth to fulfil you, tip flushed pink as it brims with precum. It takes everything in you not to sink to your knees and fill your mouth with his cock.

As he approaches the bed, he motions for you to turn around and you do so with no questions asked, back arched as you wait in anticipation as you feel the bed dip with his presence. Jack comes up behind you, body so incredibly close yet somehow so far away as his hands make contact with your burning skin, giving the flesh on your back a brief massage. A surprised hum vibrates in your chest as Jack drags a single finger along the dip of your spine, leaving goosebumps in his wake before he adjusts himself behind you, to which you push your ass back against his hard on.

“Stop teasing.” you sound more desperate than intended, cheek squished into your cool silk pillow.

“Can’t admire my girl before I fuck her?” The nonchalance of his tone draws a mewl out of you, your hips jutting as they search for any more contact. “Besides,”

Hands resting against the mould of your hips, one shifts as you feel his cold index finger draw in between your folds, fingertips swirling around your clit. You moan brokenly, body curling into itself. “You’re just here to take it, aren’t you, princess?”

You’re nodding before your brain can even compute his words, humming along to accentuate your point as his fingertips continue to swirl along the shape of your clit. It’s too much and not enough - a tug of war of sorts that makes your hips rock into Jack, an action that at one point, has his tip catching against your wet entrance. A hiss from behind you sounds as you grapple onto the pillow beside you.

Jack’s hand leaves you high and dry, but alias, his patiences dissipates into the night sky as he glides into you in one smooth motion, robbing you of your breath and sanity as your mouth gapes open and eyes roll. Sinking into the mattress, your spread legs accommodate for the snap of Jack’s hips as he starts to fuck you from behind, your back curving as you gladly take everything he’s offering. Face mangled into your hoard of pillows, your fingers cling to the duvet for some kind of security, at the mercy of Jack who pleases you in all the way he knows how.

“How hard do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, maybe genuinely because his strength seems somehow restricted, but you’re keening high in your throat at how filthy his words fall from his rosy lips so easily.

“Harder,” you plead, losing yourself in the pleasure as your one hand shuffles to rub against your neglected clit. “Harder, please.”

And, he obliges, bullying his cock into you as you gasp at the impact. A smack lands against your ass, the supple surface sizzling as your hips retract, Jack’s ironclad grip holding you from escaping any further as his fingers make indents into your skin like notches in a bedpost.

“Hang on,” his pace slows, breath laboured as you feel him pull out of you reluctantly. “Turn around. I need to see you.”

You squirm against the sheets, easily complying with Jack’s wishes that suit you, your body turning as your sweaty-layered back sticks to the duvet. In the dimmed light of your bedroom, you catch a glimpse of Jack, whose wet curls fall in all the right places and how every outline of his well-built body drives you wild. You catch the shallow rises of his chest and the flush against his cheeks and as he tucks stray strands of hairs behind his ears, his hands find purchase at your thighs and draw you closer. It’s when he looks into your eyes, shameless in the pleasure written all over his face as he pushes into you again that you think you could never get tired of this view.

Your walls mould to the shape of his cock, sucking him in entirely as you both moan at the feeling. To add fuel to the fire, Jack decides to unfold your legs and hoist them over his shoulders, the new angle burying him even deeper and bringing you closer to the edge. A huff of amusement sounds from Jack as he peers down at your parted lips, wasting no time in fucking you into the mattress as the bed creaks underneath the pressure. His earlier annoyance rears its head in his movements, unsettled irritation laced in the impact of his thrusts, your cunt leaking all around him as he pounds into you relentlessly. So close in proximity, Jack takes the opportunity to caress your cheek, a sweet gesture as your breath hitches, all before his hand slowly drifts down towards your neck. An affirmative nod from you is he needs to tighten his grip, your brewing orgasm intensifying tenfold as he maintains all the eye contact to make you shudder.

He’s balls deep in you, each hard thrust punctuated by the smack of the wooden headboard against the bedroom wall. You feel him all around you like some wicked embrace: in your stomach, your lungs and around your throat, the snug clasp his calloused hand holds against your pressure points lolling your mouth open, gasping at the sheer intensity stewing within you.

Jack takes the opportunity, wet curls stuck to his forehead, leaning closer as he spits directly into your mouth, as he does onto the ice throughout his games. Something twists violently in you, back arching off the bed as your lips fall close to moan from the deepest parts within you, the taste of Jack on your tongue.

“Taking me like such a good girl,” he praises, your reflection plentiful in his eyes. “If I’d known you liked this, would have done it a long time ago.”

Everything begins to blur at the edges like an old photograph, bliss engulfing you in its heavenly fire as your skin shimmers with sweat and your nails scrape at Jack’s shoulder - a futile attempt to regain control that had been long lost, your bodies movement forgotten as you squirm and shiver all over.

Oxygen courses back into your deprived lungs as Jack releases his grip, burning hand against your cheek as his thumb brushes your cheekbone, catching your fluttering eyelashes. “I got you, baby. Got you, princess.”

“Never been fucked,” a whimper escapes when Jack notches that spongy spot that buries your nails into his skin, “like this. Feels-fuck, good.”

He laughs lightly, pace stuttering yet hitting all the right places. “Love giving my pretty girl what she wants,”

You clench around him, embedding your nails into the flesh of his back as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, gaze scattered. “And my pretty girl wants to come, don’t you?”

He poses the rhetorical question with a mean pinch at your clit before pushing a heavy hand down on your lower stomach, the pressure accelerating you towards your fast-approaching orgasm. The sounds pour out of you like a waterfall, eyebrows furrowed as you plead with begging eyes. “Kiss me?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” he breathes, almost whiny as his hand circles around your nape, your figure floating as your lips collide in a messy embrace, rhythm unmatched as your yearning seeps through your teeth.

Jack captures all your moans in his mouth, the new angle of his thrusts adding to the sloppiness of your wet kiss. The smack of his stuttering hips knocks against your clit in a way that has you seeing beyond, swallowed whole by his galaxy of stars as he gives you one last jerky thrust, teeth nipping at your bottom lip to undo you. Frayed at the seams, you come undone, unravelling in a mess that perfectly matches Jack as he quickly comes after you, coating your walls as your cunt spasms all around him as he rides out his high.

Once Jack’s shallow thrusts grind to a halt, he slowly pulls out a heavy sigh, locking eyes with you as he runs a finger down your sensitive cunt just to get a shiver out of you. Your eyebrows knit, a flare of annoyance mixed in with fatigue written across your face that draws a humoured snicker from your boyfriend. He collapses down next to you, a kiss pressed against your cheek before you both aimlessly stare up at the ceiling.

Amusement tugs at the corners of your lips. “You should get angry more often.”

“I was just about to say the same thing.” agrees Jack, laughter making its home between you two as nothing but sweetness lingers in the air.

“Come on,” he urges, his hand nudging yours, body prying itself off your bed as he goes to stand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

#jh86 #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes fic #jack hughes smut #jack hughes imagine #nhl smut #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #residenthughes

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