#paulie smut

[honeyshiddendesire]

So You Thought I Was Nice?

Pairing: Paulie x Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+ duhhh lol Minors Begone!!! Rope Play, bondage, dom! Paulie, vaginal penetration, friends to lovers, rough sex, mating press, dirty talk/ degradation (silly girl, messy girl, sloppy thing, nasty girl) pet names (darling, doll, sweetheart), messy pussy eating, pussy smacking, creampie

*My first Paulie smut cause he is underrated and needs extra love!! If you don't like Rough Paulie keep scrolling please!!**

Summary: You unknowingly get Paulie all worked up and he has to show you he’s not as nice as you think he is.

“Ugh I just wish someone would be rough with me. Is that too much to ask?” You sigh as you sit on your friend's couch and instantly you hear Paulie let out a sigh. “Listen darling I’m all for hearing you vent …but this is too much for me.” He can’t help but groan as he runs a hand over his face. You pout as you look at him, his hands lighting up his cigar to get his nerves to calm down but you only press on. “I’m serious Paulie and come on you’re my best friend. Who else am I gonna say this too?”

“Hopefully anyone else but me.” Paulie’s continuous groans make you roll your eyes as you toss a pillow at him. “Oh hush Paulie you’re a big boy you can hear this kind of stuff unless you’re too nice for sexual things.” Paulie glares your way before shaking his head, “Better watch it doll you’re gonna get on my last nerve if you keep this up.”

If you keep rolling your eyes they were gonna fall out but his words just had you in full sass mode, “Yeah right it’s like I said you’re too nice. Besides, what cha gonna do anyway, hmm? You’re just like the other soft guys I have sex with, all bark and absolutely no bite at all.”

“Alright that’s it. Get your ass up.” His command was said with a red face that makes you break out into a laugh which only makes him see red. Instantly your hands are being pulled together by a long rope. “What the - hey!”

“I said…Get up. Now.” He grunts with a puff of smoke, yanking at the rope making you sit up on the couch. “Or did ya think I was too nice?” You couldn’t even think of a comeback, this spark in Paulie making your breathing pickup. You wondered what his next move was but you also wondered what yours should be as well. Should you play nice or keep being a brat just to see how far he’d go. Both options sounded good but you took too long for his liking. Putting out his cigar in the ashtray on his coffee table he stepped toward you with a very uncharacteristic smirk that you weren’t used to.

“What’s the matter, doll? You scared?”

“N-no.” You can’t help but stutter out but it comes off all quiet and you mentally beat yourself up for it. You’re usually such a brat but something in you just wants to comply. “Want me to let you in on a little secret?” He asks, leaning down toward your face, tugging on the ropes so you’d get closer, his hand holding your chin to look at him. Your eyes focused on him as he grins at your expectant expression, “I love breaking bratty girls like you.”

You gasp as he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder carrying you into his bedroom where he tosses you on the bed like a sack of potatoes. “Safe words shipwright.” He tells you as he ties the rope to his metal bed frame. Your breath hitches as you see him move to stand at the foot of the bed, his hands removing his jacket dropping on the floor. You knew he was fit from his job but seeing him remove his shirt in front of you to reveal cut abs was a sight to behold. “Careful doll, you keep looking at me like that and I don’t know how I’ll hold up.” His tone was stern but he still wore his signature blush.

Removing his belt he winds it in his hands snapping it to make a loud sound that has you yelp, “Now you better behave or I’ll have to use this on you. Got it doll?” Without realizing you found yourself nodding along and he just smirked. “Good.”

He made quick work of your clothes leaving your bottom bare and ripe for his greedy eyes to view. Paulie scowls as he looks at your soaked cunt, “Look at how fucking messy you are, such a sloppy brat getting all wet just from a couple words. Disgusting.” Though his words are harsh you notice how his blush only deepens and he licks his lips, eyes never leaving your pussy. You squirm from his gaze and he only clicks his teeth pushing your legs open, “Behave.”

“No.” You mumble and he only grins, “No? Yeah I’ll get you to behave real quick.” Paulie says as he pushes your legs back and dives straight down to your leaky core. A scream ripping from you as he swats at your pussy, before licking you like a starving man. Sucking at your clit roughly making you squeal out his name in shock, “Oh fuck Paulie!”

“Ah ah ah~ a lady shouldn’t curse.” He grins even though you have the mouth of a sailor he still had rules that only he could break. Biting your lip so you can keep your curses all muffled as he shoves his tongue inside your pussy, circling around to get a taste of your juices. Nipping at your clit gently until you were squealing and squirming even more. “Paulie what the hell!” You can't help but yelp again as he slaps your clit, “I said behave.”

“Okay okay!” You whine out and he just chuckles before diving back in, shaking his head and sucking at your clit, his strong hands pushing your legs back to keep you still. You were a wreck, you didn’t think him of all people would be so sloppy then have the nerve to back up as if admiring his work and spill out utter filth. “Damn you’re such a messy girl, leaking all over the fucking place. Nasty pussy making my bed all wet.” You frown breathing deeply but there’s no weight to his words as he simply dives back in like you’re the best meal ever. “Tastes so fucking good mmm.” Paulie’s moans make your eyes roll back as they send vibrations throughout your body. You couldn’t get enough of him and neither could he.

“Paulie~!” His name leaving your throat in a whiny moan that makes him slap your thigh gently. Your sounds making his brain fuzzy and eat you with your passion, running his tongue through your folds, sucking at your lips and clit before kissing you all over. Stars danced across your eyes as you felt yourself cum in his mouth, a moan leaving you as you felt him squeeze at your thighs with a bruising grip that left you dizzy. Your voice was gonna be wrecked when he was done with you but you had a feeling that wouldn’t be the only thing he wrecked. After he left you shaking he moved to kiss up your thighs sloppily until he sat up and undid his pants, licking his lips as you watched with your chest heaving. He grinned as he looked at your flustered expression, legs shaking and chest rising and falling rapidly, “Easy there baby don’t want you passin out on me.”

Paulie felt a spark of pride seeing you like this laid out for him and it grew when he saw your eyes go wide just as he let out his thick cock from their confines. The tip leaking and red waiting impatiently to finally dip inside your wet caverns that he wanted to destroy. “Gonna make you apologize for all that shit talking you were doing earlier. I’m not gonna go easy on you sweetheart so you better be ready.”

Nodding your head rapidly you couldn’t help but give a breathy answer, “Please Paulie fuck- please show me.” SMACK! “Fu~ sorry!” You almost curse again but stop yourself after feeling the sting on your thigh again.

“Making me repeat myself again doll? Guess you really did want someone rough huh?” He taunts to you before kissing up your body, his cock grinding against your sensitive folds, “I’m gonna have to fuck some manners into you and this pussy for making such a mess. That sound good to you sweetheart?” He asked and you found yourself nodding quickly, your voice lost as you felt every vein pressing into your throbbing clit.

“Good girl.” Paulie whispers against your lips making you lean up trying to kiss him and he only smirks, “Didn’t think you were so needy.” You whine as you feel him grind into you hard, tongue licking at your bottom lip before dominating its way into your mouth. You release a moan at the taste of yourself, his tongue swirling around yours and you sigh into the kiss legs wrapping around his waist to cage him close to you. You feel him pull his hips back making your heart race in anticipation, a moan being muffled by his tongue stuffing your mouth as he thrusts his cock deep in your wet pussy.

“Fuck~” Paulie groans as he leans back untangling your legs from his waist just to push them back into the mattress. You throw your head back as you feel him push deeper into you, “Yes!” This is what you needed all along. You just never realized that Paulie of all people was the one that could do it for you. He left you speechless as he picked up a brutal pace, pulling all the way out just to slam his full length back into you, never giving you or your pussy a chance to adjust. Toes curling and eyes rolling at the feeling of finally being used how you so desperately craved, “Paulie!” His name leaves your lips like a broken song that he wanted to play on repeat all night and he was gonna make sure he heard it.

“Like that ya brat?” His voice groans out, jaw tense and face a deep shade of red, blonde hair falling in front of his face as his goggles were long forgotten on the floor. You couldn’t find the words and just nodded in response, moans broken getting louder by the second and he could only scowl. “Can’t speak anymore huh?” You just whine as you feel him grip your thighs harder, his eyes looking down to where you both were connected.

“Slutty little pussy.” He mumbles as he watches his cock getting soaked by your creaming cunt sucking him in deeper. His hands on your thighs definitely gonna leave a bruise that you couldn't wait to see in the morning. The sound of slapping skin filled the room, the headboard rocking loudly along with your screams of pleasure were like music. It made his ears rings and he needed you to cum but he wanted you to beg him for it. Slowly his hips down has you whining and looking at him with pleading eyes that made him smirk.

“Awe what's the matter, brat? Ready to admit that I ain't so nice?” He taunts but it's breathy and makes your pussy clench. He looked so hot like this, hair a mess, face flushed and abs rippling as he had you folded. “Yes! Yes Paulie you're so fucking rude!”

Scowling he reached up and pulled your hair till your back arched with a moan, “Naughty little brat you just don't listen do you? Say you're sorry if you want to cum.” He groans, leaning down to bite at your neck, making you gasp. “I'm sorry Paulie please! Pleasepleaseplease lemme cum. I'll be good! Ugh I'll be so good I promise!” You whine and he leans down to nip your bottom lip.

“Yeah you'll be good for me finally? No more fucking those softies huh?” Paulie's words catch you by surprise but honestly you couldn't agree more. With the way he was fucking you there was no way you'd go back to anyone else when he was giving it to you so good.

“Yes Paulie I promise! Ah~! I'm all yours please let me cum!” You found yourself pleasing and he rewards you with a deep kiss and his hands going back to open your legs more. Hips picking back up their brutal pace on your cunt that was gonna be his by the end of this.

“Whose pussy does it belong to from now on then?” Paulie asks and all this filthy unexpected talk just took you for a world wind. It was too much and you couldn't take it at this rate. “Yours Paulie! It's all yours!” You scream out to him and he licks at your lips. Looking in your eyes as he says, “So cum for me baby.”

“Oh~Yes!” You scream in ecstasy, eyes rolling back and body arching toward him as you spray your pretty juices all over his cock. A deep groan leaving him as he cums right along with you, hips stuttering for a moment as he fucks ropes of cum deep in your pussy.

You didn't realize when he undid the ropes in your afterglow until he spun you around to lay on his chest. Both of you falling back into the mattress with a long sigh of satisfaction. His face red as a tomato hoping nothing more would be said or he'd die of embarrassment.

You had a huge smile plastered on your face as you looked up at him, his arms tightening around you hoping to squeeze the words he knew were coming out. “Wow Paulie I didn't think you had it in you.” You grin and he just groans loudly in response. “Oh hush it will ya. Don't make me gag you.”

Your eyes beamed at his statement and he only blushes more realizing he made a mistake in his words. “Really!? Can we try that next time!”

“Dammit you shameful woman! Do you always think with that pussy of yours?”

Staring at him with a big smile that he can't seem to look away from you nod your head, “Yup!”

Paulie just knew he had his hands full with a lady like you by his side.

*banner*

[jsitmfgoesnsfw]

Kinktober Day 16 - The Rigger and the Rope Bunny

Do you want to read more of my Kinktober fanfics? You can find them all on my Kinktober Masterlist!

Fandom: One Piece

Characters: Paulie x Reader

Word Count: 0.6k (696 words)

Content: Bondage (shibari), fingering (you receiving), Paulie’s kind of mean in this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shibari with Paulie is a staple of your bedroom activities. Today, he decides to try something different.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You shifted and felt the soft rope bite into your skin. Behind you, Paulie pulled on the loose end of the rope gently.

“Stop moving.”

You whined and pressed your thighs together. “Please Paulie. I need you.”

He pulled on the rope again. “Be patient. Just a bit longer.” You felt the ropes around you shifting as he tied more knots in the rope. You heard shuffling behind you for a moment before one of Paulie’s hands pressed against your back, between your shoulder blades, pushing you forward.

As you fell forward, Paulie’s other hand grabbed your shoulder and slowed your descent, lowering you onto the bed, face pressed into the sheets, back arched, knees bent to present yourself to your boyfriend. You felt yourself burn at the thought of how much you were on display.

Paulie’s hands came to rest on your hips. “You look so good like this. Tied up in my rope.”

“Please. I need your hands.”

He hummed, seemingly deep in thought. “Are you sure?”

You wiggled your hips and felt the rope between your legs rub inches from where you needed the friction. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried again. Paulie’s hands squeezed your hips once in warning and his finger slid down, circling once before slipping inside you.

You let out a shuddering moan at the intrusion and Paulie’s other hand moved between your legs to tease you. As he did so, he worked another finger in beside the other, opening you up. You felt yourself edging closer to your release but just as you were almost there, your legs shivering and your core tightening, Paulie pulled away.

You groaned but before you could beg him to keep going, you felt him move behind you and the rope around your waist and arms tightened, pulling you upwards. You looked up and saw a stretch of rope extending from your back, up and over one of the exposed rafters in the ceiling.

You were lifted up until you were swaying above the bed. Only then did Paulie return his hands to your hips.

“Feel okay? Nothing hurting?”

You shook your head. “Nothing’s hurting. You’ve done a good job. Now please, touch me!”

Paulie snickered. “Alright, I suppose you’ve waited long enough.”

You felt him press his tip against you and push in slowly, pulling your hips towards his. As his hips came flush with yours, he paused so you could both recollect yourselves. Once you were ready, you wiggled your hips. In response, Paulie drew his hips back and thrust forward. You swung forward and at the height of your swing, Paulie pulled you back against him. You slammed into his hips with a loud moan, his length reaching deep inside you.

Paulie let out a groan of his own. “Oh, that feels amazing. You feel so good.” He continued pistoning his hips into yours, pulling you back when you swung too far away from him.

The arousal in your stomach coiled tighter with each thrust. “Oh! I’m so close, Paulie please.”

“I’m close too.” Paulie spoke through gritted teeth and his grip on your hips was tight enough that it was sure to leave bruises.

It only took another few thrusts and you were tightening around him, shivering as you came undone. Paulie hissed at how you were squeezing him and stilled his own hips, pulling out of you and spilling across your back.

As soon as he caught his breath, he lowered you back down to the bed and untied the knots, letting the rope fall loose around you. Once you were untied, Paulie pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you.

He pressed a kiss against your temple. “You were wonderful. Did you feel good?”

You nodded. “You made me feel amazing. Thank you.” You nuzzled your head against his chest and felt his face and neck heat up as he stuttered .

You smiled. How he was able to flip between such a dominant person in bed and a blushing mess after a simple compliment was beyond you.

But as he pulled you tighter to him, you couldn’t deny that you loved all sides of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[tzimiscequeen-blog]

Stress Release at the New Job

Iceburg x Reader x Paulie (NSFW)

Synopsis: You are a little distracted during a meeting with your boss, Iceburg, and Paulie. The Head of Galley-La helps to get you refocused, with an audience.

Note: This was a one shot that formed from a Patreon Exclusive piece of art from the wonderful Don-Mellow. If you haven't checked out her work, you need too! She's amazing.

Additional Tags: AFABReader, She/Her Pronouns, Creampie, Desk Sex, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Cuckolding, MDNI, 18+

WC: 1700+

Available on AO3 (can't get it to link)

@don-mellow

     

You tried to focus on the instructions your boss was telling you and noting them in your notepad but you couldn’t pull your eyes away from him as he stripped down to his boxer briefs. You had forgotten that he worked as a ship builder most of his life so he hid a very well built body under his button up shirt and suit jacket.             

There was a choking cough from Paulie who sat on the couch at the side of the room.

“You know Paulie, you should cut back on the number of cigars you smoke a day. You wouldn’t be coughing otherwise,” Iceburg chided his friend as he rummaged through his closet in his office for spare clothes.

“Ah, shut up Iceburg. I wasn’t coughing cause of the cigars; I wasn’t expecting you to strip in your office. It’s indecent in front of y/n,” the shipwright replied as he settled the cigar back in his mouth and he shifted in his seat.

“It’s alright Paulie…I, uh, don’t mind. I’d rather him change than sit in wet, coffee stained clothes,” you replied as you tried to will your blushing cheeks to lighten up before your boss turned back around.

“See, y/n is fine with it,” Iceburg said as he turned around with clothes slung over his arm. It was your turn to cough as you noticed how big he was, even flaccid, in those form fitting underwear. You shifted in your own seat now and quickly looked to the paper in your hand, trying not to draw attention to the flush in your cheeks, that was now moving down your neck.

Iceburg didn’t notice immediately and began to continue his speech before the coffee spilled on him. Your hand attempted to write notes about what he was saying but your brain and cunt were elsewhere.

“Y/n, did you get that last part?” Iceburg asked. Him calling your name pulled you out of your lusty haze.

“Um…I’m sorry sir, I, uh, didn’t,” you replied bashfully with a little squeak.

“Was I talking too fast for you to keep up?” he asked as he partially sat on the edge of his desk, right next to your chair. Although he had pants on now, he was positioned where you looked right at his crotch when you lifted your eyes from your notepad. There was no way he didn’t notice you linger on that part of him before you replied.

“N…no. I was a little distracted,” you answered as you shifted in your seat again.

“Ah, I see now. Are you uncomfortable by my undressing?”

“No, not in a bad way at least. I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes off you to be honest…sir.”

“See Iceburg! I told you it’s indecent,” Paulie hollered from his seat.

Your boss ignored his friend and pulled your gaze up to him. “Let’s get you refocused. Do you mind if Paulie stays? He likes to watch.”

“I don’t mind,” you replied boldly as you bit your lip.

“That’s great to hear,” Iceburg replied with a smirk as he placed your notepad and pen on his desk with one hand then took one of your hands and placed it on his cock. You felt it twitch with your touch and your eyes widened at his girth.

“Fuckin hell,” Paulie mumbled from the couch as you heard a zipper and moving cloth.

You stood and settled between your bosses legs as he unbuttoned his pants then unfastened yours and slid them along with your panties down to your ankles. You sucked your breath in at the sudden rush of cool air on your increasingly warming cunt.

He gave a devilish smile as his fingers slid between your folds, “You’re so wet already. You must’ve really enjoyed what you saw.”

“Y…yes,” you mewled as his strong, calloused fingers reached inside of you.

The next few moments went by in a flash and you were suddenly fully nude, laying on Iceburg’s desk. Papers strewn all over and crumpled beneath you.

Your boss’s head was between your legs, tongue curling inside you as his thumb pressed your throbbing clit. His strong arms kept your lower half from squirming too much, just enough to thrust your hips. You had a hand gripping his hair and the other held onto the edge of the desk behind you.

You glanced at Paulie who had his equally impressive cock out and was stroking it as he mumbled curses to himself and with flushed cheeks watched Iceburg eat you out.

He embarrassingly turned his eyes away as they made contact with your own and you chuckled between moans, “Don’t…hgnmmm…look away…Paulie,” you moaned as you felt the coil tighten within you.

“You know you tightened when you looked at him,” Iceburg commented as he pulled his tongue out and replaced it with two thick fingers.

“I guess…fuck…I like to…ugmmmm…be watched,” you groaned as you thrust your hips in time with Iceburg’s fingers.

“Let’s hear how much you like it,” your boss hummed as he spread his fingers to stretch you. He smiled as he felt your walls clench.

“That’s it y/n. Go ahead and cum,” he cooed to you.

Not that you were waiting for permission but his words caused the coil to snap and your back arched with papers stuck to your sweat soaked skin. His fingers continued to pump in you through your orgasm and you finally heard a small moan come from Iceburg. 

Other than his rock hard cock, you wouldn’t have known he was enjoying this whole event. When he pulled his fingers from you as your moans subsided, he shifted to stand behind his desk, kicking his chair out of the way and spun you around. He stared right at Paulie as he licked your release from his fingers and stroked himself.

“Now I need to refocus,” Iceburg groaned as his gaze fell back to you and his eyes were blown with lust.

“I’ll be glad to help you with that…sir,” you smiled back at him and moved to line him up with your throbbing core.

“Always so helpful. I knew you’d be just the best secretary,” he said just before he began to insert himself.

The stretch was divine and you leaned back and saw Paulie try to put an unlit cigar in his mouth but now it was his turn to lose focus so he threw it to the floor and continued to fist himself.

You body molded to Iceburg’s cock as he slowly inserted himself to his base and stood still for a moment to allow your body to adjust. You had never felt so full and you knew if he released inside you it would have nowhere to go and spill out of you. The thought sent pleasure through your body and you began to rotate your hips, letting him know you were ready.

He gave a few shallow thrusts then pulled each of your legs up and held them as his thrusts became deeper and harder. You gripped the edge of his desk with both hands now, to keep from being pushed off the desk. For a mellow man, Iceburg could certainly be commanding if he so wanted, and you wanted him to turn you into a mewling pile.

“You’re being so good…ngnnnnnn. We may need to…ahhhhh…start every meeting like this,” Iceburg commented between rough thrusts and restrained moans.

“Wh…whatever you…fuck…you want…sir!”

He moved your legs to his shoulders and leaned over you. The new angle let him hit new spots within you and that coil quickly formed again.

“I’m…glad you agree. Now, let me hear you again. His words were a polite command that you had no intention of disobeying. You gave a quick upside down glance to Paulie who seemed to be reaching his climax. Hand frantically stroking himself as his face contorted into that pleading look just before any of your previous partners were about to cum but needed one last little nudge.

Iceburg bent just a little lower, pressing your legs back farther and his chest closer to yours. His cock relentlessly thrusting in and out of you, the wet sounds of each thrust, inching your closer to your release.

“Ice…I’m…cuming,” you mumbled out as the coil broke. Your body arched off the desk, his name repeated over and over on your lips between gibberish and curses.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me,” Paulie growled from across the room as you  vaguely heard his moan of released.

Just when you thought your orgasm was over, Iceburg gripped your whole body and held you as close to him as he possibly could and you felt him still and he groaned as you felt the thick ribbons of cum inside you. The feel of which quickly had you cumming again.

Sure enough, there was no room left inside you and you felt it slowly drip out of you. He held you like that for a few moments while you both caught your breath. When he finally let you go, he pulled your rear off the desk and slowly pulled out of you. You could hear the drips of cum hitting the tiled floor as his release spilled out of you.

“Are you injured?” he asked politely as if yo stubbed your toe and didn’t just rail you on his desk.

“A little dehydrated, but nothing a little stretching can’t handle,” you smiled at your boss.

“Good, Paulie will get you some water,” Iceburg smirked.

“What?! I’m not your servant Iceburg!” Paulie grumbled as he stood and fastened his pants.

“Do it for y/n?” He smirked.

“Alright, just cause she looks tired,” he said as he blushed and headed out of the office.

Iceburg helped you remove all the papers stuck to you and tossed the ones that were not salvageable with a shrug that he was unbothered by their loss.

You were mostly cleaned up and you’d finish as soon as you headed to the bathroom.

Paulie returned and you saved your final comment until he returned.

“You know boss, I should probably start wearing skirts to work instead,” you smirked.

“I agree. I won’t have to worry about ripping your pants next time,” he matched you smirk.

“You two are gonna fuckin kill me,” Paulie complained as he lit his cigar.

“Next time you can join Paulie,” you winked at him as his face turned bright red and he sulked the rest of the meeting on the couch.                         

[lostheaventales]

Celebratory Causes

Description: In a fit of excitement of the successful bank robbery, Paulie does something completely out of character, but Tommy is not mad about it.

Relationship: Paulie Lombardo x Tommy Angelo

Prompt: Accidental Kiss (Day 16), “Touch yourself for me” (Day 17)

(AU where Tommy and Sarah never got together)

⚠️CONTENT WARNING⚠️: SMUT, MASTURBATION, BLOW JOB

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1938

As Tommy pulls into the garage, a wave of relief washes over him when he realized that he made it out alive. He extinguished the engine of the wrecked car and closed his eyes, saying a mini prayer inside of his head.

“We did it!” Paulie exclaimed through the passenger side window. “We did it! I can’t believe we fuckin’ did it! We’re loaded! We’re loaded!”

Tommy got out of the car. Paulie retrieved a flask from his pocket and took a swig. He was happy to see Paulie’s spirits had been lifted. That talk in the train had him worried. Tommy had never seen Paulie so down like that before. He was naturally so upbeat and prideful, even when he got shot some years ago.

“For old time’s sake?” Paulie handed him the flask.

Tommy hesitated a bit before taking it. “Sure.”

He took a small shop. Paulie still celebrating in the background. When he removed the flask from his lips, Paulie suddenly slammed his lips against his. Tommy’s cheeks turned red and hot as the kiss went on. It lasted a mere few seconds yet it felt like it went on forever. Paulie pulled away, instantly regretting his decision.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized.

Tommy wrapped his arms around him again. “After all these years of knowing each other, I thought you’d never do that.

He brought him intro another kiss. This one being more passionate. Tommy’s hands explored his body the deeper they got into the kiss.

“I was gonna say ‘I’ll see you tomorrow’ but how about we celebrate this together? We can figure out the cut later.” Tommy suggested, giving Paulie another kiss on the lips.

“Sounds like a plan.” Paulie agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~As soon as Tommy closed the door of Paulie’s apartment, Paulie attacked him with kisses. Tommy pulled off the older man’s blazer. The kiss deepened, turning into something hotter. Paulie tugged at his belt. Feeling the prominent bulge in his crotch area, Tommy assisted him with unbuckling his belt. Paulie released a breath of relief and continued kissing him.

Paulie broke away from the kiss. “Touch yourself for me,” he whispered into his ear.

Tommy didn’t argue against him. He sat on his bed and reached into his underwear. Paulie stood across from him. He tugged at his cock, pressure immediately building. Loud, breathless moans escaped his mouth. Paulie pulled out his own cock. As he was pleasured himself, he slipped Paulie’s cock in his mouth. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, placing a hand on the top of his head. They finished together.

They removed their clothing and lied on the bed. Tommy had to lie on top of Paulie, which he wasn’t bothered by.

[mdemn]

in case any of you read that sarah/paulie fic i posted in feb. 2023….. i have finally posted part two which can be read right HERE on my ao3 🤭

[cloudyluun]

Under the Dining Table

Summary: A casual dinner with friends takes an unexpected turn when Harry’s hand finds its way under your dress. What starts as a teasing touch quickly escalates into a dangerous game, his fingers stroking you in slow, torturous movements while you struggle to keep your composure. The thrill of getting caught only fuels the fire between you, and when dinner finally ends, Harry wastes no time dragging you into a private space to finish what he started.

A/N: So, uh… I was supposed to be writing something wholesome, but my brain took a sharp left turn into filthville, and here we are. 🫣 Blame Harry, not me. (Actually, blame me—I had way too much fun writing this.) not proofread so sorry!!

Also, OMG?? I hit 500 followers?!? WHAT?!? Thank you all so much for being here, for reading my unhinged little stories, and for enabling my questionable life choices. As a token of my appreciation, here’s an extra post—filled with chaos, tension, and Harry being an absolute menace. Enjoy, you heathens. 😈🔥

P.S. If you get caught reading this in public, that’s on you. I take no responsibility. 👀

Word Count: 6k

Warnings:

Explicit Smut!

Public teasing (Harry has no shame, and neither do you)

Filthy behavior at the dinner table (do NOT try this at a family gathering)

The risk of getting caught (adds to the thrill, obviously)

Harry being an absolute menace (as usual)

Y/N struggling to keep a straight face (good luck with that)

Zero self-control (from both of you, let’s be honest)

Possible secondhand embarrassment (for the poor, unsuspecting dinner guests)

You will never look at dinner the same way again (hope it was worth it)

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The dinner starts off casually—wine is poured, conversations flow, and laughter fills the air. The restaurant hums with soft chatter, the low flicker of candlelight reflecting in the deep red of your wine glass. Plates clink, silverware scrapes, and the warm scent of roasted garlic and fresh herbs lingers in the air.

It’s meant to be just another dinner with friends, nothing out of the ordinary. A night to unwind, to catch up after weeks of conflicting schedules. Harry’s bandmates are here—Mitch, Sarah, Ny, Pauli, Adam, and Elin. The whole crew, filling out the long table with easy conversation and shared memories from tour.

And yet… there’s an underlying charge.

It started small, like a current building beneath the surface. Harry had been seated beside you by chance—an open seat, a last-minute rearrangement. But now, everything about his presence feels intentional.

The way he sat just close enough for his knee to brush yours under the table.

The way his fingers toyed absentmindedly with the rim of his glass, his rings catching the low light.

The way his cologne—deep, woodsy, and devastatingly familiar—lingered between you every time he shifted in his seat.

You try to ignore it, try to focus on the conversation. Mitch is recounting a story from tour, something about a hotel mix-up that left him and Harry in the wrong rooms, and Sarah is already laughing before he even gets to the punchline.

You laugh too, swirling your wine in your glass, willing yourself to stay grounded in the moment.

But then, there’s him.

Harry leans back in his chair, one arm slung casually over the backrest, his fingers just barely grazing your exposed shoulder. He’s listening, engaging, but you catch the flicker of his gaze drifting—not to Mitch, not to anyone else at the table.

To you.

You don’t have to look to know he’s taking in every inch of your outfit. The silk of your dress—delicate, effortless. Thin straps, a neckline that just barely toes the line of appropriate, a hem that rides a little higher when you cross your legs.

And then, finally—finally—he speaks.

His lips brush your ear, voice smooth, controlled. Dangerous.

"You knew what you were doing when you put this on, didn’t you?"

It’s not really a question.

Your breath catches—just slightly—but you school your features, keeping them neutral as you bring your glass to your lips. The wine is rich, dry, but it does little to soothe the heat crawling up your spine.

"No idea what you’re talking about," you murmur, voice even.

A low hum rumbles in his throat, amused but unconvinced. His fingers—slow, calculated—skim the edge of your knee beneath the table, barely there.

You know it’s deliberate.

He knows you know.

"Right." He exhales softly, tilting his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. "Just a coincidence, then?"

His fingers brush higher. The tiniest movement. Just enough to make your pulse stutter.

"That this dress is driving me absolutely fucking insane?"

It’s maddening.

The setting, the people, the complete normalcy of the moment contrasted with the way his words slip beneath your skin like a match to gasoline.

The conversation around you continues uninterrupted. Pauli is cracking a joke. Sarah is leaning into Mitch. Ny is scrolling through something on her phone, laughing under her breath.

No one notices the way Harry’s touch lingers.

No one hears the unspoken promise laced in his voice.

But you feel it.

And when his fingers—light as a whisper—drag another inch up your thigh, your breath hitches just enough for him to notice.

The smirk that spreads across his lips is slow, knowing. He doesn’t push further. Doesn’t need to.

You know exactly what kind of night this is going to be.

It starts small—his pinky brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. A small spark. A warning.

It could have been accidental, a mere slip of movement, but you both know better. The heat from his skin lingers even after the briefest touch, and your stomach clenches as your fingers flex against the stem of your wine glass.

You should pull away. Create distance. But you don’t.

Instead, you let the moment stretch, let it settle between you like the space between lightning and thunder. A crackling anticipation, thick and waiting to strike.

Then, his hand rests on your knee. Innocent at first. A casual gesture.

It would mean nothing if it were anyone else. A natural movement, a simple touch. But it’s Harry. And his hand—warm, heavy, deliberate—burns through the silk of your dress like an unspoken promise.

You keep your focus on the conversation around you. Mitch is talking about the festival lineup for next summer. Pauli and Adam are debating whether they should get another round of drinks. Sarah is laughing at something Elin said.

And Harry?

Harry is pretending he isn’t setting your body on fire under the table.

Then, his fingers slowly drag higher.

It’s subtle, measured, the kind of touch that feels unbearably slow because you’re already hyper-aware of it.

The first few inches are nothing—just the soft press of his fingertips against your bare skin. But then, he parts your legs just slightly. A silent question.

You inhale sharply, barely a sound, but enough for Harry to catch it. His lips twitch, amused.

Your brain is screaming at you to stop this before it goes too far. Before someone notices.

But instead, you let your legs fall further apart.

The moment you do, he exhales a quiet chuckle. Low, smug, so quiet only you can hear it. His fingertips dance along the inside of your thigh, teasing at the hem of your dress.

You can’t focus on anything else.

The conversation at the table continues as if nothing is happening. You nod along, force a small laugh at something Mitch says. But the second his fingers slip just beneath the fabric, pressing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, your grip on your wine glass tightens.

Your pulse is pounding in your ears.

You’re mid-sentence—mid-fucking-sentence—when you feel it. The softest graze of Harry’s fingers under the table.

Your body jolts in response.

It’s casual at first, almost innocent, as if he’s just adjusting his position. But then his fingers start tracing small, lazy circles over your bare skin.

You shoot him a look. A warning. A silent What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

But Harry? Harry doesn’t even glance at you.

His attention is fixed across the table, his expression easy, relaxed, engaged in conversation like he isn’t currently driving you absolutely insane.

The pads of his fingers press into your thigh, massaging slow, deliberate strokes.

You swallow hard, shifting in your seat, trying—failing—to pretend your body isn’t already reacting to his touch.

Then, he squeezes.

Firm. Just enough pressure to send a rush of heat down your spine.

And when his thumb drags up, up, up, pushing the silk of your dress just a little higher—

You realize you are completely and utterly fucked.

His fingers travel higher, skimming where you need him most, but he doesn’t give in. Instead, he taps his fingers—just barely touching over your underwear.

The teasing, the unbearable lightness of his touch, sends a slow, torturous ache through you. You let out the softest exhale, shifting slightly, but it only encourages him.

His breath is warm against your ear as he murmurs, “Keep still, sweetheart.”

Your pulse hammers. He’s playing a dangerous game, and you’re too far gone to stop him.

He keeps his touch featherlight, circling over your already damp panties, and your thighs clench involuntarily. He notices. Of course, he notices. The smug amusement radiates off him, the slight twitch of his lips betraying how much he enjoys this.

Across the table, someone calls your name, and you have to steady yourself before answering. Your voice is barely even, and Harry grins when he feels your body tense at the effort.

His fingers inch higher, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress. The shift is so small, so subtle, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. Your breath catches, but you try to remain still.

He leans in, lips just barely brushing your ear, voice low and teasing. “You’re so quiet. Something wrong, love?”

You glare at him, but it only makes him smirk. His fingers slide higher, the tips of them teasing the very edge of your underwear, and you fight the urge to squirm.

He resumes eating with his free hand, completely unbothered, while his fingers continue their slow exploration.

You try to focus on the conversation, to process whatever meaningless small talk is happening around you, but it’s impossible when he drags his fingertips along the inside of your thigh, getting dangerously close.

The heat between your legs is unbearable. The anticipation is excruciating. And worst of all—he knows it.

Harry’s fingers finally push your underwear aside, fingertips dipping between your folds, just enough to coat them in your arousal. The first contact makes your entire body jolt, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep from making a sound.

His touch is light, exploratory. He’s taking his time, as if memorizing every slick detail, as if he has all night to play with you like this. A single finger traces over your clit, slow and deliberate, and you swallow hard, your grip tightening around your fork. You focus on the weight of it in your hand, anything to distract yourself from the way he’s barely moving, barely giving you enough, but somehow, it’s already making you dizzy.

Your body responds instinctively, hips tilting toward him, chasing more friction, but he denies you that, keeping his touch featherlight. The smug bastard. His lips part slightly as he watches you struggle, his amusement barely concealed beneath the practiced ease of his expression. He’s reveling in this, in you.

"So wet for me already," he whispers, voice so low only you can hear. His breath ghosts over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your fingers twitch under the table, reaching for his wrist. Your nails dig into his skin, but you don’t push him away. You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. Instead, you squeeze your thighs around his hand, a silent, desperate plea for more. He chuckles, the sound deep and knowing, vibrating straight through you.

His smirk deepens. “Needy little thing.”

Before you can snap back at him—not that you can form words right now anyway—he finally gives you what you want. His finger dips inside, slow and unhurried, sinking into your heat with a teasing curl. The stretch is minimal, barely anything compared to what you need, but it still steals your breath. A small, sharp inhale betrays you, and Harry has to bite back a laugh.

You’re completely at his mercy, caught between maintaining composure and succumbing to the slow, torturous pleasure he’s giving you. He works you slowly, teasingly, his finger slipping in and out with an agonizing lack of urgency. Every now and then, he curls it just right, pressing against a spot that makes your toes curl inside your heels. Your thighs tremble as you struggle to keep yourself still, as if staying quiet and composed will keep you from fully unraveling.

Meanwhile, the conversation around you continues as if nothing is happening. You try to focus, try to pick up on any part of it, but the words slip past you, meaningless and distant. Your plate is in front of you, the food untouched. You attempt to lift your fork, to act normal, but the second he drags his fingertip along that spot again, your grip falters. The fork nearly clatters against your plate, and you stiffen.

Harry chuckles under his breath, entirely too pleased with himself.

You shoot him a glare from the corner of your eye, but it only fuels his amusement. He’s enjoying this, savoring the way you struggle, the way your body reacts despite your best efforts to fight it.

Then—just as you’re about to lose control, just as your body begins to tighten around him, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter—he pulls away.

You nearly whimper at the loss, at the way the heat between your legs turns into a dull, aching throb. Your chest rises and falls, breath unsteady, hands gripping the edge of your dress in frustration. You dare to glance at him, and he’s already looking at you, smug as ever. He lifts his hand, slipping his finger into his mouth, eyes locked on yours as he tastes you.

Then, as if nothing happened at all, he picks up his fork and resumes eating.

Then—just as you’re about to lose control, just as your body begins to tighten around him, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter—he pulls away.

You nearly whimper at the loss, at the way the heat between your legs turns into a dull, aching throb. Your chest rises and falls, breath unsteady, hands gripping the edge of your dress in frustration. You dare to glance at him, and he’s already looking at you, smug as ever. He lifts his hand, slipping his finger into his mouth, eyes locked on yours as he tastes you.

Then, as if nothing happened at all, he picks up his fork and resumes eating.

You shoot him a glare, but he just shrugs, sipping his wine like nothing happened.

"Be good," he mutters, adjusting himself in his seat. "I’ll take care of you properly when we get home."

But two can play that game. You shift in your seat, letting your hand casually drop under the table—right onto his thigh.

His jaw tightens, a quiet warning.

You lean in, lips grazing his ear. "Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby."

His eyes darken instantly.

The night just got a lot more interesting.

Your fingers move with a lazy purpose, tracing circles along the inside of his thigh. You can feel the tension in his muscles, how hard he’s fighting to keep his composure. But you don’t stop. If he wants to play, so will you.

His fingers flex around his fork, knuckles turning white as you inch higher, teasing him the same way he teased you. His chest rises in a slow, measured breath, but you know him too well—he’s struggling.

“Careful,” he warns, voice a quiet growl only meant for you. “You don’t want to test me, sweetheart.”

You smirk, pressing a little firmer, feeling how hard he is beneath the fabric. “Oh, but I do.”

The conversation carries on around you, oblivious to the war happening beneath the table. You keep your touches light, teasing, making sure no one notices. The power shift makes you bold. You lean in, lips brushing against his jaw as you whisper, “You started it.”

His jaw clenches, his entire body thrumming with restraint. He doesn’t respond, just downs the rest of his wine and places the glass back onto the table with slow, deliberate ease.

Eventually, the dinner winds down. Harry is quiet as you exchange goodbyes, polite and composed, but you can see the storm brewing in his eyes. You drag out the farewells just to see how far you can push him.

By the time you slide into the car, the air is thick with tension. The driver pulls away, and you barely have a second to process before Harry’s hand is on your thigh, his grip bruising.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he mutters, low and dangerous.

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “A little.”

He exhales sharply through his nose, his fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t need to. The promise in his touch is enough.

The ride is painfully silent. His fingers remain on your thigh, possessive and unmoving, like a silent warning.

As soon as the front door shuts, Harry is on you.

His hands find your waist with ease, firm and possessive, and before you can even think of teasing him further, he spins you around, pressing you against the nearest wall. The air between you is thick with tension, the kind that had been simmering beneath the surface all evening, igniting fully the moment you stepped inside. Your breath hitches, chest rising and falling with anticipation as he cages you in with his body, broad and unyielding.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” His voice is low, rough—nothing like the teasing murmur he used over dinner, when he was playing along with your little game. Now, there’s no mistaking it; he’s done playing.

A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips despite the heat crawling up your neck. You love pushing him just to see how far he’ll go, love the way his patience snaps like a tight string pulled too far. “A little,” you hum, letting your voice drip with defiance.

His jaw clenches, the muscle ticking in irritation—or maybe something darker. His fingers flex at your hips, gripping tighter, holding you still against the wall. He leans in, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“You have no idea what you’ve just done, sweetheart.”

The words send a thrill straight through you, pooling heat in your stomach. He doesn’t wait for a response. His hands are already moving, one sliding around to the small of your back, the other dipping lower, skimming the hem of your dress. He tugs it up just enough to expose more of your thigh, his fingers teasing the bare skin there, deliberate and slow.

“You think I wouldn’t notice?” he murmurs, his mouth trailing down, barely brushing the sensitive skin beneath your jaw. A shiver racks through you when his teeth catch just slightly, enough to make you gasp. “You in this dress, looking at me like that all night? Saying all those things just to get a rise out of me?”

You swallow hard, trying to steady your breathing, but it’s impossible when he’s this close, when his presence alone makes your knees weak. “And what if I was?” you challenge, your voice barely above a whisper.

A sharp exhale leaves him, and then his hips press against yours, pinning you in place. There’s no mistaking the hard evidence of exactly what you’ve done to him. “Then you’re about to find out exactly what that does to me.”

His hand trails higher, fingertips ghosting over the inside of your thigh, making you arch into his touch instinctively. The anticipation alone is enough to have you breathless, every nerve in your body hyper-aware of his movements, his touch, his voice.

“Tell me, love,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up with his fingers so you have no choice but to meet his gaze. It’s dark, smoldering, filled with something just on the edge of restraint. “Did you wear this just for me?”

Your heart pounds against your ribs as you bite your lip. “Maybe.”

His eyes darken further, and the corner of his mouth lifts in something that isn’t quite a smile. “You like teasing me?” His grip tightens slightly, thumb stroking over your jaw before trailing down the column of your throat, a silent reminder of just how in control he is.

You don’t answer. You can’t. Not when he’s looking at you like that, not when he’s so close, his lips hovering just over yours, waiting, daring you to break first.

“Because that little game you played at dinner?” His voice is lower now, thicker, dripping with the kind of promise that makes your stomach flip. “That’s going to cost you.”

And then his lips crash onto yours, all restraint snapping in an instant. His hands are everywhere—gripping, exploring, claiming—while his body presses you deeper against the wall, as if he can’t get close enough. You melt into him, into the heat, into the way his mouth moves against yours, demanding and desperate all at once.

He’s not just kissing you. He’s consuming you.

His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your dress higher, bunching the fabric at your hips. His touch is searing, fingers dragging along your skin with purpose, igniting a fire beneath every inch they explore. The rough pads of his fingers contrast against the softness of your skin, teasing, pressing, exploring. His grip on your ass is firm, squeezing possessively before delivering a sharp slap that makes you gasp, the sting fading into a pulsing warmth that sends a fresh wave of arousal through you.

He chuckles darkly at your reaction, his knee pressing between your legs, forcing them further apart. The pressure is just enough to keep you aching for more, but not enough to satisfy the growing need inside you. "Look at you," he murmurs, his fingers grazing up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, slow and deliberate. "Still soaked for me. Such a desperate little thing, aren’t you?"

Heat surges through you at his words, your body betraying just how much his teasing affects you. His fingers skim over the damp fabric of your underwear, feeling the evidence of your arousal. He tuts, shaking his head as if disappointed. "I barely touched you at dinner, and you were ready to come undone right there in front of everyone." His voice is thick with amusement, but there’s something darker beneath it—something possessive, something that tells you he’s going to make you pay for every second of your teasing.

You shift against him, trying to grind against his knee, searching for any kind of relief, but his grip tightens instantly. "Uh-uh. You’re not in control, baby. I am."

With a quick, decisive movement, he hooks his fingers into your underwear and rips them down, the fabric sliding down your legs to pool at your ankles. The cool air against your exposed skin makes you shiver, but it’s nothing compared to the way his fingers brush over your folds, spreading your wetness, teasing, never quite giving you what you need. His touch is maddening, featherlight strokes that keep you on edge, keep you trembling with anticipation.

"I should bend you over this table and fuck you right here," he muses, voice dripping with authority, with the promise of something utterly sinful. "But that would be too easy."

Instead, he sinks to his knees before you, his broad hands gripping your thighs, keeping them spread. The sight of him there, between your legs, dark curls falling over his forehead, eyes burning with hunger—it’s almost too much. He looks at you like you’re something to be worshipped, but also something to be broken apart, unraveled slowly, piece by piece.

His lips brush against your inner thigh, his breath warm and teasing. His tongue flicks out, barely grazing your clit, making you jolt, a whimper escaping before you can stop it. But just as quickly as you feel him—he’s gone, pulling back with a smirk. "No, not yet."

A desperate sound catches in your throat as he licks up your arousal but never gives you the pressure you’re desperate for. He drags it out, taking his time, teasing you mercilessly. Every time your hips buck, every time you try to chase his mouth, he pulls away, making you suffer in the best way possible.

"Told you, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and taunting. His lips hover just above where you need him most, his breath sending shivers through your body. "You don’t get to be greedy."

He waits, watching you tremble beneath his touch, watching your chest rise and fall in ragged breaths. He wants you on the edge, wants you desperate, wants you aching for him in a way that borders on unbearable. And he won’t give in—not yet.

Not until you’re completely undone for him.

And then, finally, he gives in.

His lips wrap around your clit, sucking it into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure. At the same time, two of his fingers slide inside you, stretching you open, filling you in a way that has your back arching off the surface behind you. The moan that rips from your throat is wrecked, raw, and needy, the sound of pure surrender.

He groans in response, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His free hand grips your hip tightly, holding you in place as your thighs threaten to snap shut around his head. But he doesn’t let you—he keeps you open, keeps you exposed, keeps you right where he wants you.

His fingers move with precision, curling just right, pressing against that perfect spot deep inside you over and over. Every movement, every stroke, every flick of his tongue is deliberate, calculated to drive you closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, you’re clenching so tight," he murmurs against you, his breath hot against your slick skin. "You gonna come for me, love?"

You nod frantically, your hands scrambling for something—anything—to hold on to. His hair, the edge of the table, the fabric of his shirt—none of it is enough to ground you as the pleasure builds, higher and higher, coiling tight in your stomach, threatening to snap.

And then—

He pulls away completely.

A choked, frustrated whimper leaves your lips, your body trembling, aching for release. But he only smirks, standing up slowly, towering over you as he watches you struggle to catch your breath.

"Did you think I’d let you come that easy?" he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement, but there’s an unmistakable edge beneath it. His hand grips your jaw, tilting your face up to his. His thumb brushes over your swollen bottom lip. "After the shit you pulled tonight?"

You barely have time to process the question before he reaches for his belt, unfastening it with slow, deliberate movements. The sound of the leather sliding through the loops sends a shiver down your spine, your thighs squeezing together instinctively.

"On your knees." His voice is dangerously low, dark and commanding, leaving no room for argument.

You obey instantly, your body reacting on pure instinct. Lust pools in your stomach as you watch him pull his cock free, thick and already leaking at the tip. The sight of him, flushed and hard, makes your mouth water, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you look up at him with wide, wanting eyes.

He drags the head of his cock over your lips, smearing precum across them, teasing you just as much as he had been before. "Open up, baby," he murmurs, his tone deceptively soft, laced with something darker. "Since you wanna be a tease so bad, let’s see how well you use that mouth."

You part your lips obediently, your tongue flicking out to taste him before you take him in, inch by inch. You hollow your cheeks, sucking him in deeper, your throat stretching to accommodate his size. A low groan rumbles from his chest, his head tilting back slightly as his fingers tangle into your hair.

"Fuck—just like that, sweetheart," he rasps, his hand pressing lightly against the back of your head, guiding your movements. "Such a good little thing for me now, huh?"

He pulls you off with a slick pop, his hand shifting to your chin, tilting your face up so you have no choice but to look at him. His thumb drags across your swollen lips, smearing the mess of saliva and precum. His gaze darkens, heat rolling off of him in waves. "Think you’re ready to take what I owe you?"

Your breath catches, anticipation coiling in your stomach as he helps you up, guiding you onto shaky legs. His grip is firm as he spins you around and bends you over the dining table, pressing your chest to the cool surface. He doesn’t hesitate, one large palm sliding up your back before retreating, only to come down hard against your ass. The sharp crack echoes through the room, a stinging warmth blossoming across your skin.

"That’s for making me hard in public," he growls, kneading the flesh before landing another slap, watching the way your body jolts in response.

Before you can even catch your breath, he lines himself up and thrusts forward, slamming into you in one deep, punishing stroke. The force of it knocks the air from your lungs, a wrecked moan spilling from your lips as he fills you completely, stretching you to the point of delicious discomfort. He doesn’t ease you into it, doesn’t give you time to adjust—not after the way you teased him all night.

His grip is bruising, fingers digging into your hips as he sets a relentless pace, each thrust deep and deliberate, pushing you further into the table with every snap of his hips. He’s merciless, his restraint completely shattered, taking exactly what he’s been aching for.

"You feel that, love?" he rasps, voice thick with lust. "That’s what happens when you tease me all night."

A whimper leaves you, nails scratching against the wooden surface as he presses a hand to your lower stomach. He groans when he feels himself moving inside you, the pressure making your walls flutter around him. "Right here, yeah? You feel me right here?"

You can barely think, let alone respond. Your head falls forward, breath coming in short, desperate pants as pleasure coils tighter and tighter. He’s everywhere—overwhelming, consuming, ruining you in the best possible way.

"You’re gonna come like this," he grits out, his rhythm unrelenting. "Stretched around my cock, taking every inch like a good girl."

His fingers slip between your legs, finding your clit with expert precision, rubbing tight, insistent circles that have you teetering on the edge almost instantly. The combination of it all—his deep, punishing thrusts, the way he’s stretching you, the possessive grip on your body—sends you spiraling.

Your orgasm slams into you, pleasure crashing over you in waves, your walls clenching around him as you fall apart. A strangled moan tears from your throat, your body trembling beneath him.

"That’s it, baby—fuck, that’s my girl," he groans, his thrusts growing erratic, deeper, rougher as he chases his own release. He buries himself to the hilt, his grip tightening as his hips stutter, his cock pulsing inside you as he spills deep, a broken moan escaping his lips.

For a moment, neither of you move, both of you breathless and spent. His hands glide over your back, soothing, grounding, before he leans down, pressing a lingering kiss between your shoulder blades.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his voice softer now, tinged with something warm.

You hum in response, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. "More than okay."

He doesn’t pull out right away. Instead, he stays inside you, his body pressed flush against yours, his breaths warm and uneven against your shoulder. His lips, still swollen from earlier kisses, brush over your spine—soft, reverent, like he’s memorizing you with every touch.

"You okay, love?" His voice is lower now, tender in a way that contrasts with the way he had just unraveled you. His hands move over your waist, slow and soothing, fingertips tracing lazy patterns along your skin as if grounding you both in the aftershocks.

You nod, a satisfied hum vibrating in your throat. "Better than okay."

A pleased sound rumbles in his chest before he finally pulls out, a groan slipping from his lips as he watches the way his release spills from you. His fingers brush over your inner thigh, as if resisting the urge to push it back inside. His jaw tightens, his pupils blown wide with something both possessive and enamored.

“Fuck—you look so pretty like this.”

Before you can respond, he scoops you up effortlessly, carrying you to the bed like you weigh nothing. The mattress dips as he lays you down with care, his touch never leaving you. He disappears for only a moment, and when he returns, the cool press of a warm, damp cloth against your skin makes you shiver. He cleans you up gently, his fingers barely grazing over sensitive spots, his touch tender despite the wicked gleam still lingering in his eyes.

Once he’s satisfied, he tosses the cloth aside and pulls you against him, tucking you into his chest. His arms wrap around you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away, one hand splaying over your lower back while the other tangles into your hair. His lips press against your temple, murmuring something too quiet to catch, but the warmth in his voice says enough.

"Next time, you behave at dinner," he mutters, amusement lacing his tone, though there’s an edge of warning beneath it.

A smirk tugs at your lips as you trail a teasing finger over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your touch. "No promises."

His chuckle is low and dangerous, vibrating against your skin as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark with promise, his fingers tightening ever so slightly against your hip.

"Good," he murmurs, voice husky and laced with anticipation. "I like a challenge."

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

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Pet Name Headcannons Masterlist

Sexy and Everyday 

A lot are redundant but like oh well lol 😂 I only have so much brain power lol 😂 🙄🙄

WARNINGS: 18+

*This is from my old account so it's the un-updated version since I first wrote it on Google Docs then like a dumbass kept updating on Tumblr lol *

This will be a MASTERLIST of snippets/one shots of them using the pet names!!!

Luffy - mami, mamas, mama, Y/N (I can not stress enough how much he would repeat your name!!) 

Zoro- woman, brat, whore, little girl, princess (in a taunting way-polar opposite to Sanji)

Sanji- my love, princess, daddy’s girl, good girl, pretty girl, mommy

Usopp- mami, babe, baby girl, baby, honey

Franky- darlin, sweetheart, honey, sweetie, baby, pretty lady

Law- baby girl, princess, my love, babe, Y/N (with how hot his voice is he would love saying your name!) 

Eustass- messy girl, kitten, pipsqueak, cock slut, bug, little mamas, cumdump, cry baby 

Killer- darlin, princess, baby girl, little one, baby

Doflamingo- dove, whore, messy girl , love (very rarely would he use ‘love’ but it would mean a lot) 

Sir Crocodile - baby girl, princess, my little slut

Smoker- darlin, sweetheart, love, honey, baby doll

Marco- birdie, mate, baby bird, songbird, little bird (birds birds BIRDS!) 

Thatch- honey, puddin, sugar, Angel cakes, sweet pea (food names cause he gives dad vibes 🤤)

Izou- my little cherry blossom, love, dear

Whitebeard-  love, dear, sweetheart, tiny thing, little thing, little one (anything pointing out his size and you can’t tell me no on this 🤣) 

Ace- darling, baby girl, princess, hot stuff, babe (firmly believe he will babe the shit outta you)

Sabo- my love, my dear, cock whore, dumb slut, bitch (just feel like he would love the harsh degradation 🤷‍♀️sorry not sorry 😬) 

Monkey D Dragon- love, dear, sweetheart (him groaning out sweetheart 😮‍💨)

Garp- little one, sweetheart, princess, bratty girl, dirty/messy girl, sweetie, darlin

Akainu- brat, princess, little girl, whore, cumslut, crybaby

Kizaru- lightning bug, my shining star, mamas, baby girl, sunshine (names involving light) 

Aokiji- ice princess, mama, babe, baby, snowflake 

Fujitora- wisteria, darling, my flower, rose, little peony, tiger lily (FLOWERS ALL DAY EVERYDAY!!! Whatever flower you can think of he’s calling you 😍🫶🏼)

Shanks- darlin, baby, baby girl, doll, baby doll, princess 

Benn- doll, baby doll, darling, love, princess

Mihawk- my dear, my love, naughty girl, princess, bloody princess (idk why I picture him speaking Spanish/ Italian saying princessa 😮‍💨😭🤤 idk if he speaks it but shit lol 😂 ) 

Buggy- superstar, rockstar, beauty queen, my diva, doll, clown whore, sugar/sugar bear (what you call him)

X Drake- mate, babe, baby girl, little one

Kaku- lil lady, sweetheart, darling, Raffe (short for giraffe 🦒)

Rob Lucci- Pretty Kitty, kitten, brat, whore, slutty kitty (no way he doesn't have a pet play fetish! ya can’t change my mind on this!)

Paulie- sweetie, pretty girl, darling, baby doll, princess, pretty mamas, my little whore, slut, naughty/dirty/messy girl (secret freak idc! I think he shamed Nami cause he’s a hidden pervert and she was making him feel some kind of way lol 😂 !)

King- my queen, my love, dear, little one, naughty thing

Kaido- little one, whore, brat, bad girl

Vinsmoke Bros- cock whore/slut, brat, woman, slutty puppy/kitty, good girl, pathetic slut, my little whore, mommy (hidden mommy kink!!!)

Red Leg Zeff- princess, sweetheart, kid, honey, doll, darling (old school lol)

Katakuri- my sweet(s), my love, darling, dear, little one, sweetheart

*banner*

[shy-writer-999]

z's masterlist & navigation page

welcome to my safe space! masterlist below~ requests are closed!

come have a sweet treat with me! some bubble tea, some dessert, or maybe some smut? i promise my fics are nasty (✿˘ω˘)˘ε˘˶ )

see my post on requests, rules, & tags, as well as my kofi!

my masterlist

here are links to all of my fics. 99% of them are NSFW - i've designated which are SFW with a 🤍 - my personal faves have a ⭐!

special event links

kinktober '24 masterlist

holiday event '24 masterlist

RORONOA ZORO (o˘◡˘o)

PORTGAS D. ACE ⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝

SANJI (*ﾉωﾉ)

MONKEY D. LUFFY

Monster Trio on the Phone

Monster Trio & mirror sex

Monster Trio & thigh riding

Monster Trio & when they cum too early

When they're drunk 🤍

Kinktober '24 pieces:

Mutual masturbation

Law x Luffy x Reader threesome

Luffy and aphrodisiacs

TRAFALGAR LAW

Law & the reader's first time

Law & Ace During Phone Sex

One Piece Men and Their Kinks

How One Piece men use your panties & what they do when they get caught

Law & thigh riding

When they cum too early

Law's happy trail drabble

When they're drunk 🤍

Kinktober '24 pieces:

Breeding with Law

Law x Luffy x reader threesome

Degradation

Fluffy/romantic stuff (teeny tiny bit of smut here)

SABO (coming soon)...

OTHER / ASKS

SFW/NSFW Headcanons for Paulie

Mean croc w/devil fruit powers

Croc in prone bone

Croc devil fruit powers

Crocodile Christmas present one-shot

now sit back, relax, and read some smut with me! 🤍🤍

all of my dividers/banners are from @cafekitsune (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ but for my holiday event, all of the dividers used will be from @issysh3ll ~

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Real Pretty

pairing: joel miller x reader

(AO3 mirror) summary: You and Joel are not in a relationship. But Joel gets jealous anyways. 

author's note: Timeline's a little hazy, au where Joel, Ellie and Y/N stay in Jackson and nothing bad happens ever. 

warnings: fluff, Joel's OOC as shit (what's new), filthy filthy smut (you have been warned), 18+ minors DNI

wc: 1.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can't stop staring. Oh god, he's pretty. You steal a glance at him with a mouthful of food by the canteen table. He's just woken up, by the looks of it: shirt a little wrinkled and hair all over the place. With a yawn, the base of his denim shirt lifts up to expose his tan belly, right at the v-line, with a dark tuft of hair leading right down to.. 

SLAM! Ellie bangs her tray on the table and clatters into her seat. 

"You look like shit." she says with a toothy grin. 

"And you smell like shit, you little gremlin." You snap, without missing a beat. Woah. Too much, maybe. 

She just laughs, her smile a bit wider, and that glint in her eye. "Oh yeah? Well I heard that somebody had a real good night yesterday." 

You pause to give Ellie a look. A look that says she's too young and too nosy. And, most importantly: what the fuck was she talking about? 

"That guy? Paulie or Peter or what's-his-face? Heard he slept over at the clinic." 

"Huh?" you splutter, almost choking on your food. 

"Kathy's mom saw him walking out of the clinic this morning. Using the backdoor. Everyone's talking about it." she tells you like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Ellie, nothing happened. And if it did it would be none of your business."

"Uh-huuh." 

"I'm serious. Nothing. Happened. You should know better than to trust gossip. This kind of thing can be really hurtful and you're lucky I don't-" 

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Joel definitely doesn't know." 

"Joel doesn't know what?" He walks up and pulls out the chair next to you, plate of food in one hand.

"Somebody," she looks you dead in the eye. "boinked Petey last night in the clinic but doesn't want to admit it." 

That last line made you squint. Ah. Now you get it. Ellie's attempt at revenge for teasing her about a certain crush she 'doesn't want to admit'. Touché. 

"Boinked?" Joel coughs into his eggs. "Jesus, forget I asked."

~~~

Later, Joel meets you in the makeshift office of the clinic after hours. It had been surprisingly quiet considering the bustle of the previous week. So much so, that you jolt at the knock at the door. You forgot he was coming over to mend a broken cupboard. 

He comes with a toolbox and kneels by the cupboards, propping up the broken door with one hand and a screwdriver in the other. The very door you had struggled to open and close not too long ago. He had picked it up with ease, and you watched in awe as his hands took out the worn screws, dexterous and nimble. The room was so quiet, you couldn't help yourself. 

"I patched him up and worked late. He took one of the beds and was out like a light, I swear." 

"I believe you." He doesn't look up. Is he mad? Jealous, even? His face was stoic, unreadable and so you kept going. 

"I was just taking inventory. And I can handle myself, you know that or else I never would've taken the chance." 

"I know." Nothing. Again. You slump in your chair and watch him finish up in silence. 

"Sweetheart," he says, packing up. "You're thinking out loud again."

His voice is soft and it makes you melt. "Everyone thinks something happened Joel. They're gonna think I'm a slut, or something."

He pads over and kneels so he's level with you. Gently, Joel cups your cheek with one hand, and puts his hand on your thigh with the other. 

"That's because you are a slut, sweetheart."

He kneads your thighs, creeping closer and closer to your core. "You're the prettiest fuckin' slut I've ever seen." 

Your mind goes blank when Joel's like this. Voice as soft as butter whispering the filthiest shit whilst stroking your pussy. His fingers ghost over your jeans and you whimper. "I'm not a- fuck!" 

He dips his hand into your underwear. Soaking wet and he's barely touched you. He keeps it slow, drawing lazy circles around your clit whilst holding you close. 

"Don't like hearing those things about you. They don't see you -fuck - like I do. You didn't fuck him, darlin', I know that. But he wanted to. You can see it in his eyes." He's faster now, dipping a finger in and out your hole like it's his job. You hold onto his forearm to steady yourself and hump his hand. Desperately chasing your climax. 

"That's it, that's it. Good fuckin' girl. You wanna cum?" He asks and you nod your head dumbly. "Use your words, darlin'. Need'ta hear you say it."

"Yes, yes, please Joel…. wanna cum-" 

He nods and you throw your head onto his shoulder, shaking as you cum into Joel's hands. He pulls his hand out of your jeans and licks them clean with hooded eyes. He's hard, cupping himself over his trousers and rocking slightly to relieve the pressure. What a sight; Joel Miller on his knees for you, because of you. 

You grab him by the lapel of his shirt and fall into a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. You motion to take off his shirt and start to strip yourself. When your shirt comes off he presses hot kisses into your bare skin; mumbling profanities into your collarbone and the peak of your tits. 

His pants come off and you reach to pump him; his tip red and sticky with precum. He groans and grabs your hand, lips plump and swollen from kissing you. 

"-shit, not yet," He helps you stand, and bends you over the desk, bow-legged. You're hot and sticky and desperate now, whining for him to fill you up-

-and he does, in one swift motion, without any warning or prep. "You're gonna take what I give you, ain't that right sweetheart?" 

You nod haphazardly, whining under his grip. His hips piston into you at just the right angle, so fast you're seeing stars. 

"No-one else can fuck you like I can, don't forget that. Next time, a little shit like Petey comes round, you tell him you're mine, won't you?"  You're babbling now, incoherent as pleasure builds in your gut. "All mine. All. Fuckin'. Mine." 

With that, a coil snaps, and your legs collapse under the pleasure that washes over you. Joel is quick to follow, turning you around so that when he cums on your stomach, he can see the bliss on your face. Gently, he picks you up like a blushing bride into the next room, onto one of the treatment beds. He gets a towel from the supply cupboards and cleans you up, kissing your forehead. He clambers in next to you. It's a tight fit but he manages to snake an arm around and pull you towards him. Soft breath in your ear as you both stare up at the mottled ceiling, speckled in fluorescent light. Well, he did, anyway. You turn to look at him. 

He was even prettier this close. Real pretty. 

[littlexscarletxwitch]

hello I would like to request Flo X reader fic. Where reader is touring with Harry styles. She plays guitar and Flo comes to his concert (she is friends with Harry) and meets Y/n and they hook up later that night (soft smut, maybe some praise or light choking?) . And then like a timeskip to their wedding. Harry gives a funny speech about how they met.

Sorry if it's too much. But this is one of my daydreaming scenarios. I trust you with doing it justice ❤️

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, nsfw, r is harry's friend, flo's also harry's friend, harry is like r's big bro

warning(s): MDNI, +18 ONLY read at your own risk, explicit smut, wlw sex, oral sex, slight praise kink, slight choking kink, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 3.1k

note: It's been a long time coming but here I am lol. I FUCKING LOVED YOUR IDEA ANON. I just love Florence and love Harry so this was on fucking top. I hope you like it, sooo sorry it took me soo long to post it. Love you all, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

The screaming, the singing, the cheering, the whole whole scene just sent shivers up your spine. 

You knew that it wasn’t for you, not really. It was all for him and you couldn’t be prouder of all the things he had accomplished. Sure, he was kinda like your boss, or so the two of you would joke, but in reality Harry was a really good friend of yours. He was the older brother you had never had. 

A sad smile made its way over to your face as the show came to an end. It was always the worst part of the show, knowing that you would have to say goodbye to the unbelievably loud, fun, joyful atmosphere. But the thought of doing it all over again soon offered you some comfort. 

And so it came to an end, as everyone hit the last chord and note, and as Harry said goodbye to every person in the stadium. A second later, all lights went out, and everyone went offstage. 

“I could never get tired of this,” was the first thing you said as you all made their way into your dressing rooms. 

“Damn right!” Sarah agreed. You took a quick glance at her and smiled as you watched her holding Mitch’s hand. 

“They always are so incredible,” Harry said from next to you. “You guys are also incredible. I cannot thank you enough for being here.”

“Get out of here, you dork,” you playfully nudge your shoulder against him. 

“I mean it,” he said, chuckling. 

“I know you do,” you said, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Harry!” you heard someone screaming behind you, causing the aforementioned to turn around. 

“Flor?” he said as a blond woman came running closer. “Flor!” he said, this time sure, as he opened up his arms to hug the woman

She, pretty much, launched herself into his arms as he tightly hugged her. “You were amazing! she said. “You all were!” she finished as Harry let go of her. 

“Thank you, Flor. I didn’t know you were actually coming,” you noticed that Harry couldn't stop smiling. 

“I know, I didn’t either. But I just thought I couldn't miss this, you know,” she nudged Harry’s side as you had done a few seconds before. 

You cleared your throat getting Harry’s attention. “Oh, right. Everyone, this is Florence, fellow actor,” he joked. “Flor, this is everyone: Mitch and Sarah,” he gestured to the couple. “Elin, Niji, Pauli, Ny,” the four of them nodded and waved at her. “And lastly, but definitely not least, Y/n.”

“Hello,” you smiled at her. “Nice to finally put a face to your name.”

“Likewise,” she smiled back, her eyes not leaving your frame and you swore you felt your stomach flipping. “It’s nice to meet all of you, really,” Florence gently shook her head, snapping out of her own thoughts. “I just wanted to say ‘hi’, I guess I’ll be on my way…”

“No, don’t leave,” Harry protested. “We finally get to hang out. Have dinner with me, please,” he said, grabbing her hands. “Y/n and I are going to this amazing restaurant and I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“Oh, no. I don’t want to intrude…”

“Not at all,” you quickly cut her off. “It would be lovely to have someone helping me handle this one over here,” you motioned to Harry. 

“Rude,” he scoffed, as if he was actually hurt but there was a grin on his lips. 

She chuckled, “I’m not sure…”

“Please, I insist.”

“She insists,” Harry repeated your statement. 

“I, um…” Harry looked at her with puppy eyes. “Fine, fine,” she gave up with a smile on her face. “But dinner’s on me.”

“Not a chance,” Harry said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

[...]

“So, this Olivia girl is nuts,” you concluded. 

“Well, I wouldn’t use that word,” Harry said as he winced at your choice of word.

“Yeah, she’s mental,” Florence said otherwise, nodding at you. 

“Was the movie good at least?”

“You didn’t watch it?” Harry asked, but your whole attention was on Florence. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” she answered you. “Fans like it, critics thought it was alright. But the whole cast… there was some weird energy going on…” she shrugged it off as she took a bite of her pasta. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t watch my movie,” you heard Harry keep on complaining.

“It must have sucked. Such great actors and good people were involved, all for her to ruin the whole thing…”

“I’m your best friend, why didn’t you watch it?” he said, turning his head to you so you couldn't ignore him anymore. 

“Jesus! I’m sorry, okay,” you said defensively, making Florence chuckled. “It just slipped out of my mind,” you said as a smile creeped on your lips, mirroring Florence’s.

“You are a bad friend.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are,” he dramatically sighed. “But that’s okay, I still love you,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead as he stood up. “I’m going to the loo, I’ll be right back.”

“He’s such an ass,” you said, once he was gone, as you took a sip of water. 

Florence giggled at your words. “He is, isn’t he?” She cleared her throat. “So, I… I have to ask… Are you and Harry… you know like…,” she said, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks. 

You quickly realised what she meant and almost choked on your water. 

“No! God, no,” you said, clearing your throat, causing Florence to both laugh and sigh in relief. “He’s like my big brother. From the moment we met I just… I knew he would be a big part of my life, and he is… as my brother,” she nodded as a smile found its way to her lips. “Plus, he’s definitely not my type. Like at all, if you know what I mean,” you said, hiding behind your glass again. 

“I think I do know what you mean,” Florence smiled at you in accompaniment. 

“So, you and him never…”

“No,” she chuckled. “I mean we did kiss but it was just acting so…” she trailed off, licking her lips which caused your eyes to quickly look at them. 

“Good to know,” you said as you gulped down the lump that had formed in your throat.

[...]

“I’m sorry I have to leave early,” Harry mumbled disappointed. 

“It’s okay. We had a lot of fun, right?” you winked at Florence to which she nodded. “Drive safe, H,” you mumbled as you hugged him goodbye. 

“Always,” he said as he let you go and went to hug Florence. “Don’t be a stranger, okay, Flor?”

“I won’t,” she hugged him tightly. “I promise.”

“You guys are sure you don’t want me to drop…”

“We’ll be fine,” you quickly cut him off. 

“M’okay, I’m leaving,” he said, making his way to his car. “Good night!”

“Night night!” you said back, watching his back as he left the two of you alone. 

“So, um…” Florence said once she was sure her friend was gone. “Would you like to get some coffee back at mine?” you smiled as her cheeks turned red once again. “Well, it’s not mine. I don’t live there, but I am staying there. So I guess it does count as mine—” she was rambling. 

“I would love to,” you cut her off. 

[...]

The moment the both of you stepped through the door, the coffee was long forgotten. 

“I’ve been waiting to do this the entire night,” she whispered on your lips.

You didn't know how it happened, but the glances on your way to Florence’s house became featherlight touches and next thing you knew she was pushing you inside her house and her lips soon found yours. You weren’t complaining though. 

“Oh, really?” you teased her as you bit her bottom lip. 

“Yes,” she said in between a soft moan, dragging you to the couch. 

“We are doing this here?” you said, as you kissed her neck. 

“The bedroom is too far away,” she said, already breathless, lying on the couch. 

“It’s literally just ten more—.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” she said cupping your cheeks, forcing her lips onto yours. 

The kiss only became rougher as your tongue made its way past her lips, fighting against her own. You could still taste the wine she had earlier along with the ice cream she had for dessert. You moved your lips down, finding once again her sensitive skin and decided to leave your mark on her. Something for her to remember you afterwards. 

“That’s gonna leave a mark.”

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” you said as you kissed right where your teeth had been. “I don’t want you to forget me so easily,” you chuckled, before sucking another part of her skin just to leave another bruise. 

“Trust me, I’m gonna remember this night.”

As best as you could, while still being on top of her, you stripped her out of her clothes. It wasn’t that hard since she was wearing a dress, and she wasn’t wearing a bra like she always would. The only thing keeping you from admiring the entirety of her body was the thin piece of cloth covering her centre. 

“God, you are breathtaking,” you said as your lips wrapped around her nipple.

“Fuck,” Florence muttered as her head fell back, arching her back against the couch. 

Slowly, you made your way down her body, your lips ghosting over where she needed you the most. You brushed your nose against her clothed clit, your hot breath on her making her squirm under you. 

“Y/n…” she whined. 

You licked up her slit, tasting her even through the thin fabric, making you moan into her at how wet she already was. 

“Just take it off already, please.”

“So eager, so wet for me… I like that,” you chuckled, before tugging down the piece of cloth with the help of your teeth. 

As your tongue explored her sensitive centre, your right hand found its way up to her neck and slightly squeezed once you pushed your tongue inside her. You could feel her fast heartbeat under your hand, and decided to keep up with that pace as your tongue thrusted in and out of her. 

You moved your tongue up, finding her clit and sucking hard on it while you used your free hand to push two fingers in her, making her moan out loud. You squeezed her neck a bit tighter, not tight enough to stop her from breathing, just to let her know she was being taken care of. 

“Shit, I won’t be able to hold back for longer,” she cried out, brows furrowed as you keep on working on her. 

“Then don’t hold back, baby,” your voice was muffled because of her cunt. “Just come for me, Flor.”

You thrusted even faster and harder, arching the tip of your finger just to hit her sweet spot, working your tongue rougher on her clit and a second later you felt her legs wrapping around your head as her whole body started to tremble and your name fell out of your lips. You helped her ride her orgasm as you squeezed her neck getting the best out of her as you swallowed every drop of her juices. 

“You did so good for me, babygirl,” you said as you went up to kiss her lips so she could have a taste of herself.

“Bloody hell, Y/n. That was amazing…” she struggled to speak the words out, she was completely breathless. 

“We are just getting started, sweetheart.” 

[...]

After that night, Florence and you exchanged numbers and found yourself reaching out for the other constantly. She would tell you about her job, and you would tell her about the tour. Some nights, when she had a free weekend, she would fly out to where you were and stay in the hotel with you. Those were the best nights ever, just the two of you cuddling and kissing and doing more than just kissing. 

She was one of the best things that had ever happened in a long time, you wanted to let the whole world know she was now yours and you were hers. But if the whole world knew, then Harry would too. And neither of you were sure how he would take the news. You were scared to lose your best friend —your brother— even if it sounded really silly, you were fucking his best friends after all.

There were so many times when you almost told him, after all when touring with your best friend he knew there was something going on with you, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. He would watch as you giggled and smiled at your phone, or he would wonder why you started to stay at the hotels instead of going out with the whole group at night. He didn’t want to intrude, so he settled for waiting for you to open up with him. But curiosity was eating him inside out, luckily for Harry, he would find some answers really soon. 

First night in London was just around the corner, and Florence came along with it, since he decided to invite her to that show as well. You weren’t aware of the arrangement until you stumbled into Harry’s dressing room and she was just sitting there. 

“Hi,” you said, with a tint of uncertainty. 

“Hi,” she just smiled at you and you felt your tummy shrinking. 

“What are you–? How? When?” you felt your anxiety creeping in. 

“I’m seeing one of my best friends performing, and my girlfriend as a plus. How? Well, I guess Harry made it possible and when? I just got here, like twenty minutes ago,” she chuckled. “Do you not want me here?” she joked. 

“No!” you shook your head. “I mean, of course I want you here,” you said, getting closer to her, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your forehead on hers. “I just…,” you sighed. “I’m sorry, I just freaked out because of Harry.”

“I know, love,” she said, caressing your arms. “I think we should tell him, maybe after the show.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

“It’ll go just fine, I promise,” she added, once she sensed your doubt. She cupped your cheeks searching for your eyes. “I promise, okay?” she reassured you.

“Okay,” you nodded, convincing yourself that Florence was right. 

She couldn’t help it and sealed the promise by softly kissing all your doubts and worries away. You didn’t realise how badly you needed that kiss until your breath was taken away. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a caress to your uneasy heart and you felt your entire self melting into her, completely forgetting where the two of you were standing. 

“So this was it,” you heard someone say behind you. 

A pair of stern green eyes met yours and you felt your heart drop to your stomach, but the cold green eyes quickly moved past you. 

“I cant believe you are fucking my guitarist,” Harry simply said to Florence.

You didn’t expect him to snap at Florence, but for some reason there he was doing exactly that.

“Harry!” you chimed in.

“What? It's true, isn’t it?” he shrugged it off, not moving his eyes from Florence.

“It’s complicated,” she attacked him back.

“It’s not complicated. Are you or are you two not fucking? Simple as that.”

“It’s not just fucking,” he winced at the use of the ‘f-word’ coming out of your lips. You were his best friend, almost like a sister and there he was finding out his ‘sister’ was fucking his best friend. “There’s more to it.”

“This is what you had been hiding from me, isn’t it? I knew there was something off with you. I just… I can’t believe neither of you would tell me.”

“We didn’t do it on purpose, Harry,” Flo said.

“It just happened,” his eyes softened once he found yours again. “We didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did, Hazz.”

“So it’s not just, you know…” he didn’t want to say ‘fuck’ again, he had had enough with that word when it came to you. 

“No, it’s not—.”

“I love her,” Florence said. 

“What?” you asked in disbelief, that was the first time she would say that. 

“I do. I love you,” she said now to you. “You feel like home, Y/n. And I want nothing more than to come home every night to you.”

You couldn't help the smile forming on your lips. “I love you too,” you said chuckling. 

“Great! I can’t stay mad at you two if you keep on being this lovely…” Harry huffed. “You know what, I’m just gonna leave. We can talk about this later, or maybe not,” he said making his way to the door, but before he walked out he said: “Though, I want both of you to know that I’m glad you two found each other… and that it was because of me.”

[...]

Three years later. 

Harry cleared his throat before speaking. “I would like to start my best man speech by saying that these two lovebirds met because of me, so I am to thank that we are all gathered here, therefore you are all very welcome,” the room cheered for him, even though it was supposed to be yours and Florence’s night. “When I first found out about them, I just freaked out,” the whole room bursted into laughter both yours and Florence’s family and friends. “I did, I swear. I just couldn't believe it.”

“Harry!” you scolded him.

“Y/n is like my little sister, “ Harry completely ignored you. “And when I found out that my little sister was doing things… unthinkable, unspeakable, unpleasant things, with my so-called friend…”

“Harry!” this time Florence said with a warning tone, making the whole room chuckled.

“I freaked out,” he smiled to himself remembering the moment. “But now, standing here and celebrating their love on this glorious day, their wedding day, I just know it was meant to be. Y/n,” he said looking into your eyes. “You know you feel like a sister to me,” you felt tears burning your eyes. “And I couldn’t be happier knowing that you found the love of your life. And that it’s not just some random stranger you found online or something, “ the room chuckled again. “But it’s one of the best, kind, gentle souls I know,” you searched for Florence’s hand, squeezing it. “I’m glad you found her, Flor. I’m glad you found each other” his eyes were now locked on hers. “And I’m glad you love her just as much as I do, maybe even more,” he winked at her. “So,” he raised his glass of champagne, everyone following suit. “Cheers to the both of you, for your undecaying love,” he was going to take a sip from his glass but he quickly added: “And cheers to me for bringing you two together.”

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[crescenthistory]

…….e1 with Paul? 🙈 you write him so beautifully !!!

thank you lovely, i find paul so endearing to write<33 this is just a little drabble lol

Prompt: E.1 "Loosen up a little"

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: light smut (mdni), more suggestive and spicy than directly smutty, no on-screen sex, gn!reader, not proofread, paul is Stressed Out, established relationship, pre-arrakis

Caladan, the home that was once Paul’s sanctuary, feels tighter around him these days. The salt-scented air that used to bring him solace now feels like a weight pressing down on his shoulders. Endless preparations, the constant shadow of responsibility, and the looming presence of Arrakis in the distance have carved a tension into his posture that has become impossible to ignore.

You notice it before he speaks, of course. You always do. The slight tremor in his fingers as they press into the edge of the table, the way his jaw sets just a little too tightly, as if words he doesn’t dare speak are fighting to get out.

It’s late, the room dim with the light of Caladan’s moons spilling through the windows, casting soft shadows over Paul’s face. He sits at his desk, a mess of reports and holoscreens spread in front of him. It’s been hours. You’ve watched him from across the room, hoping he would come to bed, but the space between you feels insurmountable tonight. The distance isn't in the few metres separating you – it’s the weight of everything that rests on his shoulders.

“Paul,” you murmur softly from your spot, the sound of your voice gently slicing through the quiet hum of the room. He doesn’t turn, but you see the way his fingers curl, gripping the table harder. That alone is answer enough.

You stand, the quiet rustle of your movement barely registering in the large room, and cross the floor towards him. Your footsteps are soft, deliberate, but each step seems to echo louder in the space between you. When you finally reach him, you place a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tightness of his muscles beneath your touch. You ache to massage out the knots that torment him.

“Maybe it’s time to call it a night, love,” you say gently, your voice warm, like an offering.

He doesn’t move for a moment, but you can feel the tension in him, like he’s on the edge of something, holding himself too tightly. His eyes stay fixed on the reports, but you know he isn’t really seeing them. He is somewhere far away – in Arrakis, in the halls of responsibility he’s already learning to walk, in a future he can’t quite yet control. It would be too much for anyone, let alone someone still so young, though sometimes it feels like Paul has always carried the weight of someone older. As if the universe has never really given him the chance to just be. You want to.

“I can’t,” he finally says, voice rough with weariness. “There’s too much–”

You press a little harder against his shoulder, grounding him. “Paul,” you repeat, your tone firmer now. He exhales, his breath coming out in a shudder that he tries to mask, but you hear it. “You can’t carry it all tonight,” you whisper, hand sliding from his shoulder down to his forearm, fingers brushing the cool metal of the ring he wears – a symbol of everything waiting for him. “You need to rest.”

He finally looks up at you then, his eyes dark, filled with something like frustration, but it’s not with you, you can see as much in the fondness crinkling around his mouth. “I have to finish here.”

“You won’t finish before morning, Paulie. And then the same thing will happen tomorrow. You need to rest between the punches. Relax.”

Paul's jaw tightens again, and you can see him struggling with the need to take a break and the part of him that has had no rests drilled into him..

You move in front of him, pulling the reports gently from his fingers, letting them scatter back across the desk in a forgotten mess. He doesn’t resist, just watches you with those sharp, intense eyes of his, always calculating, always thinking. Right now, you don’t want him to think. You want him to feel. To let go, even just for a moment.

You slide onto his lap, your knees bracketing his hips, and his hands instinctively come to rest on your waist, though his touch is hesitant, careful.

“You’re allowed to need this,” you murmur, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the tension there. “You’re allowed to want this.”

Paul’s gaze flickers to yours, a storm brewing in the depths of his intense eyes. For a moment, he looks so young, so vulnerable, like the boy he still is under the weight of the expectations placed on him. His hands tighten on your hips, and you feel the tension in him, like he is teetering on the edge.

“I don’t know how,” he admits quietly, his voice rougher now, thick with something unspoken. His eyes drop from yours, looking down at where your fingers trace idle patterns on his chest. “How to let go.”

Your heart aches for him, for the weight he carries alone even when you’re here beside him. You cup his face gently, forcing his gaze back to yours. “Then let me help you,” you whisper. “Loosen up a little.” 

Paul’s breath shudders out again, but this time it’s softer, like a crack in the wall he’s built around himself. Slowly, tentatively, you turn his head to the side and lean down to kiss his neck. You begin at the small part of shoulder you can see beneath his white linen shirt, and press open-mouthed kisses up towards his ear and jaw, fingers undoing the top buttons of his shirt as you go, splaying your hands out over his chest. Pressing down, you hope to ground him with your presence, your love.

When you reach his face, you lean in, pressing your forehead to his, your lips brushing his, but you don’t kiss him just yet. You wait, letting him close the distance. Paul’s eyes are closed and his features seem to be relaxing.

Without opening his eyes, he knows you are waiting, and with a squeeze to your hips he kisses you. It’s slower than usual, almost unsure, as if he hasn’t decided to fully let go with you yet. But as his lips move against yours, the tension in him begins to melt away, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of the world slips away, leaving you with your Paul.

Through your fumbles, you have fully unbuttoned Paul’s shirt and let your hands explore his familiar chest unabashedly. He sighs into your mouth at your touch, and you take the opportunity to slip his bottom lip in between yours, sucking lightly with enough bite to satisfy and entice him. One of his hands moves from your side to your hair, grasping at it.

You break the kiss to drag your lips further over his jaw, grinding your hips into his, revelling in the soft sound he makes. It’s like he has given himself to you, allowing you to work out his tension with your attentive care. Every part of Paul is in your possession as you roll your hips against his, night slip rolling up with each move, your fingers trail across his bare flesh, scratching as you please, and your lips move feverishly down the other side of his neck. 

When you kiss his neck this time, there are no restraints. You nibble on his earlobe, bite his pulsepoint and lick over it soothingly, leaving as many marks as you please. He whispers your name into your hair and you come undone for him.

Your hand travels down to hook into the waistband of Paul’s pants, and he gasps. You depart from his neck to look at his expression. His breathing is heavy, but the tightness in his shoulders has eased and he looks at you with absolute reverence.

You smile softly, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “Better?” you ask.

Paul closes his eyes, resting his head against your chest, letting out a long, slow breath. His arms wrap around you, holding you close.

“Yes,” he murmurs, voice softer now, almost reverent. “Better.”

“Convinced to come to bed to let me help you relax yet?” There is a teasing tone in your voice that you are sure he doesn’t miss.

He kisses your chest, pretending to nip a bite at you, before looking up to smile at you. 

“You win, my love.”

[mdemn]

i have read this several thousand times since seeing it in my notifs. your praise means the world to me every time!!!!!!!! it actually feels surreal that one of the greatest linguists of all time (you) even read the words i put out and then ENJOY THEM !!!! @mwwktn so lucky n blessed w the greatest mutuals of all time. lots n lots n lots of love for you himeno 🥹🥹🥹🥹

[aces-naughty-corner]

Thinking about sitting on Paulie’s lap, dry humping him while Iceburg sits behind, leaving lipstick marks and groping him while occasionally making out with me

[justnatoka]

Distractions

Paul x GN! Reader

A/n: This one got spicier than anticipated. I have no regrets.

Word count: 700

Warning: nsfw themes, mild smut (minors dni!)

Prompt: "Give me attention."

Paul is feeling needy.

You’ve been sitting at your desk, trying to get work done for three hours. Three hours! You could have finished a long time ago had it not been for one very annoying (and very attractive) vampire. Said vampire was hovering over you at the moment, strands of his hair tickling your skin as they brushed against your neck.

“Babe.”

“Yes, Paulie.”

“Are you done yet?”

“No, and the more you ask, the longer it takes.”

“But baaaaabe. I’m booooored. Can’t you just finish it later?”

“I have to hand this in as soon as I can, so no, I can’t just finish it later. Now stop whining and let me do this.”

He collapsed on the chair you begrudgingly brought over so he can sit beside you, promising to be quiet and let you work. That was the only rule. You should have known that Paul wasn’t the type to just sit down and shut up. For the last two and a half hours since he knocked on your window, he was poking you, braiding your hair, making a mess in your CD collection while commenting on each and every one of them, going through your closet, raiding your fridge, and somehow even got stuck in your bathroom so you had to go and let him out. And don’t forget the classic rolling around on your bed while sighing obnoxiously loud every two minutes.

You faintly registered in the back of your mind the sound of his chair scraping across the floor, and even wondered for half a second what he was planning now, but tried to tune him out as much as possible.  That was until you felt his breath on your neck, followed by his lips ghosting over your skin before pressing a kiss near your ear. A shiver ran through you as he slowly made his way down the expanse of your neck to your shoulder then back up again. You didn’t even notice his arms sneaking around you, your senses too preoccupied at the moment. You quickly became aware of them however, when you felt his hand wriggle its way under the hem of your shirt, his thumb lightly stroking the warm skin of your stomach, his fingers stopping just short of your waistband. It was a promise of what’s to come if you would just let him.

“Babe,” he purred in your ear as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Give me attention.”

Oh, the seductive bastard was playing dirty. His voice had a teasing lilt to in that had you on edge in the best way possible. You didn’t give in so easily though.

When you didn’t react, he decided to take it a step further. He started laying open mouth kisses all over your neck, and you gasped when you felt him suck on a particularly sensitive spot. Of course he knew your body like the back of his hand, knew exactly which buttons to push and how much to have you a trembling mess in his arms. And when you felt him gently bite down, you couldn’t stop the moan escaping your lips. His breathy chuckle reverberated deep in your core, sparking a pleasurable tingling between your legs.

He was definitely playing dirty. But at this point you couldn’t care less. Turning around in a flash, you were on him within seconds, tackling him on the bed and capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. Your hands sneaked into his hair, pulling on the messy strands, causing him to moan in your mouth. You attacked each other with such a passionate frenzy, tugging on clothing, messing up the sheets, you barely stopped for breathing. When you finally did, just before you made your way down his body, you just had to make a small teasing comment.

“You got what you wanted. I hope you’re happy with yourself now.”

“I am, very much,” he grinned at you, his expression full of love but also smug satisfaction.

You shook your head with an amused smile before sucking a hickey on his bare hip, his face morphing into one of pleasure, earning you a deep groan. Guess your work can wait a few hours.

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

[candycandy00]

Loose Ends - A Rob Lucci x Reader Fanfic

You work as a waitress at a bar in Water 7, and become involved with Rob Lucci.

Fem Reader. Light smut. 18+. Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

You met Rob Lucci a few days after he came to Water 7. He and his shipwright pals came into the bar where you worked as a waitress, and to be honest, he didn’t make much of an impression on you. Sure he was handsome and his pet pigeon was cute, but he was quiet amongst a very loud and boisterous group, all of whom demanded far more attention than him. 

The first time you really focused on him was a couple of weeks later, when Paulie got a little too drunk and started complaining about your short skirt. He called you “shameless”, and though you knew his quirks, you still felt insulted. 

Before you could even respond, Lucci, through his pigeon, called Paulie out for his behavior. “You’re being rude,” Lucci said. “Apologize.”

Those simple words seemed to work. Paulie said he was sorry and then avoided looking at you for the rest of the night. Later, you brought Lucci an extra drink on the house as thanks.

Over the next few months, you became friendly with Lucci, or at least as friendly as you could. He was still more quiet and reserved than his friends, but occasionally he stayed a little later than them and had one more drink before leaving. 

It was during these times that you talked to him most. You got the impression he was a very private person, so you stuck to casual chitchat - questions about how work was going or about his pigeon. 

You began keeping a few crackers in the pocket of your apron to feed his pigeon, and it reached the point that the bird would fly over and land on your shoulder sometimes. 

One night, nearly eight months after you met the man, Lucci stayed far later than usual at the bar. He seemed to have something on his mind, but you knew better than to ask. You brought him an extra drink and told him you’d be closing up soon. He’d only nodded as he lifted the mug to his lips. 

After you cleaned the place up, you headed for the door. Lucci walked out with you, and on a whim you asked him to walk you home. 

He seemed mildly surprised by the request, but he ultimately agreed. As the two of you walked down the street toward your small house, his pigeon remained on your shoulder. If Lucci felt anything about this, he didn’t show it. 

When you reached your front door, you both stood there silently for a moment. Lucci lingered, as if he were trying to kill some time. You thought you could help him with that. 

“Want to come in?” you asked. 

His eyes met yours. He knew exactly what you were offering. There was a bit of hesitation, then he said, “Sure.”

Thus began your casual relationship with Lucci. A few nights a month he stayed at the bar until closing time, walked you home, and then came inside after being invited. 

The sex was incredible. Lucci was a primal, yet generous, lover. He always left you completely satisfied, and exhausted. You tried to return the favor. 

You didn’t hear his real voice until several weeks into your relationship. It came out as a low pitched moan when you were sucking him off while he sat on your couch, his head tossed back and his hair spilling over his shoulders. 

He didn’t mention it when it happened, but the cat was out of the bag, so to speak. From then on he used his real voice when the two of you were alone. Even so, he remained a quiet man. You never asked him why he spoke as the pigeon around others. That felt too much like a personal question, and he didn’t like those. 

Rob Lucci was a mystery, even after years had passed. You knew every inch of his body, the sounds he made when he came, what his mouth tasted like, but you ultimately knew nothing about him. You didn’t know his favorite food, where he was born, or if he had any siblings. 

You didn’t mind at the time. The two of you had sex occasionally and that was the extent of it. You never went on dates or hung out, so what would be the point of getting to know each other better? 

The sex was good enough to keep you content. The way his taut muscles moved beneath his skin as he thrusted into you was a marvel to behold. 

One night, while he had you pinned under him, fucking you in a mating press, one of his hands slid up to rest on your throat. He applied no pressure, there was no grip, no choking. But you got the distinct impression he was fully capable, both physically and mentally, of snapping your neck in an instant. Even though his hand was gentle, you felt like there was a strange, unspoken threat lingering in the air. 

An extremely brief spike of fear shot through you, gone as quickly as it arrived, because you climaxed at that moment and then all you could feel was searing hot pleasure. 

One night, nearly five years after you met him, Lucci showed up at your door. The bar had been closed the past few days in order to prepare for Aqua Laguna, so you hadn’t seen him lately. It was strange for him to appear out of the blue that way, even stranger for him to ask to come in. He always waited for an invitation before. 

He was uncharacteristically affectionate that night, fucking you in a more intimate way than usual. He almost seemed… needy. 

After it was over, he sat on the edge of your bed, putting on his boots. You laid behind him, staring at his back and wondering for the hundredth time how he got such distinguishing scars. Another question you’d never ask. 

“I’ll be leaving Water 7 soon,” he said, abruptly breaking the silence in the room. 

You sat up. “How soon?” 

He didn’t look back as he pulled his white tank top over his head. “Probably a few days.”

You couldn’t stop the questions spilling from your lips. “Why? Where are you going?”

He glanced back at you, some unfamiliar emotion in his eyes that you’d never seen before. “Don’t ask me anything. I don’t want you to become a loose end I’ll have to take care of later.”

A chill ran down your spine. You understood what he was saying very clearly. You always suspected Lucci was dangerous, but now he’d basically confirmed it. 

At the same time, you realized he was giving you a warning he most likely never gave others. He was allowing you a tiny glimpse at who he truly was. 

You smiled at him. “I guess this is goodbye then. I’ll miss you, Lucci.”

He looked at you for a long moment, then headed toward the door. Without looking back, he said in a quiet voice, “I’ll miss you too.”

And then he was gone. 

In the following days, chaos erupted in Water 7. You heard stories about Lucci and his fellow shipwright Kaku being involved in the attack on Iceberg, and though it hurt to think he could do that to someone he seemed to respect, in your heart you knew it was true. 

Lucci was still out there somewhere, probably doing very dangerous things. But he said he’d miss you, so you liked to believe he thought of you sometimes. Perhaps he remembered being in your bed, in your arms. Maybe his mind drifted to the streets of Water 7 as the two of you walked from the bar to your home, his pigeon riding on your shoulder. You hoped they were fond memories for him. 

They were for you.