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silverbrain · 13 days ago

Text

Keep Quiet...

NSFW, Minors Do Not Interact

Tropes- smut, semi-public sex, fingering, hand job, drunk sex, sex in the closet, balcony sex.

Pairing- Reader x Xavier, Reader x Rafayel, Reader x Zayne, Reader x Sylus.

Summary- Xavier getting freaky at the movie theatre. Rafayel getting freaky at a party in a closet. Zayne getting it in an airplane. Balcony freak activities with Sylus.

First time writing smut, gimme all your feedbacks!!

Xavier

You had finally convinced Xavier to watch the new movie with you. After a few stressful weeks at work, you finally had a few days off, and Xavier didn’t have any missions either, so you had put forth the idea, hoping to slowly get him out of his eat-sleep-lounge schedule.

You wear a knee length maroon skirt and a black top and you’re quite pleased with yourself as you turn left and right in the mirror, watching the skirt swish. You hear a knock on the door and open it to see Xavier, dressed in something you definitely haven’t seen him in earlier. He wears a dark blue hoodie and black jeans, that are tight in all the right places. You try not to stare as you envelope him in a hug, when your nose catches a whiff of… is that perfume? “You smell nice”, you comment. “Ah, yes, thanks”, he says, awkwardly, one arm coming up to brush his neck.

It was a strangely empty theatre. You took your seats in the back, mind still reeling from the whiff you caught earlier. Xavier sits beside you, seemingly relaxed. “Why this movie?”, he asks.

“Well, I’ve heard great reviews, so why not give it a try?”, you reply.

“Hmm…”, he says, thoughtfully, “I hope it’s good”

The movie begins. You find your thoughts occasionally drifting to the tall man beside you. How good he looks in blue, how good he smells…Beside you, Xavier puts his hand in yours, rubbing slow circles on your knuckles. You raise an eyebrow questioningly, but think nothing of it, happy to hold his hand.

That is until he lets go of your hand and places the palm of his hand flat on your thigh instead, lightly stroking the maroon velvet of your skirt. You turn to look at him. He keeps his eyes on the screen, low lights glinting across his pretty eyes.

He brings his hand to your knee, now drawing light, ticklish patterns in the skin. He draws a few squiggly figure 8s before you catch on. Oh. They’re letters. S. You look at Xavier. O. He continues to spell out letters on your knee. P, he spells next.

And then R. He continues the trail of letters inwards, up your thigh.

You internally sigh as you feel the beginnings of a familiar feeling tingle through you.

“Xavier…”, you ask questioningly.

“Shh baby…”, he leans in to whisper, the warmth touching your ear and sending a tingle down your spine. “Let me”

You shudder at his words as his hands slip upwards, toying with the skin of your thighs. E-T-T-Y. He ends the last letter dangerously close to your core, fingers almost brushing your underwear.

You almost shift forward, and instead bump your foot into the seat in front of you. The person grumbles a little and almost turns around as your freeze. Xavier, on the other hand, simply stills his hand and continues watching the screen. “I’m so sorry”, you apologize, and the man sits down once more, attention trained on the movie.

You breathe a sigh of relief, not daring to look at Xavier. You could almost imagine the smirk he’s got on his face. He leans in again. “So eager, huh?”, he whispers and you bite down on your lip to keep in the noise that is about to escape your throat.

You look at him, unbothered if sees the absolute need coursing through me. Xavier doesn’t look at you. Instead, he continues to look at the screen, the dim lights illuminating his features as he brings his knuckles to rub at your core. You can’t help but squeeze your legs together and bite down on your lips.

Xavier huffs a small laugh in the back of his throat, and you feel the juices soaking through your panties as he continues to rub lazy circles at your core. He knows. How does he know?

“Please…”, you whisper, as quietly as you can. “Hmm?” You know he heard you, and he’s only teasing. He turns an inquisitive eye towards you, and you can’t help but feel a little annoyed at the teasing. “Please…Xavier…”

He appears nonchalant enough and you wonder when this movie is going to get over, when he suddenly takes his hand away. You shift uncomfortably in the seat as you feel the wetness soaking your panties, dripping down your folds. There’s no way you could do anything right now, not with so many people around. It’s a relatively empty theatre, yes, but the few people in there still seem like too many for the things you need right now.

From the corner of your eye, you watch Xavier bring his hand up to his mouth and suck on his fingers, as if he were washing away the salt from a bag of popcorn. “Mhm…”, he sighs, as his eyes shift to meet yours, “it’s delicious”.

Your mouth falls open as you look away, feeling a desperate new wave of need course through you. You cross your legs, trying to create some pressure against your wet insides. “Uh huh”, he hums, quietly., bringing his hand to your knee, forcing his hand inside, making you uncross your knees. He rests his hand there, for a moment, making you lean forward in anticipation.

“What do you want?”, he asks quietly, “is it this?”, he asks, suddenly dipping into your skirt and shifting your panties to the side as he touches you. A very inappropriate noise almost escapes you as you feel your muscles clench and struggle at the sensation.

“Could’ve just told me”, he says, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

You don’t dare close your eyes, and the danger of the situation hits you all at once, but you don’t find it in yourself to care. Instead, you open your mouth and try to keep breathing evenly.

Xavier’s fingers rub slow circles on your sopping wet folds as you struggle to stay still in your seat, fingers gripping the handles. You can’t help but whine a little.

“Need more?”, he whispers, fingers toying at your entrance till you’re sucking his fingers in, desperate need and desire coursing through you. You nod, not trusting yourself with any words.

The screen plays in front of you, but you’ve lost the plot long ago.

He dips his finger inside a little and you feel yourself clench in anticipation. He stops, though, instead bringing his fingers to spread the wetness around. You nearly whine at the teasing. “What?”, he asks casually, or at least he pretends to, the hoarseness in his voice giving away how it’s affecting him as well.

“More”, you mouth the words.

“As you say”, he says, suddenly thrusting two of his fingers deep inside you. You inhale sharply as something on-screen explodes. You try to hold it in, biting your lip and struggling as he begins to pump his slender fingers in and out, rubbing his palm on your nub rhythmically.

You grip the handles roughly, knuckles white, muscles clenching and throbbing. You turn your head to look at Xavier. You feel a heat course through you as you find his gaze already on you, watching you hungrily. He leans forward to grab your hand, taking it off the chair handle and instead placing it on his arm, still under your skirt.

You look down to look at the way his hand disappears under your skirt and you feel the familiar coil in your stomach squeeze impossibly tight. You look back up at him, as he simply brings up a finger to his lips. Quiet. The message is clear.

Waves of pleasure rush through you as Xavier’s hands slow down, stroking the pulsating high out of you. You try to control your breaths as they come out ragged and shaky, Xavier’s eyes still on you, not budging.

“Great movie, isn’t it?”, he asks innocently.

Rafayel

You were accompanying Rafayel to his friend’s birthday party. You pull up to the address in a deep blue gown and text him.

Rafayel had been running late since Thomas had forced him to attend another of his exhibitions. After none of the excuses had worked, he had ended up having to attend, and was now on his way to the party.

You: r u here yet?

Raf: omw, will reach in like 5 min.

You read the text and wait for him. The party is at a villa complete with a swimming pool, an open bar and a barbeque that you see as you gaze over the massive lawn. A few people mill about, and you can’t help but feel a slight bit intimidated. You see a car pull up and Rafayel gets out, wearing a dark navy suit. He scans the place looking for you, as you exit the car and wave to him.

Rafayel’s eyes widen a little as they fall on you as he steps forward to give you a slight hug. “There you are”, he says, “you look great.”

“Thanks”, you say, “it isn’t too much, is it?”

“You’re never too much”, he says, as you take his arm and enter the party.

The party continues into the wee hours of the night, with drunk people loitering around the pool outside and a few others in random corners of the villa. You stare at the random drink you picked off a tray as your eyes search for Rafayel. He excused himself to visit the restroom and then he had disappeared. You hang around with another hunter that you kind of knew, before deciding to go look for him yourself.

You pass the bar and the kitchen and the vast living room, smiling politely at the ones you made eye contact with. You check a few of the rooms on the first floor, and then climb the stairs to the second.

You pass a room and are about to enter the next when you see a man approaching your direction as you freeze. Blanche was another one of Rafayel’s friends, but he was the type to rattle off story after story when drunk and you really didn’t have the patience for that right now. You look around for an escape before your eyes land on a closet in the corridor. You turn around and quicky shut yourself in the cupboard, hoping it doesn’t have any strange bugs or spiders.

Your phone pings.

Raf: whereee r uuu

You silence your phone hurriedly as you type back.

You: hiding lmao

Raf: ???

You: was looking for u

Raf: where r u now?

You: in the dark brown cupboard in the corridor of the second floor…

You stare at the screen as he begins typing back, but never replies. Outside, Blanche seems to have found his next victim as you hear the faint sound of conversation. You hear a set of footsteps approaching, and you hold your breath, hoping it’s Rafayel. You didn’t want to be caught hiding in a damn cupboard, after all.

The door of the closet swings open as Rafayel stands there, his eyes a bit sleepy. He opens the door and gives you a long look, his eyes travelling up and down, before climbing in and shutting the door behind him.

“What are you doing?”, you whisper hurriedly.

“Joining you...”, he replies.

In the close proximity of the dark cupboard, you’re acutely aware of the faint scent of his perfume. You lean forward and rest your forehead on his chest. He brings his hand up to gently stroke your hair. “Tired?”, he asks.

“A bit...”

He tucks a piece behind your ear as you look up at him. You’re looking at darkness, but you can feel his hot breath against your face.

“You know…”, he starts, “you look exceptionally ravishing today…. Did I tell you that?”

“Uh, yeah…thank you…”, you reply, unsure of the sudden compliment.

“Love showing you off…”, he mumbles next to your ear.

“Is that so?”, you ask teasingly.

“Mmm...” he hums as he leans forward to capture your lips in an urgent kiss, the faint trace of alcohol lingering in the background.

You return the kiss, sensations heightened by the pitch blackness around you. His hand moves to lock around your neck as he holds you in place, licking and kissing into your mouth.

You pull back a little. He pulls back and pants heavily, his breath hitting your face in little puffs.

“Are you drunk?”

“Why? You gonna deny me a kiss if I am?”, he asks.

You take in his state, unsure of what to say. He attacks your lips again, causing you to let out a squeal of surprise. He kisses and kisses and kisses, one hand clutching at your throat, the other at your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You feel the undeniable bulge in his pants rub against you, a little gasp of pleasure escaping your throat. “Rafayel…”, you start.

“Need you…”, he replies, kissing down your throat, moving his hand down your chest. “Really do…”

“We’re”, a gasp escapes your lips as his hands find your chest, massaging a nipple, “in a fucking cupboard, Raf!”

“Does it matter?”, he whispers into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe.

You feel your brain stop in its tracks a little as you chase the feeling of his mouth on your neck. He moves his hand further down your waist, resting at the deep slit of the evening gown. He drags his fingers across the expanse of your thigh while pressing kisses to your collarbones. You find yourself leaning into his touch, wanting more.

He places his fingers below your thigh and brings it up to hook around his sturdy legs. You feel a wave of desire course through you at his actions, pooling between your legs. You bring a hand up to his fluffy hair.

“Please?”, he questions, leaning up, giving your collarbones a respite. You nearly shudder at the way his voice quivers a little, need and desire evident. You allow his hands to slip under your dress and toy at your panties.

A shaky breath leaves you as he slips his fingers inside, groaning at the wetness slipping out of you. “So, you like it huh?”, he asks. You can only gasp silently in response. You pull him forward and kiss at his jaw, earning a growl.

Outside, you hear a set of voices getting closer. Rafayel seems to hear them at the same time. He pauses his movements to listen. The faint sound of two people talking drifts in. He listens for a bit before moving his fingers with increased fervour. You nearly moan at the contact.

He roughly places a hand over your mouth as he speeds up his movements. You throw your head back in pleasure, hands haphazardly reaching out to touch him everywhere.

“Shh…”, he hushes you, before pressing a wet kiss against your mouth. “Do you want them to hear?”

Your hands shakily find their way to his belt, and you tug, which results in him drawing a shaky breath. “So eager…”, he muses, moving quickly to undo his belt.

You shakily reach for his cock, already leaking with desire. You can almost see it even though it is pitch black all around you. Rafayel lets out a quiet gasp as your hand touches him, eyes fluttering shut.

He presses into you, brushing his cock against your slick folds, teasing.

Outside, you hear a man call out to his friend amidst the friendly hum of chatter. You freeze. Rafayel leans forward. You can feel the energy change around him for a second as he pushes into you suddenly.

Sheer pleasure and pain envelopes you as you try to control your sounds. Before you, Rafayel stills for a moment before he starts to move, slowly. Agonizingly. Deliciously.

The steady hum of chatter hums in the air, however you can only focus on the humming of your blood in your ears, as it runs hot with desire and pleasure.

Rafayel leans down to press a kiss to your lips before thrusting in. He does it again. Kiss. Thrust. Kiss. Thrust. You can feel the pleasure radiate off of him. You nearly reach down to touch yourself before he grabs your hand and brings it up to rest of his chest. “Nuh uh”, he says, bringing his hand down to touch you. You almost feel your knees buckle at the pure wave of pleasure that shoots through you.

“Why…”, you start, but it comes out whiny, “why are you like this…”

“You…”, he gasps, “in this, it’s…been driving me crazy…all night”

You gasp as you feel the pleasure build suddenly, the risk making everything more pleasurable. You come suddenly, ripples of pleasure pulsing through you. He fixes his mouth to yours, swallowing a deep moan as he lets go himself.

You feel your knees buckle as the pleasure washes over you, but Rafayel holds you up with his strong arms, resting his head against yours as he comes down from his own high.

Outside, someone looks for him. “Where’s Rafayel?”

“Right here”, he smirks as he whispers into your ear.

You can’t help but chuckle at the situation. Drunk Rafayel certainly is something.

Zayne

You sit beside Zayne in the cramped airplane, body feeling uncomfortable with the buzzing as you flew over various cities. You had been assigned to accompany him for a medical drive yet again, not that you were complaining.

Zayne was especially warm to you today, not bothering to hide his affection for you at all. Not only did he buy you coffee, as he always did, he also suggested watching a movie together and reached out to entwine your fingers together in the cramped space between you. You felt a gush of warmth and affection surge through you at the gesture as you leaned into him, pulling the airline provided blanket closer around you both.

You soon find yourself dozing off, resting your head on his shoulder. Zayne quirks an eyebrow as he notices your eyes closing every so often, till they finally shut as you drift off. He quietly switches off the movie and closes his own eyes, heart warming at the closeness between you two.

That is until you shift in your sleep and place your hand directly on his crotch.

Zayne’s eyes fly open at the sudden contact. He glances down at you, hoping you’d shift and move your hand away, but it doesn’t happen. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

A few moments pass, during which Zayne tries waking you up by tapping your shoulder. You shift a little, only making things worse for him. He gulps a little and decides it’s too much before grabbing your arm by the wrist.

This wakes you up and you jerk violently as you wake. “Just…”, he struggles, moving your hand to your lap, as he settles down in his own seat. You look at him, mouth open, sleep still lingering in your face. “I was dreaming of you”, you admit.

This catches his attention. “Really? What was I doing?”

Your face colors at the question. Why had you even brought it up? “You…”, you try to come up with something that’s less embarrassing than the truth.

Truth is, your mind had conjured up images of Zayne saying your name, over and over, eyes shut, face contorted, in need, but not in pain.

Beside you Zayne quirks an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you were imagining naughty things?”, he teases.

You can’t hide the effect his words have, as you turn away to look at the now black screen in front of you.

“You really did imagine naughty things, huh?”, he says, surprise evident in his voice as he refuses to break his gaze away from your flustered face.

“Stop…”, you try to protest weakly. “Tell me” There’s something in his voice, it’s definitely something and your eyes snap back to his face, holding his gaze for a moment.

You see the way his pupils dilate and his breath comes out a bit shallow as he stares at you. “You and me were…doing things”

“What kind of things?”, he asks, voice low, barely able to keep the sudden lust that’s flooding his body.

“You’re...a mouthful”, you say. Zayne opens and closes his mouth, trying to keep his calm, but failing and failing badly. He shuts his eyes and takes a shaky breath.

You take in his state and a wave of cheekiness comes over you as you shift your hand back down over his crotch. Zayne’s eyes fly open at the contact as his body jerks.

You look up to smile at him slyly. “What?”

“Don’t…”, he shudders, “don’t what me”

You continue rubbing over his pants, feeling his bulge grow. “Do you like it?” He shuts his eyes and ignores your comment, not trusting his voice at the moment. “Me…dreaming of you…like that?”

He opens his eyes only to see your eyes already on his as he opens his mouth and lets out a heavy breath. It comes out shaky and the effect you’re having in him is enough to turn you on.

You feel the wetness stick to your panties, already pooling.

You move your hands deftly to his track pants and slip your hand inside, moving your hands up and down his already leaking length. Zayne can barely hold it together. He pants quickly, before balling up his hands into fists. “N-no, no, no…stop!”, he whispers urgently.

You stop as you look up at him curiously. There’s an urgency in his movements, as he looks over his seat to survey the airplane before grabbing your wrist. You look at him curiously.

“Get up”, he says urgently and your curiosity gets the better of you as you follow him.

In a few steps of his long legs, he gets to the bathroom and shoves you in before getting inside himself and locking it behind him.

Your eyes widen impossibly as you stare at him. “Zayne…we’re gonna get caught!”

“No, we aren’t”, he says with a finality in his voice as he reaches down to lower your sweatpants and panties in one go.

You gasp as the cold air hits you suddenly, but hardly have time to think as he frees himself and grabs your leg to hoist it against the wall. He kisses you, once, desperately, before plunging into you.

A long squelch is heard followed by the sound of your gasp as you struggle with the intense sensation of being filled by him. Zayne breathes heavily in front of you, breath fanning your face.

“This is what you get…”, he says, struggling to hold himself back, “for teasing me, in an airplane, of all places”

He begins to move his hips, pistoning in and out of you as you take it, the situation making you feel hot and wet all over again. Your face contorts in pleasure as he hits that delicious spot inside you over and over again. You grab at his hair and his arms, trying to steady yourself against him.

You can feel you’ve reached your breaking point when he reaches a hand down to roll your nub between his thumb and forefinger. You arch into him, pure pleasure taking over your senses.

He looks at your face intently, your pleasure bringing him closer to the edge. “So…close, sweet-heart”, he pants, “You’re so…”

You nearly whine at his words as you feel the pleasure build inside you. “So hot like this”

“Zayne!”, you say his name as your orgasm hits you, waves of pleasure bursting forth from your core down to your muscles as they clench around him.

He comes soon after, burying his head in your shoulder, as he empties himself inside you.

A minute passes. He unwraps himself from you as he takes in your flushed face and wipes the sweat off his own eyebrow. You look away, suddenly feeling shy about the whole thing. “Don’t get all shy now”, he says, huffing a slight laugh.

Three loud knocks are heard on the door as he says it. You instantly pull up your pants and almost panic when Zayne puts an arm on your shoulder. “Get ready…”, he says, raking a hand through his messy hair. “For…?”

“Bend over”, he instructs. You look at him questioningly, before he jerks your head towards the toilet. “Too bad the plane is giving you nausea, sweetheart”, he says, patting your back before he flushes the toilet and opens the door.

Zayne meets eyes with a disgruntled passenger waiting. “I’m sorry”, you hear him speak, “she’s not doing well in there”

You can’t help but smirk at his quick thinking.

Sylus

You and Sylus stand on the balcony, wine glasses in hand. You both have been drinking as a form of unwinding after another stressful auction. Sylus may pretend to be all cool and unbothered, but you could tell when he was focused on doing the things he did- the stress got to him too.

You take another sip of the cool liquid as a breeze blows suddenly, the cool autumn hair blowing through your hair. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Sylus’ eyes on you, but you say nothing. His eyes continue to blaze into you, all focus, no reprieve.

Below, on the street, a car honks, breaking his reverie, as his eyes dart back to the liquid in his cup. You turn to look at him, he seems a bit…open and kind of…vulnerable? ‘Maybe he’s drunk?’, you think to yourself.

Sylus looks up from his cup to meet your eyes. He freezes for a moment, before letting out a smile. He looks happy, and unguarded and…young, you think, so much younger, when he doesn’t seem as stressed.

“What is it?”, he drawls. “Something on my face?”

“Yeah”, you chuckle to yourself. He frowns a little as he brings a hand up to his face, rubbing absent-mindedly. “Handsomeness”

His eyes widen a little before it clicks and he laughs shortly. “Well, I can’t rub it off my face then”, he says.

You watch him, wondering if you should ask him the question or no. He’d deny it, obviously. Sylus wasn’t the type to admit he was drunk. Even if he was lying face down on the couch. Mumbling. Legs hanging off the side. You chuckle a little to yourself at the memory.

"What are you laughing at, darling?", he purrs.

You shake your head. "Who said I'm laughing?"

He puts his glass to his lips and chugs the remaining liquid before placing it on the floor with a soft clink. He straightens again as he walks over to you, slowly.

You feel the hair on your arm rise as he gets closer. You turn away took look at the cars on the street below. There weren't many.

He stands right behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in your shoulder. You nearly shiver at the sudden burst of warmth of his chest against your back.

"Are you saying my eyes are deceiving me?", he asks, voice rumbling right next to your ear.

You look at him. It was a mistake. Because he's impossibly close and you lean back in shock. "Maybe", you joke, trying to quell the heavy thumping of your heart.

Sylus just hums as he buries his nose in your neck. "Are you lying to me?", he whispers. You can't help the way your breath stutters as you bring your hand up to touch his hair.

"I wouldn't do that...", you say absentmindedly, as you realize how true it is. Something about Sylus when he's like this, so soft and... open makes you feel feelings for him.

Your fingers brush his scalp and he groans softly, pressing a kiss to the base of your neck. You hum appreciatively and his arms tighten around you further. He peppers kisses across your neck, moving to the shell of your ear and you nearly drop your glass right out of your hand when he nips at the earlobe.

"Sylus...", you whisper, voice laced with need. He hums and you feel it thrum through your body.

"What, darling?", he asks. His voice is rough. You meet his eyes and you know he's feeling it too.

You cup his face as you crash your lips with his, desire a free-flowing wave back and forth between the two of you.

Sylus kisses your wine-stained mouth with passion, tongue dancing with yours.

"So pretty...baby you're so pretty...", he pants and you feel yourself physically need him. His hands move from wrapping around your middle to ghost over your body, lower and lower.

You moan at his touch as you press back into him, needing his touch, needing him. You gasp as you feel him press into you, almost grinding himself against you.

"Look...", he gasps, pressing his face against yours, "look what you...do to me"

Your knees almost buckle at his voice. You feel your wetness soak your panties at the way he struggles against you.

"Sy..."

He gasps at the nickname, and bites down on your neck. You let out a squeak at the sharp twang of pain and it soon turns to whimpers as he drifts his hands close to where you need them, pressing in.

He stops for a second before slipping his hand under your dress, running his palms against your cold thighs.

"Touch me...", you nearly wonder how you got so bold, but all you can think of is how much you need his touch.

"Really?", he says, toying with your underwear, "but I'm already doing that..."

"Please", you gasp.

Sylus groans at the sound of your plea, his hips press into your back harder, seeking friction. He slips his fingers into your underwear and you can hear his breath stutter. "You're so...turned on...for me"

"Yes", you gasp.

"Fuck", he growls, "I need you...Now, baby. Right now." The cool air hits your face as you think of his implication. The idea of taking him like this, on the balcony, sends a sharp wave of arousal through you. It's too risky, you think, but the way he's got his fingers against your wetness, touching but not moving, makes your head spin.

"Sylus...out...out here?", you manage to ask

"Yes, baby", he replies, slightly beginning to move his fingers in little circles. He kisses your shoulder. "Please", the sound of his voice, so needy, combined with the delicious pressure of his fingers, makes you crumble. You nod.

You hear the clink of a belt as Sylus makes quick work of his pants. Before you can miss his warmth, he lifts your dress to press up against you.

His hand slightly pushes your upper back, so that you're leaning over, just a little, as he positions himself.

Shifting your panties to the side, he presses in slowly and you can barely contain your moans as he fills you up. You clutch the cold metal railing and your glass of wine, which is still, somehow in your hand.

Behind you, Sylus grips your hips as he resists the urge to go feral. He begins rocking his hips, fucking into you slowly. You clench your fingers onto the cold railing as your hot pussy clenches around him.

"So good baby...", Sylus says, kissing your neck, setting a slow rhythm. He brings a hand around you to touch you and you nearly collapse at the pleasure surrounding you.

A few moments pass: Sylus is fucking into you slowly, rubbing your nub in slow, languid strokes. You feel the coil of pleasure in your stomach compress and curl till it almost hurts.

"Pl-please", you shudder and beg, "more"

"Too much?", he asks, his voice slightly concerned.

"Need to..."

He hums as he understands, pressing his chest against you as he speeds up his movements. You watch the red wine splash against the glass violently, a few drops escaping and disappearing down into the air as he fucks into you.

His fingertips hurry along your slick folds, and you feel yourself letting go. "That's right", he stutters, "come for me"

You feel the coil explode as your muscles clench repeatedly. Sylus fucks you through it, chasing his own pleasure before he stills, violently shuddering as he cums.

He buries his head in your neck as he catches his breath. The moment suddenly hits you as you watch the figure of a passerby on the street below.

"Sylus...", you speak, "what if...someone saw us?"

"Then I'll scoop their eyeballs out and you can have them", he replies.

You chuckle at his response.

This is the first time i've written smut, tell me how it was

#lads xavier #lads zayne #lads rafayel #lads sylus #love and deepspace #smut #lads smut #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #lnd zayne #lnd xavier #lnd rafayel #lnd sylus #it's been silver #silver writes

649 notes · View notes

rninies · 8 months ago

Text

✮ captivated hearts

౨ৎ aventurine x reader. fluff, gn!reader, mentions of alcohol — wc: 342

notes. AVENTURINE MY BELOVED BABY

aventurine is a lightweight drinker.

maybe you should have kept that in mind when you asked him to go out drinking with you. “are you drunk?” you asked aventurine as soon as you opened the front door (after struggling to keep him up with one hand and getting your keys from your back pocket).

“mmm. drunk on my feelings for you.” aventurine replied, a silly smile on his face as he pokes your cheek.

“…yep, you’re drunk,” you concluded, helping aventurine to sit on the bed. “i’ll go get you-” aventurine pulls you down on his lap, hugging you tightly. “what are you doing?”

“don’t leave,” aventurine pouts, resting his head on your shoulder, his eyes closed. “wanna cuddle.”

you laughed. “i’m not leaving, aven. i’m just going to grab a glass of water for your drunk ass.”

“whaaat? i’m not drunk, you’re drunk,” aventurine replies, hiding his face into the crook of your neck. “‘m not drunk.”

“really? you're slurring your words, your cheeks are red, and you’re talking nonsense. this isn’t drunk aventurine i’m talking to right now?” you asked, turning your body to cup aventurine's cheeks. “i’m pretty sure i’m talking to drunk aventurine.”

“nooo, this is just me loving you!” aventurine defends, opening his eyes a little. “...hi pretty.”

you blinked, cheeks turning slightly red at the sudden compliment. “hello, cutie. how may i help you today?”

“gimme kiss?” aventurine requested, puckering his lips. “come on, pretty please?”

you sighed, giving in to aventurine. you gave him a small peck on his lips. “there, happy? now can i get you that glass of water i promised?”

aventurine gave you a satisfied smile, nodding his head. “mm, sure,” his arms slowly loosened from your waist, allowing you to stand up. you gently helped aventurine to lay down on the bed, giving him a quick kiss on his forehead. “hurry back, please.”

you chuckled. “mhm, i’ll be right back.”

(well, by the time you came back to give him a drink, he was already fast asleep, cuddling a pillow).

#kylin.writes #aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #aventurine fluff #aventurine hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x y/n #honkai star rail aventurine #honkai star rail fluff #hsr #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr fluff #hsr aventurine

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fastandcarlos · 4 months ago

Text

Stuck With Me : ̗̀➛ Jack Doohan

summary: as jack signs his contract with alpine, you soon realise that actually you’re pretty happy to be stuck with him on the team for a little while longer

pairing: jack x f1academy!reader

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by olliebearman, pierregasly and 179,503 others

jackdoohan: always fun spending race weekend in the garage and learning, thank you as always alpine for having me, plenty learnt to take with me moving forwards 🏎️💙

27,052 comments

username1: I wish it was you we got to see in that car instead 😭

estebanocon: awesome to see you, good luck for the rest of the season ☺️

username2: buzzing to see you back in the garage again jack!!

liam.lawson: sweet talk them some more and you might just get a seat 😉

jackdoohan: @/liam.lawson saw right through me huh 😂

username3: wishing that alpine saw how talented you really are and signed you up 💔

ynusername: nice to see you, and maybe show you a thing or two too 😂

jackdoohan: @/ynusername I’m always learning from you 😊

username4: alpine are so damn lucky to have you 🥺

username5: not long until you’ll be behind the wheel jack 🤞🏻

pierregasly: thanks for all your help on the car this weekend!

username6: please make sure you’re at the rest of the races this year, you’re my favourite face on the screen

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by estebanocon, racerbia and 36,068 others

ynusername: another race, another win!! so proud to have got the win here in zandvoort and get plenty of momentum behind me moving forwards as we look to finish off the season strong 💪🏻🏆

4,947 comments

username7: you were amazing out there today 👏🏻

racerbia: can you save some race wins for the rest of us??? 😘

username8: so proud of you yn, controlled that race from start to finish!!

jackdoohan: who knew you were so talented 🤯

ynusername: @/jackdoohan my parents always believed in me thank you very much 😭

username9: formula 1 academy world title pending…⏳

pierregasly: good job out there, glad I got to watch you race again ☺️

username10: can’t believe I finally got to watch you race today, you were electric ⚡️

dorianepin: congrats yn, I’ll get ya next time 😂

username11: you never fail to make your fans so proud 🥺

olliebearman: that race was awesome, you gotta show me how you handled turn 2 like that for next year!!

ynusername: @/olliebearman gimme a time and date and I’m there 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by liam.lawson, oscarpiastri and 58,401 others

jackdoohan: a week off means getting plenty of recovery in and getting back of the waves. amazing to spend it with my favourite person too 🫶🏻

7,052 comments

username12: I’m sorry since when were you a taken man???

oscarpiastri: I’m just going to pretend that middle photo doesn’t exist 😭

username13: you can’t just throw something like this at us jack wtf!

arthur_leclerc: I thought I was the only lover in your life 😭

jackdoohan: @/arthur_leclerc you’re my one true love, this is just a fling bby

username14: you mean to say our fictional relationship can’t come true now 😭

liam.lawson: there’s a whole chapter we seem to have missed out here my friend…

jackdoohan: @/liam.lawson I’ll fill you in at the paddock 😘

username15: have I ever told you how much I hate soft launchers!?

danielricciardo: proud of ya kiddo ��😉

username16: I want to say congrats but inside my heart is breaking 💔

ynusername: that’s some pretty cool waves you’ve got yourself there 🏖️

jackdoohan: @/ynusername waves aren’t the only thing I’m riding this holiday 🙃

username17: not me more focused on how incredible that body looks in a swimsuit 😂

kimi.antonelli: are we just going to pretend that this middle photo doesn’t exist??

username18: as long as you’re happy jack, most of us fan girls are happy for you too 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, ynusername and 73,038 others

jackdoohan: such a proud day for me and my family to share that i have officially signed to drive with the alpine f1 team next year. thank you to my team, family and friends for constantly supporting me through the years 🏎️💙

16,968 comments

olliebearman: can’t wait to enter my rookie era with you 😘

jackdoohan: @/olliebearman wouldn’t have it any other way sweetie 😘

username19: there’s never been anyone more deserving of a contract than you!

pierregasly: can’t wait to drive alongside you next year - it’s gonna be awesome!!

username20: can’t wait to see you out on the grid next year 🤩

oscarpiastri: congratulations future formula 1 driver 🤝

username21: you and pierre are gonna be the dream team i can already tell 🤩

ynusername: congratulations ✨ can’t wait to have you officially as part of the team!

jackdoohan: @/ynusername guess you’re officially stuck with me now 😂

username22: can’t wait to be your biggest fan for all the races next year 🥹

username23: future world champion for sure!!!

danielricciardo: another aussie on the grid 🇦🇺🦘

username24: we’re all so proud of you jack, you’re gonna smash it 💪🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by dorianepin, jackdoohan and 23,950 others

ynusername: end of the season and new adventures on their way. looking forward to the next four weeks with my favourite human being 🥺

7,403 comments

username25: wait since when has this been a thing!? 🤯

racerbia: really out here living your best life ain’t ya? 👑

username26: have i woken up from sort of dream to see this 🤔

jackdoohan: what sorta boyfriend would take you out on a zip line like that? 🤔

ynusername: @/jackdoohan definitely one cooler than you 💆🏻‍♀️

jackdoohan: @/ynusername good job I’ve got my own girlfriend to explore with then 🥺

username27: so glad to see you enjoying your break so good yn 🥺

username28: what is it with drivers and teasing us about their partners 😭

landonorris: since you won the championship you’ve really gone for that aesthetic blog look eh!? 👏🏻

username29: as impressive as that last photo is, my eyes can’t look away from the middle 👀

hausmann.tina: idk what your secrets are but I need to know them asap 😂

username30: favourite human…who is this favourite human you speak of???

pierregasly: please do not break a bone on holiday or alpine will lose their minds 😁

username31: all I want is to know who the lucky guy is…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri and 22,859 others

ynusername: starting off the season strong with pierre, whenever you fancy showing your face around here @/jackdoohan that would be lovely 😂

4,859 comments

username32: not jack already being thrown under the bus by his fellow drivers 😂

olliebearman: nothing like impressing the bosses on the first day jack 🤦🏻‍♂️

username33: anyone else think jack and yn seem to be suspiciously close to each other 🤔

pierregasly: at least I can rely on you to be on time yn 😂

ynusername: @/pierregasly 🫡🫡🫡

username34: why do I get the feeling pierre and yn are gonna gang up on jack this year 😂

kimi.antonelli: you get used to his poor time keeping I promise you yn ⏳

username35: it really is pick on the rookie season rn!

jackdoohan: some of us wanted to take the time to make sure we look presentable rather than like we just rolled out of bed ☺️

ynusername: @/jackdoohan that’s a harsh thing to say about pierre 😂

username36: I am OBSESSED with the interactions between these two!!!

username37: you know when someone pretends to be mean to distract from something…I wonder 🤔

estebanocon: sure you’re not missing me yet???

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by olliebearman, kimi.antonelli and 59,301 others

ynusername: i guess i can’t keep him a secret forever 🥺💞

12,067 comments

username38: how did no one actually figure this out 🤦🏻‍♀️

olliebearman: at least I don’t need to ask you how your summer break was anymore…

pierregasly: everyone please pray for me having to work alongside these two 🙏🏻

username39: okay but it’s undeniable that these two look incredible together

jackdoohan: I loved being your little secret, but I love being your boyfriend to the whole world more 💕

username40: I thought they hated each other, turns out they love each other 😂

dorianepin: breathing through the pain of knowing you didn’t tell me about this 💔

ynusername: @/dorianepin I’m sorry just didn’t want to risk anything 🥹

liam.lawson: thank god I don’t don’t have to keep my mouth shut anymore 🤐

username41: they really managed to fool us all…

oscarpiastri: wow you two did not hang around did you 😂

username42: imagine having to be the poor head of pr at alpine right now 😬

danielricciardo: ik I joked that f1 was good for the ladies jack but this isn’t what I expected 😂

jackdoohan: @/danielricciardo what can I say, when you know, you know 💞

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 97,402 others

jackdoohan: an f1 contract wasn’t the only prize I managed to bag myself last season ❤️🌊

24,958 comments

username43: not jack coming at us with the cheesiest caption known to man 😂

arthur_leclerc: I don’t even recognise you anymore 😂

ynusername: turns out you signing for alpine was a pretty cool moment for both of us 🥺

username44: damn he really is a man in love!

username45: already obsessed with this duo and what they’re gonna do on the track this year

pierregasly: fyi there’s a clause in your contract that bans pda in the paddock (definitely didn’t just make this up!)

username46: we need a ship name asap 🛳️

landonorris: the real question though is which prize was better? 😉

jackdoohan: @/landonorris you don’t even need to ask 💕💕

username47: how did none of the grid manage to figure this out!?

username48: this is certainly one way to make sure everyone knows your name 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

657 notes · View notes

sexilene · 2 months ago

Text

jj x reader cockwarming!! ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ #03 (sorry bout the spelling mistakes!)

jj often takes you with him when he goes fishing, he basically does all the work and you sit there flipping through a magazine or sunbathing. and just like all the other times, watching your boyfriend’s veins form his arms stand out as he lifts buckets of fish and what not, looking all manly. and sure he’d smell a little salty and his hands a little fishy but you couldn't care less, all you could focus on was the throb of your clit and the need to have your tired boyfriend’s dick inside you asap.

at some point he dramatically stretches and leans back on into the car seat, a joint held tightly to his pursed lips. you both are seated in the front of a dingy little truck you found for him at some junk yard car place, you had surprised him with it for his birth last year and though it needed some work jj was still entirely greatful.

jj inhales, his eyes closed while you’re seated sinked on top of him, your fingers tangle in messy blonde hair, his cock pulsating warming inside you.

“jay? please put it out…im so tired and i really wanna cum!” you whine, rocking your hips slightly. you pout and lay your cheek down onto his shoulder as he continues to hold you down with his hand on your hip. you too had been like this for about 30 minutes now, just cock warming him and you had tried to fuck yourself on his cock, but nothing seemed to work to ease the need for him to just slam you down on his dick.

“baby, how could you be tired, you literally did nothing the whole time hmm?” he coos, before inhaling again and then blowing out smoke from his nose.

“keep tellin ya, if you wanna cum, you jus’ gotta wait till papa j s’ready…” he speaks with a soft growl, squeezing the flesh of your hip. you whine again to get your point across, rocking your hips again against his. the wet sounds of your cunt and the feeling of your clenching pussy finally made him give in and help you out,

“gimme a sec baby cakes, i’m almost done” slurs, finishing off the joint and stubbing it out in the ashtray in the cup holder. he grabs your face to make you look at him, the strong grip on your jaw probably is going to leave a mark from his rings. he blows the last of the smoke out of his nose again and then pulls your face in to give you the sloppiest kiss.

“really wanna get fucked, really bad…” you pine, all these smells overwhelming your senses. the earthy saltiness of your boyfriend, the smell of his joint and the smell of your wetness…

“imma take care of you now, kay?” he smiles before his other hand finds your other hip, lifting you up effortlessly and then slamming into you from underneath. “iv’e gotchyou babe, just take it.” the force of that singular thrust has your eyes closing shut and your nails to dig into the skin of his neck.

your boyfriends cock hitting deep into your soaking cunt at a bruising pace, up and down up and down, against your sweet spot over and over again.

“like a pretty little sex doll you know that?- cept your warm…” he jokes,

your head lolls into the little spot under his jaw, drooling on his shoulder, your eyes clenched shut as you whine,

“don’t be funny right now! im- oh! you’re being mean…” the tight coil in your belly starts to snap as he continues to slam you down on his dick sloppily, your clit rubbing against his skin giving you little shockwaves of pleasure.

“m’sorry- fuck! love you, you know that….” he grunts, fucking up into you as you start to feel the way his cock starts to throb sending you over the edge. you squeal into jj’s mouth in an attempt to kiss him while you creamed all over his cock. he just continues to groan and fuck up into you through your orgasm, and eventually his.

after coming down from both your highs, you continue to sit there impaled on his dick, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. you try and sit up and move back to the passenger seat but jj hold you down on him and shushes you.

“no no angel, you wanted to cum that bad? were gonna keep goin till you can’t take it,”

#sexilene's kinktober #SL kinktober 24 #lenepilar'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#boynextdoor!jj #sexilene.com #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank thoughts #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj x you #jj thoughts #jj obx #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x you

762 notes · View notes

madaqueue · 8 months ago

Text

Good Boy

pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

themes/content: sub boyfriend sukuna, soft dom reader. language, smut. bondage, handjob, light choking, praise, pet names (baby, sweetheart), mentions of degradation. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.5k

a/n: subby sukuna that's it send tweet

“Y’know I’m only doing this for you, right?” Sukuna huffs.

“I know,” you smile from behind him.

Leaning back, you admire your work: the pink rope tied around his wrists holds his arms in place behind his back, with matching ones stationing him on his knees, feet tucked beneath his thighs. His cock stands fully erect, a drop of precum beginning to form along his slit before you’ve even truly begun.

The sight of him makes your heart flutter. “You look so pretty, ‘Kuna,” you purr, sitting up to place a kiss on his cheek.

His skin is warm under your lips, flushing a slight red. “Aw, are you blushing?” you tease gently.

“No,” he scoffs, turning his head away from you. “Just get on with it already, woman.” “Gimme a second sweetheart, I gotta get you warmed up first,” you hum as your eyes cover his form.

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips at just how innocent your boyfriend looks. It’s funny, almost, the way his muscles poke through the knots, tattoos coursing over his rough skin that’s now covered in a dainty pink. Everything about him looks so sweet, so soft, so submissive.

Normally he was the dominant one, demanding power and control in every aspect of his life, and sex was no different. Of course he treated you with care, but sometimes he showed it by fucking you harshly, ravenously, leaving proof of his love across your body in the form of scratches and bruises, a physical manifestation of his unadulterated adoration for you.

In fact, these ropes had originally been bought after a night when the skin of your neck was covered in teeth marks and hickeys from an hour of him teasing you. When you felt him nip at your chest, you couldn’t help squirming in his grasp.

“If you don’t sit still I’m gonna have to tie you down,” he muttered, moving lower to place his mouth around your hardened nipple, sucking on it between his teeth.

Unfortunately his words had the opposite effect, making you writhe even more against his thigh from where he held you in his lap.

“Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he chuckled at your reaction. “Pathetic little sluts like you need to be tied up to behave.”

He bought them the next day.

But, in the mix of all the other toys and gadgets you two rotated through, they had been tossed to the back of the closet and forgotten, unused, until now.

The idea popped into your mind a few days ago while you were scrolling on your phone and a video suddenly caught your eye: in the middle of a bed was a man with his arms and legs bound as a woman moved around him. She treated him softly but firmly, her fingers trailing over his body. You felt your heart rate pick up at the sight, warmth beginning to pool in your stomach as you watched. Seeing the trust, the control, between them sparked something in you.

Unsurprisingly, Sukuna was completely opposed to the idea when you brought it up.

“I’m not some fucking piece of meat to be tied up and toyed with,” he grumbled from the couch.

“Oh, but when you wanted to do it with me it’s fine?” you questioned sarcastically.

Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, he rolled his eyes. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Please, ‘Kuna? Just once?” you begged, using the nickname you knew pulled at his heartstrings, the one that always made him give in to your desires.

After a moment of silence, he sighed. “Fine,” he conceded, “just once.”

Although he’d never admit it, the idea made his head spin, his cock beginning to strain at his pants just from hearing you say the words. After all, he’s not the type who does something just for the sake of pleasing others; when he agreed, you both implicitly knew there was a part of him that was curious, too.

As he’s perched on the bed in front of you, he finally gets to have his interest satiated.

Returning your mind to the present you settle in behind him, resting your head on his shoulder as your lips trail down his neck. The soft sensation of your breath tickles his skin, making him shiver despite the heat his body gives off.

Making your way down his arms, you trace the lines of his tattoos before following the pattern down his chest. Reaching his thighs, your thumbs draw gentle circles into his muscles.

“Are you gonna fuckin’ touch me or what?” he growls, moving his hips to try and coax you closer to his aching cock.

You hush him, lips still pressed into the space above his collarbone. “Patience, baby.”

He shuts his mouth momentarily at the nickname. Even though he would always deny it, some part of him cherishes the sweet things you call him, holding onto every ounce of praise or affirmation that leaves your lips.

The honeyed whispers, the airy complements, make his heart flutter and gaze soften. He relaxes slightly, dropping his shoulders through a displeased grunt.

Your palms travel his body, moving up his thighs before traveling to his back, trailing kisses along his spine. He shudders at the softness of your lips, the warmth of your hands, as you cover every inch of him, his skin left tingling wherever you touch.

Right now, the key to getting him into the right headspace is to be gentle, loving, the exact opposite of how Sukuna normally is.

Knowing how impatient he gets, you are languid and methodical as you trace the ropes between your fingers. When you reach the ones tied over his wrists, he shifts again, tugging against the restraints.

“Y’know I could break out of this if I wanted to.”

“I know,” you hum, “but you won’t. Because you’re gonna be good for me, right?”

He pauses - he doesn’t want to demean his own strength, but internally he battles the desire to agree with you. He needs you to know that he’s better than this, obviously, but there’s a part of him, buried deep down, that needs to make you happy.

“Good boys use their words,” you prod in his silence.

He takes in an uneven breath as he fights a losing mental battle.

“I’ll…I’ll be good,” he mutters, gaze shifting down to avoid letting you see how dizzy the words make him feel.

Smiling, you place another kiss to his cheek, the action sending sparks through his body.

Your fingertips continue covering the rest of his skin, one moving down his legs as the other runs up his stomach, following the grooves of his abs. When you reach the front of his neck your hand loosely wraps around it, applying a gentle pressure to either side of his carotid.

Before this you had never dared to choke him, and even though this could barely be classified as such, something about it drives him insane. He feels immediately lightheaded, despite knowing that you didn’t hold on for nearly long enough to physically have that effect.

No, it was something else.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” he spits, trying to cover the moan that threatens to escape his throat.

His words nearly get a rise out of you, but knowing that’s his intention, you calm your breathing before you respond.

“Watch your language, sweetheart,” you scold softly, “you wouldn’t want me to have to gag you, now would you?”

The idea makes his heart race in panic. Thinking about being gagged doesn’t worry him, he realizes - no, the dread in his stomach is there for a different reason. Is he afraid of disappointing you?

Letting out an unsteady sigh, he shakes his head no. “M’sorry,” he mumbles.

You hold back a grin at his words, your heart beginning to race in excitement. Sukuna has never, ever, said sorry for something like this before.

It was rare that he needed to apologize for things, both of you knowing and respecting each other’s limits well. However, on the few occasions when he did something like leaving hickeys in more visible places than you liked, he would just brush it off with a laugh. “You didn’t really expect me to hold back when your cunt is that good, did you?” he’d tease with a smack of your ass.

Hearing him now, you can tell something in him has switched.

“That’s my good boy,” you coo, placing another kiss to his neck.

Hearing the name, a sound shockingly close to a deep whimper leaves his lips.

Your touch is so light, your lips so soft, your words so sweet, he wants to just melt, giving everything into you. Something about being physically held in place like this makes him feel safe, dependent; despite the tight ropes against his skin the only thing he can feel is you.

His head is spinning, thoughts getting fuzzy as you trace over his body, your gentle touch igniting flames of desire beneath his skin.

As you continue drawing your fingertips along him, the teasing slowly becomes too much, his mind clouded with the need for more as you feed him soft praises. His hips buck off the bed, his cock straining against the ties as precum begins to roll down his length.

“Please just fucking touch me,” he groans, voice so low it’s nearly a whisper.

“Just one second, baby,” you purr, trying to keep him calm.

Sukuna has always been demanding, wanting things done his way exactly when he wants it. As such, you know you have to be careful, balancing his desires with your control, placating his needs with tenderness.

A smirk crosses your face as you think up a way to satisfy both.

Holding your hand out in front of his mouth, you open your palm. “Spit,” you softly command.

His eyes widen, barely even noticeably, as he processes your words. There is absolutely no fucking way he’s about to do this, and the fact that you would even consider making him is foolish. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of your request, but before he can, he’s leaning forward, body moving on its own as he parts his lips, allowing droplets of saliva to pool into your hand.

What the fuck happened to him?

Pleased at his compliance, you smile. “Good boy, Sukuna.”

Your words make him nearly shake in anticipation, his mind dazed as your hand finds its way to his cock. Using the mixture of spit and precum you stroke his length, thumb twirling his flushed tip.

Another guttural groan leaves his throat as his eyes flutter shut, leaning his head back against you. He should be embarrassed, ashamed of how absolutely pathetic he’s being, but all he can think about is how good your hand feels wrapped around him.

Grasping at any last shred of control, he weakly thrusts up into you, his movements limited by the restraints

Bringing your free hand over to his hips, you hold him in place. “Stay still for me, okay baby?” you hum.

Letting go of everything, he gives in. His motions still as you continue stroking him, his mouth hanging open as he takes in uneven breaths.

Normally when he’s fucking you his thoughts are hurried, almost frenzied, as he plans how he’s going to ravage you. He taunts you, making you beg, soaking in every sound you release as he drills into you.

But now, his mind is quiet. The only thing he can focus on is the sound of your voice, your words of praise echoing through his entire body, amplifying his desire to please you, his need to be good for you.

Continuing your motions, the wet sound of your hand sliding up and down him fills your bedroom, his cock twitching in your palm as you glide over his length. From the way his chest begins to heave with each breath you can tell he’s approaching his release, his eyes screwed tightly shut in pleasure.

“Are you close, ‘Kuna?” you ask, head still resting on his shoulder from where you sit behind him.

He nods, a soft “Mhm” vibrating in his throat.

“Remember what I said? Good boys use their words,” you remind him.

“I-I’m gonna-”

You cut him off. “Good boys also ask permission.”

His breath hitches for a moment. He never begs. Never. It was always you, asking him to let you finish one more time, or pleading with him to soften up as he overstimulates you. He loved the way you’d get all whiney for him, but it was something he viewed as inherently beneath him.

But right now, he doesn’t fucking care.

“Let me cum,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

“Say please.”

Fuck, is he really about to do this? Is he seriously this fucking pathetic?

“Please,” he whispers.

You can’t stop yourself from grinning, giddy at just how eager he’s become, how malleable he is under your touch.

“Go ahead, baby,” you murmur, pressing your lips against his neck.

Picking up your pace, your grip tightens ever so slightly around his cock as you reach his tip, a shiver racking his body as your other hand moves to gently massage his balls.

“Open your eyes for me, sweetheart,” you purr into his ear, breath hot against his skin. “I want you to see what a mess you’re about to make.”

Without a second of hesitation he complies, his gaze struggling to focus on his lap as he tilts his head down. His eyes are glassy, far away, as he moves, mouth still hanging open.

You both watch in awe as thick ropes shoot from his tip, coating his thighs in the sticky whiteness.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good f’me,” you coo, droplets of cum slowly pouring down his length as you coax him through his ecstasy.

He’s silent as he finishes, no words able to form in his head, too dizzy from pleasure to think. His blown pupils can only observe as your hand slows, lazily following your movements as you pull your cum-coated fingers to his mouth.

The moment he feels you on his lips he opens them further, allowing you to slide your digits in, too dazed in bliss to argue.

“There you go, doin’ s’good,” you murmur as he sucks himself off of them, his eyes fluttering closed.

Holding him against the warmth of your bare chest, his body begins to tremble as he comes down from his high, suddenly feeling the tightness of the restraints against his skin. Leaning up you pull your fingers from his mouth, gently placing a peck on his cheek as you get to work untying him

“You did so good, ‘Kuna,” you hum as you remove the ropes from his legs and wrists, kissing the indents left behind on his skin.

As soon as he’s free he wraps his arms around you, his body hot as he pulls you into his lap. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck, holding you still for a moment.

“You better not fucking tell anyone about this,” he mutters into you.

“Of course not,” you whisper, reaching a hand up to gently stroke the back of his hair. “Now, let me take care of my good boy and get you all cleaned up, okay?” you follow, peppering his face with kisses as he holds back a lazy grin.

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milkzoro · 5 months ago

Text

humping turned to fucking. who woulda guessed.

t. Law

- clit overstim* creampie* consensual*

\\ ୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ

he was in the perfect position; beneath you on the living room couch, and in between your thighs. you arched your back and grinded up and down, losing yourself in the feeling of almost catching your release against his clothed cock.

soft whimpers left your lips, taking your time with all of your rhythms and motions as you rode him.

he pulled you against him eagerly, probably leaving more than a few fingerprint-sized bruises across your skin. law cared nonetheless, just as long as he could get you close.

his hips tried to fuck into you, but the fabrics containing him prevented it. you could feel him grow restless and become annoyed at the fact that you were moving a little too slow for his liking.

“please— can i fuck you?” he blurted out. the long fingers you knew all too well tugged on your panties as their owner waited for you to answer. “i’m gunna cum if you don’t stop.”

his pleas were cute.

“wanna fuck you so bad, y/n.”

“can i?” …

his eyes turned dark as soon as you allowed him to have more. you slipped off your panties and so desperately needed him to stretch you out. the cold slick of his precum met with your warmth sending shivers across your skin.

he was buried inside you. gifting you lots of deep strokes with his forehead pressed against yours, panting pretty little things like,

… ‘you’re mine.’ … ‘fuck.’ … ‘all mine.’ …

repeatedly.

in the midst of it all, you took his hand in a soft grip and guided them around the tight seal of his cock stretching you out. your fingers remained on top of his, dragging them around slightly to collect the mix of your juices.

curiosity struck his face as he slowed down his rhythms a little, but your pretty expressions made him realize what he was lacking.

you led his fingers to where you needed them the most and your breath shuddered, “i wanna feel it here, law.” your fingers lifted off his, leaving them delicately around your aching little bud.

he mimicked your actions, still hitting you deep but now with the added stimulation to you clit. you couldn’t help but expose yourself more for him.

“law! r-right there…”

you lifted your hips up slightly off the couch for a better angle and immediately you were getting washed with your orgasm. “i’m gonna cum!!! c-CUMMING!!♡”

“shit. me too baby. gimme one more, okay?” he quickly cut you off, groaning and whining feeling the insides of your cunt. his fingers wouldn’t leave your clit as he continued to fuck you into the cushions.

“lawwww-” you cried, feeling too blissed out from all the excess attention he was giving your pussy. a second wave of pleasure was quickly building inside of you. the once cold room was now hot, sticky, and littered with your filthy sounds.

“god, you’ve got such a perfect pussy baby. i’m gonna fill you, okay? cum for me y/n, again.” he demanded.

you couldn’t keep your eyes open and your legs trembled under him, but only a small nod and incoherent nonsense was all that you could give to let him know you would do as he said.

“that’s it, fuckkkkk fuck…..”

as you let go, you kept him has close as you could. immersing yourself in his strong grip and musky sent. simultaneously, you felt his cock spurt inside of you, flooding you with warm sperm.

a kiss to your cheek and forehead came quickly after. followed by an, “i love you.” and many cuddles back on the couch.

—��

*lowkey unfinished but hey i made it to wano 🙏🏻

#trafalgar law #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece smut #trafalgar law one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #law smut #law x reader #trafalgar law smut

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insaneprincess · 2 years ago

Text

toji letting his lil bunny gf ride him<3

🐾 praising, ass smacking, chocking, cowgirl, titty slapping, creampie, thick/chubby reader, not proofread

“fuck- jus’ like that princess” you whined raising your hips to slam them back down on toji lap. your ass continued to slap on his thighs and the previous mixed cum of yours and toji sticking in your inner thighs. you moaned at how he slapped your breast through the sheer lace fabric. you tried so hard to not close your eyes watching the grin toji had on his face before lifting his hips to meet your thrust. “ da-daddy oh my-” you cried out feeling your thighs shake and legs giving out. you leaned forward to have you lips against toji- tongues down each other throat while listening to the flithy sounds of skin slapping against one another. you buried your face in toji’s neck “shit- daddy ‘m gonna- gonna cum” and that made him go fast. the bed creaking under him once grabbed your hips, slamming you down on his cock- panting and grunting at the white nectar on his long grithy cock. he moved your pink panties to the side of your fat ass that blocked his cock from thrusting into you. a yelp at the big hand that slap your ass two times “you fuckin’ like that don’ you. my pretty lil bunny hm?”. he felt you squirm which made him lift your face up from his neck. you began to babble and cry out incoherent words letting toji know you’re about to cum. “ tell daddy what you want baby, c’mon be a good girl” he played with you swollen clit, helping you cum. acrylics straggling his sculptured back from how his cock hit your cervix. he rose up from the soft pillow beneath him while a hand went to your throat making him repeat what he said after not gaining an answer. “daddy i wanna cum please-please let me cum ima good girl” you could feel that your near- so close. “you want daddy to fill you up- gonna make you a mama. gonna look so cute and full yeah?” “ yes yes yes please gimme it daddy” you chanted totally obvious that your brain was no longer working and you were going stupid. when toji continued to slam in your fucked out pussy your back arched feeling his thick heavy load fill you up. could’ve sworn your little pudge looked full. you weren’t far behind- milk toji’s cock completely. “ fuck look at you ma” he chuckled while taking his phone out taking pictures of his artwork not forgetting to add it to his personal album.

#toji fushiguro #toji scenarios #toji smut #toji imagine #toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji fic #toji x black reader #fushiguro toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro

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moremaybank · 6 months ago

Note

dad jj being so respectful about his baby’s space. he’ll be like “can dada have a kiss” and puckers his lips and his baby in their cutie little voice like “no dada” and he’s like “that’s okay baby” but knows in like five minutes the baby will run to him asking for a kiss or hug

oh, dad!jj, please gimme all your babies

when jj comes home from work, muscles exhausted and covered in grease, the greatest gift is knowing that your family will smother him with all the love you have.

"daddy's home, my babies!" he calls, his voice echoing throughout your home.

your kids come running down the stairs, each hugging his legs before running off to play again. your eldest daughter sticks around, though, having missed her father just a smidge more than the others.

he scoops her up, looking down at her with a smile. "hi, princess. how was your day?"

your daughter's hands frame her father's face. "it was good, dada. mama made us waffles for breakfast, and we made ice cream sundaes after lunch! with sprinkles!"

"yeah? that sounds amazin'. think you could help me make one after dinner?"

"yeah!"

you come down the stairs next, beaming at your gorgeous husband.

"hey, pretty mama. thanks for takin' such good care of our kids."

you grin even wider, approaching your husband so you could kiss him. you hum into it when your lips touch, and he smiles.

"how was work?" you question, one of your hands threading through his blonde locks. "y'look tired."

jj shakes his head, "'m good now. jus' needed to see my babies." his head turns toward your daughter again. "you feel like giving daddy a kiss?"

"c’i have a kiss in five minutes, daddy?"

he nods in understanding, "‘course y’can, sweet thing. my princess gets kisses whenever she wants." he sets her down, watching as she runs over to her siblings. then, he opens his arms for you, and you nestle yourself between them more than willingly.

"you're so good with them," you tell him. "makes me wanna give you another baby."

he smirks, pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck. "you call the shots, mama."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years ago

Note

hello my dear!! 🫶🏼

🌸🌸🌸

eddie with smut prompts 10 & 1 pls 🥵

hello my love!!!!

I apologize in advance for this (well, kinda but not really…)

patience (or a lack thereof) - eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: the horny really jumped out on this one. drug use, cockwarming, unprotected p-in-v, fingering, dirty talk, soft dom!eddie vibes (I think)

The problem here, is that weed makes you horny.

Like…really horny.

Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. Friday nights at Eddie’s place have a pretty repetitive flavour, and it’s one you now crave. You’ve been seeing each other nearly six months now, and your friends have all given you shit for it, but you don’t care. Fridays are for Eddie.

More specifically, Fridays are for getting stoned in Eddie’s bedroom and cumming so many times you lose count.

By now, you’d usually be between his sheets already, two or three rounds down, a quick breather in between. But tonight, something’s thrown a wrench in your usual plans. Really, it’s your own fault — you’d shown up unannounced at Eddie’s place Wednesday night, the night he usually reserved for D&D planning. Wayne had taken an extra overnight shift, leaving the place to the two of you, and well, you made the most of it.

But with Wednesday night planning out the window, Eddie has a Saturday session and nothing prepared, which you know is not a good thing.

But weed makes you horny.

You’re sprawled out on his bed, your pants long discarded, wearing only one of Eddie’s Hellfire shirts, flipping through one of his music magazines. You’ve tried reading the book you keep in your bag, tried distracting yourself by changing the records on the player, you even tried taking a quick cat nap. Nothing has worked. The ache between your legs is ridiculous.

He’s been at it a couple hours now, and you know he takes his time when it comes to D&D. He’s meticulous with his planning, thinking out every possible outcome and coming up with a contingency for each, even having a few throwaway plans just in case his players come up with something completely outrageous. You don’t mind it at all; it’s quite the opposite actually. His passion is…sexy, in a nerdy kind of way. It just adds to his charm.

And right now, it’s not helping matters. He’s perched in his desk chair, flipping through the Dungeon Master’s Guide, a pencil between his teeth. He’s wearing an old Hawkins High Phys Ed t-shirt, sweat shorts, and his hair's a mess. Unable to stop yourself, you roll off the mattress and onto your feet, crossing the room and standing behind his chair. He makes a little noise as you gather his hair in your hand, sweeping it over his shoulder so you can fit your face in the curve of his neck.

“Eds.”

“I know, baby,” he replies, the words muffled by the pencil between his teeth. “I’m almost done, I swear. Gimme like five minutes, and then I’m all yours, yeah?”

You whine, closing your lips around his pulse. You left a nice hickey there the other night, and your cloudy mind yells at you to make it bloom against his pale skin even brighter this time. Your arms hang over his shoulders, pressing your palms against his stomach, humming into his neck.

“Eddie, please?”

Your hands move lower, one glancing across the crotch of his shorts. The pencil falls out of his mouth. “Sweetheart,” he sing-songs, a halfhearted warning. But you do it again, fixated on the way his cock twitches to attention, even with just the lightest of touches. You let your teeth graze his throat, nipping at the same spot until the bruise starts to reform. Eddie tilts his head back, a low rumble moving through his chest, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When they open again, his pupils are blown, and he lifts his hand, burying his fingers in your hair. “Someone’s needy tonight.”

“You know that weed makes me ho—”

“Weed makes your horny, I know, baby,” he finishes, dragging his nail lightly against your scalp. “I’m almost finished, I promise. Come here.”

He turns in the chair, swinging around until you’re standing between his legs. Eddie drags his hands up your thighs, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver. He’s fully hard now, shorts tented, and he hooks one thumb in the waist of your underwear, pulling it down slightly. It makes you throb.

“You can sit on my lap till I’m finished,” he says, squeezing your hips. “That make you feel better?”

Your eyes widen slightly, feeling yourself melt into his touch. “You mean…?”

“Come here,” he says again, his tone more assertive this time. He pulls your underwear down further, lifting the hem of your shirt at the same time, and swoops in, pressing a sloppy kiss to your hip. Your underwear drops to the floor and you kick the fabric away. Everything in you goes tight as he hooks his fingers in the waist of his shorts, pulling them off and settling back in his chair. The sight of his cock curving towards his belly makes your mouth fill with saliva. “You need something else first?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. “Need me to open you up a bit, pretty girl?”

He pulls you closer, one hand back on your hip, and the other slides between your knees, moving up to the inside of your thighs. He moans when he feels out wet you are, dragging his fingers through it, pushing them past his lips a second later as he pulls your body even closer. You move quickly, lifting your legs and planting your knees on the seat either side of his hips.

Eddie grins as you lower yourself slowly, reaching around to take himself in hand, guiding his cock into your nearly dripping pussy. The feeling is overwhelming, to say the least, and you bury your face in his neck again as you sink down, your breathing coming faster as he fills you up.

Fully seated, your first instinct is to move, rolling your hips into his, but Eddie grips your waist tightly, clucks his tongue at you. “Ah, ah, ah, not yet, sweetheart. Let me finish first, and then I’ll take care of you, alright?”

When you don’t answer right away, he lifts his hips slightly, the tip of his cock nudging at that delicious nerve inside you. “Shit.”

“Gimme five minutes, baby,” he says again. He takes your hands, draping your arms around his neck. A soft kiss is pressed to your mouth, and you have to stop yourself from chasing it, taking what he gives. “Just five minutes.”

It’s fucking torture. Five minutes feels like five hours. Every tiny movement makes the pleasure spark, but it’s just shy of not enough, leaving you wanting more and more and more. If it’s driving Eddie just as crazy, he doesn’t let it show, giving you a broad grin when you settle deeper into his lap, resting your forehead against the dip of his shoulder.

Finally — fucking finally — he flips his notebook closed, tosses his pen aside, and puts his hands on you. He grabs your hips again, guiding you along him, and the sudden movement sets your whole body alight. You toss your head back, your mouth dropping open as he lifts you up, pulls you back down. He fills you so perfectly, leaning in to suck a mark at your collar.

“There she is,” he murmurs, dragging the tip of his nose along the underside of your jaw. “C’mon, my needy girl, tell me how bad you want it.”

Eddie slides his hands under the hem of your shirt, fingers tapping along your rib cage. Your fingers chase his, reaching for the edge of the fabric, pulling it up and over your head. You toss it away, and Eddie groans, instantly lowering his head, scraping his teeth along your tits, your nipples pebbling at his attention. Your hips roll, dragging yourself along his cock, the pleasure making your eyes roll back.

“Look at you,” he moans, sucking a bruise beside your nipple, his other hand coming up to toy with the other. “You just need to be fucked so bad, don’t you?”

“Eds, please,” you manage to mumble out, a whine trapped high in your throat. You can feel how wet you are, the slick glide of your thighs against his. He grins, pulling his face from your chest, tilting his head back so his nose pokes yours.

“Almost there,” he says, his voice goading. “Use your words. Tell me.”

“Eddie—”

“Tell me specifically,” he mutters, pinching your chin in one hand, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip, “how bad you want it.”

You start babbling. His request opens the floodgates. Your words are in time to the movement of your hips, and Eddie is grinning like the devil he is. Please, Eddie, I want it so bad, I want you so bad, fuck me please, I want it hard, want it fast, wanna feel you tomorrow. Please, please, please, please, please.

He gives you what you want.

You squeal when he scoops his hands under your thighs, lifting you as he moves out of the chair, keeping himself buried inside you. He aims for the bed, you think, but gets thrown off course, and instead you end up sprawled on the floor of his room. He hikes your legs over his hips, grabs your waist and pulls you down onto him with every thrust.

Back arching against the floor, you’re climbing higher and higher, and the weed buzzing in your veins only makes it that much more thrilling. You’re probably going to have carpet burn on your ass, but you don’t fucking care.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Eddie coos, and when your thigh starts to shake, he drops a hand between your legs, tracing his fingers over where he’s disappearing inside you before drawing a perfect circle around your clit. “Give it to me.”

You nearly shout his name as you cum, and Eddie rides you through it, his own orgasm not far behind. He pulls out at the last second, cums hot against your stomach, and flops down on the floor beside you. His hand lingers, tracing the curve of your tits, making them peak harder just for him. You curl your hand around the back of his neck, keeping him close while you catch your breath.

“You alright, baby?” he asks, dropping his jaw to kiss your shoulder, still petting his hand across your chest. “You want a pillow or something?”

You shake your head no. “Just…don’t move yet.”

Eddie chuckles, teeth nipping at your skin. “Okay, baby.”

Your body is caught between begging for more and tapping out for the night, but you think you know where the scales are about to tip. Especially if he keeps touching you like that. Your mind whirls, eyes fluttering open so you can look at him.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmur.

Eddie hums the affirmative, sitting up slightly to pull his shirt over his head. He uses it to clean his cum from your stomach and leans over you slightly, mouthing at your tits again. “Anything, baby.”

“Why didn’t you ever make a move on me before,” you ask, “when we were in high school?”

He tilts his head, lifting one brow with his lips still latched to your skin. “Why do you ask?”

“Just realizing how much mind-blowing sex I missed out on,” you reply.

Eddie chuckles. “I wanted to make a move. I really wanted to, trust me. But you had a thing for jocks back then, if I remember correctly.” He bites at you again, softly, dropping his chin to your chest. You can feel his hand roaming lower, glancing over your knees and thighs. Your legs part slightly, letting him in again, your blood spiking when his fingers trace the inside of your thigh. “It sucked, honestly. You have no idea how much I hated seeing someone else touch you, when I wanted it to be me.”

The tips of his fingers prod at you, curling just slightly. “But now you can,” you tell him, your voice turning breathy again, back arching as he pushes his fingers deeper, scrapes his teeth against your nipple.

“Now I can,” he agrees, “and I’m never gonna stop.”

#my fics #eddie munson #patience (or a lack thereof)#eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #sleepover sundae

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stove-top96 · 16 days ago

Text

Water Colour Eyes

Chapter 2

Y Batfam x GN Reader

Featuring: Platonic Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (mostly Jason)

1.8K words

I’m not the biggest fan of this chapter, I tried something new when writing it and it didn’t mix well. Chapter 3 will be a lot better. Any and all advice will be appreciated. Comment if you wanna be added to the Taglist (I hope I did it right)

You’re the first one to get cut, although you were scheduled to work the close Albertine wanted you out of there as soon as possible. Honestly you were thankful, if you stayed there any longer you’d probably break. Roa called in sick, so you were stuck fending for yourself once the Waynes left. You messed up 3 ticket orders, because of Albertine’s new no notepad policy, so you were ridiculed by the kitchen staff for being incompetent. The last 4 hours were brutal, you can’t stop thinking about how hard it is to work there. It’s so isolating, and the staff make you feel so stupid. You just can’t take it anymore, you’ve never been made to feel so incompetent and insecure anywhere else. You feel so pathetic for putting up with it, but where else can you make so much money? Being a freshman in college means your options are pretty limited.

Grabbing your coat and bag you prepare to head down to the subway station. It’s already dark out, but going home at 9:45 is a lot safer than the original 12:00. Getting home early means you’ll have more time to yourself, and you won't be bothered since your mom and her boyfriend haven’t been home for a few days. It’s the little joys in life that matter.

As you make it to the station it’s a little more crowded than usual. Something you're thankful for, there’s safety in numbers even if they’re strangers. Riding the train to your stop, even though you’re able to have the evening to yourself, thoughts of doubt still race in the back of your mind. The walk home from the station is always rough, but you get through it everytime. your lips tremble, hands shake, and eyes water, you just can’t seem to forget all the mistakes you’ve made. Even so you push it all down. You're only 15 minutes away from your apartment, so you can make it home and cry a little while you're taking a shower or something. Just make it home. Just make it home. It’s the only thing repeating in your mind, the only thing keeping you moving.

Wandering like a ghost through the streets, your thoughts distract you from everything. Just make It home. You had only two more blocks to go. Wiping the few tears that spilled down. Just make it home. You're gonna have the place to yourself, you can have a nice long shower without your step dad getting mad at you. Just make it home. You don't work another shift until Tuesday, so you won’t see them for a while. As long as you just make it home.

“Give me your money”

“What” you’re snapped back to reality as you're confronted by some junkie in the alley. “I said gimme your money” he took a few steps closer, as you inched backwards “I- I don't have any on me right now” you stuttered, hoping your answer might satisfy him. Judging from his face it didn’t. God what were you supposed to do. This man looks like he’s got at least 100 pounds on you, not that you could fight him even if you wanted. “I’m sure ya do, if ya just hand it over no one gets hurt”. He’s cornered you, you have nowhere to run now. Your heart begins to race, hands start to tremble and the tears that threatened to spill earlier are pouring down your face. This is it. you have no money on you, this man will likely beat you to death. you do the only thing you can do “HELP! Someone please!”. This pisses him off as he grabs your wrist, your heart stops as you see him raise a hand to punch. This is it.

+++++

Jason was on his usual route, he had about 2 hours to kill before he got to see you. Being the one to make sure you were safe was something he took pride in, and walking home with you was different. You were always at your most vulnerable after work, protecting you while you’re in such a fragile state brings a sense of warmth about him. You make him feel like a good person, a good brother.

The restaurant is only about 3 blocks down from his patrol route for the night, maybe he can just take a quick look, to make sure you're okay. Bruce did say something about you having a rough night or something like that, he wasn’t paying too much attention all he could think of was how he could make your manager pay without pissing Bruce off. As he nears the restaurant he’s thankful he showed up, since you're already on your way to the subway. Following you the rest of the way, it’s clear you did have a rough day. Fists clenching and grinding his teeth, his blood boils. You don't deserve any of this, you deserve nothing less than the best. Bruce’s fucked up plan to drive into despair only to pick you up is one he never agreed with. They should just save you now so nothing bad can happen on the off chance they aren’t around. Then at least you’d be protected and with them. It doesn’t matter if you fight at first cause in time you’d understand. But the family just can’t see his side, and you’re suffering because of it.

He’s never felt so useless before. He sees your pain, and wants nothing more than to lift you into his arms and set you free from all your troubles. But he can't yet, right now he’s Redhood, but soon he’ll be your brother. Only then will he be able to ease your pain, but he knows even after your wounds heal there’ll still be scares, he has them too. One day you’ll both understand each other, you share experiences that no one else in the family has. He’ll help in the way no one helped him.

As he nears the alley, he sees the man grab your wrist harshly and swing his other arm. Before the thug’s fist comes in contact with your face, he shoots, aiming for the fist about to punch you. The rubber bullet cracks and breaks the thugs hand, letting go of your wrist to writhe in pain. Within seconds redhood arrives at the scene accessing the damage. “Are you alright?” he asks, voice deep and robotic from his mask. Mind racing a thousand thoughts a second you barely comprehend what’s happening. “What..” you mutter quietly, voice cracking from the tears you shed minutes ago. “Are you alright?” He asks again, hand resting on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “ I- I don’t know” you mumble to yourself as you begin to zone out into your own world. The stress of school, your mom, her boyfriend and especially work, maybe you aren’t okay? Maybe you just can’t push through anymore? You don't know anything anymore. Quickly snapping back into reality “No I'm fine, don't worry, just a little shaken, I’m normally more careful than that.” You stumble through your words, you hope it’s convincing enough, even if you look like a mess and are a little stressed out Red Hood probably saves hundreds of people in a night you can’t keep him waiting any longer. “Thank you,..” you want to say more but he probably has to head back. Gathering your things from your bag you begin the rest of the 15 minute walk back to your apartment, staying more vigilant than ever but still unaware of the masked hero following you home.

Jason’s mind never felt so separated from his body, all he wanted to do was beat the shit out of that scumbag who dared lay a hand on you. But his feelings were irrelevant, you were the only one that mattered right now. The shadows of the alley couldn’t hide your expression. you looked white as a ghost, eyes puffy and wide, your hands trembled slightly as you picked up your things. It didn’t take a genius to see how distressed you are. He wanted to do anything, say something as you walked away, but he couldn't, his body wouldn’t do anything. So he watched his little sibling walk away when they needed him most, never feeling more pathetic. Only after a few minutes of standing did he gain control, running after you to ensure you got home safely, it’s the least he could do for being a horrible brother back there.

+++++

“I believe it would be best to fire that manager” Damian's voice echoes through the Batcave as he prepares for patrol with his father. “Like I’ve told Dick, it's under consideration” Bruce’s response is curt, he understands the boy’s frustrations but in order to reach their end goal they must be patient with everything. Tim rolls his eyes, he understands why but with their current pace they’ll never grow past the current server customer relationship they have. “Have you at least considered our side of things, we can’t let people treat them like that. They’re running herself thin, they could barely smile at us tonight” Tim’s frustration is evident in his voice, why is Bruce not doing anything he understands the plan, even agrees with it but Albertine crosses a line. Bruce goes to speak but is interrupted by a call from Jason. “Yes” he goes silent as the voice on the other line speaks, his face giving nothing away. “Do you have a name?” He asks, the boys are curious. Is tonight gonna turn into something more than a simple patrol? Did a villain plan something big? “Thank you” as he hangs up, his face still doesn’t give any indication as to what was being discussed. “They were attacked” his voice monotone, but the slight furrow in his brow was a clear indicator for the rage brewing inside him. The two boys freeze, as their blood runs cold, and they seethe with rage. Someone tried to hurt their sister?

“What!? Was Todd not supposed to be watching them?” Damion did nothing to hide his rage, mind racing with different possibilities on how he could hurt his brother for his negligence. “He did, and they weren’t hurt. They got sent home early, be thankful Jason stopped by as they were leaving.” Bruce’s voice was firm, but he was lost in his own thoughts and schemes on how they can better insure your protection without interfering with their progress. “Does he have a name?” Tim asked, visibly more relaxed after knowing you were uninjured. “Greg Capullo” Bruce’s answer was short but the tone gave direct instructions. Go after him, he will turn a blind eye to whatever it is they do. Damian, wasting no time leaves the cave preparing to do his worst, while Tim heads towards the bat-computer preparing to make this man’s life miserable. Tonight was a night the criminals of Gotham would remember, as the Bats were far more brutal in every aspect than they have ever been before.

Taglist: @lilyalone @pix-stuff @caged-birdies-blog @toast-on-dandelioms

#batfam x reader #platonic batfam #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #gn reader #yandere dc x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake

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shouyuus · 2 months ago

Text

chapter three: sleep of the living, dreams of the dead

roronoa zoro, 4,958 words; fluff and angst, enemies to lovers, relationship progress being made, emotionally constipated!zoro, slow burn, captain!luffy being captain, decent amount of banter, slow healing, strawhat!reader, tru hurt/comfort, no "y/n", domestic fluff

summary: in which zoro helps you make sakura-mochi and you keep good on your promise

a/n: we are indeed getting somewhere in their relationship!!! we get some fluffy moments of respite in this chapter <3 i hope you all enjoy!

< to the table of contents

That night, swinging in his hammock, he tries to picture it, as he’d so often done in the past — wondering about you, picturing you. Before seeing you again, he’d tried to imagine what you might look like, based solely on his memory. He spares a moment now to wonder, staring up at the moon-slatted ceilings of his small room — why? Why you?

You weren’t the only person in that sleepy little town, and you definitely weren’t close enough for him to call you a friend. But then again, he reflects bitterly, the only person he’d considered a friend from then is dead.

So suppose you are the next best thing. Suppose it’s just the nebulous workings of the human mind, of the brush-stroke memories he’d attached to the shape of you simply because you were there. And you were different.

Different from all the other boys and girls at the doujou. Different from him and Kuina too.

And there, something clunks inside his chest, blunt and oppressive, the same way it had when he’d run into that Tashigi girl in Loguetown. So maybe that’s it — maybe he’d held onto the memory of you because it was one of the last solid things that tied him to Kuina. You and the Wadou Ichimonji. But as much as other swordsmen might wax poetic about how a blade is a living thing, he can’t reminisce with a sword, can’t share a drink over those silver-lining days and star-spangled nights.

Sometimes if he closes his eyes, he can still hear it, the sound clear as if it were echoing into his room from the decks above — you and Kuina laughing, your heads bent over the basket of sweets, eyes glittering as you picked all the prettiest ones.

It was the only time he’d ever seen Kuina smile the way she did. The only time he’d seen you look so pleased.

The dull clatter in his chest sharpens to a throbbing ache, as flesh would around a fresh knife wound. He flips over onto his side and sighs.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

The memory comes to him, clear and sharp as fresh-cut glass. The autumn sun paints thick streaks across the doujou floors, and afternoon practice has just ended. You’re sitting by the door, your hands folded neatly in your lap, your hair twisted back in a simple braid that fell over your right shoulder, tied off with a dark red bow. Anyone could see the care that was taken with it — the love inherent in the simple detail.

Zoro makes a show of stretching his arms over his head, yawning as the other boys all scramble towards you, Shimotsuki-sensei tutting as he watches, an indulgent grin on his lips.

“Gimme the blue one!”

“No I want the blue one!”

“Fine then gimme the yellow one!”

“I want the one that’s three layers!”

“That one is the prettiest —”

“As if you know what pretty means.”

“Yeah, well real men don’t like pretty things.”

Zoro scoffs, turning his head resolutely away. But a while later, you patter over with your basket, dropping down in front of him.

“There’s still the sakura one left, if you’d like.”

Zoro frowns, “A — a real swordsman knows the meaning of abstinence.”

You giggle, reaching into your basket to pull out a plain-looking mochi, pale pink and powdered in sugar. Zoro can tell from the dark red bleeding through the translucent skin that there’s an azuki filling — his favorite.

He gulps.

“Well, how can you know abstinence… if you don’t know indulgence first?”

Zoro chews on his lips for a second before making a show of rolling his eyes and plucking the mochi from your hand. He bites into it and swallows passed a delighted shiver. It’s delicious — the azuki sweet and creamy, the cherry-blossom skin perfectly chewy. It sticks to his teeth in the best way and he has to fight down a bright blush threatening his cheeks.

“Th-thanks.”

You smile, clearly pleased.

“Those are my favorite too,” you say, folding a white cloth over the mouth of the basket before pushing it aside — precise movements, not a moment wasted.

Zoro thinks, brashly, that you would’ve been a great swordswoman. Kuina’s always talking about how he’s wasting his movements by swinging wide or cutting too deep.

“Did… did you make them yourself?” he asks, scratching at his cheek, chancing you a single glance. You’re watching him with wide, dark eyes, clear and entrancing. He swallows, his mouth feeling suddenly very, very dry.

“Not all of them,” you look down at your hands, and he sighs with relief. It’s strange, holding your gaze like that — he’d always fancied that you could see more than you let on.

“Just the plain ones — I’m not good enough yet to make the more complicated ones,” you explain, toying with the tips of your fingers. Your nails are short and perfectly filed. There are bits of white stuck under them. Zoro wonders whether it’s sugar or flour or maybe a mix of both.

You look back at him with a crooked grin.

“But just between you and me —” you lean in, your eyes glittering, your voice conspiratorial, “the plain ones are always the best.

— — —

Zoro jerks awake to the sound of laughter, and grumbling, he twists himself out of the hammock, squinting in the morning light. Somehow, he’d slept clear passed dawn, and he curses himself for missing out on his morning katas.

Rounding his door, he follows the sound of voices till he comes into the kitchen, only to find you and Sanji, laughing, standing too close, the air around you a snowfall of powdered sugar. The slanting rays of the rising sun casts the entire scene in a sparkling, ambered glow, as if encasing the moment in honey.

Like this, the pale of sugar falling from your fingers looks like dust-motes caught in the liquid light.

“Zoro! You’re awake!” and there, the laughter in your voice, running undercurrent to the way you say his name. It’s been so long since he’d heard his name said like something more than just a name —

He purses his lips and scowls. An ugly, nameless thing rears its head inside Zoro’s chest.

“Yeah well — couldn’t really sleep last night.”

And he knows it’s unfair to be taking this out on you; he sees it in the flicker of emotions that passes by your face — hurt, confusion, hesitation, regret.

“Zoro —”

“Whatever. Just tell me when breakfast is ready.” He spins around and slinks out of the room, his chest twisting tight as a hangman’s noose, his heart a riot of irregular beats, slamming against his ribs.

“Zoro —!”

He makes it all the way up onto the main deck, his fingers digging into the hilt of his swords, heat pluming up and up and up till he swirls around to pin you with an icy stare.

“What?”

You shrink back, your brows furrowing, and for a second, he almost feels bad, feels like the naive boy he used to be, so desperate to prove himself to Kuina, and to you.

“I — we were just —” you look away, your eyes cutting across the flat deck of the ship towards the trap door that leads to the rooms below.

Zoro lets out a hollow laugh, backing away, his footsteps falling heavy, “No, it’s fine. You don’t have to explain. We don’t owe each other anything.”

Your gaze swings towards him, eyes wide and lips trembling.

Zoro notes with a savage satisfaction that your gaze is kaleidoscoped in unshed tears.

“No! That’s not — I’m —” your breath catches over your words, time and time again and Zoro allows himself a cruel grin, watching you struggle.

“You’re what?” he asks, unable to keep the poison from his voice.

“I’m sorry!”

Zoro nearly snarls as he rounds on you, a few quick steps carrying him into your personal space; you back away, scrambling back till your back thumps against the main mast.

“Sorry?” he repeats, his voice dangerous and low, “yeah… sure. Whatever.” He jerks back, shaking his head.

You narrow your eyes, “Don’t.”

Zoro’s lip curls, “Don’t?”

“Don’t walk away,” you say, swiping a hand across your mouth, licking your lips as you push yourself off the mast to face him.

“Oh, yeah? What else am I supposed to do, huh?” Zoro asks, casting his eyes up towards the endlessly blue sky. He feels anger bursting inside him like summertime sparklers, the fuses short, the explosions bright and unrelenting.

“Just… let me explain —”

“Explain? Explain what? How you nearly killed me twice? How you threatened me with my life? How you let me believe that you were dead for —” he throws his hands up, turning away from you, shaking his head, “for almost two months?”

“I had no choice!” you shout, your fists balled at your sides, “you really think Baroque Works — Crocodile would’ve let me send you a — a message?”

Zoro scoffs, “Well you could’a done something. Anything.”

You deflate, your fists loosening. You lean back against the mast, looking anywhere but at Zoro’s face.

“I didn’t mean to… to make you worry.”

Zoro lets out a hollow laugh.

“I wasn’t worried.”

Even without looking, he feels you wince at his words. He takes three steps towards you, and jerks your face up with two fingers and hisses into your face.

“I was mourning the death of a friend.”

Your breath hitches — he sees it in the way your pupils constrict, in the way your expression falls slack.

“If I — but I couldn’t — you don’t know what they did —”

Zoro very nearly sneers, the gaping wound inside him pulsing red and fire-poker hot as he lets go of your chin.

“You think you’re the only one with a tragic backstory? Look around,” he gestures around the main deck, where the whole crew’s gathered, with various expressions of shock and trepidation scattered across their faces.

Zoro tightens his hold, bearing down over you as he whispers, “You’re not special. Get over yourself.”

He jerks his hand away, turning to stalk back towards the trap door. He hears you cough behind him.

“You’re a real dick, Roronoa, you know that?”

He’s pleased to hear that at least your voice is shaky, even as your words burrow themselves beneath his skin.

He barely glances over his shoulder, “Yeah. Been told a good few times.”

And he strides from the deck, slamming the trap door behind him as he does.

— — —

“Hey.”

Zoro groans, barely peeling open one eye as Luffy edges his way into the small storage room.

“What?” Zoro asks, casting his eyes back at the wood-beamed ceiling.

Luffy crosses his arms, seemingly searching for the right words.

“That wasn’t very cool of you — what you did back there. But — I can kind of get where you’re coming from.”

Zoro chokes back an indignant laugh, “Yeah?”

Luffy nods, spurred on by his apparent acceptance, “Yeah! Like — I get it! You’re just mad that someone you cared so much about let you believe she was dead! But now that she’s not dead… you don’t really know what to do with your feelings!”

Zoro narrows his eyes, uncertain what to do with the surprisingly accurate diagnosis. Luffy is grinning, looking mightily pleased with himself as he plops down on top of a wooden barrel, crossing his legs.

“It’s a bit more than that,” Zoro says, letting his eyes flicker back to the ceiling.

“Yeah? Then tell me!”

Zoro sighs, considering his words.

“I mean, do you even know what it’s like? Thinkin’ you’ve lost one of your —” Zoro nearly chokes on the word, barbed and abrasive in his throat, but he forces it through, “your friends?”

Luffy nods, his smile never faltering, “Sure! You almost died at the Baratie and that really, really sucked for a while!”

Zoro jerks up, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s not — I mean —” he shakes his head, unable to entirely parse through his thoughts.

“It’s not really that different, is it?” Luffy asks.

Zoro groans, scratching at his scalp with his nails. He can’t refute Luffy, but he can’t verbalize why it had been so different for you either. It leaves him feeling gouged out and hollow as he slumps back into his hammock, leaving it swinging with the weight of his body.

“Its okay,” Luffy says, jumping to his feet and padding over to give Zoro a solid smack on the arm, “if you just say your sorry, I’m sure she’ll forgive you!”

Zoro nearly snarls as he scrambles up, but Luffy’s already bouncing out of the room, humming to himself.

“Oh! She’s in the kitchen — it’s weird, but I think she likes to make sweets when she’s stressed. Kinda nice though — it’s like we’ll never be short of desserts on the ship again!”

“Right,” Zoro says, leaning back into his hammock, scowling at the ceiling.

Luffy pauses by the door, “She’s not a bad person.”

Zoro sighs, hesitating perhaps a beat longer than he should have.

“Sure. If you say so.”

— — —

He dreams of you. He dreams of the later summer day when the air was so tepid that practice had ended early in lieu of letting all the students laze by the small koi pond in the backyard of the doujou complex.

You’d come over that morning with your usual sweets, and had stayed for lunch with the rest of the children.

Kuina had tried to teach you some basic forms with a wooden sword, but even from afar, Zoro could tell that you’re woefully inept at handling anything as long and unwieldy as a katana.

“If you practice, you’ll get better,” Kuina offers, leading you to the koi pond, where you’d peered curiously into the crystal clear water and gasped with pleasure at the white and black spotted fish that flickered beneath, their scales shimmering in the late summer sun.

“Betcha you couldn’t do a hundred swings,” Zoro says, thumbing at his nose, rolling up his sleeves. Next to you, Kuina rolls her eyes, but you stare at him for a long second before smiling.

“Sure! I can do a hundred.” You leap to your feet, and Kuina hands you one of the light wooden training swords.

Zoro takes great pains to pull out one of his real katanas, metal and cloth and all, dropping into a perfect sparring stance.

“One! Two!” he counts, swinging the sword down in a controlled motion, his heels digging in, his toes keeping him balanced.

You follow his movements, though after a good thirty of them, you gasp, the wooden sword clattering to the ground. Zoro turns, only to see you cradling one of your hands. He rushes forward, not caring that his own sword clanks down into the soft grass as well.

“It’s a splinter,” you say, forlorn as you hold up your forefinger to the light, a minuscule shard of wood protruding from the soft pad beneath your nail.

Zoro sighs, reaching out to grab your hand in his. He can’t help noticing the softness of your skin against his own callused palms, how small your hands feel in his.

“Hold still,” he says, peering at the splinter with a frown dug between his brows.

“I-it’s fine! My mom will take it out once I get home — and we’ve still got seventy more swings —”

Zoro tuts, shooting you a dark look, “If we don’t take care of it, it might get fester and get worse.”

You go quiet, your arm going slack as you let Zoro twist your hand this way and that. After a few more moments of silent assessment, Zoro leans in to press his thumb to the base of the splinter. You squeak in protest, jerking your arm back on instinct, but he’s stronger than you, even then, and he holds you still.

“Quit squirming! I’m gonna squeeze it out.”

You clamp down on your lips, eyes wide and watery as you force yourself still, and Zoro goes back to the gruesome work of forcing the splinter out bit by bit.

When finally, the needle of wood falls away from your hand, there’s bead of blood welling up into the wound. You press the finger into your mouth.

“Thanks,” you say, grinning at Zoro.

It’s only then that Zoro processes the blaze of heat that rushes into his cheeks. He looks away, clearing his throat.

“I’ve always hated those old practice swords — the handles aren’t wrapped well enough. Here —” he reaches down and hands you one of his real swords (the best and most well-balanced one), the hilt wrapped with fine black cloth, in a traditional diamond hatch.

Your wrists tip forward as he hands you the sword, but a second later, you hold it upright, marveling at it’s balance.

“Whoa… it’s so… beautiful.”

Zoro crinkles his nose, stepping back to pick up another one of his swords, dropping into a sparring stance again. He makes a concerted effort not to look in Shimotsuki-sensei’s direction, even though he can feel the man’s eyes tracking him, know the exact shape and luster of the man’s soft, knowing smile.

“C’mon, seventy more swings to go,” he gruffs, glancing back at you.

You nod eagerly, trying to mirror his stance. But your legs are too far apart, your knees not bent enough. And it’s plain as day the katana is a bit too long for your body. Still, Zoro smiles to himself as he begins to count again —

“Thirty-four, thirty-five —”

— — —

It’s a week before either of you speak to each other again. Though even Zoro has to be hard-pressed to not notice the delicate little sweets that now seem to accompany the ends of all their meals.

And he can hear your laughter, hard as he tries not to, the sound trickling into him like spring water — clear and sweet. He can see you frequently chatting with Nami, that familiar rosy glow to your cheeks, or hear you joking with Sanji, the pair of you staking opposite ends of the kitchen — you to make dessert, him to make whatever the hell he’s decided to make that day.

As for Zoro, he finds himself circling the periphery of these cheery moments, sticking to the shadows, somber as a vulture, watching you with dark eyes and a nameless weight bearing down on his chest. He knows he’s being unreasonable, that none of this is objectively your fault.

But as he’s heard Sanji say to Luffy more than once — feelings aren’t objective things. You kinda just have to let them be.

It’s a warm, sun-baked afternoon when he pushes into the kitchen and finds you there, by yourself for once, an apron tied around your waist, a bowl of fat, juicy strawberries sitting on the counter before you, the area around the counter dusted in a fine layer of flour and sugar.

“Ow — shit —” you drop the tiny parring knife you’d been holding, bringing your hand up to your eyes.

The late afternoon light cuts slantwise across the entire kitchen, illuminating the shape of you in a solid chunk of shadow, like a piece of cut cloth in the dappled, golden light, inked against the freshly waxed floors (courtesy of Usopp, at Sanji’s snack-based behest).

“What happened?” Zoro rushes forward before he can stop himself.

“N-nothing,” you say, making as if to jerk back, but Zoro catches your hand and forces it forward into the light. He can see the small snick the knife had made on your palm.

Scowling, he looks up at you, a silent question in his eyes.

“I was — I was peeling the strawberries.”

He’s caught momentarily off-guard by the strangeness of your answer.

“Peeling strawberries?”

You blush, the color saturating your skin like the berry juice staining your fingertips.

“Yeah! Cause… the strawberry skins have those little seeds in them, and that creates a strange texture if it’s mixed into the filling so —”

Zoro scoffs, reaching into a drawer to pull out a bandage and a small roll of gauze.

“Hold still,” he says, leaning down to wipe the cut lean.

You sigh, your voice falling flat as you say, only half-jokingly, “Don’t worry — it’s nothing. It won’t kill me.”

Zoro levels you with a sharp glare and you freeze mid-breath, clamping down over your lips as you drop your head to hide your eyes behind your soft bank of bangs. Zoro resumes his work, his heart thundering an irregular beat at the back of his throat.

He finishes bandaging you in silence, and then, he drops your hand and turns to leave.

“Wait —”

He stops, barely sparing you a look over his shoulder.

“I —” you teeter on the balls of your feet; he can feel you weighing your words, searching for the right ones to say. Finally, you settle on, “I’m making sakura-mochi next. Do you… do you want to try some?”

Zoro huffs, turning back around with slightly narrowed eyes. He regards you for a long moment before making his way to the sofa and dropping into it, folding his arms. You let out a visible breath, the tension draining from your shoulders as you make to pick up the parring knife again.

“Here, I got it.” Zoro is by your side in an instant, plucking the small knife from your grasp and tugging the bowl of fruit towards him.

“But —”

“I might not be a waiter, but I can handle my knives,” he says, squaring his shoulders as he starts the methodical work of skinning each strawberry.

The silence coagulates around the pair of you like melted butter, growing colder by the minute. You carefully measure out half a cup of warm water and pour it into the pristine white rice flour, kneading the forming dough as you go.

Zoro plunks one strawberry after another into a separate bowl, dropping the thin strips of pebbled skin into the trash.

After another few moments, you pause. So does he.

“That other day —”

“I should’ve told you —”

You both talk at the same time, both freezing after a single, starling heartbeat.

Zoro sighs, shrugging up a shoulder.

“You first.”

You resume your gentle kneading of the lumpy dough.

“No, it’s just… I… I get it. I know why your mad at me. But… it’s not that simple,” you say, your voice imploring.

Zoro’s shoulders stiffen, “Seemed pretty simple to me.”

“What did you expect me to do? Bare my soul to you the first time we’d met after almost a decade? After you’d been hunting me for weeks — for a bounty?”

Zoro drops his hands, one still poised on the knife’s handle, the other cradling a half-skinned strawberry.

“I wouldn’tve — you know I wouldn’t —” he nearly whips the knife across the room in frustration, but thinks better of it at the last second. It drops from his hand with a dull clatter as he reaches out to wipe his hands on a discarded towel.

“I… I hoped…” your voice fractures along the word and Zoro places the strawberry into its bowl.

“I hoped you might’ve… recognized —“ you try again, but Zoro shakes his head.

“A good hunter always keeps his distance,” he recites, words dull. You nod, pursing your lips. It was something sensei had taught him — don’t strike until you absolutely have to. And when you do, make it quick.

Slowly, you start to knead the dough again, pressing the heel of your hand into the center. Zoro watches the soft white of it bulge beneath your fingers, the rough lumps smoothing out until the entire thing is round and soft and perfect.

Zoro folds his arms, leaning a hip against the counter.

“Why didn’t you tell me? The first time?” he asks, the accusation now gone from his voice, replaced by something much, much worse — uncertainty.

“I couldn’t — not without Baroque Works tracking me and —” you bite off the last bit of your sentence, looking away.

“And what?” Zoro asks, his voice gentle.

“It’s nothing. You’re right — I should’ve —”

“No,” Zoro says, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to him, “tell me what they did to you. I — I want to know.”

You lick your lips, your eyes watery, fractaled by the dying light, “But… maybe I don’t want you to know. I don’t want — want to you think of me like — like that.”

Zoro lets out a mirthless puff of laughter, “Bit too late for that.”

Your eyes snap back to his, wide and searching.

He shrugs, grip loosening ever so slightly on your wrists.

“I —” he has to fight through the tightness in his throat, the dryness papering the back of his tongue, “I thought of you all the time,” he admits, licking his lips, “most nights, I’d have these dreams of when we were both —” he breaks off again, his mind mired in the haze of half-forgotten memories.

“When we were both kids?” you offer gently.

Zoro nods.

“So please… tell me what happened.”

You stare at him as he stares at you. He sighs, the edge of his lips twitching up ever so slightly.

“And… you promised.”

A tiny laugh punches out of you, startled and resigned all at once. You nod.

“Yeah… guess I did.”

The last dregs of sunset bleeds the room empty, and the pair of you are suddenly thrown into a pitched, primal dark. In it, your eyes shown, black and glassy.

“My parents were always living on borrowed time,” you say, trailing a finger through the fine dust of rice flour on the counter, “they…” you break off in a puff of laughter, the sound so course it doesn’t even register as a laugh.

“They couldn’t have a child, so they… got creative. They were young and in love, and desperate to start a family.”

Zoro frowns, trying to piece the disparate pieces of the story together.

“Do you know where Devil Fruits come from?” you ask, dusting your hands off before wiping them on your apron and reaching for a piece of wax paper to wrap your freshly made rice dough. Zoro watches you move through the seemingly mundane tasks, his mind spinning.

“Uh — not really. Never really thought about it.”

You nod, pressing the wax paper in around the edges of the dough, folding it in neat, origami lines until the whole thing is wrapped.

“Legends say that Devil Fruits are enchanted by Sea Devils — manifesting when humans want something enough to wish it into existence. Most of the time, the trade-off is simple — the Devil Fruit eater gains some kind of power, but gives up their ability to survive in seawater,” a wry smile plays at your lips.

“Have you ever thought of the average life expectancy for a Devil Fruit eater?”

Zoro shakes his head, frown carving deeper and deeper between his brows.

“Well, I can tell you — it’s not as long as you might think. Most of them end up dying young…”

From beyond the windows, a pale, silvery moon peaks out from the far horizon, casting the room in a cold, alien glow. You wrap your arms around yourself, as if defending against an unseen chill, and Zoro feels the familiar pull behind his navel, to reach out for you and pull you close.

“My parents wished, but when they got their wish, it wasn’t a god that had answered them — it was —“

“A Sea Devil.”

There’s no question in Zoro’s tone, no room for shock or wonder or bewilderment. He’d watched you die; and yet here you are in front of him, traced silver by the moonlight.

You nod, reaching up to drag your fingers through your hair, and Zoro watches, breathless, at the inky spill of it over your shoulder, shielding your face from the burgeoning light.

“What did they trade?” Zoro asks, though a part of him thinks he already knows.

“Their lives,” you answer simply.

Zoro narrows his eyes, “Still doesn’t explain how you ended up —“ he motions at the stagnant air between them. Above decks, he can hear the sound of a fire being built, the clatter of footsteps and the warm trickle of laughter.

You shrug, “The cardinal rule of wish-making, as any good fairy-tale will tell you,” you spin a finger around in the air before pointing it at Zoro, “is… specificity.”

Zoro grunts, casting his eyes down at the bowl of half-skinned strawberries.

“Careful what you wish for…” he says.

You raise your thumb, your forefinger still pointed at him, now in a finger-gun shape, before pulling an invisible trigger. Zoro feels a shiver shake him all the way down to his bones.

“Apparently, when they said ‘we’ll give you our lives’, they didn’t know they’d wished away my life too.”

Zoro swallows, “So… what? They made another deal?”

“Yep,” you sound entirely too bright, reaching behind yourself now to untie the apron, “they made another deal.”

“And what did they trade away this time?”

You slip the apron from around your middle, reaching out to hang it on a hook by the far wall. When you turn around, it’s to find Zoro still watching you, the curves of his face washed colorless by the moon.

You offer him a small, heartbreaking smile.

“The only thing they had left to trade — my death.”

TAGLIST: @brairslair @msheds0519 @yunabelless @lynndt-chocolate @@lostonthrillerbark @stunies @tsumu-senpai @phroggii @ssailormoonnn @breathinginyoursmoke @guridoodles @kyllium @naomihatake @itoshiexx @mythicallystupid @mars-mizuko @astroniii @crispynutella @enhastolemyheart @fanficwriter101 @jamesbparker @dira333 @weirdowithaphone @ink-perfect @lodeddiperrodrick @not-a-glad-gladiator @vinskypuff @itsagoodluckkiss @blondethinkpink @ellelowthere @annievrse @m333myselfandiii @tsubaki3192 @grapelover2000 @teewon @keigoskrio @ggyuslovie @manuosorioh @one17 @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @emmaiscool22 @ponyboys-sunsets @m333myselfandiii @13-09-01 — pls comment below if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series!

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louisferrignojr · 5 months ago

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It’s a little past midnight when they stumble through the threshold of Tommy’s house, and Buck’s equal parts drunk and sleepy, the workday’s events taking their toll on him, and the two bottles of wine they shared between them painting his cheeks a pretty pink and sending him into a bit of a daze. All he can think of is stripping down to his underwear and getting under the covers and wrapping himself around his boyfriend like a koala bear on a eucalyptus tree.

“Did you know koala bears have a pouch too, like kangaroos?” he says as he takes off his shoes at the entryway, kicking them towards the coat stand. “Where the baby lives. In its mother’s tummy.” He pauses for a second before he adds, “Wish I was a baby koala bear.”

Tommy laughs softly. “Okay, big baby, let’s get you to bed,” Tommy’s hands are on his hips, spinning him around and leading him down the corridor to his bedroom.

Buck grins, slips out of his grasp and turns around to face him. “I’ll go to bed if you come with me,” he says, trying to be sexy, but it doesn’t quite hit the mark. He’s really not sober enough to make his voice take on that sultry tone that gets the message across no matter how ridiculous the line.

“Yes, I sleep here, too, Evan,” Tommy’s smiling fondly at him, and Buck can’t help it, he throws his arms around the man’s shoulders and pulls him in for a kiss, keeps him close as he stumbles backwards and falls on the mattress, pulling Tommy with him, a surprised gasp breaking their interlocked lips.

Tommy’s laughing then and pulling out of his grasp, moving off of the bed to start undressing. “How are you still horny when you’re this drunk?”

“I’m always horny when you’re around.”

“Such a smooth talker.”

“Okay, but wait, wait, Tommy, listen,” Buck pushes up to his elbows, grabs the front of Tommy’s t-shirt in a mistaken effort to pull himself up the rest of the way, only succeeding because Tommy reaches for him with his arms outstretched and helps him sit up. Buck frames his face between his palms as his gaze locks with Tommy’s. “You want − do you want to be my baby-daddy?”

Tommy snorts a laugh, which is not the reaction Buck was hoping for. “You might have to retake Biology 101, Evan,” he says then, and Buck’s face breaks into a grin, relief washing over him. Of course his boyfriend’s only teasing him. Of course it makes his stomach do a flip in response.

“I’m serious,” Buck says then, though he’s still grinning like a loon. “I wanna have your babies.”

“Mm, still not technically possible, honey.” Tommy’s hands are working on the buttons of his shirt while he speaks, having removed his own t-shirt already.

“Tommy,” Buck whines now, evidently having run out of patience. “I’m serious. I want this.”

Tommy nods, pauses for a minute to cup Buck’s cheek in one hand, the other finding Buck’s to interlace their fingers. “I know,” he says in a gentle tone. “We can talk about it when we’re sober, yeah?” And with that he leans in and presses a soft kiss to Buck’s smiling mouth. “But in the meantime…” he trails off, pulls back to meet Buck in the eye, and the twitch at the corner of his mouth is all Buck needs to catch on to Tommy’s intentions.

Finally, they’re on the same page, and soon enough, Buck’s horizontal and fully naked, with Tommy lying next to him, kissing him sweetly, one hand tangled in Buck’s hair while the other is wrapped around his cock, jerking him off with slick, rapid motions, each upstroke bringing Buck closer to the edge until he comes all over Tommy’s hand, toes curling and back arching off the mattress as his orgasm washes over him.

Tommy’s still pressing a myriad of soft kisses along his jaw, down his throat and over his collarbone, and Buck’s expression melts into a hazy smile, head sinking further into the pillow − until he feels Tommy shift, moving away, and that won’t do at all.

“Gimme,” Buck stretches out his arms, making grabby-hands motions at Tommy. “I can’t get up. Bring it here to me. Please.” He accentuates the request with his puppy-dog eyes that he knows works like a charm on Tommy, pushing out his pouty lips that he knows Tommy can’t resist.

“Fucking shit, Buckley,” Tommy leans over to kiss him before he gets to his feet, taking his jeans and briefs off in one quick motion, then proceeds to climb on the mattress. He swings a leg over Buck’s torso and settles down with a hand wrapped around his beautiful hard cock just inches away from Buck’s mouth. “This okay?”

Buck nods eagerly, arms wrapping around Tommy’s thighs to pull him closer, lifting his head off the pillow and taking him in his mouth. Tommy moans loudly and Buck smiles with Tommy’s dick in his mouth, starts sucking the head of it, lapping at it eagerly with the tip of his tongue, until he suddenly drops his head back on the pillow.

“Just fuck my mouth, Tommy. Please.”

Tommy doesn’t need to be asked twice. He shuffles even closer and guides himself back in, starts with shallow little thrusts into his mouth - because as much as Buck might want to take more of him in, Tommy knows it’ll trigger his gag reflex, at this awkward angle. Buck makes a note to tell him afterwards, how good Tommy is to him, how careful and gentle and patient he’s been from the very beginning, giving Buck another chance that he didn’t really deserve. It sends another rush of emotions flooding through him, and Buck makes a high pitched keening noise at the back of his throat, his fingers digging into the meat of Tommy’s ass hard enough that his nails will surely leave little crescent moon-shaped imprints, but it only makes Tommy moan louder. Buck tries to reach further in between his cheeks to push two fingers against Tommy’s perineum, and just like that, Tommy tips over the edge, spilling into his mouth.

Buck swallows him down and licks his lips, making sure he gets every last drop, before he says, “That definitely won’t make a baby,” with a cheeky grin on his face.

It makes Tommy laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been told.”

Tommy shakes his head. He climbs off of him and lays down on the bed next to him, snaking an arm underneath Buck’s neck to pull him close to him, fingers under Buck’s chin tipping his head into a soft kiss.

“I love you.” Tommy says, his expression the very definition of fond. “I’d love to be your baby-daddy, Evan.”

Buck can’t help the grin that splits his face in two. “Yeah?” he asks, and Tommy’s smile mirrors his own.

“Yeah.”

#bucktommy #bucktommy fanfic #dailykinley #911 abc #my writing #I MISS WRITING THEM SO HERE'S A CUTE AND SEXY UNBETA'D UNEDITED LITTLE FICLET #please point out spelling or grammar issues if you spot any #its 1:30 and im sleepy and my brain stopped working due to the heatwave anyway!!!!

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trendywaifus · 2 months ago

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burnice tryna fiend during break time while she’s bartending. cw: gn! reader with a dick, dry sex, needy burnice, dry humping, cursing

“ c’mon darlin, there ain’t nobody linin’ up at the front! we got some time for a quickie—pretty please?” pleading, warm red eyes stare into yours, impatiently awaiting for your approval. burnice’s frame leans into yours, one knee dipped into the leather, pillowy cushion of the small couch between your legs, and hands perched on your shoulders. she’s right, it’s been pretty slow due to it being noon right now, but that doesn’t mean people don’t stroll in her bar around this time. you give her a look of disapproval and casually went back to reading your novel. she whines, expressing her disappointment.

you sigh exasperatedly, “ burnice, behave yourself. when it comes to you, there’s no such thing as a quickie. we can wait until after you close your bar. “

“ but i don’t wanna wait—it’s hard to be patient when my darlin’ is looking so good like this! ”your girlfriend whines again, shoving herself in your lap, you’re forced to wrap your arms around her waist with your book in your hand so her body doesn’t accidentally smush it. “ girl, i’m reading a book, it’s not like i’m trying to be. “

burnice’s hand rests on the nape of your neck and draws her face closer to yours.“ exactly! you look good so effortlessly that i can’t help but want ya. now, gimme so sugar, baby~ “ you let her plush lips mold with yours in a feverish kiss. digits rub at the tender skin while she enjoys the sweet taste of lemonade you had from earlier on your lips. a satisfied moan runs from her throat. “ jus’ what i been cravin’. .“ burnice whispers between intoxicating kisses, hot breath lightly fanning against your mouth. you make sure to set the book beside you and run one hand under her skirt to gently squeeze her inner thigh. her breath hitches.

“ just kissing and touching, okay girl? “ you murmur. burnice makes a little noise of disappointment.

her pouty lips move to kiss the corner of your lips and your cheek.

muah! muah!

“ c’mon~ muah. ya know that ain’t enough. .even my other baby agrees. “ burnice hand wander downwards and brush over the growing tent in your leather pants.

“ i-i actually have some self-control. i-i’ll be fine with this—mmh. . “

burnice’s steady hips roll in one fluid motion, grazing her clothed heat against your bulge. you let out a low groan. “ i wouldn’t be a good girlfriend if i was fine with letting ya stay like this, “ she whisper roguishly in your ear and press wet kiss below it, “ only touchin’ and kissin’ right? that won’t be enough f’me but maybe it’ll be for ya after all, darlin’~ “ the blonde purrs in a sultry whisper, grinding herself sensually against you. parted warm lips explore the heating skin on your neck. burnice’s open-mouth kisses leave behind a small, thin sheets of saliva on your skin. “ af-after this day is over, you’re going to get it. . “

giddy, she giggles, still peppering your neck with kisses, “ really? say ya promise, sugar~ “ you groan at the excitement in her voice. burnice will find any threat or challenge as banter.

her hips circles down on your lap before moving back and forth. she repeats the same actions—back and forth, side to side until the shitty friction between your leather pants and her spandex grew unbearable to tolerate. your jaw tenses as you grit your teeth, nails slightly dig into the supple flesh of her milky thighs. “ already feelin’ it now, darlin’? “ she taunts, pulling her face away to flash you one of her mocking smirks. her arms repositions itself to hang off your shoulders. half-lidded, flame-colored hues fixate on the pretty sight of your reddened bottom lip rolling between your teeth, fueling her tortuously slow grinding.

your mind gradually turns upside down and you’re growing frustration from the clothed barrier between your throbbing length and her pussy. you hang on to rule that you made like a vice but it doesn’t hurt to bend it. “ hold on burnice, lift up your hips. “ and she gladly does with visible anticipation on her pretty features as you reach down to unzip yourself. you only tug down your pants to your thighs, just enough for your boxers to be exposed. burnice’s hand immediately tries to touch you through the thin fabric but you swat it away. “ no. sit back down. “ she awws in disappointment and complies.

“ no fair. . “ burnice murmurs and moans softly from your dick pressed more against her clothed clit. the heat, the hardness rubbing her so deliciously—she’s sure that her spandex is starting to stick to her due to the arousal seeping through. however, she can’t give in just yet, she has you wrapped around her finger. burnice wants to please you—well, while also pleasing herself. it’s a win-win!

“ that’s better, just like that burnice. .” you groaned, assisting the movement of burnice’s skillful hips as she grinds on your aching member. pre-cum oozes from your tip, causing a dark patch to form from your boxers. she hastily slots her lips between yours once more, bringing you into a messy kiss full of tongue. your moans erupt in sync at the full taste from each other’s mouths. your hand comes in contact with the back of her head, fingers curling around silky blonde locks while the other that was previously on her thigh, snake around to squeeze her plump ass.

a needy moan claws from her throat and her aimed movement turns sloppy and desperate as she gets easily distracted by the kiss. your tongues filthily swirl around, spit dangling and trickling down your chins like drool. burnice tastes just like nitro-fuel and it’s making you feel jittery. “ ride n’ grind on me please. .” you beg through laboring breaths after pulling away for oxygen. she casts you a breathless smile that has your weakened legs turn even weaker.

she gives you one last slippery kiss on the lips. “ you don’ hafta tell me twice, hot lips. jus’ like this?”burnice alludes to you still wearing your boxers while she has on her skirt and shorts underneath. swallowing the buildup in your throat, you bob your head. “ please. “

burnice adjusts herself properly on your lap, making sure her knees are aligned with your hips. you sit back into the head of of the couch, placing your hands on her thighs. your thumbs strokes the smooth skin. your eyes rake up and down her figure and you can’t help but be in awe. “ crazy, but such a pretty girl. .hnngh, what a combo. .” you mutter as she starts back up rubbing your compressed cock between her clothed, yet soaked folds. burnice winks at you, wiping away the drool from the corner of your mouth with a thumb. “ i call that the burnice special and i’m all yours, sweetie~”

burnice uses the momentum to slightly bounce then rolls her hips right down on your aching length. teeth-grinding pleasure ripples through you as she jerks her gifted hips. it feels so good—even when you’re not inside of her, you’re still going dumb.

“ baby. . “ you drawl out in a soft, sugary voice which makes burnice coo at how pretty you sound. it gets her so exhilarated that you’re all hers. “ look how adorable my darlin’ is when they’re needy for me~”she purrs, grasping your hand and guides it to her her chest. you instinctively squeeze her breast though her tube top. you tip your head back on the couch, a drop of sweat rolling down the side of your face. your thighs slowly go numb as burnice expertly rides you dry but you’re very much on the verge of creaming in your boxers.

“ k-keep going burnice, i’m a-almost there. .! “ you breathed, buckling your hips up to her addicting heat.

she grins, resorting to rutting herself up against you. like before, her precise movement reduce to sloppy, but hard circles on your twitching cock. the meddling knot in your belly twists and tightens. “ cum, sugar. hold on tight ta me if ya wanna. “ burnice encourages, not an ounce of tease in her carefree voice.

with one more stiff jerk of her hips, your cock erratically twitches, and your arms fling around her body. “ burniceeee, “ you slurred, hugging her tight as you cum hard. sloppy ropes of cum spill out, making a mess of your ruined boxers and burnice can feel the stickiness. your thighs tremble from the high. “ that’s it~ i ain’t going no where, hun, “ she plants sweet kisses to the crown of your head as you bury your face into her chest, ‘feels like my baby made a mess, huh? “

you grump, “ shut up, this is your fault. had you been more patient, this wouldn’t have happened. .”

you feel like her break out into a grin against your temple. “ well darn hun, it actually looks like you was the impatient one here. i ain’t get to ride you properly like i was shootin’ for—but it all worked out in the end, right? nobody rolled up for a drink so we’re in the clear~ “ her hand skims down your back in a soothing manner.

you retract away and sighed. “ but i’m a mess, burnice. do you have a spare towel or napkins i can use to clean up? “

burnice licks her lips, “ no need, darlin’! i’m fixing to clean that mess up for ya— “

a few faint rings made you and burnice freeze. a annoyed male voice calls out, “ we’ve been sittin’ here for the past five minutes! what’s the big idea! “

you exhaled heavily and burnice scrambles from your lap and rushes to the front. “ m’sorry hun! let me help my customers and i’ll come right back to ya! “

this girl.

#burnice x reader zzz #burnice white x reader #zzz women x reader #zzz x reader #zenless zone zero x reader #zzz smut

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