#something about the seal pulling him back

[tojisun]

cw: omegaverse, claim/marking bites, injuries

simon’s hunger is palpable, rippling underneath his desperation. he feels his jowls fill with his spit, coiling along the spaces of his teeth to settle underneath his tongue. his gums ache with the need to mark; to claim, searing his bond into the fabrics of your being; to make it so that you cannot exist without him—it will always be you and simon, twined for eternity.

and he knows, christ he knows, that only alphas can stake their claims. that they are the only ones who can seal a bond, but simon looks at you and thinks about how he’s never been jealous of alphas until now.

he presented as a beta. it was never a crutch or anything that churned his passive acceptance into envy, especially in their line of duty—no ruts to hinder a mission, no rift in their captain’s territorial claims, no bouts of unleashed aggression. alphas are difficult to tame, even price said so, and simon understands.

he’s a clean slate. free. there is nothing tying him to his needs; nothing to hinder his clarity. he breathes in air and it is just that—no scent, no ripe fruit for the taking.

simon’s adored it.

but you have to just come along, didn’t you?

pretty omega, all beautiful and soft. crybaby, in bursts, but so vibrant in your love. in your tenderness. your heart is so full of joy, of adoration. some of them slip from your lips, dripping like honey. and when you turn to him, it is always with a sparkle in your eyes like you know you are safe with him.

he’s never wanted to be an alpha before. he’s never had the urge to mark and to claim, until now. do you know what you do to him?

this, he said, bringing your trembling hand down to his building chub. you did this to me.

simon couldn’t smell you but god he wishes he could. he’s heard his captain grunt about your scent before—little bird smelling like an orchard; like apples or medlars. like something sweet and citrus and ripe.

simon wondered how your skin will tear upon the sinking of sharp canines into the tender part of your glands. he wondered if he could be the one to claim you.

and, just like the promise you always are, you told him, yes, all hiccupping while you stared up at him, your hand flexing to fully caress at his chub. please, si?

so here he is now—his arms full of your buzzing warmth, his skin pressed to yours. your shirts have been torn off in each other’s desperation, leaving you bare on his lap, your supple back pressed to the rough drag of his hairy front. he pulls you close like the two of you are not sharing the same breath already.

he leans forward, brushing his lips on the goosebump-littered skin of your nape.

“here,” he rumbles, his breaths coming out ragged and his voice cracking as it drags out from the base of his throat. “i’ll bite y’here. sink my teeth until it’s bleeding, an’ when the scab heals, i’ll bite y’again. an’ again an’ again.”

because simon’s not an alpha. he cannot promise a claiming mark, but this—an eternity of a renewal; a lifetime of his teeth finding their way into the tender press of your skin—is as close as he can give you. and when it heals, he’ll do it again—

“until it takes.”

you hiccup, sniffling, and folding yourself into him. so emotional, his crybaby of a doll.

the first burst of your blood in his mouth makes him twitch, his mind locking in its place. he doesn’t know how much timed passed but when he comes to, it’s to a gnawed piece on your neck. it’s messy and bleeding and beautiful.

his mark.

a seed in your orchard.

“thank you, si.”

simon murmurs in a soothing voice, quiet croons passing through his blood-stained lips as he tips your head towards him and kisses you. the final seal. your part in this dance—the acceptance of the bite.

finally, the two of you are a bonded pair.

[starsinthesky5]

what are joe and songbird doing rn

a/n: im ovulating so here’s a smutty little blurb for everyone this fine evening

warnings: smut, hint of munch joe

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

his shoulders were pressed firm between her thighs, broad and warm and unwavering as he buried himself between them like a man starved. the room was dim—just the soft amber glow of the hallway light spilling in, casting a glow across the sheets—but everything about the way he touched her felt lit from within. like reverence. like worship.

she was already breathless, one hand gripping the comforter, the other buried in his curls, fingers curling instinctively every time his tongue flattened against her clit. slow, calculated licks that made her toes curl and her hips rise, only to be pressed back down again by those damn hands of his—one on her stomach, the other hooked under her thigh to keep her right where he wanted her.

“joe—,” her voice caught, high and airy, already dissolving into a moan.

he hummed in response—low, satisfied, the sound vibrating through her—then did it again, lips sealing around her like she was the only thing he’d ever wanted. and maybe she was. because in the quiet of the off-season, with no film to study, no meetings to rush to, no weight of the world on his back—he could just have her. take his time with her. and god, did he ever.

he pulled back just enough to look at her—his mouth shiny with her arousal, jaw flexing as he dragged two fingers through her slick and pushed them in slow, curling just right. “this okay, baby?”.

she nodded, too breathless to speak, the answer written all over her face. pupils blown, lips parted, chest heaving like she couldn’t quite remember how to breathe unless he told her to. “good,” he murmured, kissing her thigh. “been thinking about this all damn day,”.

then he was back on her, tongue flicking over her clit while his fingers fucked into her slow and steady, coaxing her right to the edge. her thighs shook. her back arched. and he just kept going—murmuring sweet nothings against her, telling her how good she tasted, how pretty she looked like this, how much he loved making her fall apart for him.

his pace was patient, but purposeful. like he had nowhere to be but here. like every slick, shivery sound she made was carved into his ribs. his fingers curled just right inside her, slow and rhythmic, dragging pleasure from her in long, aching pulls. and his mouth—god, his mouth. open and warm and relentless, lapping at her like it grounded him.

when she finally came, it was with his name on her lips—long and trembling and sacred—and he didn’t stop. just held her through it, kissed her through it, licked her through every last wave until she was gasping, tugging at his hair, whispering, “too much, too much,” even as her hips chased after him.

“i’ve got you,” he whispered, kissing her inner thigh. his voice was thick with heat, with love. “you’re so good for me, sweetheart,”.

he didn’t pull away right away. no—he pressed slow kisses along her inner thighs, soft and worshipful, fingers still grazing her skin in lazy, grounding strokes. her body was still trembling beneath him, soft and undone, but when she finally opened her eyes, he was already looking up at her. flushed, lips swollen, eyes dark with affection and something much deeper.

and when he finally came up for air, chest rising with every breath, mouth still warm from her, he grinned. lazy and smug and in love. his hands smoothed up her sides, easing her into his chest as he kissed the sweat-damp skin at her temple. he nudged her leg open again with his thigh, voice rough as he muttered, “still thinking about the way you sounded when you came for me,”. his fingers trailed along the inside of her knee, then higher, “can i have you now?”.

she gave him a look—already dazed and cushy against his body, but still managing a soft, teasing smirk. “you already had me. but okay,”.

he just grinned, leaned down, and kissed her slow. a kiss that was tongue and heat and the kind of need that burned steady in the chest, sinking deep and winding tight. she melted under him, legs parting wider, fingers sliding back into his hair like it was instinct. his body pressed flush to hers, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat.

he reached between them, teasing her first—his fingertips slipping through the slick mess he’d made of her, gathering it on his fingers and bringing it up to circle her clit. slow. soft. just enough to make her whimper and arch, to make her eyes flutter open and lock on his like he was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth. “that’s it,” he murmured, watching every shift in her face, every breath she stole. “just like that,”.

when he finally guided himself to her entrance, he didn’t rush. he rocked forward gently, dragging the thick head of his cock through her folds, back and forth, until she was gasping—hips twitching, hands clawing at his back like she couldn’t take another second of teasing. and he loved it. he loved the way she came undone beneath him, the way her body responded to his every move like it was made for him.

he pressed in slow. deep. inch by inch until he was fully settled, both of them gasping at the stretch, the closeness, the overwhelming rightness of it “fuck,” he whispered, forehead pressing against hers, one hand braced beside her head, the other holding her hip tight. “you feel so good. always so good for me,”.

he held still for a beat, savoring the way she clenched around him, how warm and wet and perfect she felt. her nails scraped down his back, not to hurt—but to feel. to ground herself in him “please move,” she whispered, voice cracked and pleading.

he did, slowly at first, dragging his cock out until just the tip remained before pushing back in, groaning low as she fluttered around him. she moaned, head tipping back, exposing her throat—and he kissed it, again and again, as he built a rhythm. unhurried. deliberate. aching with intimacy.

he watched her like she was the only thing in the world, every flicker of pleasure, every shiver, every moan feeding something greedy and tender inside him. his hips moved with purpose, grinding deep, rolling into her like he wanted her to feel him for days.

his hands slid down to cup her ass, pulling her into him, making each thrust hit just right. she clung to him, body taut and trembling, mouth parted on soft cries he swallowed with his own. he murmured filth into her skin, love into her mouth, worship into her bones.

“mine,” he growled against her throat, fucking her through the steady build of her next climax. “you’re mine. all of you,”.

her body tightened around him as she came, mouth open in a silent cry, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as the pleasure rippled through her. he held her through it, cursed softly into her skin as he thrust through her release—and then he came too, hips stuttering, cock pulsing deep inside her as he moaned her name like a prayer.

they stayed like that—locked together, slick and shaking and breathless—until the world stopped spinning. his fingers traced patterns along her side, soothing and slow, grounding her again.

“you okay?” he murmured, voice gone rough from their activities.

she nodded, lips curling, eyes heavy with exhaustion and something sweeter. “more than okay,”.

he kissed her again—deeper this time, slower—and whispered against her mouth, “good. because i’m not done with you yet,”.

[gnoquisyqueso]

“Long Time No See” – Bang Chan x Reader

smut

idol!chan x fem!reader

summary: chan is desperate and horny after not seeing you for weeks because of his tour.

Word count: 1k aprox

warnings: sex after a long time; desperate fuck; oral (f); overstimulation (kinda); piv; no condom; creampie ; idk how this works kkk let me know if i missed something

notes: I've been with this idea since last fucking week and i loved it, it can be better? yes ofc, but for a first time writing smut? idk maybe its mediocre

I know i said i hate breeding but in this one its good... for the feelings yk? and its not explicit breeding, just a silly lil creampie

It starts the moment he walks through the door.

You barely get the chance to see his face before his arms are around you, hauling you against him like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. His suitcase clatters forgotten to the floor. You hear his breath catch as he buries his face in your neck.

“Fuck, I missed you…”

You don’t get to answer.

His mouth crashes into yours like a storm—hungry, bruising, devastating. There’s no buildup, no teasing. It’s pure need. Weeks of sleepless nights, rushed video calls, aching hard-ons with nothing but memories to jerk off to—he pours all of it into that kiss.

You moan into him, fingers fisting in his hoodie, and he growls low in his chest like it physically hurts him to be clothed around you.

“Off,” he mutters, tugging at your shirt, yanking it up and over your head without bothering to be gentle. His own hoodie’s discarded seconds later, revealing flushed skin and frantic muscles that twitch under your touch. “Need you now, baby. Can’t wait.”

You nod, breathless, dazed. “I missed you too—so much—”

He backs you toward the bedroom like a man possessed, lips glued to yours the entire way. When the backs of your knees hit the bed, he lifts you—just lifts you like you weigh nothing—and lays you down.

Then he drops to his knees.

No teasing. No words. Just his hands sliding under your thighs, dragging your hips to the edge, and yanking your shorts down in one swift, needy motion.

And then his mouth is on you.

You gasp, hand flying to his hair as his tongue finds your clit instantly, like he never forgot the exact way to ruin you.

He’s desperate. Sloppy. Loud.

Groaning into your pussy like he’s starved, like he’s making up for every day his mouth wasn’t on you. He licks in hard, hungry strokes, alternating between slow drags and quick flicks, lips sealing around your clit with obscene precision.

You cry out, legs twitching, hips grinding into his face without thought. He lets you. Encourages it.

“Yeah, fuck my face,” he growls against your cunt. “Been thinking about this every fucking night.”

His grip on your thighs tightens as he sucks harder, nose pressed right against you. You’re dripping, writhing, already teetering on the edge from how overwhelmingly good it feels.

You feel everything. The soft scrape of his stubble. The heat of his mouth. The filthy, wet sounds filling the room as he eats you like it’s his last meal.

“Chan—Chan, I—”

“You gonna cum for me already?” His voice is hoarse, wrecked with need. “Gonna let me taste it?”

You nod frantically, barely able to form words, and then you’re gone.

You cum with a sob, thighs clamping around his head as he licks you through it—refuses to let go, tongue working every pulse of your orgasm until you’re shaking and gasping for air.

He doesn’t stop.

You try to squirm away—too sensitive—but his arms lock you in place.

“Not done,” he rasps, tongue flicking your clit again with laser focus. “Need more.”

You whimper, body twitching, overstimulated and soaked, but he doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied—until you’re trembling under him and pulling at his hair like it’s the only thing grounding you.

Finally, he lifts his head, mouth and chin slick, eyes dark and fucking wild.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “So perfect.”

Then he’s standing, shoving his sweats down, cock already rock-hard and leaking. He fists himself once, twice, lining up with your entrance without a word.

You’re still twitching when he slides inside—slow, deep, and thick.

The stretch knocks the air out of you. Your back arches, mouth falling open as you feel every inch of him sinking into you.

“Shit—so tight,” he groans, voice cracking. “God, baby, I forgot how fucking good this feels.”

You moan his name, gripping his arms, and he starts to move.

The pace is devastating.

Not just fast. Not just deep. He’s fucking you like he’s trying to reclaim you. Like he needs to mark you from the inside out. His hips snap forward, hard and relentless, forcing your body to slide up the bed with every thrust.

“You’re mine, fucking mine” he growls, hands digging into your hips. “Say it.”

“Y-yours, Chan—”

He pulls out nearly all the way, then slams back in, hard.

“Again, say my name.”

“Mmh- B-Bang Chan—” You cry out, overwhelmed, brain barely catching up.

“Louder.”

"B-Bang Chan! I’m yours!”

The sound he makes is feral.

He leans down, one hand gripping your jaw, eyes locked to yours as he fucks you harder, deeper, his body practically welded to yours.

You’re a mess. Legs wrapped around him, nails dragging down his back, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from how intense it is. You’ve never felt this full. This owned.

You need him to cum.

“Inside,” you gasp. “Please—want it inside.”

“Yeah?” he pants, breath ragged. “Want me to fill you up?”

You nod, voice gone, and that’s all it takes.

He thrusts once, twice—then freezes, cock buried deep as his hips twitch and he groans so loud it rattles in your chest. You feel him release inside you, warm and thick, as your own climax rips through you in a messy, breathless crash.

For a long moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your heartbeats, the ragged breaths you share, and the soft, sticky slide of his cock still inside you.

Then he collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you, pressing his face to your neck as his arms wrap around you like he’ll never let go again.

“I love you,” he whispers. “More than anything. Missed you so fucking bad.”

You thread your fingers through his hair, chest still rising and falling in uneven waves.

“I love you too,” you whisper. “You’re home now.”

He pulls out slowly, groaning as he slips free, and immediately reaches down to gather his release leaking from you, pushing it back in with his fingers while you squirm.

“Gotta keep it all in,” he murmurs. “I meant every drop.”

You whine, overstimulated, and he kisses your forehead gently.

“Shh, I’ve got you.”

And he does.

Minutes later, he’s got you curled against him under the blankets, one hand stroking lazy circles into your back, the other laced with yours on his chest. Your thighs are sticky, your body sore, but you’ve never felt more loved.

Or more his.

Omgee my first fic!! I hope you like it!! I'm looking forward to starting to write here when I have time, I really don't know how to edit the profile well so it looks nice but I'll keep looking at it.

If you want you can leave requests, the groups I feel most familiar with are SZK, NCT, WayV and Ateez hehe. English is not my firts lenguage, i can understand it but sometimes when I write it there may be mistakes or some strange writing by the translator (as I am doing right now), I speak spanish, im from latinoamerica so if you want to say smth in spanish you are welcome ^^.

here is the translation:

nada básicamente este es mi primer fic jiji, espero que les guste, no soy muy buena escribiendo pero es algo que me gusta. Lo que decía antes es que no se muy bien como funciona tumblr ngl y no se muy bien como editar el perfil para que quede lindo, poner esos enlaces o como coño se hace una masterlist #help, pero bueno eso lo voy a ir viendo. Después dije que sí me quieren dejar un request lo pueden hacer tranquilamente, los grupos que seguro más escriba son skz, nct, wayv y ateez pero si me piden otro no hay drama soy multi stan y tmb de grupos femeninos lo que quieran.

El inglés no es mi primera lengua entonces seguro escriba mal en algunas partes o hayan oraciones que no tengan sentido pq usé el google translate ahre pero bueno.

Después voy a ver como pingo se edita el perfil kkk

[hummingbird24220]

OKOKKOKKKK WHAT IFFFFFF reader does something REALLY cringe (like junko posing or speaking in cursive) and zoro just....throws them off of the ship BUTTT everyone forgot that reader is a devil fruit eater so they actually start drowning and no one goes to save them until it's completely silent.. No spashes or nothing. and when someone brings them back on deck (preferably sanji) reader isn't breathing and they almost die. Uhhh sanji x reader if you can (mouth to mouth mayhaps????)

I LOVE YOUR WORKS I HAVE READ THEM ALL BTW ILY AND THE WAY YOU WRITE SANJI

yessssssssss i love a good junko pose. also THANK YOU, i worry Sanji is OOC sometimes but i suppose this is just my interpretation of the sexy man.

Its not as long as i would have liked, but i think it ended in a good place <3

Hope you enjoy!

Consequence of Cringe

Sanji x Reader

The sun was blazing, the sea was calm, and the Straw Hats were just trying to enjoy a peaceful afternoon.

Which, of course, meant the perfect time for you to strike.

You stood on the edge of the Sunny’s deck, one foot perched dramatically on a barrel, your long coat (absolutely unnecessary in this heat) fluttering in the breeze you summoned yourself using a hand fan. With a mischievous smirk, you threw your arms wide and struck the most flamboyant pose imaginable—one that Junko Enoshima would envy.

"Fools! You thought you could live in peace?!” you howled, spinning with over-the-top flair. “But this world is filled with despair! Misery! And bad fashion choices! I—" you twirled, then froze in another pose with a twisted grin—"—am your reckoning. Call me the Cringe King!"

Chopper blinked. “Is this a bit?”

Brook leaned over to Franky. “Yohoho... I can’t tell if they’re joking or actually possessed.”

Usopp was already hiding behind a barrel, muttering something about cursed performance art.

And Zoro?

Zoro didn’t even blink. He just grabbed you by the back of the collar mid-monologue, walked to the edge of the ship with the same casual energy as taking out the trash, and—

“Overboard.”

You screamed all the way down.

SPLASH.

Sanji, who had just walked out of the kitchen with a tray of drinks, frowned. “Huh? What was that?”

“Y/N,” Nami deadpanned, arms crossed.

“They were doing the thing again,” Zoro added with zero remorse.

“Fair,” Luffy said, chewing meat. “It was kinda weird this time.”

"Still," Robin mused, flipping a page of her book, "Zoro, didn’t you say they were a Devil Fruit user?"

There was a long pause.

“...Oh.”

Sanji blinked, the tray clattering to the deck as his brain connected the dots. “WHAT?!”

Heads snapped toward the railing.

No more splashing.

No more shouting.

Just... quiet.

Too quiet.

Sanji didn’t wait. He dove off the edge without another word, tearing through the water like a bullet. It didn’t take him long to spot you—limp, floating just beneath the surface like a broken marionette.

His heart nearly stopped.

“Nonono—come on, mon amour, don’t you dare—”

He grabbed you, dragged you back up, and kicked into overdrive, reaching the Sunny again in record time. The others helped pull you aboard, but you weren’t coughing, weren’t moving. Your eyes were shut. Lips blue.

Sanji dropped to his knees beside you, eyes wide with panic.

“Y/N?! Wake up!” He pressed his ear to your chest.

Nothing.

He cursed under his breath, tilting your head back and pinching your nose. “Come on, come on, s’il te plaît...”

And then—

Mouth to mouth.

He sealed his lips over yours, gently but urgently. One breath. Two. He pushed on your chest with shaking hands, then tried again.

The rest of the crew stood frozen in silence.

Then—

You choked.

Water shot out of your mouth as your body convulsed. You coughed violently, rolling to your side, gasping like you’d never tasted air before.

Sanji caught you before you could fall again, pulling you into his arms. His breath was shaky, his voice even more so.

“Don’t you ever do something that stupid again,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours.

You blinked up at him, dazed, then muttered hoarsely: “Was it... at least a good monologue...?”

Zoro groaned.

Luffy laughed.

Sanji just held you tighter.

You blinked up at the sky.

It was blue.

Too blue.

Everything ached. Your lungs felt like someone scrubbed them with sandpaper, and your throat burned like you’d gargled lava. Your clothes were soaked, your limbs heavy—and your dramatic monologue had been criminally underappreciated.

You groaned, flopping your arm over your face.

“Ughhh... What happened? I was in the middle of my villain arc...”

“You drowned,” Sanji’s voice snapped, tight and low beside you.

You peeked at him through your arm.

He looked pissed. Not annoyed. Not irritated. Genuinely pissed. His hair was dripping, jaw clenched, and shirt still clinging to him from the ocean water. But even through the tension, his eyes scanned your face like he was afraid you’d vanish if he blinked.

“Oh.” You blinked, then frowned. “Wait. Did I... seriously drown? Like, no flailing, no epic comeback—just ‘blub blub, Y/N go bye-bye’?”

“That’s not funny!” he snapped.

You flinched a little, guilt replacing the remnants of your dramatic flair.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He didn’t answer. Just stood up and walked off, muttering something about getting you dry clothes.

You sat up slowly, still wheezing. The crew had mostly dispersed, probably out of secondhand embarrassment. Brook gave you a thumbs up from across the deck. Chopper was pacing, clearly still shaken. Nami offered a little “Glad you're okay” before disappearing with a sigh. Luffy waved like you hadn’t almost died.

And Zoro...

Zoro stood nearby, arms crossed, trying really hard to look like he didn’t care.

“Tch. Should’ve sunk deeper.”

You turned toward him slowly.

Your eye twitched.

“Oh. Oh, you’re still here.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “What, you gonna monologue me again?”

“No,” you rasped.

Then you pulled your fist back—

AND FALCON PUNCHED HIM ACROSS THE FACE.

“YOU THREW ME OFF THE SHIP, YOU SOGGY SWORD-SWALLOWING GREMLIN!!”

Zoro actually stumbled. He took it like a champ, but there was definitely a red mark forming on his cheek.

“Hey! You survived, didn’t you?!”

“Barely!”

“You were doing the voice again!”

“That’s called art, you uncultured shrub!”

The two of you were mid-screaming match when Sanji returned, tossing a towel at your head.

“Y/N. Dry off. You’re not even wearing shoes.”

You caught the towel with a pout. “You’re all lucky I didn’t have a tragic backstory monologue lined up, too.”

“We are lucky,” Sanji muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “Wait, how did I even get out of the water? I can’t swim, remember?”

Everyone went awkwardly silent.

Zoro looked away.

Luffy scratched his head.

Chopper blinked. “Uhhh... you don’t remember?”

“No?”

Sanji turned around, waving a hand. “Doesn’t matter. You’re safe now.”

You stared at his back. Something in his voice was weirdly soft.

You tilted your head. “Did you save me?”

He paused.

Then he lit a cigarette.

"...Maybe."

You squinted. “You’re being weird.”

Sanji didn’t turn around. “You’re imagining things.”

Zoro rubbed his jaw, muttering, “He totally mouth-to-mouthed them.”

Your head whipped around. “Wait. WHAT?”

Sanji froze.

“Zoro,” he growled.

“What?” Zoro smirked. “Just saying. Bet your heart rate hasn’t dropped since.”

Sanji spun, ready to kick his head off, face flaming.

You?

You just turned beet red.

And then coughed violently because you forgot your lungs were still wrecked.

-

The ship had quieted down by the time you made it to the kitchen. Everyone was either napping, training, or still recovering emotionally from your full-blown theatrical disaster-slash-near-death-experience.

You were clean, in dry clothes, and still a little shaken—but mostly? Embarrassed. Painfully embarrassed.

Sanji stood at the counter with his sleeves rolled up, quietly chopping vegetables. He hadn’t said much since he saved you. Just made sure you were okay, made sure you didn’t die, and… avoided eye contact like he was the one who’d screamed despair-themed monologues.

“Hey,” you said softly, stepping into the kitchen.

Sanji didn’t turn around. “You shouldn’t be walking around yet, chérie.”

“I’m okay. Promise.” You sat on a stool at the counter, arms resting in front of you. “And… I wanted to say thanks.”

He finally glanced over, brows raised. You met his eyes, sincere this time. No dramatics, no posturing.

“Like. Actually. Thank you,” you said. “I’m really sorry for being a dumbass.”

Sanji tilted his head. “You weren’t a dumbass.”

You blinked.

He turned back to the cutting board. “Zoro was. He’s the one who threw you off the ship.”

You smiled a little. “Okay, yeah, true. But I kinda set the stage with my ‘despair and doom’ speech.”

He cracked a smile at that, just a little one.

“I should’ve taken it more seriously,” he said. “When you didn’t come up right away, I—” His voice caught in his throat. “—I thought we were gonna lose you.”

You stood quietly, heart softening at how his hands trembled ever so slightly around the knife. You walked around the counter and leaned against it beside him.

He stiffened as you gently took the knife from his hand and set it down.

Then you stepped close and rose onto your toes, brushing your lips softly against his cheek.

It was feather-light. Barely there.

But Sanji froze like you’d kissed him with fireworks and a confession.

You smiled. “I figured I owe you a kiss that isn’t tied to the worst moment of my life.”

He blinked, slow.

“You—you don’t owe me anything,” he said, voice cracking in disbelief. “I didn’t do that expecting—"

“I know,” you interrupted, smile still soft. “That’s why it means something.”

He turned toward you then, really turned—one hand reaching out hesitantly to brush your cheek, like you might disappear if he touched too hard.

You leaned into it.

“I thought I lost you,” he murmured.

“You didn’t,” you whispered. “I’m right here.”

Sanji’s thumb traced your jaw gently. “Can I—?”

You nodded.

This kiss was slower. Warmer. Still a little breathless, but not from drowning. From feeling.

When you finally pulled away, his cheeks were flushed, eyes dazed.

“Also,” you added, “you’re totally allowed to kick Zoro into the ocean next time.”

Sanji grinned, smug. “Gladly. Maybe I’ll wait until he’s mid-monologue too.”

You snorted. “He never monologues.”

“Exactly. It’ll really catch him off guard.”

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Please listen: A Mydai is the type of sexual partner who spits in pussy, who takes his time during cunnilingus to be begged faster, who leaves hickeys everywhere, who likes to fuck on weight, touch breasts, who bites our lips, practices dirty talk and loves when we sit on his lap,who sits on the throne when he gets sucked off and hardly moans, and after all this takes care of like a child..... fuck, I want him to eat me and fuck me into unconsciousness

YOU ARE LISTENED!!

He spread you out on the bed like something fragile, something sacred, but there was nothing gentle about the way his mouth crashed against your pussy. Mydei growled low in his throat, one hand locking your thigh down to keep you wide open, the other slipping under your ass to pull you even closer. His tongue licked a slow, lazy stripe up your folds, tasting you, savoring you, before spitting messily right onto your cunt, the slick sound making you whimper. He smeared it in with two fingers, groaning when he felt how wet you already were. His tongue followed right after, lazy and slow, deliberately too soft, lapping at you like he had all the time in the world.

You were panting, squirming under his hold, your fingers tangled in his messy hair, trying to grind against his face. He didn’t let you. He pinned you down harder, using his weight to control you, dragging your needy little sounds out of you one by one. "Pathetic," he rumbled against your pussy, voice low and dark. "Can't even sit still for me." His mouth sealed around your clit and sucked, just once, sharp and hard, making you cry out his name. His teeth grazed sensitive skin, playful but cruel. Your back arched helplessly off the bed, your thighs trembling, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as you begged, gasping out broken little pleads for more, faster, harder.

Only when you were sobbing, desperate, did he finally give in. Mydei shoved two thick fingers into your clenching hole, curling them up perfectly, and started to fuck you rough, wet, deep, while his mouth attacked your clit without mercy. You were gone. Your mind blanked out completely, broken moans spilling from your lips as your orgasm slammed into you, but he didn’t stop. His hand spread over your stomach, pinning you down, his entire body leaning into you, fucking you into the mattress with the weight of him. Hickeys were already blooming along your inner thighs, your hips, your soft stomach—bite marks where he couldn’t help but leave his claim. Your tits ached from where he squeezed them, rolled your nipples between his fingers earlier, rough and greedy, leaving you raw and aching for more even as your pussy clenched around his fingers.

"My Bunny," he rasped, breathless and wild, dragging himself up your body. His lips crashed against yours, biting down on your lower lip hard enough to make you yelp, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You could taste yourself on him. He was drunk on you, holding your face in his big hands, kissing you until you were sobbing into his mouth. "You're mine," he hissed against your lips, "my pretty princess, my baby. Gonna ruin you, break you, love you till you can’t think straight." He pulled back to stare down at you, watching the way your body trembled under his, your pretty eyes dazed and shining.

He wasn’t done. Mydei carried you like a doll to his throne, tossing you into his lap like you weighed nothing. His cock, heavy and throbbing, pressed up against your slick folds as he dragged you down onto him, inch by slow, brutal inch. He leaned back lazily, one arm thrown over the throne’s armrest, his golden eyes dark and lazy while he watched you struggle to take him all the way. You bounced helplessly on his cock, whining, your thighs already burning, and he barely even moaned—only low, rumbling growls deep in his chest. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you up and down like a toy, every few thrusts grinding you down hard enough to knock the breath out of you. He made you ride him until you were slurring, drooling, your pussy clenching desperately around him. Only then, only when you collapsed forward against his chest, whimpering like a broken thing, did he finally fuck up into you harder, using his strength, pounding into your soaked cunt until you passed out completely in his arms.

He caught you before you could fall, whispering soft praises into your hair. "Good girl... my sweet, precious girl... shh, I'm here, I've got you..." He pulled you into his lap tighter, wrapped in the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms. Carefully, he kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, murmuring, "I'll take care of you, baby. Always. You're safe with me." His cock still throbbed inside you, still twitching with the urge to breed you full, but he didn’t move yet. He just held you, rocked you, kissed every inch of your ruined, glowing body, and promised you all the filthy, endless love he could give.

[candyheartedchy]

I think what fascinates me about my ship between Ensign Coffey (my s/i) and Badgey is that both are on the same spectrum of personalities but on different levels at how they both act on feeling anger. Badgey was created to be a tutor to help people and be all smiles that being kicked and insulted made him snap. The moment he hurt his “father” triggered his rage, causing him to feed into it more and more and finding any excuse to go after Rutherford. Coffey is a yes-man in a way that she can’t bare to disappoint anyone and will bottle up all her frustrations and feelings to avoid hurting others. So one day at the verge of spiraling, she goes into the holodeck to scream out in rage, which sealed her fate for Badgey to show up.

I like to think he would sense a familiarity with her and first appears helpful in his usual programming, but the more the two interact he starts to let his anger slip here and there against his father, alerting Coffey a few times where she knows something is wrong and tries reaches out due to her own helpful nature of being a communications officer. So they both sort of dance around these similarities where Coffey doesn’t want to accept that she’s really angry from all the stress from her job while Badgey tries to persuade her to embrace this feeling like he has. But at the same time Badgey starts to become conflicted that someone doesn’t see him as a mistake/glitch since Coffey genuinely cares and listens to his advice, but also Coffey tries to convince him that being angry all the time will end up hurting him. So both are basically pulling each other back and forth in a tug a war type of way with a dash of “I can make him better” and “I can make her worse” that they find a weird comfort in each other. Coffey and Badgey both know she can be easily killed by him, but Badgey can’t help but melt at her tenderness behind close doors while Coffey slowly finds herself becoming more assertive around others because of him that whenever they both catch on these feelings, they pull away. But keep coming back because of the similarities.

[typingtess]

Kensi was sitting alone in their backyard. Well, not alone, Monty was resting at her feet. She was firmly in Los Angeles and a million miles away. She barely noticed when Deeks joined her. He was still wearing the dress shirt and pants from the suit he wore to Michelle's memorial service. She took her dark dress off the minute she walked into the house. She had an old black shirt and a pair of white running shorts. No shoes. It was time to touch grass.

They sat quietly for a long time. "What the worst thing you've ever seen?" Kensi finally asked.

"Nothing immediately comes to mind. Time with LAPD means seeing people at the worst moment of their lives. I saw a lot of that."

"We were living in Camp Lejeune. There was a training accident. Three Marines were killed. I saw the car pull up to a house a couple of doors down. Two Marines made the death notification. Mrs. Miller was six months pregnant with her third child. They had an eight-year and a three-year old. I was nine. My Mom just started crying in the living room. My Dad was fine – he wasn't part of the training exercise - but I never saw my Mom cry like that before."

"Probably thinking there but for the grace of God…"

"But I remember that. And I remember thinking about my Mom differently after that. She wasn't a crier. If she was sad, she'd go for a walk, she'd cook or play some of her favorite records. Play a little Celia Cruz and feel better. But this was different. There were some things that were just too awful for a walk or a deep cut on 'Son Con Guaguancó'."

Deeks saw his mother cry far too many times. She wasn't a crier either but when a grown man is beating the living hell out of you, the tears come.

"I've known Sam for almost 10-years. I've never seen him so lost, so…."

"Wounded."

"Good word. He's obviously keeping things together for his kids but they know."

"They probably don't. They're dealing with their own grief. I know the whole circle of life includes kids burying their parents but not this young and not this fast."

"What do you think they do next?"

"I don't know," Deeks answered honestly. "If anything ever happens to me, don't go back to work."

"Really?"

"Really. I want to see you on the other side but I'm more than willing to wait. Take the insurance payment, the LAPD pension money and be good to yourself and Monty," Deeks wanted that said because he had a feeling Sam Hanna will never forgive himself. He wanted more for Kensi.

"You don't think I can take care of myself at work without you."

"I have not a single doubt you can take care of yourself at work. I don't want you to have to. Find a nice place by the beach, or in the desert or anywhere where you can be you."

"I'm not me without you?"

"I'd never be me without you. The Sam we knew last Monday isn't the Sam we'll know going forward. Sam was with the SEALs for years, with NCIS for years but he thought he'd be with Michelle forever."

"Forever," Kensi nearly whispered.

"They probably had all these couples goals with Aiden going to Annapolis and Kam going to Keating. Time to live a little as empty nesters with no school drop-off or driving to and from school activities."

"I don't think Sam ever minded doing that stuff."

"I don't think that either. But after 18-plus years of their days being built around the kids' needs, Sam and Michelle were going to have their own time."

Kensi was quiet for a little while. "Anything you really want to do?"

"Get out of this shirt and these pants, figure out something to eat."

"Not today, big picture. Something you really want to do."

Deeks thought for a minute. "Honestly, find someplace quiet with you and Monty. Not answer the phone, not deal with the outside world. You, me, Monty, the beach or the mountains, I don't care as long as the outside world isn't part of it."

"Then let's find a place and book it. After the last few days, it's time to get busy living our lives."