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[sour-alien]

[cyan-glitter]

Devil's flower🍁

[bakerj-444]

home grown blueberry muffin 🫐🍃

[blunts-and-babes]

Sticky buns😌

[putridpride]

lemonage 🍋

[cupidsintern]

its so hot im gettin the california stickies

[skelly-words]

Witch's Garden Part 2

A couple ppl asked for this, so I made it real quick bc i'm not finished with anything else yet. This au was already cursed but now it's worse.

Go read Part 1 if you haven't already <3

tags- smut, tentacles/vines, ovi->hatching, aphrodisiac so non-con too? the witch is futa

wc- 1.2k

No minors, 18+ ONLY

The eggs kept warm in your pussy hatch several days before The Witch even remembers you're stuck in the rosehip bush. She needs shears to get you out. Even then, some of the vines encircling you have grown too strong and she doesn't bother cutting them. It's not worth the effort to totally free you, so she trims just enough to check your pulse and pry your trembling legs apart.

You whine as she stops you from rubbing your thighs together. Her eyes feel hot. You know she's staring at you even though you can't see it. Each egg has hatched into a thin tentacle, ending in a pulsing rosebud. The seedlings stretched and thickened, growing unnaturally fast. She could see your poor pussy could barely take it.

The plant doesn't have to feed you its sugary nectar so forcefully anymore. You slurp it off a dripping blossom whenever your mind gets a little too clear. It hangs above your lips, waiting for you to loll your tongue out and suck it off again. You're looking up but can't see the ceiling of the greenhouse through the vegetation. The Witch hasn't cut the vines milking your tits either, conveniently letting them continue to pinch and suck at your stiff nipples.

She lifts your hips up to prop you up on her thighs. It's difficult for you to make proper words, but you moan and buck weakly until she touches you. Her finger gently circles your slick entrance and loops up to your clit in a lazy figure-eight. The muscles in your cunt spasms and your thighs try to clamp shut on her hand, but her shoulders keep you spread open.

She settles her thumb on your clit, swirling around the button. Her other hand begins to pull out one of the tentacles. The first of many. It doesn't come free easily. The vine squirms in her grip in an attempt to rip free from her fingers.

You groan as the bloom slips out of you and she tosses it onto your stomach. It leaves stickiness in its wake, wriggling down your abdomen to latch its petals onto your clit. Her fingers dip back into your pussy to ease out the next seedling. Your mouth hangs open in a gasp as the pulsing vine massages your walls. The bud feeding you nectar takes advantage and shoves past your lips. You don't resist or complain, glad that it muffles all your whining.

The second vine winds itself around the others. It's firmly stuck inside you, using the knot of the other twisting tentacles as an anchor. You can feel them shift and rub on your insides. One of the buds still inside you is gently suctioned to your g-spot and it's making you see stars. The witch's grip tightens and she sits back on her heels to get the thing out. You're so wet. Pussy drooling down to gloss your puckered hole.

"Fuck," she grunts and finally, the vine pops free. "I should've pulled these weeds earlier."

You can feel her cock beneath her robes, twitching in frustration against your lower back. It throbs when you arch your spine to grind on it, hoping to tempt her into taking it out. A deep groan crawls from her throat as her hips rut weakly. She barely moves, but you can feel as the girthy outline of her dick drags between your asscheeks.

The newly freed vine twirls itself around her wrist. It stays, cuffing her arm as she yanks on another. The blossom on your clitty suckles and tugs until it's swollen. It gives a couple throbs of warning then you're cumming. Cream drips out of you as your cunt spurts juice down your legs. The vine loudly squelches when it comes loose. Your gaping hole flutters as the sensitive edges squeeze nothing.

You're given a couple seconds to catch your breath. She tentatively swipes the rosebud through your slit. A translucent film of your slick coats the head as she guides it down. The thing thrashes in her grip, fighting to dive back into your sloppy pussy. She tosses it aside and resumes her task.

She pulls over a dozen of those slippery vines out. The discarded seedlings take turns sucking your clit or putting hickeys on your skin. A couple of them wander a bit low and nose at your fluttering asshole. You're already lubed up for the eager buds. They slip in easily once their syrup starts to ooze down your skin. You grind on her cock the whole time. All your mess has soaked through the layers of her robes.

There are only a few vines left inside you, tucked so deep in your cunny that her fingers can't reach. She shoves her middle finger as deep as it can go and tries to coax one out. None of the tendrils take the bait, staying tightly coiled against your cervix.

You can feel them in your guts, rearranging as she presses a palm into the flesh of your tummy. That's all it takes for you to cum, adding more glaze to your inner thighs. She drags a finger through the middle to give it a try. And you taste sickeningly sweet. Laced with the same aphrodisiac that the rosehips keep pumping into you.

It makes her unfold the front of her robes and rub her palm over her flushed tip. She's so close to the edge, leaking a river of pre-cum from her cockhead. Her bottom lip is tucked under her incisors to keep her moans in. She quickly lines up her fat tip and thrusts in. Your pussy is greedy, taking every aching inch as she pushes her hips flush to the backs of your thighs.

Her cock barely pulls out before she's bullying it deeper into your oversensitive pussy. The vines still stuck curl tightly around her dick. They spiral to form thick ridges up the length. One of the tendrils winds higher, slipping out of you, and chokes her heavy balls. Her angry cock rams into you over and over as the tightness keeps her from cumming. If she were to pull out now, the starter plants would be successfully removed, but there's not much she can think about besides getting off. The tentacles must be intent on torturing her. They stroke her swollen shaft as she pounds into you, but never let a drop of cum spill out.

"Please, please, please." You hear The Witch whine, words slurring together as her thrusts get rushed and sloppy. She's desperate for her release.

Your legs start to go numb from being thrown around her shoulders for so long. She doesn't let up, using you until the vine that's edging her decides to loosen. Her cock pulses inside you before bursting.

Warm sticky semen pours into you, squeezed from her spurting tip as her hips snap forward. The vines finish milking her dry, filling you up with her own seed. She refuses to pull her dick out, plugging her cum inside with the fat knot of vines cinched around her base.

She keeps you like that for what feels like hours. Your cunt weakly clenching around her the whole time. She'd beaten it into a puffy mess and your short orgasms shoot through you like electric shocks. Two small blooms still plug your ass, butt staying stuffed even as she starts to twist and ease her cock out. Her opalescent spend comes out in gushes each time your muscles tens. The new propogations have all been removed and she lets them play with your pussy and tits some more as she clears the remaining vines.

A/N- masterlist if you want more of my work <3

[sugarbcnes]

— “well? dig in!” ★ MUNCHIES 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗆𝗌

cw: loser + stoner ellie. mean gf femme reader. groping. pretty much just food play. praise. ellie is a messy bitch but a munch nevertheless. obvious wlw themes. weed. high key this is so unhygienic. heavily unedited. lowercase intended. drabble don’t like it? don’t read.

“y’so handsy.”

ellie looks like a dog. a desperate puppy with her mouth hanging open on a hot day.

her chin digs into your shoulder and her free hand that isn’t holding her messily-rolled joint is grabbing at your breast like they’re going to run away. they had already spilled from their black, lacy cups the second you leant back in between ellie’s thighs, allowing her fumbling hands to grasp what they needed to keep her grounded.

“ow!” you wince as she lands a particularly hard bite on your shoulder.

“sorry, baby,” she apologizes sheepishly, grinning lazily as her lashes flutter to shade her green eyes. they look up at you, red and hazy, “i’m hungry.”

“yeah,” you mumble, standing up and tossing your bra to the floor, “i can fucking tell.”

you waltz over to her fridge, feeling the way her eager eyes burn holes through your underwear.

you scoop up an assortment of ingredients, not really taking notice of them until they’re laid out on the coffee table, her bowl and papers pushed to the side.

you roll your eyes at the sight of her lazily laid back against the arm of her sofa. she props herself up on one arm, her jeans already unbuttoned and white tanktop riding up to reveal her wispy auburn happy trail.

her eyes widen as she spots the food on the table and she freezes for a moment.

“well?” you stand with your hands on your hips, “dig in!”.

yeah. ellie thought. i’m going to dig in, alright.

“lay down.”

you turned to look up at her from your position of bending to pick your bra up.

“what?”.

she stares at you blankly, sitting up now with her hands hanging between her knees.

“leave the bra and lay down on the couch. face up.”

you squint at her, suspicion crawling over your expression as you move to lay down across from her, shifting the cushions and throws to get comfortable.

she pulls off her tanktop, slowly crawling up your body in just her sports bra and unbuttoned jeans until she’s face to face with you.

“you comfy?” she whispers against your lips. she smells of hemp, champagne and the musky incense burning on the side table.

you nod and she messily presses a kiss to your lips, getting a good handful of your tit in her hand. she savors the way you gasp into her mouth, back arching into her touch. she chuckles lowly.

you watch curiously with bruised lips and hooded eyes as she grabs a strawberry and the bottle of honey. she takes a bite of the strawberry, placing it to the side and chewing as she opens the lid.

“wha- ah!” you gasp as the cold honey hits your nipple, the syrupy gold liquid slowly dripping down your rib cage, “ellie!”.

she grins and leans down, her eyes never leaving yours as she swirls her tongue around your hardened bud. her hands grip your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your hip bones.

she collects the syrup on her taste buds, moaning as she finally takes your whole nipple in her mouth, doing her best to suck everything off.

“fuck,” you hiss as she releases it with a pop. the skin swells slightly and she grins, knowing a hickey will form there.

this feels like a fever dream, your mind blurry as she flattens her tongue on your skin and follows the sticky trail down to your navel.

“having fun there?” you manage to choke out, hands subconsciously tugging at the hair that lays by the nape of her neck.

she smirks lazily, collecting the sweet remnants on two of her fingers and bringing them to your face.

“have a taste, baby.”

you eye her down before slowly opening your mouth a little, letting her shove her fingers in. she moans at the warmth, your saliva coating her fingers as she sinks two slender digits in until you’re gagging on them knuckle deep. she feels herself getting irritable, her boxers now wet and uncomfortable.

“that’s it,” she whispers, looking down the bridge of her freckled nasal at you, “good fucking girl.”

she pulls them out and your hole clenches at the sight of your spit leaking down the veins in her hands and wrists.

after wiping her hand clean, she turns back to the coffee table.

you feel dizzy, trying to process the sensuality of what just happened to the point you hadn’t even noticed ellie tug your panties to your ankles.

she giggles slightly as your hips jump at the feeling of her nose bumping your puffy clit. you forgot she was high.

“ellie, i swear to god- fuck!”

you hear it before you even feel it. the slight hissing sound and then the feeling of the cold whipped cream swirled in perfect little mountain on your mound.

she ogles it, proud of her creation before she’s got her whole mouth on your pussy.

your jaw slacks and your mouth falls open yet your brain short circuits, failing to produce any sounds.

“mmm” she hums, lips smacking as she pulls off, “fuck yeah.”

ellie’s long fingers wrap around your ankles, the anklet she got you for your anniversary jingling in her ear as she raises them up, pressing your knees toward your chest.

you cry out as she latches onto your throbbing clit, tongue plunging deep into your hole to taste the main treat. you grip her hair, forcing her face into as if it were even possible for her to be any deeper inside you. trying your best to remember curtesy and your elderly neighbors, you chew on your bottom lip until it’s beaded raw and puffy. your mind goes misty, already hazed from how much you smoked and the spot ellie was repeatedly hitting with her tongue.

your orgasm is accompanied by a string of curses and white vision as your saccharine juices coat ellie’s chin and lips. your limbs twitch, toes curling as you struggle to grab onto any remaining strings of sanity let alone your own breath.

she gives you a lopsided smile and flops back against the sofa, rubbing your thigh tenderly just the way you liked.

“that was like— munchies but on steroids, babe.”

that was the last you heard of her ramble before you fell asleep. god, she was such a fucking weirdo.

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[baurbiediv]

silk press

rafe cameron x black!gf

content warning: smut (wrap b4 u tap) use of “mama” like twice, go read the rest, i don’t wanna spoil it pookie

authors update: yooo, this shit is NOT proofread, if you see any mistakes mind your businesssss!!! 😭😭 mdni!!

the sound of drake’s ‘cameras/good ones do interlude’ could be heard over the sounds of heavy panting, the smell of weed filling the air along with your soft whimpering, “r-rafe.. s-stop you’re gonna mess up my h-hair-“ you breathed out, hand faintly tapping on his lower stomach. but before another word could escape your lips, rafe grabbed your chin, shutting you up.

“move your hand away from my stomach or i’ll stop.” you quickly moved your hand as you gripped onto his arm for dear life. so now here you were, getting your shit pounded in cause someone couldn’t control himself, it amazed you how this man had you folded in half like a pretzel, your legs were almost pressed into your chest, knees shy of being able to touch your chest thanks to rafe’s big hands, his nails digging into the skin on your thighs. rafe pushed your dress further up your stomach, wanting nothing more than to be closer to you.

but what what more could this man have possibly wanted? he was balls deep inside of his beautiful girlfriend, watching her eyes threaten to roll to the back of her head, the small necklace he bought you with his initial ‘r’ studded in diamonds, placed perfectly on your chest, just the sight of that had his dick growing hard inside of you. rafe’s hand snakes down and pressed down onto your stomach, causing a loud moan to rip from your lips, rafe’s arm just seemingly wasn’t enough for you, he was quite literally fucking you dumb. his hips ramming into the plush of your ass. “you feel me right there?” he asked as he grabbed your hand, pressing your hand down on the bulge. thank god for this empty lot covered in trees or this would’ve been a real nasty sight to see. rafe’s blacked out jeep with the passenger door open, your feet sitting pretty on his shoulders, his hand holding the nape of your neck, a mix your cum and his from previous orgasm spilling out of you and creating a sticky white ring around the base of his dick.

rafe kept an arm extended around the nape of your neck, keeping your head upright. he loved when he had you like this, melting under his touch. “hey,” he said, snapping his fingers in front of your face. your eyes were threatening to close on him as you felt the tip of your orgasm on your tongue, “i need you to keep those pretty brown eyes on me mama, you hear me?” you nodded, as you did your best to keep your eyes open just like he asked you to, but of course he made that impossible, because you felt the calloused fingertips of his ring and middle finger rubbing on your swollen clit. your mouth fell open as he caught notice of this “shhh, i got you, i got you.” he whispered as he leaned in closer to you, opening your legs wider, allowing him to shove his dick deeper into you. his fingers sped up on the swollen bud, not letting up.

your moans progressively getting louder and louder, the only way of shutting you up was rafe lightly squeezing your neck, his lips ghosting yours, “if you make one loud fucking noise, you risk getting us caught, you don’t want that do you?” he asked, you shook your head almost instantly, you really did try your hardest to pay attention to what he was telling you, but you couldn’t. he looked so good, sweat covering his forehead, neck and chest. his gold chain resting nicely on his chest as it shined under the dim light of the car, along with that god forsaken black tank top, but you nodded along to his words not thinking anything of it, your legs started shaking, your stomach feeling funny.

rafe’s dick was hitting all the right places, he had your your toes curling, “s-shit rafe s-low downn!!” you squeaked out, his movements never halting, “i-i’m gonna c-cum!!” you arched your back off the seat, rafe smirking, “i got you, come on.” he said, rubbing your clit faster, applying more pressure. your hand flew to his stomach as your juices splurted over his fingers, his abs and lower stomach and dick. your body fell back against the seat, your thighs feeling sticky, “hey that was cute and all but i’m still not done.” rafe mutters before pulling out of you, you whine from the lost contact, and before you know it he’s pulling your legs further out of the car and flipping you over onto your stomach, “r-rafe baby there’s no room-“, you were cut off before rafe’s pushing his dick back into your sensitive pussy, his left hand pushed down on your back to deepen your arch as much as he could while his right hand made its way back to your hair, “i don’t care,” he moaned loudly pushing your head further down into the seat, the sound of your ass clapping against his stomach has rafe’s head going crazy.

you poorly attempted to cover your mouth, whines slipping out occasionally, this all he wanted. you placed your hand on the console for support. this was all he ever wanted, he was able to fuck his pretty girl, y/n, and he in fact he believed she was prettiest girl on kildare and he knew he wanted you the minute he spotted you at the country club with your family. and what happened? he got exactly what he wanted, he was a smooth talker and he talked his way right a relationship with you, and this was the outcome.

your hand of course made its way back to his stomach, this time removing his hand from your head and pinning your wrist down onto your back, your whimpers grew louder, “rafe, it’s t-too muchhhhh” you whined, “that’s okay, you can do it, i-i’m close..” he groaned loudly, hearing him panting behind you, his hips hitting harder and deeper, you felt the familiar feeling of your pussy squeezing around him. “where do you want me?” he breathed, squeezing the skin of your hips, your overstimulation pushing both you and rafe to the edge. “inside p-please,” you whimpered out feeling hot spurts of his cum shoot inside your pussy. rafe pulled out of you, your hips jerked and your legs shook a little. he pulled his boxers and nike sweats back up as he presses a kiss against your lips before smiling. he closed your car door before making his way to the passenger side. you slowly closed your legs as you sat up looking for your black thong, “first you fuck up my silk press then you steal my thong??” you huff.

“‘m sorry baby, i’ll pay for you to get your hair done again and who cares about that stupid thong, i’ll buy you 10 more, how does that sound?” he looked over at you, as he sat back in his seat. your arms were crossed but you couldn’t help the smile that was evident on your face.

he leaned over the console, “gimmie a kiss.”

he said, you obliged and leaned over and kissed his lips.

“i love you y/n.” “i love you more rafey.”

did you guys miss me?? 😏

[forsworned]

DREAM BLUNT ROTATION ft. HIGHAF!POLY141

Synopsis: Silly 141 getting high with reluctant but experienced reader, happy belated 420 yall

Warning(s): Drug Use, Poly!141, AFAB!Reader, Sexually Suggestive?? Barely Proofread (i'm dyslexic sorry)

"This is an awful idea..."

Kyle's tone is halting as he observes the way, Johnny begins to pick apart the large bud of weed and spreads it out on the rolling papers that Simon purchased not too long ago. Simon wouldn't say where he pawned off the necessary ingredients for a good blunt, and neither he nor Johnny were going to ask.

"Don't be such a wet blanket, Kyle." Simon quips at the uneasy Sergeant.

Johnny snorts as he brushes off the stickiness of the bud and the aroma is rich, sweet, and pungent as it fills the Lieutenant's dorm. If they received any disciplinary action, Simon would take the fall (which was mighty presumptuous of him being that all the resin glands were on Johnny's fingertips, but they digress).

"Ease off on him, L.t.. He's the teacher's pet amongst us, like." Johnny winks at Kyle.

Kyle's face contorts in disgust and betrayal. "Piss off, MacTavish."

This sends the troublesome pair into a fit of giggles, but suddenly the door opens and they're all jostled by the new company. You freeze as you look at the three bozos lounging around in Simon's room. Crushed-up cans and empty bottles of ale were tossed around the room, half a eaten pizza left out on the coffee table where Johnny was busy rolling up a joint.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Your tone is exasperated and beyond wanting to comprehend why in the entire fuck they were deciding to roll up in the Lieutenant's room.

"Why." It wasn't even a question. You really just demanded an answer at this point.

"I didn't—" Kyle is the first to open his mouth, but you close your eyes and hold your hand up to stop him. You shake your head and then sharply exhale as you shut the door behind you.

"Good girl." Simon sarcastically praises as you wordlessly sit next to Kyle.

Johnny giggles at the way your cheeks puff up in embarrassment as you tuck in your legs and lean comfortably to the side.

"Fuck you." You spat at him. "I could have you reported."

"Under what jurisdiction?"

You sit there with a disgruntled expression on your face and you're aware of the smug look that hides behind his stupid balaclava-clad face. Johnny isn't even high yet, but he's giggling like a maniac at everything Simon says. It's the thrill of getting caught red-handed with contraband and bloodshot eyes that makes him lightheaded and giddy. Not that they were bound by any real-world laws or regulations because the 141 operated outside the chain of command, but Price finding out would certainly be a damper in their mood.

But your frown turns into an evil simper. "I'll tell, Price."

And the mood drops for a moment, but Simon loves to challenge you. It's practically etched into his DNA to rile you up in any way he can.

"Go ahead, ducky."

"Don't call me that."

And Simon's hit a nerve, but that all seems to dissipate as soon as Johnny places the rolled-up joint between his lips and sparks up. The first sweet inhale relaxes every rigid nerve in the Scotsman's body as he passes it off to his Lieutenant and leans against the wall. Simon lifts his mask and your jaw ticks at his exposed flesh. His lips are a pretty pink that wraps around the spliff, before toking the absolute fuck out of it and holding it in before exhaling it out through his nose.

The pair exchange a look before nodding and grinning at each other. "Tha's good shit, maaate."

"C'mon, Kyle." Simon coos, beckoning him over. Kyle moves ever so slightly in his direction, but your hand grasps his wrists halting him back.

"Oh, come now, [name]. Don' be uptight. 's all good vibes round 'ere." The masked idiot smirks at you before passing it off. Kyle glances over at your disapproving stare before hesitantly taking a hit. It doesn't even take a second before he's coughing his lungs out and Simon and Johnny are cackling, keeling over on the tiny bunk. You think it may break under their weight at any given moment, but that's just wishful thinking.

"That's not how you do it, Kyle." You chide, seizing the joint from him and you're drawing in the smoke yourself as you demonstrate the proper way of inhaling it. Simon and Johnny go silent as they observe you clearly very shocked by your sudden volunteer.

"Gotta hold it properly." You bring the joint to your lips, comfortably positioning it between your fingers. "Don't inhale too quickly, or you'll cough your lungs out like you did just now. Take your time and hold it before releasing it, slowly." You indicate to him once more and the THC unravels months of built-up tension embedded in your body now that you got a proper hit.

You peer down at the spliff as you exhale the smoke. "Damn, that's good shit. Where did you twats get this?" Chuckling a bit at your usage of their own slang on them.

"Though' we were pourin' poison in the well, but the water is already spiked, it seems." Simon is lying back against the wall, propped up on his elbow with one leg flat and the other is bolstered up. He's relaxed as hell, surveying you like a cat as his tail swishes around with piquing interest. And Johnny is like his orange cat counterpart, licking his paws and rubbing his head as they lounge together on cloud nine.

"Mmm, she's always been like that. Naughty lassie." Johnny teases as he moves closer to you. He's sitting on your right as he eyes the way Kyle successfully follows your directions.

"Aye, tha's a good lad." Johnny praises, rubbing his thigh and Kyle is blinking up at him with hazy, honeyed eyes.

And for some reason you're taking offense to that. "Hey what about me?" You pout at him.

And he's beaming when his baby blues flicker to you. Calloused palm flattening against the expanse of your exposed flesh, riddling your thigh with gooseberries. There is a slight snatch in your breath as he caresses you but you don't move away and it's quickly starting to feel a little heavy as you feel everyone's eyes on you.

But before your body can even react, the door is getting barged into and there stands a very irate Price who literally looks like steam is pouring out of his ears. And just when you think that you're all about to get your asses handed to you, Price plucks the spliff from Kyle's fingers, opens the window and everyone is clamoring to rise from their seats thinking that he's going to toss it out. But you're all dead wrong.

My mans is taking the biggest puff out of all four of you before he jovially steeps the smoke out of his nostrils and he's nodding in approval, "Aye, tha's good shit."

There's a collective sigh of relief that settles upon the 141 before Simon speaks.

"Christ, Boss, least warn us."

"Thought y' were gonna bite o'r heads off." Johnny leans against the window sill, left of his Captain.

Price chuckles as he takes another brief toke before passing it off to Simon who was on his right.

"I should've, you lot were gonna finish it before I even got a toke."

Simon gazes over at you from where he's posted, inhaling the last few hits of the blunt, but you and Kyle are fucking zooted. I'm talkin heads rolled back against the couch cushions and you're gone.

And he is choking on the smoke as he laughs at the both of you before Johnny and Price glance over and join him. Their giggles attract your hazy attention and you lazily toss a pillow at the back of Johnny's head. But then you're cowering away as he approaches you in a jokingly menacing manner, wrapping his arms around you like he's about to perform a tickle attack.

The sound of your stomach growling rips through the silliness and he pouts at you and rubs your belly.

"You hungry, ducky?" Price is towering over you from behind the couch you are situated at, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear and you feel your cheeks warming up at your Captain's sedative voice.

You nod at him with a giddy smile, and before Price even opens his mouth Kyle is pulling up his Uber Eats app to order everyone's go-to Chinese take-out meals.

And as Price is extolling his Sergeant by lightly massaging his shoulders, Simon is taking your chin between his fingers and tilting his head at you.

"Y'got everyone at y'r beck an' call, ducky." But the nickname no longer has its previous bitterness. It's replaced with endearment as he pinches your cheek and that draws out a smile from you.

"Didn' know ye were s'experienced." Johnny's warm breath fans over your neck and you're starting to feel a buzz that's reminiscent of your uni days.

You hum in response as you feel Price's fingers gently scratch at your scalp, and there's a gentle euphoria that warms you to your bones.

"Quit yappin' her ear off." Price scolds the two, but something about the way you're being simultaneously taunted and dotted over is starting to ignite a bit of desire within you.

You shut your eyes and all your senses feel elevated as you're being coddled on all sides. And as much as Simon loves getting under your skin, there is something about the way you're blissfully sitting there not having a care in the world as everyone trills around you.

"Like a kitten." He warbles, caressing your cheek and you lean into his touch.

"A very cute kitten." Johnny nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck as his fingers brush against your knee. A giggle leaves your lips and you're squirming away from his ticklish stubble.

But every way you're moving, you're in the hands of a different man who's relishing in your coquettish behavior. It's overstimulating really. So, the minute you hear wrapping at the front door you're jumping out of your seat to check out who's behind the peephole.

But it feels like a slo-mo scene as you're running away from the giggly, dazed men who follow closely behind you. By the time you're reaching the door, Johnny has already tripped over the end table, Simon is heaving for air and slipping over the barstools in the kitchen in a loud clatter, Price is attempting to help them both up but can't stop laughing his ass off and Kyle, well, mans is passed out on the couch with his mouth wide open.

You can hardly even contain yourself as you open the door, and the delivery man on the other side is flummoxed yet amused at the men in the background and then there was you. Giddy as hell, palms facing up with the most bloodshot eyes.

And before he can even get a word out, Johnny is wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you back to the couch while Price is sending him off with a wad of cash as he grabs the food.

"Chattin' up the delivery lads, aye?" Johnny teases, as he pulls you into his lap and begins to tickle you. The smell of food is waking Kyle up from his little half-baked nap and he's ruffling your hair as food is being passed out.

"She doesn't need to bother. She's too fit for that." Kyle opens up his kung pao chicken and the smell floods into your nostrils, but he's already on it. "Say 'ahh'." He lifts the chopsticks to feed you the delicious morsels and you happily accept it with a jubliant hum.

"Spoiled little thing." Price chirps as he shoves his lo mein into his mouth. The sauce coats the corners of his mouth and the ends of his stache.

"An' who's fault is that?" Simon gestures at his Captain with his chopsticks. It was true. As their Captain, naturally, they fell in line behind him, so when they saw how he would pamper you excessively they would do it too. And not because of the fact that they were good little soldiers, but because it opened the doorway for them to openly chat you up or (consensually) feel up on you.

Price lets out a hearty laugh. "Ah, bullshit! The minute you lot clocked the opportunity to grab her, you were all over it!"

Johnny licks his lips as you feed him a crab rangoon. "Can ye blame us?"

You quickly cover his mouth with your hand and scrunch your nose up at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full, Johnny!"

He playfully nibbles at your hand and you're then being scooped up by Kyle, who is more than happy to accept your weight in his lap. And Johnny is moaning about how you're being stolen away.

"She's not being swiped if she's scarpering off by herself!" Kyle laughs as he's swatting away any attempts at Johnny trying to confiscate you back.

So, of course, Price wants to dig his heels into Simon when he sees how lackadaisical he is.

"Simon couldn't pull her even if he gave it a good go."

Dark, piercing eyes dangerously flicker to the smug Captain who lays back against the arm chair, sipping on his ale and waits as he takes the bait. One thing that Simon doesn't like is when someone's threatening his hold on his position in any type of situation that especially being you.

"I don't need t'bother." He retorts, taking a sip of his own drink as he man spreads on the sofa.

"Oh, and why's that?" Price is intrigued now. Simon narrows his eyes at him but continues to stuff his face with food, sticky bits of rice garnish the sides of his mouth. This doesn't stop the Captain from pressing the matter and it's now starting to capture your attention as Johnny misses your mouth when he attempts to feed you some stir fry and it stains for your cheek instead.

But Simon is effortlessly patient and cool as a cucumber when he's being dogged on by everyone now, and you're observing the situation closely. He carefully wipes his mouth with a napkin, takes a last swig of his drink before he gets up to clean up after himself. And Price is almost convinced that Simon has given up as used, balled up napkins are being tossed at him by Johnny and Kyle, but in one swift movement you're being tossed over the behemoth's shoulder. A squeak barely manages to escape you as he pats your ass and the others are scrambling to get you as they playfully jest at Simon.

"Ah, no fair!" Johnny tugs at Simon's waistband, and lets go with a loud snap to his pelvis.

"Unhand her!" Kyle laughs as he tries to grab your foot, but he's only left with your ankle sock.

And while those two idiots finally gather themselves to give in to chasing after him, Simon is booking it to his room, and Price is left cackling on the armchair enjoying the rest of his meal.

"Simon!" You giggle, as he's enforcing the door and locking it with one arm as you barely dangle off his shoulder.

He balances you out just for a moment before he tosses you onto his bed and successfully turns the lock. Johnny and Kyle's shouting can be heard on the other side of the door, but Simon doesn't seem to give two fucks as he's approaching you. You're laid out on his bed, cheeks flustered when he towers over you, grasps your wrist, and raises them above your head.

And as his lips are hovering above yours the door is getting busted into as Simon is getting tackled to the floor as the Sergeants hold him down. Your eyes ream at the little giggly clusterfuck, and then in strolls Price who sits on the end of the bed and scoops you into his arms. You feel dizzy in his warmth as you snuggle against him and he kisses the top of your head.

You begin to realize something while you watch Simon turn into a cackling mess as he's being simultaneously tickled mercilessly by Johnny and Kyle. Price has a triumphant smile plastered on his face. It creeps up slowly on you, but he had succeeded in properly baiting all three men, so he could get his way with you.

His azure hues shift to you and he's kissing your cheek. It makes your heart flutter, but you're shaking your head at him when he's gazes down at you with that impish expression.

"Naughty little minx." You wave your finger at him with a bubbly smile. And he's hiding his face in the crook of your neck, tittering away because he knows he's been caught red-handed.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

I'd hate myself if I didn't do something for Valentine's day so we're going to pretend it's not the day after!!! 🎀🎀

If nobody else is gonna bring back smoking during sex then goddamn it I will

STAINED RED

Valentines day with Daryl Dixon, your own way.

Happy Valentines Day - D.D

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You hummed to yourself as your hands brushed and curled your hair, making sure it looked just right for the night ahead. It was Valentine's day and you so badly wanted to celebrate it with Daryl, which is why you had planned the romantic night the day that Eugene had made the announcement that the holiday was in a week. It gave you enough time to find and decide on what to get him, stumbling upon a department store on one of your secret runs.

The first half of his gift was a red button-up to match the other half, which was the skimpy party dress you had on, one you knew would drive him insane. You also made him a card with crayons, considering the two of you didn't talk much about gifts.

Standing in front of the full body mirror, running your hands down your sides as you turned around, checking yourself out. The way the dress hugged your hips, complimented by the heels you had on, fuck you turning yourself on.

The oven timer went off downstairs, and you quickly dragged some lipstick over your plush lips, a dark red in contrast to the lighter fabric. Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you carefully went down the stairs, grabbing the oven mitt and opening the oven, poking the meat with a knife.

Daryl was supposed to be coming any minute, agreeing to get ready at Carol's house so the two of you would keep your clothes on.

The table was already set and the scent from some of the candles set a warm ambiance, the added smell of cooked venison. You cut the meat into slices, plating the thick pieces next to some mixed vegetables and a scoop of mashed potatoes, topped with brown gravy.

You poured two cups of wine and tuned the ratty radio until it landed on a smooth jazz station. As you did that, the front door creaked open and you turned to see Daryl, heart pounding as he looked so damn good in red. "Hot damn girl" He whispered breathlessly, closing the door behind him as he stepped forward, placing a hand on your waist as his eyes raked your whole body. "Could say the same for you, handsome" You giggled and Daryl's heartbeat stopped for a second, your smile standing out much more with the lipstick. "What'cha hidin?" Your eyes flickered down to his one hand behind his back. He smirked and revealed a large black bag.

He handed it to you silently, watching your face contort as you opened it and were hit with an intense smell of weed, the smell immediately filling the room. "Where did you-?" You walked over to the counter and pulled a sticky bud out, heels clacking as you fished around for something to smoke with. "I still wanted ta get ya some flowers, but I found flower instead" Daryl eyed the plates of food but moved his gaze up to your figure, licking his lips as he once again drank in the sight of you in that dress.

The feeling of rolling the bud pieces into a thin piece of paper was one you truly missed, dragging your tongue across the edge and pinching it shut, turning to Daryl with the newly rolled joint hanging from your lips. He fished out the lighter that he always kept on him and held your hip as he held it, watching you take a deep, long pull before plucking it out your mouth, coming close to Daryl as if to kiss him, blowing the smoke past his parted lips then holding the joint up to them.

"The food is getting cold" You whispered, watching him take a long drag of his own before pulling the joint away, the dining room becoming hazy with smoke. "Microwave 'em real quick" Daryl mumbled, taking another hit before you snatched it out his mouth, sticking it in your own and turning to heat the food up. "Sit down, Dixon" You slammed the microwave door shut and started it for a few minutes, heels clicking as you walked over to Daryl and straddled his lap, taking a finally hit before dropping the butt onto the floor, stomping it out as you pulled Daryl by his collar and clashed your lips together, exhaling the smoke into his mouth along with the air, kissing his jaw and neck as he coughed. "Ya smearin' yer lipstick" Daryl cleared his throat as you looked at him, dark lipstick in fact smeared onto your cheek. It was worth it, considering Daryl's skin was littered in red kiss marks.

You gave him one final kiss, going to retrieve the plates of food out the microwave. As the weed was really starting to flow through your system, your stomach rumbled as the smell of meat filled the air again, not strong enough to over power the joint.

Daryl wondered how he got so lucky with you each time he ate your food, the taste even better with his heightened senses. "M'gon marry you" He spoke around a mouthful of potatoes, staring at you with lidded reddening eyes. You leaned your head against your hand as you ran your heel up his shin. "Dude, we're like, already married" You laughed while finishing off your vegetables, stuffing a piece of venison into your mouth. Your heel kicked his shin, trailing up it a few time before Daryl reached and blindly yanked it, lurching you forward into the table and knocking over the forgotten wine glasses.

“This was supposed to be romantic” You pounded your fists on the table, not actually angry. Daryl shrugged, teeth pulling at a tougher piece of meat. “Still romantic just in our own way. Ya did real good gorgeous” He leaned back in the chair as he winked at you, undoing the first few buttons of that sinful shirt. You suddenly remembered you didn’t have on any underwear, cunt starting to throb. “M’gonna roll another” You gathered the fallen cups and your empty plate as you did, taking Daryl’s and snagging his last piece. He couldn’t argue, not with the way your legs moved and your hips swayed.

Daryl ran a hand through his hair, much curlier and softer since he took a really long shower before coming here, even adding some cologne Carol had mysteriously given him. He thought you hadn’t noticed it, but you did, and you wanted to smell him up close and personally. You become absolutely feral when your man was smelling and looking clean.

You came back with a much bulker and longer joint, once again straddling Daryl’s lap as he brought the lighter to the end, and a hand to your hip.

He watched your blood red lips as they took a deep and somehow sensual pull, so long that a chunk of burnt ash fell from the end, you quickly swatting it out the way so it didn’t land on your husband. You coughed as Daryl plucked the joint from you and brought it to his own lips, eyes lingering on the lipstick stain forming around the filter. He knew there were similar stains forming on his skin, especially as you kissed and sucked at his neck, grinding your hips down in the process.

Daryl leaned his head back as he continued taking drags from the joint, groaning softly as you lavashed his throat, hands drowning in his soft hair. You could feel his bulge right in between your dripping folds, and ground down hair, moaning as your clit rubbed against him. His free hand rested on your hip, roaming up your waist and travel down the swell of your ass, feeling how your tight dress had rode up to reveal your bare cheeks. “Got dessert already waitin’ fer me?” He picked his head up, bringing the joint to your lips as he lifted you onto the table, kneeling in front of you as you spread your legs, which he threw over his shoulders.

A wanton moan came from your chest as Daryl’s tongue was on you instantly, your hand gripping his hair as the other held the joint, occasionally tossing your head back and hitting it, releasing the smoke with a deep pleasured groan. Your whole body buzzed with warmth and fire as Daryl’s tongue worked between your folds, slipping into your hole before pulling out and moving to lap at your clit once more. His own cock throbbed and pulsated in his pants, the taste of your cunt so much sweeter on his high tastebuds.

He licked and slurped at your folds as if he hadn’t eaten minutes prior, tongue coming up to your clit only to suction his lips around it, beginning to suck as his fingers came to tease your folds.

You whimpered as the thick digits slid in, roach of a joint pinched tightly between your fingers. Your eyes rolled back as Daryl started to thrust and curl his fingers slowly but steadily, sending fire through your body. It felt so good but you just needed more, yanking Daryl’s head back. “Bend me over this goddamn table” You said more breathlessly than intended, jerking slightly when Daryl pulled his fingers out and rose to his feet, hovering over you and pressed his cock against your still stimulated cunt. “Yes ma’am” He whispered deep from his chest as he softly kissed you, pushing you to lean further back as he freed his hard cock, groaning into each other’s mouth when the tip slapped against your clit. His hand dragged the head between your folds, not wasting anytime as he fully rammed himself inside, your jaw going slack as it knocked the wind out you.

Daryl readjusted your legs on his hips, slowly rocking before quickly building speed, a deep moan in your chest as his cock easily thrusted into your sweet spot, each one getting increasingly quicker. “Oh God baby just like that” You dropped your head down to shut your eyes, but they caught on where Daryl was sliding in and out of you. He leaned his head against yours to watch as well, hands groping your waist. “M’gonna fuck yer brain out” You bit your lips and gripped the back of his neck. “That’s all I want you to do”

At those words, he pulled away from you suddenly, throbbing cunt clenching desperately around nothing until Daryl flipped you onto your stomch, collecting your curled hair into a sloppy hand held ponytail and yanking you back onto his cock, sliding so so much deeper than before, resuming his pace at higher velocity, moans beginning to uncontrollably fall from your smeared lips. “My lil valentine all nice ‘nd stuffed, gonna give ya lottas cum, kay?” Daryl’s words were going straight to his dick and into your cunt, eyes rolling into the back of your goddamn skull when he yanked you back by the hair, hand releasing the strands only to wrap around your throat, each strangle gasp and cry vibrated under his palm. He really could snap your delicate neck, not that he would but fuck if you wouldn’t let him.

He leaned down so that you could be flush against his chest, other hand grabbing your hip and occasionally sliding up to the bunched up fabric of your dress. He kept his hand comfortably tight around you, kissing and licking your bare shoulders. His hips sped up as he continued marking your skin, groping you hip as the hand around your throat tighten. You knew he was close, and you were almost off the edge yourself, so close, so close until you were toppling over, broken and choked moans coming from your lips. Daryl’s hips slowed to a stop, and he moved to release your throat but was stopped by your hand. “What happened to ‘lotts of cum’? I want my guts scrambled all night, Mr.Dixon” You turned to him and pouted, clenching around his still hard cock. He hummed, before pulling out and once again flipping you over, only you yelped as he fell down onto the seat with you in his grasp, fully seating you down onto his cock. “Ride me, gorgeous” Daryl gripped your hips, smiling up at you as curls fell into his face. His cheeks, jaw and lips all adorned dark red smooch marks, along with his neck and the hickies sucked into the skin.

Your man was just too fucking fine, gripping his face and licking into his mouth, beginning to bounce as he happily allowed you entrance, tongues pressing against one another as you slid your finger tips into his hair, heels firmly on the ground as your hips increased their pace. You pulled away from Daryl, a string of saliva still connecting your lips before your head lulled to the side, hand eagerly tugging your straps off and grabbing your tits, lewding moaning as you squeezed and pinched your nipples, grinding down and bouncing harder down.

One of your hands slid down and began rubbing circles in your clit. With the hand still rolling your boob, you grabbed Daryl’s face and shove it between your squishy tits, wildly moaning as you stimulated your whole cunt, cock hitting such a soft and sensitive spot inside you. “Love when ya take control ta get wha’ ya want” Daryl mumbled into the soft skin of your breasts, bringing the one your fingers pulled at into his mouth, feeling the way you convulsed around him, moaning as your hips stuttered and head dropped against Daryl’s shoulder. Your hand pulled from your sensitive cunt, however you stayed seat on Daryl’s cock.

It was quiet for a few moments, before your lips were trailing the side of his jaw. “Still not done, woman?” Daryl ran his hands up your side, rolling his hips up into you. “Nope. Carry me into the bedroom. Bring my weed” You giggled against him, legs wrapping around him when he rose to his feet, cock still buried deep inside. “Happy Valentines day m’beloved” He whispered taking only a few steps before pinning you against a wall, unleashing an attack on your neck as he started to move his hips, smiling softly against your skin as he did. You were in for a long, long night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[hope-to-hell]

John Wick. The one good thing about being alone with nothing to do. Smut, masturbation, blood, blood as lube, spit as lube. He’s got a little downtime alone. What’s a man to do but take the edge off?

This began as a single, very specific mental image that then, naturally, needed a story to go with it.

———

The house always wins. You can’t fight fate. All that is, and was, will be again. The lesson’s on an infinite loop, round and round like ribbon, like rope, and yeah, sure. Maybe it’s true: maybe our lives are measured by blood moving through the body one heartbeat at a time. But it’s not like there’s nothing beyond the chains of fate— there has to be something that makes this all worthwhile, something beyond the gilded cage of order. Even if it’s just a single moment— one spark in the darkness—

One blinding white jolt of pleasure, brutal and unforgiving, a tracery of veins crossing your vision and oh, Johnny boy, there’s always one more, one more

One more

One more job (one more stroke)

and it’ll be done. You’re gonna go out wet and sticky, maybe moaning a little, more likely stoic and silent. But, hey. You’ve got a little time, old friend, so go ahead and lean back; try to pull the iron from your spine far enough to curl in and over yourself. The wall’s cold— these rooms aren’t made for comfort, after all— but soon it’ll be blood-warm in the shape of your body. Take a few breaths and slide down down down til your ass is freezing on the floor; your seat’s all shivery-wet but the rest of you’s still soaked anyhow so who gives a fuck.

And anyway, you look like hell but that’s a distant concern; if— when— this ends you can patch yourself up, butterfly bandages and rough stitches telling the story of this long night. But while you’re here with nothing to do but wait, how about you take the edge off a little? After all, with the way you’re straining at your trousers, it’s a wonder you’ve been able to think at all. You’re a man of focus, right? Focus on yourself a minute. Get your mind quiet so you can put your thoughts in order. So open your fly and feel the cool air on your cock; swipe your hand across the wound that’s oozing sluggish on your belly. Fuckin hurts, right? That’s okay. Look at how you’re already twitching with anticipation.

There’s nothing like a palm full of blood to get things going; it’s still a rough burn but it just looks so pretty on your cock, doesn’t it? Savor it. Admire the way it streaks bright across your knuckles and drips along your shaft. Yeah, yeah. You’re itching to spit, to see if you can get it right on the head cause it just feels so dirty when you twist and drag your hand to spread it around.

And you are not going to think about— no. Don’t even think of what (who) you’re doing your damnedest to keep out of your head. Blank it all out. Put that focus to good use— this is between you and your hand. Go ahead and tighten your grip just that little bit more. Grab the bud of that dirty shameful little thought and crush it before it can bloom. You’re gonna need a clear head, and isn’t that what this is all about? Weeding out distractions?

Nevermind the way need ripples down your spine when you see yourself all red and white, sticky and twitching and oh, John, baby, that nasty deep-down voice is saying these hands of yours weren’t made for gentleness and maybe that’s so; but you’ve had five years to give yourself some balance and don’t you dare lose that part of yourself now. Nevermind the calluses on your thumb and fingers, raised in the shape of a pistol grip, and how their friction is so fucking sweet. There’s something you need. Dig down and root it out.

‘Course, you’re still listening for muffled footfalls just outside; you may be stuck in the liminal space between one firefight and the next, but you never really rest. You’ve got so many what-ifs and contingencies racing through your head. Aren’t you tired, trying to find a single path through it all? Yeah, you’re worn to the bone but that’s the life. You get through one way or another, even when you’re worn down to nothing but wet red footprints on the tile.

Hey, Johnny boy—you disaster, you gorgeous ruthless singleminded sonuvabitch— do you feel that? The gold thread at the base of your spine coiling tighter and tighter but not quite breaking? That’s your climax just out of reach, the candle wick that’s just a hair’s breadth too far from the flame. That’s clarity. You know what you need to get there: a little more spit for slick, tinged red from the sting of a split lip, maybe another drag through the slow bleed on your belly. Hold your breath. Curl your toes inside your shoes. Focus. Take all those aches and pains, those cuts and stabs, those bone-deep bruises. Gather them up and pour them into your hand.

That’s it. That’s good— you’re so very nearly there. Your balls are drawn up so damned tight, you’re like a gift to be torn open. All you need’s a little ribbon and a tag: to John, from your right hand. Keep holding your breath until the edges of your vision haze out— there’s that focus, that pure unadulterated will that keeps you going until you’re ready to give. The precipice is right there, knife-sharp, waiting. Go ahead—

exhale—

And fall.

There, now. Doesn’t that feel better? Sure, you’re a little sticky but it’s not like it matters. You’re filthy already, so a little semen’s just another drop in a deep well. Tuck yourself away and prick your ears for the sound of distant footsteps. Someone’s coming.

[kingofthe-egirls]

I just read of the the brothel au and first of all, I absolutely love all of it!! Second, I understand if you’re not taking requests but I’d love to see more Sanji or Zoro in the brothel au, maybe Sanji with a sugar mama kind of frequent customer, one who loves to spoil him?Regardless I’m a fan now of your work and I can’t wait for the next piece!!

ok ok ok ok ok

SANJI x OC (you're still the narrator)

brothel au

(cw: service!sanji, cunnilingus, weed, brothel/sw, shanks dirty talk)

Songs: "Heaven" by Maude Latour, "Dress" by Charlotte Sands

words: 1.2k

"Here you are, darling," Sanji croons as he hands you the handrolled joint. It's stuffed with pink flowers and sticky bud, and you can't wait to smoke it with him. This is more or less your nightly tradition, when both you and Sanji are available. If you're doing paperwork or seeing high-name clients, or if Sanji is tending the bar or having his own fun surrounded by eager young girls, then you both just collapse into your separate beds until the next day.

But tonight, you both are free, having taken the night off for each other. Sanji is kneeling at your feet, in between your legs. He's staring up at you with adoration, his lover and friend.

The smoke tastes thick and heavy, burning the back of your throat with a floaty aftertaste. The cherry buds taste sweet on your tongue, and you lean forward to blow smoke into Sanji's waiting mouth. His lips are soft as feathers, as they flutter around your own. He inhales the fragrant smoke, then pulls away to blow it to the side. Wispy clouds curl up and around the air of your boudoir.

He gently takes the joint from you, and inhales for himself. It's hot, and he coughs. The paper is softly crackling as he he taps off the ash. Sanji leans into you, resting his head on your knee. You softly stroke your fingers through his flaxen hair. It's shiny, and you watch it flash gold in the amber light. Music floats in from a festival down the street: something to do with pumpkins, and...ghosts?

Sanji presses a kiss to your knee.

"How was your day, my lovely?" He passes you back the joint, and you take a long hit. You keep it between your fingers: deference always paid to the madame. He strokes a slender finger down the inside of your calf. He traces your ankle, delicately wrapping his strong fingers around your foot. His thumb presses on the inside of your arch. You both sigh, relaxing into each other's presence.

"Oh, the usual," you hum, tapping the ash off into a silver tray left on your vanity, scattered with ribbons and beads at the moment. Your second hit burns faster than the last. Swiftly, you duck the joint back down to Sanji's lips, letting him take the rest of the sweet smoke himself. "Hired the new gardener today. She's been spending lots of time with Luffy lately," you muse, clicking your fingers together.

"Hm," Sanji snubs out the smoking joint. He lifts up, bracing himself with a hand on each of your knees. He leans closer, and kisses you. You brush his hair back from his face as he pulls back, deigning to gaze over both sides of his face. His hand comes up to cup your own cheek. He strokes his thumb softly over your skin. His touch feels like rose petals, and you sigh.

"Darling," you say, stroking his cheek, "Would you like a massage today?"

Sanji hums, leaning in to press hips against your temple. He smells like sweet wine and roses. Your high is creeping up the back of your legs, and you swoon a bit as Sanji scoops you off the chair and into his arms. He carries you bridal style to the bed, and lays you down gently. He pulls at the sash of your kimono, and lays it open to expose your bare breasts and stomach.

"I'd rather please you," he admits, kissing at the soft plush of your lower abdomen. He skims his fingers over your thighs, meeting your gaze with hungry eyes. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, lips hovering above the soft hairs between your legs.

Sanji runs his hand over your left hand, sticking at the purple jewels on your fourth finger. He hums, quirking an eyebrow. "Shanks came to visit last week," he mentions, hooking your legs over his shoulders.

"He's my pirate," you admit, roses blooming on your cheeks. "He's my friend," you say softer, more importance coating the word. It hangs heavy on your tongue, like dripping honey.

"Tell me about him," he croons, licking a stripe up your pussy. He has both slender hands wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place. You lean back, nestling into the comfort of your own pillows.

"His hair," you say immediately (surprising no one), "I can't help running my fingers through it. It's thick, and wavy, and salt-drenched," you moan, arching your lower back into Sanji's touch. He pets your pussy with two fingers, licking at your clit. He loves hearing about your other men as he pleasures you.

"His chest," you say, running your fingers through Sanji's own, golden hair. It's thin and flaxen, but softer than silk. "His muscular build," you grunt, eyebrows furrowing as Sanji speeds up, his fingertips pressing inside you. He keeps them there, just an inch past your entrance, and rubs them softly against your fluttering walls. "He's so strong," you say, "He can pick me up with one hand, it's so fucking hot--,"

"Tell me more," Sanji murmurs, his tongue replacing his fingers inside you. He stretches it out as far as it can go, warm and wet as he finds your sweetest spots. Sweat starts to bead at your temples. "Tell me how good he is to you, princess."

"He's so good!" You moan, thighs trembling as Sanji rubs at your clit, tongue-fucking you like a fucking prince. "He's so protective over me, and he's so--so masculine, it makes me feel so safe. He used to--to beat up clients that were rough, he used to just--cast them into the sea," you squeeze your eyes shut, voice trembling as Sanji brings you closer to your high. Sanji never lets you wait for long.

"How does he fuck you, madame?"

"He fucks me so good!" You yell, hips bucking into Sanji's delicate fingers. He's replaced his tongue with four long digits, rubbing at you so, so sweetly. His tongue flicks your little rosebud, soft and fast and tickling you towards an orgasm.

"He's so fucking strong," you say again, imagining your fiance's hot weight above you, fucking you with a dick thicker than a wine bottle. Your high is fully sweeping you off your feet now, waving over you in sea breezes of comfort.

"Does he make you cum, angel?" Sanji brushes his tongue flat against your clit, pulsing slightly as he maintains pressure. You shudder, trickling tingles running down your spine.

"He makes me cum so fucking hard--," you gasp out as an orgasm overtakes you. The high bolsters your pleasure, running you along Sanji's fingers as he rides you out. He kisses your inner thigh, thumb deftly twirling at your clit as you cum.

"Darling," he croons, lifting up as you finish twitching on the bed, "You're so beautiful for me," he rises up to kiss your cheeks, skimming soft lips over your flushed skin.

"Thank you," you breathe, wrapping your arms around Sanji's neck. He smells like sweet rosé, and you inhale deeply. He chuckles, breath puffing against the soft hairs at the nape of your neck. It tickles.

"Thank you," he counters, "The pleasure's all mine."

****

[biancadjarin]

modern!toxic!fuckboy!eddie has completely taken over my brain thanks to @newlips and @carolmunson they’re both so amazing plz go read their stuff first!!

this has been on my mind for a few days so… here we are 🫡 ⌚️

18+ warnings: mentions of drugs, sexual situations, shoplifting, cursing. Reader is needy and delusional. Eddie is manipulative.

You sit on Eddie’s lap as he focuses on rolling a blunt, your thighs straddling either side of his. He sprinkles the sticky green buds so haphazardly you watch as probably a gram’s worth spills out of the cigar paper and onto the couch beneath the two of you. “Occupational hazard.” he mumbles with a shrug as your hands come up to cradle beneath his to prevent more wasted weed. While his eyes focus on finishing up the blunt, he juts his chin up at you, signaling to you wordlessly what he wants you to do. You glance at his long pale neck, the fading pink and purple traces of an old hickey you didn’t give him staring back at you. You know Eddie sees other girls, he never hid that. But you can’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach when you think of another girl’s lips on his skin. Eddie has a way of making you feel wanted, special, singular. And even though the little voice in your head is yelling at you to get a grip, he’s not worth the games he puts you through! You keep coming back for more.

You lean into him and begin to nibble at the warm skin of his neck, leaving lipgloss kisses and kitten licks that you softly blow cold air onto to watch the goosebumps erupt on his skin. A small moan plays deep in his throat, almost too quiet to hear, like he’s holding it in. Not wanting to make it obvious how easily you can make him fall apart. When your acrylic tipped fingers rake down his chest over his faded Corroded Coffin shirt and land on his pecs, you feel his heart thumping faster than it was a few minutes ago. If I could just prove to him how much he wants me, needs me, loves me then maybe it could always be like this. Just us. You think to yourself.

“Do you like that baby?” You ask him sweetly, fingers playing with the chain around his neck. “Uhh yeah.” He mumbles flatly. “Feels so good.” His placating should annoy you but it does the opposite. It just makes you more eager to please him. His fingers bring the blunt to his mouth to lick a stripe and he seals it, holding it between his lips as he reaches into his pocket for his phone. You continue making out with his neck, his unruly hair tickling your cheek. He lets out a snort as he reads his texts, the hand not holding his phone rubbing your back absentmindedly. Your brain tells you not to peek over your shoulder at his phone but your eyes wander to the lit up screen, his thumb typing quickly to reply to a message. The name at the top reads Daisy Hideout and the little circle image looks like lips wrapped around the head of Eddie’s- you look away with a shudder before you can examine the picture too closely. As Eddie answers a few more texts you roll your eyes and bite down a little too hard on the vein you’ve been sucking at, earning a fuck and hissed breath from him. “So are we gonna smoke now or what?” you ask, rolling your hips forward and pressing your crotch into his lap. He drops his phone to the side and smirks watching the way you press into him.

“Remember what I told you about being patient?” He teases you as his hands come up to grab your waist, pulling your torso into his face. “I don’t like being patient. Or sharing.” You reply. He shakes his head, sighing as he nuzzles his nose into the fabric of your shirt. Your hardened nipples poke through and he runs his lips over them, letting his nose bump into them as he switches back and forth. “We’ve gone over this y/n.” He begins, “Don’t start acting like I’m your boyfriend because I’m not.” You let out a soft whine and snatch the blunt from his lips. He rests a hand on your hip while he leans over to grab his lighter and ashtray. You inhale as he flicks the lighter to the end of the blunt, tip burning and sizzling a cherry red. He watches the smoke drift out of your nose while his hands continue to roam your body. His right hand bumps into something bulky in your backpocket. His eyebrows pull together as he looks at you questioningly.

“Well then if you’re not my boyfriend, maybe I shouldn’t give you your gift.” You say swatting his hand away. He narrows his eyes at you, “What gift?” He asks as he takes the blunt and inhales. “The thing you showed me at the pawn shop last week…” His eyes go wide as he readjusts you on his lap, sitting up straighter and reaching for your pocket again. His hand slips in and pulls out the shiny silver watch. Your hearts racing with nerves and excitement just like it was the day you stole it. You’d never admit it but you kind of like stealing things. Especially for Eddie. And especially from greasy pawn shop owners who are so easy to distract with a little cleavage and hair twirling. Fuck it, it was probably a stolen Rolex to begin with.

“Holy shit holy shit.” He says as he drops the blunt into the ashtray. “You actually fucking stole this?” You nod with a small shrug, “You said you really wanted it.. d’ya like it?” “It’s a fucking Daytona Rolex of course I like it. And it has the platinum dials too shit.” Your cheeks warm as you watch him examine it closely. “Put it on.” you tell him as you take his hand in yours and help him latch it closed, perfectly fitting around his tattooed wrist. He turns his wrist in the light, little sparkles and rainbow bursts flickering across the two of your bodies. His impossibly warm brown eyes shimmer more than usual, the reflection of the diamonds in the watch making his irises look like a galaxy full of stars. “You.. you stole this.. for me?” he asks you quietly, voice filled with apprehension. You nod, “Of course. I wanted to show you how loyal I am. I hope this proves that.” you say, fingertips gently scratching underneath his chin, pulling him in for a soft kiss. “I’d do anything for you Eddie.”

Eddie looked at the beautiful girl sitting in his lap, her eyes filled with love and mind clouded with infatuation. He wasn’t thinking about this happening when he mentioned to her the Rolex sitting in the Hawkins Pawn Shop was at the top of his to buy list. But he’s happy at this turn of events. “Anything huh?” He has you exactly where he wants you.

masterlist here