#this is aimed at no one and i know its a hot take

[leighsartworks216]

Scar Tissue

Sylus x gn!Reader

Eyyyyy @comatosebunny09 I finally finished it >:3

Based on this post

Title from "Scar Tissue" by Red Hot Chili Peppers

Warnings: cuddling, early relationship, intimacy, injury, guns, knives, semi-nudity

Word Count: 2,421

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Speak.”

The generic carpet muffles his footfalls as he crosses the room to the oversized floor to ceiling windows that peer out over Chansia City. You follow behind him until you get to the dresser, lined neatly with your clothes.

The hotel is very nice, especially high up here in the presidential suite. Though, you haven’t had much time to actually enjoy it. You got here yesterday, and it feels like all you’ve had time for is sleeping and getting dressed. It’s all been meetings, deals and exchanges otherwise. The only reason you’re back here at all is to change clothes to go to dinner with another client.

Sylus sighs, irritation painting his face with a scowl. You can just barely hear Luke’s voice on the other end. They’ve been holding down the N109 Zone in Sylus’s absence. “More petty land grabs?”

“Nah, from what we’ve heard it sounds like an affair came to light and now they’re duking it out to win their love.”

You snicker as you pull out a clean shirt. You turn and drop it on the bed, back to Sylus as you take off your shirt, bloody and torn from your earlier meeting. He turns to shoot you a half-amused half-annoyed glance over his shoulder. “Have Mephisto-”

But the words get stuck in his throat. Time seems to slow down as he stares at the bare expanse of your back. Your skin looks like a well-used cutting board. Scar after scar, criss-crossing over each other, fundamentally altering the appearance of your flesh for years to come.

He can pinpoint which were from missions he’d sent you on. Jobs that put you in the line of fire, where you had to fight your way out to survive, where someone got a surprise jump on you.

Others are completely foreign. Cuts and bullet wounds and burn marks, all unfamiliar to him. What secrets from your past do you keep locked away from him? How safe are you from the ones that hurt you? Would you ever tell him if something was wrong? If something cropped up from back then, from a time he’d never know enough of? Perhaps not.

Somehow, the former was worse. Knowing he was the one that sent you into trouble. Or those damn injuries you earned from taking a hit intended for him. Being the root cause for your pain aches more than never knowing the damage you incurred before.

You slip your shirt on, hiding the marks from view, and peek over your shoulder at him, confused by his silence. Time speeds back up.

He schools his features into something neutral, hiding the regret and hurt, and burying it deep down within him. He looks out the windows once more. Luke asks if he’s alright. Sylus ignores it, speaking as if nothing ever happened.

-

Dinner was dull, for the most part. The client didn’t seem to understand that you weren’t there for conversation, repeatedly prompting you to answer questions. You’d have signaled Sylus to put the man in his place, but it was all too amusing to see him flounder.

“What kind of gun do you use?” You’d slipped it from its holder mid sip of wine and dropped it onto the table with a heavy thud. That’d taken him by surprise. He recovered quickly enough, spewing off facts about the make and model that you already knew.

“Has it been modified?” You broke it down and separated the parts that had been replaced or enhanced. He’d curiously reached out to inspect them, but you put it back together before he could touch anything. He paused, but put on a slightly strained, polite smile as he awkwardly sat back in his chair.

“How good is your aim?” You shot the end of his cigarette when he went to tap the ashes into a dish, scaring him so bad he shook the entire table and had to rapidly keep his drink from tipping into his lap.

He seemed content to leave you be after that.

You fall back into the bed, arms spread out wide and still in your dinner attire. Sylus chuckles. “Have fun?” he teases. He sits down beside you, leaning on his arm with an amused grin.

You shoot an unimpressed glare his way. Fabric rustles as you slide your hand along the bed to hold his arm, caressing the tensed muscles of his forearm. “Don’t worry, you can make it up to me.”

His grin turns into a salacious smirk. You smack his bicep. “Not like that.”

“You don’t know what I was going to suggest.” Nonetheless, he kicks off his shoes by the side of the bed and lays down beside you. With one hand acting as a pillow, the other rests comfortably on your stomach. You wrap your arm around his neck to play with his hair. Content, you close your eyes.

The last vestiges of the sun filter through the window. Combined with the few lights in the room, you look… peaceful. It’s starting to become a common sight, and he takes great pleasure in being the one allowed to witness it. These times when you trust him enough to relax. When you stop listening out for the slightest hint of danger. When your body releases the tension constantly preparing your body for an attack. It’s a privilege. He hopes never to take it for granted.

Your fingers flit lazily through his hair. His body still tenses on the onset of your touch. His natural instinct yells for him to pull away, go on the defensive, protect himself. It’s always a battle to fight against them and allow himself to completely trust someone. As this - cuddling together, the small moments of physical intimacy and skinship - become the normal, the fight gets easier and easier.

He wonders if that same defensive instinct wars on in your head when he slips his hand under the hem of your shirt. The first brush of his fingers on your flesh, the flinch of muscle away from the contact, that eases back into his touch after a pause. If it does, you say nothing of it. Rather, when your stomach flinches away, you tug on his hair. An equal exchange. And perhaps a reminder of the lengths you have both gone to expose yourselves to each other.

Calloused fingertips dance across your belly, hidden by the fabric of your shirt. Soft ridges and toughened skin of layers of damage done across the years. His mind is shot back to the thoughts he had earlier. You can feel the shift in his touch. The way his fingers lift to barely ghost over your skin, as though you’re as thin and fragile as wet tissue paper. You open your eyes to watch him.

His face is stern. Like when discussing a difficult deal, his brow is furrowed and his eyes are dark. He slowly pushes up the shirt until it rests in a rumpled heap around the bottom of your ribcage. The shift in your breathing latches on at the edge of his senses. Just as with your back, scar after scar decorates your skin. But one stands out from the rest.

Along the line of your hip is a cut. It’s shallow. The skin it tore apart is irritated from lack of care and not having a moment to rest properly.

That’s his fault, too. Dragging you out to a dinner you didn’t really want to go to instead of giving you the opportunity to sleep and heal. Technically, you’re his bodyguard - his guard dog, always by his side, defending him from anyone who you deem a threat. Yet, he’s discomfited by just how quickly you step in to protect him. That’s what this scar is the result of.

The meeting this morning. A fight broke out. He was aiming a gun at the other group leader. One of their lackeys came up from the side with a knife. And you got hit. It had bled, but you’d brushed him off so easily when he mentioned it. You weren’t doubled over, nor were you in a rush to patch it up, so he trusted your judgement. Without a second thought.

Fortunately, your judgement is dependable. All it really needs is a bandage to keep the skin together and bacteria out while it heals, and yet he doesn’t get up. He doesn’t move. All he does is trace alongside it, feeling how it becomes intertwined with the scars before it.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” he says, but the tone of his voice is odd. Teasing, edged with something raw. Something more vulnerable. Something that you two have been dancing around for weeks. “Tell me the next time you’re hurt. I’ll patch you up.”

You brush the hair from his face. His red eyes shift first to the bunched up fabric of your shirt, then to yours. His eyes are soft. The deep maroon of before has melted into a bloody crimson.

“I can patch myself up.”

He scoffs with a smirk and the slight tilt of his head. “I wasn’t asking, sweetie.”

You quirk a brow up at him. “Does it bother you?”

“Yeah,” he agrees readily.

Your fingers falter. He brushes his thumb more firmly along the edge of the cut, still light enough that it doesn’t hurt, but with enough force that it no longer feels like he’s treating you like something fragile.

You frown at him, tapping three times at the base of his skull, a silent request for more information. He pushes himself up onto his elbow. It should be salacious, even intimidating, for him to hover over you like this. But it’s not.

His eyes follow his hand as he traces other marks on your belly. A bullet entrance wound here, a Wanderer’s blade there. The ones he caresses are newer. They haven’t yet faded into your skin. Of all of them, he’d only helped treat one or two. Some, he never even knew about, but he could trace back to when, what mission, they were received from.

“How many of these are from protecting me?” he asks lowly. “You do realize I can heal from all of these much faster than you can, don’t you, sweetie?”

You tilt your head. “It bothers you… that I do my job?”

He chuckles, but the mirth doesn’t reach his eyes. “You could stand to be a little less efficient at it.”

The world falls quiet. The sun disappears, leaving darkness in her wake. The orange glow of the hotel lamps forms mountains and valleys along your skin. You study him, searching for answers.

Over your lifetime struggling to survive, you’d gotten good at reading people, Sylus included. Of course, he had broken your assumptions and expectations. If he hadn’t, you’d never have let him get so close. Never have allowed him to touch you like this, see your skin like this.

Right now, you can’t understand him.

He hired you to be his bodyguard, to protect him. To be his own personal shield when shit hits the fan. But he doesn’t want you to? A lingering fear in your mind worries for the end of your partnership. Would he really touch you like this if he wanted to fire you? Besides, when you made the damn deal, he said only you would have the power to call it off. He wasn’t someone to go against his word.

You drop your hand from his hair. His eyes snap to you, a flicker of fear that is snuffed out when you touch his chest. He’s still wearing his nice dress shirt, jacket discarded elsewhere. You play with one of the buttons. “How many times have you stepped in to protect me?” you ask.

Countless times. More and more frequently.

“Do you let any of them scar?”

He slowly shakes his head. It’s always second nature for him to use his Evol to take care of any and all injuries. Anything that could scar is gone before he has a chance to think about it, so long as he’s in the right conditions to use it.

“Then you can’t understand.”

He hums. “Enlighten me.”

You grin. Gliding your hand from his chest, down his arm, you hold the back of his where it rests on your stomach. It doesn’t take much effort to guide him. He watches, feels the scars that scrape by, as you bring it back back down to your hip, until his palm rests over the cut. It will heal within a couple of weeks, probably less. Once it’s healed, it will scar over. Once it scars over, it will be nothing more than a lasting memory embedded in your skin.

“They’re badges,” you say quietly. When he looks back up at you, you’re watching his hand, trailing your fingertips over the veins that decorate them. “I earned them from protecting you.”

So why would I not want them?

It goes unsaid, but he catches it anyway in the gentle reverence of your carress, the quirk of your brow when you look at him wordlessly asking if he can understand now. It doesn’t need to be said.

He slips his hand out from under yours. The bed shifts with his weight as he turns and gets up. You feel the loss immediately. It’s easy to hide the disappointment, but it churns over in your gut, more distinctly than you’ve ever felt it before, as he disappears around the corner of the wall. Did he really hate them so much?

He returns a minute later when you’re considering fixing your shirt with a medkit in hand. He sits on his knees, sets the kit down beside your body, and opens it up to get what he needs. The disinfectant stings as he wipes it along the cut, but you hardly feel it when he just looks so beautiful. So focused on taking care of you.

“Tell me when you're hurt,” he reminds you. He unspools a length of gauze and wraps it around your midsection securely. He glances at you with a slight grin as he grabs a roll of bandages from the kit. “They won’t scar well if they get infected first.”

A week later, you’re the one patching him up. He sits calmly on the couch as you draw a needle through the skin of his bicep. It’s just a knife wound. Earned from stepping in to protect you.

He can’t wait to see the scar.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip

[sailoryooons]

Hello 🤗🙋🏻‍♀️ I hope it’s okay to ask this, I am asking a few people so no need to answer if you have no desire to. I’ve read alot of writers on both ends today. Some saying that if readers don’t engage they will be driven away. But now some are saying that readers don’t need to interact. I feel torn because I couldn’t help but interact with a few authors but sometimes I don’t know what to say. What do you think?

My short answer: do whatever you want, whenever you want. You're not required to leave feedback, but it's also appreciated if you do. Writers are not required to give you content, and you as a reader, are not required to provide feedback on the content.

My long answer:

Expecting readers who come to this website to read for free to provide you reviews and feedback is hypocritical. So many writers, myself included, have reiterated multiple times that we write for free and we don't owe readers updates, perfection etc. Well, readers are also reading for free, they don't owe us reviews and feedback.

There are people who really rely on feedback which is fine, but at the end of the day, the negative feelings you have regarding the lack of feedback and reviews is an internal problem, and ultimately your problem to overcome. Relying on others to make you feel better about your art is asking a lot of people, especially on a website where most people are strangers.

I also want to point out the fact that a ton of readers on this website don't speak English as their first language and don't feel comfortable leaving reviews. It's sometimes hard when English isn't your first language to confidently tell someone how you feel, especially if you're insecure about coming off wrong or sounding imperfect.

We're also disregarding the fact that there are neurodivergent people on this website too, who do not owe you a reason for why they don't feel comfortable reviewing your work and providing feedback. Everyone is different, but making the people who can't confidently comment on your work feel like they're a problem isn't the answer.

At the end of the day, everyone is allowed to have their own feelings about feedback. vs. silent readers, but when you make public posts telling readers that you want to leave Tumblr because they aren't doing enough for you, I really want you to consider: your writing might be a safe space for someone, and now you're telling the people in that safe space that you have created that they aren't doing enough to be there, or that the safe space is strictly transactional.

As someone who is exhausted from surviving the human condition and who is tired from participating in existing, I think we can stop asking people to perform the way we want them to in every single space of relaxation available to them.

[heegyukeluv]

the devil wears prada (sjy)

pairing: idol!jake x afab!reader

synopsis: As Sim Jaeyun stepped out of Prada’s after party, everyone ignored his goodbyes to the sea of paparazzis, because the buzz was about the lucky person who got to disheveled his hair. Jake’s honest answer for that was: the devil. And she for sure wears Prada.

my's note: i love how everyone saw Jake’s after-party photos and thought the same thing (i'm everyone). disheveled hair jake after-party prada that’s all. and i just realized i don’t know how to write a quickie lol enjoy <3 (please take into consideration this is a work of fiction, this doesn't represents the artist's image)

warnings: SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, protected sex, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, quickie but not really, public (?) bathroom sex, mirror sex, reader is quite dom with jake (i can't help myself), mention of alcohol. lmk if i missed something!

wc: 5.4k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire

The air was thick with the scent of luxury – champagne and expensive perfumes mingling with the buzz of the conversations in every corner of the room.

You had your back leaning against the marble counter of the bar, fingers nonchalantly tracing the edge of your vibrant drink and eyes drifting through the sea of people. Everyone was dressed to impress, each guest showcasing their creativity through Prada’s clothes, accessories and shoes.

Working in the fashion industry came with perks, and being invited to exclusive after-parties was undoubtedly the best one. So you weren’t a stranger to this world. The glamourist atmosphere, the music playing as a soft background, the dim lights casting a perfect blend of elegance and casualness over the place.

It made your body shiver with joy, fulfillment at its most filling your chest, as the surroundings seemed to confirm what you already knew: you were in the right place – your place.

Earlier, at the main event, you watched the showcase with sparkling eyes, recording specific moments to use later as inspiration for your own creativity process. You loved how free you could be with your ideas while doing your work, not to mention the possibility of adding tons of yourself to it. Some might call it an egoistic behavior, as if your job existed solely for your own satisfaction. But the creation was yours, so why shouldn’t the outcome be about you too?

You took another sip of your drink, your sharp gaze scanning the room.

As soon as you stepped at the after-party, many other designers and some artists approached to compliment both your visual and your work, and you confidently talked with them. Yet, coming not from one, but from a few of them, there was an underlying tone; their praises were not solely aimed at your outfit or your impeccable creations, but rather an attempt to carve a path to your heart – or, perhaps, under your dress.

You never denied you had a good appearance. Together with your sense of style and your fearless demeanor, you enchanted anyone who crossed your way. The badass woman aura you exhaled was almost palpable and extremely hot for those who watched – with heart and lustful eyes – as you passed by.

Despite the usual lingering intense gazes on you, far from feeling intimidated or even shy by them, there was one pair of eyes burning deeper, piquing your curiosity as you kept on searching for its owner. 

It was like you every motion was being captured by them, following you across the room, and no matter how many conversations you effortlessly maneuvered through, all you could feel was the constant, intense weight of the said gaze.

After one more drink and some uninterested noddings at the guy who took place near you at the bar, you finally found him.

Sitting on the middle sofas of the main room, drink in hand, together with his group, devil eyes staring at you shamelessly, biting his lip and looking extremely hot as doing so.

You quirked an eyebrow in his direction, not even bothering to follow the bla-bla-bla coming from the random guy anymore, his words sounding like nothing to you at that point.

Especially because the attractive man looking at you didn’t even flinch after getting caught, as if it was the purpose from the beginning. If anything, he deepened eye contact in a daring, cocky manner, almost challenging you to react over the tension that started to hang in the air between you two.

Unlucky to him, you weren’t the type to follow anyone’s lead but yours, so you simply let out a soft scoff, a smirk tugging at your lips as you deliberately took another sip of your drink without breaking the new unspoken game – the one you were sure you would win.

You observed closely how he drifted his gaze away from yours just to blatantly check you out, stopping on your bare thighs for a moment before doing the same on your exposed chest, the neckline of your dress giving the perfect bait for men like him.

He shifted on his seat, gulping and then assaulting his lower lip with his teeth once more, as if trying to contain himself from running all the way to you, just to undress you properly instead of keep on doing that with his glare. 

You would be lying if you said that his demeanor wasn’t helping to ignite the fire from your core to your entire body, skin heating with a hint of desire. Even so, you waited patiently.

The random designer talking to you was long gone already, though you barely noticed, unnecessarily engrossed in your little game.

With a subtle, innocent tilt of your chin, you motioned your head slowly as a signal, beckoning him to come closer, without breaking eye contact. The simple gesture caught him off guard; his confident atmosphere stumbling to keep itself up, eyes growing wide in surprise, and you found it irresistibly adorable.

The corner of your lips curled when he stood up after whispering something to one of his friends, who quickly glanced at you and then showed a small smile. You finished your drink as he made his way over, his steps relaxed, but his eyes avoiding yours. You almost chuckled at the endearing scene.

As he approached, you noticed how young he seemed to be, perhaps even younger than you. Not to mention his incredible inebriating fragrance and self beauty – the plump pink lips and the high bridge nose perfectly sculpted doing things to you.

“Hey,” he greeted, eyes straightaway dropping to your exposed neckline, lingering on the curve of your chest.

You leaned in just slightly, making sure he got a better view, batting your lashes with a sly smile. “Hey.”

Without asking for your preference, he ordered two drinks. You decided to let it slide for now – being surprised could be fun every now and then, and maybe accepting his drinks could be one of the keys to get something more.

“You’ve been turning heads all night.” He finally said after a while, the hot, aussie accent didn’t go unnoticed by you. Your body heat increased as an immediate response. 

As you tilted your head slightly, letting a small smile play on your lips, you smoothly replied with faux innocence. “Have I?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, thanking the bartender for the drink as he handed you one, oblivious of the rhetorical question. Your smile widened. “Can I know your name?”

“Y/N,” you politically extended your hand, eyes sharp on his face. His grip was hesitant, and the moment your fingers touched, an unexpected jolt of electricity shot through your body. You suppressed a slight shiver.

“Jake,” he introduced himself, caring little to nothing about showing how affected he got just by feeling your soft palm on his.

His breath hitched, getting caught on his throat as his eyes darkened. He couldn’t help but think about how your touch would feel elsewhere on his body.

The excitement flooded your chest instantly, you had to hold back yourself because you realized that if you wanted – and you so did – those perfect lips would be attached to yours in no time, and if you were lucky enough, they would be exploring other parts of your body as well.

“Nice meeting you, Jake.” You murmured, pronouncing his name with your most velvety voice, slowly pulling your hand away to grab your drink from the counter, sipping it.

Jake tracked your deliberate movements, wetting his slightly parted lips when he saw your red lipstick staining on the glass edge, utterly in disbelief he simply discovered someone who definitely came out from his wettest dreams, who would turn the smallest, innocent gesture into something sensual.

Even the simple act of blinking in his direction seemed meticulously calculated to make it hard to resist your advances, fueling the growing tightness inside his pants.

Not to mention how sexy his name rolled out of your beautifully tinted lips. 

Jake leaned his arms on the marble counter, turning his head to keep on watching you, as if your presence were an alluring, tempting show, happening right in front of his eyes just to damage his weak heart.

“I couldn’t stop looking at you.” He blurted out shamelessly, shattering the ‘cool’ facade he was trying to maintain under your intense gaze.

There was something about how sincere, seductive, and yet, desperate he sounded, as if his greatest longing in life was to have you right away. You were enjoying that guy so much so far. 

“I’ve noticed,” you chuckled with your eyes brimming with flirtation, shifting between his plush, kissable lips and his desire-filled orbs. “And are you planning to keep just looking?”

Jake blinked, momentarily taken aback with your quick and direct response. Although you had an obvious confident aura radiating through your pores, he definitely didn't expect you to be so straight to the point, thinking he would have to ease things a bit more.

And honestly? He found your vibe more exciting than he would like to admit. 

“I guess that depends on what you want,” he answered, voice dropping a tone, trying to match the energy you exuded.

Ignoring the chills running through your spine by his low murmur, you softly chuckled and leaned back against the bar, gaze still locked with his.

“Oh, Jake,” you teasingly cooed, grinning, with your voice dripping with amusement, “I always get what I want.”

It was visibly apparent how your words ignited something on his body, perking up in anticipation while his eyes deepened and his jaw clenched; if you looked close enough, you would see the slight bulge in his crotch area. 

Jake straightened his posture, finishing his drink in one go without breaking eye contact, hooded eyelids offering you the most magnetic sight you saw that night until that moment.

Then he leaned in closer, the tension between you two increasing with every heartbeat. “Meet me in the bathroom,” he whispered in your ear, a cocky smirk creeping onto his face.

As he walked towards the restroom area, his confident stride only added to the thrill. Men would be promising you the best night of your life just to leave you hanging and dealing with your situation alone. However, Jake seemed to exude an air of boldness blended perfectly with devotion, making a rush of anticipation bubbling in your core.

You let out a small laugh, not even caring about finishing your drink. The thrilling game had just started and you were so ready to play.

Jake’s lips tasted like heaven. And fancy liquor.

His hands were everywhere, but mainly on your ass and neck, his desperation evident by the way he pressed your back into the cold wall, sucking your lips as if his life depended on it.  

After following his traces, feigning indifference as best as you could to the open public, it took mere seconds before you felt his strong grasp on your hips guiding you into the bathroom – fortunately, they had private, separated spaces, making it easier for the two of you to steal as much privacy as the party allowed.

You could hear the muffled hum of the songs playing as a background, merging with the lewd sounds from the messy, hungry kiss you both shared and the soft groans rumbling from Jake’s throat as well.

Just minutes ago your plans were completely different; just some kisses and calling it a night, definitely not imagining things going further than that. However, the way Jake’s mouth skilfully moved against yours made you wonder how good it would feel in other places of your body, like in between your legs, and you just had to give it a chance.

“You taste so good,” he murmured, barely breaking the contact, lips already swollen and reddened due to your lipstick and your not so gentle bites. 

You hummed in response, unable to form proper words about how amazing of a job he was doing just by kissing you. 

Your fingers tangled in his silky brown hair, tugging without restraint because you quickly realized how much Jake liked it. He moaned, lips parting against yours with the intensity of the pull, your hazed gaze catching a quick glimpse of his eyes rolling back – an extremely devilish view.

Although stumbling a bit, Jake managed to easily place you at the edge of the sink’s counter by lifting you firmly gripping your thighs, the feeling alone making you wince as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist for support.

The room seemed to shrink as your breaths quickened, the boiling sensation bubbling in your stomach as you anticipated for more of his intense, heated, passionate touches. 

Jake, just as breathless, decided to assault the flesh of your neck and exposed collarbone, getting drunk on your scent and softness as he did so, loving how you tilted your head just enough to give him some more access to explore.

A soft moan escaped your lips and your fingers tightened on his hair when he nibbled your sensitive spot, close to your earlobe, sending jolts of electricity directly to your pussy.

You could feel a smirk creeping into his mouth, right before he questioned teasingly, slowly sucking the area. “Do you like that?”

You fought to keep your composure, a soft smile threatening to break through as the heat blossomed in your core. His breath tickled your skin, deliberately waiting for your answer while igniting every inch of you by keeping on playing on that spot. 

The first reaction you gave was another moan together with your nails digging on his shoulders and scratching his scalp. Then you admitted, still struggling to hold yourself back. “Fuck, yes. I do.” 

Jake cooed at you, gently pulling away from the curve of your neck to study your dazed expression; lips agape releasing heavy breaths, cheeks flushed with a delicate pink and eyes half-lidded, fluttering slowly, still dripping in the same confidence you once carried, as if even under his lead you were the one commanding.

“You look hot and messy, and I haven’t even started yet.” Jake teased, a playful smile gracing his lips as he pressed them against yours again.

“Do you always talk that much?” You murmured, not quite intending to judge his demeanor, but a bit annoyed and amused by how he appeared to need to hear you frequently while savoring you. 

“Only when I'm nervous.” Jake answered honestly with an awkward chuckle, helping you to remove his jacket, which landed straight on the ground and he couldn’t care less.  

“Oh, do I make you nervous Jakey?” You smirked, thirsting over his now exposed veiny arms. 

Watching Jake’s cheeks being painted with a faint blush while he swallowed hard under your sharp gaze, clearly getting flustered, brought back the control you thought was lost. 

“Maybe a little,” Jake tried to play it cool, but his voice came out smaller than he expected, and he tried to avoid facing you by leaning to kiss you again.

A glint of mischief sparkled in your eyes when you noticed he was losing his composure. You kindly held his head still, forcing him to keep his gaze on you. “Aw, come on, Jakey. Don’t shy away now,” you said, a smooth voice layered with playfulness and a sultry, almost mocking undertone. “You haven’t even started yet, isn’t that right?” 

Jake nearly moaned when he heard your words, not because of them itself but by how hot you sounded. His cock throbbed painfully inside his pants, his underwear probably stained with his leaking precum at that point. 

Jake got fooled at some moment by thinking he was the one in charge, even provoking you while exploring your desires initially, but the reality was that he had been following your lead like a lost puppy all along. 

There was something about how confident and dominant you seemed to be since the beginning, not faltering a single moment to his boldness, and somehow you carried that still, assuming the control gracefully, as if it was your job. And Jake was very grateful for you doing so.

His eyes softened and his breath hitched. 

“Tell me, what do you want from me?” The question slipped from his plush, beautiful lips, laced with desire and a touch of vulnerability without much cohesive thinking, clouded mind craving to satisfy you, because that meant his own fulfillment. “I wanna give you everything.”

Devoting to a devilish goddess like you was a tempting surrender he was eager to embrace.

You felt a pulse straight in your clit and your cheeks heating, the weight of his desperate words triggering your following behavior.

Jake saw the way your face brightened up, realizing he had opened the hell’s gate and he was eager to enter – if you were the personification of the devil, he was more than willing to drown into your lustful, tempting sea of sins. 

“What do I want from you?” You echoed, an amused grin curling the corner of your lips as your eyes traced Jake’s attractive features, pausing on his perfectly sculpted high-bridged nose, accompanied just below by his tasteful lips. You smiled, caressing it with your thumb. “I want them. Eat me out.” 

Jake’s breath got caught on his throat and his eyes grew in a slight surprise, not only due to your bold, straightforward request, but mainly because the idea of having your pussy in full display for him to play sounded too dreamy.

“Are you sure?” He asked in a low, contained voice, struggling to keep down his excitement, biting his lower lip, aiming to confirm he wasn’t going insane.

“I know what I want, Jake.” You cocked your head with a raised eyebrow. “And you?”

Jake’s eyes immediately dropped to your chest and then your bare thighs. The dress had ridden up due to the position so he was able to see a hint of your laced, black panties. He wet his lips, mouth watering while he lowered enough to bend comfortably and be eye level with your cunt.

You watched, fascinated by how in trance he seemed to be, as though your final word was the cue for him to dive into you completely. 

Your stomach fluttered in anticipation as you propped yourself up to help Jake slide your panties down your legs, gentle hands caressing your smooth skin as he did so. Then he grabbed your ass and pulled you forward, shooting you a quick glance and smile before burying his face between your legs, the smell of your pussy intoxicating his senses. 

He first gave it a small, slow kitty-lick, testing the waters, then frowned in pleasure, groaning with your delicious taste dissolving on his tongue.

A soft gasp slipped from your lips and you quickly pursed them to stifle the sounds threatening to escape, fighting the urge of allowing yourself to let go so easily. One of your hands searched for support on the edge of the counter and the other held on tight to Jake’s hair.

Jake gave a long, savoring lick, finishing with a delectable, lewd sucking noise in your clit, as if he was starting to make out with your pussy. Your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered shut, your limbs feeling like jelly as a wave of weakness coursed through you.

His hot muscle started to work faster, steadier and precise in between your folds, your entrance and your sensitive bundle of nerves, giving each of them the right amount of attention.

“Holy shit, Jake,” you moaned shakily, unable to keep it low. “You’re so fucking good at this,” you threw your head back, unconsciously waving your body towards his face, practically griding on it.

Jake moaned with your praise, skilfully shaking his head whenever he flickered his tongue in your hole, just to rub your clit with his nose, before moving back to suck on it, entirely immersed on his duty to please you.

He was on cloud nine. 

Your taste flooding his senses, your body reacting to his stimulus, heating up and shivering under his precise touch, your pretty moans filling up the space straight into his ears, like angels singing – though he was sure you were a devil in disguise. 

Every noise coming from your throat was sending a rush of electricity directly into his dick, not to mention how your cunt became wetter and wetter with the lewd mixture of his own saliva and your arousal. Jake could die that moment and would be happy with it.

Reading the way your breathing grew heavy and feeling how you clenched around the tip of his tongue, Jake deduced you were near to the edge.

“I’m close–” You whispered, confirming his theory.

The knot on your stomach tightened when Jake began to focus mainly on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue on it, eager for your release – perhaps more than you. “I’m really close, Jak–”

Your arms nearly failed to keep yourself up as your orgasm hit, a long moan falling from your mouth interrupting your warning, your spine arching with the euphoria wave and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your juices coated Jake’s tongue, who took all of it proudly; you hissed feeling his mouth still working on your sensitive cunt, and you pulled him away by his hair.

Without a word Jake brought his lips to yours, making you taste yourself still hazy minded after your strucking climax. You groaned, slowly starting to move your hips to get down from the counter, Jake unconsciously helping you through it by supporting your weight until your heels landed on the floor. 

You lightly pushed Jake’s chest to move him away, meeting his dazed expression, one that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his veins. You grabbed the hem of his black shirt, quietly asking for him to remove it. And he did without hesitation.

"Fuck me," you demanded, taking a glimpse of his beautiful toned abs, a bit out of breath and even needier now. "Fuck me and watch you doing it through this mirror."

Jake flashed a quick grin, still recovering from the smothering and delightful feeling of being in between your legs, before fumbling with his belt, hands frantic undoing the button of his pants to slide them down.

You took your sweet time to thirst over the outline of his covered, extremely hard length, interrupting his actions by gripping his wrist, savoring the moment as you licked your lips, mouth watering.

“It’s a shame we cannot take much longer,” you started, fauxing innocence as you stepped closer just enough to touch him over his white boxers. A small, provocative chuckle coming from your throat before you murmured. “Really wanted to feel you in my mouth.” And then you kissed the corner of his parted lips.

Jake whimpered when you softly squeezed his neglected dick, leaning closer to you instinctively, holding onto the edge of the counter behind you while resting his sweaty forehead on your shoulder. His breath was heavy against your skin, where he pressed his lips a few times until reaching your earlobe, nibbling. 

Your sneaky hands entered the hem of his clothing piece to jerk him off; your teasing, deliberate moves were driving him insane. The way your warm palm rubbed his sensitive tip made his groans increase just as much as his pulse, and he moaned a bit louder when you finally freed his aching dick out of his boxers by pushing them down, allowing your hand to pump his shaft easier. 

With closed eyes, you enjoyed the waves of pleasure going down, directly to your cunt, making you wet again by hearing Jake’s sultry noises and hot breath brushing against your ear.

Your lips grazed along his jawline at the same time you threatened your fingers through his slightly dampened hair, disheveling it even more before pulling it away from the curve of your neck, so you could capture his mouth in a slow, passionate kiss.

"Condom?" You asked under breath after parting away from his mouth, slowing your hand on his dick. You noticed his body tensing right after your question, eyes growing wide in panic, which piqued your curiosity.

There’s no way he…

"Shit, I didn't bring–"

You let out a soft scoff, part laughter, part disbelief. Without missing a beat, your hands resumed their movement, this time teasing him by randomly stopping, repeating the motion a few times. His moans grew louder, hips bucking desperately against your hand as if seeking more, his mouth agape and eyes glistening with despair.

"What a naughty boy," you cooed, slowly shaking your head in a false disappointment. "Were you planning on going raw with me, Jakey?" You questioned, voice low, layered with playfulness. 

Jake winced, desperation growing inside his chest, fearing you to leave him now, when he needed you the most.

"N-No..." He shook his head, “I wasn’t– I forgot, I’m sorr–” 

"Unluckily we just met.” You interrupted. “I don't know you well enough to let you do that. Right?" 

Jake nodded, though he wasn't sure if he was truly following your words. You were loving to see him falling apart so easily, almost begging for you not to leave him through his messy moans. 

His breath hitched and he almost grabbed your hand in place when you let go from his hard, red and needy cock. "P–please…" He finally pleaded, holding your waist as his eyes searched for yours in complete despair.

You quirked an eyebrow, smirking at his endearing demeanor. "Aw, you really wanna fuck me, don't you?" You caressed his cheek with your clean hand, smiling.

“I really do,” Jake whispered, moving his head just enough to kiss your palm. “Please, let me–”

“Not without protection, Jakey,” you said firmly, although with a hint of teasing, because you had a way out of that situation without harming your health.

And the said solution was inside your purse, which got tossed on the ground at some point of your initial make out session with Jake. 

Jake's puppy sad eyes followed your every motion when you moved his hands off of your waist, thinking he had messed up completely. But then he saw you grabbing your bag and taking a condom off of it, showing to him with a playful grin.

"And lucky to us, I'm always prepared, Jakey.”

You slowly approached him again, his gaze catching the alluring sight of you gently opening the packaging using your teeth, while your eyes confidently remained locked onto his, loving to see his bewildered expression.

Without a word, you slid the condom on his length, stroking it a few times before turning your back to him, bending over the counter and lifting your dress, revealing the beautiful view of your bare ass.

Jake’s firm hands instinctively gripped your hips and he positioned himself behind you while biting his lip in anticipation, the thrilling excitement boiling stronger in his cock.

He searched for your eyes in the mirror in front of you two, and of course you were already looking at him through your hungry orbs, savoring the image of Jake’s craving your body.

"Now fuck me as desperate as you seem to be."

Your words hung in the air for seconds before Jake’s mind snapped away from your tempting view in the mirror; your boobs nearly jumping out of your neckline, lips swollen but carrying the same confidence, and your eyes. Your fucking eyes. Your devilish eyes. 

“Your desire is my pleasure, Y/N.” It was all Jake managed to say with his low, husky voice, before pushing deep into you.

Your mouth fell open with the breathtaking sensation of being filled up, and Jake began to slowly pump into you, giving you a little time to adjust. Or you thought so.

You still had no idea that he was already stepping near the edge of his own release, that being the reason for his deliberate hip rolls – there was no way in hell he was going to let the opportunity of enjoying your delicious squeezes around his dick slip away that easily.

“F–fuck,” his voice cracked as he whispered. “You f–feel amazing...”

You looked at Jake in the mirror after hearing how weakly his words came out, as if he were already lost in a haze of his own pleasure. And he truly was. A soft moan escaped your lips at the sight of his head tilted back, eyes closed, and mouth slightly parted, a faint smile gracing his lips.

When a specific deep thrust hit your g-spot, you almost cried out and Jake quickly paid attention to it. Then he bent you even more on the marble counter with one hand forcing your back, to ease his access to your sensitive area and help with his movements, speeding his hips the right amount to make you roll your eyes.

“T–that’s it...” You moaned. “Fucking me so good.” You praised and Jake groaned, his hands immediately sliding to cup one of your covered breasts, massaging it while keeping his pace, eyes locked at the insanely delightful view in the mirror.

A sequence of moans slipped out of your throat as Jake started fucking you hard and fast, desperately even. How your walls clenched tight around his cock was driving him insane, and he seeked for more of that addicting feeling.

The sound of the distant music did nothing to cover the slams sounds echoing the bathroom at that point, and honestly, neither of you cared anymore, far gone in your own pleasure.

At some point your own body started to encounter his pushes into you, but it wasn’t enough. So you straightened your posture a bit, tugging Jake’s hair while looking at his eyes in the mirror – his fucked up expression sending shivers down your spine. 

“Faster, Jake.” You urged, a bossy tone dripping out of your mouth like a sweet sugar that Jake grew obsessed with. And he instantly obeyed.

Your free hand cupped Jake’s on your boob and your eyes fluttered close while you tilted your head back, lost in the amazing feeling of Jake pounding into your g-spot, a mess of moans and whimpers coming from both of your mouths. 

Since he had his eyes open, Jake watched your body quivering with his thrusts, the fucking Prada logo on your dress shining with the dim light of the bathroom, your makeup slightly smeared due to the mess. It was completely out of this world how good you looked, and the way you were squeezing his dick together with the view, sent him even closer to the edge. 

“I’m gonna cum–” He said in one go, as an eager statement, not a warning, desperate to feel his release. 

Your breath started to quicken with his erratic pace, and you fluttered your eyes open again, catching the sight of Jake’s concentrated frown and mouth agape, letting out the prettiest moans you ever heard.

You said nothing, you just tightly gripped the hand on your chest and leaded it to your clit, inciting him to rub it for you. Jake got your message, and with all the overwhelming stimulus, your second orgasm hit, mouth falling open gasping for air as you supported yourself on the marble counter, your head falling forward while you kept on feeling Jake’s deep thrusts.

You clenched involuntarily around his dick, and that was enough for him to achieve his climax as well, resting his head on your shoulder, holding you close still.

Jake moved back with a hiss, completely dizzy and fulfilled. He removed the condom and tossed it onto the trashcan before dressing himself back again, helping you to recompose since your legs were shaky.

“Thank you,” you said in a hoarse voice when he offered you your purse and your panties, to which you decided not to wear again because, well, it was on the floor.

So you cheekily pushed into Jake’s pocket without saying a word, and he didn’t even noticed, too focused on looking out for you by supporting you to keep steady. 

You turned to the mirror, fixing your messy hair and makeup as best as you could. 

“How do we get out of this bathroom now?” Jake asked after the silence, watching you re-apply your red lipstick. 

You just smiled, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek to purposely leave a mark there. “Like this.” And you simply opened the door, not even caring about the instant stares you received as you did so, Jake following your lead right behind, a small shy smile adorning his lips. 

With a last goodbye look, you parted ways, your confidence evident in your stride, and Jake fumbling to smooth down his disheveled locks, now with the acknowledgment that the devil definitely wears Prada.

[dollgxtz]

Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???

Kindred Spirits

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3

AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33

“Finally…”

You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.

You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.

You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.

The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-

Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.

“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"

“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?

You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.

"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.

“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you’re so tired”.

“Hu-”

“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”

The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.

Deep down, you wanted to see him too.

You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.

The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.

“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.

“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”

“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.

“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.

When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.

“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.

“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.

Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?

Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.

Come here.

As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.

“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.

“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.

This man can definitely hold his alcohol.

He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.

“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”

“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.

“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.

“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.

“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”

You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.

“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.

“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.

Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!

"You're so...confusing" you mutter.

You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.

“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.

“Time for business, sweetie”

You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.

In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.

All that money and he can't fix his smile?

You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.

“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.

“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”

Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.

“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.

“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.

You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.

“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.

Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.

“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

Far too late to stop now though.

“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”

Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.

"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.

You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.

“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.

Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.

“I see where this is going then”.

You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.

You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.

“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”

You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.

“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.

“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.

"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.

You groan.

The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.

It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.

“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.

“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”

Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.

“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.

"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.

"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.

“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.

“Huh??”

“I don’t like to repeat myself”.

You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.

“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”

Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.

Oh. This was about that.

“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.

But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.

“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.

“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.

“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.

“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.

“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.

“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”

Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.

“For entertaining him” he says plainly.

Another smack.

“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”

An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.

“And lastly…”

You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.

“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”

You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.

“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.

“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.

This is far from over.

You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.

You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.

You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.

“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.

“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.

“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”

“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.

“Try again”

You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.

“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.

“And?”

You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?

“Hu-what?”

You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.

“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.

“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”

“Before that sweetie”

You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.

“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.

“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.

“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.

“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.

You decide to break the silence.

“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.

“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.

“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”

He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”

You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.

“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”

Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.

“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”

You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.

"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"

Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.

"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"

That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.

[starkeyisthelastname]

OHHH ANOTHER THOUGHT!!!!!!!

idk how the porn community works HALSJKS but if its a thing to like ….. ship them ig??? … how would rafe react to r’s video with another dude being posted on twitter (maybe the first vid she’s made since her vid with rafe) and everyone’s in the comments being like “omg yas this is so hot!!!” “omg this is so much better than her and rafe!!” BALJEKS IDK

the first time someone’s talked negatively about him and it’s actually effected him 😅 he doesn’t like this ego being bruised

It was rare that Rafe checked social media, he just didn’t care about what people thought. He was pornstar and was used to being judged for his career choice and especially for the brutal way he fucked his costars. It was the Twitter notification he got though, with his name and your name tagged along with someone else’s who he didn’t know that caught his attention.

He opened the video, his blue eyes darkening as soon as he saw what it was. It was some nobody with a dick half the size of his, trying to make you cum. He could tell by the moans you were giving that it was all an act, and it ignited something in him he didn’t like. Watching another man fuck you, even if it was your job wasn’t something he particularly was a fan of. He had always loved pussy and money, and never once thought of ever quitting his rather successful porn career for anyone, until you started occupying his mind all day every day. He just couldn’t bring himself to end it yet, his addiction to sex and money way too deep.

As he went to exit out the app, a comment caught his eye. “Wow. She’s a pro at taking dick.” He scoffed as he read it out loud. What dick were you takin? That clown was the size of a pinky compared to him. It was the next one down that had his head raging in a way he had never experienced. ‘Her and @therafecameron video was weak compared to this. 🤣’ He seethed, these stupid idiots comments getting to him and bruising his extremely high ego. His knee bounced rapidly, thumb at the edge of his mouth as his mind raced wildly.

It was the phone, turned into landscape mode as Rafe’s long arm aimed it down to let it capture you taking dick. His free hand was wrapped in your hair, yanking your head back as he drilled into you at a brutal speed. The makeup you had on was smeared, tears streaming down your sparkly cheeks as he had some point to prove. He didn’t exactly say what, but it was a chance to get fucked by the man you were becoming obsessed with.

“Who’s fucking dick are you takin?” Rafe asked, his voice dripping venom as he yanked your head to make you look at him. His blue eyes, peered down at you in a predatory manner as he forced you to give him an answer.

The answer you gave was incoherent, your words coming out in babbles as an insane amount of pleasure was taking over your body. Your eyes rolled back, his huge dick tearing you apart as he wrapped his fist around your hair even harder. The phone that was recording the raw homemade scene was now shoved in your face, his hand on your head forcing you to look at the lens.

You were still so pretty, completely cock drunk off his monstrous ways as you were being his good personal whore. He leaned down, mustache brushing over your ear as he looked at the camera. It was quite a sexy sight to see his wild hair and striking blue iris’s making eye contact with the phone. “Tell them who’s dick your fuckin takin.” He spoke lowly, eyes watching your face through the screen. “Don’t make me repeat myself, I swear you’ll fucking regret it.” He gritted out, toned hips slapping against yours.

You cried out, his hand removing itself from your head to force your chin to look at the camera. You had no choice but to let out a loud whine, screaming the man’s name that you just wanted as yours. “Rafe Cameron! I’m t-takin Rafe Cameron’s dick!” Your voice cracking as you clamped down onto his cock.

As soon as heard that, a smirk came to his face and his nuts tightened. He tilted your chin towards him, sloppily kissing you with his tongue as the camera caught something Rafe never did with anyone. If the kissing wasn’t enough to make people a little shocked, it was that he posted it to his Twitter account, caption reading ‘The only dick that can get her screaming 😱 remember the fucking name bitches.’

[missmugiwara]

A Secret

Summary: gn!reader x Luffy // What happens when you tell the captain a secret? Turns out, it makes him really happy! And he only wants more.

Warning: 18+, suggestive, very flirty, did I make Luffy a slight dom?

Note: I think one of my favorite things about writing for Luffy is that it's kind of hard. But he's my sweetie pie so I'm not complaining.

✦ Word count is 2.2k ✦

Luffy's strength was no secret.

Everyone knew that. It was also no secret that he always got stronger. Sometimes, it seemed like the Straw Hat Pirates were always moving from one adventure to the next, never taking a break. So how did Luffy have the time between fights to find new moves and new gears to try?

Maybe he didn't do it as much as Zoro, but there were instances where you caught the captain training. Sometimes it was on boring days like today where you happened to be parked at some random island for Franky to do routine maintenance to the Sunny.

Luffy's breath was heavy, mouth wide open to release hot pants. His red ruffle-sleeved shirt and yellow sash were chucked off to the side, bunched in a sloppy pile on the ground with his precious straw hat gingerly laid on top. His scarred chest heaved with each breath he took, muscles tensing deliciously. A thin layer of sweat covered his entire body, forming delicate beads of moisture to glisten in the sun. His hair splayed across his forehead and around his face in cute, damp waves from the moisture. It was certainly a sight to behold. The captain was positively mouthwatering, and only one thing crossed your mind at that moment.

You loved him so much.

It was always so hard to take your eyes off him. With feet crunching against the grass, you walked up some distance behind him and just silently admired. A tender smile etched its way onto your lips, and you sighed longingly at Luffy. He had one fist pulled back, while his other free hand - palm outstretched, thumb pointed downward - took aim at the air, and he punched. He repeated this move again and again, grunting and panting the entire time. As he continued with that focused, steady gaze in his eyes. As beads of sweat flew off his body.

He was so strong.

Did anyone ever tell him he looked so good?

A warm heat feathered over your cheeks, and your eyes perked up at the thought. And so, feeling rather bold, you snickered and took a step forward. You almost changed your mind. Then, using every ounce of courage, you merrily called after him.

"Luffy!"

The rubber man turned lazily to the call of his name. With an open-mouth releasing more pants, he tiredly smiled. And then his gaze grew more excited when he registered it was you of all people who called with such adoration. You, who was running toward him. You, who he could never get mad at. You, who lit up with joy every moment you saw him.

The sweetest face he had ever seen, and all his. Well, you were your own person - he didn't own you, and he knew that. But you were his. Somehow. His crewmate. His friend. His… something.

One day, he would gladly say the words: you're so much more to him. That much he knew, but what word could he use? Luffy always knew how to get right to the heart of things that needed saying most - but not today. Seeing your smile was enough, and there was way too much on his mind regarding everyone's safety in Wano.

"Do you wanna know a secret?" you grinned.

A secret? And just for his ears only? He already felt special enough with that smile you gave him. Nobody else ever got that smile.

You slowed to a stop when you collided into his back, pressing your chest to him. You didn't give him a chance to answer when you wrapped one arm around him, gently slapping your hand to his chest. The sweat upon him sticking you to him, and you did not care in the slightest how much it made your shirt wet. With the other free hand, you cupped it to his ear.

"Hey, did you know…" and you whispered into his ear, lips brushing against the shell of it as Luffy's eyes slowly widened.

The words were nearly lost in the breeze.

A red blush dusted over his cheeks, and his lips parted in response. Before he could turn and ask if you reeeally meant what you just said, you giggled and peeled yourself from him. You stepped back, hands clasped innocently behind your back and grinning so much that your eyes clamped shut.

"Huh? Really?" Luffy asked in disbelief.

"Oh, yes!" you nodded your head erratically.

Luffy still stared in shock, and you still smiled. There was a pause before the captain blinked at you, then smirked. He stood a bit taller and a bit prouder, puffing out his chest. He turned back but to a tree this time, taking his usual fighting stance. His fist flew back, and then forward as he launched it into the tree - completely breaking it in two as it fell to the ground with a loud thud. A few of your friends looked up in worry at the loud noise, then disregarded it once they realized it was just Luffy being Luffy. You beamed widely as ever, before giving a wave and returning to your spot next to Robin. She was seated underneath an umbrella and sipping tea.

She smiled and poured a cup for you. Trying not to come off as pyring, she asked, "What did you tell Luffy to put him in such a good mood?"

You grabbed the cup of tea and smiled profusely. She wouldn't dare tease you like the others if you answered honestly. Robin could be told things you could not tell others. And she knew you liked the captain very much so.

"I just told him… well, I said: hey, did you know that you're really sexy?"

Robin seemed surprised at the unexpectedly brazen comment. She was looking down at her cup, then her blue eyes immediately darted to meet yours. You said that to Luffy? A pause before she grinned.

"Oh? Is that so? I'm happy for you."

And Luffy seemed pretty happy about it too.

It was a major risk you took that day, but since then you were smitten even moreso because he responded in such a… pleasant way. So Luffy was the kind of person who understood sex appeal. It was settled then - you wanted to flirt more. You wanted to be more vocal about how you felt. To drop more hints, as ironic as it was because Luffy didn't need subtlety; he needed blunt words. However, the rising butterflies in your stomach told you that testing the waters was further needed. It was really just an excuse to cover up a rising bout of shyness.

It seemed he was not as naïve as his crewmates thought, and he truly understood this game. And really, how did anyone not notice how attractive he was? Zoro and Sanji got attention all the time, but what about the captain? The star of the crew? He was certainly charming in his own ways. And so this game of yours did not let up anytime soon.

"Who's that good-looking guy in the straw hat?"

You waved at him, calling out with a hand cupped to your mouth. Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji walked toward the ship after being in town to buy supplies. Each of them had sacks of food tied to their backs, and Luffy broke out into a huge ear-to-ear smile. He laughed, a blush ever-present at his face. Zoro rolled his eyes, and Sanji's smile faded when he realized - oh, you were speaking to the captain, not him.

"Me? Oh, stop!" and Luffy would blush and blush, identical to the way he blushed when any of his crewmates said he was strong or reliable. The sight was too cute not to eat up. At least he was getting it now, because the first time you said that Luffy whipped his head around. With squinted eyes, he kept asking who was this guy until you bursted out laughing. This was really funny because it was so cute and so like him to do that.

"What a man."

You would purr so lowly when he passed by, especially if he had just defended the weak and beat someone up - panting, sweaty, delicious as usual. Boy, was being in Wano such a treat. Luffy's ears would prick at the sound of your honeyed tone, and sometimes they turned red. He would quickly turn to meet your lidded gaze, your eyes wandering up and down his shirtless self - and the blush would return to his face. He would break out into a loud laugh after he processed the words you graced him with.

The flirting was fun, truly. Yet sometimes you wondered if anything more would happen after all the effort. It had to, right?

What were you even waiting for?

Such questions did not cross your mind at this particular moment though. As usual, Robin and you were passing the time once again while the Sunny sailed off to another adventure. The topic of conversation was another good book you both had read in your little two-person bookclub. Luffy walked by, a tiny smirk at his lips, as you and Robin laughed about something silly in the last chapter.

Luffy froze once he got past far enough. Something was off. Quickly, he whipped his head around to furrow his brows in frustration. He pointed his gaze at you… and pouted. A cute grumble escaped his lips, and with his fists balled to his sides and arms swaying, he tromped right over.

Between the fits of laughter and conversing, you didn't even hear Luffy's feet crunch in the grass behind you - picking up speed. And what really took you by surprise was when one of Luffy's rubbery hands suddenly grasped your jaw between his thumb and fingers, and he turned your face so you could see him. It went without saying that the laughter immediately stopped, and you and the archaelogist froze in place.

You blinked once. Luffy just held your face, not enough to hurt you because he would never, as you two locked gazes. His breath felt hot on your lips. In turn, your own breath was caught in your chest as your face ignited into flustered heat because - well, because he never held you like this and at such closeness too. Something must have been troubling him.

"What's… what's wrong, captain?"

Oh, you were right about something being wrong. Luffy cocked his head to the side in an attempt to deepen his focus. He was really studying your face, and it only got warmer the more he stared.

"You didn't say anything!" he whined.

Another blink or two from you, and Luffy's grip loosened on your face.

"Loofs, I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"You didn't say anything… you know - fun and nice. To me. Like you always do."

Another moment for you to process, and the lightbulb went off in your head. Ohhh! He wanted another - oh, yes. You almost wanted to laugh because apparently it was really that much of a habit by now.

How dare you forget to take care of your precious captain?

With face still in his hand, your eyes darted off to the side. For the third time, your cheeks went even hotter. And you didn't know why this bout of shyness ran over you all of a sudden. Perhaps it was because you were the one always catching him off guard, flustering him so deeply. Not the other way around. So you took a second to think, but you hadn't planned anything yet for that day. So in a small voice, you answered him quickly, truthfully, and without much thought.

"Hottie."

You nearly moaned under your breath. The blush dusting over his rubbery cheeks and the wide smile he bore was enough to let you know he was satisfied. Robin sat in awe (you two completely forgot she was still there) but then brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle.

And Luffy grinned.

"Keep talking like that. I like it!"

Oh, the way he looked at you made your heart thrum in your chest. The way he held your face, making you lock eyes. Gently, he released your frazzled self. Your jaw dropped into a suprised, open-mouthed smile. Trying to ignore the fact that Luffy said he liked it, you diverted your attention to the first part of his somewhat confession.

"Oh, you think you can boss me around like that, huh?" You smirked, taking a playful tone to let him know you were joking.

Luffy was walking away, but he paused midstep. He turned his head to peek over his shoulder, his bright eyes staring directly into your soul. The wind blew to ruffle his jet black hair and the brim of his beloved straw hat before his eyes grew lidded.

"Of course! I'm the captain here. Besides… you looove doing what I say. You always do, and you never refuse."

With that, he walked off.

And there you sat, flustered to oblivion as you brought a hand to to cover your growing smile. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Robin wink.

[blingblong55]

Sex is on fire- Simon "Ghost" Riley NSFW

Kinktober Day 14

Based on a request: I recently saw my husband in the yard working and fuck did he look so sexy. So now I can't help but imagine Ghost as my husband, working in the yard and there's a spontaneous fuck. He's hot and so is this idea ---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, smut, P-in-V, oral!sex, unprotected!sex, husband!ghost, wife!reader, exhibition? ----

A/N: we won't talk about the first time I posted this, got it? great, thanks <3

The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the overgrown garden, highlighting the faded stones of the path winding through it. He looks at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Hot, huh? Well, I aim to please," he says with a playful wink, trying to match your lighthearted tone.

He spots the sledgehammer leaning against the shed and picks it up, testing its weight in his hands. Then, with a growl of effort, he swings it at the nearest stone, cracking it neatly in half. Simon grunts with satisfaction, sweat already beading on his brow as he continues down the path, methodically demolishing each stone. His muscles flex with each swing, rippling beneath his shirt.

He pauses after a few minutes, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "This is actually... kind of fun," he admits with a grin. "Cathartic, like you said. Feels good to just let loose and destroy something." He looks at you, his eyes brighter than they were earlier. "Thanks for this. For knowing exactly what I needed, even when I didn't."

He steps closer, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before returning to the path, ready to continue his destructive work. You bite your lip as you keep your eyes on him, “Mm, fucking sexy… wow,” you smile and lean back, god, does he look so sexy. “You keep going until you’ve had enough, handsome face.”

Simon pauses mid-swing, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow. A slow, heated grin spreads across his face at your words.

"Oh? Is that so?" he asks, his voice dropping an octave as he sets the sledgehammer aside and stalks towards you."Watching me work up a sweat gets you all hot and bothered, does it?"

He reaches you and leans close, his breath ghosting over your ear. "Maybe I should take a break and give you something else to bite those pretty lips of yours," he murmurs, nipping lightly at your earlobe. His hands come to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the heat of his skin through his clothes, the hard planes of his body.

"Or maybe," he continues, his voice a low rumble. "You want to join me? Help me work off some steam?" He rocks his hips against yours, letting you feel his growing arousal.

"I could put that tongue of yours to good use," he suggests with a wicked grin. "Keep me company while I finish tearing up this path." He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyes dark with desire. "What do you say, beautiful? Want to get your hands dirty with me?"

“I’m not picking up a sledgehammer, but I’ll happily get my mouth dirty." you wink. Simon's eyes darken with lust at your suggestive words. He grins wolfishly, his hands tightening on your hips.

"Mmm, now that's an offer I can't refuse," he purrs, his voice low and rough with desire. "Get on your knees for me, baby. Let's see how well you can use that pretty mouth of yours."

He guides you down to the ground, his strong hands supporting your back. Once you're kneeling before him, he steps back and starts to unbuckle his belt, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Remember, no biting unless I tell you to," he teases, his eyes locked with yours as he unzips his pants. "Unless you want to earn yourself a punishment later."

He tugs his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, his hard cock springing free. It juts out from his body, thick and throbbing, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. "Fuck, look at you," he groans, wrapping a hand around himself and giving a slow stroke. "On your knees for me, so eager to please. Such a good girl." He steps closer, his cock bobbing mere inches from your face. "Open wide, baby. Show me what that mouth can do."

“Fuck, you see… this is why I enjoy watching you,” you say before taking his cock into your mouth. You take his hand and place it on the back of your head. You look up and begin to bob your head, your eyes rolling back a bit, gagging but enjoying the thickness of his size.

Simon groans deeply as you take him into your mouth, his head falling back in pleasure. His hand comes to rest gently on the back of your head, holding you in place as you work. "Fuck, Y/N," he grunts, his hips rocking slightly to meet your bobbing motions. "Just like that, baby. Take it deep."

His cock pulses against your tongue, the taste of him filling your mouth. He's thick and hard, stretching your lips obscenely around his girth. You gag slightly as you force yourself down further, taking him into your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you don't pull away, determined to please him.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained with arousal. "Choke on it. Fuck, you look so good with your lips wrapped around me." He tightens his grip on your hair, guiding your movements. You relax your throat, letting him fuck your face, using your mouth for his pleasure. "Gonna... fuck... I'm gonna cum," he warns, his thrusts becoming erratic."Swallow it all, baby. Every fucking drop."

With a final, guttural moan, he releases, flooding your mouth with his hot seed. You swallow reflexively, milking him for all he's worth. "Fuck yes," he gasps, riding out the waves of his orgasm. "Such a good girl, taking it so well."

Finally, he pulls away, letting you catch your breath. You sit back on your heels, looking up at him with a satisfied smile, his cum glistening on your lips. Simon smirks down at you, his eyes hooded with satisfaction. He tucks himself back into his pants and zips up, then reaches down to pull you to your feet.

"Mmm, you're insatiable today," he chuckles, brushing a thumb over your cum-slicked lips. "Not that I'm complaining. I love seeing you like this - so hungry for me." He leans in and captures your mouth in a deep, filthy kiss, licking the taste of himself from your tongue. You moan into the kiss, your body pressing eagerly against his.

"Fuck, I need to finish this path," he pants when he finally breaks away. "But first, I think I need a little more motivation." His hands slide down to cup your ass, squeezing roughly.

"How about you strip down and bend over one of these garden benches for me?" he suggests, his eyes glinting with wicked promise. "Let me fuck you right here in the yard, where anyone could see what a dirty slut you are for your husband." He punctuates his words with a sharp smack to your rear, making you yelp.

"What do you say, baby? Want me to split you open on my cock while you watch me work? I bet you'd love that, wouldn't you?" You nod eagerly, "Oh... fuck yes, I want that, I want that so bad," you say with need. What more can a wife say? No? Her husband looks so fucking sexy when he does manual labour and asks to fuck her in their backyard and she is meant to say no? Fuck that shit.

Simon grins wickedly at your eager response. He gives your ass another hard smack before stepping back.

"Strip," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument. "And bend over that bench. I want to see that pretty pussy on display for me."

You waste no time obeying. Hastily shedding your clothes, you position yourself over the garden bench, your legs spread wide. The cool wood against your bare skin makes you shiver with anticipation.

Simon takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, his eyes roaming over your exposed body appreciatively. "Fuck, look at you," he groans, palming himself through his pants. "So perfect, so ready for me. I'm gonna ruin you, Y/N. Gonna fuck you so hard you forget your name."

He moves behind you, running his hands over your curves possessively. Then, without warning, he drives his cock into you with one hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

"Yes!" he hisses, gripping your hips tightly. "Take it, baby. Take every fucking inch." He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you relentlessly. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the yard, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

"That's it, fucking take it," he growls, one hand coming up to fist in your hair, pulling your head back. "You love this, don't you? Love being used like a cheap whore by your husband." He angles his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. "Gonna fill this cunt up, pump you full of my cum. Everyone's gonna know who you belong to after this."

You moan, your back arches, “Oh… fuck… ah… ngh~” It's too fucking much but it is so fucking good.

Simon pounds into you harder, spurred on by your desperate moans. His fingers dig into your hips, leaving bruises in their wake. "That's it, baby," he pants, his voice strained with impending release. "Cum for me. Cum on my cock like the dirty little slut you are." He reaches around to rub your clit in rough circles, sending you careening over the edge. Your pussy clenches around him, milking his cock as you come undone.

"Fuck, Y/N!" he roars, slamming into you one last time before stilling, his cock pulsing as he fills you with his seed. "Take it, fucking take it all." He collapses against your back, both of you panting heavily in the aftermath. After a moment, he pulls out, watching with satisfaction as his cum drips down your thighs. "Look at the mess I made," he chuckles, swiping some on his fingers and bringing it to your lips. "Clean up your mess, baby. Taste what I gave you."

As you lick his fingers clean, he tucks himself away and zips up. Then he turns back to the broken path, picking up the sledgehammer once more. "Why don't you go inside and get cleaned up?" he suggests his voice already back to its usual gruff tone. "I'll finish up here and join you in a bit. Maybe we can go for round two in the shower, hm?"

He winks at you over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the debris, swinging the hammer with renewed vigour, his earlier tension seemingly melted away.

Tags:

@liyanahelena @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @lovelyvqer @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @mychemichalimbalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycat @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @azkza @VampyTheGoth

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

The Fight || Billy The Kid x reader

Summary: Billy involves himself in a physical fight over you.

Warnings: violence, swearing, blood

Wc: 1,347

A/n: uh- this is my very first time writing a Billy fic so pls bear w me (especially w how they talk and stuff) bc in the the series I don’t really find Billy talking like how ppl write abt him (absolutely not hate whatsoever to those who do, I absolutely love ur fics find you all so talented 😭) so I’ll try my best to be as accurate as I can. Do let me know if I make a mistake so I can improve :)

Divider by @pommecita

"I'd fuck her any day if she wasn't whoring herself for him," Ollinger slurs, throwing his head back to let the contents of the bottle run down his throat as the men around him laugh. Billy's head pikes up at the sound. Typical Ollinger, talking about some woman as if she was an object.

Billy watches from the other side of the room as he continues to talk to them, his voice becoming louder by the second. "hot for a fucking gringo, and that's saying something," He shakes his head his eyes half close by how wasted he was.

"Wonder how Billy would feel if I had her, don't think he's too keen on sharin?" He nudges the guy beside him before bursting out laughing. Hearing this, he realises that Ollinger was talking about you. Calling you a whore.

He slammed the bottle in his hand down on the table making a loud noise. Pat Garrett and Jessie slightly flinch before they look up at Billy who was already standing, fuming.

"What's goin' on?" Pat asks, his eyes trying to follow Billy's line of gaze. Billy doesn't answer, instead, he storms over to where Bob Ollinger was and his friends. They were all laughing until one of the guys ushered everyone and tapped Ollinger to face Billy.

He slowly turned around, seemingly not bothered by Billy's presence or the fact that he towered over him. "Have something to say 'bout my girl Ollinger? Hm?" He stands his ground, taking another swig of his alcohol as he maintains eye contact with Billy. Everyone in the room had quietened down, eyes trained on the two who never got along.

"Maybe. Wanna hear what I gotta say Billy?" He smirks as Pat Garret and Jessie had already stood up from where they were. Billy narrows his eyes at the man. "I think she's a pretty little gringa you got there, but she needs a real man, not some kid like you-" "You're fucking pathetic, y'know that?" Billy spat, venom laced in his words.

Ollinger seemed to have sobered up when he said that. He looked at Billy with pure rage. "What’d you call me, boy." His blood was boiling at this point. "I said." Billy steps closer, "You're fucking pathetic." He threw a punch at his jaw as Ollinger falls back from the impact and his lack of balance.

At this point the room was cheering the two on as they throw punches at each other. Ollinger swings at Billy but misses, he was glad he wasn't drinking as much that night. He then lunges and aims towards Billy's stomach, knocking him onto the table as all its contents fell on the floor. "C'mon Billy get up!" Garrett pushes him back up.

Billy had a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow as a trail of blood fell down the side of his face. However, it was nothing compared to the damage he did on Ollinger. "Call a whore one more time, I dare you," Billy yelled, throwing punch after punch as he was on top of him. "Billy! Billy stop!" Billy heard your familiar voice but didn't stop. All he could see was red.

From the moment you stepped foot out of your carriage that dropped you off in front of the pub, you knew a brawl of some sort was going on inside by the way you could hear cheers and the noise of furniture being knocked over.

You hurriedly walk in. You couldn't see what was going on over the tall people who stood in front of you. Weaving your way through the crowd to try and see what the commotion was about, you bumped into Jessie. "Woah there-" "Jessie, what's going on? Where's Billy?" You quickly ask him before your eyes fall onto him.

He was on top of Ollinger, throwing punch after punch. Your eyes widen in horror as you try to go to him but was held back by Jessie who had an arm around your shoulder. "Let me go! I need to stop him Jessie!" You struggle against his iron like grip. "Can't have you get involved in fight, sweetheart. Can’t let you goin' home with a scratch on your pretty face now can I?"

He says against the side of your face as you squirm, helplessly watching the fight. There was blood everywhere and you feared that Billy had killed Ollinger. "Jessie!" You thrash in his grip before he gives Garrett a look who nods and quickly breaks up the fight.

"That's enough, Billy. You got what you wanted," Pat and few other guys pulled Billy back who was breathing heavily, blood covered his shirt and hands. Billy spits on the ground. "All right, show's over!" Jessie yells as people start leaving. Ollinger gets pulled up by a few others as he's dragged away, his body limp.

"Don't you fucking go near her! You hear me Ollinger?" Billy yells before he spits more blood out. "Enough, Billy!" You exasperated, kneeling beside him to take his face in your hands, inspecting it.

Thank god there wasn’t much damage, only a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow. “For god’s sake Billy! What happened now?” You search his eyes as he stares back at you, blankly. You catch Pat and Jessie looking at you before their eyes find the floor rather interesting. You stand up, dress already spotted in crimson as you brush the loose strands of your hair behind your ears, “What happened here?”

~

You made a beeline to your bathroom. Billy closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed, he let out a groan before falling back onto the soft mattress. He starts to sit up when he hears you walk back in, a first aid kit in your hands.

You hadn't spoken a word to him since the two of you left the pub and came back to your house. You were grateful that your parents were away for the week, they would have thrown a fit if they saw you covered in blood and Billy batted up.

Moving to stand in between his legs, Billy lifts his hands up to rest on your hips but you slap his hands away. "Darlin'-" "I don't want to hear it Billy," You say, annoyance dripping from you voice as he hisses at the contact of disinfectant on his cut.

Billy lets out a sigh, his eyes trained on your angel like face as you attend to his face. "I'm sorry, I really am-" "Five times. Five times you've gotten into a fight because of me." You scoff, tilting his head firmly as you go over his eyebrow.

"You told me you would stop Billy. I can't keep playing nurse with you because you can't bite your tongue," You make eye contact with him. "You expect me to just sit around and do nothing when some guy is calling you my whore?" Billy's voice gets louder as he furrows his eyebrows at you.

You gulp, eyes looking everywhere but him. "Look at me!" He grips your chin with his thumb and index finger, "You've known me long enough to know I ain't that type of guy," He spoke, his eyes darkening.

"And you've known me long enough to know that I can handle whatever they call me. I don't need you getting into a fight every time someone foul mouths me," Your eyes begin to water. You hated seeing Billy like this. You hated how most of his fights revolved around the topic of you.

"They're all worth it, doll. You're worth it." Billy wipes away the singular tear that managed to escape. You sniffle lightly before he pulls you onto his lap, your arms securing themselves around his neck as he strokes your hair.

"Try not to get into another fight because of me," You mutter, your fingers drawing random shapes on his back as you hear him chuckle, "Can't keep any promises, darlin'" He kisses your hair as the two of you hold each other.

[flawless-peach]

activities to improve your life

(in no way do you have to do these or all of them in order to improve, these ade just little things to do to help you feel good about yourself <3)

- go on walks outside, or just get outside in someway. in the summers my boyfriend and I would walk a couple blocks to get a snowcone. now that's its spring I walk to the gas station near by to pick up energy drink for my boyfriend (spring semester)

- wake up earlier, now this one is important to me because I am a huge morning person and so is everyone in my family. but some people aren't naturally morning people. so dont feel like im saying wake up at 5am. I more mean wake up with enough time to enjoy your morning and look forward to the day, you don't want to rush to get ready

- drink an appropriate amount of water, I personally aim for about 60oz now, which I don't hot everyday, but when I first started trying to drink more water I started out with 20oz because I just wasn't drinking water. so don't push yourself because you'll only hate the water rather than appreciate what it can do for you

- journal every day. I normally don't journal about my day until the next morning as I reflect on the previous day, because I don't want the day to "end" before it's actually over. but I try to write reviews about episodes of the shows i like or take notes over my audiobooks and try to think about why I like/dislike them. I find that this helps me so that whenever I start getting emotionally overwhelmed to slow down and put into words what's wrong rather than just being overwhelmed

- working out to feel good rather than look good. I've had a terrible relationship with my body most of my life and so by working out to feel good i have different goals and schedules i followed than when I was trying to lose weight, and it's helping like my body even if it's not changing how it looks. I try to exercise at least 3 days a week, but if I don't feel good enough to i don't force myself (the walks outside are exercise too, so thats also helping me feel good even if I eat a snowcone immediately afterwards ^^)

- positive affirmations. I really struggle with this one, but I have a widget on my phone that rotates through different ones and im liking the ones that are good and at the end of the week in my journal I wrote them all out.

- look for long lasting happiness over short term happiness. this one is a lot harder i just wanted to add it on the end because sometimes I put off doing something I know will make me happy in the end because of short term gratification. I normally feal with this by letting them merge if I can (so like everything shower tiktoks while I get ready for my shower)

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Spoiled beyond his wildest dreams, Bradley tries to take some time to appreciate everything he has on his birthday, but it can be hard to contain his excitement.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, oral sex, anal sex, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley was eager. He didn't want you to know how eager, but he was sure it was obvious by now.

"Your cheeks are pink," you whispered, cupping them in both of your hands as he buckled you in. "Did all the dancing and hot sauce get to you?"

"Something like that," he murmured, kissing you so thoroughly, you gasped when he pulled away. The look you gave him beneath the dome light was indecent as he dragged his hand up your body and between your breasts so he could stroke your chin and your perfect cheek. Oh, you absolutely knew why his face was flushed and his hands were so grabby. But it was your fault anyway.

"Should we head home for the night?" you asked innocently.

As if you hadn't been talking about how your ass was all his since this morning.

Fuck. Every year, you gave him the most perfect birthday. When he turned thirty-six, you took him to La Jolla, and he couldn't wait to take you back there next week when your parents came out to watch Rose. Last year when he turned thirty-seven, he fucked you so hard in the backseat of your wretched little Honda Civic, he totaled the thing. At least you got pregnant with Rose that night.

And this year, he got to spend the evening reminiscing and enjoying the company of his wife and his daughter. He couldn't even remember how fucking bad every other birthday was between the year he lost his mom and when he turned thirty-five right before he met you. Since then, he'd been treated like a king. Today was no different. Tonight would follow suit.

"Yeah," he grunted, "let's go home."

The drive back to Coronado was mostly quiet while Rose slept. You had your hand on Bradley's thigh, and he had his hand on top of yours.

"You're excited," you whispered into the darkness. "I can practically feel your anticipation, Roo."

"Oh, fuck," he groaned. He was a complete mess for you tonight, and you knew it. He might as well just say it, but he didn't want you to think you didn't satisfy him all the time. He ran his left hand over his face when he stopped at a red light. "I'm really horny, Sweetheart. Somehow you know just what to do that's going to make me go wild. You've always known."

He could feel you preening next to him as the light turned green, and he hit the accelerator. "I like making you excited on your birthday."

"You do this to me every day," he insisted.

A few minutes later, he was rushing Rose inside in her car seat, and you were locking the door behind him. "I'll put her down in her crib if you put Tramp outside?"

You were already heading for the sliding glass door as you said, "I'll meet you in our bedroom."

He grunted in response, unclipping Rose from her carrier and depositing her gently in her crib. "I'll come back to change your diaper," he promised, straightening out her outfit. 

He needed to calm the fuck down, because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. But when he walked into the bedroom, you made eye contact before pulling your dress over your head and tossing it onto the floor.

"You're killing me," he groaned, already working at his shirt buttons as you climbed into bed in your matching red lace bra and thong. He wrenched the fabric over his head and nearly fell down as he tried to take his shoes and jeans off at the same time. 

Just as he was about to dive in bed after you, he watched you hold up your hand and whisper, "Go get the lube from the bathroom drawer, birthday boy."

Bradley felt dizzy as he turned toward the open doorway and dug around inside your drawer until he was rewarded with exactly what he needed. Armed with the water based lube and a massive boner, this time he did dive into bed with you. The bottle came to rest next to your head, and you giggled as he dipped down into a push up to kiss you.

"You are eager."

"There's no point in lying, Sweetheart. I am fucking eager." 

It was almost better that this was a rare occurrence for him, because he just knew how good it was going to be as you tilted your chin up to kiss him. He could feel your hands on his abs before they slid inside his underwear. His eyes fluttered closed against the feel of your fingers teasing him, and he whispered, "I'm already turned on. Let me turn you on, too."

As he worked his way down your body, he felt your hands on his face. "Don't look at my belly," you whispered, pushing him further down toward your pussy.

"I like your belly," he grunted, pulling your underwear down so he could get to your tattoo and kiss you everywhere. "I like everything about you. Why do you think I'm so turned on?"

"Because you're about to have anal sex."

"With my wife." Bradley's lips skimmed your pussy as he spoke. "I'm turned on, because I've been thinking about you. And how fucking hot you are. And about the fact that you trust me not to hurt you. And how you let know every intimate inch of your body."

"Roo," you whimpered as he licked your pussy before kissing you there.

"I don't really care if we have anal sex tonight or never again," he said, looking up your body and meeting your gaze as your fingers gripped his hair. "But don't act like the mere notion of me getting to explore and enjoy your body isn't going to drive me wild. You know me. You know what you do to me."

He watched your lace covered chest rise and fall as you sighed deeply. Bradley took your thighs in his hands as you spread your legs wider for him. "I want you to enjoy every inch of me."

He ran his nose through your slick warmth, kissing you everywhere while he said, "You're absolutely fucking perfect, Baby Girl."

-----------------------------

You weren't expecting to feel emotional tonight, but while your husband ate your pussy, leaving you a squirming, writhing mess in the middle of the bed, your heart skipped a beat as you replayed his words. 

I like everything about you. Why do you think I'm so turned on?

He told you so frequently that he thought you were perfect, and you kind of felt perfect as you sucked in deep breaths in nothing but your red bra while he gave you an absolutely killer orgasm.

"Oh god," you whined, your right heel digging into his back as he sucked on your clit and hit that mind-blowing spot inside you with two firm fingers. Bradley knew just what to do because you'd willingly let him explore your body to his heart's content for years. And you wanted him to have more, because you knew he'd give you more in return.

When your back arched off the bed and you came for him, you saw colorful stars at the edge of your vision. It was just that damn good. It took you a few seconds to catch your breath, but when you did, you rolled onto your stomach and looked back at him.

"It's your birthday, not mine," you whispered, and he raised one eyebrow before crawling until his body was covering yours. "Why am I the one getting all the orgasms?"

"Because I love you," he replied, kissing your cheek. You could feel his erection against the back of your thigh, and you wiggled your rear end against him until he groaned. "If you keep teasing me with that thing, I'm going to make a mess all over you."

You didn't try to hide your smile as you said, "Go ahead and make a mess inside me. Just go slow so it doesn't hurt."

His dark eyes widened a bit. "In your ass?" When you nodded, he asked, "Are you sure?"

"I'm absolutely sure, birthday boy."

But he didn't jump right to it. He carefully unhooked your bra and slid it down your shoulders so he could kiss the full expanse of your back. "You're so fucking soft," he whispered. His lips and mustache left your skin extra sensitive as he sucked along the back of your neck until you were moaning his name. "That sounds so pretty." Then you felt his hands rough against your ass and your thighs before he made himself at home, lapping at your pussy from behind. You knew you were still wet, and he used your slick to coat up your asshole with his tongue, big hands gripping you.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, and you groaned a garbled answer letting him know that yes, it did. "Want me to keep going?"

You could feel his finger at your opening, and you whimpered. "As long as you use the lube."

He did, and he worked at you for a while, never rushing you to the next stage before you were comfortable. His fingers were thick, but you knew how big his cock was, and you balled your fists up in the sheets and got onto your knees when you were ready for him.

The stretch felt good. Bradley's body behind yours was like a dream, and his voice in your ear as he pushed himself incrementally deeper made you relax. "Jesus Christ," he rasped. "My god, Sweetheart. Oh, fuck." His lips were on your shoulder, and then his face was tucked against your neck as he whined softly, chest heaving against your back. You felt almost too full as his hips met your ass. "Am I hurting you?"

When you wiggled in response, Bradley's nose dug into the side of your neck, a string of expletives flowing from his lips. "It feels almost good," you promised. "Like I couldn't be more full."

"If I move, I'll cum," he groaned. "But I really, really fucking want to move."

You rolled your hips against him, and it didn't hurt, but now his forearms were shaking, and his knuckles were white, and you knew how hard he was trying to keep himself still. "You can thrust slowly."

He did. He gave you three long, languid thrusts where you felt every bit of him, and then you knew by the sounds he was making that he was almost there. One more wiggle from you, and he was up on his knees with his hands gripping your hips, filling your ass with his cum.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he crooned, withdrawing himself inch by inch until you heard him say, "that's so goddamn pretty." His fingers were smoothing along your pussy up to where you could feel the mess he made on your skin. "What a perfect ass."

Then he was a fatigued mess, sprawled out on his back on the bed, pulling you closer to him. "Happy birthday," you whispered, and he looked up at you with pink cheeks and wide eyes.

"I am so spoiled by my wife."

"You are, Roo. It's insane."

---------------------------------

After a quick trip to the nursery to change Rose into a sleeper, Bradley coaxed you into the shower with him where he took the time to clean both of you up. "It's almost midnight, Daddy. Did you enjoy your day?"

"You know I did. It was absolutely perfect."

"There's cake for you in the kitchen."

He narrowed his eyes. "Are you still talking about your ass, or..."

"Actual cake," you told him with a laugh. "I baked it the other day and then hid it." He honestly didn't know how he deserved to be treated this well, but he always tried his best to do the same for you. He was too in love not to.

You definitely seemed to be less self conscious now as he ran his hand down your belly before using it to give you a soft smack on the ass. "I would love to have any and all of your various types of cake." He leaned down to kiss the tops of your breasts. "Rosie will probably wake up soon wanting to eat. That's literally the only thing holding me back from going to town on these bad boys."

Your laughter filled the room. "I think you've just about reached your treat limit for the day. But the cake in the kitchen is lemon."

"My favorite," he whispered, kissing your lips. "You're the best."

Once you were both towel dried and dressed for bed, Bradley scooped you up and carried you into the kitchen. "A year ago, I was fucking a baby into you."

"You fucked a baby into me, and you fucked up my car beyond repair. That was a big night for you, Bradley." When he set you down on the counter, you yelped.

"What?" he asked as you cling onto him instead.

"My asshole is sore," you whispered, eyes wide.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

You smiled which made him smile. "I just wasn't expecting it," you said with a laugh as you slid down his body until you were standing. "It's not terrible. Kind of a nice reminder of your birthday present." You reached for the lemon cake which had apparently been hiding with the pots and pans for days when you gasped. "I forgot! I got you another present."

Bradley watched you run into the spare room at the bottom of the stairs, and a moment later, you returned with a gift wrapped in red paper with a silver bow on it.

"Before you open it, please remember that you did ask for this."

Curiosity got the best of him. The day was already too good to be true, but when he tore into the paper, he knew what it was almost immediately. "Another sexy calendar," he moaned, and then his eyes bugged out. "A pregnant, sexy calendar."

"That's what you wanted," you repeated when he looked at you. "I had the photographer take them before you met me at the beach for maternity photos."

He absolutely did remember asking for it, but he couldn't believe you actually did it for him. January was a photo of you in your red bikini, pregnant with Rosie, hand resting on your belly. February was you wearing some kind of flowy dress that left nothing to the imagination. March was you in your unbuttoned jean shorts with your hands over your breasts, adorable bump front and center. April had you in a top with your tits practically spilling out of it.

"Incredible," he murmured, mesmerized by May where you were playing in the water in a wet, white tee shirt.

"You like it?" you asked as you sliced up some birthday cake.

"It's fantastic," he groaned when he got to June. It was a close up of your face and tits in that same wet shirt. "Holy hell." You were holding out a forkful of cake to him. "Are you going to make me a sexy calendar every year for my birthday?" he asked before taking the bite which melted on his tongue.

"Only if you're very well behaved. Those things require me to muster up every fiber of my courage, and I swear the photographer works some sort of magic to make me look so good."

"You always look that good, Sweetheart. If you check the photo gallery in my phone, you look just as hot in every photo in there as you do in the calendar pictures. You look that good right now. And you looked that good at the hot sauce restaurant. And you looked that good with my cock in your ass an hour ago."

Once again, he had you preening before him as you fed him more cake. "If you insist, Roo."

"I insist. I look at you more than anyone else does. I've got to be some sort of expert." He took another bite from the fork. "This is incredible. Thank you for everything today." He propped his new calendar up against the backsplash, open to June. 

"Just make sure you put that away before my parents get here on Sunday," you said, tossing the fork into the sink and wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Right," he replied. You had him so excited about Father's Day and his birthday, he almost forgot they were flying in. "I'll put it out with all my workout gear tomorrow," he promised. "And you better start packing for La Jolla."

"I'll just throw some stuff in a bag before we leave on Thursday," you told him with a shrug.

"But I want you to make sure you pack all of your sexiest outfits. You always look good no matter what, but I love peeling that stuff off you."

You buried your face against his chest and whispered, "Okay." He could tell you were smiling just as Rose started crying.

"Midnight. On the dot," Bradley groaned, leading you backwards through the kitchen. "That kid is punctual."

You leaned up and kissed him, "I love you, birthday boy."

"I love you, too," he said over the sound of his daughter wailing to be fed. His past three birthdays were each more exciting than the last. He had no idea what else could be in store for him, but he wanted all of it.

---------------------------

On Sunday, you sat down very gingerly to enjoy brunch with Maria and Cam. You were still sore from Friday, and then last night, Bradley spanked you for being sassy. It wasn't entirely your fault you accidentally called him Daddy while you were FaceTiming your parents. He was using his commanding voice, going over the schedule for the upcoming week. You didn't think your parents even heard you say it, but you happily accepted your 'punishment' in the form of Bradley's hand on your ass and his cock in your pussy as soon as the call was over.

"Your parents are coming out today?" Cam asked, snapping your attention back to the last bit of your avocado toast and mimosa.

"Yeah. They're staying with Rose for a few nights while Bradley and I drive up to La Jolla. I won't be at work on Thursday."

"Bob and I are going away for Independence Day, too," Maria said dreamily. "He's taking me to Santa Barbara."

"Fuck you both," Cam grumbled, biting into some cinnamon toast. He chewed obnoxiously as he said, "I wish I had a hot aviator. I'll just be at home alone, watching Marvel shows and trying to feel something."

"I'll send you a postcard," you told him, giving him a loud kiss on the cheek.

"How's Rose?" Maria asked, ignoring Cam's comments completely. 

"Adorable," you sighed. "You'll get to see her when Bradley picks me up to head to the airport." 

No sooner did you mention your husband and daughter, and then they appeared. 

"Hey," Bradley greeted your friends, leaning down to kiss you with Rose in his arms. He was wearing his aviators low on his nose, and he looked so good.

"Hi," Cam mumbled, and you could tell how badly he wanted to call your husband Lieutenant Commander Mustache. Maria on the other hand popped out of her seat to get to the baby.

"She got big," she said, scooping her out of Bradley's arms. "Such a big girl now."

Bradley eyed you over his sunglasses, and his smirk reminded you of last night. "We need to leave soon. They land in less than an hour."

"It's my turn to pay anyway," you said, digging in your wallet for some cash before Bradley handed you his credit card.

"I really hate you at times," Cam murmured, and you had to stifle your laughter.

"I only have love in my heart for you."

He rolled his eyes, but both of you were stifling your laughter now as Maria continued to bounce around with Rose. Eventually you signed the slip and handed it back to Bradley along with his credit card. "I'll see you both at work tomorrow," you promised, picking up your bag as Bradley took Rose back from Maria.

When you walked out of the restaurant, you saw several heads turn in your direction as women stared. "Everyone is looking at the DILF," you whispered.

"Where?" Bradley asked in confusion, looking around with his brow furrowed. 

"I'm referring to you," you replied with a laugh as you walked out toward the red Bronco. He rolled his eyes but put a firm hand on your waist.

"Hang on. I want to buckle you in after I put her in her car seat."

So you waited until he was ready before climbing in the passenger seat, and then he pulled the seatbelt across your body before giving you a kiss. "Thanks, Roo."

He kissed your lips and the tip of your nose. "Let's get to the airport. Last time, their flight was early."

It was smooth sailing down the highway, and Rose was asleep by the time the Bronco was parked in the garage where she was conceived. Of course Bradley made a comment about it as he very carefully scooped her up again.

"Do you want to use the stroller?" you asked, but he immediately shook his head.

"I like carrying her like this."

"I know you do," you said, heart melting as you watched him kiss the top of her head. "I just thought I'd ask."

He carried her with both hands, and you tucked your arm around his waist as you headed inside and looked for their baggage carousel number. "This way," he rasped, and you followed him to the far end of the area. You snuggled in against him while you waited, and Bradley kissed the top of your head this time. "I cannot wait to get you in that fancy hotel room and have you all to myself."

You tilted your face up toward his and kissed the corner of his mustache. "Just so you know, my asshole still hurts."

"Fuck, Baby Girl," he grunted. "You always do this to me. You always say or do something to get me all stirred up right before your parents arrive."

You were about to tell him you had no idea what he was talking about, but you heard your mom calling your name. And when you turned, she was rushing toward you with your dad in her wake. "There they are! Oh, and look how sweet Rose looks!"

Bradley glared down at you, and you bit your lip and smiled up at him. "I'll make it up to you in La Jolla."

------------------------------

Happy birthday, DILF Roo. If you have an idea for something BG can do in La Jolla to "make it up to him", I would love to hear it. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 25

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[ashonheavenscloud]

5:34 pm || k. sunwoo

warnings: a bit of making out, tension tension tension | wc: ~600

a/n: co-written on a silly little call with mi amor @lixiesfreckless !! enjoy <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"You're staring again."

Sunwoo shrugs from across the island as you pause slicing limes for the refreshment you're making for tonight's party, giving you a sweet scrunch of his nose as if that’s a sufficient response.

“Is there something on your mind or…?” You resume your task, conveniently missing how his eyes linger on you for a second too long, watching you tilt your head, watching you catch your tongue between your teeth as you focus on not letting the knife slip on the lime skin.

Your best friend blows out a breath, folding his arms on the countertop and resting his chin on top of them. "You know, I could be helping."

"You are not getting anywhere near a knife."

Sunwoo sighs dramatically, spinning back onto his feet. “I’m good for things other than sitting and looking pretty, you know,” he says, rounding the peninsula and passing behind you.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like washing dishes,” he gestures to the sink, flicking on the tap and picking up a sponge.

“Wow, so the pretty boy has other uses,” you jab, and quickly catch the playful glint in his eye as he holds the extendable faucet in his hand.

“Call me that again,” he threatens, aiming the head at you with a devilish grin.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" You respond sweetly, finishing slicing the lime and tossing it into the half full pitcher. You put down the knife and cross your arms, facing him. "Go on. I don't know if I believe you. You're all talk."

Sunwoo cocks an eyebrow. "Seriously? That's what you think?” You shrug, and barely get half a second to nod before you’re splashed with a cold stream of water, dead in the center of your chest.

A gasp escapes your throat and he has the nerve to laugh, cockiness dripping from his tone.

“Still think I’m all talk?’

"I'm starting to think you talk too much." You bite back.

Sunwoo's grin only widens as he sets the faucet back in its place and takes a step towards you, then another. For some reason, the action makes your heart rate pick up, pounding in your ear and making your skin hot as he pauses right in front of you. Smile still intact, he leans in, baiting you. "Oh, do I?" His eyes flicker between your lips and your eyes, and the shameless action makes you want to wipe the smirk right off his face.

“Absolutely.”

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” He challenges, leaving the ball in your court as he fakes a contemplative expression, tapping his chin. “Then again, maybe you’re the one who’s all talk-”

Silenced immediately by your hands on the back of his neck, you roughly pull him in, crashing your lips into his plump ones as he stumbles into you, mildly caught off guard.

But you both have a point to prove, so he quickly steadies himself with a firm grip on your waist while you grab onto his shoulders to stay upright. Before you know it, he has your body pressed back onto the counter, breaths coming in heavy as his mouth pushes back against yours eagerly.

A particularly well-timed tug on your bottom lip pulls a muffled sound from the back of your throat that makes Sunwoo chuckle against your lips, breath hot on your skin as he leans back to whisper, "Guess this pretty boy is good for more than you thought, hmm?"

"Shut up." You whine, and the way he bats his eyes at you, hovering with his lips just inches from yours, baits you back to kissing him.

You’re not entirely sure who’s the winner in this particular game, but with Sunwoo’s hands sliding over your hips and his lips molding perfectly with yours, you can’t find a reason to care.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the boyz masterlist

navigation

[visionsofmagic]

watching them as they train. ⭒ mk1

—✦requsted by anon.∗ imagine watching liu kang, kenshi, bi han, kuai liang, and tomas working out. you can’t help but ogle them. their muscles straining visibly, they are panting, sweat is rolling off them, THEN feeling them up. how do the guys feel about this?

╰┈➤ tags: spicy, sfw, pet names, sweating, watching, flirting, tattoo, gn!reader, use of y/n, no specific use of gender, boyfriend dynamic, fluff, ‘s all I suppose. ✩ wc: 2.3k ✩ rose’s notes: offf, this one was so spicy to write and I like how I imagined this entirely while reading your request, lol, love ya & thanks for this hot request! hope you all will like, enjoy. [also, changed the aesthetic of requests post, hope this one is prettier. muah!]

✩ liu kang.

being the god of fire, protector of the earthrealm, and having a decent power in his system, he needs to train his muscles, physical strength, and power as well as he does with his mindset. watching him sitting down on the carpet, eyes closed, hands connected while being inside his mind to power it up as if he’s not the most powerful soul in the entire timeline is the thing you do as a habit now, so, it’s not surprising when you find yourself sitting on one of the benches on the training area as he trains alone – no one else, just you and him.

it’s different than watching his peaceful closed eyes, a little smirk on his face from time to time as he knows you’re there to take a sight of his meditation – because he gladly allows you to. it’s different even within the air – it’s too hot to handle and the wind doesn’t help at all because how he has no particular sleeve on his upper part, wearing just pants as he trains with his sharp movements.

muscles getting tighter, sweat running from his neck to his exposed chest, professionalism is as clear as the sun’s rays and you can’t stop thinking about how easily he will use his skillful hands on your body – he’s making you weak by only training and you know that he acknowledges his effects on you, making his training session sharper and more powerful than it is needed as he turns his back, arms move fast, making his back’s muscles go visible to your eyes.

mouth getting wet on its own, your eyes travel from his sweaty hair to his sharp jaw, arms with visible veins, white tattoos covering his arms and a part of his chest beautifully, sweat flowing from there until they reach his abdomen, making you gulp in excitement.

is it wrong to fantasize about a god? you can’t answer, and you don’t care about it either – well, at least, your instincts don’t care because without calculating its outcomes, your legs move on their own as you get up, slowly approaching him. with each step you can hear his deep breaths, and can see his sweats shine under the light of the sun.

he stops at his movements when he feels you near, chest rising up and down still. standing in front of him with warm breaths hitting his hot chest, you can’t help but touch his arms’ tattoos full of sweat – slowly enough to get a warning from his parted lips. “y/n –“

“yes, my lord?”

you can see his eyes narrowing, mind studying the situation and knowing that you will not stop, not after both of your hands happen to be on his chest, rubbing his muscles from time to time and earning another warning from him as he grips your wrists – fingers still playing with his arm muscles, getting wet, “you should stop, I need to train for one more hour, pretty.”

“train with me,” you say, putting a kiss on his exposed chest before turning over, knowing the god of fire, the man of determination, can’t resist your open invitation, and agreeing.

“you will be the death of me, my love,” he says, picking you up in bridal style as he goes to his room – to train with you of course, much hotter this time.

✩ kenshi.

to get back his sword from johnny, and be worthy of his clan once again, kenshi tries his best – so hard to accomplish his aims – he needs to be strong, he knows it, and the knowledge pushes him to train over and over again until he can beat everyone who crosses his way and avoiding him to reach his destination.

and there’s one more reason behind it – having you as his audience. his beloved lover who likes to watch him get a good view of his exposed body, half-naked, showing his muscles off even though he will deny it. he can have his orange training clothes to wear but in that way, he won’t be able to see your parted lips that you bite and lick occasionally, eyes shining as they travel on his body shamelessly, hands move rapidly because of not knowing where to put them because your mind is not working entirely when he winks at you whenever he changes the way he trains – legs, arms, back muscles – doesn’t matter as long as you get heat rushing on your body which he knows so well.

“liked what you see, love?” he will ask, smiling down at you when he takes a break, chest rising up and down as he stands on his foot, hovering over you, teasing because it’s so fun to play with your cute mind.

“u-huh,” you say, looking at his chest and waist covered with sweat rather than his eyes directed at you, “like it so much –“ you add, and to his surprise, you put your hands on his waist, pulling him closer to you as you sit on the bench still, and eyes turning up to find him, “are you doing it for me to like it?” you tease back as your hands move from his waist to his abdomen, feeling his six packs tighten under your fingertips. “cute.”

“not as cute as you, prettiest.”

then, he will make sure you put your hands on his body whenever he takes breaks until he is done with training and takes you into his room, admiring your body the way you do to his. after all, he is such a pleaser that he needs to return the favor.

✩ bi han.

for being the grandmaster of the lin kuei clan, the man who seeks great power, bi han trains a lot – he needs to, he has to.

he never gets exhausted by training with his potent stamina and determination to become the best – the strongest to bring great accomplishments to his clan. also, he never gets tired of having you beside him as he trains after he tells you to watch him closely to see what a true and good training session will look like – well, half truth half lie because it’s not the only reason why he keeps taking you into the area, having you sit down on the carpet, on your knees and watch him – it’s all because of you though, you were the first one who requested to do it and from the way you look at him, his body and mostly muscles with parted pretty lips, he can’t bring himself to train alone when he can your pretty face lighten up with desire of him as he does it.

knowing he does it on purpose, you sit down on the carpet calmly – as much as you can anyway, watching him having only his pants on, ice appearing on his hands until it reaches his elbows, the temperature getting colder but you don’t – it only gets warmer for you when your eyes travel on his torso, chest, shoulders, arms – full of muscles and sweat, getting tighter from time to time with the impact of his hard training. oh, you think, he truly deserves the title of grandmaster.

thighs clenching together, hands getting between your legs, eyes sparkling, and lips getting licked, you know bi han laughs menacingly inside his mind whenever he takes a look at your messy situation – he definitely does it on purpose, doesn’t he?

your question is answered when he cleans his sweat with a towel before sitting in front of you on his knees, hands positioned on his lap, raising an eyebrow he asks, “did you learn anything from my training, y/n?”

nodding, you challenge him by saying, “yeah, I learned how your muscles move so beautifully, sir.”

he chuckles deeply, and letting you do what you wanted to do before, taking you by the wrist, he puts your hand down on his shoulders, “now learn how they feel under your touch, doll. it’s what your hands carve after all.”

instead of saying anything, you use your hand movements as an answer – massaging his rigid muscles on the shoulders, moving from his chest from there until they find his abdomen, full of thick packs, showing his masculinity off so perfectly that you put a kiss on his exposed body, earning a low growl from the man.

“if you keep doing that, I will use your body as my training tool, princess.”

he sounds deep and hot – you’re being a brat. “then, do it.” and he does it in a way you can never imagine before experiencing it.

✩ kuai liang.

he doesn’t mind having your company when he finds alone time to train his abilities to make them reach the highest point; on the contrary, he finds it amusing how you even bring snacks with you as if his training session is a scene coming out of your favorite show – you admit it though, he’s your favorite show to watch because how it cannot be when he has sightworthy attractive and cute features, especially in the training area in which he has nothing on the half of his body – yes, you see it every day and night yet it’s far more different when it comes to seeing him training with his tools to strength himself up.

watching him jumping, crouching, using his knives with long ropes you happen to have on your wrist a night ago, your hand stop in mid-air, not being able to eat a snack because of how your mouth keeps getting wet – the hotness coming from him and hitting you on the face heavily isn’t related to his ability, no, it’s only coming thanks to being so damn attractive right now; all sweaty, breathing heavily and rapidly, movements perfect, gaze he gives to you breathtaking.

“what is it princess?” he will ask, a knowing smile on his face, taking a bottle of water to drink as he sits down beside you, radiating two different kinds of warmness to your body, “I am the one who trains and you seem to be the one with no steady breath.”

his teasing stops when you can’t help yourself and touch the scorpion tattoo on his thick and big arm, moving from there to his shoulder slowly. chuckling, you say as your hands travel on his wet chest and abdomen playfully, “who has no steady breath now handsome?”

“oh?” he holds your wrist, pulling you closer, hot breath hitting your neck when he puts a kiss on there, “when I am finished with the train, you even won’t be able to have a brain to remember how to breathe, pretty.”

✩ tomas.

“what now?” he will ask firstly, trying to find a few excuses to tell after you sit on the ground, smiling widely and telling him you want to watch him as he trains – because, ugh, he knows he will get all shy and missing a few steps, or doing his sessions incorrectly with the effects of having your piercing eyes on him, studying him, literally seeing every move and it makes him a bit nervous because being the cute little boyfriend, tomas wants to be as perfect as he can be in front of you – no one else’s, except his brothers.

his desire to impress you in every way, the situation as possible gives him a bit of sadness when he shows some weakness as he does exercises, you behind him, sitting and watching – oh, he sucks, isn’t he – he will think until the moment he realizes that you don’t watch him train – well, you do, but not with the way he excepts.

your eyes scanning his arm muscles, back, thighs, and hands as if he’s a piece of art with thick and sharp features he has – he can see how you bite your lip from time to time, smiling face is long gone, replaced by the expression of passion and tomas can’t decide which one makes him happier; to realize his not-so-perfect training isn’t understood by you or to witness your greedy gazes as you keep your eyes on him, clearly liking what you see.

being addicted to pleasing you, tomas smiles at himself and without hesitation, he takes his tight sleeveless top off of his body, showing his body underneath it – getting proud when you begin to lick your lips, thighs getting clenched with pure instincts.

even at his shiest moment, he teases you by standing between your legs, holding you by the chin, and making you look into his shining eyes with joy, “you’re quite an admirer, my love, aren’t you?” he asks, leaving you dumb for a moment before you come into your senses, smiling as your palms position on his exposed chest, playing.

it’s his turn to be dumb at the sudden action, “after what I am watching is the most beautiful sight in all realms, of course.” your hands are shameless as they flow on his top, admiring it as a true admirer.

“then let me put on a show only for you, my goddess.”

[izvmimi]

cw: slightly inebriated smut (only tanjiro is tipsy, really). tanjiro being his soft self. fem!reader. modern au, characters are a little older than college age. one (or more) silly jokes. pussy eating. penetrative sex.

Your boyfriend is far too social, you think to yourself as you tip your red plastic cup to your lips, drinking the last of the punch Tanjiro handed to you before returning to practically schmoozing the crowd, the remainder of your friends and old classmates gravitating around him like moths to a flame. It’s not his fault, you remind yourself again, taking another sip, the alcohol hitting the back of your throat with an airy gulp. He’s popular and social; he shines like the sun always, while you are somewhere closer to hot summer rain, sweet at times but intense and easily transitioned to thunder and stormy weather if suboptimal conditions arise. 

Similar to now. 

You can already feel your social battery slowly drain to the end of its lifetime, dreading what will ensure thereafter. Shinobu and Mitsuri had enthused you earlier in commenting on outfits and filling you in on gossip (Zenitsu having a restraining order against him ordered by two girls in the exact same neighborhood and Inosuke accidentally eating cat food Gyomei had left out for the neighborhood stray then asking for more), but now Obanai had quickly captured the latter girl’s attention again and they were off to God knows where in this party house, while Shinobu had decided to turn in early and disappeared without comment. You find yourself perched on a high stool while the remainder of the party continues to rage, loud music making your head pound with the bass. At some point, Tengen and Rengoku started doing competitive keg stands and you’re almost sure that if you see Tanjiro do this too you’re going to head upstairs and go to bed without another word. Instead, he’s playing a drinking game with Sabito and Giyuu, Sabito with a pingpong ball in hand and aiming a little too seriously at the arranged cups. Murata stands at the other end of the table frowning and you wonder when he’ll ever win a game.

The Demon Slayers are a rowdy bunch when they party. 

You reach the end of your drink and consider a second when you suddenly feel a hand clap onto your shoulder, squeezing hard enough that it startles you to the point of nearly falling off your seat.

You yelp, and Inosuke is grinning once you turn, and you think again about the cat food before you ask what he wants. 

“What do you mean what do I want- JANJIGO YOUR GIRLFRIEND WANTS TO LEAVE!”

Inosuke’s loud voice cuts clear through the music, enough that Kanao and Aoi whip around from their lazy positions cuddled on the couch to look in your direction.

“I did not say-” you hiss at him, but Tanjiro’s already quick to come over, smiling all the while. Inosuke grins and disappears, and you consider throwing something at him, your face is so warm and embarrassed, but you’re quickly distracted by Tanjiro’s gentle voice.

“Hey, are you tired?” he says breathily. He’s already easing you off the seat, taking the cup from your hand to discard it, and holding your other hand gently with the other. He’s pleasantly buzzed, soft red on his cheeks matching the tint of his dark eyes. He’s disarming you with how cute he is, and overly affectionate, his face nuzzling into your neck practically as he leans in. 

“Tanjiro~, there are people around…” you remind him as he starts to kiss your neck, but he whispers a soft ‘so?’ and you realize there’s not much you can do to deter him from being too handsy, and decide to pull him away before you end up embarrassed. He’s practically laughing as you pull him up the wooden steps of the rented home, and you move so quickly upstairs, you end up stumbling, only to be scooped up and pulled close to get kisses between giggles.

“What are you-”

“You’re clearly too drunk to walk,” he teases, although he’s slurring his speech far more than you are, eyes gently lidded as he looks at you. Warm around the ears, you decide to abandon that fight, and remind him where the room you’re sharing with Mitsuri is, thankful that you’re not sharing with Shinobu and your roommate is nowhere to be found.

“Don’t drop me,” you remind him. 

“Wouldn’t ever for the world.” 

…

Tanjiro’s coordination despite inebriation is a bit too good. Not content to just drop you off and see you in the morning (as you expected) by the time the door is closed, he’s at your neck and then your chin and then your lips, until you’re kissed every inch from your forehead to the center of your breasts, and he’s pulling off your jeans, lips still closed around your nipple. Hands heavier than usual under the influence of more than a few drinks run all over your body, and play with your pussy as he kisses you, spit-slicked fingers toying with your clit and your insides until they’re wet, then further wetted by the motions of his tongue. Sloppily he makes out with your pussy, head between your dangling knees until you’re moaning and squeezing your thighs shut around his head; something that doesn’t stop him, only spurs him further. 

“Sorry for leaving you alone down there,” he whispers against your pussy, then slurps further, and it’s almost laughable that he chooses now to apologize. You laugh and whisper that it’s fine but then he licks a long stripe through your cunt that makes your back arch as you let out a moan and your fingers tug shakily on strands of his hair. He says a playful ‘ow’ that has you whispering sorry but shuddering all the while.

“I’ll give you all the attention you need, okay?” he promises. You nod as he gets up and pulls his shirt over his head, your eyes practically swimming with desire as you watch him. He catches you enjoying the show and winks and you would die for the cringe if not for the act that he’s quickly turning you over onto your belly, taking a handful of your ass hostage before pressing his chest to your back. 

Slipping inside you, he groans a bit.

“The door’s locked, right?” you murmur, trying to distract from the stretch between your folds.

“Yeah,” he says through a grunt. You're not sure if he actually knows for sure but you do know, he'd never lie to you. You sigh, as he pushes in to the brim, and then lets you settle around him, letting his fingers pet your hair gently, and his other hand plant carefully into the mattress beside you. Still folded over the edge of the bed, he gently grips onto your scalp, and then he’s thrusting in, slow, then fast, then faster, then hard as your breaths deepen and you let out a moan. Skin slapping against skin, your voices melding together, Tanjiro is soon a little too exuberant, and a little too strong, soon lifting you off the mattress until your trembling arms are trying to find purchase on his slightly bent knees. Just seconds into this position, he has some mercy on you and it’s a normal stand, gentle, slow, loving - he kisses your neck as he moves you up and down, careful, until he slows, resting his arm against your tummy and breathing in your scent.

“I love you, you know that,” he says, breathily. You savor the twitch of his cock inside you as he eventually lays you down, additional, slower strokes accompanied with deep kisses. Your heart flutters as you keep going. 

You know that. The social butterfly will always come back to you, whether you’re a thorny rose or a bright daisy, your special fragrance always carrying him home.

[hamsterclaw]

Your ex-boyfriend's new song reels you back in.

Pairing: Namjoon x f! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Idol! Namjoon, smut, angst

Warnings: Sex, swearing, toxic relationship

Word count: 2k

‘The fuck you say about me?’ you demand.

The tall, buzzed blond man looks up, insolent, arrogant, so fucking sexy it hurts you.

He tucks his tongue in his cheek, flicks his hooded eyes over your rigid body.

‘If the shoe fits,’ he drawls, that familiar low voice smooth as silk.

‘You’re an asshole,’ you hiss, angry tears standing in your eyes. You blink and they stream down over your cheeks.

Kim Namjoon, your ex boyfriend, tilts his head. His gaze hasn’t left yours.

‘I miss making you cry,’ he says. His words come out slow, deliberate, every word like a bullet hitting its mark.

His aim’s always been sharp.

‘You never will again,’ you spit out. 

You turn on your heel and yank open his studio door. 

His hand lands on the door above your head, closes it again, caging you between him and the door. All six feet of him, packed with the muscle he’s put on since he started working out again.

He leans down, you can feel his breath on the back of your neck as he whispers, ‘How does it feel to be the one caught off-guard?’

You try to turn around and face him but his large hand lands on your shoulder, pinning you into place.

He’s always been bigger, but he’s never used his strength against you before.

You’re shaking with a rage and hurt so deep you can’t verbalise. You sob, a gulp of air, and try to turn again.

He holds firm, and you can’t move.

‘Stop,’ you say, throwing an elbow back, struggling against his grasp.

Namjoon releases you just enough so you can turn to face him.

There’s a hardness to his expression that you haven’t seen before. 

‘Now you know how it feels,’ he says. 

‘Let me go,’ you scream, right up into his face, so loud your ears ring.

He barely blinks.

‘You come into my studio to start shit? What did you expect?’ he hisses.

‘You touch me, I’ll go to the press,’ you say, shoving at his chest.

Namjoon laughs, short. ‘And say what? No one knows we ever fucked.’

His words hang between you.

The tears are still falling, but your composure is returning.

‘I know,’ you say, voice thick. ‘And you know.’

Your words make some of his anger drain away. You can see him visibly easing out of the rigid posture he was in, leaning back so he’s not looming over you.

‘We know,’ he muses. 

‘And now anyone who listens to that track will know,’ you say, looking at him steadily.

He runs a hand through his buzzed hair.

‘They’ll know you fucked me over,’ he says. ‘They’ll know my side.’

He’s not wrong. There are two sides to your tumultuous relationship, and he’s told his side in the way he does best. 

It’s unfortunate for you that he has the platform to reach millions of people. 

You’re standing a foot apart now, bodies still turned to each other.

‘I fucked you over,’ you muse. ‘I fucked you over.’

He’s staring at your mouth and you know exactly what he’s thinking.

For all his emotional intelligence and his intellect, he’s always been a simple man.

‘Come down so I can reach,’ you say.

He leans down and your hand comes up to slap him. He catches your wrist mid-air, grip so strong it’s like steel, and lowers his mouth onto yours.

His kiss is hard, bruising, his tongue delving into your open mouth in a rhythm that makes you shiver.

He tugs you up on tiptoe, and you bring your hands up to keep space between you. He ignores the way you’re pushing at his chest, takes the way you’re kissing him as consent.

You give up.

You melt into his frame, close, arm curling around his neck to hold on as he presses his hot mouth to your neck. His tongue flicks over your skin, his lips form a seal and he sucks, a sensation that has warmth pooling at your core.

He groans, low, his hands already sliding up under your top, cupping your breasts over your bra.

Instead of unhooking, he hooks his finger under the band of your bra and tugs, up, lowering his head to suckle at the tip of your breast. His tongue swirls, and heat pulses between your legs.

‘Take it off,’ he says, eyes hooded, pupils blown. 

You tug your top off, then your bra. You’re not self-conscious about how you look in front of him.

Namjoon’s shown you a million times how much he loves your body.

Sure enough, he’s pushing you back onto the couch, mouth all over your tits, his big hands splayed around your waist, gripping you tight.

You try not to moan but you can’t stop yourself. He knows exactly how to pleasure you, it’s a learned skill from the hundreds of times you’ve fucked.

He laves his tongue over your nipple, and you’re already craving the thick length of his cock inside you.

He’s watching you as he kisses a path down the bare skin of your torso. He gets to the button of your jeans, undoes it deftly and you lift your hips so he can tug them off.

Underneath, your panties are sticking to you. He splays a hand over the curve of your hip, places his hand on you and you close your eyes as he rolls the pad of his thumb over your clit, slow, teasing.

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, and he tugs it away, rough.

He’s still fully dressed, the lights all blazing above you, and the juxtaposition of how he’s fully in control and how he’s taking you apart under him adds an unwanted intrusion to the haze of pleasure.

Shame.

It’s more about the way you’ve treated him than the way he’s got you spread and almost naked under him.

It’s more about the things you’ve said to this man who you’re supposed to love than the moans of wanton pleasure you’re expressing now.

He’s the one with a finger in your cunt but you think over the years you’ve fucked him just as much.

The tears come again, and Namjoon notices. He’s seen you cry so many times but there’s still a thin thread of decency that makes him lean down and kiss your forehead.

‘If I stop we’ll only feel worse,’ he murmurs, certainty in his tone borne of experience.

‘You know I love how you fuck me,’ you say, softly, speaking like it’s a secret between you and him.

There’s a flash of regret in his eyes but he doesn’t dwell on it. Fucking won’t close the chasm between you but it’ll sure as hell make you both forget for a while.

He gets up, unbuttons, lets his loose jeans slip down and then he’s in his chair, thighs spread, hard dick in his hand.

There’s a smear of pre-cum on his grey tee that’s probably worth more than your car but Namjoon’s never given a fuck about his clothes.

He watches, intent, as you slip your panties down, kick them away. 

He cups your bare bottom as you straddle him, lets your hand cover his around his cock.

You curl your fingers around him, and he huffs out a breath.

More pre-cum slips between your fingers as you position the head of him where you need him.

Namjoon’s dimple flashes, brief, as his lips curve.

‘Take it slow, baby, you know how sore you get.’

There’s a taunt in his low voice but the hands still supporting your ass are gentle.

You take the tip of him inside you, and he clenches his jaw.

His body, underneath you, is tense with holding himself back.

Namjoon can be gentle but he’s not a patient man.

You lower yourself, slow, thighs quivering with effort. 

The slide of his cock is so damn satisfying, every time. 

Namjoon lifts his hips, a push, two, then he’s in all the way.

You both groan.

You rest your forehead against his, fighting to regulate your breathing.

He’s struggling too, his heart thumping against his chest.

‘Fuck, fuck,’ he mutters. ‘Why’s it so good every time?’

He catches your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, squeezes your tear streaked face.

‘I want to make it work,’ he vows. ‘Why can’t we make it work?’

He’s squeezing so hard you’re worried he’ll leave fingermarks on your cheeks.

You could give a trite response, a dozen snappy comebacks are in your mouth ready to be said, but instead you close your eyes.

Take in the feel of him inside you, his body around yours. His scent on your skin.

Every time could be the last time.

Then again you’ve been saying that since you met him.

You curl your arms around his broad shoulders, move your hips, pull his head between your breasts.

He comes willingly.

You lift your hips, up so he’s just barely inside, then drop them. The sounds of your joined bodies in the otherwise silent soundproofed studio are obscene and beautiful.

You keep up the rhythm, slowing when you’re close, when your peak’s within reach. 

Namjoon’s looking up at you. 

His dimples flash. 

‘Always did need me to finish you,’ he says. If there’s arrogance in his tone it’s been earned over all the times you’ve fucked.

You press your thumb into his cheek.

‘So do it.’

Namjoon grasps your hips, grinding you onto his pelvis. He fucks up into you, grunting with the effort. His skin gleams with the sweat he’s worked up.

‘Fuck,’ you gasp. 

Namjoon swears. 

‘Gripping me so tight, fuck!’

Namjoon pulls you down, plunges his tongue into your mouth as he fucks you.

You cry his name as you come, words passing from your mouth to his, and he closes his eyes.

His thrusts slow, erratic, as he pumps his release into you. 

You get up, legs wobbly from being fucked so hard and well, totter to the couch and press your face between the joins. You can’t look at him or you’ll cry again and you both hate that.

A moment later you feel the weight of him next to you.

His big palm lands on your ass along with the whole weight of his arm. 

He buries his face in your hair.

You don’t think there’s anything left to say.

***

You’re curled up in Namjoon’s pre-cum stained shirt, knees up and together on his cum-stained couch, watching him flick a lighter on and off.

Without turning he says, ‘Don’t give me that fucking screw face when you’ve got my t-shirt on and my come running down your leg.’

You try to readjust your resting screw face but he turns and catches you.

You have to laugh at how well he knows you.

He’s picked up your panties, twirling them around his finger.

‘You gonna go?’ he asks. He’s looking at you, so you do him the courtesy of meeting his gaze.

‘Yeah.’

He nods. ‘I had the codes changed on all the doors. Your fingerprint won’t work anymore.’

It’s your turn to nod. 

‘I moved,’ you feel the need to tell him.

‘I know,’ he says.

You’re not surprised to hear he looked for you.

It’s the hallmark of the many years of toxic codependency you shared. 

Your friends got married and had babies.

You and Namjoon went up in flames and rose from the ashes. The cycle went on. 

Fuck, cry, repeat.

You get up, start getting dressed.

You’ve got your hand on the door when you turn back to look at him a last time.

He’s already looking at you. 

‘You hungry?’ you ask.

It takes him less than a second to decide.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Motivation

(Part 2)

—

Time Written- 10:23 p.m.

I wrote this 3 times and gave up. Severely gave up

—

“Wakey Wakey, sweetheart.” His lightly exhausted tone nearly roused your eyes open.

A faint click of a bedside lamp invades the silence shortly before Jason shuffles out of bed, displaying a warm glow to your light sensitive vision.

A small groan falls from your mouth, your eyes shutting closed in irritation from the distraction of your comfort. His arms left their sanctuary around your waist, a kiss of warmth remaining along your tummy before he readjusted a soft, thin blanket over your tired body.

Jason was considerate enough to turn off his alarm nearly three minutes before it goes off, saving his special girl a few minutes of precious sleep. As the midsummer sun dies down behind fluffy clouds, golden rays of light reflecting off skyscraper glass into the dead of the night, Gotham’s wild crowds creep out from their crooked caverns to play.

“Hey mama. Sorry to ruin the fun, but I think my arm ran out of blood flow.”

“Do you need it?” Your faint, croaked rumble spews from your barely moving lips.

“I mean, I suppose I’ll need it to fight an’ aim guns at unlucky bastards. Guess that means you gotta lose the pillow.”

Another groan leaves your lips before reluctantly raising your head, setting his arm free from its prison. You spent a minute of quiet suffering before Jason’s fingers cupped your head, guiding you to raise it just enough to slip a fluffy pillow to settle your pretty brain on.

The A/C was on full blast, the blank noise lulling your tired minds to sleep around seven. While it was counterintuitive to be snuggling together in this hot summer heat, you wanted nothing more than to be in his company, comfortable in his safety.

Bare feet shuffling along hard foot floor shifts to heavy rubber soles as Jason gets dressed. Soft cotton and polyester drops to the ground, replaced with tactical fabrics and scrunching leather. A short sonnet of clicks and snaps follow as he adjusts his belt and holsters, getting everything comfortably situated on his person.

“You’re not angry with me, are ya?” He clicks his tongue, fighting off a smile at your lack of response.

“Earth to Goddess.” His calm voice invades your ears as the floor creaks, the dressed vigilante shuffling to his knees beside the bed, settling close to your face.

“Princess.” Jason lightly chimes, brushing your cheek with the back of his pointer finger.

He then proceeds his ever loving assault via planting various kisses along your face, ranging from your cheek up towards your forehead, back down to your nose.

“Babygirl.” He cooes against your sweet smelling hair.

“Do you have to go now?” Came your eventual, irritated whine.

He leans forward, mattress gently creaking as he pressed his lips just under your ear for a quick kiss. “Not yet. You got me for five more minutes.”

Jason settles his head on your collarbone, your nose slightly tickled from locks of soft, dark hair. His eyes are closed, but for once, they’re content with peacefulness. That, and the events that would come within the next month, changing their lives forever.

Jason’s smile widens as your fingers mindlessly trails random shapes along his open palm, your hands always lingering somewhere along his body.

“Y’know I’d give just about anything to get back in bed with you,” his armored chest rumbles with his lowly spoken words. “But, I’m a little big in this get up to be this close to you at the moment. Don’t wanna crush you.”

Those sudden words couldn’t help but make you smile, scoffing just a bit. Ever the doting, overly concerned, slightly overdramatized, loving man he is.

“I don’t know who’s bigger right now,” your exhaustion let you speak in ghostly whispers. “You, or me.”

“Well, you’re the pregnant one,” he says, fighting off a strong, snarky remark with an amused smirk. “So, you definitely take the win with that.”

The look you gave him the second your eyes snapped open made him chuckle, as if he willfully insulted you. The irony of it, considering he was around 6’4 and 250 pounds, a large percent being complete muscle mass while you carried a seven pound baby.

“Kidding, babe. Kidding,” he soothes, trailing a few fingers along your swollen tummy just over the blanket. “Just trying to joke off the nerves. Doesn’t help that it’s my first time…”

“It better be your first time,” you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah yeah, It is. Don’t worry.” Jason’s voice is soft, his cheeks turning a light shade of red at that, and he can’t help but smile as the two of them laugh quietly at her joke.

The weight of their child is a constant pressure on your body to create an incredible miracle. It’s certainly something new, he always wants to make sure his little mama is happy and healthy. Mostly happy.

He trails a finger down your stomach, pausing when he feels a faint thud near the round lower edge of his palm. For eight months teetering on the edge of nine, the baby was definitely getting active.

“Think your boy’s getting ready to fight those unlucky bastards with you.” You lightly chide with a small grin.

“Language, mama,” Jason retorts, flicking some wisps of hair away from your head. “Don’t want ‘em to hear those foul words. An’ I’m not in the market for sidekicks.”

You frown again, scoffing at his hypocrisy.

The surrealism was intense, affecting him from the center of his brain towards the tips of his hands and toes.

Your boy, his boy. His son.

“You two keep the bed warm for me.” Jason murmurs before pressing a few goodbye kisses along your cheek. “I’ll come back with breakfast when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, consciousness struggling to remain afloat. It’s a silly mental image; the reaction of the owners of an early bird, go-to diner frantically scrambling out of shock and awe when Red Hood himself enters their establishment.

He stands from the floor, lovingly glancing down at his beautiful, pregnant woman cradled in bed, nestled with his pillow, perfectly content.

“Be safe,” you whisper to him, watching him reach towards the lamp to shut it off. The warmth of the vanished lap changing his eyes from a strong emerald green back towards a crisp, steel-cut teal.

“I love you.”

Your voice always sweetened the deal, a perfect lullaby once it was his turn to sleep.

The perfect motivation for him to look forward to every morning.

“Love you too, mama.”

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"banter, baby!!" ft. the monster trio!

you know sometimes sexual tension turns into petty fights ft. luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader set-up: you knows and he knows and everyone on the fucking crew knows what is up between you two but instead of fucking it out (as you should), you both decide that it's banter time! warnings: petty insults, pettier them, pettiest you m.list

luffy:

- was luffy easygoing? yes. was he friends with almost everyone? yes. but was he also a dumbass who started to fight if he felt like it? also yes. - you're not sure how it started to be very honest, maybe you told him off and asked him to leave some food behind for the rest of the crew - that explained how the captain of the ship: strawhat luffy of the strawhat pirates, a man with an immense amount of bounty atop his head sat pouting in front of you with his arms crosses - that also explained why you also sat with your arm crossed, staring him dead in the eye - "luffy." you hiss, "stop being a baby and apologize." he looks appalled, "you stop being a baby and apologize." "you alMOST ATE ENOUGH FOOD FOR LIKE 8 PEOPLE FOR FUCKS SAKE?!" he looks solemn as he whispers, "a growing child has his needs" - what????? - you fold your arms tighter against yourself, causing your cleavage to be more prominent to his keen eyes, "you know somebody who looks at you wouldn't ever realize you're ace's brother." he pouts more, voice whiny now, "what does that mean?" "i mean he's so thoughtful and charming and a sensible human being and look at you, sharp as a butter knife!!" "YOU TAKE THAT BACK. I LIKE BUTTER!" - WHAT???? - "you're impossible." "uh-huh, uh-huh and i'm about to become more impossible now." "wha-" - dragged you to his room and showed you how impossible he can be

zoro:

- yeah, roronoa zoro was your sparring partner. yeah, one can say that you were a little bit mesmerized everytime his muscles rippled against his tight t-shirt. yeah, maybe you were drooling just a little - that shouldn't distract everyone from the fact that he was a smug, cocky asshole when sparring (its like you've been training since the age of eleven, stfu zoro) - "tch, yn. you can do better than that you know?" you hold back obscenities, narrowing your eyes, "shut up, how about that?" - he's sheathing the swords, standing against the deck with his arms crossed over his broad chest. he doesn't seem to have broken a sweat. a light hand runs through his cropped hair and he gives you a lazy smile, "you're quite weak, you know?" - he laughs a bit at your fuming state, finding some amusement in the way your cheeks burned an you held onto the dagger more tightly "you're pissing me off." your experienced hands throw the dagger at him, aiming for his head "am i?" his smile broadens as he catches the blade in his hands. he twists the blade on his palm, eying you leisurely, "maybe you should redirect all that anger into trying to land a blow on me, how about that?" - "you know, zoro." you plaster on a fake smile, "i have often heard a rumor about you" "what kind of rumor?" "ahh, just that you have a fourth sword." your smile drops, "just didn't know that sword was stuck up your ass." - his face fell for a second and then a smug smile crept across his face. his calloused hands found your wrist, leading you upto his room "how about we fact-check your rumor?" - uh lets say he does have a fourth sword. thats all.

sanji:

- honest to god, you had come here to help him prepare food. was he supposed to just be your cooking partner? yes. but were your eyes running over his flexing forearms as he hiked his shirt sleeves and cut something up? also yes. was it getting too hot here and you knew it wasn't even because of the food? also yes. - you were stirring the pot as sanji hovered behind you, his hand reached into the cabinet above you and momentarily, you were stuck between the stove and his body - and it's making you feel things - "sanji" you spoke abruptly, "get away from me, please." "huh?" he backed away, an apology ready on the tip of his tongue - maybe the blush on your cheek was evident because his expression changed from apologetic to smug. - he inched in closer, "oh, im sorry, my love" "stop it, stop getting so close to me" "oh, why? something wrong?" he drawled out "no, you just smell like fish right now. that's why, move it." - now why would you say that - he just chuckles, "you know, i am a cook, so i would smell like food. why? wanna devour me?" "no." you mumble nervously, "if anything, i am allergic to fish." - why would you say that again??? - "trust me, darling, you should give it a shot. maybe you'd like the taste?" he winked at the last statement - that night, you did give it a shot - maybe the cook is as delicious as the food he makes

a/n: listen to me, i just know sanji's banter will be straight-up flirting, i dont make the rules. hope you enjoyed lmao m.list