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#I love a good accent wall
neon-danger · 15 days
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I keep EVERYTHING and it's probably why I keep running out of space to keep backups as my screenshots folder is about as big as mods folder and if not for me constantly taking out old saves to ALSO backup it would also be as massive. I really need to get like a massive drive that won't kill itself on me and put a million backups in there. I have no shame, I share shit with friends too and I have screenshots going back to my old crappy laptop in 2018. God I want bands so bad in Sims 4. I have modded drums but they are not the same, and they also broke pianos for me at the same time. I use Clubs as makeshift bands but it's not THE SAME and I've heard everyone sing and play guitar so many times I can just tell who is doing it despite all Sims having the same singing voice for some reason. I just KNOW who is more likely to just start singing or pull out a guitar and start doing it and who is more often distracted by flirting.
I'm inconsistent with building as it takes me forever to make a layout and it makes me doubt myself endlessly and I hate making roofs. But I like furnishing and doing layouts, I just try so hard to avoid making boxes that I give myself pain trying to make it 'interesting'. Which usually just means L shapes, how exciting and different. I think I've played too much Minecraft as I do the exact same fucking thing there.
I also can't build anything but houses. Every time I built anything else it failed spectacularly. I keep my awful restaurant because Alex works there and it's fun to sexually harass him at work and restaurants seem to work better without mods meant to fix them for some fucking reason for me, but I built a park once and it was so awful I deleted it from existence. WHY did that mod make restaurants break for me, chefs never showed up but waiters still did, so DUMB. It's supposed to make them work better, but it works better without it.
I feel like some of my friends would be chill with me sharing my save file screenshots but like,,, I don’t take that many
I use the in game camera so my sims can have memories and that’s usually what’s clogging my screenshot folder tbh
Anytime I use screenshots it’s more for story telling
I use a lot of Pinterest floor plans that I’ll usually modify to fit my needs. I have a comfort build that’s basically just My Happy Place with an entirely made up floor plan based on a maladaptive daydream universe I still can’t completely let go of. When life is really bad I put myself sim in with my para parents and just,,,, heal my inert child
Tbh even looking at architecture for inspiration can help in creating your own floor plans as well
A lot of ea floor plans are complete shit so I’ll go in and fix it without editing the ea shell
My only dine out issues are the constant resetting of my sims and the unreasonably long wait times so I haven’t ever really used any dine out fixes. I don’t normally play as a restaurant owner tho so maybe that’s why.
I’ve been really into midcentury architecture lately so I built a 1970s diner the other day but yeah it was not cute
Anyone who can build a restaurant is talented fr
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parttimesarah · 8 months
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A young Michael Sheen as James the Mugger on S2e6 of Sean Hughes’ program, Sean’s Show (first broadcast on 22 December, 1993)…
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despairforme · 1 month
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Who is gonna make him laugh like this?
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dashofghost · 2 months
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SUNDAY
or, Simon Riley can't stop praising you. minors dni.
➻ Simon Riley, whose favorite sex position is secretly missionary because then he can see your pretty face. His hands are all over you, and he's got a pretty blush on his face.
"God, I fucking love these," he sighs, cupping your breasts, fighting the urge to bury his face between them. Sometimes he does, but he instead sucks a nipple into his mouth.
➻ Simon props your hips up on a pillow before he slowly opens your legs with a drawn out groan. He's seen you naked a thousand times before, but he still blushes as he tilts your hips up.
"Pretty fucking pussy," he groans, head lolling back. He drags two fingers up your slit, licking your slick off his fingers. His moans join yours as he rubs your clit, fingers rubbing your walls in all the right ways. "Fuck, perfect girl, makin' a mess all over my hand," he gasps out, his left hand cupping one of your breasts. Your thighs squeeze around his hand and he wishes they were around his head.
➻ Simon's accent gets thick when he's lost in pleasure, when you're moaning in his ear and leaving red lines down his back. You're a hazy mess, a blush from all the consistent praise staining your cheeks. Simon's eyes roll back as your thighs close around his hips.
"Fuckin' missed you sweetheart, love you, love your fucking perfect pussy, she's squeezing me so tight, shit-" You bite down on his shoulder, your thighs starting to shake around his waist. He rubs your clit faster, downing in the slick sounds emanating from where your bodies connect. "Cum, god, fucking cum for me, angel," he's so close, he can taste it on the back of his tongue, "pretty girl, good girl, you're so pretty when you cum-"
➻ His own orgasm cuts him off, and he pulls you close, your arms looped around his neck. He trembles through the aftershocks until his arms give out and he collapses on top of you.
It's his favorite way to start a Sunday morning, after all.
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empresskylo · 1 year
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call of duty ೃ⁀➷ NSFW headcanons
↳ includes: ghost, price, soap, and alejandro.
⋆。°✩ CONTENT WARNINGS | afab!reader, rough sex
cod masterlist | main masterlist
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𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓
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Ghost
♡ ghost has a size kink for sure. loves being bigger/taller than you. loves towering over you. loves covering your whole body when he fucks you.
♡ he’s a growler (-: i mean, his voice is just really deep and that in combo with his accent causes him to make growling-esque noises in bed.
♡ but he was really quite quiet when you first fucked. he was used to having to be silent when he jerked off because teammates were always around somewhere. and so he didn’t even realize how quiet he was being until you said something. he was even a bit shy at first but once you showed him how much his sounds got you off, he was glad to oblige and let loose.
♡ he doesn’t like to “choke” you, but he likes to rest his hand around your neck in a firm hold allowing him to hold you steady so he can fuck you deeper.
♡ he’s rather simple. he likes a few basic positions. it gets the job done. he doesn't see the need for any wild or crazy positions when fucking you missionary, doggy style, or against a wall gets both of you off. he will do new stuff with you if you ask tho.
♡ really likes to praise you. he’s got a praise kink but only for being the praiser lol. he loves to tell you how good you feel, how pretty you look, how well you’re taking him. especially when you react to his words, fuck, he loves knowing he can do that to you.
♡ however, when you praise HIM, he gets all flustered and legit fucking blushes! my guy isn’t used to soft compliments, only ones about his combat skills. so when you say sweet things to him like how good he feels, how hot he looks, how turned on he makes you, how perfect he feels inside you, how badly you want him… he blushes. every. time.
♡ professional pussy eater. he very much enjoys going down on you, usually touching himself simultaneously. he’ll yank you to the end of the bed and wrap his arms around your thighs to hold you down. he likes when you ride his face too. he’s been known to get you off like that and make the two of you late. he moans a lot too when you ride his face. loves when you use him to get off and he can't help but moan at that.
♡ he has fucked you with the handle of his knife before and then made you lick it clean.
♡ gets a perverted sense of gratification when he sees you limping after fucking you senseless.
♡ has a breeding kink. he accidentally let it slip one day when he was fucking you, just about to come, when he moaned out in strained breaths “i need. to fucking. breed you.” (my brain: *414 error*) it doesn’t necessarily mean he wants kids, but he just loves the idea of getting you pregnant/coming inside you/breeding you.
♡ definitely a dom. but can be a sub when need be. he wasn’t sure about being submissive at first, but he’s learned to love it. he likes when you boss him around and tell him what you want. even likes it when you edge him and don’t let him finish, dragging it out painfully. but that’s only occasionally, he usually likes to be the one in control.
♡ comes the hardest when you tell him you love him as you're orgasming. he's a romantic at heart.
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Price
♡ daddy kink.. i mean… com’on! he gets flustered as fuck when you call him that in public. usually, you’ll say it quietly or whisper it to him. it’s a rare sight to see Price so flustered. and he definitely punishes you when you get home. (that’s if you even make it home. as long as no one can see, he’ll fuck you anywhere)
♡ wants a video of you for when he’s away. you were shy at first so he just recorded your lower half while he was fucking you, the only thing visible was where your bodies were connecting. but he could hear all your moans in the video and that was plenty for him. he’s watched the video countless times.
♡ keeps a naughty polaroid of you in his wallet
♡ reallyyy likes to go down on you. he would spend the rest of his life between your thighs if he could.
♡ loves to tease you and make you beg. he’ll have you on your knees, begging him to fuck you. and of course that gives the cheeky bastard an aura of arrogance, but it’s hot on him so its ok.
♡ he specifically likes to tease you while you’re training together. watching the way you get flustered and try to ignore his innuendos and subtle hand movements on the more intimate parts of your body. then, when he has you alone, he’ll make it seem like you were the one causing all the distractions. he’ll stay fully clothed and strip you down, fingering you while you stifle your moans. “this why you were distracted today, love? thinkin’ bout my fingers inside of you?” (when, in fact, you were trying to train and he was the one being all cheeky)
♡ over the clothes... he is fond of letting you ride his thigh, both of you fully clothed (that, or you're in underwear and he's fully clothed). sometimes he'll fuck you with everything on, dry humping you so aggressively that you come harder than you ever have. my guy is good at what he does.
♡ quite intense and intimidating when having sex. he's demanding in a way that makes you nervous and embarrassed. always making you say things that make your face heat. "is this want you want, pretty girl? gonna have to say it. unless you want me to stop?" "tell me what you want, love. use your words." "you want me? where? gotta spell it out for me."
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Soap
♡ doesn’t love the fact that you might get off to porn when he's not around, so he sends you audios of him jerking off, whining and moaning loudly for you. he gets so turned on when you tell him you got off to his video.
♡ likes to switch between being dominant and submissive. he’ll fuck you hard and fast, make you beg, tell you what to do, and edge you until you’re a crying mess. but he also likes it when you take control, riding him and stopping just as he’s about to finish, making him whine and whimper as you suck his dick, not letting him touch you as you tease him mercilessly, likes when you wrap your hand around his neck as you ride him.
♡ likes when you scratch him up. he wears all the marks you give him proudly and secretly likes being teased by the guys about it. he'll even tell you to be rougher on him. "bite down, love, I can take it."
♡ loves blowjobs. and loves finishing on your face with your tongue out. he finds it so hot when you lick your lips, his cum dripping down your chin.
♡ likes to be slow and gentle with you, dragging it out. he wants to take his time with you. and he'll do whatever you say or want. he's constantly making sure you're doing good or you like what he's doing. Sometimes you end up getting a bit frustrated, "yes, johnny, that feels fucking fantastic, now shut up and fuck me!" "yes, ma'am!"
♡ aftercare involves cleaning you up. taking a shower together. lame jokes. braiding your hair. giving you his sweatshirt to wear. and spooning you.
♡ almost came in his pants the first time he saw you in sexy lingerie that you bought just for his viewing pleasure.
♡ has a slight oral fixation and likes to keep his mouth busy the entire time. he's always kissing or nipping somewhere on you. he loves kissing your neck, jaw, chest, just anywhere really. he often groans into the kisses, making you swallow them.
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Alejandro
♡ "if you're a good girl and don't come until i tell you, i'll make you come over and over again"
♡ for some reason, he likes to leave hickeys on your inner thighs, teasing you mercilessly as he kisses you everywhere below your hips except where you need him most.
♡ he lives for teasing. he wants you a withering mess before he even considers giving you what you need. will have you crying because of how bad you want him. those are his favorite tears from you.
♡ he will overstimulate the fuck outta you too. you come at least 3 times every time you fuck. and he'll threaten to keep going, your core throbbing in painful overstimulation, unless you do exactly as he says.
♡ leaves bruises and scratch marks all over you. but he also expects the same in return. both of you look like you got into a gnarly brawl every time you fuck. "jesus christ, were you two fucking in there or wrestling a wild bear?"
♡ he is amazing at aftercare, a big switch up from the dominant, rough sex. he'll clean you up while muttering little praises. he'll carry you to the bathroom, sometimes taking a warm bath with you and washing your hair. he'll get you situated into clean comfy clothes and curl you up into him in bed. whatever you need, he'll do.
♡ likes the thrill of getting caught. he doesn't actually want to get caught, but it's the rush of it all. he's down to fuck anywhere. he's sneaky too and can be really subtle about touching you under the table, or in a dark corner of the bar, or on the roof while you're on watch duty. but he definitely prefers when you can both let loose and be loud.
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uglypastels · 8 months
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the Special | Sanji x reader
a/n - my first One Piece fic. absolutely terrifying but definitely a needed change of scenario to get out of my writing block. please be kind; I'm taking all my inspo from the live-action as that is what I am currently the most familiar with. but, well, we just have to see how it goes. bon appetite
Shoutout to my dear @mydearzero for encouraging my newfound obsession with this show and this character, as well as generally encouraging me to write. this is all your fault. And to everyone else who had been expecting me to finally post one of the other million fics I had promised... I'm sorry
And kind reminder that reblogs is what makes tumblr work. Please, if you enjoyed the story, reblog
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word count: 9.9k
warning: 18+ only. MDNI. smut. piv sex. oral sex (f!receiving). unprotected sex [wrap up your eggplants yall]. semi-public sex. several FDA regulation code breaks, probably. afab reader. swearing. little bit of angst. shitty and fat-shaming [oc!]boyfriend/date. fist fight. alcohol consumption.
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“Look at your waiter's face. He knows. It's another reason to be polite to your waiter; he could save your life with a raised eyebrow or a sigh.”
― Anthony Bourdain, 
The first thing you saw was the red, bright sign spelling out the restaurant's name.
Baratie. You had no clue what it meant but could only hope that “the best restaurant in the East Blue” was somewhere down the list of its definitions, especially after the months that they had kept you on the waiting list and the tumultuous trip that it took to sail there. Next, as your ship approached, you saw the… fish head. The sight of the sculpture at the front of the ship structure buried some worry in the pit of your stomach, but surely, if so many people had given it such fond reviews, the exterior was not to speak for what awaited you inside. 
‘Believe me, baby, you’ll love it here.’
‘I really hope so,’ you smiled as you got off your boat. Your legs shook at the knee as you stepped onto the sturdy dock planks. Days at sea, which had never been your friend, had clearly done more damage than you expected. You would have been on the floor if it wasn’t for the pair of arms holding on to you.
‘Thanks, Chosi,’ you said towards your boyfriend as he helped you steadily get back onto your feet. 
‘Can’t have you faceplant the second we get here,’ he brushed some invisible dust off your shoulder, and with his arm entwined with yours, he led you to the entrance of the establishment. You grabbed at the skirt of your dress to keep it down as the wind blew by.
As you walked, you looked at all the other ships harboured on the… was this an island? Was the entirety just one large ship? Was it anchored to something then, or was it drifting around the seas constantly? You couldn’t quite comprehend the logistics of it all. But you could tell that humans and other creatures of all walks of life–royalty, commoners, marines, pirates—were unbothered by each other's presence and enjoying the outing. Once inside, the shushed sound of the waves was exchanged for a whisper of swing music, as well as the chatter of the restaurant’s patrons and the clinking of their cutlery on plates. The walls were lined in crimson wallpaper as well as painted depictions of sea battles, accented in gold and bronze details matching the furniture placed spaciously around the room and the two stories above it that lead the eye to a beautiful aquamarine ceiling that gave the illusion as if one was looking up at the bright sky from underwater. 
The maitre’d, a Fishman, stood to attention at your entrance. 
‘Good afternoon, how may I help you?’ he asked kindly. 
‘We have a reservation. Name is Chosi,’ Chosi stated with his head held high. Despite you doubting that anyone knew his name in these parts of the world, he never ceased to pronounce it with a level of expectation to it. It was commendable, as well as disappointing, when nothing happened afterwards. The maitre’d simply nodded and glanced down at his long list of names, searching for the one he had just heard, ready to cross it off.
 ‘Ah, yes, right here. Please, do follow me to your table.’ And so, you did just that, walking down the grand staircase onto the restaurant's main floor, where you seated at one of the smaller tables, perfect for a romantic dinner for two. ‘Your waiter will be right with you.’ The Fishman bid you farewell just like that and returned to his position at the door. 
‘So?’ Chosi looked at you with a raised brow as you looked around.
‘It is quite stunning.’ You must admit that you did not expect this kind of splendour when looking at the carved fish that gaped at you outside. Something about that just did not exude the same essence as the timeless and classy beauty of the interior. You barely even felt the shake of the waves beneath you. 
Maybe your response wasn’t sufficient, for Chosi had opened his mouth to respond, something in the angles of his face announcing displeasure, but he was interrupted by a new presence at your table. You looked up at the tall figure towering over you. 
‘Welcome,’ the man spoke, his accent clearly indicating his origin if only you had been aware of where that was. Simultaneously, he put down a plate of bread rolls, perfectly and meticulously positioned atop it. ‘...to Baratie. My name is Sanji; I will be your waiter this afternoon.’
‘Took you long enough.’ Chosi mumbled under his breath, giving you an immense urge to kick him underneath the table, but you knew better than to do that, especially when he did not seem to be ready to stop any time soon. ‘Trying to convince my girl this place is worth visiting, heh.’ You could feel your cheeks burning up in embarrassment. Nevertheless, the waiter—Sanji, he said was his name—did not seem to give the comment much thought as he looked down at you with a curve to his thin-lined lips.
‘My apologies, madame; I hope my service will not give you the false impression of this establishment being worth any of your precious time.’ The smoothness of his voice almost concealed the true meaning behind his speech, leaving you, as well as your date, speechless. However, you felt your speaking ability to be taken away by more than just his words as you spared a second to take your waiter in properly. You just could not help but notice how his suit wrapped around his arms, and although one was covered by his blonde hair, his eyes had a glint of something that excited you despite not even knowing the root of that excitement. 
Like nothing had happened, Sanji continued, ‘Would you care to see the menu? Hear the specials?’ That is when you noticed the menu cards he was holding in his hand. And he must have been ready to list the special items, but Chosi was a step ahead. 
‘Actually, I think we are ready to order.’ That was the first you had heard of it, but you stayed put as he continued. After all, Chosi had eaten here before. He knew what was good, and you could trust his judgement. 
‘Prime rib, medium rare,’ as your boyfriend spoke, you kept your eye on the waiter, noticing the appearance of the smallest of flinches in his face at the sound of the dish, but never faltering his picture-perfect appearance, ‘and my lady will have the salad.’
Another twitch, right below his visible eyes, followed, but Sanji’s professional facade stayed on as he inquired: ‘We offer quite a variety of salads; which would madame prefer?’ And with that, he turned to you, that smile plastered on like a sticker, but he had trouble keeping it on as the answer to his question did not come from your mouth.
‘Whichever is the best, of course.’ Chosi rolled his eyes, and you wished you could do so as well. The waiter glanced between you and him, turning back to you momentarily. Long enough for you to give him a reassuring smile. It would be in everyone’s best interest if he just moved on from the matter. 
‘Drinks, then,’ Sanji again spoke with an unphased essence about him, as if nothing from the past few minutes had ever occurred, or at least tried to emulate this. ‘Madam, anything I can get you?’ The way he emphasised that word didn’t require any pointed glares. 
‘Uhm,’ you hesitated as he kept his full attention on you, completely ignoring the man sitting opposite you at the table, making Chosi stare at you just as, if not more, intensely, for all the opposite reasons. Out of panic, you just blurted out the most straightforward order. ‘Just water, thank you.’ It being the first words you said in the waiter's presence, they came out soft. Nothing like your regular voice, which startled you slightly. 
‘Still, sparkling or mineral?’ Sanji pursued. 
‘Still please,’ you smiled shyly, unsure where that actual shyness derived from. 
‘Ice? Cubed or crushed?’ He fired the questions at a rapid pace.
‘A bit of ice is fine. Thank you,’ you repeated yourself, looking down at the table and letting the waiter move on to the rest of the order. He didn’t say anything else but looked at Chosi with anticipation. 
‘I’ll have your finest brew.’
‘Coming up,’ his voice had a sudden coldness to it as he walked away, back to the kitchen, leaving the table to a thick silence. 
‘I could have ordered for myself, you know,’ you said, with that same soft tone you had spoken with earlier, although this felt much more familiar seeing who you talked to. 
 ‘And have you stuff yourself with some useless carbs? C’mon, you know I’m just looking out for you, here.’ 
‘I know.’ You straightened out a fork in front of you, suddenly feeling uneasy at how far away from the plate it was positioned compared to the knife on the opposite side. You were straightening out a crease in the tablecloth when Sanji returned with a silver tray in one hand. He placed the pint glass full of golden brew in front of Chosi before turning your way and setting a glass beside your plate. With a pair of tongs, one by one, he let ice cubes fall to the bottom of it, the clinking against the glass almost deafening. Then, he followed up with another pair of tongs and reached for a little tray but stopped himself to ask you: ‘Care for a slice of lemon, madame?’
‘Oh, uhm, sure,’ you shrugged, unable to look away. This process of pouring a glass of water felt rather extensive, but you could not deny the fact you were enjoying it all. As he grabbed the large pitcher to pour the water, you were unsure how he had carried all of these items with one hand and did so seemingly effortlessly.
‘There we go,’ he smiled, ‘your food will be with you shortly, but do let me know if you require anything else.’ And just like that, he was gone again, but not without leaving you feeling that he had meant his parting words especially for you and that that sentiment had undoubtedly not escaped your date.
‘I don’t like the look of that guy.’ Chosi glared at you as he took a sip from his pint, slurping up the top layer of foam with it. 
‘I think he’s quite sweet.’ You straightened out the fork again and reached for a bread roll to tear it apart piece by piece. 
‘Of course you would,’ he rolled his eyes, which made you look up from your little snack.
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ You put the bread roll down as the pit in your stomach hollowed out your appetite. Right, making space for that damn salad.
‘Nothing.’ Chosi shrugged, ‘Just that it's typical that somehow I’m the only one to notice when some guy is trying to cop a feel.’
‘He was doing no such thing.’ You had to bite your tongue not to raise your voice as his insinuation, despite being on the waiter's actions, seemed to be brutally judging yourself. ‘The poor guy is just doing his job. I’m not bothered by it, and neither should you be.’ Usually, you would attach some sweet nickname at the end of that sentence, but this was one too many times you had said a variant of the confirmation, and you were growing tired of just the thought of it.
Somewhere in the distance, a table erupted into a shouting match that had to be broken up by a handful of waiters. While usually, you turned away from such brutalities, never having been fond of violence and not particularly having a necessity in seeing people getting their teeth punched out minutes before eating a meal, this time you stretched your neck out to glance across the room, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of the white-blonde hair among the rousing heads. Someone had pulled a pistol, but the weapon was kicked out of the man's grip before they could shoot or even alarm people enough to hide beneath their tables. Just like that, the restaurant resumed its normal state of pleasantries, and you got back to your abysmal date and hoped it was still worth saving… or that saving was still even an option to begin with. 
‘From what you had told me about the place, Chi, it is much grander than I had expected.’ You smiled, and he nodded to your affirmations.
‘Well, I didn’t want to raise the expectations too high, but you know I don’t do anything but the best for you, sweet cheeks.’
‘Of course—’ you were interrupted by the footsteps nearing your table, and the weight nearly lifted off your shoulders at the sight of Sanji carrying too large plates. 
‘Hello there,’ he grinned slyly, ‘hope I don’t interrupt anythin’.’ 
‘Not at all,’ You moved your glass aside to make space for your dish, but Sanji put Chosi’s plate down first, announcing the food.
‘Prime rib, medium rare, for the gentleman.’ Like everything else, he precisely placed it so the gold details on the plate faced the diner exactly right. The roast glistened in the restaurant's dim light, and the smell hit you right at the nerves that reminded you of your hunger. But that was for the gentleman, and the gentleman had ordered for you the—
‘And for the madame,’ Sanji put a plate in front of you, ‘what I like to call the Sanji Special.’
You looked down at your plate of food with a stunned expression and then looked back up. Just in time, you caught the slight wink that your waiter had sent you before stepping back to then, with a nod, say, ‘Bon appetite.’ 
He got to take about three steps and had just turned his back towards your table when Chosi called out to him, clearing his throat. ‘Ehem, excuse me, Sonny.’ 
‘Is there a problem?’ Sanji returned with his hands behind his back, but you didn’t need to see his fists to know he was clenching them. It was all visible in the strain of his upper arms and jaw as he restrained himself to keep up a polite smile. 
‘I am pretty sure we had ordered a salad?’ Chosi tried to play it off with a casual laugh, but it turned out to be anything but. Sanji leaned forward to grab the plate, but then your boyfriend exclaimed, ‘No, not for me; for her.’ before the waiter got his hand on his prime rib.
With a satisfied smile, Sanji glanced at your plate and stated: ‘That is a salad.’
Not that you did not appreciate what was in front of you, but if it was a salad, it was the loosest interpretation of the definition possible. You had to keep your laugh in as he explained that the dish was a “twist on kensui salad with steamed components, egg, and pork” or, in your simpler terms… the most delicious-looking pot of ramen you had ever encountered in your life, but no, definitely not a salad in the traditional sense. You smiled at the food, not daring to look up at Sanji while your boyfriend’s head seemed to be boiling alive, but the waiter was a step ahead of you. 
‘Ah, almost forgot, for the lady,’ almost out of nowhere, he made a pair of chopsticks appear for you. 
‘She will not be eating that,’ Chosi grunted. 
‘I think that is for her to decide,’ Sanji didn’t even bother to look at him, keeping his sweet smile on you, which, in turn, rushed a hot flush over your cheeks. 
‘Chosi, don’t be like that; this looks delicious.’ You spoke, hoping he would calm down and let you finally sink your teeth into this gorgeous meal. After a tense second, Chosi finally huffed out and sank back down in his chair, making you realise he had been on the verge of getting up for whatever reason. Either way, his intentions could not have been good. In the meantime, Sanji excused himself once more to finally leave you to eat. 
You had perhaps taken half a bite when Chosi, his food untouched, spoke up again. ‘Why do you always do this?’
‘Do what?’ your throat tightened around the pork you had just swallowed.
‘Embarrass me like that?’ He sighed, a vein in his forehead looking more prominent than ever.
‘I didn’t—’
‘Cut the shit, you know what you’re doing.’ Chosi slammed his fist on the table, startling you and the few people sitting at the nearest tables to you.
‘Please, can we not do this now,’ you kept your head down, ignoring all the pairs of eyes that must have started catching on to what was happening. Chosi had turned red from anger by that point. 
‘What, am I being too much for you? Imagine what it’s like going out with a slut—’
‘Chosi!’ you snapped, immediately covering your face with your hand as if you had not meant to shout and grab the attention of even more people. 
Deep breath in. 
Out. 
‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ You hissed at the man across the table from you. 
‘With me? You’re the one that has been eyefucking the waiter this whole time, and now you disrespected me like that in front of him? Do I mean so little to you?’
‘I did no such thing.’ You rolled your eyes, catching glimpses of the room you were in. The people that sat around, the employees. Of course, Sanji stood only a few tables away, taking an order. Could he hear what was happening? Most likely, the idea of that burned you in a new, much more unpleasant manner. Chosi must have said something, but you had been too occupied by your surroundings and too tired to even listen to what other vile things he had to tell you. The only thing that kept you at that table was the food, but no matter how good, it wasn’t worth enduring him. ‘You know what,’ you grabbed your napkin and slapped it onto the table, ‘I can’t do this right now. I’ll see you on the boat.’ The chair shrieked as you shoved it back.
‘Where the hell do you think you’re going,’ Chosi growled practically, and despite you having already turned your back to him, you heard his own chair scrape the deck floor. You had your eyes squeezed shut as you got ready for what was coming. He reached out, but nothing happened. 
You looked over your shoulder to see Sanji pulling Chosi in by the sleeve. 
‘Believe me, we don’t wanna do that, mate.’ Sanji said, his eyes filled with a new rage that made you take a step back.
‘Let go of me, you sleaze.’ Chosi suddenly reminded you of a feral kitten, how he tried to wriggle himself out of the waiter’s grip. ‘I’ll make you regret ever touching me. Do you know who I am?’
‘Do I look like I give a shit?’ he let go with a laugh, almost pushing Chosi to the ground. As your date dusted off his sleeves, Sanji took a step forward, pressing himself against him. Now that both men were standing face to face, did you only realise how much taller Sanji was than your boyfriend. How much bigger and, most likely, how much stronger. With a hushed and reserved tone yet somehow full of intimidation, the waiter said, ‘Don’t you ever try to touch or speak to a woman like that again, you hear me? Or I’ll make you regret you were ever born.’ 
Chosi could only nod with his eyes blown wide open. The restaurant was dead quiet, unable to pull their eyes away from the scene unfolding before them. No one said anything or moved, and yet, somewhere, a stack of plates fell. The crash of porcelain echoed through the space, and Sanji turned his attention toward the kitchen’s double doors for a second. That quick moment was enough for Chosi to find his moment and attack.
Or at least make an attempt at it. 
Sanji was still looking toward the kitchen, and Chosi’s fist was in mid-air, but the waiter flawlessly manoeuvred around it, swinging himself back and letting Chosi fall forward. To make matters worse, Sanji supplemented the fall by kicking him over. If it wasn’t for the fact that your boyfriend’s chin had smacked against the table, you would have missed the entire thing, as Sanji’s movements were so elegant that it seemed as if he had not moved at all. He might as well have been refilling your water, ignorant of the groaning mess of a man he had kicked down to the ground with such ease. 
Chosi got up shakily. A nasty cut was already dripping blood from the underside of his face, but the redness didn’t compare to the rage on his face. He looked around until his eyes caught yours. ‘What, you’re just gonna stand there like some dumb–’
‘What did I just say?’ Sanji said, this time much louder, not trying to hide the row from the rest of the diners. But before he could make another move, Chosi reached for the nearest thing he could reach, which in his case was your dish of ramen, and threw a fistful of noodles Sanji’s way, hitting him square in the chest. 
Silence. 
He must have been too stunned at the audacious strike to move out of the way for it. Everyone must have been watching the noodles unstick from his navy jacket and slowly fall to the ground, then watched as Sanji raised his head back up, his expression unamused and cold, but his eyes filled with a passionate and furious fire. One that was enough to live up to the promise he had made the man you had come to the restaurant with. And so, just like that, without another word needing to be said by anyone, you watched Chosi back away—one, two, three steps, whimpering and mumbling some comments that could almost make up an apology, before he sprinted up the stairs to the exit. 
‘Ridiculous,’ you heard Sanji mutter under his breath. ‘Fucking waste of food.’
Before you could think any better about it, you walked up and knelt down, as he did, to reach for the spilt noodles. ‘I am so sorry,’ you started apologising. ‘I swear normally he–’
  ‘Is exactly like that,’ Sanji chuckled with a rasp. You looked up at him, a bit dumbfounded. He had managed to scoop most of the food before you had and was already getting up. ‘You have nothing to apologise for.’ One of his colleagues had been quick with bringing over cleaning supplies. ‘If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. Let me make it up to you—a drink in the bar, on the house.’
‘No, that is really not necessary.’ You couldn’t accept anything for free after your boyfriend pulled off such a scene and… had run off without paying. The realisation hit you like a brick on the head as you cursed under your breath with a strong sense of panic, which Sanji caught on to immediately. 
‘Please,’ He reached gently for your arm. ‘I insist.’
You stuttered for a moment before actually answering in defeated agreement. With a satisfied smile, Sanji led you to another exit, leading to the bar deck. ‘Right this way, madame.’
The bar deck, located in the mouth of that giant fish head, was moderately empty. Except for you and the appointed barman behind the counter, only a handful of others were sprinkled across the couches and futons. You chose a seat overlooking the sea and the setting sun that coloured the sky and waters an array of warm colours. 
You understood that you had to go up to the bar to order, but you felt no particular need for it, just enjoying the breeze that brought over the calm sea air towards you. 
It was unclear how much time you spent sitting out there, looking at the waves splashing by and the clouds above you and the people around you. Only once the sun had set entirely, darkening the sky completely, and most people had left the area, you decide to finally walk up to the bartender and place an order. The man nodded and proceeded to make your drink with only a few attached flourishes to the craft, but the result was charming and tasted delicious.
‘I hope I had made it clear that that was one drink on the house,’ you heard from behind you. 
‘Don’t worry, this is my first.’ You said, turning around to see Sanji standing behind you. 
‘You might just be the slowest drinker I have ever met,’ he said as he took the spot by your side.
‘Jeez, do your manners flush away the second you’re off the clock?’ You smiled, taking a sip of your drink, most likely also proving Sanji his point as the sip you took was particularly small. 
‘For what it’s worth, madame, I was about to tell you that your bill has been taken care of.’ He leaned against the bar countertop with his forearms. ‘But I will make myself scarce now.’
‘No, wait,’ you stopped him before he could push himself back. ‘What do you mean it was– I would have happily paid. At least let me leave a tip.’ You were ready to pull out your purse when he took his turn to halt your movements. 
‘I will not be accepting any tips for my service today. And honestly, you barely had a meal to eat, let alone to pay for. It is all taken care of. I promise.’
You looked up at him apprehensively, but something about his–not necessarily laidback–but how he was so comfortable with the situation put you at ease, too. But something was gnawing at your conscience. 
‘Alright then, but I disagree with the review of your service. You most certainly need something for it in return.’ How could you repay the man who had just gotten you out of your horrific relationship? You doubted anything in the world could match your actual gratefulness. Although, maybe the smile that pulled at Sanji’s lips said something different.
‘Let me cook for you.’
‘What?’ You blinked slowly, making him smile even wider.
‘You haven’t eaten anything proper in hours. Let me make you something in the kitchen–an exclusive guest experience.’
‘That doesn’t sound much like a gratuity for you.’ You pointed out, but he did not seem to mind.
‘Indulge me,’ was all he responded with. Feeling giddy at the prospect, you glanced over at the bartender, who was definitely listening in on the conversation. Understanding what you meant with your look, he simply shrugged while wiping the glasses. 
‘Ok then.’ This entire thing felt utterly ridiculous, and you didn’t hide the amusement you felt from it as Sanji opened the door to the kitchen for you. That is when your smile lightly faltered, only to be replaced with a fallen jaw as you looked around in amazement. Like the dining area, this room had a high ceiling but wasn’t decorated as much as simply visually enhanced by all the bronze pots and pans hanging around, and the pipes leading from the ovens and stoves up to the chimneys. There were long lines of prep stations, behind which one Sanji comfortably made himself at home as he immediately got started on something.
The first few minutes, after you watched him exchange his suit jacket for a white chef’s uniform, you were occupied with the kitchen itself, but once you had gotten used to the environment, you wondered where you could make yourself equally comfortable as not a nuisance to him as he cooked. 
‘Make yourself at home, sweetheart,’ he said while chopping some ingredients at a speed that made your heart skip a beat in fear. Or did that come from the new nickname that caught you by surprise? 
‘What happened to “madame”?’ you walked closer to his station. Sanji just looked up briefly, eye covered by his hair but his smile evermore present. Your smile lasted longer as you forgot you had meant to look at what he was doing, not to stare at him. Noticing he was not planning on answering your question, you asked another. ‘So, what exactly are you making?’
‘Since I’m sure dinner did not turn out entirely as you had planned, I thought maybe dessert would be a good pick-me-up. Rose and chocolate meringue tartes, how does that sound?’
  ‘Makes me wonder what I did to deserve it,’ you laugh it off while speaking the question that had been on your mind this whole time. 
‘I like to show a lady how she’s meant to be treated,’ he said as he poured several ingredients into a glass bowl and began wicking at a pace that should have stopped him from looking so effortless long ago. ‘It’s all part of the special package deal.’
‘Right, the Sanji Special, was it?’ You looked around at the countertop next to him, which seemed free from ingredients and anything you could set on fire. You glanced his way, and he swiftly nodded your way. With that permission in mind, you pushed yourself up on the counter, swinging your legs lightly back and forth. ‘So what exactly does this special indicate?’
‘A nice meal, a little surprise, a few kind words, nothing too crazy. I would like to think that, with it, I have perfected the recipe on how to eliminate shitbag boyfriends like that prince charming you came here with.’
‘My knight in shining armour.’ You rolled your eyes, hiding how much you appreciated all his actions from that day. ‘Must have worked on quite a few girls then?’
‘Can’t say it has,’ he said as he pushed the oven open to prebake a few tartelette frames. The speed at which he worked truly was otherworldly. 
‘Can’t because of a bad success rate or because you hadn’t actually tried it before?’
He appeared next to you from beside the oven; tiny droplets of sweat were forming at his temple, but his energy was still burning like the fire under the pot where he was melting the chocolate. ‘Let's say the latter. For both our dignity’s sake.’ It did not come as a surprise to you that he was a flirt and most likely tried these tricks out on the entirety of the female clientele, and yet, for reasons unknown, you did not mind one bit, and it still did not seize to make the smallest of his advances work on you with tremendous effect. 
‘Don’t think I have much more of that left after  everything that happened out there.’ You cringed at the memory of the shouting, the mess, and just how many people had been sitting there watching you. 
‘There’s been much worse out there, believe me.’ Sanji lowered the fire under the pan lightly.
‘I hardly believe that. He threw noodles at you. That is absolutely revolting behaviour.’ And somehow, you managed not to get kicked out of the restaurant along with Chosi but even got to hang out in the kitchen after hours as a special dessert was being prepared for you… by the waiter that your boyfriend had tried to assault— no, that your ex-boyfriend tried to assault. That felt much better, but still didn’t let the whole situation make any more sense.
‘And that wouldn’t even make the top ten of shit that’s happened around this place.’
‘I… am not sure wether to be relieved or disappointed.’ For an inexplicable reason, you thought you would be more memorable to him. However, would you have wanted that, seeing the actual circumstances under which that would be? Ugh.
As if he could read your mind, Sanji added in. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not planning on forgetting you anytime soon.’
‘I bet you say that to everyone.’ You rolled your eyes, to which he just smiled. ‘But really, I am sorry for what happened—especially to your suit.’
‘I care more about the noodles, honestly, don’t like seeing food go to waste—’ he drifted off with his thoughts before coming back up to the surface with another question, ‘speaking of noodles, where’d you meet this guy anyway?’
‘It’s complicated,’ you sighed, not wanting to burden him with your story, but from the eager attitude he was conveying as he managed his ingredients, he did not hold the same sentiment over it. ‘We had been friends for ages—out dads worked together—and it seemed, to everyone, apparently, like the natural progression of events that we would end up together.’
‘Everyone… except for you?’ he assumed, looking up at you from the counter space.
‘No, I mean, at first I thought so too, but over time… well, you saw it yourself. But by the time I had realised what a mess I had gotten myself into, it felt like I was already too late.’
‘How so?’ You heard the gentleness in his question like he was treading the topic lightly, not wanting to put any pressure on it or on you to answer. 
‘Heard people talking he had been planning to propose.’ You shrugged it off. ‘But I doubt that will be happening anymore.’
‘What are you going to do now?’ The question came with that same carefulness but perhaps a bit more intrigue. You simply shrugged again.
‘Will probably have to find another ship to get back home on, as I can’t imagine he would want me on board with him.’ It was crazy you had not bothered to check but assumed that he had already taken off hours ago, leaving you behind to fend for yourself. ‘And then, if I see him again… well, not much else I can do but officially dump his ass.’
‘So I shouldn’t feel bad for what I did?’ He stopped what he was doing as he waited for an answer.
‘Absolutely not. I can’t thank you enough for doing that.’ 
The both of you shared sheepish smiles before you watched him work silently for a few more minutes. The tarte frames came out of the oven in a beautifully crisp golden tone, and he mixed the chocolate into a thick mousse while the rosy syrup lay back to cool off. While the two of you remained quiet, the kitchen was anything but that as his utensils clinked around the pans. You thought back to a few hours ago and how the silence at your table had been anything but this. You had sat in a cold dread, waiting for something to snap until it inevitably did. However, you sat back comfortably here, happily watching as Sanji focused on his work. 
It really was his element. While you thought the man had been exemplary at waiting tables, it was nothing compared to the ease at which he performed here. Each move he made seemed like second nature to him. 
‘Do all the waiters here know how to cook like this?’ you inquired, leaning in to see how he filled the pastries up, hands in a tight grip on the piping bag. 
‘The ones that are cooks do,’ he chuckled. 
‘You’re a cook?’ you blinked, ‘then what were you doing out there earlier?’ 
‘Ah, the old shitbag that runs this place likes to torture me and send me off to do the waitin’.’ He readjusted his hold on the piping bag, briefly stopping to wipe his hand on the towel tucked between his belt. 
‘Doesn’t that bother you? I’m sure you’d much rather work here.’ You certainly would. Some people could be real assholes to serve… your former date being a prime example. But Sanji simply laughed it off.
‘Nah, not when beautiful women are out there waiting to be served.’ He stopped to look up at you with a shit-eating grin, and the unseriousness dripping off of it made you blush, smile along with him and push him back by his shoulder before you would do something else much more irrational. Perhaps a bit too hard, as he lost his balance, only finding it on the counter, exactly where the piping bag had been left behind. His palm fell right over the ending, bursting out the mousse in an unfortunate mess, spilling all over him and the counter.
‘Oh no,’ you said, covering your mouth but not the giggles from it, ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘You think it’s funny, don’t you?’ He couldn’t keep his smile, but you shook your head harshly. ‘You’ll pay for this,’ he pointed his hand, covered in chocolate, at you. Several thoughts ran through your mind initially, but you managed to suppress most of them, opting for simply running your finger over the back of his hand where most of the mousse had spilt and giving it a taste. 
‘That is really good.’ you hummed at the sweetness. Sanji stood back, somewhat frozen at what you had done, but quickly thawed out with a few blinks.
‘Well, what else did you expect?’ He wiped the rest of his hand on the towel at his side, ‘and I’ll have you know it’s rude to eat the food before it’s done. Takes away from the experience.’
‘I’m sorry,’ you pouted, ‘but I promise you I am still very much enjoying this whole experience.’
‘You better.’ Sanji said, taking the baking tray and putting it back in the oven for the last few minutes. With the oven door shut, he sighed and leaned against the counter opposite you. ‘Now we wait.’
‘How long exactly?’
‘In a rush, are we?’ He glanced at you from behind his hair, and the question made you heat up in the face. Because how could you explain to this practical stranger that you were feeling the opposite of what he insinuated. That you did not want this night to end at all. That being here with him, even if you were just waiting for a damn tart to bake, you were having more fun than you had had in weeks, if not longer. So, all you did was simply shake your head again. 
‘It will be just a few minutes, and then gotta let it cool for a bit.’ He reassured you. That is when you noticed the bowl he had mixed the mousse in, mostly scraped clean while filling up the piping bag, but even the best chef can’t always scrape every last ounce out. Now, you might not have had any particular urge to leave any time soon, but you certainly were hungry, and having tasted just how delicious Sanji’s food was, you couldn’t help but lean in to get another little taste. 
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ He said, bemused, reaching to stop you from taking another swipe of mousse onto your finger. His hand gently grabbed your wrist, but he had been too late. When he caught you, you had your hand directly over your lips, looking up at him. He glared down at you in a daring manner. 
You licked the chocolate off yourself as innocently as possible without bursting into laughter. 
‘I can’t believe you’d do that.’ He took a step forward, nearly closing the gap between you. The presence of his body, so close to yours, almost touching, reverberated off of you with warmth, and suddenly, you felt the breath you had taken to be stuck in the back of your throat. ‘Did you not listen to anything I just said?’ His breath was hot against your skin, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it was a direct source of the skip in your heart. 
‘Of course I did.’ You ignored the fast beating of your heart and the feeling like it might just burst out of your chest as you took him by the arm to give you some space and let you slide down the counter back onto your feet. ‘Something about experience and…’ you slid out from between him and the counter, and as you did so, swooped by the bowl of mousse with your finger one last time. ‘I forgot what else.’
‘You are unbelievable,’ Sanji reached for your hand, but you were quicker and manoeuvred around him and from his arm’s reach. Taunting him with the mousse, you walked around the work counters, and he, happily playing along, followed suit. 
Like children, you ran around the kitchen, with him not far behind you, trying to catch you until he finally did, picking you up by the waist. Unintentionally, a squeak of a shriek came out of you, followed by both your laughs. You kept on laughing until you heard something outside the door. Heavy footsteps, freezing you both in your place until they moved on by. That is when you noted the time. Hours past midnight.
‘Are we even allowed to be in here at this time?’ You whispered as if the person who had walked by would suddenly be able to hear you.
‘Of course,’ Sanji said with confidence, but his expression juxtaposed this with signs that you could only read as “absolutely fucking not.” chances were that if you were caught in the kitchen at this time of night, you would be shot on the spot by, what did Sanji call him, the old shitbag.
But before you could run away in fear of getting caught, it was Sanji’s turn to take you by surprise. As you stood in his arms, he leaned in and wrapped his mouth around your finger, sucking all the chocolate right off. You could feel his tongue move down your knuckles and back up until he released it, leaving you stunned and wide-eyed. 
‘I thought it’s rude to eat a dish before it’s done,’ you managed to sputter out. 
‘So you did listen,’ he smiled, ‘but you might want to know that a good cook always tastes their dishes in the process, and that… was delicious.’
‘Are you always this humble about your cooking?’ Your heart was basically in your throat at this moment.
‘Wasn’t talking about the food,’ his tone was deep, sultry, as he leaned closer. ‘But care to give me another taste?’
Your breath was officially hitched in your throat, unable to breathe properly, as you stared at him, body flooding with heat and need for him. As words escaped you, you nodded lightly and leaned in as he did the same, meeting your lips in the middle with a kiss.
As soon as it happened, his arms found their spot on your side as you fastened yourself on his shoulders. It was nothing like you expected it to be. For a man spending his entire nights and days in the kitchen, he felt nothing like it. You could smell the cologne, taste the cigarettes and the fresh mint he used to conceal the former. His tender but firm touch held you in your place as he pressed closer.
There was a force to it, but nothing that you didn’t feel in yourself to copy as the need for him boiled deep inside you. 
Your hand moved slowly up to his cheek, over to his hair at the nape of his neck.
One of his hands, in the meantime, had found your thigh, pulling it up over his leg as he squeezed your soft flesh, but before giving you a chance to even react to this new position and all its implications, Sanji moved.
Pulling apart, leaving your lips to be the last piece he detached from as he kept your bottom lip between his teeth lightly, he apologised, ‘Excuse me for a moment.’ because while you might have forgotten all about the world around you, he had still been keeping track of the tartelettes that were baking down in the oven. 
He pulled the tray of pastries out with a white tea towel, practically throwing it down on the counter, discarding it with a metal clang.
‘Now we wait for them to cool,’ he explained as he got back to you.
‘And what were you planning on doing in the meantime,’ you pulled him back in by the blue ascot tie. 
With his lips ghosting over yours, he half-whispered, ‘I might have a few things in mind,’ and with it, kissed you again. While the kiss itself was not much different, with that same intensity and passion running through both of you as before, now you were very much aware of what was to follow. If it wasn’t your need that spurred you on, then it was Sanji and his eagerness. Despite his chef’s uniform and the navy apron, you could feel him grow harder against you as the kiss continued. A moan escaped you as his lips travelled down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses one by one until he reached a spot that was more sensitive than others. The simple touch sparked a fuse inside you.
As he continued playing with your sensitive skin, he led both your bodies to one of the empty tables at the side of the room, pressing you right against the edge and locking you in between it and him.
Without needing him to say a word, you understood exactly what you needed to do and climbed on top of the table, spreading your legs to make space for him right in the middle. 
Your dress might have hiked up slightly over your thighs, but it wasn’t enough for Sanji, who took it upon himself to pull it up. 
‘I hope you don’t mind me saying’,’ he smiled as he kissed the corner of your mouth and as his hand reached the top of your leg, ‘but I had been thinkin' about this ever since I saw you.’
‘Me too,’ you exhaled deeply, letting the confession sink in. Maybe Chosi was right after all. Now, with him out of the picture, you could admit that something had been there from the start, from the moment you caught a glimpse of the waiter cook. And if it wasn’t for all the shit that occurred that day, maybe you would have felt a twinge of guilt as you guided Sanji’s hand between your legs. If you had not shut that chapter behind you, perhaps you would have felt bad, but any insecurities of that disappeared as Sanji began to toy with your core. His slender fingers grazed slowly over your slit, putting enough pressure on it to make you arch your back in need of more. 
‘Already so needy,’ he smirked. ‘And I barely touched you.’
‘Touch me then,’ you said with gritted teeth.
‘Don’t need to tell me twice.’ His fingers moved up in pace and barely went any deeper, keeping you on the edge of satisfaction. ‘And what would madame like me to do?’ He threaded his movements, and you were growing impatient with the teasing.
‘Fuck me,’ ready to hear his next question, you added, ‘I don’t care how.’
His grin only grew wider at your words. Much to your dislike, he pulled his hand away to place both at your thighs, pressing his fingers into your skin and using that as leverage to make more space for himself in between.
‘As madame wishes.’ He spoke softly right below your ear as he descended onto his knees. 
The kiss he left over your panties already invoked a tremble through your entire body, and it only got worse from there, in the best sense. He pushed your underwear aside and took his time giving you all his attention and care. Kissing your core deeply until his nose pressed up against you. His tongue licked up your juices like a starving man until your eyes rolled back, and you felt weak. 
The table you were perched on was empty, so you only had Sanji to hold on to. At first, you reached for his shoulder, but it was just not high enough for you to find support. As you tried to look for it, Sanji reached for your hand and brought it up to the side of his head for you to tangle your fingers in his light locks. Before you even managed to grab onto them, simply letting your nails trace over his hair, you felt the vibrations of his moans strike you. Another deep blow to your senses pulled you further down to the edge. Closer and closer until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your grip on his hair tightened as your breath grew sporadic. 
‘Fuck, fuck,’ you moaned, voice filled with desperation for a release, and one that Sanji would be more than pleased to give you… just not quite yet. As he pulled away from you, you deflated with the feeling of a ruined climax and the urge to pull him back to finish what he had started, but all you could do was whimper in protest. 
‘Don’t worry,’ he kissed your knee softly, ‘all in good time. I promise to take good care of you,’ and with that, he rose back up to his feet, untying his apron.
‘That was good,’ your chest still moving up and down heavily as you caught your breath. ‘Really good.’
‘It pleases me to hear that,’  he said as he threw the apron aside onto the ground. ‘And believe me, I would love to go back for seconds—’
‘Does all your pillow talk stem from restaurant jargon?’ you interrupted jokingly. 
‘You laugh, and yet you’re the one begging me to fuck you.’ God, he was so cocky, with the way he stood there in front of you, his head tilted sideways, and his lip turned up in a grin that told you he knew he was right. ‘So, please, let me.’ His hand was already on his belt buckle. 
There was no time or need for either of you to undress. With your dress hiked up to your hips, he already had easy enough access, and once his belt was loose, it only took a few sharp pulls for you to release him from the material restraints. 
‘You ready?’ he asked.
‘For the love of god,’ grabbing him by the arm, you pulled him in, ‘stop talking and just take me.’ You knew he was about to respond, but before he got the chance to make another absurdly silly but nonetheless flirtatious comment, you shit him up with a kiss. Just like that, the two of you melted into one another. Sanji made himself comfortable between you and let his lips wander down to your neck again, to that one spot he found that drove you crazy. 
He kept kissing your neck as he finally slid into you. The two feelings made your body go weak, melting you into a puddle of burning nerves as he spread your walls and filled you up perfectly. 
First, he moved slowly, but with each thrust, he sped up more and more, putting more force into it until you were both shaking with ferocity, and the table underneath you scratched over the planks it stood upon. The sound of the tortured floor was the only thing covering up both your moans and that of the messy skin-to-skin contact. 
While he practically pounded into you, you reached for his hair again. There was just something about it: how messy you managed to make it with a few tugs and brushstrokes. All of it, how he acted and reacted, it was all in response to you. Just how he made you see stars with each move he made. 
‘Feels so good, fuck,’ he groaned over your shoulder as you grabbed for his, pulling him closer if possible. He had your legs pressed against his sides. He shook his head quickly, letting the hair flick out of his sight, but the attempt was poor as the lock quickly fell back over his eye despite his efforts. 
‘San–’ you moaned, ‘Sanji–’ 
‘That’s right,’ he might as well have been kissing you, so close were his lips to you, but instead, the only thing you truly felt was his hot breath on your skin as he kept going deeper and harder. ‘Gonna come for me? His voice got even deeper the longer he kept going. At the sound of it, your nails dug into his back, his striped shirt being the only thing saving him from possibly some nasty scratches, but it seemed to only spur him on more. ‘I–’ you gasped out as you felt him hit the deepest part of you.
‘Yeah?’ 
‘I’m close, fuck.’ the pit in your stomach tightened, your muscles strained as you tried to hold on to that feeling of pleasure he brought over you. The tension built up like a band being pulled tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment; he had you in his grip, waiting to let go of you at the exact right time. All you needed was that touch, just the right one in the right spot. 
You could feel it all. Could feel just how close he was himself as his thrusts got sloppier, and his breathing grew heavier and rougher between his words. ‘Yeah, c’mon. I know you can do it. Come all over my cock. ‘’s gonna feel so good, I promise you.’
The encouragement might not have been necessarily what did it. It was more like a concoction of things that all led to this precise moment when ecstasy overtook your body and washed over you like a hot flash. Sanji was not far behind you, riding his high as he ensured you got to yours. His movements slowed down as you felt the cum slick down your thighs. While you both caught your breath, it became quiet once more. 
It took you a bit longer to catch up on air in your lungs, and so while you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, you heard Sanji zip his trousers back up and lightly walk across the aisle between the workstations. When you opened your eyes again, he was making his way back to you already, a handful of paper towels in his hand. 
Despite the burn you already felt in your sore muscles, you spread your legs one last time to give him access to clean you up. His soft touches to your sensitive core now were in stark contrast to what he had been doing to you moments ago, but the cold of the damp towel brought a nice sense of comfort. 
‘You think you can stand up for me?’ he asked gently, and the little words in that tone were enough to make your heart flutter. 
‘Yeah, I think so.’ You said, but that was quickly proven wrong when your knees buckled almost immediately when your feet touched the ground. It was only because of the way that Sanji held your arm that you had not completely toppled over. 
‘Woah, alright.’ He smiled, never letting go of you, ‘How about we just sit for now.’ Slowly, he guided you to sit on the ground, back against a cabinet. ‘Water?’ 
You nodded in agreement. The question had made you realise just how parched you were.
‘Still, sparkling, mineral?’
‘Surprise me.’ You said through a tired smile at the reference to how he waited on you earlier, but moments later, you reminded yourself of your preference, ‘just not sparkling! It just tastes foul.’ 
‘Anything but sparkling water, coming right up.’ He moved around the room to pour you some surprise water, and while he did so, you pressed your face into your hands, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Less than 12 hours ago, you had been walking up the deck, arm in arm, with your good-for-nothing boyfriend, soon-to-be fiance. Now you sat on the ground of a restaurant kitchen, with no idea where said–now ex–-boyfriend was in the world, coming down from one of the best orgasms you had ever received… all by the hand of a stranger. A handsome stranger at that. One that you could imagine seeing much more of in the future, but it was all just too silly. 
And you were tired. And hungry. 
‘Voila,’ Sanji appeared in front of you with impeccable timing, a large ice-cold looking glass in one hand, filled with ice cubes and cucumber, and two plates in the other hand. The rose and chocolate meringue tartes look particularly inviting. ‘Thought you might finally want to try one,’ he said as he handed you a plate and fork.
‘I swear, you’re a godsend.’ No matter in how much need you were of a drink, the sight of the dessert made your mouth water. 
‘Ah, just a little something sweet for—’
‘If you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say, I will shove this tarte in your face.’ One could only endure so much of this sappy flirting, even if you found it very endearing. Sanji shut his mouth and sat beside you, poking his fork into his portion.
The two of you ate quickly but still took enough time to appreciate the flavours that oozed out of the pastry and its filling. The moan you made as it all reached your tastebuds might have been more pornographic than any sound you made while he had been deep inside you. 
‘Mmm, this is delicious,’ you said through another bite. The praise brought a huge smile to the cook’s lips. ‘Seriously, thank you. For everything.’
‘It’s been my pleasure,’ he spoke in a way that almost made you think he was getting shy on you. That felt unlikely, but you let him process it all for a moment as you kept eating. 
Only once you had eaten everything off your plate did you ask your next question of the evening. ‘How did you know I would like this?’
‘It’s a chef’s best trait,’ he pulled the fork out of his mouth with a pop, ‘to be able to read their customers well. To be able to tell what they like or dislike; to know them better than they know themselves.’
‘But how?’ With intrigue, you moved closer to him. He had been leaning against the same cupboard as you, one of his knees raised up and an arm hanging casually over it. His hair was still messy, falling over his eye. ‘How could you tell I would enjoy this specific dish?’ 
The one unobstructed eye fell over you, looking up and down over your body as his mischievous smile reappeared. ‘It felt fitting.’
‘How so?’ You blinked, confused as to what he meant.
‘Sweet, decadent and hot; what’s there not to like? I mean—’ he leaned in over his arm to kiss you, feather-light. Then, he hummed as he pulled back. ‘It is an absolutely divine combination.’
Your cheeks burned up for what felt like the millionth time that evening, and you could not dare keep looking at him as he stared down at you with that innate hunger. That kind that could only be filled with one thing, and it just so happened to have wholly exhausted you. 
‘Is this still all part of that special of yours?’
To this, Sanji shrugged, ‘Depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On how long you want to keep me around.’ He scraped some leftover mousse from his plate, licking it off his fork.
‘I think for a while,’ you admitted. Yeah, you definitely hadn’t had enough of him yet. 
‘Well, then there’s so much more I can do for you, madame.’
the end
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thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and commenting-either through the comments, in a reblog or through my inbox <3 to hear your thoughts on my writing means the world to me and really is a huge help in motivation to keep going.
you can find my other writing here
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inklore · 10 months
Text
just a taste
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premise: meeting luca after work doesn't usually end up with the two of you in an intense lip lock, both of you knowing once you start it's hard to stop. but that's what offices are for, right?
pairing: luca x (f)reader
word count: 3.1k
contents: literally barely any plot here, oral (f rec), unprotected p in v, coming inside, established relationship, doing it at the workplace, teasing, dirty talk, pet names.
note: i know the bare minimum about this man because i’ve never seen the bear but those tattoos, the accent, the hair?? fill me like an eclair is all i have to say ok!
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The cool breeze of the night air almost makes you regret not just heading straight home and slipping under the steam of a nice long shower and grabbing the first blanket you see on the sofa and planting yourself there for the rest of the night. Await your boyfriend's arrival under the comfort of cotton and cushion that he’ll surely plop down next to you on after he’s kicked off his shoes. His cold fingers finding you under the blanket to pull you close to his side, a string of kisses pressed along the side of your neck before finding your lips. The smell of yeast and sugar—embedded in his skin at this point—making you bury your nose into his collarbone. 
But this was a ritual for the both of you. 
You finishing your studies and then meeting him after work. 
The two of you walking home together, barely making it through the threshold of your place before lips and clothes were being pressed together and thrown to the floor. Luca’s soft laugh at needing to shower. Thus always leading to your face pressed into the wall of the shower and Luca’s fingers digging into your hips as he thrust inside of you. 
So that nibble of regret doesn’t last long when you come to a stop in front of his work. The makings of anticipation pull at the corner of your mouth as you grab your phone from your bag and start to text him to let him know you’re out front. 
A text that’s barely on the last word when the breeze of the door is hitting you and making you look up, “you can go in. He's in the back.” a co-worker you’ve met a dozen times, but his name slips your mind as you give him an appreciative smile and thank him as you slip through the doors as he walks out. 
You could enter the kitchen a dozen times—a million, a billion—your nose filling with that sweet aroma, Luca bent over a table, a dish, fingers deep in a ball of dough, the monochromatic uniform making his tattoos stand out on his skin like the most beautiful canvas, and you’d never get over the view. 
Over how your insides react when you see him in his element.
See him doing what he loves. 
It’s like the first time every time. 
Just like the first time he dragged you into the kitchen after your tenth date. Showing you his own version of paradise. His love. His joy. The way his face lit up when your eyes brightened when you bit into the scone he had made—saved—for you. The euphoric sweetness a good dessert can do to one's brainstem is still a scientific mystery to you, but you’d gladly leave the research to the experts if you could experience it forever. 
Taste Luca’s creations forever. 
That memory seems like ages ago. Now well into two years of your relationship. 
Nothing seems to fade with Luca. 
Your first times feeling just as tortuous to your fluttering insides as the tenth or twentieth time around. 
It knocks you off kilter in the best way. 
And when you look over at Luca after dropping off your bag and sweater in an open chair, you can not help but laugh when he finally looks up from cleaning off the surfaces of the metal tables and that stone look of him being in chef mode falls from the creases of his face and his features melt into something soft. 
He doesn’t say anything until his arm is around your midsection, drawing you in. “Hi, beautiful.” He smiles as your lips meet in a long kiss. Kissing you as if he hasn’t seen you in days, as if he has spent the entire day waiting for this moment and this moment alone. “How was your day?” 
“Not as good as it is now,” you tease. Hand in the back of his hair, pulling his mouth back to yours. 
The hum that makes your lips buzz and that lands on your tongue as he backs you up so your back is pressed into the doorframe makes anything you could tell him about what happened in your day lackluster. Incomparable. How could you possibly think of anything worthwhile—how could anything be as worthwhile—as his tongue moving along your bottom lip, his hand at the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing a small circle into your skin? 
It couldn’t.
"Let me finish cleaning up," he smirks. Thumb and pointer reaching for your chin, squeezing it, luring you in for one last kiss before returning to cleaning and leaving you dazed in the doorway.  
And if you didn’t know how seriously Luca takes this, from the ritual of making pastries to maintaining a stern, clean kitchen, you would tell him to hurry. Complaining that it is not fair for him to kiss you like that and then make you wait for him to finish, but the payoff was always worth the wait. And you love Luca’s love for his craft. Love him in this element—watching him and seeing him go into that little part of his brain that makes him go into boss mode. 
The stern gentleness of it all. 
It’s breathtaking to watch.
It’s art.
He’s art. 
So that’s what you do. 
You push off the doorframe and enter further into the kitchen just to watch him. 
“How was your day?” You ask while watching him write on the white board in the corner. 
“Good. We got a new guy who came in.” 
“Is he any good?” 
“Better than he thinks he is.” 
“I bet you brought out his best. You always do.” You smile at him when you watch him shrug off the compliment, not missing the twitch of the corner of his mouth. Ever so modest. 
Wordlessly, he puts the cap back on the marker and sets it against the metal of the board, walking over to one of the refrigerators and pulling out a small bowl of something green and white. 
Something that looks too beautifully crafted to eat, let alone eaten by someone who might not fully understand what went into making something so decadent—something that looks like it would be served to someone with a gold card, not someone who eats boxed mac and cheese for dinner twice a week (which Luca always tries to make fancier than Kraft ever could). 
Luca hands you a spoon, “told him the only critic that mattered was sharing a bed with me.” You make a face, the both of you knowing how outlandish that sounds when the food genius himself is standing in front of you. The critic who mattered to a lot of people more than the girl who was sharing his bed. 
But it still brings a smile to your face. 
“Did he think you were utterly insane for such a statement? I think eating greasy takeout two nights in a row is five star dining.”
He chuckles, “you’re the only critic that matters to me.” His palms come down on the edge of the metal table between you as he leans against it. “The only important one at least. Try it.”
The swoop that runs through you from his words, from his eagerness to hear your thoughts on a dessert you do not even know the name of, but know you will appreciate more than anyone else because it came from someone he admires, makes your cheeks heat up. 
And when it touches your tongue, when that euphoric sweetness overcomes your tastebuds, you don’t think the English dictionary could come in handy with describing the taste. The goodness of it. Compliments, which you know Luca and his fellow chefs have heard many times before and then some. But still bring that artist's joy to their chests when your eyes widen and you look at them in something akin to shock. 
The moan you let out makes him grin.
“Good?”
“Is he single?” 
“Oh, that’s how it is, huh?” His arms cross over his chest, a playful brow raised.
You take another bite of the dessert, “I think you might want to start looking for another job.”
“And a girlfriend?”
You nod, “with something that tastes this good, I would give him my social security number easily. Oh my god.” You dramatically moan around the spoon, the action doing little to hide the simpering look on your face.
“Here I thought I was the only one who could make you spill such confidential secrets.” Luca strides across the table, coming to stand at your back. His lips pressing against the back of your neck and the top of your shoulder. 
Finding its home where your collarbone meets the junction of your throat, where he lets his warm breath blow against the known sensitivity there, then presses his lips to it. Making your back push into his front, your body melting against him. 
A soft noise lays dormant at the tail end  of your throat, making a ghost of a smirk etch against your skin from his mouth as he murmurs, “and the only one who can make those noises come out of you.”
Your voice is breathy when you say, “so much for being humble.”
"When it’s the truth, I do not need to be humble." His lips trailing to your ear, fingers running up the back of your exposed thighs, pulling up your skirt until they are at the apex of your hip, skating forward and close to your clothed mound. “Am I wrong? Should we see?” 
The spoon in your hand lucky you don’t have superhuman strength because it would be crushed in your grip right now. 
Luca’s fingers splay themselves across your pelvis, toying with the top of your underwear. “Hmm, awfully quiet now. Where’d my mouthy girl go?” An airy chuckle tickles your ear as he lets it out, “humbled are you?” 
There’s a teasing sneer forming on your mouth before it does a 180 and morphs into an ‘o’ as Luca’s fingers push into your underwear, the pad running through the clear as day arousal that’s been making your thighs clench uncomfortably since your kiss in the doorway. 
When the finger moves against your clit there's no covering up the gasps that fall from your lips. Or the way your ass grinds against the erection that’s pressing up against it. 
“Who’s humble now?” He teases. A cheeky grin on his face when he pulls his hand out from your underwear, bringing his finger to his lips and sucking it into his mouth. Making your cheeks heat even more when you turn to look at him. Your teasing turns needy as you give him that look, the one that always makes him drop whatever he is doing and have his body on yours within seconds. 
You both know that making it home now will feel ten times longer. Ten times more agonizing in the cool air with your warming bodies.
With you soaking your underwear and him hard against his zipper. 
So when he says “office”, all you can do is chew on your bottom lip in eagerness as you make a beeline towards it. Luca closer behind you than you expect when you hear the door shut seconds after you’ve entered and his mouth immediately on yours, your ass hoisted onto the nearest surface. 
Luca’s fingers making quick work to pull down your underwear, your skirt bunched at your hips. You fully expect him to pull himself up from his knees after slipping the lace from your ankle and tossing it to the floor. You expect him to come back up and slide inside of you quick and easy, but instead he’s trailing kisses and bites into your thighs. 
Blue eyes look up into yours, and he must see the need in them—that glint that tells him all you want is for him to be inside of you right now. The heady woes of foreplay just torture at this point. 
His teeth sink harder into your flesh, making you gasp. “I’ve worked hard all day; don’t I deserve a treat? A taste of the best dessert out there.” 
And how could you argue with that?
You can’t.
Not when his tongue runs from the bite mark in your skin to your wetness. Spreading you around him as he licks a stripe up your pussy. Your grip on the metal your ass is under hard and tight enough to leave marks against your palm. 
And as crude as it makes you sound, as obscene and cocky as it comes off your lips, you will never hold back from telling Luca that his talent as a chef will never outweigh how good he is with his mouth and cock. 
He’s multi-talented and it’s a blessing and a curse to your insides. 
“Oh, fuck. Luca,” your head hangs between your shoulders. Your fingers in his hair, the heel of your shoe pressed against his back—his apron long gone, leaving him in that navy blue—his fingers digging into the side of your thighs as he keeps you against his mouth. 
The mouth that’s switching between sucking your clit between his lips and rolling his tongue against it. Eating you like you’re the best dessert his tongue has ever had the pleasure of tasting. 
It never takes him long to get you there. To make your chest heave and your nerve endings light up, as if they are about to make you panic from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that is completely taking over your body. 
His fingers have created beautiful, mouth watering food, just as they’ve made you completely lose your mind. Your legs shaking around his head. Your back involuntarily bows until it hits the metal surface of the desk you’re perched on. 
It’s when he slips two fingers inside of you that you completely lose it. The sob that pulls itself from your lungs feels red-hot in your throat as your fingers grip the strands of his blonde hair as you come against his mouth. Your hips riding out your high. Rolling against his tongue in a languid way, drawing out the aftershocks of your orgasm. 
Your body still reeling and alight with that desire-train that still has it wanting more. That heavy ache between your legs that wants to be filled. To be fucked by something bigger and thicker than a finger.
Your mouth comes down on the tabasco tattoo below Luca’s wrist in a gentle kiss, one of your favorites of his, when his hand comes to cup the back of your head to pull you up to him. 
His thumb runs from your cheek to your chin, where he pushes it up, so you’re looking up at him and he’s looking down at you as he stands between your legs. Your nails run along the tattoos along his arms, up his bicep, and to the nape of his neck. A fire burning in his eyes when your fingers run between the strands back there. 
“Tell me,” he says close to your lips. He’s checking in. Seeing if you’re too spent for his cock, seeing if there's more you want. If you want to wait until you get home. If you’re ready for him now. 
“It’d be cruel to not fuck me now.” You say it in a half-tease-half-serious tone. 
“Ooh,” he murmurs against your mouth, his tongue clicking against his teeth. “I don’t want to be cruel.” You can feel his other hand move between the two of you, undoing the button of his pants and messing with the zipper until he’s pulling himself out of them, hard and leaking. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t give my girl what she so desperately needs?” 
Luca smirks when you laugh into his mouth, “the worst kind.”
With one last kiss, lick, and nip at your lower lip, he’s rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your thighs shake. Nails dig into his skull as he soaks up your oversensitivity to coat himself before going lower and slipping inside of you in one slow, fluid motion. 
Your mouth hung open at the stretch, and your breath caught in your lungs. Your foreheads resting against each other as you let your walls accommodate his girth, both of your breaths heavy. The pounding you can feel between your legs—that you’re not sure is coming from him or you or something more poetic and overwhelming like your conjoined bodies aching as one, like a heartbeat aches for a chest cavity when it’s torn from a body. 
The two of you need this. 
Need each other. 
When Luca starts moving, you know the two of you are both completely fucked. Spent and so full of desire that you know your time in this office is just the start of a long night of tangled limbs and wet mouths. 
The sounds you are making against each other's mouth are breathy and intoxicating. His tongue in your mouth swallows every mewl and moan he coaxes from your body with each stroke of his cock. 
His fingers find the back of your head again, not allowing you to even think about leaving his mouth. 
You think you see stars when his palm finds the back of your thigh and pulls your leg higher on his hips. Think you could let this man completely consume you, and you’d still never be satisfied. Never get over how good it feels to feel his hips drive deeper into you, to feel the head of his cock hit that spot inside of you that makes his name roll off your tongue like a prayer. 
“Who’s pussy is it, baby?” 
"Mm'fuck," you are not sure if he is still playing the game of you leaving him for the new chef or if his filthy mouth is attempting to completely destroy you—which is nothing new when he has you coating and tightening around his cock like this. 
When you say his name, when you whine it into his mouth like a pathetic desperation, the erotic noise that it’s met with makes you cling to him tighter. Makes you press yourself closer to him. The movement makes the outside of his pants grind against your clit. 
“So beautiful,” Luca murmurs. The octave of his voice grows lower and choppy with heavy breaths the closer he gets. Neither of you lasts much longer when his pace picks up. The grip the two of you have on each other is hard and rough, enough to tear and leave marks that you’ll later kiss with gentle lips, unlike the passion that’s coming through with the hard kisses your mouths are giving as you both come. 
“How’d I get so lucky?” He breathes into your mouth, twisting your insides even more. 
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mrs-incognito1 · 11 months
Text
3:09AM - Ghosts Lonely Deployment Masturbation.
Warnings - masturbation, nudes, praise, sexual stuff.
He’s been deployed and masturbates to a video of y’all.
Long time no see y’all, sorry I ditched 💀.
I take requests :)
———————————————————————-
“That’s right, sweetheart.” Ghost says in his signature gruff Manchester accent as he caresses Y/N’s flushed cheek. Her eyes are screwed shut as the flash from his camera shines in her eyes, creating a glistening effect on her body as her flesh is slick with sweat. Ghosts pubic bone grazes against her clit as he thrusts back into her, she moans and her eyes roll back into her skull with pleasure. “Mmm, good girl,” Ghost says as he pushes his thumb past her plump lips and into into her mouth, rubbing the pad of his thumb around her tongue, encouraging her to suck. 
“Look at the camera for me, love.” Ghost says lowly. Y/N opens her eyes as best as she can, squinting slightly from the flash above her. Lust clearly swirls within her blown out pupils, she gives the camera innocent doe eyes as she takes his cock. Ghost groans lowly as he re-watches the video. 
Ghost pumps his dick faster as he begins to feel his orgasm approaching. His hushed moans and groans appear to echo in the dull space he found, away from fellow soldiers and unfortunately away from Y/N. His head lulls back and his cranium lightly bumps against the wall he’s leaning on. His eyes shut tightly, seeing specks of white amongst the pitch black of the back of his eyelids as his hearing begins to zero in on her elicit moans that sound from the speaker of his phone. 
Ghost’s cock twitches from within his moist palm as a white halo of his spit and precum begins to form at the base of his dick. “Simon...please” Y/N whines within the recording as his fingers reach before him to rub teasingly slow circles on her clit in the video. Ghosts toes curl from within his combat boots as he pushes his skull deeper into the wall behind him, leaving somewhat of a dull ache. 
He lets out a strained whimper as his orgasm washes over him. His chest rises and falls rapidly as his breathing quickens. Spirts of hot cum ooze from his tip, angry and red with repressed arousal. Ghosts hips buck up into the air in desperation, his heart rate quickens and the grip around his phone tightens into a deathly grip, turning his knuckles white.  
He lets go of his cock, the palm of his left hand now aching and sopping with his cum. Ghosts dick twitches as he turns his attention back to the video still playing on his phone. Y/N moans lewdly from under him as he paints her torso with strings of white cum, groaning into the camera as he gives her all that he has. “Perfect girl.” Ghost says to her as he caresses her inner thigh, the camera goes blurry as he leans down to kiss her, before the video ends, leaving Ghost in silence. 
7K notes · View notes
moralesluvr · 10 months
Note
ok but being friends w benefits with miguel wouldn’t even work out because you’d fall in love—yes, you’d fall first. but he fell harder, the passionate sex didn’t help either because when when you got on top to ride him for the first time, he lost his shit mid round and threw you off him (and the helped you up of course <3)
this is nothing but facts…like the idea of being fwbs came up at work one day because you noticed he had this pent up steam he could never quite get rid of, plus he was attractive and so were you, no issue there right?
but the first time miguel touched you he was gentle with you, really caring and that shocked you because it was so contrast to his normal demeanor. something about the way he kissed your neck, the way his fingers curled within you, the way his mouth worked skillfully to work inside your tight walls, he was gentle all the way and it started to play on your heartstrings.
the first couple of hookups were solely about you. no matter how much you whined and cried for it, miguel wouldn’t have himself inside of you until he had worked you up to it, because although this was supposed to be just sloppy hookups when the both of you felt like it, he still cared about you, so he didn’t want to just rip you in half quite yet.
“gotta train you for it.” he’d tell you as his tongue lapped at your puffy clit, the same one he’d been toying with for literal hours. and every time you’d think about stopping…he’d grab a tight hold on your thighs, dragging you closer to him.
he knew he couldn’t keep doing this with you when you were completely nude on top of him, pretty cunt swallowing his length in its entirety as his hands took home on your hips. he cocked his head to the side, “okay, you’re g’na—“
you don’t even know what he was going to tell you, but your hands find his shoulders as you lift yourself off of his cock before slamming back down, repeating the motion at a slow, passionate pace, and miguel looked at you through half-lidded eyes, mouth unable to form words at how good you felt around him.
although he wanted so much more. he sunk his claws in the flesh of your hips, making you gasp at the mix of pain and pleasure. he feeds off of your reaction, cock prodding at your deepest spots as he held you steady with one hand, other hand coming to rub your sensitive clit, pussy clenching around miguel’s thick cock tightly as pesky tears soared down your cheeks.
“t-too much.” you whimper out, but his movements don’t cease, hips rutting into your cunt as he whispers, “you take it, slut.”
the degrading nickname makes your mind go blank as you fall into miguel’s chest, arms around his neck as you whispered into his ear, broken sobs accenting your words, “mig- miguel…’m g’na..”
“cum? no, not yet… shit- sweetheart, you’re gonna cum when i say to.”
you whine at that, a thick coil of pleasure bubbling in your lower abdomen as you relish in the feeling of fullness that miguel gives you, eyes fluttering closed as you feel nothing but heat all over you, skin burning with need.
miguel picks up on this and he kisses your check as he fucks into you, “h-hold it…”
it takes you a minute to realize what he wants, but it’s for you to cum with him, and you comply to his request as his thrusts become sloppier, dick twitching inside of you as you let go, his fingers rubbing your clit messily as your juices coat his chest, his own cum shooting inside of you, painting your walls a milky white.
you started to lay limp on top of him but his hands find your waist, tossing you over onto the other side of the bed. you perk up, and look at him with an inquisitive expression, “miguel?”
“sorry, just…” he whispered, “i don’t want to do this anymore.”
you frowned. “w-why? did i do something? i mean, whatever it is i can probably—“
“no.” he cut you off, eyes still boring into the wall, trying his best not to look at you. he looks down at his hands and then sighs, “i think i’m falling in love with you.”
it’s such a shock to you. you watch as he moves over to you, picking you up swiftly as you both sit back on his bed. he pulls you on top of him, chest to chest, forehead to forehead. “i’m sorry— for…um…throwing you off of me. it isn’t you, promise. i just….i don’t like…this feeling.”
“what, you don’t like the idea of having sex with your girlfriend instead of your co-worker who brings you coffee in the morning?” you giggle, and he laughs with you, a small, content laugh.
“no, no…i’m okay with that.”
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ghosts-bandwagon · 11 months
Note
141 + los vaqueros + könig with an s/o who is kind of naive and innocent being called dumb?? Just how they would react and comfort their s/o <33 thank you lovely!!!!
I love big strong men standing up for their sweet little s/o 😭
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
You gotta have some kinda death wish
I can’t imagine him getting violent off whip, his main concern would be removing you from the situation and providing comfort
However, that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t memorized who that person is, their face, their voice, their tone, their words
And that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t track them down later and give them a piece of his mind
Before he does that, his concern is you, he’s got your favorite show playing and he’s telling you it’s not worth thinking about what they said, he wishes he can take his own advice but when you’re curled up against his chest sniffling with a quivering lip, he’s imagining how satisfying it would be to run his fist through their face
Once you’ve fallen asleep, he’s tracking them down and when he finds them, in seconds he’s gripping the front of their shirt, lifting them slightly, their back bruising against the wall he’s pushing them against
“If I ever hear your voice again, I’ll crush your fuckin’ throat, am I clear?”
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
He loves your sweet, good natured spirit, it gives him such genuine joy
He’s the only one that can poke fun at you because he’s not being malicious about it, it comes from a place of love and endearment
So when he sees a recruit making fun of you for it, he kinda loses it a little bit
Just like Ghost, his main concern is removing you from that situation but at the same time he’s pissed
So he’s wedging himself between you two with a strong emphasis on the person bringing you down, his chest is all puffed up, shoulders square, and he’s got the angriest look in his eyes
“Care to repeat what you said?”
He might not be as scary or intimidating as Ghost but that doesn’t mean that his strength is just for show either
The recruit backs away almost immediately but doesn’t get very far before Johnny grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him back
“The next time I catch you even looking at them, you’ll be so fucking sorry.” The poison in his words thickening his accent in his throat and the poor idiot was tripping over his feet trying to get away
In seconds, Johnny turned to face you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed his lips to your forehead
“C’mon darlin, let’s get somethin’ sweet for my sweet somethin’.” He teased with a wink and a bump of his hips against yours
John Price:
He loves your innocence honestly, it’s so refreshing for him
Like the first drink of ice water after spending a day in the desert heat, it soothes him as much as it concerns him
He teases you about it both out of love and genuine concern, he’s not always around and it worries him how innocent and kind you are
And then while you’re all out getting drinks and wrapping up a hard day’s work, he sees you getting picked on, he sees your shoulders slump ever so slightly and he crossed the room in seconds
Honestly? He doesn’t even have to say anything, his body language, his demeanor, the vicious look in his eyes, all speak volumes to how bad this guy fucked up
He stood behind you, a hand on your shoulder and whispering loving words in your ear, you’re a little confused as you walk back to the group, looking over your shoulder, not thinking to look in front of you (luckily Johnny gets hold of you before you walk into someone)
You can’t hear what he’s saying but you get the sense it’s pretty bad considering the guy loses all color in his face and sweat starts to bead on his brow
You wave at John with a smile as he walks back to you, he gathers you in his arms and pulls you in for a kiss
An offer of home and comfort shortly followed
How could you possibly refuse?
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:
Oh honey he’s poking fun at you very often, but always out of love, he loves your naivety and will often use it to tease you
He loves seeing you get all worked up, cheeks puffed up and an embarrassed blush on your cheeks when he calls you out on it, it warms his heart as much as it makes him wanna give you big ol’ smooch
However
He’s the only one allowed to do it
So when he sees one of the cadets try to pull one over you the way he does, but in a much meaner fashion that has embarrassed tears welling in your eyes, he sees red
He’s at your side in a matter of seconds, chest pushing against the other guy as he backs him away from you, he’s so angry he doesn’t know what to say, barely manages to put a filter on his words
“Think you’re so fuckin’ funny do ya? Makin’ ‘em upset, who the fuck do ya think you are?”
John has to step in and get between the two men, knowing full well how it’ll end, he physically turns Kyle around to face you and gives him a shove in your direction
Kyle takes your hand and walks away, grumbling all the while about how he should’ve punched the fuckers lights out, but when you lean into his side as you’re walking along, the anger starts to simmer and fade
It won’t be long before he’s mumbling an apology to you for how he reacted, just give him a kiss and he’ll be back to his normal self
König:
I mean… you gotta be some kinda stupid to mess with his s/o in any capacity, like have you seen him???
He’s never far from you, always in your peripheral or at your side, touching you in some way, it’s soothing for him to be around you and he knows you feel the same
So when he hears someone snap at you and call you dumb, he bites his cheek so hard he tasted blood
Without hesitation he pulled you away and behind him as he stood up at full height, glaring daggers at the man through the holes of his hood
He doesn’t even have to say anything, the angry rise and fall of his chest, the cold fury in his eyes, the way his fists clench and unclench at his sides are all indicators enough of his rage
The man couldn’t apologize and scramble away quick enough, tripping over a chair as he tried to make a hasty escape
König was frozen in place, so god damn angry that he couldn’t move, it took your small voice quietly calling his name for him to snap out of it, he turned to face you and gently took your hand in his, his thumb stroking over your knuckles
You smiled softly at him, even if he wasn’t looking directly at you, his eyes pinned to your hand in his, you gave it a gentle squeeze and he finally looked up at you
The adoration in your eyes enough to melt the fury and bring him back to himself, “Let’s go, schatz, you said you were hungry, yes?”
“A while ago, yeah.”
“Then let’s go remedy that.”
Alejandro Vargas:
Alejandro loves with his entire being, he’s so steadfast in his love that any slight against you, is a slight against him
“What the fuck did you say cabron?”
He’s up in arms almost immediately, hackles raised, nostrils flaring, fists clenched at his side and ready to swing
“Alejo, please, it’s fine.” He knew it wasn’t fine, he knew you wanted to put in a brave face but he didn’t miss the way your eyes watered or the way your jaw tensed when the insult was hurled at you
“No, amor, let him repeat himself. See if he’s man enough to say it again.”
He’s seeing red at this point, his heart is hammering in his chest and he’s ready to knock out the bastard
When he sees that the man is wide eyed, panicked, and stuttering out apologies, trying to gain some semblance of spine as he tries to make a hasty retreat, he backs off and moves closer to you
“Más le vale, cabron.” (Loose translation: that’s what I thought)
He’s got his arm around you and he’s walking you both away from scene,
“You didn’t have to do that, Ale.”
“What are you talking about, amor, of course I did. If you’re wounded, then so am I.”
“You’re so cheesy.” You teased with a small peck to his jaw, he chuckled and rested his head on yours as you both made your way home
Rodolfo Parra:
He’s too good for this world tbh he doesn’t give that idiot a second glance as he’s walking you away from him
He’s kissing your temple and shooting a glare over his shoulder, a promise of retribution in his eyes
“Don’t listen to them, mi vida.”
He’s nothing if not reassuring and comforting, he’s holding your hand and lovingly stroking it with his thumb
As he’s giving you a hug and kissing the top of your head, he’s thinking of all the ways he can wring the new recruit’s neck tomorrow
But that won’t stop him from spoiling you a little bit to cheer you up
Even if you’re insisting that you’re well over it and have moved past it, he’s just as insistent in getting your favorite food, watching your favorite movies
3K notes · View notes
singmyaubade · 1 year
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No Longer Yours
James Potter x Female!Reader
IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)
A/N: First, I wanna say thank you to @sweetsweetjellybean for letting me be inspired by her story even though I am stupid, lol, but seriously (not kissing ass), check her series out; it is fantastic. Thank you to everyone for the kind comments, reblogs, and likes. I'm overwhelmed with love, and I'm so thankful that people actually want to read more of what I write but anyways, enjoy!
Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?
Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you all the way?" Your mother asked, squeezing your hand.
"I'll be fine," You caressed her hand, "I'm still your baby, though."
She laughed lightly, "Make sure to write always," She held your face with her hands, "Have fun; it's your last year."
You touched her hand on your cheek, "I will."
You hugged her one last time, taking in her scent. Every time you said bye to her, it was as sad as the first, without you crying and begging to stay.
"Okay," She smiled, taking her hands off your face, "Are you still sure you don't wanna wait for James here? I mean, you've done it all these years."
Little did she know, you had been ignoring James's letters, all 128 of them. He had been persistent, asking you what was wrong and begging for a reply to know you were safe.
You even received a letter from his mother, Euphemia Potter, asking how you were and everything was in Paris. You would never have it in your heart to ignore Ms. Potter, so you replied dutifully and happily.
And then you got a letter from him saying,
Dear Y/n,
Are you really going to reply to my mother and not me?
Sincerely,
Your BEST FRIEND, James Potter.
You didn't reply, scoffing at the bolded best friend. The last letter you received was last week, him telling you he couldn't wait to see you and wanted to talk as soon as he got to you.
Bullshit.
"Yeah," You gulped, "I'm just gonna meet him inside."
"Well, I'm sure he misses you," She started fixing your coat, "I mean, you have been in Paris all of this time, and I just think it would be good for you to-"
You cut her off, pecking her cheek, "Love you!" You yelled, going towards the train.
She shook her head, "Be safe!"
You smiled at her, going through the wall to the train. The feeling still felt the same, nostalgic. This was the last time boarding the train, and it felt sad.
You remembered the first time you ever boarded it. James was practically high on excitement on his first day at Hogwarts. You were scared out of your bloody mind, not wanting to leave your mum and dad.
When you had finally stopped crying and holding onto your mother's leg, James was the one to hold your hand and tell you that he would take care of you.
Maybe that was the first time you had realized James was more than a friend to you, or perhaps you were a naive child.
But either way, he was the one that you needed protecting from. You realized he hadn't been your friend since the fourth year.
But this year wasn't about James; it was about you having the best last year of Hogwarts that you could have ever had.
You boarded the train, moving through the compartments to where Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Lily usually were.
Compartment 222.
It was pretty lucky; it is where you guys first met.
You opened the compartment, "Did you guys miss me?"
They excitedly cheered, "Now tell me, Y/n, how many French boys did you end up shagging in France?" Marlene asked.
"I would say about thirty, oui oui." You joked in a French accent as they all started laughing.
You sat down next to Dorcas, giving her a side hug. You saw Lily and Mary whisper something to each other, to which Mary said, "Just say it!"
You could see Dorcas in the corner of your eye, shaking her head no aggressively. Apparently, Marlene was the only one not in the plan, continuing to look at her newsletter.
Your eyebrow raised, "Am I missing something?"
"It's really nothing," Lily nervously said.
"Okay, so what is it?" You laughed.
"Well," Lily fiddled with her fingers, "You know how you specifically requested that none of us tell James that you were replying to our letters and not purposely ignoring him."
You said, "Uhuh." Already knowing where this going.
"Well, I accidentally let it slip out over the letter you had spoken to Marlene and me." She admitted.
Your mouth agape, "Lily."
"I know, I know," She groaned, "It was a total accident."
"How do you accidentally slip something out over letter?" Marlene snorted, earning a glare from Lily, but she still looked at her newsletter.
"What did he say after?" You asked, kneading your forehead.
"Why is she ignoring me?" Lily answered, "I just said it was none of my business, nor was I involved."
The group stayed in silence, waiting for you to reply.
You sighed, thinking about how much James would bother you more now that he knew you ignored him.
"Are you mad at me?" Lily asked quietly.
"No, of course not," You smiled, looking at her, "I just don't want to talk to him and explain everything,"
"Who says you have to?" Mary asked.
You looked at her confused, "I just can't ignore him." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"And why not?" Marlene asked, now looking at you.
You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. You thought about it harder, and why wouldn't you be able to ignore James? Maybe it was hard because you have never done it before.
"So I just don't reply when he tries to talk to me?" You asked.
"Well, I don't support this, but," Lily started, "You could always just walk away when he says something to you."
"Wouldn't that be mean?" You asked.
"What did I tell you in person and in the letter?" Dorcas asked as you looked at her.
"Give him hell."
"So do it." She said.
They were right; you couldn't keep explaining to James what he did wrong; you just had to be done with him. You missed your friendship, but it took a turn years ago; you never said anything.
And you had to start not caring about him.
"So, how was your guy's summer?" You changed the subject, grinning as Marlene went on about how she perfected her Quidditch skills and would finally be the best chaser at Hogwarts.
Then Lily talked about her poetry that she started over the summer and how her sister had ripped a few of them, but she fixed them with a single swish of her wand and appreciated magic more.
Mary talked about how many soap operas she had seen and how she might even go into it after she graduates from Hogwarts.
Lastly, Dorcas talked about how this year was her year to be a seeker and how she got a whole book collection from her sister in New Zealand.
You began talking about how you tasted so many new foods and learned a bit of French, showing off your knowledge of the profound language.
You were interrupted by someone opening the compartment doors, "Hello," Remus greeted as you stood up to hug him immediately.
He caught you as you almost made him fall over by the movement, "Remmy, how much I have missed you," You said, kissing him on the cheek.
"And Y/n, how was France?" He asked, smiling.
"Quite a bore; every man was all over me; I was getting exhausted," You exhaled, sitting back in your seat.
"Well, if you ever want to get with a real man, I'm here, Y/n," Sirius said, nudging next to you as you looked disgusted.
"Did you have to bring him?" Dorcas asked Remus, rolling her eyes.
"He insisted," Remus shrugged.
"There needs to be some form of restraining order against him by all of us," Mary sighed.
"I thought his STDs were enough of a restraining order for us to keep away from him," Marlene teased.
Sirius interrupted before another insult could be made, "Ladies, this Sirius Black hate train is honestly starting to hurt," He pretended to be hurt.
"Aww, poor baby," You said in a baby voice, pinching his cheek as he swooshed your hand away.
"Now, Y/n, why are you ignoring poor Prongs?" Sirius asked as you wanted to throw him out of the train through the window.
"I thought he told you to dance around the question," Remus snorted.
Sirius disregarded, "What did my poor, stupid boy do this time?"
"I'm afraid it's none of your business, Black." You simply said.
"It is my business when my friend is sulking and bringing down my mood," He explained, "So why are you upset with him?" He asked.
Marlene abruptly laughed, "I'm sorry, but he really thought you would be the one Y/n would say something to,"
Sirius fake-laughed, "Oh McKinnon, I'll be laughing like that when you fall off of your arse on the field,"
Marlene mocked his facial expression as he did the same thing to her.
"May I please just arrive in peace without one word of James Potter? I'm begging." You reasoned.
"Well, at least I can tell him I tried and that Moony was no help." He glared at Remus.
"I told you I wasn't going to talk to her for him; it was all up to you," Remus said as Sirius went outside, and Remus waved everyone goodbye before closing the doors.
You could already tell it was going to be a long year.
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After finally sorting the first year, everyone was allowed to dine. One thing you always missed about Hogwarts was the fantastic food; it was always incredible.
You were sitting in between Remus and Dorcas when Remus abruptly got up.
"Where are you going?" You asked, mid-laugh from a joke Marlene had made about Dumbledore and McGonagall in their secret chamber.
"Don't kill me," Remus stated before leaving. You looked confused, and James took the spot in front of you. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your meal.
"Please talk to me, Y/n," James pleaded.
You continued to stay silent, not even giving him a look as you looked at Marlene. She shook her head, and you continued to eat.
"I just wanna know what I did," James begged.
When you still didn't respond, he grabbed ahold of your wrist in an attempt for you to look at him.
"Don't fucking touch me." You spat before getting up and leaving the dining hall, telling your friends you were just gonna meet them in the dorm.
You tried rushing to the common room, but James was behind you.
"Y/n!" He yelled, speed-walking after you.
You continued to ignore him, going to the common room until you were stuck with the singing lady at the door who would not give it a rest.
"You have to talk to me," James demanded while the lady continued to screech.
"I don't have to do a thing you say," You scoffed, "In fact, I would prefer if you screwed off and stopped talking to me."
You went to one of the corridors, trying to escape him, but he followed you.
"Can't you just explain to me what I could've done for you to treat me like this?" He said roughly.
You turned to him, "There is not a single, simple explanation of what you could've done; there is a book of things," You snapped, "And treat you like this? Ever since I fucking stepped foot into your life, you have continued to treat me like shit." You stepped closer, "I stuck with you despite Lily, despite what other people said, and despite what you have shown me."
He continued to stay silent, "And now that I finally stick up for myself, I've done you horribly? Bullshit." You spat, "You have continued to show me exactly why I will never ever love you again, and yeah, for a matter of fact, I did love you, but you don't deserve me and never will."
Your words shocked him, not being able to mutter a word.
"Now you have nothing to say?" You manically laughed, "The smooth-talking and fantastic golden boy that shocked the century has nothing to say? What a pathetic-"
He kissed you suddenly precipitously, his tongue entering your mouth, entangling with yours.
For a second, you were drunk on his mouth, engaging with his kiss with as much passion as he gave you. His hand pulls on your hair lightly, making you moan.
His lips went from your mouth to your neck, sucking hard, red marks into your skin, knowing it would bruise.
Then you remembered everything. You remembered James's bitter words, his voice mocking you, and the boys laughing in the locker room.
You pushed his hard chest off you, breathing hard from the whole interaction. He looked at you, breathing as hard as you; realizing what he had done, he tried to touch your hand, but you pushed him again.
Tears brimmed in your eyes, "You're such an asshole," You cried, going to the Gryffindor common room.
You rushed up the stairs, immediately going into your bed. You couldn't believe what had just happened.
A part of you wanted to be grateful, grateful that you pushed him off, and realized that he only wanted to be with you when he felt convenient.
Another part of you wanted to continue kissing him, laughing with him, hugging him. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you had never figured it would be painful.
What if you had loved James for so long that you didn't know anything but to love him?
It was stupid and pathetic.
You were tired of being stupid and pathetic, you just wanted to move on from James Potter and get away from him, and if that wasn't possible, you had to make him regret being friends with you in the first place.
So you did.
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You got up fresh and early in the morning when all of your roommates were sleeping, taking a shower immediately.
You looked in the mirror, your mascara smudged and dark red and purple hickies wearing your skin. You placed a shit-load of powder and concealer to cover up the parts you could.
You tried several spells to cover it up as best as possible, changing into your uniform.
You slipped into the most showing tights you could and wore your skirt from the fifth year that you so obviously outgrew, showing almost your ass cheeks.
You would be thankful not to get a write-up from McGonagall.
You unbuttoned two buttons off the top of your shirt, showing a tiny bit of your bra. It wasn't the most rebellious or seductive, but it could work.
The first challenge of that day was Potions; all of your friends were there, including all of the Marauders. But, thanks to Merlin was also Jacob Carrow's class, the Slytherin Captain that James hated with a burning passion.
They both could not be in the same room without spitting a hateful insult at the other. James once had a dream that you and Jacob had gone out, and he refused to talk to you for an entire day until you convinced him you would never do that.
You never considered yourself a liar.
The only problem was that Jacob was a dickhead, but so was James. You were surprised they didn't get along, maybe in another life.
You went inside Potions with your friend group, and you spotted Jacob Carrow in the back with an empty seat next to him as you told your friends you were gonna sit in the back.
You were thankful none of his friends were around him; it would be ten times more unbearable.
You sat next to him with a wide grin painted on your face, trying not to show your pain.
"Sitting next to me, Y/n?" He smirked, "I thought you were Potter's little puppy."
You tried to ignore your annoyance, "Pets tend to lean away from their owner at points; I guess that's my case." You shrugged.
"I am no Potter; I don't like having little girls follow me and do my shit for me." You could tell he was insulting you, but you stood tall.
"Good thing girls don't like to be in your presence." You snickered.
He smiled, "Love a kitty with claws," He leaned into his chair, "What do you want?"
"Do I have to want something?" You asked, popping your chest out to show your tits as he looked down at your face.
"You finally trying to make your boy toy jealous?" He asked.
You dropped the facade, "Are you gonna help me or not?"
"Control the temper, baby; I just wanna know what's in it for me." His body faced you.
"Isn't James being angry enough?" You asked.
"Nah, I can piss off Potter by just existing." He replied.
"What do you want?" You asked, half-annoyed.
"Meadows on a date with me."
You laughed, "Dorcas would never go on a date with you."
"Then no deal." He said with a fake smile.
"Ugh, fine, I'll talk to her if you just make James's life hell for a few minutes." You said.
"Okay, deal." He smiled, "Do you want me to touch you or,"
"Sure, but don't overdo it." You warned.
"I love when you flatter yourself." He said as James walked in, laughing with the Marauders.
Jacob immediately placed a hand on your thigh, slightly higher than preferred, but you continued smiling.
You started fake-laughing at Jacob's joke, which immediately caught James's attention. You looked behind you, and James's head looked like it would explode.
You looked back at Carrow, touching his shoulder and admiring how much muscle he had.
"What else do you want me to do?" He said through his teeth.
"I'll scoot closer to you, and you can put your hand on my waist." You suggested as he nodded.
You faced the front as Jacob touched your waist, tickling you with his fingers as you laughed.
"Mind keeping it down?" James scowled, "Not everyone wants to fucking hear that shit."
"How about you piss off, Potter?" Jacob mocked as he gripped your waist tighter, which pissed off James even more.
Before James could say another word, Slughorn started the class.
Throughout the class, Jacob would squeeze your thigh or tickle you, almost rising to touch your tits. Whenever he did those actions, you would giggle, earning daggers from James.
Once Slughorn instructed everyone to look inside their microscopes at the different ingredients used in Veritaserum, you took the opportunity to sit on Jacob's lap, looking in the microscope as he bounced you with his knee, causing you to laugh.
This really pissed James off, him storming up to you both. He grabbed your arm, practically flying you off of Jacob.
"Mr. Potter!" Slughorn yelled as the class watched the entire thing.
"Don't you dare fucking touch her," James said brusquely.
Jacob scoffed, "What will you do about it, Potter?" He stood, going closer to James.
You rolled your eyes due to the amount of testosterone in this conversation.
James got closer as you grabbed his hand, pushing him back, "Stop it." You said to him as he looked at you.
He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the classroom to an abandoned bathroom.
"James, let go of me!" You yelled as he pushed you inside the bathroom.
He was fuming, and you could tell which scared you. You hadn't seen him this angry since he lost a Quidditch match against the very man's lap you were on.
"You dragged me in here, so is there something you have to say?" You looked at him angrily, hands on your hips.
"Us not being friends anymore doesn't allow you to be a slut," He ridiculed.
You slapped him, "Don't you fucking dare call me a slut; I can do whatever the fuck I want,"
He wiped his mouth with a smile, "You think he gives a shit about you? He would fuck you and then dump you." He said as he moved closer, and you backed up.
"You don't know a thing," You replied nervously.
"He wouldn't even clean you up after," He continued, "He would let you rot there like a slut," Another step closer, which you took backward. You didn't understand if he purposely tried to intimidate or lecture you.
He didn't stop.
"He would tell all of his friends after," Another step, "He wouldn't dare spare you a minute after," Another step, "You would mean nothing," You were backed into the wall now, "But it's okay because you can do whatever the fuck you want."
"James." You kept eye contact with him, his eyes beaming into yours.
His mouth lowered to your ear, "But I think you want me to give a shit; you wanna see me mad." His hand snaked to your waist, "I guess you win." His body left yours, storming out of the bathroom.
Did you really win?
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A/N: Y/n: 2, James 0??? There is also an alternate chapter to this because I couldn't stop writing two plots LOL.
taglist: @feast0nmeee @queerqueenlynn @diasnohibng @somebodys-enola @kiwichixta @queerpanickingrn @strnqer @virgogaia @ddddawson @lxriearxella @losa12308 @soosheee @lokifriggason1 @kenqki @volturissideslut @lmfaograyc @melllinaa @iluvfetuszarry @lovelywebber @violetbossler @moonys0chocolate @ourloveisforthelovely @stormymind14 @abq654 @cr1stinx @4-everm-0-re @icantwaittoliveandlearn @aceofheartzzz @ashkuuuu @i-dont-know-me-either @slayingqueenchal @hero-ically @mikeikax @extrainsanity @roryctrlshift @helloitsmeeeeeee @@dittos-blog-dylanobrien @drstargirl @17luvr @eviesmith1810 @fluffycookies22 @valencia-rou @watersquirtpewpewboomm @kentucky-criedfricken @lokisbitch13 @evangelinejxy @youroutdoorbf @ok-boke @madison-rebel @sunshineangel-reads @feast0nmeee @rey26
5K notes · View notes
dokyeomini · 2 years
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started 2 paintings don't ask me how many i finished
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vivwritesfics · 5 months
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Mr All American
Just cute moments between Logan and his not American girlfriend
Godamn I want him so bad - in something non fanfic that I've written one of my main characters is called Logan and, ugh, it's such a pretty name
1.3K
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Y/N held her phone up towards Logan, giggling away as she filmed him. "Can you do your best British accent?" She asked him, phone shaking in her hands as she giggled.
He rolled his eyes, but Logan was unable to hide his smile. "What do you want me to say?" He asked, looking down at her.
If it was possible for a person to have heart eyes, Logan would have. His heart would have been beating out of his chest like a cartoon character. "What do you want me to say?" He asked as he leaned against the wall.
"Fancy a cuppa."
"Fancy a cupper?" He said in his usual American accent.
Her giggles grew into full blown laughter.
Logan let out a huff and rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. "Alright love," he began in an incredibly bad British accent. "D'you fancy a cuppa?" He asked, emphasising the A.
It was hard to see Logans face in the video, not with the way Y/N was laughing uncontrollably. Her tiktok was a goldmine of Logan videos, where most of the fans got their content.
It was rare for a video of Y/N to go viral. Her videos of Logan always blew up, and she was always seen liking the compilations fans made of them. But she never got herself in the videos, that wasn't her style.
But then she logged onto tiktok. Her phone was silent as Logan slept behind her, his arms wrapped around her and his face pressed into his neck.
They didn't spent the entire night cuddled up. As much as Logan wanted to, it was near impossible. He fell asleep holding her, but when Y/N woke up in the middle of the night Logan was almost always no longer holding her. But then she woke up and once again Logan was holding her.
She had a theory. She suspected that Logan would wake up at, like, 5am, just to wrap his arms around her and spend the next the next few hours asleep and holding her.
So, Y/N had her phone on silent as she watched Tiktok. There were a few Logan edits, too many clips of Lando Norris streaming and at least thirteen Charles Leclerc edits.
And then Y/N came across another video. It was from the live sky sports feed that played during the last grand prix, focusing in on the Williams garage before the race.
Logan was there, walking to his engineer. And Y/N was in front of him. He had his arms around her, swaying her from side to side as he spoke. It was subconscious, he didn't even realise he was doing it, but it was so cute.
At least the fans thought so. Careless Whisper by George Michael played in the background of the video as Logan put his chin on the top of her head.
Groaning, Logan slowly woke up. He kissed the back of her neck and sat up slightly, tired eyes looking at the screen over her shoulder. "What're you watching?" He asked as Y/N saved the video.
She showed him. In response, Logan kissed her shoulder and tightened his grip on her.
***
This is a couple who loved to tease each other. It could be about anything, but their main targets were spelling and pronunciation.
Well, it depended what grand prix they were at. If Logan was caught spelling 'colour' as 'color' during the Silverstone weekend, Y/N wasn't going to let it go.
But the same went for her at any of the US grand prix.
When she landed for Miami, the first thing she did was text Logan. 'God, I didn't realise I was so tired,' she texted him as she climbed into the taxi.
'Couldn't hear you, what was that?' Logan responded.
'Lo'
'You didn't realize you were so tired?'
There was no response for a good minute. He could see that she had seen the message, but she didn't reply.
And then...
'I hate you'
'I wanna marry you'
When they got dinner that night, Y/N wanted a burger, something stereotypically American, but with no tomato.
Logan sat opposite her in the restaurant, hand covering his mouth, hiding his laugh as she ordered. "Can I get a burger with..." She looked at Logan, the enthusiasm dropping from her voice. "With no tomayto."
Logan couldn't hold himself back. his sniggers turned into full blown laughs as she gently kicked him under the table. "You're adorable," he said as she glared at him.
***
Oscar had known Y/N just as long as Logan had. He loved her like an annoying little sister that he pretended he couldn't stand but actually couldn't live without her.
He, Lando and Logan stood together, talking before the first practice session. Y/N hadn't arrived yet, set to arrive on Saturday, and Oscar missed her.
Not as much as Logan missed her, though.
He hadn't stopped talking to her, managed to slide a mention of her into every conversation.
Lando hadn't had the pleasure of meeting Y/N yet. "How did you guys get together?" He asked him, and Oscar sighed. He audibly sighed and rolled his eyes.
They'd been friends for years, since Y/N's karting days. But she'd quit to focus on studying, focusing on getting into a good university and landing her dream job.
When Logan was in F3 and Y/N was completing her first year of university, he missed her. Oscar missed her too, but not as much as Logan. So, during the summer, after her first year of university, he invited her to Florida.
It was maybe the most incredible summer of her life. Not because anything in particular happened, but because she was spending time with Logan.
Y/N knew he liked her. She knew she liked him too. But Logan wasn't going to do anything about it.
Actually, he tried. He tried to do these ridiculously subtle things that she was never going to pick up on. So, she took matters into her own hands.
They were in the back of the truck she had rented out for the summer. They'd done maybe everything, from go karting to carnivals. They were underage so they couldn't really experience spring break at its best.
In the back of the truck they looked up at the stars. "This has been sick," she muttered as she laid against him. "Properly, properly sick." (Genuinely can't imagine an american person using sick to be cool, pls correct me if wrong)
"I can't believe you have to go home tomorrow," Logan replied as he wrapped his arms around her.
Y/N snuggled closer to him. It was warm, but she didn't care. Music played from her stereo, and Logan hummed along.
"I'm gonna miss you," he said as Y/N sat up and stretched her arms up.
She faced him, crossing her legs and getting comfortable in her new position. "Are you gonna miss me? Or are you gonna miss me?"
Logan didn't answer, and that told her all she needed to know. "Dude, just ask me out already," she said, emphasising the 'dude'.
Again, Logan didn't answer. His cheeks were red as he looked away from her face, looking back at the stars.
So, Y/N leaned forward and kissed him.
Once Logan finished his story, Oscar shook his head. "You forgot the most important bit," he said and continued the story. "So Rick Astley started playing on the stereo, so Y/N pulled him up from the bed of the truck and made him dance with her. It's disgustingly cute."
Logan was a grinning, blushing mess. Oscar was right, it was disgustingly cute.
Fuck, he couldn't wait for Y/N to get there.
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frogchiro · 4 months
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Hi! I love your blog! Your neighbor!Ghost AU is so good! How about neighbor!Nikolai? Imagine living next to that large Russian man who def loves to fluster the reader when he catches them in the hallway.
Oohhh my goood nonnie :((
Big big russian man who you almost always see with a cigarette handing from his smirking mouth as he greets you and looks you up and down and tells you a 'Good morning solnyshko~' in that thick russian accent and lazy drawl :((
Nikolai is very much a mystery to you. You basically never see him leave his apartment in the mornings when people usually leave for work and when he does it's either in the evening or late in the night and when that happens he's usually gone for a week or so. Sometimes weird men are going in and out of his apartment; big, mean looking men who are the epitome of shady looking but whenever you encounter them you just keep your head down and scuttle as quick as possible to your apartment without looking suspicious :(
You also saw him attend those poker nights hosted at Simon's apartment, some even hosted in his own home. He's always very open and welcoming and very loud, especially after downing a few glasses of whiskey or cheap beer.
Due to that, the fact that he's literally living next door and the walls are paper thin, whenever poker night is hosted in Nik's apartment you get to hear the loud voices of the men next door, sometimes hooting loudly, making very crude and inappropariate jokes that make your eyes widen and blush with how nasty they are ://
But, on the rare occasion, when you strain your ears well, you can hear them talking about you. Deep, low, growled manly voices of these huge men (particularly Nik and Si) talking about the pretty young thing next door, how much of a knock out you are, 'those nice soft tits and broad hips were fuckin' made for grabbing and squeezin' :((
Sometimes Nik in particular doesn't hold back and, much to the grunted displeasure of Simon, rumbles about making you into a nice, hot, younger housewife to come home to, always ready with a nice hearty meal and a wet pussy to fuck and spurt all his seed into :((
Nasty!!
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mrslankyman · 4 months
Text
Let me lick on your tattoos
Tumblr media
Midas (fortnite) x (fem) reader
->SMUT
-> reader works for Ghost agency
-> 3k words
-> not proof read yet
You walked around the Agency. One of the many agents working under Midas and the Ghost organization. Your white suit hugged you beautifully. The accents of gold matched the Agencies aesthetic. 
Midas seemed to just love gold. As it was apparent by his hands and touch. You smirk as you remember the last incident with him. He had come back to his office after a long day. He always seemed so gruff and angry. 
The second you entered his office he sat up. He never wanted to be seen slouching. He didn’t want anyone seeing him in any way except vigilant. He needed to be known as a stone cold leader. 
The curse he was given now seemed to aid him in his missions. Easily just turning enemies to gold. Though he could somewhat control his power he longed to just be able to touch someone. 
It seemed while his agents trusted him he noticed none would ever touch him. Not even a brush on the shoulder.
Except you. 
You’d come in and grab the papers he handed you without hesitation. Hands brushing on his cold golden ones. 
He would hide his blush by turning away in his chair and dismissing you. 
He hadn’t had someone touch him since his late wife. That was long ago. 
Jules was off somewhere else. He wished her well. 
She would not like the idea of her father with some random agent he hired. 
Or would she?
He always found himself wanting to make her happy. She was the last thing he had to be happy over.
Till you.
Now every mission seemed like a death sentence. He would send you out and desperately wait for your radio back to make sure you were okay. 
He would never show that side. He came off as cold and aggravated half the time. 
A hot kind of anger.
You’d annoy him on purpose. Giving him attitude or telling him off when you knew you were right in an argument. 
You headed down past his office. Assuming he was leaning over his desk with his brows furrowed, hands clasped together deep in thought. That’s how he was always there.
Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to just be in there with him.
Not getting in trouble for some mishap on a mission. 
Just in there with him. 
Maybe you had to admit you had a slight attraction to your boss. 
He was quite handsome. 
His tie, slender build, cold demeanor and that scowl he wore on his face. 
Oh and those tattoos.
How you ached to see the ones under his uniform. 
Good thing the second you walked past he radioed you to come into his office. 
You obliged and turned back around. 
Heading back to his office and opening the door without knocking. 
How he got so annoyed at that. 
“Forgot to knock.” His deep voice hit your ears.
“Oops habit.” A smirk tugged at your lips as you sat in the chair in front of his desk. Legs crossing slowly. He watched you cross your legs, his one good eye taking you all in. Oh how he wanted to just shove you against the wall and fuck the attitude out of you. He fought back those thoughts and rolled his eyes at your response. God how he just wanted to press his lips to your moody ones. 
“You gonna stare at me or tell me why you need me in here?” Such a sassy response. He bit his lip slightly and held his hands together. He leaned over the desk a little, his eye cold. “I called you in here so I can ask you about the most recent mission. You thought it was a good idea to seduce the Shadow guard?” His voice seethed of anger and what else was that? Jealousy? 
“Hmm it was a good idea, he fell for that sweet talk and I just flashed him. Nothing bad.” You shrugged and leaned back in your chair. He scowled at the idea of you doing that. 
“That is outrageous for you to be doing out on missions! You are a sophisticated agent, you should not be going around flashing your breast to random enemy agents!” He slammed his fist against the desk. The part where his hand met the wood turning to gold. His anger was really showing. 
You simply smiled at him. Not affected by his anger. It turned you on more than it put you off. You saw how his nose and eyes scrunched in anger, his jaw clenched and his face turned slightly red. 
“Seems someones a little jealous that they weren’t the ones getting flashed.” You bit your lip and slowly slid your leg that was  crossed over down. Spreading your legs open a little. His eye instantly traveled down and then back up. 
“Why would I be jealous of that.” He eyed you suspiciously. You sat up a little bit and leaned over. 
“You just give me a lot of reasons to think that.” You statted matter of factly as you unbuttoned your blazers single button. Popping it off and sliding it behind you on the chair. Your hands traveled up to your white dress shirt collar. Undoing its button and then traveling down, just enough to expose your bra. 
His gaze traveled down to your chest. He bit his lip ever so slightly. He had a good way of showing he didn’t care on the outside but on the inside.. God his body was churning. He could feel himself hardening in his jeans. He looked you in the eyes. “I’m not jealous of that Shadow agent.” He stood up from his chair. His imprint in his jeans is noticeable. He didn’t care right now. He wanted to show you that he in fact did not give two shits about someone else seeing you in ways he longed for. 
His body loomed over you. His head titled just enough to show off some of his tattoos better. You bit your lip and pulled your bottom lip down with your pointer finger. “Is that your gun or are you just happy to see me?” A teasing remark slipped through your lips. Soon enough you found his hand gripping your chin. He leaned down to your level slightly.
“I’m not happy to see you, I'm irritated by you.” He warned in a low whisper. His lips were close to your ear and it was honestly so hot. To hear his voice even lower, your eyes flicked down to his crotch. Seemed like he was enjoying being this close to you. No matter what he says.
“Oh I'm so sorry that I irritated you.” Your hot breath hit his neck. He instinctively leaned closer. Wanting no longing for you to take this further. Despite what he says. He would deny deny deny but he truly wanted you. 
“Perhaps I could.. Irritate you more.” You kissed his jawline and slid off your dress shirt. “Unclasp my bra, I know you want to.” He groaned, the small kiss on his jawline had made him increasingly hard on worse. He gave in and unclasped your bra. “I’m doing it so you’ll leave me alone.” He lied, he wanted to see you. He wanted you. Simple as that. 
If exploring your body was a mission he would be the first one to jump on board. 
“Okay yeah, sure boss.” You hummed in fake agreement as he let himself take in your naked top half. 
God he just wanted to get these tight ass jeans off and feel any part of you around his dick. He didn’t care if it was your mouth, hands, or pussy. He just wanted you. In any way you’d let him have you. 
“Fuck you.” He groaned out as he watched you jiggle your breast. 
“Oh you wanna fuck me? You really know how to get to the point huh?” You bite your lip, tugging him closer by grabbing his tie. “Admit it Midas.. You want me. Don’t lie. It’s just me and you. No one is going to judge you for giving in. Showing a little.. Affection.” Your eyes flicked down to your lips; voice laced with lust. 
“You really are the observant agent huh?” He gave in slightly running his cold golden hands across your exposed breast. You moaned slightly as the coldness of his hand touched your nipples. He felt his body react to your noises. He himself let out a low grunt.
“You better pray that no one walks in, or your ass is in trouble.” He sneered in your ear as he picked you up. The quick sweep off your feet made you giggle slightly. 
“Oh ya? My ass is in trouble? You're gonna spank it or something.” You quipped back running a hand through his hair as he shoved things off his desk to set you down. 
“Something like that.” He nodded and grabbed your knees. Spreading your legs apart and pulling you to the edge of the table. 
He put himself between your legs and pressed his hard on up to your core. 
“Oh ya, you seem very irritated by me.” You teased and he groaned in annoyance as well as pleasure. 
“Shut up or I’ll make you shut up.” He growled in your ear. 
“How are you gonna make me?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, eyes fluttering as you asked. 
“Either I'm gonna shove my dick in your mouth or I'll kiss you so hard it bruises your lips.” He breathed on your neck, teasing you with his hot and drawn out breaths. 
“I think I like both options..” You snickered and ran your left hand up the back of his neck into his hair. He shook slightly as you ran your hand through his hair. 
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long..” You leaned in closer. Kissing his neck and licking over the lines of his tattoos. Following the designs with your tongue. You had never heard a man moan so slowly as him. 
“Fuck.. you’re such a damn tease.” He breathed out as his body shook from your licks and kisses on his neck. “I love your tattoos.” You said between kisses on his neck. Leaving a few hickeys. “Oops..maybe we should take off your vest and shirt.. I’d love to see all your tattoos.” You leaned back from kissing his neck. You wanted to know what the tattoos looked like fully on him. 
His response was a low moan, his head rolling back. Your hands ran down his vest and unbuttoned it. Sliding it off him in one quick motion. He was like a rag doll. 
Moving with your motions; not protesting at all.
Then his tie was off.
You took your time unbuttoning his shirt. Tattoo after tattoo coming into view. You took in every one mentally drawing out routes for your tongue to take over the patterns. You didn’t even notice how he watched you gaze at his body. Once his shirt was finally off he stood only in his dress pants. A sight to see. The outline of his dick was almost screaming to be released from its prison. 
“Fuck.. “ He whimpered.
You bit your lip gripping his chin. He looked down at you, from the angle his head was at his eyes had that pissed off look. The one that screamed: you better watch what you do. 
“Don’t give me that look, you can say you like this. You’ve made enough noises for me to know.” You teased in such a seductive tone he almost just gave in. Dropped the demeanor of trying to keep his dignity. 
Your hands traced over his shirtless body now. Fingers tracing over every line and loop of the ink that painted his body. You wondered how much pain tolerance he had. Must not be much if he can’t stand the boner in his pants for longer than 5 minutes. 
You pushed him back gently, hopping off the desk. His eyes watched as your breast jiggled from the slight jump.
You smiled up at him and looked at his chest. You kissed his shoulder. He closed his eyes as your lips traced down to his chest. You licked over his inked skin. Following the lines of the tattooed wings. Gliding your tongue over his nipples a few times to tease him. Moans escaped his lips a few times. The way you glided your tongue over him and bent down slowly. Getting lower and lower.. Fuck you were good. 
The lines of his tattoos stopped right at the him of his dress pants. You looked up at him with a teasing smile. His response was an eye roll and a lip bite. “I won’t do it if you don’t want me too.” You said it so sweetly, going to get up from the ground. 
“Fuck, just suck it.” He demanded unbuckling his belt in annoyance. Not at you but himself. He sighed a little as his belt released some of the pressure on his dick. You shook your head with a smirk. Going back down and sliding his pants to his dress shoes. 
“Oh I think I'll have fun sucking it.” Your tone was soiled with lust. You could feel yourself growing even wetter. 
You palmed him through his boxers, those beautiful moans of his escaping his lips without hesitation this time. “Don’t fucking tease or I’m just gonna fucking shove it in your mouth.” He warned, his voice sounded almost deadly. 
“Yes sir.” Your said submissively sliding off his boxers quickly. Watching as his dick sprung up. You got to work. Taking him in your mouth. Going slow to antagonize him at first. His response? Gripping your hair and shoving himself fully in your mouth. You gagged slightly but took it. After he let go you continued at a faster pace. Taking whatever you couldn’t reach with your mouth with your hand. His moans filled the office so loud it wouldn’t surprise you if the whole agency heard. 
Before you could feel the warmth of his cum in your mouth he pulled you off. “Get on the desk. Now.” He growled in such a low demanding voice you could feel yourself getting wetter every second. You sat back up on the desk. Legs spread slightly. He kicked off his shoes then his pants. Walking up to you. Sliding off your pants so fast you almost forgot you had them off. He grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to the edge. 
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to go on any missions for a week.” He whispered in your ear as he got closer to you. Lining himself up with your entrance before sliding in. Despite his current threat of fucking you so hard, he slid in slowly. Letting you get used to the feeling of his dick in you. 
“You gonna fuck me hard or fuck me like i’m your new virgin girl friend?” You teased grabbing his hair and pulling his head back. He grunted and slammed his hips into you. You moaned, leaning your head back before getting used to the slams. He kept up the fast pace letting out his own moans and groans. Your tongue found his neck tattoos all too quickly. Tracing over the designs. Your teeth leaving sweet love bites all over. 
“You’re so fucking.. Fuck.. I’d turn anyone into gold for you.” His voice shook in your ear. He was sweating and grabbing you so hard. “Oh yeah? Would you do anything for me baby?” You asked as you leaned closer to his face. He opened his eyes and looked at you. 
“I’d do anything for you, baby.” He offered the pet name back. You laughed quietly and kissed him softly. Countering the rough pace he was going.
You two shared a sweet and soft kiss, as the feeling of his dick ramming into you was also present. He loved how soft your lips were. How you let a few moans slip out allowing his tongue to slide into your mouth. 
Your tongues danced around each other before he pulled away. Letting out a low moan: a warning of the orgasm he was about to hit. You too let out a soft moan. He slid his cold golden hand down. Circling your clit with his pointer finger, urging you to cum. With each circle you felt yourself getting closer and closer. 
“Cum with me baby, just let it out.” He groaned his request into your ear, with that you felt your self com undone. As you hit your climax a second later he hit his. The warm cum filled you to the brim, he didn’t pull out right away. He sat for a second catching his breath. He looked even hotter here. Your arms had wrapped around his shoulders, his hair sweaty and messed up, eyes droopy from finally hitting his biggest high. 
“You were so good..Maybe i’ll put down a special mission for you to just come in here and-” 
“I’d like that.” you cut him off giving him a kiss. He closed his eyes and kissed back pulling out of you after it ended. 
He walked off to get some tissues to clean you and himself up. Afterwards you stumbled to the door. He rushed over. His tie was crooked and your suit was all wrinkled. Neither of you cared. He helped you down to your room in the upper end of the agency. 
“I’ll see you later, baby.” He flashed a genuine smile before walking out. Your heart skipped a beat. He never smiled.
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bruciemilf · 1 year
Text
Having so many de aged! Jason feelings. I might just burst.
Dick and Tim theorize on how a small, happy little baby winded up in Jason's apartment. It's no secret their brother, a wall of bulk with a tender core, houses the homeless sometimes.
Maybe the baby is someone's? But if so, why was he alone? Jason isn't exactly famous for his unquestionable wisdom, but he's too caring to leave a defenceless infant by himself.
More importantly, why is this baby rolling on his tummy on a familiar brown jacket, evidently craving to be picked up?
"Can you take him? I'm not..." Tim's not good with kids; It's a running joke among them. Even If there's nothing comical about this.
Dick nods. His pride does swell when the baby giggles and coos.
"He has good taste."
" Okay, Narcissus. Let's take him home before your head pops,'' was Tim just a tiny bit jealous this little chubby cheeked thing was snuggling close to Dick, while downright glowering at him?
Maybe. A little. But babies were glorified chunks of meat, shaped just enough like a human to be considered cute. What did they know?
So they get home. It's a pleasant rarity, but they're all in one place.
All except Bruce, of course. Too busy bleeding on the streets to spend any time with them, Dick huffs,
Poor Damian is trying to jump and leap amongst them giants, struggling to take a peek at their young guest, " Grayson! I want the baby!"
" He's not a toy, Dami," they all share a silent look, clearly thinking the same thing. He got it from Bruce,
"What does it do?"
" He's a baby, Steph. He's not even aware he exists!"
" God I wish that were me,"
Duke looks at Babybird, as Dick affectionately took to calling him, with a strange, quizzical look, " He looks familiar. You said you found him at Jay's?"
" Yeah, but I'm taking him to a firestation. I just had to show B. You know he likes volunteering at daycares. Maybe he'll recognize him."
" Recognize who?"
Babybird was chewing on his own foot when the elevator doors slid open. Cass wasn't a wordsmith.
She read movements and actions as one listens to music.
Every member of her beloved family was a song of their own; Dick was motivational and calming.
Stephanie was packed with action, brimming with electrifying energy that just made you want to jump.
Tim was clean and precise with accents of pop. Duke was light and happy and silently confident. Damian was angry, and passionate and brave.
Bruce was powerful, sad, and perfectly tragic.
But when Babybird shrieked, yelled out in happiness and excitement and tried to wiggle out of Dick's arms with a sunshine beam and grabby hands?
Her father was a love song.
"Jay," The name sounds like Bruce is choking. His eyes are burning with tears, marching directly to Dick, " Jay? Jay!"
" Wh--"
"Dada!" Babybird, -- Jason? They only now noticed the white curl bouncing on top of his head, ( their inner detectives groan) " Dadadada, pap papi pap,"
They can't do anything, frozen in place, as Bruce spends the following two hours planting a garden of kisses on Jason's cheeks, full with laughter, while they read and color and build blocks.
"Uh, Bruce? I'm...I'm gonna call Zatanna."
" In a minute."
" DAD, --"
" In a minute."
It wasn't just a minute. It was an entire week.
As ridiculous as it was? They were starting to get jealous.
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