The Neuron Lounge

[2girls1braincelljourney]

🔧 System Reboot: Engaging Shared Braincell Mode 🔧

After some time apart, two chaotic minds have reunited, fusing into a single shared neuron once again. That means it’s time for a well-deserved aesthetic overhaul! Expect a mix of cyberpunk tech and tactical stealth, because that’s just how our brains decided to function.

Same nonsense, same obsession with fictional men—just with a fresh coat of neon and glitch. Stay tuned. 😏

[aransmind]

[writingdungeon]

Stardew Valley

Normal

Bachelor's finding items that you left behind

Bachelors seeing you in a swimsuit for the first time Pt1

Bachelors seeing you in a swimsuit for the first time Pt2

Bachelorettes’ reactions to birthday gifts

Bachelors reactions to birthday gifts

Busted Bottle - Sam Oneshot

Mushy Gift - Shane Oneshot

Cliff Side Talks - Shane Oneshot

Among the Sleep - Jas Oneshot

Love Letters - Elliott Oneshot

Sibling Heist - Maru, Sebastian, Sam

Sealect Secret - Selkie Elliott Oneshot

Beautiful Beast - Werewolf Haley Oneshot

Haley x Alex

Needy Sebastian

Just an Apple - Shane x Penny

Cheese, Spice, and Everything Nice

Growing Pains

MDNI

Dreams Come True - Shane oneshot

Cooking by the book - Alex x Sam / Part 2 - Alex x Sam x Sebastian

Wine Stains - Shane oneshot

Lovesick Sam

Tongue Tied - Sebastian x Farmer x Sam

Bachelors waking up after a night of drinking

Bachelors first time you turn them on

Bachelors domestic headcanons

Edge on - Sebastian x Sam

Sweaty Sweethearts - Haley x Alex

Morning Fun - Sam oneshot

Dirty Thoughts - Penny oneshot

Comfort in Chaos - Sam, Shane, and Emily

The space between us - Haley x Alex

Evelyn and Alex Story

Dear Diary / Part 2 / Part 3

Harvey

Caught on Replay / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Fanfiction

Nun Dante *THANK YOU @thebluester2020 go follow them RN*

Square one / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 /

Part 6 - Get Slimed

[boog-how]

So there's this senior citizen...

(The rest is up on my p@treon discord)

[reignpage]

Steamy Encounter

Smau: in which you accidentally walk in on roommate!jjk men showering Warnings: cursing, pervy!men, sexual language, crack, dubcon Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna

[2girls1braincelljourney]

Hey guys, it’s one of those days...

So, here’s the deal—today I’m bored, and the 2x1 joke just won’t leave my head. In the middle of my little existential crisis, I decided to try something fun and do some Zoro-inspired nails (you know, the usual mix of fandom and self-care). BUT... I totally messed up the scar. sighs dramatically Yeah, so now I’m drowning my sorrows in Garp fics and bots. 🤦‍♀️

I’ve got two new bots, and honestly, they might be a total disaster since I haven’t even tested them yet. So, you know, just a little trial and error. 😂

The first one is the classic Garp—the grumpy old GILF we all know and love. And the second? Well, he’s straight out of the oven, fresh from the Marines at 22. Cue the swooning. Who knows what will happen, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be either amazing or a mess.

Anyways, drop a prompt if you wanna see what these two can do. Don’t expect perfection though! Just the usual chaos over here. I’m dropping the pic of the left hand here since my toddler woke up from their nap (and I need to go rescue my sanity). 🤪

[2girls1braincelljourney]

🎉 2-for-1 Zoro Special! 🎉

Why settle for one Roronoa Zoro bot when you can have TWO? That’s right, folks, two grumpy swordsmen for the price of one (which is free, but still)! 🏴‍☠️⚔️

I had way too much fun creating these bots, chatting with them, and soaking in all that romantic tension—honestly, the build-up is way more fun than the end result, but I hope that if your looking for an extra spicy meal you can find it here.

Stupid Marimo Drama Edition 🎭 – Set in Wano after the two-year time skip, this Zoro bot is all about emotional tension and guarded tenderness. Perfect for exploring drama, steamy tension, or bantering with a grumpy swordsman who secretly has a soft side.

Lost-and-Found Chaos Edition ⚔️ – This Zoro bot is ready to turn your adventure into a whirlwind of naps, training, and tavern escapades. Whether it’s slow burn or straight into the action, he’s here for it.

Check them out and let me know what you think! Feedback is always welcome, and hey, no guarantees on where these bots might take the story, but that’s half the fun. 😉

[fanaticsnail]

i just wanted to say i really liked your garp fic and i was wondering if you were going to do a part 2?

Bonnie Lass (2/2)

Masterlist Here, Part 1 Here.

Word Count: 7,925

Synopsis: You finally meet with the handsome older gentleman at the other end of the den-den-mushi. He promises a night you will both not forget in a hurry - will it live up to that expectation?

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+ You have been warned, smut, p in v sex, oral afab!receiving, bonnie lass - wee bonnie - lass - bonnie gendered terms used, afab! reader, "The Garpening", flirting, supportive boss Mihawk, den-den-mushi calls, both are shameless, age gap, unprotected, creampie.

Notes: This fic was brought to you by a bottle of wine, long chats with @carrotsunshine, @since-im-already-here, @sordidmusings, and @feral-artistry, my incessant need to write for older men, and an overbearing need to know exactly where Garp's appetite leads him.

Apprehensive and Apologetic Tag list: @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun @i-love-myself-xd @the-reas0n-is-y0u

The seabreeze whipped through your hair, the gullsong serenading you as Mihawk’s vessel made to dock at the Marine port. You squint your eyes up, staring at the bleached stone walls of the large building that held the promise of good food and pleasurable company. Hanging on the words Vice-Admiral Garp last spoke to you, your body immediately felt compelled to wander forward to exit the ship and gleefully skip towards the mighty doors.

But you knew better. 

The presence of your boss, Dracule Mihawk, fell beside you: his bicep brushing with the pointed tip of your shoulders as he physically began rumbling a low growl. He despised attending meetings held by the World Government, meaning he would likely require additional resources to get him through the week you were to remain docked at harbor. 

“My lord,” you addressed him, turning your body with a curt nod to him. He hummed in response, unbreaking his eyes away from the headquarters of the world government. With a small exhale of breath, you regained your composure and began relaying his itinerary for the day to him.

“An hour after we dock, your presence is required to partake in a meeting of the warlords of the sea,” you began, elevating your clipboard and scanning the paper pages for the next item on his agenda, “Afterwards, you have a brunch with Boa Hancock and Jinbei - to what end, I was made unaware. After that, you’ll be given your assignment to rid the outer ring of the ‘unruly plague of piracy’ the World Government deems important enough for your skill - likely to be completed over four days of battle, given the numbers,” Your brows furrowed, searching the pages for further information, “Then you are to meet with your tailor, just before your new headshots are to be confirmed by den-den-mushi.”

Mihawk clenched his fists, gritting his teeth as the marines roped his ship into port. The more you spoke, the more agitated he became. Not agitated at you, never agitated with you - he despised these meetings, and hoped that bringing you along would ensure a safe and swift encounter. He always struggled with managing his agendas and itineraries with these encounters, almost electing to bring you along simply for moral support if nothing else. 

“And then?” Mihawk spat through his clenched jaw, fists balling at his sides. 

“And then,” you confirmed, placing your clipboard under your arm and smiling up at your boss, “You have been booked into an onsen for a private spa, a massage and hot stone session in the hamam, and,” you stepped further towards Mihawk, adjusting his overcoat and soothing over his shoulders to rid the material of fray, “After that, I have sent a bottle of Rosso, and asked for for the next book in that romance series you have been indulging in to be awaiting you in your personal suite.” 

Mihawk exhaled a sigh of relief, clapping a hand over your shoulder in a gesture of appreciation. You smiled up at your boss, nodding at him to affirm your notion of providing his relief. You turned away, bringing your attention back up to the top of the building, and focussed your pointed gaze at the silhouette glaring over the balcony of the highest point. 

“And while I am distracted by a good book and a bottle of wine,” Mihawk’s taunting purr cracked into your ear, “Where will you be, my dear?” You drew a sheepish grin up to your lips, a faint flush igniting your cheeks 

Mihawk leant down into your ear, his breath tingling and hot against your flesh as he uttered his warning into your ear.

“Wined and dined by an old man?” he taunted down, his smirk visibly present in his tone, “Keeping me at bay while you enjoy a few stiff drinks, before being railed by something else stiff-.”

“Lord Dracule Mihawk!” you scolded him, turning to join your ignited gaze against his playful, honey-colored orbs, “I am first and foremost your assistant.” Mihawk’s lips twitched at the corners, indicating his amusement as close to a smile as he would ever publicly display. You huffed out your breath, shaking your head while adding, “I have never met him in person, and he is yet to extend a formal invitation to join him for dinner. I will be busy all day tending to your affairs, as I always am, Sir.” His amusement never lessened, only growing on his lips with another twitch.

“And after the day of your duties?” Mihawk’s brow twitched in interest, “What then?” 

“What then,” you shoved your index finger into his chest, scraping it up to tap the tip of his nose, “Is that I will be tucked safely within my bedsheets after a long bath and a hot meal. I am here to serve you, sir. I am your assistant, and I am a damn good one.” 

“That you are, dear,” he confirmed, placing his other hand on your shoulder, holding you in place, “Which is why, after today, I have given you three days paid shore leave.” Your stunned silence only propelled him on further to add, “Buy yourself a new pretty dress, and enjoy the sights,” he leant forward with a small wink, his darkened lashes kissing against the waterline to hide his brilliant amber eyes briefly, “And then, get the old man to roar your name in the thralls of joint ecstacy. By my orders, dear. You have earnt it.”

The warm rise of warmth held against the apples of your cheeks all day, constantly repeating Mihawk’s comments in a circular swirl within your mind. From the moment your temporary office was welcomed by a pink-haired cadet, to filling in a variety of paperwork, to taking various den-den-mushi calls, to clocking out for the day - the flushed heat held firm against your cheeks. 

No whisper of a word, nor scroll of a calligraphed note, graced your temporary office with its presence. You honestly thought you had been forgotten, neglected in the knowledge that you had journeyed long beside Dracule Mihawk to be within close proximity to the man who held your undivided attention every day for the past year. 

Just as you were packing away your desk for the day, the den-den-mushi began to roar to life on your wooden countertop. The reverberation of its guttural grunts and gurgles had you satiating its tone by answering the call. 

“Lord Dracule Mihawk’s den-den-mushi. State your intentions, and make it quick-,” you growled, your professional tone wavering in agitation due to the proximity of your shift ending. 

“-Oh, sweet bonnie lass. I dinnae mean t’keep ‘ye waitin’,” the soothing drawl of Vice-Admiral Garp purred through the transponder. You huffed out an exasperated breath, your brows furrowing further against your forehead as you navigated through your swelling mind. 

“Vice-Admiral,” your warning tone cut through the air, halting all further conversation with a concluding utterance of, “My office hours have concluded for the day. Should you desire to reach Dracule Mihawk for any need, you may try again at-.” Your words were stolen from you by Garp’s tone cutting through them like a knife through hot butter.

“-Please, lass,” his plea cracked through the den-den-mushi, holding you hostage to his words, “Please dannae brush me aside. I have been in meetin’s all day, and I have been trying to claw my way to you from the wee hours of the morn, to the quiet moments of the noon.” You rotated your neck, relieving tension found within the tight bands of your muscles. 

“Vice-Admiral,” you began, interrupted once again by his rumbling brogue growling through the mouthpiece of the den-den-mushi, “I have had a long journey at sea. My only welcome being more work at the bequest of my employer. I do not have time to entertain you over the transponder today. If you desire to speak further, you can try again tomorrow, Vice-Admiral-.”

“-Garp, lass. It’s Garp, please,” his breathy voice gasped through the speaker, “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. I should’ve been down by the docks waiting - up to my knees in sea water to reign your ship in with my bare hands.” You hummed at the thought: a high and mighty Vice-Admiral of the marines lowering himself to the duties of a simple cadet at the chance of meeting his eyes with your own in person. 

You took a moment's pause, contemplating his words and mulling the thought of him demonstrating his strength and stamina to you while shepherding Mihawk’s ship into port. Did he have old navy tattoos on his biceps? Did his advanced age hinder his ability to perform such a task? Gathering he was the one who suggested such a notion, and him being a man of high honor, you gathered he would be up to such a muscle burning task. 

“Alright, Garp,” you hummed into the transponder, leaning back into the transponder and purring through your vocal challenge, “Make it up to me.” 

A shuddered groan sparked through the mouthpiece, your own giddy joy elevating in your chest and igniting your body with soft tingles. If he had this much sway over you with just a small growl of his voice, you were unsure of where the next few moments were to bring you. 

“Meet me at the docks in two hours, Bonnie Lass,” his tone was hushed enough to draw you in closer, your ears pricking to catch every syllable granted to you, “And I’ll treat you to a night you willnae forget in a hurry.” Your broad grin split your face, a small squeak of joy threatening to escape your lips with a soft hum.

“And how should you like me, Garp?” you asked him, your taunting purr calling further into the receiver end, “Should I prepare my wardrobe for an outdoor activity,” you questioned, your foot tapping lightly within the air while hooking over your knee, “Or should I just throw a coat over some lingerie and call it a night?” 

Several cracking objects bent and broke, echoing throughout the den-den-mushi transponder; something akin to wood snapping and nails tearing through mahogany. You rewarded such a sound with a melodic giggle, only producing more creaking wood noises in consequence. 

“Wear something dainty for me,” a low rumbled growl purred at you, “What you choose to wear under it is your prerogative.” 

“Aye, Sir,” you confirmed with a curt nod, “Two hours, and I’ll be all yours.” 

“All mine,” his low drawl parroted back to you, the giddy chirp of his voice endearing in your ears. At the click of the receiver, you sprung immediately into action and hurried out of the office doors. 

You bid a cheery farewell to the cadets loitering in the hallway, thanking them for arranging your office, before leaving the washed-stone building of the World Government headquarters. Your smile never left your lips, the promise of meeting the man who held your romantic affections weighing heavily on your mind and fluttering harshly within the pit of your stomach. 

While bathing, cleansing your skin and hair, and ensuring every part of you was styled and scented with the sweet and sultry persona you had presented yourself to be, your thoughts turned to pondering unspoken questions. Will he enjoy the way you present yourself? Will he behave like the perfect gentleman? How should you act: the way you shamelessly speak over the den-den-mushi, or poised like a lady? Would he like this particular color on you, or on the floor beside you? 

You shook your head to rid them of the spiraling doubts, soothing over your tight dress and hooking your coat over your forearm while exiting the suite you had organized for yourself. Clicking and locking your door behind you, your eyes briefly met with Mihawks: a book tucked under his arm and wine bottle within his grasp, twirling the cork with his screw and filling his wine glass in the window. He shot you a knowing look, mouthing the words: “make him roar.”

Your cheeks flooded with the heat of scorched oil, flash point igniting in your eyes at the final utterance of support from your boss. Shaking your head, you made your way briskly to the docks. The dimly lit lamplight illuminated your path, the click of your heels tapping lightly on the solid sandstone pathway. The flap of gulls wings shepherded your final steps atop the docks, your eyes meeting with a truly unique sight you were not expecting in the least. 

In the middle of the pier stood a highly decorated marine, silver hair backlit by the radiance of the moon and standing with his wrists clenched behind his back. His beard was neatly cropped, his eyes fixed on your approach, his lips exhaling a shaky breath he prayed you didn’t notice. As your feet carried your body closer, you halted a few feet away from him, tilting your chin and pursing your lips playfully up at him. 

“Vice-Admiral,” you purred up at him seductively, your eyes wide and innocent to contradict your expression.

“Bonnie-Lass,” he gruffly commented in response, a smile painted brilliantly on his lips. A delightful shudder flew up your spine at his undistorted voice finally meeting with you. You flit your eyes hastily over him, examining his stature inquisitively - a gesture he returned with gusto, eyes hovering over your meticulously cared and styled hair and outfit. 

“May I invite ‘ye aboard, lass?” Garp’s softness in his tone pulled you in, his arms waving behind him to gesture towards his impressive ship, “I ‘kin understand if being on a ship again after so much time on the water might no’ agree with ‘ye-.”

“-I would love to see your ship, Captain,” you remarked gleefully, stepping past his arms and following his gesture to the broadwalk, “I adore sea travel, and enjoy the rocking of the waves. I find it comforting.” 

As you stepped past, your intoxicating radiance graced Garp with the aroma of your sweet perfume. The way your presence called him immediately to follow you, his feet falling in tow with your every step, was not something he ever accounted for. 

The moment your voice picked up the receiver of the den-den-mushi, Garp’s sour mood was immediately stifled under your comforting tone. The first time he called Castle Kuraigana to relay orders to the broody warlord of the sea, he was ill-prepared to be met with a tone so honey-sweet and kind. He was immediately smitten, often calling the castle with any excuse he could muster to hear more of your sweetness pouring onto him through the speaker of his den-den-mushi. 

But now you were here in person, Garp truly had no idea how to handle you. He did not know if you would allow him the luxury of holding you against himself in a warm and welcoming embrace. He did not desire to lean down and claim your lips with a kiss, only to be met with a turn of your cheek and an utterance of, “You’re too old for me,” falling from your lips. He truly did not know what to expect from you, and the unspoken anxiety was eating at his stomach and clouding his mind. 

“Garp?” you called over to him, halting your advance onto his ship and turning to face him, “Are you going to guide me along your vessel, or am I to find my own way without you?” Garp snapped his eyes to meet with yours, his winding thoughts pausing as he bore his intense gaze into you. 

“Although I do enjoy exploring new areas, I would prefer to be ushered in with the pleasure of your company,” you continued, a coy smile springing to your features, “After all the promises you made to me of the many months we’d been speaking,” you took a step back, falling closer to his larger body, “I would prefer you to keep your word.”

“And which word might that be, lass?” his gruff whisper crooned down at you, his eyes half-lidded and lips parted in desperation, “I had promised ‘ye an array of mischief, if ‘me old mind serves correct.”

“Considering I’ll be on, I’m assuming, this ship for the next few days while Mihawk completes his assignment,” you contemplated, darting your focus between his two eyes, “Would you show me to my quarters so I may send for my belongings to arrive on the morrow?” 

“All work an’ no play, lass?'' he huffed a small laugh down at you, “An’ here I thought you’d want something more playful the first time we met in person, or perhaps something a little more-...” His thoughts trailed off, his tone almost disappointed at your formal conversation. He took it as his first rejection from you, opting to not push his expectation and desires onto you should it make you uncomfortable. 

You exhaled through your nose, your smile not leaving your lips as you shook your head at him. As Garp allowed his spiraling thoughts to plague his mind, fully trapped within his misguided notion you had rejected his flirtatious advances, he didn’t feel the grip of your fingers around his teal tie until his body was thrust forward by the strength of your forearm. 

Drawing all of the power you could muster, alongside the courage you felt you needed to complete such a feat, you claimed the lips of the decorated Vice-Admiral of the marines beneath your own. You set a bruising pace, turning your head and standing yourself up on the tips of your toes to reach more of him. Your other hand found his broad chest, dropping your coat to the floor while fisting the material of his outer coat beneath your palm and cradling him closer to yourself. 

Stepping backwards onto the ship, you ushered his hulking body aboard while unbreaking from the passionate embrace. As your knees knocked with a hard benchtop behind you, you ushered the larger man to turn, forcing his body down to sit himself down on the bench. You opened your mouth, your tongue raking against his bottom lip. 

A groan fled from his lips, Garp’s needy hands grasping at your flesh over the material of your dress. Fistfulls of the material was claimed within Garp’s hands, the hemline of the material being shimmied up your thighs to grant more of your flesh to be exposed to him. He opened his mouth, allowing you to seek out his tongue to brush against your own with expert and practiced precision. 

As the material continued to ride up your body, you hooked your knees either side of his broad thighs and straddled his waist. The split side of your dress strained beneath the grasps of Garp’s hands, stretching the material harshly before your ears pricked at the harsh ‘rip’. You squeaked in Garps mouth, drawing your lips away from his with a frown.

“You tore my dress!” you exclaimed, your accusatory reprimand mixing with a hidden smile beneath your frown, “It was my favorite!” Garp paid your chastising tone no mind, peppering your neck with several, open-mouthed kisses.

“I’ll buy ‘ye twelve more,” he gasped, nipping and sucking at the exposed flesh of your neck, “All the colors you desire,” he raked his teeth against your jaw, “All the patterns in the world.” You keened a small moan into the air when he found a sensitive piece of flesh between your throat and your pulse. 

His hand dipped between the material of your dress, raking his fingertips over your thigh to hold your hip only to pause while held in complete shock. 

“You’re ‘nae wearing anythin’ beneath this dress, bonnie lass,” he growled against your jaw, his teeth catching on the bone and clamping over your soft skin.

“You said it was my prerogative,” you gasped, turning your head to seek out his lips with your own, “Why do you think I wanted you to show me to my quarters, Sir?” You pressed a long and heavy kiss against his lips before tearing yourself away once more. “But it seemed as if you couldn't handle the uncertainty for a moment longer,” you kissed his whiskered cheek, “So I am improvising.” 

Garp immediately responded by raking his broad hands beneath your bare ass, barely covered by the material of your dress, hoisting you into the air and marching you throughout the corridors with heavy and intentional steps. You giggled at him, weaving your hands over his shoulders and massaging his scalp with your fingertips, and nuzzling down into his neck. You inhaled deeply, committing his cologne to memory while nipping and sucking on his exposed flesh close to his collar.

“It’s against protocol to leave visible marks above my uniform,” Garp growled, leaning his head back and exposing more of his skin to you, “If you litter my skin with any bites, I’ll see to ‘ye punishment personally.” In response to your rough, peppered kisses along his neck and bearded jaw, Garp slapped his hand on your right ass cheek before kneading it within his fingers and palm. 

“I am no marine, Garp,” you confessed, wrapping your lips around his pulse and sucking at the skin with fervor, “And I’d like to see you try.”

“Y’ell do as ‘yer bloody told, lass,” he growled, leaning away from your lips. As his eyes met with yours, he squeezed the flesh of your ass with a warning pinch. You squeaked in delight, Garp’s hearty laughter pleasantly echoing within your ears. 

“I’ll do as I bloody please, Garp,” you taunted in return, biting a crescent shaped mark against his pulse, soothing over the mark with your lips and tongue. You sucked at the mark, hearing a hitch in his breath as he continued to lead you towards the guest suites. 

Tearing your lips away, you hummed at the heart-shaped mark you pressed into his skin. It was a medal of lust, visible to all who see it - and see it, they will. Garp’s pulse was elevated further, his passionate advances leading him on with heavy and intentional steps. His boot heel kicked in the door to cabin quarters, your anticipation only growing as Garp lowered you onto the freshly made bed. 

Your back hit the plush mattress, your hair sprawling out on the sheets as he lowered his head against your neck. He pressed a few intentional kisses against your exposed flesh, his hands desperately raking over your chest to knead your breasts slowly and sensually. You sucked in a soft groan, your brows furrowing up as his thumb and index finger rolled over your puckered nipples. At your small gasp, he took it as encouragement to continue stimulating your breasts with his left hand, as his right rose the hemline of your dress over your hip. 

Hastily, you shot your hands forward, fumbling over the buckle of his belt to rid it of its hold on his pants. Just as quickly, Vice-Admiral Garp surged forward: claiming both of your wrists within his circular grip to halt your advance. You furrowed your brows as he pinned your wrists beside your head, your wide eyes meeting with his mischievous grin. 

“What are you-,” you began, silenced by a heavy and open-mouthed kiss pressed against your lips, claiming you beneath him with rough bites and soothing caresses. He groaned against your lips, leading your hands with his to wrap around his shoulders and weave into his hair once more within your fingertips. 

“Let me taste ‘ye first, bonnie,” he growled against your sensitive skin, You gasped a sigh of affirmation, nodding against his smiling lips, “Let me make it up to ‘ye for ‘me surliness earlier. Please let me have ‘ye like this.” 

Trailing open mouthed kisses down your neck, halting briefly at your breasts before trailing down your stomach; Vice-Admiral Monkey D. Garp made his intentions incredibly clear to you as he shimmied the line of your dress higher over your body. 

“Let me show ‘ye how much I’ve been craving the sweet call of my name from those pretty lips o’ yours,” Hooking your knees over his shoulders, he scraped his bearded chin over the sensitive inner flesh of your thighs before grazing his lips over the top of your core, “I’ll have ‘ye cryin’ and whimperin’ for me before ‘ye even see my cock.” 

He tested your sensitive flesh: flicking the tip of his tongue out to brush against your swollen clit. Immediately, your back arched up and a soft cry flew from your lips before you could stop it. Garp chuckled, looking as your pulsating core was welcoming more of his touches, giving away your arousal with a pool of your sweet essence pouring from your contracting entrance. 

“You are so beautiful, bonnie lass,” he pressed a sweet kiss against the top of your groin, his smile felt against your flesh, “And ‘ye finally all mine.” After allowing another chuckle to fall from his lips, he advanced forwards and skillfully licked a clean and expert stripe along your glistening walls. 

Vice-Admiral Garp was known for many things: His brutality in war, his aggression while training cadets, his calculated advances on the battlefield, his impossible strength, and his insatiable appetite. This appetite was now displayed to you as he hungrily and desperately lapped at your core like a man on death row, consuming his last meal while awaiting execution. The balance between savoring the flavor while horking down like a man starving had your eyes rolling back and hands fisting at his cropped hair to hold on tightly. 

“O-Oh fuck,” you cried, your eyes now tightly clamped shut as you relished in his skilled ministrations. The roll of his tongue, the mouthing of his hungry lips, had you physically quaking against his face.

“Shakin’ like a leaf, lass,” he taunted, nuzzling into your aching core, “‘ye want ‘te see what else I ‘kin do?” Your toes curled as he prodded your entrance with his tongue, his nose circling your clit and spreading your arousal throughout your core. Skillfully thrusting his tongue in and out of your desperate and delicate slit, you felt as if you were going to explode in ecstasy the moment he began vibrating his tongue with a deep, rumbling groan. 

“G-Garp. I-I don’t know if I-I can-... hnnng-... I c-can’t last m-....mmmn-... m-much longer,” you cried, your thighs clenching on his neck and shoulders to hold him in place. Your body reacted against your will, arching your back off the mattress while desperately riding his face. You felt the band winding tighter in your abdomen, each area of your body desperately shooting sparks, teetering on the edge of unravel. 

Two firm hands clapped over your thighs: one holding down your stomach and pinning you against the bed, the other kneading over your thigh. Garp pulled his face away from your needy cunt, hovering his hot breath and breathing puffs of cool air over your hole. You whimpered in desperation, wriggling against his wide-spread fingers to get any stimulus to conclude your high. 

“W-Why-,” you cried, a slap on your bare ass halting your words and having you throw your head against the pillow. 

“-Because I warned ‘ye nae t’ leave a mark on ‘me body. It’s against protocol, lass,” he chuckled, his whiskered chin scraping over your thigh as his smiling lips pressed a kiss against the outer corner of your crotch. You growled, leaning up on your elbows, staring into his eyes with a dark agitation.

“And after all those promises of making it up to me?” you spat, your nose scrunching, lips pursing and brow furrowing. Garp rose from his low position against your exposed flesh, a foreign desperation depicted in his wide eyes. 

“Were they all empty words?” you uttered. You knew, for a fact, that Vice-Admiral Garp was mad for you, but that only made you want to taunt him more, “All an act to get me to open my legs, just to leave me disappointed like the rest of them?” A stuttered gasp flew from his lips as he crawled up the bed, weaving his clothed torso through your legs to meet at eye level once again. In turn, you shimmied your body away from him, turning your face away in an attempt to hide your smile.

You knew how desperately he wanted you. The moment your lips collided with his above deck, you felt just how much he absolutely adored you. Considering he held you on the edge of ecstasy, only to pull away from you as you were about to unravel , you decided it would be more entertaining to watch him grovel for you. 

“Perhaps you were only interested in leaving a sour taste, teasing me with your pretty brogue and taunting me with your dream-like promises,” you continued, lips pouting and brows triangulating up in the center of your forehead. Garp staggered in his movement, his hands reaching out in an attempt to grasp yours, only met with you pulling away. 

“L-Lass, I didnae mean t-,” he began, halted by your melancholy sigh in an attempt to stifle a rising giggle in your chest. 

“-You said I’d beg and plead for your hands and lips to be in a few key places, if I recall correctly,” you pouted, playing into your role, “How disappointing, only having me beg and writhe beneath you to pull away at the crescendo.” 

“P-Please, lass. I’m sorry. I am a cruel, cruel man,” he confessed, claiming your left hand within his right and peppering the flesh with a flurry of kisses, “What can I do t’make it up to ‘ye, ‘me bonnie lass. Tell me,” he trailed his kisses up higher, halting at the inner flesh of your elbow, “Order me, dictate me,” he continued spreading kisses up to your shoulder, soothing over your scorching flesh, “I beg ‘ye to reconsider your withdrawal. I am ‘ye humble servant, wee bonnie.” 

Your smile broke through your pouting expression, your head snapping over to meet with his. His eyes were wide and frantic, desperate to know he had not lost you by enacting his cruel punishment. 

“Off the bed,” you ordered him, a twinkle of mischief sparking to light in your surly expression, “And strip yourself, slowly.” 

“Aye, bonnie lass,” he stumbled over his words, immediately staggering backwards and falling to the side of the bed. He began unbuttoning his overcoat and shaking it from his shoulders hurriedly, prompting a giggle to break through your practiced character. 

“I said slowly, Garp,” you purred at him, sitting up and moving your left calf along your right, “I thought you would be good at following orders, considering your title as a marine.” He halted his hasty undress, opting to silently follow your orders by unhooking the clasps of his belt and unbuttoning his pants. As the hem lay limply on his hips, he slowly popped each button of his shirt and raked his index finger along his torso to separate the fabric. 

Shamelessly following each movement with a bite of your bottom lip, you reclined on your side and encouraged him to continue with your sultry and beckoning eyes. His heart fluttered, feeling so small beneath your predatory gaze. After speaking with you for so long over den-den-mushi, and desperately seeking your approval with his choice words, he was certain he knew what to expect when he met with you.

He had never been so pleased to be proven wrong in his life. 

As he released the final button of his shirt, you clicked your tongue at him and pointed your index finger at the teal sash decorating his neck.

“The tie stays on,” you spoke through narrowed eyes, testing his resolve to follow your orders. He huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head as he peeled his shirt away from his skin - leaving the teal tie around his neck. He shimmied off the fabric before hooking his thumbs through his belt hoops, slowly pulling the material over his hips and down his muscular thighs. 

Hungrily and awestruck, you followed each taut flex of his impressive muscles: his forearms, his biceps, his shoulders, his pectorals, his abs, his thighs - nothing was hidden from your eyes as he continued to slowly undress himself before you. His head-shot from the World Government truly did not do him justice - a man dignified and refined, muscular and carved from slated marble. He was a sight to behold, and was anxious to receive your approval at each passing moment. 

Stepping away from his pants, Vice-Admiral Garp was standing before you in naught but his teal tie and tight undershorts. The growing pole to tent the center of his trousers had your mouth watering beneath your stoic and sultry expression: keeping your hand close to your chest to not reveal your desperation for him. 

“Does this please you, lass?” he whispered below his breath, the corner of his mouth ticking with his melancholy expression, “An old man far from his prime, humbling himself before the delicate flower of Kuraigana. Is this all ‘ye dreamed of?” His small sigh caught your ear, prompting your brows to furrow in deep thought. His eyes were focussed on the floor, unable and unwilling to tear them away to meet with your exploratory eyes. 

Vice-Admiral Garp was self conscious. He found himself unworthy to be at the receiving end of your interest, a fact that had become clearer and clearer the more the night flew on. 

“Take off your undershorts, Garp,” you ordered him, slowly rising to your knees on the mattress, “And lie back on the bed.” You witnessed as his cock twitched beneath his pants, a growl purring in the chasms of his chest as he hooked his thumbs around the hemline of his undergarments. 

Slowly shimmying down the elastic, his impressive cock sprang above the surface, slapping his abdomen with his shining mushroom tip on his belly. The slit was dripping with precum, the veins throbbing with anticipation while he bashfully lay his back down on the mattress. His cock stood to attention, knob throbbing while his shaft was hoisted in the air. He was neatly cropped, every follicle of his happy trail meticulously maintained down his stomach. 

Without much warning, you eagerly straddled his waist with a giggle of joy. A gasp of shock fled from his lips, followed by a huff of laughter as you eagerly threw your dress off your body and looked down at his reclined form. There was a hidden uncertainty within his eyes, a hopeful sheen sucking you within his orbs each moment you gazed into them.

“Now what, lass?” he questioned you, eyes searching yours as he reached up his palm to cradle your cheek, “You’ve got me pinned and helpless beneath your thighs. Does this please you? D-Do I-...” his voice trailed off, remaining uncertain as his eyes sought out deeper, unspoken desires within your own, “...-Do I please you?” 

You sighed, flipping your hair over your shoulder and looking down at him through half-hooded eyelashes. Your soft smile drew up over your features, a secret and hidden kiss’ shadow rising within the right-hand corner of your mouth - a place that immediately held Garp rendered defeated under your beautiful features. 

What began as mild lust had blossomed and flourished into something more sacred. Garp was indeed smitten with you, desperately wanting to both treat and tease you, but now that he had you - he was clawing at being a worthy partner for you to couple with. He knew you were beautiful, he knew you were intelligent, he knew you were wise - but he did not expect, upon meeting you in person, to be rendered helpless upon seeking your approval. 

Wordlessly, you sought out the tip of his glistening cock with your needy hole, slowly circling the knob without welcoming him fully into your walls. He gasped at the contact, surging forward to grasp at your thighs over his waist. Your arousal coated his tip, painting it with your own lust and propelling his sinful desires on further. 

“You’ll please me by letting me ride your thick cock until you can’t take it anymore,” you purred down at him, angling your lips to almost brush against his own, “You’ll please me by splitting me open and filling me up with every inch you’re willing to give me. You’ll please me-...” you leaned your torso down, your breasts brushing with his pectorals, nipples circling his own in a sultry dance as you hovered over his cock, “...-By allowing me the luxury of cumming on your cock, my pussy milking you of your thick load and splashing back onto your cock once it meets with my cervix.” 

Garp held his breath, furrowing his brows as he felt you inch down to claim his shined knob within your entrance. He focussed on the hitch of your breath, the swell of your heart rate, and the small whimper in your voice. He focussed on the twitch of your closed eyes and your parted lips as you sank further along his shaft. 

Although his appetite was insatiable, he would never rush you in adjusting to his girth and length. He relished in every stretch your walls made to accommodate his impressive size, focussing on how your brows knit together and breath hitched at every small move. He tried to hold back the twitch of his desperate cock, trying not to lose himself within the feeling of your cunt fluttering to adjust for his cock to fully sheathe itself within you. 

As the hilt of your crotch met with his, his cock disappearing within your fluttering cunt up to the brim, he finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief at being sheathed completely within you. Grinding yourself down, you suppress a strangled moan within your throat as you feel your walls adjust and accommodate to his impressive size. Testing a small movement, you inched yourself upwards and slunk down against his shaft - a sigh mirrored within Garp’s lips as he restrained himself from fucking up into you. 

You began to slowly rake your walls up, before slamming your body back down against his groin: mutual cries of bliss falling from each other's lips as you focussed on riding his cock. You hastily drew up speed, setting a rhythm that had his hips rolling beneath your own. Your mewling cries of his name were rising into the air each time you felt his knob touch the edge of your cervix. 

His hands gripped firmly against your thighs, ushering you to bob, grind and gyrate against his cock to chase your own ecstasy. Your clit brushed with the small tuft of hair remaining at the base of his shaft, stimulating the small bud each time you drew yourself down to his crotch. 

He stared up in disbelief at the way your body responded to him. He was mesmerized at each whimper of your voice, each flutter of your eyelashes, and each slam of your aching cunt welcoming his throbbing cock within his walls. He couldn’t get enough: you were intoxicating and addictive with each writhe against him. 

Your rhythm began to get more stuttered, your body responding to the elevation of your ecstasy. Your walls began to thump against him, wringing his cock and clamping down on it as your approaching orgasm began to shudder against his shaft. His breath hitched, his own brow furrowing as he felt every pulse within your walls ushering him into his own bliss. 

As you continued to grind against him, Garp struggled to hold back against his own desires of flipping you over and stapling his hips against your own by railing your body into the plush mattress below. He did not want to destroy his good standing with you by completing such a lewd act, reacting in penance from drawing himself away from cumming into his awaiting lips, and simply chose to take each moment you gave him as a gift. 

The flutter of your cunt began squeezing his shaft, the sensitive spongy underside of your clit meeting with his knob propelling you further in the release of your incoming ecstasy. Your whimpers and cries of his name falling freely from your lips had both Garp’s cock and heart swell in pride that his body was granting you such bliss.

“G-Garp, I-I’m gonna-...” you called, clenching your eyes shut as you continued to gyrate and grind down against his cock. 

Garp’s iron will snapped, immediately hooking his arms around your waist and tackling you against the bedsheets. He caged you beneath him, plowing greedily into your shuddering walls with an eager snap of his hips. You shrieked in shock, your ecstasy being ushered in further by Garp stampeding you both towards your ends with a heavier and more controlled rhythm.

Each heavy rake of his cock within your cunt had his balls slapping against your puckered ass. At this new angle, you cried out, desperately clawing at his back and shoulders to draw him in closer to you. 

He hoisted your knee over his hip, latching his lips onto your neck and sucking a deep, angry, mark into your porcelain flesh. You cried for him, every ounce of your flesh ignited by the sparks of untamed ecstasy as you thrust your hips upwards to meet with every sharp snap of his rhythmic hips. 

“Cum for me,” he purred at you in a gruff growl, “Cry out my name.” His rhythm began to weigh heavier with each deep thrust, heavier and heavier with every staggered slam of his hips. “I want the entire base t’ know I’m makin’ ‘ye feel good. Want ‘ye fookin’ boss t’ know you’re becoming unraveled by my thick cock, ‘me bonnie lass.” 

At the mention of your boss: Mihawk’s verbal warning of having Garp cry your name in bliss echoed back to you. In a final ditch effort of having Garp cry out for you, you latched your lips onto the mark you created a few hours prior and teased the flesh with your teeth and tongue. Garp knit his brows, growling through yelping barks below his breath at how truly good you made him feel. 

“O-Ohh f-fuck, Garp. I-I’m-... ahh-... I’m c-cumming,,” you called, clawing and gnawing at his flesh like a lifeline anchoring you to the earth. He sucked in a breath feeling the twitch of his end spurting the first few moments of his orgasm within your walls. As much as he desired to pull away from your eager cunt to not risk his seed finding purchase within your walls - he simply could not help himself. He immediately began plowing harsher into you, his cock spurting his cum within you like a valve turning to release hisses of pent-up pressure. 

His voice became elevated with each staggered thrust, each subtle whimpered cry of his name coinciding with you grinding and writhing beneath him to chase your mutual highs. At one final bite of his flesh, and a particularly harsh snap of his hips, the two of you began experiencing the first realms of joint ecstasy.

“F-Fuck bonnie lass, I cannae pull out,” he roared your name, gyrating and pumping his seed deep within your cunt: splashing back spurts of his load within your needy, throbbing cunt. 

“D-Don’t you dare t-try,” you scolded him, eyes rolling back in bliss as he chased his orgasm within you. The walls of your pussy began contracting against his thick cock, shepherding him into releasing hot ropes of sticky cum within your eager walls. For every thump of your walls, you were granted by a spurt of his release within them - milking him of every fiber of his essence. 

As you both rode through your highs, the hums of your voices and gasps of your breath caught up with you. He snapped his hips forward, remaining sheathed within your glistening walls, as he raked his fingers through your hair. Your strands stuck against your forehead, your pupils blown with lust as you gulped back another cry of ecstasy as his cock throbbed within you. You sobbed, hiding your forehead against his chest as you attempted to come down from your high. 

Taking a moment to each gulp in oxygen to fill your lungs, Garp rolled from caging you beneath him, unsheathing his cock from within your pussy slowly. He looked down at your entrance, watching as it clenched to chase his retreat from your body with an eagerness he was yet to witness in some time. You were a masterpiece, a body unraveled and glistening within the realms of the afterglow in unbridled lust. He adored you. 

“You alrigh’, lass?” he asked you quietly, his lips grazing your temple as your lungs refilled with oxygen. You smiled up at him, eyes closing while your body chased his lips to feel his wired whiskers against your skin longer. You hummed at him, rolling over to your side and grazing his chest with your open hands. 

“Never better, Garp,” you cooed back at him, feeling your energy supply depleting the longer you remained comfortably within his arms. He cradled you against himself, feeling the soft song of slumber calling to him each moment you remained nestled against him. 

“And what of t’morrow?” Garp asked, his brow cocking up at the corner while he fought to keep his eyes open, “‘Ye got duties to attend, I’m sure.” 

“Dracule Mihawk has allowed me the luxury of a few days' shore leave,” you confessed, sleepily, “I don’t think I’ll be returning to my station any time soon, Vice-Admiral-.”

“-Garp, bonnie lass. It’s Garp, remember?” he cooed down at you, shimmying his body down to locate the plush duvet and nestling you both beneath it, “When you’re with me, it’s always Garp.”

“Alright, Garp,” you purred up at him, eyes hooded and feeling serenaded by sleep, “Will you stay by me tonight? Show me you still want me in the morning?” He huffed out a breath of disbelief, cradling you further against his chest and pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead.

“Rest assured, Bonnie Lass,” the rumbling drawl of his voice cooed down at you, his fingers brushing over your hair and smoothing over each strand, “I will still want you every morning.” 

Both of your warm smiles clung to your cheeks as you fell into the arms of sleep, feeling calm and at peace while clinging to one another. You had never been so pleased to be relieved of duty, your legs and body remaining blissfully numb by being plowed into by Garp’s throbbing cock. 

An apology for his rough actions came in the form of caging your hips against his face, his arms weaving over your thighs, and him welcoming you to ride his head until your voice grew hoarse from the sheer number of times he had you cry his name on his eager tongue. Enthusiastically lapping at your glistening cunt with the fervor of a man being granted the feast of a lifetime, he refused to part his lips from your glistening walls until you violently shook with a scream of his name.

When riding down your high and sobbing through your ecstasy, you looked down at his eager eyes: twinkling with mischief. Upon meeting his gaze, he kissed your thigh and cooed up at you: “Just one more? One last time before I let you go, ‘me wee bonnie lass?” for the fifth time that morning. After all, his appetite truly was insatiable.

[fanaticsnail]

big sister snail 🫰🏻

plz a garp fluff

(mad daddy issues mmkkm)

Bonnie Lass

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,659

Summary: As the assistant to one of the warlords of the seas, it is your task to man the small den-den-mushi earpiece assigned to Mihawk: managing his assignments, scribing the notes of importance. As the receiver drones on, you answer the call and are greeted to the familiar brogue of the Vice-Admiral you had not yet met face to face. 

Themes: age gap, flirtation, “The Garpening”, Vice-Admiral!Garp x Assistant!Reader, mutual pining, faceless swooning, den-den-mushi calls, suggestive dialogue (not heavily NSFW but implied themes), f!reader, gendered terms used. 

Notes: Garp do be looking mighty fine at the faceless end of the transponder ear piece… I blame @sordidmusings and @carrotsunshine for this. Came out a lot more flirty than intended, but then again - it's Garp.

The vocal hum of the small shell of the den-den mushi had your head lulling on your shoulders. A sigh depleting from your chest alongside an eye roll had you place the firm shell against the shell of your ear, hooking over the curvature and securing it against your lobe. 

Being Lord Dracule Mihawk’s personal assistant was no easy feat; securing such a luxury to work for a man of high reputation challenged you in all the ways that mattered. His intimidating aura, alongside his world renown title as “World’s Greatest Swordsman,” had challengers from all four points of the seas calling his receiver at all hours of the day. 

Setting down your morning coffee against your work station, you huffed out an exasperated breath, and pressed down against the shell of the receiver to begin a verbal dialogue with the recipient at the other end. 

"Lord Dracule Mihawk residence, state your name and purpose," you drawled monotonously with a practiced disdain, fishing out your notepad and pen to begin to notarize any key points to the call. A small pause occurred before the familiar rumble of a partially hushed tone drew a shudder through your spine. 

"...Oh, Bonnie Lass. I wassnae prepared to hear such a sweet melody from a pretty lady so early in the morn,” the voice hushed against your earpiece, your heart swelling at each syllable he graced you with. You shook your head to stifle your nerves, a smile threatening to break over your lips.

"Good morning to you too, Vice Admiral,” you purred professionally into the earpiece, “Shall I fetch Lord Mihawk for you?" The soft crackle of distortion hid the verbal growl in refutation from him. 

Of all of the calls you had been privy to receive, the ones you looked forward to the most belonged to the rumbly drawl of the marine vice-admiral. The initial meeting of his gruff aggression to your playful vocal tone immediately held him smitten against his desk, leaning his chin on the heel of his palm and a dopey smile gracing over his features. 

He had not felt this way for an individual in some time, never allowing himself to give in to entertaining the thought of joining himself so affectionately with a woman, for anything more than a brief fling. As his gruffness met the honey-sweetness of your voice, all words of caution were flung to the wind as he drank in each word you purred at him.

You were much the same in a similar sense. Your duties performing as Mihawk’s assistant held every waking moment of your attention, constantly chasing the broody warlord around with itineraries, notes and alerts, and jobs he’d received at the call of the marine headquarters. 

"Allow me the luxury of hearing your voice a little longer, Lass,” his voice held a small promise of your regular flirtation engaging with one another, hitching at the ‘L’ in ‘Lass’, “You know what your pretty melody does to a man like me."

Rotating your head on your neck, you stifled the rising tension of your fluttered heartbeat. You could only admit to yourself what the brutish whispered tone of the Vice-Admiral roused in you, refusing to speak it to light with a verbal confirmation. A small smirk rose to your features, the hardened pelt of your heartbeat elevating in your chest.

"Vice-Admiral, you're making me blush,” your coy purr called to him, serenading him with your flirtatious tone. Although you could not see him, his rumbled cocky laugher held you hostage to his comments.

"That's not all I could make you do, Lass,” his voice rumbled against your earpiece, his drawl vibrating against your eardrum, causing your blush to rise and follicles to stand to attention to his every command. 

Although you had never met face to face, you could tangibly feel his smile within the mouthpiece of the den-den-mushi. He had informed you prior that he was more than twice your age, not a factor you had pushing aside your flirtatious words and halting them completely. Although your curiosity held you bound to his words, you refused to look up imagery of him in fear of shattering the illusion you had crafted for yourselves.

Garp was sure he had pushed a boundary with that final statement, anxiety pulsing at his neck with an intense rapidity. Panicked, his eyes floated to his desk and catching his attention over the novel he had been reading over the past few nights.

"Did you read that chapter we were talking about yesterday?" he’d asked you suddenly with the craving the answer you held behind your smile. You looked to the leather bound book beside your notepad; it’s words sprawled over your desk beneath its open pages.

"I did, Vice-Admiral. It was beautiful,” you recounted the playful and romantic words written on their page, “I especially enjoyed the part where they met face to face for the first time-." Your playful and longing tone was met with a small, dry laugh from the vice-admiral.

"-I know what you're hinting at, Wee Bonnie,” his voice cut you from your thoughts, his brogue causing a subtle swoon within your chest, “Your boss won't let you come on his next task, so we're not going to meet for a while yet.” 

Almost allowing a small whine to depart from your lips at such a confirmation, you instead hardened your resolve and played into his wild flirtations. 

“Vice-Admiral-,” you began, halting by his next rumbled words alone.

“-Garp, lass,” his vocal reprimand called to you, “Call me Garp, wee Bonnie. We’ve spoken so much of late, you have no need for such titles anymore.” Your heart swelled, a warm flush rising to your cheeks at such an utterance from a powerful figure. 

“Garp,” your voice called to him, his body curling into the receiver further for every drawn out syllable you poured onto him, “I will be ushered into whichever seas you call my lord to be. Should you desire to meet face to face-.”

“-I shall forever desire to meet such a beautiful woman. I crave hearing your laugh in person,” he halted the end to your declaration with a confirmation of his own. Your heart fluttered at the rising anxiety depicted at the mouthpiece end of your receiver. After a few moments pause, your smile had your words beaming through the transponder.

“Was there a particular reason you called the Dracule residence, Garp?” Your voice ticked at the end, hoping to stifle any personal favoritism from the vice-admiral at the other end of the call. No such stiflement occurred, the vice-admiral’s voice crackling through the static of the den-den-mushi to affirm you instead.

“Just wanted to hear your voice, Bonnie Lass,” he confessed, his breathy voice dancing within the same frequency of your heartbeat. Your giggle rose a swell within the vice-admiral, his longing for you physically depicted within his risen hue of a pink flush. 

“You have heard me, Garp. Does this mean I will not hear from you until you call for my employer again?” You quipped, your smile dancing on your teeth with its humorous jest. 

“If I had my way,” his rumble broke you from your taunting, hanging on his every syllable with glazed orbs and dancing heart elevation, “I’d have you on my lap and whispering your praises into my ear each time the sun rose and set each day.” You drew your dominant hand up, clasping over your lips to halt a girlish squeal from departing from your lips.Taking several moments to halt your rapid heartbeat and youthful anticipation, you drew the mouthpiece into your lips to allow every vocal utterance to flee from your lips. 

“Vice-Admiral,” you gasped breathily, flicking your tongue out to dampen your lips as you hardened your resolve, “I do not think you could handle such an attentive partner fawning over you on your lap.” You heard his breath suck in through his mouth, halting as it hit his chest.

“Garp,” He corrected you in a breathy whisper, “Call me Garp.” 

“Garp,” your voice purred as you continued your train of thought, sitting back against your office chair and kicking your right foot as it hooked over your left knee, “You would not know where to place your hands, should you ever find my company upon your lap.” Although the crackle of distortion drew against the earpiece of the den-den-mushi, it did very little to withdraw the growl from the other end of the call.

“I could think of several places I would place my hands, Bonnie Lass,” he uttered in a low rumble allowing great distance to fall between each syllable, “You’d be begging and crying for my attention to remain in a certain few key places.” 

At that final confirmation, you allowed a girlish giggle to flee from your chest sooner than you could contain it. Each small, melodic twinkle of your laugh held Garp captive beneath the whisper of your breath. 

“Are you flirting with me, Vice-Admiral?” Your playful voice called to him, his den-den-mushi staring at him with a vacant stare. He held onto your every word, huddling closer to the mouth-piece of the transponder.

“I will always flirt with you, me wee Bonnie,” he confessed, swiping his hand over his hair to rid him of his tingling nerves, “Why do you think I call on Lord Dracule Mihawk so much?” You allowed several moments to contemplate his question.

“Because his swordsmanship outnumbers you and the marines one thousand to one?” You offered him weakly, your resolve as half-hearted as your soul cried it to be.

“Because I desire to hear your voice,” he confessed. Your breath hitched within your throat, your heart hanging upon each word he uttered, “You are the reason I summon him each morning, and call on this line before I sign off for the day. Just to hear the small rise in your voice, Bonnie Lass,” he continued. You could almost tangibly feel the rake of his index finger against your jaw to usher you into himself. You could feel his presence, the cologne he adorned upon his neck, jaw and wrists through each utterance. 

“Mihawk has certain skills we desire to abuse, yes. But, you,” He continued, the rasp turning breathy and slow in each drawl, “Oh, you. You are the reason I am at the end of my transponder in the wee hours of the morn, holding myself hostage to my desk at a small utterance of your voice.” His confession held you stationary against your desk, your breath refusing to dance in order to release any tone from your lips. 

“You are why I call on Mihawk so much, lass,” He continued, “Your voice makes me feel young- makes me want to be a better man.” You hung on his words like a lifeline coaxing you to shore. You slunk down onto your desk, cradling your lips within your palm to stifle your breath. 

“What I would do to such an innocent flower of Kuraigana,” his raspy rumble teetered off to verbalize his rising stutter, “I’d have you thrust against my desk, screaming my name like a prayer as I sink my teeth and lips against your sensitive flesh. The pleasure I could grant you with my lips alone would have you bound to my bedchambers with desire and longing-.”

“-Is that Garp?” The voice of Dracule Mihawk broke you away from your flush, shaking your head at each flirtatious thought pouring from his lips, “Another assignment so early?” 

“My lord,” you bowed to him, your voice breaking the vice-admiral away from his utterances of flirtatious promise, “The Vice-Admiral was only calling to offer you praise in completing your prior assignment-.”

“-That’s not all I was praising, me wee Bonnie Lass-,” Garp's voice broke you away from your concentration in relaying your verbal commands to the lord of Kuraigana.

“Is there another assignment, or shall we halt the call?” Mihawk’s verbal warning ticked at the corner of his mouth as it rose into a knowing smirk. Your startled expression allerted all Mihawk needed to know of your call, the dance of his knowing smirk threatening to break through as he claimed the shell-end of the den-den-mushi receiver from your earpiece. 

“Vice-Admiral,” Mihawk’s voice called over the mouthpiece, “The office hours are from the time the sun rises in the east blue, until its hues dance in the evening over the grand line.” Your voice hitched, the silence unbearable in the office alone with your employer. You caught the hitch of his breath, the swell in his pupils and the growl in his throat as he handed back the receiver into your hands.

“Make it quick,” He uttered, placing the shell once more within your ear, “We leave Kuraigana within the hour.” Mihawk walked away, the pointed tip of Yoru dancing at his ankles with each swell swing. You slowly drew the mouthpiece up to your lips, hanging on the silence depicted within the static. 

“Vice-Admiral?” You called to him, your voice timid and direct. Your question was met with silence on the other end, no swell of a voice, nor sneer of a whisper depicted within the earpiece of the transponder. As you drew a reluctant hand up to end the call, the raspy voice you craved swelled within the earpiece.

“I’m still here, Bonnie Lass,” it called to you. You stifled the need to stifle the flames of joy within your chest at the swell of his voice, your heart beating with an unnatural rapidity. 

“I am grateful, Vice-Admiral,” you confessed, your withheld breath leaving  you as the flutter of Mihawk’s tailcoat disappeared from view. After several moments had departed in silence, Garp’s voice called once more to you.

“It seems we are to meet face-to-face afterall,” his chuckle did very little to stifle his anxiety within, “Mihawk has granted you passage to stay within the halls of my vessel while he rids the land of the plague of piracy.” Your heartbeat elevated, swooning at the mere thought of putting a face to the name of such a powerful man. Although you spoke daily, your anxiety played a heavy part in meeting such a decorated man within the marines. 

Sucking in a heavy breath and hardening your resolve, you turned your attention back to the parchment you began to notetake upon. 

“In what capacity will we be meeting, sir?” You asked him, your voice stifling your anxiety with succession. You heard Garp suck in an anxious breath of his own, halting his racing thoughts with free words than his jumbled thoughts would allow. 

“I would have you wined and dined,” he confessed, his voice low and laden with grandiose splendor, “And while your boss concludes with the heavier business, I will look forward to spoiling you with the splendor my toils have offered me.” Your heart fluttered at the notion, before the imagery began to plague you of what ‘after’ may look like at the conclusion of your dalliance. Before you had the time to speak of such woes, your words were stolen from you at the utterances of the vice-admiral you had come to adore. 

“It is now that I may offer my apologies to you, love,”  He uttered into the mouthpiece, “I desired to not shatter the illusion we had created for each other. Believe me, Bonnie Lass. I had intended to leave you faceless in my dreams. But-,” his voice drew off into a small raspy hum, the growl of his voice perking up at the end of his last utterance, “-I had found a den-den-mushi graph of your likeness,” your anxiety began to thicken in it’s stupor, only halting at the further compliments of the man behind the call, “And I had found myself hypnotized beneath your beauty.” 

Unsure of how to feel at this utterance, you allowed a small, apprehensive giggle to depart from your lips. Sensing your uneasiness, the den-den-mushi shell on your desk began to vibrate and drone on in its print of a piece of parchment paper. 

“That is me in all my rapidly aging glory, lass. The last shot I had received from the militia,” Garp’s voice confessed. You eagerly reached for the parchment, flipping the page over to reveal his face to you. 

He was handsome. His eyes relayed a kindness and ferocity you had not encountered in your experience prior. His silvered hair, his wispy accents atop his jaw. Everything held you captive and plagued by every thought you had sent his way in the near year you had spoken with him.

After taking a moment to collect yourself, your smile returned to your lips.

“I am very much looking forward to meeting you in person, vice-admiral,” you confessed breathily, staring into the eyes of the print within your fingertips, “Wined and dined? Is that all the simplicity you offer for me, Vice-Admiral?” 

The rumbling chuckle held your attention, the peaks of your hair follicles lying at the back of your neck alerting you to danger did naught but encourage you. 

“Bonnie lass,” his rumbled voice purred into the earpiece of the receiver causing a shudder to run through your from coccyx to crown, “I would wine and dine you to your heart's content; pleasing you with many a ministration with my hands, mouth and tongue until no thoughts occur within that pretty head of yours except how good I make you feel.”

Your soul screamed, your heart heavy with the burden of desire at each utterance of his fighting words. Sucking in a sharp breath, you cradled the earpiece into your mouth as you quietly uttered to him your desiring praises.

“After all this time, you think so little of me to sit there and take what I’m given?” You challenged him, your voice purring at each of your affirmations, “Vice-Admiral,” you drew your tone down. Shepherding the earpiece against your lips to quiet your tone further, “You may wine and dine me should you truly desire it,” you rotated your neck on your shoulders, ridding it from a click located within, “But only I would make you dance between the borders of ‘so good’ and ‘too much’ before I have your writhing between my legs in a dance of absolute bliss.”

Before Garp could offer a retort to your challenge, you continued your taunt in a low tone within the mouth piece. 

“Your lips will tremble, your eyes will flutter in their daze,” you continued, "I’ll have you in every sense of the word before you’ll fall to your knees before me, offering me praise and adoration while begging for me to continue.” A rumbled shudder rolled over his spine and shoulders as he leaned into the call, focussing on your every word. 

“A-And the fact that I’m a little older?” His voice called to you, begging for you to enable him of his lust for you, “You are not perplexed nor disheartened?”

“I am intrigued, sir,” you rephrased his unspoken question, drawing out your syllables with your tongue and teeth, “And I shall take what I am given with a smile on my face.”

Several unspoken moments fell between you, neither one to break away from the illusion that perplexed you. You sucked your lips between your teeth, gnawing at them while the vice-admiral contemplated your words. A shuddered inhale revealed he was ready to inform you of his thoughts.

“I am ready to receive my orders, my lady,” he sighed, his voice riddled with anticipation and desire. You allowed yourself a moment to collect your racing thoughts to form cohesion, offering him a sensual verbal command of your own.

“I look forward to giving them and more to you, Vice-Admiral,” your smirk was depicted through the lifeline Garp held onto. Hs white-knuckled grip on the mouthpiece of the transponder and the desk below his fingertips shuddering with each passing moment he had not held you within his arms. He shuddered in a heavy breath, furrowing his brows in concentration. 

“Would you allow me the luxury of giving you a kiss?” his voice quirked up, his tone subtle and almost boyish in question. You allowed yourself a small giggle in response, leaning into the desk to grace him with an answer.

“All this talk of worship and orders, Vice-Admiral,” you laughed a huffed giggle, “It would be a shame if such lust fell to waste.” The rumbled voice of brutish confirmation held your ears lingering on every utterance of the words departing from his stubbled lips.

“Until we meet face to face, me wee Bonnie Lass,” The vice-Admiral’s voice sung to you.

“Until such a time, Vice-Admiral,” you uttered in confirmation, your vocal tone filled with youthful longing yourself.

Concluding the call with a mischievous grin, you drew your eyes up to the door of your office where Mihawk was leaning against its frame. Your smile never ceased, prompting Mihawk’s smirk to tick up his left hand corner. 

“Vice-Admiral Garp?” he asked, his brow also elevating with his grin. You shrugged, nodding in confirmation and biting back the rise of your smile. Mihawk sighed and shook his head, turning from the door and walking down the hallway.

“We will find a way to exploit this, I’m sure of it,” he called over his shoulder, “But for now, get packing. We leave in an hour.” 

You jumped to your feet, ignoring the next vibration of the den-den-mushi call in favor of following the orders of your boss. Your eagerness had you bouncing with each step, causing Mihawk to let an exasperated breath to leave his body at your youthful giddiness. 

A meeting with the Vice-Admiral, with threats and promises interwoven from his lips, had you buzzing and bobbing with each minute that ticked by. You hoped you both would live up to the hype you had created in the small pocket of the universe, no doubt in your mind that it would. 

Tag list: I am sorry about "The Garpening." He's got a hold of me, and I'm taking you lot with me. @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @feral-artistry

[ryomeans]

nanami kento’s a gentleman — which can be seen with how sweetly he treats you and how much he appreciates and loves you; although you can’t really say the same for his behavior in bed.

his hands are grabbing onto the underside of your knees, holding you in a mean mating press. “c—can feel your pussy clampin’ down on my dick— shit,” he hisses, although he keeps his movements tame as to not hurt you.

your words have become increasingly pleasure-filled and incoherent, drool dripping down the side of your mouth as your clit swells with every thrust of his cock that has his pubic bone brushing against it. “ken, a—agh, slow down- ngh!”

he listens, slowing down his pace and allowing you to catch your breath — or so you thought.

while he did show you some mercy, he angled his hips differently and slammed into you with his cock, reaching even deeper and almost bruising your cervix. “fuuuuuck, this is way better. you gotta cum on my dick, baby. need to have you squirt and make a mess on my shit, yeah?”

the pure filth of his words’ got stars swimming in your vision, legs trembling and aching as your pussy tightens around his length almost suffocatingly, almost halting his movements. “‘m gonna cum, ken, please,” you begged, hand going down to rub circles into your clit.

he smiles, leaning forward and going harder, faster — “you gonna cum, baby? show me how slutty that pussy is? tell me how good my dick makes you feel, come on.”

nanami kento didn’t need words, no — why would he when your pussy squirting all over his cock and getting filled up with his cum is all he needs?

a/n: does this make sense? i wrote this completely horny and smut-brainrotted. nanami kento gotta slut me tf out.

[tonycries]

Nanami likes twisting your panties around his palm the same way- WHO SAID THAT????

[wesaier]

[frenchcoucou]

work crush 💻

ac: ilameys

[tonycries]

Girl, I Do This Often

Synopsis. How does he cope with a séx ban? He doesn’t.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, rough séx, unprotected, stuff with pantíes, gaggíng, bréeding, Nanami is a bit mean, overstím, finger suckíng, really desperate boys, light smackíng (Nanami), bondagé + víbrators (Geto), swearing.

Word count. 5.2k

A/N. Guess what, ya girl just turned 19 yippeeeee.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 4 days

On the first day, Toji’s more amused than anything.

A sex ban? With him? Ridiculous, he predicted a full 24 hours before you come crawling back, just begging to be split-apart on his cock. And he tells you so, too - a little over five times as he kisses your pouty lips, muttering a smug, “You’ll be eating your words soon enough, doll.”

By the third day, he’s beginning to think that okay, maybe you were serious about the ban after all. How cute - real cute. 

He’s left to do nothing but complain pathetically on the phone to a very reluctant Shiu. Who doesn’t have much to say other than cut off Toji’s ramblings about “not having your pretty pussy all day” to groan, “Shut the fuck up and beg for her forgiveness. I’m hanging up.”

Toji can only scoff at the thought. Beg for forgiveness? Him? Toji Fushiguro never begs, he never-

That was until the fourth day. 

With you - bent over the kitchen counter in his t-shirt - and nothing but his t-shirt.

“Please, pretty.” Toji drags his lips down your neck, just loving the way your traitorous hips are grinding back into his. “Said m’sorry, right? Don’t ya miss this?”

And you can only look behind your shoulder at the big arms around your waist, muscled thighs pressed up against yours. Angling your head just right to catch the way his hands snake down to your squirming hips to help you draw slow little circles against the rock-hard erection straining against his pants.

So close. So big.

Big enough that you’re almost thinking of throwing this sec ban out of the window altogether - almost.

But that little smirk of Toji’s is infuriating enough that you’re gasping out a breathless little, “I-I’m still mad at you, y’know? You never let me-” The words die in your throat as Toji pulls his pants down just enough for his aching cock to spring free. So angry and painfully hard, leaking hot precum all over your thighs. 

“No no no- hah. Keep talking.” he grits out, breath hot against your ear. Hips pushing and pulling. “Please- keep talking.”

And fuck you didn’t know what was harder - trying to find your voice, or ripping your eyes away from Toji’s cock long enough that you could. 

“B-because you-” you choke out, watching the way he takes his massive cock in his hands. Staring to pump so slow - so lazy - no rhythm or reason other than getting off so filthily to the sound of your voice. “You never let me take-” He wraps your smaller hands around his dick, so hot and heavy in your palms. “-charge.”

“F-fuck-” Toji lets out a low hiss, head thrown back as you thumb teasingly under his sensitive slit, trying to fuck something delicious out. “Yer killin’ me doll. Killing me.” Whether from your words or from the way you’re sliding him so lewdly between your puffy folds, you didn’t know. 

And Toji didn’t either. Hell, he doesn’t even seem to be breathing as he shifts his toned hips so familiarly. Head filled with only you and your heavenly cunt and you. 

“Toji-” you mewl. “Need you so bad.”

If he was any lesser man, Toji would’ve just bullied himself into your dripping cunt already, fucked you into the counter until there was nothing about any sex ban in your pretty lil’ mind. Instead, he’s panting out an absolutely wrecked, “Please. Then take all the charge you want, pretty.”  Fat head lining up with your sloppy hole. “Next time.”

And oh has it really been that long?

Because Toji’s just barely pushing into your plushy walls, and he already feels like he could cum right then and there. The stretch too sinful. Your walls too tight. So cute how you’re already mumbling his name so deliriously. 

“Awww,” he coos, watching awe-struck at the way you flatten your hands on the counter, fucking yourself back into him in short, shallow little grinds. “The s-sex ban was for ah- nothing, huh?”

You’re pulling him impossibly closer by the hair, catching his lips in such a searing kiss. Drinking in Toji’s guttural grunt as you bite down on his lower lip, “Are ya gonna sh-shut up n’ fuck me or do I need ngh- another sex ban?”

“No, ma’am.” he grins, kissing back so mockingly soft. And you know he’s making fun of you with the way he’s twitching so wildly inside your pussy. Veins dragging against all the right spots as he reels his hips back, back, back - only to slam his cock fully inside. “Guess you’re the one mm- in charge right now, huh?”

Over and over again. Fucking you exactly the way he’s wanted these past four days - and then some. 

Hitting your cervix - but it feels like your fucking lungs. Heavy balls smacking against your ass, so hard that he’s sure it’ll leave some obscene marks for him to point out next time. One hand around your throat, the other keeping your slutty, trembling hips in place while you’re torn between running away and bucking back for more more more-

“Right here.”

It’s all you can do to whirl your head around, eyes glassy and unfocused, whining a broken, “Wh-what?” 

“Right…” Trailing down, featherlight, right where he knew he was wrecking your insides. “Here. S’where I belong.” Pressing hard. “N’ m’gonna make sure you don’t forget it.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 1 week

A week. One week of being patient with your silly idea to “spice things up”. One week of pretending like he wasn’t excusing himself during important meetings to have his cock in his hands - thinking of nothing but you and that sinful little dress you had on today.

One week was all it took for Nanami to have a bad day at work. And you could tell when he did. 

By the way that front door slammed, unfamiliarly harsh footsteps sounding against the hardwood floors. And all it takes is one look at you laid out so prettily on the couch and Nanami’s mouth drops into a soft oh! 

One hand immediately loosening his tie, the other snaking down to his belt. Ashen, tense, - and you have half the mind to wonder whether he’s even breathing. 

Not even looking at you as he mutters a low, “Panties off. Spread those legs.”

That was a few hours ago. 

Before you knew it, your husband had you splayed out like such a slut for him on the couch - too starved to even think about making it to the bed. Legs on his sculpted shoulders, panties in tatters on the floor because you were taking too fucking long. Cock so angry and sensitive as he bullies into your snug cunt, stuffing you full of his cum.

Again. And again and again like he wanted to fuck any and every thought of that stupid sex ban out of your delirious mind. 

“K-Kento- what-” he pulls you into a bruising kiss. Just a sloppy clash of teeth and spit and hands everywhere. “You’re ngh- different.”

At this, Nanami has the audacity to laugh - laugh. Hips snapping impossibly deeper, “Yeah? N’ who’s fault is hah- that? Who’s fault is it th-that we ended hngh- up like-” Pushing your knees all the way up to your tits, groaning at the mess of cum and slick pooling beneath you. “-this?”

Cock just ramming into you, prominent veins nudging against your gummy walls so agonizingly. The couch creaking in protest as he uses your pretty lil’ cunt exactly the way he’s been fantasizing this past week.

And when all you can do is let out delirious little moans in response, Nanami raises his hand up, up, up. Coming down on your ass, hard. 

Smack!

“Didn’t you know we’d end up here?”

Oh the words hit you harder than that large palm-print stinging your ass. Tight pussy clenching and trying to milk the fucking soul out of him as you sob, “I- I didn’t-” Smack! You’re jolting at the impact, hips bucking wildly as you gasp, “-I did! Wanted this so bad, Kento. I did I did-”

And yeah, Nanami knew that. He knew you’d pulled this little “sex ban” stunt to make him break - to have him fuck you like the slut you are. But hearing the words from your pretty mouth had his balls squeezing so painfully. 

“Knew it.” he manages to grit out. “Knew you were such a slut, my love.” Words strained with each harsh thrust, “N’ as my slut, y-you can ngh- take one more, right?” You keen at how soft his tone was, like he was whispering sweet little nothings to you instead of promises to absolutely break you. Fingers trailing down to draw lewd patterns on your throbbing clit, “Right?”

And as if to prove you could, he’s squeezing his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. Faster. Unforgiving. Fat, leaking tip hitting all those sweet spots he’s mapped out, in time with his abuse on your clit.

“Didn’t hah- have to lock myself in my office for nothing, right?” Pulling your trembling hips flush against his toned ones, “Have to get by with j-just a pretty picture this week for nothing?” Hips out of control now. Bruising. Almost painful with the stretch and the sheer pressure of being so full. “S’all for this, right?”

Smack! 

“Oh God, Kento- Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

“Yeah? Feels good?” he nips at your lower lip, “Good enough to fuck- take another one?”

You were sure if he came once more then it might just be the death of you.

You’re not even lucid enough to realize what reaction you’re giving him - all you know is that it isn’t good enough for Nanami. 

Because he lets out a tut, hand dancing across your stomach to where he knew he was absolutely making a mess of you inside. 

“Fine.” And something about the way he says it makes your heart stop, already knowing that it didn’t bode well for you or your poor cunt. “Guess I hafta ngh- help you.” Sure enough, Nanami wastes no time before pushing down on your abdomen. 

The both of you watch - awe-struck and speechless - as your overfilled pussy gushes all around him. 

And shit neither of you can even begin to think of what a bitch it’ll be to clean out this couch later on. Too caught up in the way you’re soaking Nanami’s merciless cock in that sinful mix of cum and slick. Thick, and hot, drooling down the side of your puffy folds. 

“See? Enough space, no?”

You raise your eyes, teary and hazy with lust, up to meet Nanami’s darkened ones and oh-

You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

Especially not when he leans down, whispering so raggedly in your ear, “Now I get to give ya another week’s worth more, right?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 9 days

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

You didn’t know how it ended up this way. How that stupid bet about who’d be the needier one made Geto the one with the sex ban. 

How he had you tied across from him so prettily on the bed, a bullet vibrator stuffed up your dripping cunt, unable to do anything but whine and watch as he spreads his bare, muscled thighs.

Tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching those panties wrapped around his throbbing cock. So angry and leaking all over his fist as one hand slides up, up, up. The other, fiddling with that tiny metal remote. 

“You’re drooling, gorgeous. So desperate, huh?”

You know you aren’t - but you can’t help the way your face burns at your boyfriend’s low chuckle. Thighs squeezing together at the heavenly sight before you. “N-no fair, Sugu.” you whine. “I want to-”

Intensity setting 2.

But whatever words get stuck in your throat as Geto draws harsh, quick little circles on the intensity setting, smirking at the way you’re so wrecked already. 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

“I-I want to-” he mocks your pathetic little whines, acting for all the life of him that they didn’t make his dick twitch so wildly in his hands. “My poor baby. S’not nice, right?” And if you were embarrassed before then it was absolutely nothing in comparison to when Geto knits his brows in mock concern, eyes locked on yours. Hand still moving down his cock, “But isn’t this what you wanted? With the sex ban? Isn’t this-” Hips bucking up to show off how sloppily he’s fucking his fist - and your panties along with it, “-what you were asking for?”

“No.” you’re tugging at the ties at your wrist, “I wanted…”

Intensity setting 3. 

But oh it’s like Geto was well and fully intent on leaving you speechless - and succeeding at it too. 

Because he immediately brings up your panties - flimsy and just so soaked - up to his face, breathing in so filthily. And as if he couldn’t help himself - as if he didn’t want to help himself - the remote falls out of Geto’s hand, “accidentally” locked on the highest setting, first wrapping around his cock to make a mess of himself. 

“F-fuck-” he cracks one eye open, balls squeezing so painfully at the way you were almost in tears trying to get some semblance of friction. “Heh, looks like I’m winning the bet.”

You scoff, but it comes out so pathetically like a whine. “You’re a cheater, I’d have w-won this bet otherwise.”

Ah, how Geto loved your smart mouth - though, he probably loved it even more when you’re fucked dumb. But, right now, bet at the forefront of his mind, the next best thing he could do is shove those sinful panties into your mouth. 

Hand flying up and down his cock faster and faster as you choke like such a slut on it. Greedily eyeing the way your lip wobbles, big fat tears welling up in your eyes, cunt all glistening and quivering as Geto blindly reaches behind to grab ahold of that remote again. 

Intensity setting 4. 

“And you’re too cute.” he drops his head, breath ghosting your lips. “So if you ask me nicely I might just-” Thumb playing around with the intensity, pressing down, hard. As if it would translate to your needy cunt, “-give you my cock, gorgeous.”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

It’s all you can do to keen as his fingers get faster on the remote, other hand getting so sloppy on his painfully hard cock. Matching that sinful little ah! ah! ah! leaving your swollen lips. Sinful - and stubborn, still refusing to say those words that you knew Geto wanted to hear so badly. 

“Awww, still not giving up?” At your delirious little headshake, “Then how about this?” 

Intensity setting 5. 

And shit it makes you arch off the bed entirely. It makes you let out a strangled yelp of, “Oh- fuck. Fuck fuck fuck Sugu, m’gonna-” It makes you cum.

“Tha’s it.” Geto can’t help but let go of his aching cock to draw rough, messy little circles on your clit. Grinning at the way you’re so pretty when you cum untouched - all for him. Over and over and- He reaches over to catch your lips with his, tongue dancing with yours, around your soaked panties. 

So filthy and dizzying that he almost forgets about that bet - almost. Because you’re murmuring something so incoherent into his lips. 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

God, doesn’t matter who wins next time - he needs to fucking do this again.

“What’s that?” he leans in tauntingly, pulling the fabric out of your mouth, finger still running circles around the intensity. Absolutely addicted to the way you’re twitching and whining at the aftershocks of your orgasm, “M’sorry, gorgeous, this vibrator is too loud. Speak up f’me, hm?”

“P-please fuck me, Sugu.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 21 hours

If Choso had it his way, then you’d both still be at home and he’d be balls-deep inside your sloppy pussy - fucking you over and over into the mattress until the neighbours file another noise complaint. 

But, alas, Jin Itadori was sure to hire a hitman - or worse, Sukuna - on him if he missed another family dinner. Which is how it ended up with you, sat so prettily across the table from him, watching through his long lashes at the way that red dress hugged you so sinfully. 

So right, in a way that made Choso almost jealous. So irresistibly, in a way that had Sukuna looking over a few too many times and-

Choso’s chair almost hits the floor with how fast he stands.

Fuck it.

“Sh-shit, Choso I-” 

“Keep ah- that dress up, baby. Unless ya wanna get it d-dirty.” he’s panting into your open mouth,  tongue so hotly toying with yours as he gives you another harsh thrust. “Though, I don’t ngh- mind.”

And he was telling the truth, too. Choso was in no way gentle with the way he had you sat on the bathroom counter, flimsy dress bunched up at your hips. Strong arms spreading your legs so shamefully while he bullied his cock into you with reckless abandon.

Over and over and-

“Cho!” you yelp, as he hits that one spot so expertly. Flashing you a fucked-out grin as how you’re scrambling to cover your mouth. “Th-they’ll hear.”

“So?”

And it’s all you can do to stop your jaw from falling slack once more - both in disbelief and at the way he’s fucking you so mean. So desperately like he hasn’t in months - years, even. Just unfocused, sloppy movements to milk his cock on your snug cunt.

“I don’t mind hah- that either.” Hand dipping underneath your soaked panties - just lazily pulled to the side - to roll your swollen clit between two fingers. “W-what I do mind is my oh- fuck girl holdin’ out on me and wearing that fucking dress on the s-same day.”

Oh you knew you were pushing the limits of your sex ban by wearing his favorite dress, that it would drive him absolutely wild. You just didn’t know it would be this easy.

“But you promised.” you’re letting out such broken little whines, muffled through your fingers, ones that go straight to Choso’s achingly hard cock. “You hngh- promised we wouldn’t at your family’s…”

The only response you get is Choso rolling his hips deeper into yours, so bruising in a way you knew would make you feel so guilty even when all the marks are covered up. Leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck in time with the way he alternates between hitting your poor, abused cervix and that one spot. 

Gasping out a ragged, “I know- I know I know fuck- Hah- I know.” Words strained - like he was losing a bit of his sanity with each thrust. And needed you to be the same. “But shit, baby. Do you know how p-pretty you look right now? Hngh- how fuckable?”

“Y-you’re so fuckin’ dirty.” you mewl, as if you were any better. As if your gummy walls weren’t sucking the fuckin soul out of Choso right now. “Should’ve made the ngh- sex ban even long-”

He bites down at the soft crook of your neck, growling out a little, “Don’t even joke about that.” 

And if Choso expected a response, then he didn’t act that way. 

Hips just erratic against yours, fingers even worse. Not even moving in circles anymore, just messy, sloppy patterns to-

No. 

You gasp at the realization, the deft movements of Choso’s fingers, and it just makes you all the more fucked-out underneath him. Scrambling to grab at the counter - Choso’s hair - his shoulders - just anything and everything to stop yourself from alerting the entire household to what you two were up to. Letting him fuck you like his favorite sextoy, fingers so so messy and spelling out a relentless little C-H-O-S-O-C-H-O-S-

And then you’re cumming and cumming so hard that it almost hurts. Stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your eyes. Choso’s massive cock fucking any and every thought of the dinner just downstairs out of your mind. 

“F-fuck fuck fuck- ngh- we’re never coming back here for dinner again.”

And it’s all you can do to drag your nails down his broad back, leaving deep red marks that make his balls squeeze so painfully. 

It makes him throw his head back, gasping out your name so loud. It makes him pull your hips so bruisingly against his. 

It makes him cum, spilling thick, hot ropes of cum into your pussy. So messy with the way it’s too much to bear, dribbling down your swollen folds, forming a lewd little pool below you. And Choso doesn’t give a fuck - doesn’t care if he leaves marks that everyone will see. Or if that slutty dress of yours has a suspicious little damp patch as he swiftly pulls out to snap your panties back in place. 

Whispering lowly against your lips, “K-keep it in till we leave, hm?”

“Cho-”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“The fuck? You brats fall in or something?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 2 days

The great Ryomen Sukuna has always been terrifying - but never before has he been this ruthless. So utterly savage. Destroying every single curse he comes across in the blink of an eye - friend or foe, big or small. 

Why? All because he hasn’t been able to fuck your pretty lil’ cunt in two days. Which, in his opinion, are two days too long. All because of some stupid little experiment about wanting to see how long it would take to see the king of curses crack.

And when those trembling curses heard about this ah- sex ban through the grapevine, well, they wrote it off as another baseless rumor. Ha, Ryomen Sukuna cracking? Never. 

“Please…brat.” he bites down on your earlobe, further pushing up your expensive robes - ones he’d bought just to get on your good side - to sink his cock deeper inside your heavenly cunt. “There I said it. Now jus’ a bit more-”

And maybe you’re a mastermind - maybe you’re an idiot. Because you’re digging your heels into the mattress, pushing off ever-so-slightly from his aching hard cock. So thick and angry as it slips out of your sloppy hole. 

You bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at a pissed off Sukuna, “I didn’t like your tone.” Crossing your legs to cover that view he was so fixated on, “Either you beg n’ start all over again or-”

“Fine.” he grits out the word, like it physically hurt to. Though, nothing for what falls from his lips next, “Please.”

“Louder.”

“Please.”

There you had it. And you can’t help but smirk, “Well, I liked that one-”

Nothing more is said - in Sukuna’s eyes, nothing more has to be said. Because he’s got his favorite lil’ human all needy and spread so shamefully in front of him, what more could he want? Sukuna grabs your ankles, pulling you to him like a ragdoll. Wasting no time before he’s splitting you apart on his rock-hard cock.

“Ya don’t hah- know how many curses I killed these past two days.” he kisses your ankles so softly. “How many I wanted to kill.”

And God, if you didn’t know any better you’d say it’s like he wanted to kill you with the way Sukuna barely even gives you time to adjust. Stuffing you full of his cock, so hot and thumping against your gummy walls in a maddening little bump! bump! bump! 

Letting out a strangled moan of, “There you go.” Brows scrunching together, looking wrecked already as he rocks his hips into yours - fast. Hard. hands coming up underneath your ass to arch you deeper into him, “Squeezin’ me so- tight. Heh, almost ”

“Oh hngh- ‘Kuna!” you moan, eyes snapping down to the way your cunt was taking him up so good. Puffy folds bulging around his massive cock, looking like they were sucking the fucking soul out of Sukuna as his massive cock disappears in and out in and out in and- “S’too- much-”

“Shut up.” he drops his head, one hand so bruising all over your body - groping your ass, your tits, playing with your throbbing clit. “Ya wanted hah- me to talk, right? And I say-” The other, squeezing your cheeks together into a pathetic lil’ pout, “Open up.”

It’s so embarrassing the way you can’t do anything but let your mouth fall open so sluttily, tongue lolling out just in time to catch the stream of saliva as Sukuna spits once. Twice. 

So filthy with the way he lets it splatter against the corner of your mouth - on purpose. 

“Wanted the king to beg, huh?” Each word is punctuated by such a harsh thrust, twitching balls stinging against your ass. “Well you got it. H-how does it feel, huh?”

And you couldn’t speak up even if you wanted to. Sukuna’s hand too tight around your face, cock too merciless. Slamming his hips down faster and faster as he runs his mouth, like he was taking revenge for the last two days. Again. And again. And again and again-

Grinning at your delirious little gurgles, “Heh, what? Can’t talk?” 

And as if to prove his point, Sukuna loops two big arms around your waist, falling back on his knees with you sat like such a slut on his cock. Fingers lacing above your head to sink you impossibly deeper and deeper-

“Oh my god- K-” Your breath hitches as he fucks up into you so easily. Feeling more and more like some plaything with each ripple of his muscles underneath your legs. So hard you were sure it would leave marks - both confirming and condemning those rumors you knew have been flying around. His balls on your ass, thighs underneath yours, nails dragging lightly down your skin. 

Resting on your waist, holding your quivering hips still as he grunts, “Now shut up. M’gonna get my fill of the last two days.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 4 hours

To the great Gojo Satoru, this droning, 4-hour meeting with the elders was a nightmare. To you, it was exactly where you wanted him

It wasn’t often that the strongest was tense - jittery, even, like he was about to jump out of his seat at any given moment. But, really, it was almost impossible not to, considering that stern talking-to you’d given him about “no sneaking out during meetings.” Especially when you’re sat across from him looking so beautifully unbothered.

Your smile too pretty, your uniform unbuttoned just enough that it gave him such a heavenly view when you bent over just so.  

Oh, how Gojo wishes he could just-

And that was when he felt it. 

That slow, slight touch up his inner thigh - so fleeting and light that he almost thinks he’s imagining it. But, no, Gojo could never mistake any touch from you. 

It sends his entire skin burning to catch your eye ever-so-briefly from across the table. A tiny smirk gracing those pretty lips as your heel inches up, up, up-

“Gojo, do you have anything to comment on the recent increase in curse sightings?”

He stifles a groan underneath one palm, the other snaking under the table just in time to catch your ankle before you can carefully slip away. “I think…” he manages to grit out, heady gaze flitting over to yours, “-that is a question my lovely wife and I must discuss first.”

Oh? 

And then, your back is hitting a plush mattress before you know it - long before the realization hits you that this bastard just fucking teleported the two of you to your bedroom. 

“T-Toru-” you sputter out, whatever reprimand getting stuck in your throat at how desperate Gojo was acting. Your uniform buttons hitting the floor as he rips open your shirt, hands bunching up your skirt, only having enough patience to just pull aside your soaked panties, rolling your pretty clit between two fingers. Needy. “The meeting-”

“The meeting isn’t here now, right?” 

Words so hoarse it takes you a moment to recognize it as your husband’s. You were only beginning to wonder just what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into when Gojo tugs down his pants just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free.

And oh then it makes sense. Because Gojo was so hard that it looked painful - so so red, and angry. Soaked in enough precum that it made a damp little patch on his trousers, heavy balls twitching at the mere sound of your voice.

“D-didn’t I say no sneaking out this time, Toru?” You buck into his touch, despite your words, eyes locked on the way Gojo stops toying with your clit to pool your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips.

“You did.” Raising his long, glossy fingers to those pretty pink lips, “But this is teleporting, not sneaking out, sweetheart.”

Gojo’s like a man possessed as he pops your slick-covered fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sinful taste. 

Gasping out a wet, “Fuck the ban. Can’t go without ya. Can’t-” One hand sliding his fat tip between your swollen folds, up and down up and down - spreading them apart, just barely dipping into your sloppy entrance. “-can’t live without this pretty cunt.”

And then it’s like something snaps - Gojo’s patience, his sanity, the last of his restraint as he sinks his throbbing cock into your plushy walls. 

Pushing past that first, tight ring of muscle, and at the first feeling of your gummy walls milking his cock, he pants out a strained, “Fuck- oh fuck fuck fuck, yer the stuff of dreams, my girl. This cunt- ngh-” Pushing your legs further apart, fingers back on your clit “-would’ve fucked this cunt right in ah- front of those old toads. But, you’re lucky I’m a jealous man.”

“Oh- oh my god, s’too- too- big!”

God, you needed to spread your legs more - as if they weren’t being folded apart so easily by a delirious Gojo - maybe breathe, try to relax because Gojo was so big. And so unforgiving. 

Feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs as he thrusts in quick, shallow little thrusts to bully himself inside your snug cunt. Jagged - like he was fighting with some absolutely, depraved, feral part of himself. 

You can feel the way your hips are torn between pushing away and grinding back down for more more more- And Gojo can, too.

“No-” he hisses. Brows scrunching in frustration, hips becoming more and more sloppy - frenzied. “No no no no no- hold on, sweetheart. Need this, need this so bad.”

Going faster. 

Deeper. 

You sob, ankles locking around his slutty waist. “B-but Toru-” You make a feeble last attempt at regaining your sanity. Your entire body jolting as Gojo presses so hard on your clit. “-we should ngh- hurry up. W-we’ll be late to the meeting-”

But does it really matter? Gojo doesn’t think so, not when he finally bottoms out in one, rough thrust. Groaning as his sensitive balls smack your ass.

Your cunt so slutty and tight - sucking him up so good despite your cute lil’ pleas about something stupid like “responsibilities”. 

So he really can’t help the way he wastes no time before reeling his hips back - all the way till his weeping tip is just kissing your sloppy hole. Before fucking into you completely - rough. Unrestrained. The same way he imagined taking you on that meeting room table. Over and over and-

“Not yet.” he grins against your lips, “We’re not done discussing the recent increase in curse sightings.”

A/N. Gojo’s came out toooo long I don’t even like this man fr (loud incorrect buzzer).

Plagiarism not authorized.

[killerplink]

Him Also him

[tonycries]

Nanami Kento is the type of man to make playlists about you and it's mainly Hozier songs.

Nanami Kento is the type of man to buy a ring right after the first date just because.

Nanami Kento is the type of man to commission an artist to create a few beautiful artworks of what your kids might just look like.

Nanami Kento is the type of man where you could show up in a trashbag and he'd still think you're the most beautiful person in the world.

Nanami Kento is The Man.

[frenchcoucou]

Nanami 💋

Ac: midjourney on twt