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We all know reblogging is very important on tumblr. So when you see me only liking your writings → it's because I saved it to read later. After I read it, I'm gonna reblog it.
Leaving comments: it's difficult for me to leave detailed comments cause my main language is not english. But I'm working on it! You deserve these reblogs and comments!
Everyone thinks you’re just friends. They see the way she leans in close when you laugh, the casual touches, the shared glances. They assume it’s harmless fun. That you’re two girls who click really well. They have no idea how wrong they are. Because the truth lives in stolen moments like this.
The bar bathroom is small and dimly lit, the bass from the music outside vibrating through the walls. She followed you in under the excuse of “fixing your hair,” but the second the door locked, she had you pressed against the sink, mouth on yours like she’d been starving for it all night.
Her tongue slides against yours, deep and filthy, while her hand slips under your dress. Two fingers push inside you without warning, curling instantly against that spot that makes your knees weak. You moan into her mouth, gripping her shoulders as she fucks you with steady, practiced strokes.
“Third time today,” she murmurs against your lips, smirking. “You’re such a greedy little thing for me, aren’t you?” You can barely answer. Your head falls back as she adds a third finger, stretching you open while her thumb circles your clit. She kisses down your neck, sucking lightly, careful not to leave marks where people might see.
“Come on, baby,” she whispers, voice low and sweet. “Let me feel you. I want you to soak my hand again.” You come hard, biting down on her shoulder to stay quiet, thighs shaking around her wrist. She works you through it, murmuring soft praises against your ear until your breathing evens out.
She pulls her fingers out slowly, brings them to her mouth, and licks them clean while holding your gaze. Then she kisses you again, letting you taste yourself on her lips. She fixes your dress with gentle hands, adjusts your hair for you, and smiles like she didn’t just ruin you in a public bathroom.
“Ready to go back out there?” she asks, voice innocent. You nod, legs still shaky. No one outside has any idea what just happened. And that’s exactly how you both like it.
If there was one thing about rue, it's that her world was very, very, very...purple.
when she was high, everything was that powerful shade of amethyst. when she was sober, the grape-flavored sugar inch her just a little closer to that short-lit buzz. It wasn't coke, but it was definitely a sugar.
she wasn't the one for pink. that was cassie's thing. and Rue? well, Rue's not cassie, if you couldn't tell already.
but you know what she really, really loved, that just-so-happened to be pink?
the beautiful, flesh-colored flower that lay nestled between your thighs.
the pink, puffy lips she’d bury her tongue between when candy wasn’t enough. the wet muscle that would lick and slurp at your clit like the leftover carbonated soda at the bottom of an aluminum can.
her lips would still be sticky; too drained to properly lick up the high-fructose residue before settling on something better. sugar wasn’t enough…it wasn’t pure like her name spilling from your lips as quietly as it could.
no additives, no gluten, no chemicals, no risk…just pussy and lust that sent Rue’s hormones into overdrive.
saliva dripped down her chin, creating a sticky, sloppy mess between your thighs that dribbled onto the sheets. and when her mouth wasn’t busy, her hands were.
long and limber fingers plunging in and out of your greedy pussy while she laid feather-light kisses to your aching clit. the room would fill with wet, pornographic sonic waves; Rue’s relentless slurping, your gutty moans, the creaking of Rue’s aged bedframe.
but if you’re lucky…you’ll hear it. the unusually stable tone of your lover making a confession.
“you taste just like grapes, baby… ’s my fuckin’ favorite.”
summary: you and rue are chilling together in her bedroom, talking and cuddling… and then a kiss turns heated, and her hands begin to wander.
warnings: fluff. bestfriends-turned-lovers. soft smut. fingering (fem!receiving). rue kind of talking you through it. rue is so enamoured by you. no use of y/n. [2k]
The room was almost completely dark except for the dull amber glow from the streetlamp outside Rue’s window, the light slipping weakly through the blinds and stretching across the walls in thin uneven lines. Everything in her bedroom felt soft around the edges at night — the scattered clothes on the floor, the tangled charger cords, the faint outline of posters taped crookedly against the wall, the quiet hum of the ceiling fan overhead. The air smelled faintly like laundry detergent and weed, and you could hear the distant sound of cars outside every now and then. The room mostly felt sealed off from the rest of the world, suspended in its own quiet atmosphere where time moved slower.
Rue lay on her side facing you, curled halfway beneath her blanket, one arm tucked beneath the pillow. Her curls were flattened messily against the fabric, slightly frizzy around her forehead, and her hooded eyes looked heavy with exhaustion in the way they always did at night. Even relaxed, Rue carried tiredness like it had soaked permanently into her bones. Her expression shifted lazily as she looked at you – somewhere between amusement and vulnerability – and every so often the corner of her mouth twitched upward into those brief crooked smiles she never seemed fully aware she was making. Her gaze drifted over your face quietly, lingering with the kind of attention that always made your chest ache a little. Rue looked at people carefully when she loved them, like she was trying to memorise proof they existed. Even now, half-asleep and emotionally worn out, she studied tiny things: the movement of your mouth when you smiled, the way your eyelashes caught the dim light, the shape your hand made against the blanket between you.
“What?” you whispered.
Rue blinked slowly. “Nothing.”
“You’re staring at me.”
“I know.”
“But why?”
Another tiny shrug. “Because I like looking at you.”
The honesty in her voice came so naturally it almost hurt. Rue rarely sounded embarrassed when she admitted things late at night. The exhaustion stripped some of her defenses away, softening the sharpness she carried during the day. Her sarcasm became quieter, her detachment loosened, and what remained underneath was startlingly gentle. It happened slowly, a small smile pulling at her mouth whilst her eyes stayed half-lidded. Rue always looked strangely younger when she smiled for real; The heaviness in her face loosened for a few seconds, revealing flashes of the softness she usually buried under irony and exhaustion.
There was a long comfortable silence afterward — not empty silence, but the kind that felt intimate because neither of you felt pressured to fill it. Rue’s hand shifted slightly beneath the blanket until her fingers brushed yours. The movement was hesitant, absentminded almost, but when your fingers curled instinctively against hers, you felt the tiny exhale leave her chest. Relief. Rue reacted to affection like someone constantly bracing for it to disappear.
The amber light from the streetlamp cast long, flickering shadows across her face, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes and the slight tremor in her breath. For a moment, the world outside – the chaos of East Highland, the crushing weight of her addiction, the volatility of her family – felt like a distant memory. In this small, dim sanctuary of a bedroom, there was only the sound of your synchronised breathing and the electric tension humming between your bodies.
You shifted closer, the fabric of your clothes rustling against the sheets, until your foreheads rested against one another. The proximity allowed you to see the golden flecks in her pupils and the way her eyelashes fluttered. Rue’s gaze dropped to your lips, her expression turning tentative, almost questioning. She was always calculating, always analysing the risks, but the longing in her eyes outweighed the hesitation.
When she finally spoke, her voice was a low, raspy murmur that vibrated in your chest. "I don't want to mess this up," she whispered, her breath warm against your skin. "I just... I really want to kiss you."
You didn't answer with words, instead tilting your head just enough to bridge the final gap. When your lips finally met, it was a soft exploration. It tasted like the gum she’d been chewing and felt like a homecoming. Rue let out a shaky sigh into the kiss, her hand sliding from your fingers to cup the side of your face, her palm slightly rough but her touch incredibly gentle. She kissed you as if you were something fragile, something precious that she was terrified of breaking. It was a slow burn, a gradual deepening of pressure as the initial nervousness melted into a desperate, aching need.
As the kiss grew more heated, Rue’s movements became more urgent. She groaned softly, a sound of pure surrender, as she pulled you closer, her body molding against yours. The friction of your hips pressing together ignited a fire that had been simmering since the moment you both realised your friendship had shifted into something deeper. Rue’s hand slid down from your cheek to grip your waist, pulling you flush against her as if she were trying to merge your two souls into one.
The heat intensified, and Rue’s hand began to wander, drifting down from your waist to the waistband of your sleep shorts. She paused for a heartbeat, searching for permission, her touch a mixture of desire and a deep-seated need to ensure you were comfortable. When you let out a small, encouraging sound and arched your back toward her, she let out a breath she seemed to have been holding for a lifetime. Slowly, tentatively, her fingers slid into the fabric of your shorts, the cool air hitting your skin for only a second before the warmth of her palm replaced it.
Rue’s fingers found your centre, and the first time she brushed against your clit, you gasped. She froze, her forehead still resting against yours, her voice a strained, loving whisper. "Is this okay?" she murmured, her eyes wide and searching.
You could feel her heart hammering against your ribs, her vulnerability on full display. You nodded lightly, giving her the confidence she needed. She began to rub you in slow, deliberate circles, her touch light but precise, building the tension inside you. The friction was intoxicating, and Rue watched your face with an intensity that felt like she was reading your every nerve ending. She loved the way your eyes fluttered shut and the way your breath hitched.
“You’re so wet," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She shifted her position, sliding two fingers down and pushing them slowly, lovingly, into your heat. You let out a soft moan, your thighs instinctively parting a little wider around her hand. Rue didn't rush; she moved with a patient, rhythmic grace, fingering you with a tenderness that almost brought tears to your eyes. She continued to talk to you, her voice a soothing anchor in the storm of pleasure. "You feel so good," she whispered, her thumb continuing to stimulate your clit whilst her fingers worked inside you.
Every thrust was calculated to maximise your pleasure, her fingers curling upward to hit the exact spot that made your toes curl and your vision blur. Rue’s own breathing was heavy, her face flushed, her eyes half-closed in a state of blissful concentration. She wasn't seeking her own release; she was devoted to yours, treating your body like a map she was discovering for the first time.
As the climax began to build, Rue increased the pace, her fingers sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound that echoed in the quiet room. She leaned in to press a kiss against your neck, her voice becoming a series of low, encouraging whispers. “Right there? Do you like that?" she gasped, feeling the walls of your pussy tighten around her fingers.
“Yes,” you breathed back with a nod, your brows pinched in pleasure and your hand gripping her upper arm as the coil in your lower stomach tightened.
When you finally broke, moaning her name into the silence of the room, Rue didn't pull away. She held you through the tremors, her fingers staying inside you for a few more moments, grounding you as the waves of pleasure slowly receded, leaving you both breathless and tangled together in the amber glow of the night.
Rue stayed close even after your breathing began to steady, her forehead pressed lazily against your shoulder while the room settled back into silence around you. The air felt warm and heavy beneath the blankets, carrying the lingering smell of sweat, laundry detergent, and the faint sweetness of the candle burning low on her dresser. Rue’s fingers finally slipped from between your thighs with lingering care, slow enough that it made you shiver again, and you immediately curled against her afterward like the distance bothered you instinctively. She buried her face half against your neck, breathing unevenly, her curls tickling your skin.
Her hand drifted lazily across your waist beneath the blanket as she asked, “You okay?” The question came out more serious than everything else she’d said. You could hear the uncertainty beneath it — the fear of having done something wrong without realising it.
You brushed your fingers gently through the curls sticking damply against her forehead. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
Rue visibly relaxed. It happened in tiny ways: her shoulders loosening, her breathing evening out, the anxious tension leaving her eyes. She nodded once against the pillow, almost to herself. “Okay,” she whispered.
The room fell quiet again afterward, but it wasn’t awkward silence; it felt intimate in a way that almost hurt. Your legs remained tangled together beneath the blankets whilst Rue traced absentminded shapes against your skin with slow sleepy fingers, like she needed physical contact to reassure herself you were still there.
A/N* not really grammar checked, posted on a whim. enjoy the luffy nsfw drabble!
“shhh, we have to be quiet, zoro is right below us”
Luffy’s is rutting into your pussy at a frantic pace, not even near slowing down. His hand is pushing on his straw hat that he in trusted on your head, his other hand on your ass. You’re whining out moans of his name as he fucks you, backshot style. Your creamy overstimulated cunt is warmly wrapped around his cock.
He’s been at it for quite some time, you’ve been fucked in multiple positions, getting freely tossed around, cumming at his will. The air is cold against your skin, you’re only in a robe, it’s not enough to keep you warm, but his cum is doing a fine job at that that.
Loads of thick white globs of cum leak out of you at every thrust of his cock. A foamy rim of cum from both of you is around the lips of your cunt. Luffys grip tightens on your ass, as yours tightens on the wooden railing of the sunny. The wood is creaking at each shared trust, and the straw hat on your head is jolting with it.
The Sunny is rocking gently along with the water, and the moon is shining on your faces “you feel sooo good- oh my- I just want you on my cock, forever~” he whines out to you, a plea as if you guys don’t have duty’s in the morning.
He moves with a rough but careful rhythm, each motion claims you as his. His body is tense as every muscle is tight as he fucking into you, the sound of his hips meeting yours are muffled by the waves against the ship.
The mix of his scent with the sea, his hard yet sweet pace, it becomes a bit to much. Soon, your body is overwhelmed with pleasure “fuckkk~ luffy- I can’t please, it’s to much for me” your legs are shaking at a fast rate, and your thighs jiggle with every push of his dick.
Luffys movements become more heated, and urgent, like your words were almost a praise of encouragement “you can do it, just give me one more round. please, I know you can~” he begs out to you, and with a sudden motion, he pulls you up and spins you around to face him. There is quick pause in your movements, you see your captains fucked out face.
“So perfect for me, just so-“ he keeps eyecontact, his eyes droopy, his thrusts continue even harder and deeper than the last time. The force of them jolts your whole body, your head leans back. Your body feels warm, and the core of your stomach feels tight with unreleased pressure. He goes to nuzzle his head in your shoulder for a second.
Then, Luffy's pace becomes almost frantic. His head pulls back up, and his hands slide up from your waist, one tangling in your hair to gently tilt your head back. The other hand is possessively across your stomach, holding you tight against him as he moves.
“I can’t hold back much longer” he moans in your ear, his breath is hot and sends shivers down your spine.
“captain~ ngh please, I’m so close… don’t stop” luffy groans out a low rumble to your words, he lets out all that he’s been saving for this round. He drives into your cunt with a fiery passion, the pleasure building up in you with every thrust.
Luffy has lost control at this point, one of his hands land back on your hips and he’s fucking you with all he can give. His other hand is now rubbing where he hopes is your clit (lets bffr, he guesses) “I won’t stop- can’t stop anymore, I need you, you’re everything to me- Close- so close, ah cumming, cumming for you~”
With one final thrust, a hot stream of cum fills you to the brim. His body is trembling against your back, and his movements become raw as he fucks you through his climax.
The last moan rips out of him, and he is back to pushing his face in your shoulder. He bites down to contain the rest of his cry’s, and the intensity is enough to trigger your own orgasm. A rush of overwhelming pleasure comes over you, and you moan out your captains name repeatedly. You frantically thrust against luffys cock, in a final attempt of stimulation. 
For a long moment, after both your movements went still, there was only the sound of their breathing. Your pussy is still pulsing around him, and his dick is still hard. Some of his cum is dripping down your tight but neither of you care. Luffys arms are wrapped around your shaking body, keeping you upright while you both try to settle down from your peak.
The silence is finally broken by luffys muffled voice in your shoulder, “soo…. how about another round? Before the crew wakes up?”
You’re going to be up all night
A/N* just a bit of a longer drabble, nothing too special. I’m on wano currently, and luffy is just giving me to many dirty thoughts lolol, feel free to look at my request page and shoot a request! I appreciate your guys support 😘
Pairing: Rue Bennett x Reader
Summary: You finally see your ex-girlfriend (who you've been avoiding for a month) at a party. This time, you can't run away.
Themes & Warnings: TENSION, wlw, rue is california sober, did i mention tension??, arguing, ansgty, jealousy, i love rue bennett my crush on her is massive, s1/2 euphoria, SPICY, kinda toxic, resolution!
The party reeked of liquor and perfumed sweat. Glitter swirled in the air, a purple hue falling onto your skin and making you feel like everything was a dream. Another party thrown by the football team - somewhere you wouldn't typically show your face. But your best friend didn't give you a choice this time.
Maddy's manicured hand gripped your arm, yanking you to her side.
"Bitch!" She exclaimed, her other hand thrusting a drink, full to the brim with something startlingly blue, into yours. "Drink. You aren't gonna be miserable tonight."
You stared the liquid down like it had personally offended you. The last thing you needed was to get sloppy drunk and embarrass yourself with how you'd been feeling recently. Depressed. Icky. Lonely, but too stubborn to reach out for company. And angry. You couldn't lie, the idea of taking revenge at a party had been alluring to you before. But now that you were here, it seemed too daring.
It was evident, though, that Maddie had finally had enough.
You took a breath to speak, trying to push the cup away.
"No." She held up a single finger, the acrylic tip painted with glaring red, and pressed it to your lips before you could protest. "I've watched you rot in your bedroom for like, a month. You've left me on read, bailed on that thing with Kat, and you haven't even let Cassie give her annoying mom-hug." Her eyes narrowed, dark and dangerous. "So tonight, you are going to drink this disgusting blue shit and have fun. With me."
Madeleine Perez had claimed you as her best friend freshman year without asking permission. She'd decided, correctly, somehow, that your energy was the perfect counterbalance to her whirlwind. She'd towed you into her orbit and never let go. Underneath the razor-sharp eyeliner and the casual cruelty she could weaponize at will, Maddy loved with a ferocity that bordered on terrifying. You were hers, and she took your pain as a personal insult.
You rolled your eyes, taking the cup.
"You know I don't want to be here. I don't want to see her, and-"
"And what?" Maddy cut you off with a sharp laugh. "You're gonna hide forever? You think Rue Bennett is gonna vanish off the face of the earth just because you've been ghosting the entire town?" She tilted her head, earrings swaying. "News flash, babe. She's still here. You just need to show her what she fucked up and lost."
"Maddy," Cassie's voice came from behind you, gentle and warning. She'd materialized without you noticing, Kat trailing in her wake. "Maybe don't."
"What? I'm not saying anything that isn't true." Maddy shrugged, unrepentant. "Rue hangs out with Jules now. She didn't cut herself off from planet Earth. My girl isn't going to either."
The name hit you square in the chest. Jules. Of course. Rue and Jules. Jules and Rue. The new girl with the cotton-candy hair and the artistic laugh and the way of looking at Rue that made you want to throw something. You didn't have the right to be jealous, though.. You'd ignored a plethora of texts from Rue.
In fact, that was exactly why you didn't want to be here. You were throwing yourself to the wolves. Exposing yourself to Rue and waiting for her to pounce.
Your phone had buzzed constantly that first week. You'd read every message through the notification preview, never opening them, never giving her the satisfaction of a read receipt.
can we talk
i know you're pissed just let me explain
please
y/n come on
And then, after three days of silence on your end: i'm sorry.
Then nothing for two weeks. Then, just last Tuesday, a single message at 2:47 AM: i still have your hoodie. the grey one with the paint stain. do you want it back?
You hadn't responded to that one either. But you'd cried for an hour afterward, because that hoodie wasn't just a hoodie. It was the one you'd been wearing the night she first kissed you. The night she'd pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed, and whispered, "Is this okay?" like she couldn't quite believe you wanted her.
You'd kept every message. You'd reread them until the words blurred. And you'd never, not once, typed a reply.
You knew, deep down, that Rue didn't deserve one. She couldn't stay clean, she couldn't stop lying, she couldn't stop doing everything she'd sworn she wouldn't. You were angry at her. You were forcing yourself to stay strong. And Maddy was by your side, always.
She plucked the blue drink from your hand and took a sip herself, grimacing. "Ugh. This tastes like battery acid. Why do football players have such terrible taste in everything?"
"They're football players," Kat said flatly. "That's the answer."
Cassie, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up. "Maybe... maybe you should talk to her, though? Not tonight," she added quickly, seeing Maddy's expression. "But eventually. You can't avoid her forever. And she does look really sad."
"Cassie, no," Maddy groaned. "We're not doing the 'she looks sad' thing. Rue is a big girl. She can handle her own feelings."
"I'm just saying! Closure is important. My therapist says-"
"Your therapist also said you should stop dating guys who look like they've never heard of moisturizer, but here we are."
"That's not fair. McKay has great skin."
"And has the emotional depth of a pet rock," Kat muttered.
You let their bickering fade into the background, your eyes drifting across the party against your will. You couldn't help it. Some magnetic, masochistic part of you needed to find her in the crowd.
And you did.
Rue was in the corner, near the speakers, where the purple lights didn't quite reach. She wasn't alone. Jules was beside her, all long legs and ethereal energy, her hair a cotton-candy cloud in the dim room, and some guy you vaguely recognized from your English class was talking animatedly, gesturing with a red solo cup. Rue wasn't listening to him. You could tell by the distant look in her eyes, the way her fingers were absently picking at the sleeve of her hoodie.
But she was watching you.
Those dark eyes, half-lidded and unreadable, were fixed on your face with an intensity that made your stomach clench. Her jaw was tight. Her shoulders were rigid. She looked away the second your gazes met, ducking her head toward Jules like she'd been paying attention all along. But the muscle in her temple was jumping.
"Bitch, are you even listening to me?"
You snapped back to Maddy, who was staring at you with narrowed eyes.
"Sorry. What?"
"I said," Maddy enunciated slowly, "that you need another drink. A stronger one. Because I refuse to let you spiral." She snatched your cup, still mostly full, and dumped it into a nearby potted plant without a shred of remorse. "We're doing shots."
"Maddy-"
"Shots!"
An hour later, you were drunk.
Not tipsy. Not buzzed. Drunk. The kind of drunk where the edges of the room went soft and the music stopped being noise and started being something you felt in your bones. The kind of drunk where Maddy's laughter sounded like wind chimes and Cassie's worried looks stopped registering and Kat's sarcastic commentary became genuinely hilarious.
The kind of drunk where you stopped thinking about Rue.
Mostly.
"She's still looking at you," Kat murmured, appearing at your elbow with a cup of water she'd been trying to push on you for the last ten minutes.
"Who?" You knew exactly who.
"Don't play dumb. Corner. Three o'clock. She's been staring at you since we got here, and honestly, it's getting a little creepy. Like, blink twice if you're being held hostage, Rue."
You didn't look. You refused to look. Instead, you grabbed the water from Kat's hand and took a sip, even though your coordination was shot and a little of it dribbled down your chin.
"Attractive," Kat said dryly, handing you a napkin.
"I'm very attractive. I'm a catch." The words slurred together slightly. "Maddy said so."
Maddy was already materializing beside you, her eyes glittering with a dangerous, scheming light that you recognized all too well.
"Okay," she said, looping her arm through yours. "Don't be mad."
"Why would I be mad? You only say 'don't be mad' when you've done something I'm definitely gonna be mad about."
Maddy grinned, unrepentant. "There's a girl over by the stairs. She's been checking you out all night, and I may have told her you were single and emotionally available."
"You what?"
"Don't freak out. She's cute. Like, really cute. Dark hair, great cheekbones, definitely your type-"
"Maddy, what the fuck!"
"Come," she insisted, steering you through the crowd with surprising strength for someone her size. "You've been moping for a month. A month! And I love you, but you need to get back out there. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Or on top. I don't know your preferences."
"Maddy, stop it." You whined.
But it was too late. You were already face-to-face with the girl from the stairs.
She was cute. Annoyingly cute. Dark hair cropped close on the sides, longer on top, a silver ring glinting in her nose. She had a sharp smile and the kind of confident energy that made your drunk brain short-circuit.
"Hey," she said, her voice low and smooth. "Maddy told me your name, but I want to hear you say it."
Maybe Maddy was right. It was time to explore. After all, you couldn't let all the self-torture be for no reason.
Before you knew it, all of your hesitance flew out the window. A shy, drunk smile spread over your lips as you looked down at your feet, then back up. The girl tilted her head, waiting for you to speak.
"Y/n L/n." You said, holding a manicured hand out for her to take.
"Avery." Her grip was warm and firm, her thumb brushing deliberately over your knuckles before she let go. "Nice to finally meet you. I've seen you around."
"Have you?" Your drunk brain was slow, syrupy, but not so far gone that you missed the way her eyes dropped to your mouth.
"Hard to miss." She leaned a shoulder against the wall, casual, confident. "You're always with Maddy. She's kind of terrifying."
"She's very terrifying," you agreed, glancing back at Maddy, who shot you an exaggerated thumbs up and a mouthed get it, bitch before Kat dragged her away.
And then it was just you and Avery. And the music. And the purple lights. And the two shots of tequila still burning pleasantly in your stomach.
Avery was easy to talk to. She was a senior, she told you, transferred from a school two towns over. She asked about your classes, your taste in music, the book you'd been reading when she spotted you in the library last week. The conversation flowed without effort, lubricated by alcohol and the giddy rush of someone new paying attention to you.
At some point, she'd stepped closer. Close enough that you could smell her perfume - something woodsy, clean. Close enough that her knee brushed yours when she laughed at something you said.
"So," she said, tilting her head, "you're single?"
"Complicatedly single."
"That's the best kind." She grinned. "Complicated means there's a story. I like stories."
"There's definitely a story."
"Tell me?"
You should have said no. You should have changed the subject, asked her about her own stories instead. But the tequila had loosened your tongue, and the words were already spilling out before you could stop them.
"My ex is here." The confession tasted like lime and salt and poor decisions. "She's been staring at me all night. It's... a lot."
She followed your gaze across the room. Rue was still in the corner. Jules had drifted toward the dance floor, leaving Rue alone with her thoughts and her red solo cup and her murderous expression. She was looking at you again - no, not at you. At Avery. The way she was leaning into your space, one hand on the wall beside your head, her body angled toward you like a parenthesis closing around a sentence.
"Rue Bennett," Avery stated simply. "She's your ex?"
"You know her?" The question came out sharper than you intended.
"Everyone knows Rue. Or knows of her, at least." Avery's expression was unreadable. "She's got a reputation. Recovering addict, right? OD'd over the summer?"
Your stomach twisted. Hearing it spoken so casually, so matter-of-fact, made something defensive flare up in your chest. Rue's overdose wasn't gossip. It wasn't a talking point. It was the worst night of your life, the hospital waiting room, the fluorescent lights, the way you'd sobbed into Maddy's shoulder until you couldn't breathe.
"Yeah," you said quietly. "She's been through a lot."
Avery held up her hands. "No judgment. Just repeating what I've heard." She tilted her head, studying you with new interest. "You're still hung up on her."
It wasn't a question.
"I..." You swallowed hard. "It's complicated."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it keeps being true."
She hummed, leaning into you. Her lips met your ear with a gentleness that made a warm wave curl down your spine.
"I can help you figure things out."
Your breath caught. The tequila was swimming through your veins, making everything slow and syrupy and unreal. Avery's perfume was dizzying and nothing like Rue's familiar old spice and laundry detergent. Her hand settled on your hip, light, questioning. Providing you with an option if you wanted it.
You didn't pull away.
"Yeah?" Your voice came out breathier than you intended.
"Yeah." She pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, her sharp smile softening into something more genuine. "No pressure. No expectations. Just... a good time. You look like you could use one."
Maybe she was right. Maybe this was exactly what you needed, something simple, something uncomplicated, something that wasn't wrapped up in overdoses and relapses and 3 AM phone calls that made your heart stop. Avery didn't know you. She didn't know about the hospital waiting room or the unanswered texts or the way you'd cried until your ribs ached. She just saw a girl at a party who looked sad and lonely and in need of a distraction.
And God, you wanted to be distracted.
"I don't usually do this," you admitted, but you didn't step back. Didn't remove her hand from your hip.
"What, talk to attractive strangers at parties?"
"Something like that."
"Then I'm honored." She tilted her head, that dark hair falling across her forehead. "Seriously, though. If you want me to back off, say the word. I'm not here to add to the drama. I just think you're beautiful, and your ex is an idiot for letting you go."
Your drunk brain latched onto that. Your ex is an idiot. Rue was an idiot. Rue had let you go. Rue had chosen pills over you, numbness over you, oblivion over you. And now she was standing in the corner with Jules and her red solo cup, watching you like she had any right to be angry.
Screw her.
"I don't want you to back off," you heard yourself say.
Avery's smile widened. "Good."
She leaned in again. This time, her lips found the corner of your jaw. a barely-there brush that sent sparks skittering across your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut. Your hand came up to grip her shoulder, steadying yourself. The party dissolved around you. the bass, the laughter, the purple lights, until there was nothing but the warmth of her mouth tracing a slow path toward your ear.
"Still okay?" she murmured against your skin.
"Yeah," you breathed. "Still okay."
What you didn't see, what you couldn't see, with your eyes closed and your head tilted back, was Rue.
Rue, who had gone completely rigid in her corner.
Rue, whose knuckles were white around her solo cup.
Rue, whose dark eyes had shifted from murderous to something far more devastating. Something broken. The look of a girl watching the only thing she'd ever truly loved slip through her fingers in real time.
Jules noticed. Of course she noticed. She followed Rue's gaze across the room, took in the scene, Avery's lips on your neck, your hand gripping her shoulder, the way your body curved into hers like a plant seeking sunlight, and her expression flickered with something complicated.
"Rue," Jules said quietly, touching her arm. "Maybe we should go."
"No." Rue's voice was flat. Hollow. "I'm fine."
"You're shaking."
"I said I'm fine."
But she wasn't fine. She was the opposite of fine. She was burning alive, consumed by a jealousy so potent it felt like poison in her bloodstream. Every rational thought was drowned out by the primal, gut-wrenching need to cross the room and pull you away from that girl. To put her body between yours and Avery's. To tell her, in no uncertain terms, to keep her fucking hands off what didn't belong to her.
Except you didn't belong to Rue anymore. That was the problem.
"Rue," Jules tried again, her grip tightening on her arm. "Don't do anything stupid."
And for a moment, it seemed like Rue would listen. She took a shaky breath. She uncurled her fists. She looked down at her shoes, scuffed Vans, and tried to remember all the things Ali had told her about letting go, about accepting the consequences of her actions, about not letting her emotions rule her.
And then Avery's hand slid from your hip to the small of your back, and something in Rue snapped.
She was moving before she could stop herself. Shaking off Jules' grip. Cutting through the crowd with single-minded determination, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her teeth. She didn't know what she was going to do. Didn't know what she was going to say. All she knew was that she couldn't stand there for one more second watching someone else touch you.
No one could stop her, her seething body carving a path through the crowd like a knife through butter. No one even noticed her.
Besides Avery, in the corner of her eye. She could see Rue's wild curls blowing in the slight air flow, stiff shoulders shifting with her walk.
Her lip quirked up into a smirk, pulling off from your skin.
"Incoming."
Before you could process the word, before the tequila-soaked fog in your brain could catch up to what was happening, a hand closed around your wrist, familiar, calloused, urgent, and yanked you backward. You yelped, turning towards whoever had wrenched you off, but the breath was immediately stolen from your lungs.
Brown eyes. Lidded, but full of so much anger that it made your skin burn where they rested. Desperate, angry, jealous eyes that clearly screamed 'enough is enough.' You couldn't decide whether to swoon or to cry.
Rue's grip on your wrist was iron, her fingers pressed against your pulse point like she was counting the beats. She wasn't looking at Avery at all. She was looking at you, only at you, and the intensity of it made the tequila in your bloodstream feel like nothing. Like you'd never been drunk a day in your life. Like you were seeing everything in horrifying, perfect clarity.
"You're done here," Rue said, and her voice wasn't loud. It wasn't a shout. It was quiet and shaking and absolutely terrifying in its restraint. "You and me. Outside. Now."
"Rue."
"Now, Y/N."
Avery stepped forward, her brow furrowing. "Hey, relax."
"I wasn't talking to you," Rue snorted bitterly, turning slightly towards the girl who had her offensive lips all over you. "So shut the fuck up."
The words landed like a slap. Avery's eyebrows shot up, her calm composure finally cracking. For a moment, she looked like she might fire back, her jaw tightened, her hands curling at her sides, but then she glanced at you. At the way you were staring at Rue. At the way your pulse was fluttering under Rue's fingertips.
She raised her hands, stepping back.
"Will do."
Then, without another word, she sent you an amused glance and walked away.
You were now alone with the only person you didn't want to see. You felt the weight of her stare still, stirring up a storm in your chest.
"Outside." She repeated again, pulling you gently but firmly.
"No, I-"
"Nah," another laugh with absolutely no humor in it. "You're coming the fuck outside."
She was already moving, cutting a path toward the back door. You had no choice but to follow, stumbling slightly, the tequila still sloshing through your system and making everything feel unsteady.
You caught a glimpse of your friends as Rue dragged you past them. Maddy was already stepping forward, her expression darkening, clearly ready to intervene, but Kat grabbed her by the elbow and held her in place. Cassie's hand was pressed to her mouth, her wide blue eyes tracking you like you were a car crash she couldn't look away from.
Traitors, you thought bitterly. All of them.
And then the back door banged open, and the cold night air hit your face like a bucket of water.
The backyard was empty. The same string lights from earlier were still swaying gently in the breeze, casting their dim golden glow over the patchy grass and rusted patio furniture. The music from inside was muffled now, reduced to a distant, rhythmic thump. You could hear your own heartbeat. You could hear Rue's ragged breathing.
She finally released your wrist. She took a few steps away from you, her back turned, both hands coming up to rake through her wild curls. You could see the tension in her shoulders - rigid, practically vibrating -before she spun around to face you.
"What the fuck was that?"
The anger in her voice was a living thing, raw and bleeding. You'd seen Rue angry before, frustrated, annoyed, pissed at the world, but this was different. This was volcanic.
"What was what?" Your own voice came out unsteady, and you hated it.
"Don't." She pointed a shaking finger back toward the house. "Don't play dumb with me right now. You know exactly what I'm talking about."
You crossed your arms over your chest, a flimsy shield. "So what?"
"So what?" Rue laughed, but the sound was jagged and hollow. "So I've been texting you for a month. A whole fucking month. And you couldn't send me a single reply. Not one. I thought you hated me. I thought-" She broke off, swallowing hard. "But you show up here, drunk off your ass, and in five minutes you're about to make out with some random girl against a wall?"
"Her name is Avery, and she's not random. She's a senior. Transferred from two towns over. She smells nice and she thinks I'm beautiful and she's not my ex."
Rue's jaw tightened. "Low blow."
"Truth hurts." You shrugged, the tequila making you bold. "Besides, you're one to talk. You've been glued to Jules all night. She's practically draped over you in that corner. What's that about?"
"Jules is my friend."
"Right. Sure. Just a friend who looks at you like you hung the moon."
"She does not-" Rue stopped, her eyes narrowing. "Wait. Are you jealous?"
"No."
"You're totally jealous."
"I'm not jealous. I'm just pointing out the hypocrisy. You can spend all night with Jules, but the second someone talks to me, you go full caveman?"
"I didn't go full caveman."
"You literally yanked me away from her and told her to shut the fuck up."
Rue glared. "I wasn't talking to her. I was talking to you for the first time in a fucking month."
The words hit you square in the chest, knocking some of the wind out of your anger. Rue was standing there, her chest heaving, her dark eyes burning with something that wasn't just jealousy anymore. It was hurt. It was a month of silence and unanswered texts and sleepless nights, all bottled up and ready to explode.
"You could've talked to me any time," you said, your voice quieter now. "You could've found me. Cornered me at school. Shown up at my house."
"I did show up at your house. Three times. Your mom said you didn't want to see me."
"Because I didn't."
"Then what was I supposed to do?" Rue threw her hands up. "Break down your door? Kidnap you? I was trying to respect your space. Ali said-" She stopped, shaking her head. "Never mind."
"Ali said what?"
"Ali said I should give you time. That pushing you would only make it worse. If you wanted to talk, you'd come to me." She let out a bitter laugh. "But you didn't come to me. You came here, got stupid drunk, and then let some random girl put her hands all over you."
"Avery-"
"I don't care about Avery!" Rue's voice cracked. "I don't care about her name or where she transferred from or what she smells like. I care about you. I care that you've been ignoring me for a month, and I just can't get you out of my head. And now someone else is-"
She broke off, her jaw clenching so tight you could see the muscle jumping.
"Someone else is what?" you pressed.
"Touching you, and kissing you, and shit. And you're mine."
The words hung in the cold night air. Possessive. Fierce. Utterly, devastatingly Rue.
"I'm not yours," you said, but your voice came out weaker than you intended. "Not anymore."
"You sure about that?" She stepped closer, and suddenly the air between you felt electric. "Because you haven't pushed me away or told me to leave. You followed me out here, and now you're standing here looking at me."
"Rue."
"Like you want me to kiss you. So, do you?"
Your breath caught. "That's the tequila."
"Is it?" She whispered, looking down at you. "Or is it that you thought you could leave me and forget everything, and you can't?"
The question hung in the air between you, heavy and charged. Rue's eyes were unwavering, dark and searching, like she was trying to see straight through to the parts of you that you'd been hiding for a month.
You exhaled shakily.
"Why couldn't you let me? You know you're bad for me. You're bad for everyone, Rue." You accused, avoiding her eyes. Avoiding falling back in.
The accusation had no effect.
"I know." She didn't flinch. Didn't look away. Her voice was steady, even as her hands trembled at her sides. "I know I'm bad for you. I've known it since the day we met."
"Then why-"
"Because I'm selfish, too. Worst type of person." She stepped closer, and her hand found your chin, tilting your face up until you had no choice but to meet her eyes. "I'm selfish and I'm fucked up and I'm trying to be better, but I can't-I can't let you go. I tried. I tried to stay away. For a month. And it was the worst month of my life."
You gritted your teeth. Her face, desperate and sorry and intense, peering into yours with the same vibes that you fell in love with in the first place.
"I hate you." You whispered.
"I hate me too. But I love you. And I'm not letting you go."
“It’s not your choice to make. You don’t have the right to pretend it is.”
"Neither do you. Not really. Because if you wanted to leave, you would've done it already. If you wanted me gone, you would've shoved me off the second I grabbed you. But you didn't. You're still here. And I think it's because you hate me, yeah, but you love me more."
"Shut up."
She refused to, her firm hand still on your jaw.
"I'm clean. Thirty-four days clean," She said, her voice firm. Honest, for once. "I go to all my meetings and shit. Drug test any time Leslie says so."
Your eyes, glistening with a thin layer of gathering tears, analyzed her face for any sign of dishonesty, and for all signs of the truth. You sniffled, one tear dropping without your permission.
"Really?"
"Yeah." Her voice was firm. Unwavering. The voice of a woman on a mission to get the only thing she'd ever wanted back. "Not a long time, but it's the longest I've gone since I was, like, fourteen. Think about you more than the drugs. In a way," she laughed bitterly, wiping a tear from your cheek, "you leaving my ass is what kept me clean."
"That's not-" Your voice cracked. "That's not funny."
"I'm not joking." Her thumb swept across your cheekbone, catching another tear before it could fall. "All I can think about is you and how to make you come back. Don't give a fuck about drugs."
"That's too much pressure, Rue. I can't be the thing that keeps you sober. That's not fair."
"I know." She didn't look away. Didn't blink. "Ali says the same thing. Says I can't put my recovery on another person. Says I have to want it for myself or it won't stick." She exhaled shakily. "And I do. Want it for myself, I mean. Most days. But on the bad days - on the days when everything feels like shit and the meetings aren't helping and my brain won't shut up-on those days, I think about you. And it helps."
"Rue."
"I'm not saying you have to take me back. I'm not saying you're responsible for me. I'm just saying.." She swallowed hard. "I'm just saying you're the best thing that ever happened to me. And losing you was the worst thing. And I'd rather be clean and miserable than high and dead. Because at least if I'm clean, there's a chance."
The tears were falling freely now, yours and hers, mingling in the cold night air. Rue's hand was still on your jaw, her thumb still tracing back and forth across your cheekbone. She was trembling.
You laughed through a sniffle.
"I can't stand you. You can never stay away and let me heal."
"Let you heal?" Rue's voice was barely a whisper. "Let you move on and forget me? Maybe meet someone who doesn't come with a mile-long list of problems?"
"Yes. All of that."
"I tried." She admitted.
"It was supposed to be a clean break. That's why I didn't answer your texts or come to the hospital. I knew if I saw you, if I heard your voice, I'd cave. And I couldn't cave anymore, its killing both of us."
"But you're caving now."
"Because you grabbed me!" You shoved weakly at her chest, but there was no force behind it. "You couldn't just let me flirt with a pretty girl in peace. You had to storm over and go all caveman and remind me exactly why I fell for you in the first place."
"Was it the caveman thing?" A ghost of a smirk. "Because I can do that more often."
"Don't you dare."
"Kidding. Mostly." Her smirk faded, replaced by something softer. "If you tell me to leave, I'll go. I won't bother you anymore.. probably. I'll try. Again."
You stared at her. At the sharp jaw and the messy curls and the dark eyes that were still glistening. She meant it. You could see it in her face, the way she was bracing herself, preparing for rejection. She'd walk away if you asked her to. She'd actually do it.
And you realized, with terrifying clarity, that you didn't want her to.
"That's the problem," you whispered. "I don't want you to leave. I never wanted you to leave. I just wanted you to stop."
"Using."
"Breaking my heart."
"I know." She pressed her forehead against yours. "I know. And I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I'll be sorry for the rest of my life. But I'm clean and I'm really trying. And I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to."
"Stay."
"Yeah?"
"Stay. One more time." You fisted your hands in the front of her hoodie. "But you're on thin ice, Bennett."
"I know."
"And you're not allowed to relapse."
"I know."
"And you have to stop chewing on your hoodie strings. It's disgusting."
With a snort and a mumble that sounded like disagreement, she laced her fingers through yours and tugged you toward the side gate. "Come on. I'll make tea. Leslie bought that weird herbal stuff you like."
"You hate that tea."
"I'll drink it anyway. For you."
"That's... disgustingly romantic."
"I'm a disgustingly romantic person."
"You told a girl to shut the fuck up like twenty minutes ago."
"She had her hands and crusty ass lips on my girlfriend."
"I'm not your girlfriend yet."
Rue stopped walking and turned to look at you, her eyebrow arched.
"You're coming home with me, you told me to stay, and I actually never admitted to anyone that we broke up." She ticked the points off on her fingers. "I'm pretty sure you're my girlfriend."
"I'm your tentative girlfriend."
"Tentative girlfriend." She tested the words, a slow grin spreading across her face. "I'll take it. Seal it with a kiss?" She quirked an eyebrow, her hands reaching out again to cup your face.
She was close before you even realized it, her nose brushing yours.
"You're so-"
"Charming? Romantic? The love of your life?"
"Annoying. I was going to say annoying."
"That too." Her thumb traced your cheekbone, feather-light. "So? Do I get to seal it or what?"
You should have made her wait. Should have made her work for it. But she was standing there with her messy curls and her stupid smirk and her thirty-four day chip heavy in her pocket, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world worth looking at.
"Fine," you breathed. "One kiss."
"One kiss," she agreed.
She leaned in. Her lips brushed yours, soft, almost tentative, like she was giving you one last chance to change your mind. When you didn't pull away, she deepened the kiss, her hands sliding from your jaw into your hair, tilting your head back. A small sound escaped your throat, and you felt her smile against your mouth.
"Missed that sound," she murmured.
"Shut up."
"Make me."
So you did. You kissed her again, harder this time, your fingers twisting in the front of her hoodie, your hoodie, and pulling her closer. She made a surprised noise, then melted into it, one hand dropping to your waist, the other still tangled in your hair. The streetlight flickered overhead. The cold nipped at your cheeks. But Rue was warm, and solid, and here, and that was all that mattered.
The door flew open. You yanked yourselves apart, eyes wide.
Maddy, a manicured hand on her waist and knowing eyes dissecting the situation. Her glossy lips curled into a smirk that was equal parts triumphant and terrifying.
"I knew it," she announced, loud enough for the whole block to hear. "I fucking knew it. Cassie owes me twenty dollars."
"Maddy." You pleaded.
"Don't." She held up a single finger, the acrylic tip glittering under the porch light. "Don't even try to explain. Rue had her tongue down your throat and you look pathetically guilty. You're back together."
"Tentatively," you muttered.
"Tentatively my ass. You're standing in the backyard at midnight making out like the world's ending. I'm not stupid."
You were silenced immediately, a sheepish smile on your face.
"And you." She turned her razor-sharp gaze on Rue. "Fuck up again and I'll key your car. I love you, but I love my bitch more."
"Noted," Rue said, her voice impressively steady for someone facing down Maddy Perez in full protective-friend mode. "But.. I don't have a car."
Maddy's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Then I'll key your face."
"That's... not how keying works."
"Try me, Bennett." She stepped forward, jabbing a manicured finger toward Rue's chest. "I will find a way. I'm very creative."
"I know you are." Rue's voice was steady, but you could feel her hand trembling slightly in yours. "And I'm not gonna give you a reason to get creative. I swear."
Maddy stared at her for a long, tense moment. The backyard was silent except for the distant thump of bass from inside and the rustle of the string lights swaying in the breeze. Then, slowly, her expression shifted. The sharp edges softened, just a fraction, just enough.
"I'm happy for you guys. If you're happy," She said, smiling a little. Then, she waved a manicured hand. "Now, go fuck or something."
With that, she disappeared back through the back door, flicking her hair over her shoulder - the sign of a job well done by Maddy Perez. The night air got a little chillier, a little darker.
You stood there for a moment, stunned into silence, the ghost of Maddy's exit still hanging in the air.
"Did she just.." Rue started.
"Give us her blessing? I think so."
"In the most Maddy way possible."
"Is there any other way?"
Rue laughed, that real laugh, bright and surprised and still a little shaky around the edges. "I guess not." She turned to you, her dark eyes softening. "So. What now? We take her suggestion, or we go drink tea?" She smirked.
You felt heat rise to your cheeks. "She said go fuck, Rue."
cw: fem!reader, reader is wearing a bikini, established relationship, smut, grinding/dry humping, Luffy is the only one who orgasms, no penetration, Luffy is kind of a perv(?), public sex (you don't get caught), Luffy licks his own cum at some point, not proofread
CONTAINS NSFW, MINORS DNI
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The Thousand Sunny had docked at a small island, being thoroughly examined by Usopp through the crow's nest to determine that there was no marines or monsters hidden beyond the shoreline before they got changed and dropped the gangplank to spread out on the sand.
You had chosen a more secluded spot, more away from everyone. While you did love the crew, sometimes you just wanted time to yourself away from all the antics. Still, you had brought sunscreen with you to protect yourself from the harsh sun radiating above your head in the cloudless sky, lest you wanted Chopper to scold you while crying about damaging your skin… or something along those lines.
The little getaway you had planned was not lonely for long as your captain, who seemed to have a radar for anything that had to do with you, found you. He lets out a happy noise, tearing through the sand to get to you. You huffed, looking up at him as he slowed to a stop right in front of you, his bare chest heaving in excitement. At least he was considerate enough to not get sand all over you.
"There you are!" He cheered, his thumb pointing back to where the rest of the crew was, already partially turned like he was going to run again, "I was lookin' for ya! Usopp and Chopper and Franky are buildin' sandcastles! Come see!"
You sighed, looking past him where he was pointing to before your gaze fell back on him, shaking your head, "I wanted to be alone for a bit," You had explained briefly, which caused a worried little frown to adorn his face. He crouched down in front of you, tilting his head confusedly.
"How come?" He whined, leaning forwards a bit, "It's borin' without you!"
"Just wanted some alone time."
He huffed, partially offended by your declaration. You decide to appease to him before he threw a tantrum, "You can stay with me. I need help with my sunscreen anyway," You shrugged, laying down on your belly on the towel you had brought. You reach behind you, untying the bikini strap to give him full access, "Can't reach."
Any complaint he had died down as he stared at your bare back, "O-Oh. Okay," He mumbles quietly, grabbing the bottle of sunscreen. He made a face at it, not really liking the feel of the slightly slippery bottle as he shifted it from hand to hand. He makes a sound, thinking about how he could do this.
He could be a normal person and just stay kneeling beside you, lather your back up with the cream, and move on with his day. But he wasn't normal.
You inhale in slight shock as he straddled your thighs, seated right behind your ass. He admires you beneath him for a moment, humming in satisfaction before he turns the bottle upside-down, his tongue poking out in concentration as he squirts a massive glob of sunscreen right onto your back. You jerk beneath him at the feeling.
"Not that much, you bastard!"
"Eep-!"
You could only sigh as he giggled an apology, tossing the bottle aside as he leaned forwards, his big hands splayed on your back as he slowly rubs the cream in. You shudder as the cool sunscreen spreads along your back, trying to ignore the fact that his crotch was pressed right up against you.
Luffy huffed, though it seemed to trail into a groan as you shuddered beneath him, "Don't move,' He grits out, his voice a bit lower than usual. You huffed at his audacity to be bossy right now, but your bratty retort fell short when you could feel his dick starting to harden against you, his breathing changing as he feels hot and heavy on top of you, his hands slowing down their motions as he squeezes his eyes shut. He gave one experimental grind, nearly collapsing on top of you as he did, panting as he waits for your reaction.
"You… You can continue," You mutter in embarrassment, clutching the towel beneath you. You weren't complaining, but you should have known that asking him for help in a secluded area would lead to this.
"Fuuuuck… M'sorry, hehe. Y're jus' sooo pretty," He giggles breathlessly, his hips slowly starting to buck against your ass, grinding his clothed, rigid length along your curves, "Can't help m'self when y're around…" His head tilted back with a groan, sucking his bottom lip through his teeth as his hips repeatedly press into yours.
You moan softly while he pleasures himself, even if you aren't really getting any stimulation from it, it was still incredibly hot to hear him panting and groaning behind you with each slow thrust of his hips, feeling him twitch and shudder each time the head of his cock catches just right from inside of his swim trunks. He shifts on his knees, grunting in annoyance as he tries to find the right angle that was most pleasurable to him.
He finds it after a few seconds, the tent of his shorts settling between your ass, more towards your lower back than anything as he resumes humping you. He grunts with a particularly rough thrust, gasping when it shifts his trunks down and over his cock, freeing it from where it was contained. He blinks a few times, staring down at his twitching cock as it rested against the small of your back, leaking precum onto the sunscreen he just applied in desperate spurts.
"Luffy..?" You question curiously, though he just huffs as his hands settle on your ribcage, gripping tightly but not enough to hurt. You hear him whine, mixed with a small growl, behind you as he puts more force into his thrusts, moaning loudly and shamelessly as his cock slides against the slick sunscreen on your back, not caring if it wasn't good to have the solution on his throbbing length.
"S'good! Damn!" He whines, his hips never faltering as he uses your lower back for his pleasure, chasing an elusive high, so close yet so far from his crew that was having fun just beyond a shallow tree line that gave you just a small bit of privacy from them. That didn't matter to him right now, all that mattered was you and the feeling that was shooting through his spine each time his cock slid against you. His arousal grew hotter with each slick sound, the sunscreen mixing with the precum leaking copiously from his tip. He was having way more fun, he bet.
In all reality it was kind of gross to you, but it doesn't mean you were repulsed by it. The feeling of his sunscreen getting mixed with his precum was making a sticky mess on your back, and you squirm at the cooling feeling. He grumbles, holding you down tighter as he glides his cock through the mess. "Don't- haaah- don't move," He tells you, his thighs trembling in pleasure. You barely liked sunscreen on your skin, so you can imagine that- once the heat in his body died down- he was likely going to complain about it on his cock.
He was desperate now, rapidly chasing his pleasure as he grunts and groans, one hand letting go of your side briefly to wipe away the drool leaking from his mouth before returning to your side. Really, at this rate what was one more body fluid coating your back. Your sweat, his sweat, his precum… It all blended into one and made a slick mess for him to grind his cock through. He loved it, he loved you.
"Gonna- ngghhh- haha!" He laughs breathlessly, his cock twitching needily against your back, "G'na cum! C-Can't… Ohhh god!" He whines, his hips picking up speed as he ruts against your back with wild abandon, panting as sweat drips from his hair from the exertion. His hands tighten, holding you as still as possible as his cock slams against your back in two more hard thrusts before he stills. His eyes rolled back with a long groan, his cock spurting thick lines of cum along your back, mixing with the sunscreen.
He pants as he comes down from his high, his grip easing as he just sits on top of you with his twitching cock resting against your spine. He blinks blearily, staring at the mess he made along your back as he leans down. His tongue pokes out, only getting a drop of his spend in his mouth before he recoiled, "Blegh! Why'd they make it smell like bananas if it doesn't taste like it!?"
You sigh in exasperation beneath him, "Shut up and clean me already," You complain, feeling the mess on your back beginning to dry. He grumbles petulantly, something about liking his work, before his arm stretches out and through the tree lines. An indignant "Oi!" echoes in the air, likely from Zoro, as Luffy blindly grabbed a towel and brought it back.
With an overly dramatic sigh, he wipes down his cock before cleaning your back, tossing the messy fabric to the side once he deemed you clean enough. Though, he still didn't move.
You blink, "You… can move now."
A thoughtful hum escaped him, "hhrrmm… But I wiped your sunscreen off! Y'need more now.." he mumbles, and you can feel his cock twitch against your back again.
Tell Me A Truth and a Lie | Simon / John Q (Dinner in America)
⛓ - simon x afab! reader
⛓ - word count: 3k
⛓ - cw: intercrural, p in v, afab!reader, cunnilingus, blowjob, breakup, hurt/comfort, overstimulation ✨
⛓ - credits: dividers by @pixopix
⛓ - summary: reader is picking up the pieces of their failing relationship. simon closely watches and gives them what they've always wanted.
"Hey bug."
Simon walks over from his room, into the living room. You hadn't even realized he was home. He saunters over, stops by the end of the couch and fiddles with the lighter that was wedged between the cushions. Absentmindedly flicking again and again. Scrape, scrape, scrape.
"Wanna watch Army of Darkness and veg out on the couch tonight?"
He looks up at you. Scrape. He looks like a child. Eager and docile. These occurrences are so rare you feel hesitant to reveal you already have plans for the night. Plans that you don't feel entirely thrilled to have.
"Shit, Simon. I can't tonight. I'm going out soon."
Scrape. The child is gone. His face falls into a scoff.
"Boo. What the hell could be more important than a night in with me?" He smirks.
You hate when he does that.
There was a time in which you were, heaven to Betsy, crazy about Simon. Though that time has bled into every present moment with him, there are walls between you that he's carefully constructed. Safe to say, he didn't share the same infatuation. At least that's what he's led you to believe.
To you, he had feigned innocence and care. Told you that you deserved better than him. That he could never be the kind of guy that could give you what you wanted. What you needed.
He meant it, truly believing himself to be unworthy of someone like you. But how could you possibly know that?
You often wondered if it would hurt more or less to hear that he simply just wasn't attracted to you in any capacity.
You shake your head in annoyance, a visage of playfulness covering the genuine irritation and melancholy. It was cruel. Sometimes it was like he was dangling your infatuation with him above your head. Taunting you with his sweet eyes and teasing charm.
Would he even think enough about you to play with you like that? You think not.
It certainly didn't make matters any easier that the outing you were getting ready for was to meet up with your boyfriend. Or that you couldn't seem to make this relationship work (through no fault of your own) despite numerous efforts. Or that Simon has witnessed the beginning and present of this relationship develop and morph with little reaction.
"I'm meeting up with Pete."
Scrape. Scrape.
"Haven't seen that guy in a bit," he states with a shrug, "thought maybe you two were done."
Scrape.
"He has something special planned." You defend, trying to slip some enthusiasm in there somewhere. If you were asked which you's rather be doing tonight - slouching on a couch with Simon, or a 'special' night out with Pete - you were certain your answer would be immediate. You itched imagining yourself with Pete.
Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.
"Somethin' special, huh?" He can't help but chuckle under his breath. Save for the very first time you'd brought this guy home, he had never seen you so completely down in the dumps for so long before. It was really pissing him off. Not at you of course, and that was the problem. You were an angel in every sense of the word, just damn sweet to the core and great to be around. He couldn't imagine anyone treating you with anything but care. And yet this fucking random guy swoops you up just to make you feel like shit every other week. Shit made his skin crawl. And he thought he would be a shitty boyfriend.
Scrape.
"Well... another time then?" He offers a smirk, then tosses the lighter he'd been fiddling with on the couch. It lands on the cushion next to you.
"Yeah, catch you later." You sigh, letting out a longer breath than you had intended.
As much as you loved him, and mostly because you did, speaking to Simon was the last thing you wanted to do right now. You scrambled around the apartment, absentmindedly 'getting ready' while lost in thought. You needed to fix this relationship. Needed to show Simon that you could be happy with just being friends. To prove to yourself that you were worthy of a loving relationship.
You were completely unaware of Simon's lingering in the living room to observe you. Seeing you this way is painful. He wishes he could make things better. Overwhelmed by the thought of sitting you down, hands on your shoulders to ground you, and coax your anxious mind with stupid jokes and sweet snacks until you were soft and tender again. That was his favorite.
Those nights you were both perched on the couch with a family sized bag of chips, knees rested against the others, and heavy eyelids. When it felt like just the two of you existed in the world.
He watched you put your shoes on and leave without saying goodbye.
You sat at the bar Pete had sent you the address to. Music blaring in your ears. Surely this was just the meeting point? Didn't feel like somewhere you'd spend an nice and intimate night together.
Your phone flicked on and off in your hands several times over as time passed, fingers restlessly swiping up and across with no real goal just to click off again.
Ten minutes. Fifteen.
By twenty the bartender starts to glare at you for taking up a stool. You order a beer just to appease.
When he finally rushes in, Pete leans down and kisses your cheek.
"Sorry, sorry. Traffic."
"It's okay," you brush off automatically.
"Whatcha drinking?" He gestures over.
You hold up the bottle to answer.
"Nice. You get me one too?" He asks. His phone dings and his attention drops with it, slipping away easily.
You nod, even though he isn't looking at you. You try to engage.
"Hey, I'm glad you asked to see me...," you start. He's still locked onto his screen, scrolls, scrolls, starts texting, "I wasn't sure where you were at lately..."
He grunts in affirmation and nods like he's listening. His thumbs tapping away at the screen.
"Are you listening to me?"
"Huh?" He finally glances up, a quick flicker that hesitates to return to you. "Yeah, yeah. Keep going."
The words stall out, his eyes magnetized to his screen. He has to lock the screen to finally give you the light of day.
You switch gears, go easy first. "So what the plan for tonight?"
His face lights up and for a second - just a second - you think maybe this is it. Maybe this time would be different.
"I've been texting the guys," he says, grinning, "and they know this really cool spot downtown where they want to show me-"
You blink, oh. You feel hollowed out. He continues rambling as you stare past him, seeing everything all at once.
Every rescheduled plan.
Every apology you made first.
Every time you told yourself it wasn't a big deal. That you were fine. That you just needed to relax.
You cut in, "I thought you said you had something special planned."
His eyes roll.
"I mean, yeah, that was it." He gestures vaguely with his phone. "Why are you making it a thing?"
You stare at him for a second. Wait from him to hear how he sounds and clarify. He doesn't.
"I'm not making it a thing, Pete. I just thought we were spending the night together. Like... actually together. Alone."
He exhales through his nose.
"God, you always do this."
He's already halfway gone from the bar stool, he shifts around in annoyance.
"I always do what, Pete?" You push in genuine confusion.
"You turn everything into a fucking problem. It's supposed to be a fun night and your- i don't know...picking it apart."
"I'm not picking it apart, I'm just trying to understand what you want from me. With me."
"See? That! That's exactly what I mean."
Eyes lower down to look at your beer, you run your fingernail against the lip of it.
Scrape. Scrape.
"You make everything heavier than it is. We're just hanging out and having a little bit of fun together, right?"
Scrape.
"I don't think I'm asking for anything heavy," you say. "I just want to feel like you actually want me here. I just want you to see something more in me than just a fuck buddy because that's what this is starting to feel like."
"Come on, you know that's not true."
"I'm telling you that's how I feel, Pete. I feel so fucking stupid for trying so hard to make this something more when you only come around when it's convenient for you."
"No," he cuts immediately, "That's not fair. You make it sound like I'm using you or something."
"I don't think your using me" you sigh, "I just think you want me without having to... hold me."
The silence after is muffled by music booming in the background.
He doesn't really follow that, but he's heard enough to feel cornered. And instead of sitting with it or easing your worries or confronting your pain with clarity he pulls away.
"I don't think this is gonna work out for me then."
You blink.
"What?"
He nods like he's confirming it to himself more than to you.
"Yeah. I mean, I like you, but this... you constantly needing stuff from me. It's just not what I want right now."
Scrape. You let the words echo in your head for a bit. Feel stupid when your eyes glaze over like you weren't expecting this. Enraged and disappointed at yourself for not being the one to end it first.
"I think we should just stop here," he adds casually, "before it gets messy."
You almost laugh, feeling crazy in the midst of the mess he's made in your head. In your heart. He can't see it though. Won't see it.
He watches you for a reaction, making sure its contained, then stands from his stool.
"You're not mad right?" He checks.
You look up at him with despair. Marveling at how easy it was for him to just check out. How little it took for him to be done with you as if you were just some prop in his life. You hope the light's are dim enough to hide your eyes.
"No."
It doesn't feel negotiable even if you were. It's done.
"Okay," he says, relieved, "I'll text you later about your stuff."
And then he's gone.
Simon hears keys clank in the door.
He shoots upright from where he'd slumped into the couch, half-asleep with some miscellaneous cartoon murmuring in the background of his thoughts. He hates falling asleep before you're home. Can't. Not until he knows you're safe.
He rubs his eyes hard, vision glittering before clearing to see you.
You're frozen just by the doorway, tear streaks down your cheeks. When your eyes lock with his, something in you cracks.
You turn away quickly, unwilling to see pity bloom across his face.
He didn't want you. And now nobody did.
Simon is on his feet before you can gather yourself. He closes the distance in a few strides, hands landing on your shoulders. Firm and grounding.
He wants to ask how it went. Where Pete was. What he did.
"...what happened?"
You struggle against the lump against your throat, quickly swiping at the fresh streaks of tears on your cheeks. Tired of crying. Tired of feeling small.
"We broke up."
Simon's jaw tightens.
"Yeah?"
You nod.
The low hum of the apartment - the old fridge, the whirl of the box fan in Simon's room, the TV - feels louder somehow. Too domestic and strange. Too intimate. It undoes you completely.
"I just..." your voice wobbles humiliatingly, "He didn't want to do it anymore."
He guides you to the couch, hands holding you steady as if you might fall over.
You sit. He sits close. The silence stretches.
Simon drags a hand over his mouth, cogs turning. You save him the breath.
"I think I expected it to be different. I keep thinking if I just tried hard enough it would just...click."
"You shouldn't have to try that hard," Simon mutters.
You shrug weakly. "I don't know how not to."
"Well, fuck, kid, you drag him around and wait on him all the damn time like he's a toddler."
"I know. Okay? I know..." Your voice cracks again. "I know."
His anger falters immediately. Never meant for you to begin with.
He shakes his head.
"...You deserve to be taken care of."
You're muted in thought. Silence thickening.
There's something building behind his ribs, something he's been holding back for a long time. You can see it in the way he won't quite meet your eyes now.
"You shouldn't have to beg someone to show up for you," he resolves. "You shouldn't have to twist yourself into something easier. Or smaller."
Your throat tightens. The urge to defend yourself compelling you to speak.
"I'm not-"
"You are," he cuts in, sharper than he means to. Then softer, "You do."
He leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in an effort to contain himself.
"I've seen it, seen you." He admits. "Every time you get back from seeing him, you look like you've been wrung out."
Your breath stutters, eyes locked onto his now.
"I kept thinking," he continues, low and steady, "if I just waited it out, you'd see it for yourself. You'd see how bullshit this guy is. That I don't get to say shit because I already had my chance and I gave it up."
The air shifts into something more raw. Exposed.
"I thought," he gulps, "if you were happy, then that was enough."
His voice cracks slightly on the last word, he hates that it does.
"But you weren't," he says. "You're not."
You're suddenly aware of how close he is. The heat from his knee brushing against yours.
"Simon..."
"I don't want you smaller," he blurts. "I don't want you tired or disappointed or looking at the door like your some goddamn puppy waiting to be picked from the litter. And it fucking kills me to watch you try so hard for someone who doesn't see you the way I do."
He can't seem to stop this confessional he's created in your living room. His hand lifts slightly. He wants to touch your face but isn't sure he's allowed.
"I see you," he says, barely above a whisper. "All of it. But you don't have to give like that with me."
His thumb brushes the tears from your cheeks and this is how you know just what he's saying. What it all means.
"I know I fucked it up," he confirms, "the first time." He keeps swiping at your cheeks gently with his thumb. Praying you know what it means.
He's here. He's here now.
Please don't let it be too late.
Your shimmering eyes flick from his eyes to his lips and back up again. Calculating the possibility of this. All of it. And everything in between. You don't get very far.
Simon's lips are on yours in an instant. He can taste the salt of sorrow and sweet of your chapstick. Like cookie dough. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip. Teeth clicking against each other.
Your eyebrows knit together. His hair scratching at your lip as you swipe the bottom of his lip with your tongue.
A gasp leaves you as his lips depart quickly. Pulling back in shock.
You ease his worry by pulling him in again. Your heart fluttering so hard you're afraid you'll faint. You're hands shoot out to his neck, grounding yourself. This was all you'd ever wanted.
"I need you," you whisper between kisses. There's panic and hope and desire and joy swirling around in your chest like a storm.
"Fuck." He rasps. Keeps kissing you like he's hungry. Starving. "What do you need. Tell me."
"Wanna taste you," you plead. Tugging on his sweats, you kneel.
He reaches out as if to pull you back up, wanting to give you what you want first. What you've deserved all this time. But you just give and give and give.
You can't help it.
"Please?" You peer up at him with wet lashes.
How can he say no?
He settles a hand on your head, fingers threading through your hair. You shiver. Your hands shake a little while undoing the knot on Simon's pants. The buldge in his briefs makes your mouth water.
You ground yourself at his hips.
Trace the line that maps its way down, down, down with your fingers until your gripping the base of his cock in your hand. Start with slow and steady strokes.
His skin calls to you. You stroke faster as he lets out more noise. Small grunts and gasps of 'yeah' and 'just like that'. You press kisses on his hip and can't help the draw to tongue the tip of his dick. Licking slow circles before wrapping your mouth around him.
Simon's head falls back.
You moan as you swallow him down, bobbing further and faster just to hear him. Just to feel him grasp your hair tighter.
Bites his lip to keep his mouth closed, eyes squeezed shut. It does him no good. Needing the oxygen to keep himself from losing it. His uneven breaths leave him moaning dry and desperate.
"Oh. Fuck~ wait. Mmh. Wait, wait." He pulls away, a hand on your cheek pushing you off gently. His voice cracks in pleasure. "Need you to stop for me doll."
He catches his breath, breathing through the edge to come back down. Doesn't wanna cum too soon.
"Was that okay?" Your eyes flick up as you wipe spit of the side of your lip.
"No trust me, I was-" he stammers, "You did so fucking well. I just..."
Your lips tingle. Your body vibrates.
"...I can't cum this early when I haven't even tasted you yet."
Oh.
Nobody had ever offered to do that before.
He smirks. "Take these off for me." He tugs at your pants.
He's already helping you, pulling down after you unbutton your pants. Wiggling to get them off, your underwear coming off with them leaving you feeling embarrassingly exposed.
He runs his hands over your thighs, up towards your knee and back down again. Eyes wandering all over. "Fuck you look so good."
Your heart thuds against your chest as he kisses your knee. Trailing slowly down to the soft skin of your inner thigh, a bloom of lust spreading to your core. You swallow hard as his lips meet your folds.
"Simon," you purred. His tongue flicks against your clit, then runs slow circles around it. He sucks and spreads your lips apart with his fingers to glide his tongue down towards your entrance.
Your back arches, your hips grinding down onto his tongue as he laps at you. The hum of his moans making you lose yourself more and more.
He pulls away for breath. "Taste so fucking sweet," licks and wipes his mouth of your arousal, "So perfect." His face is flushed.
He pushes your trembling legs together so that your thighs touch. Slides himself between the plump skin of your inner thighs. In and out.
You're eyes greedily switching between the bliss on his face and the tip of his cock peeking out from between your legs with every thrust. He's making sounds like you've never heard before and you squeeze your legs tighter in need.
"Fuck doll, you feel so good. So fucking perfect for me." He groans. One hand is resting on your knee, the other kneading the skin on your hips.
You both whine in need and suddenly he's shoving your legs back apart. His hard cock springing down along with you both as he wraps an arm around you. Slides you under him before he positions himself in line with your wet slit. The sweet velvet of you making his head drop against your chest. He pushes in.
You exhale. Partly from bliss and partly from the stretch. It's, unfortunately been a while since you had been intimate with anyone. The gap had made this all the more blissful and intense.
His hand glides up to your chest, marking his touches with hungry pecks at your skin. You clench around him as he sinks deeper, drunk with need.
"I know, baby. I got you." His lips catch yours again as he eases himself in. Slow and steady. Too slow.
Your legs wrap around his waist and you draw him in quicker, needing him to fill you up. Needing to feel him closer. He grunts as he bottoms out and your making sweet sounds in his ear. Sets a steady pace that leaves you dizzy.
The room echoes with rasped breaths and gasps mixed with the creak of the couch against the wooden floor.
He pulls one leg closer to his shoulder and the angle makes you choke. His hips snap into yours, chasing the heat thats building in his groin. Chasing the noises you make when he fucks into you harder that break down all words to sputtering.
"Ah~ fuck. yes," your cries endless strings of pleasure. Your nails dig into his back to ground yourself as you frantically edge closer and closer to edge.
"You're doing so fucking amazing doll. Taking it so fucking good for me." He rumbles against your ear, his arm now under your knee as he keeps pounding into you.
"You gonna come for me baby?" He rasps. You nod ceaselessly.
"So close, Simon. Please."
Hitting your g-spot over and over, you cry out as waves of electricity wash over you. He fucks you through it with tender praises. Takes his thumb and rubs your clit over and over until the faded bliss becomes pain.
thats it baby. fuck. there we go. so fucking good. can't believe it.
The tight velvet of your pussy clenching around him as you sob at the overstimulation sends him over the edge. He tenses deep inside of you, spilling into you with a strangled groan before his sweaty forehead comes to rest against your chest.
You lay tangled in a mess of sweat and heat, both catching your breath.
"Shit." He exhales into your neck.
You reel back in worry to look at him. He's smirking.
"Should've done that a long time ago."
⛓ - notes: currently looking for a beta reader :) - also, I am pretty much finished with my MA program so will have so much more time to write! Still open to requests but this is mostly just for fun atp since not a ton of people see these anyway lol. DM if interested and send requests for more fics pretty please :3
Yay! Ok, so i would love 76 from the smut prompts with walter. Maybe reader is like his new younger wife/gf or something. Thank you 💕
You got it babe ! This is so hot 🤤
“You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck.”
Walt and his younger bimbo bratty GF
Walter white didn’t think he’d find love again this late in his life and especially not with someone so young. He wasn’t complaining in the slightest; you were almost everything that Skyler wasn’t. Soft, understanding and he didn’t feel the need to lie to you. Well not as much as he was/is lying to Skyler. You took every curveball he threw at you and it didn’t hurt that you were half his age and smoking hot.
He had charmed you easily and now had you wrapped around his finger. Doesn’t mean you didn’t try to push the limits to see what you could get away with. Walt was on the phone in his new apartment; you had stayed over and awoken to an empty bed. You walk into the living room and see your man talking to probably Pinkman. You slink over to him and place a hand on his shoulder, he acknowledges you with a smile and mouths ‘sorry’ to you. You shrug and wave him off with a smile.
You were patient for about half an hour and than you started getting antsy. You psychically start moving Walt’s thick arms so you could sit in his lap as he worked. You were pretty sure he was talking to Saul now. You could tell he was already irritated so sitting in his lap wasn’t exactly the smartest move. You start peppering kisses on his neck and places hands on his chest. He shot you a warning look and you just bat your lashes at him and just shift your hips experimentally and he covers a groan with a cough as he continues to talk on the phone.
He grabs your hip and holds you still. “Saul. Give me a second. I have to deal with something” he grumbles and Sets his cell down. “Sweetheart.” He warns and you tilt your head to the side in a coy fashion. You love pushing his buttons; you guys were pretty new so it was always an experiment of how much you could get away with. He laces his fingers in your hair and yank lightly with a small surprised moan escaping your lips. He watches you for a moment; you are clad in just panties and an old T-shirt for a band he thinks he saw Jesse wear one time. You looked so pretty like this; you were so pliant for him, so obedient. Well most of the time. When he thinks you will behave he picks up the phone again; you get up and he thinks it’s over. He straightens up in his chair thinking he’d won and then you sink down in front of him.
Before you could even go to touch him you were being yanked up by your wrist and dragged roughly into the other room. Walt was still on the phone at this point but covered the ear piece so Saul couldn’t hear. He yanks you by the hair against his surprisingly hard body; he growls in your ear his breathe warm on your neck “You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck.” You lean your head back against his shoulder as he stares at you distracted, you grabbed the phone out of his hand and close it. Without missing a beat he pushes you against the counter, your panties on display now as your shirt rides up.
“You little fucking brat.” He says and you have a smirk painted on your face. This was all part of the game both of you played. You liked being the bratty younger girlfriend of a very smart but dark man. He took care of you though and could be very sweet. This was not one of those times though but you weren’t mad about it. He starts rubbing the soft sensitive skin of your inner thighs but ignoring your pussy which was basically throbbing at his point. You whine softly and you hear him chuckle obviously enjoying making you squirm. He roughly pulls your panties down and you can hear him pull out his cock; you try and shift to get a better look but he holds you down against the cold kitchen counter with one hand. He leans down to whisper something in your ear; bracing for it to be demeaning but instead you were met with “my pretty girl.” He says in a hushed tone and enters your tight pussy.
Walt was very well endowed so it was always a tight fit, he placed a comforting hand on the small of your back as he fills you completely. You whimper but he doesn’t care, he’s relentless with his hips slamming into you. It felt unlike anything you’ve ever felt. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against him as he continues to fill you up again and again. He watches as his cock disappears into your tight heat; he moans out freely. His thick hand wraps around your throat “you know what you do to me. Such a needy girl.” He growls and you nod “can’t even wait for me to finish working. You gotta be slutty huh?” He asks as he fucks you so hard your hip bones meeting the cold of the counter roughly. You knew he was gonna leave bruises and you relished in the feeling. All that came out of your mouth was wanton moans and whimpers, especially with his hand still wrapped around your throat. You loved letting him use your body like this; he pulls out removing his body from you completely. Before you could complain he helps you onto the counter and pulls you onto his cock again. You kissed each other for the first time since he started fucking you and you hold onto him as he starts rubbing your clit furiously and you whimper into his mouth and he starts talking again “I’m so close.. want to feel you cum around my cock you dirty fucking whore” you did as your much older boyfriend asked and squeezed around his cock. He kept pounding relentlessly as you milk his cock dry and he moans into your shoulder as he holds you close.
As he cleans you up and runs his hands over your now naked body he looks sheepish. You raise an eyebrow at him and he sighs “was calling you a dirty whore too much?” He asks and you snort out a laugh “it was a new one for sure.” You say and rub his shoulder lovingly “it was good. You were good” you whisper and place a gentle kiss on his cheek
A/N: this is LONG and soooo self indulgent I’m sorry
Warnings: nsfw!
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You started dating Nacho after being repeatedly thrown in to deal with the Salamancas and their troubles by your boss Saul Goodman, which resulted in you and Nacho spending quite a lot of time together
He fell in love when he realized how similar the two of you were, like two sides of the same coin, and it only made him want to protect you forever
He’s quiet with you, but you’re his peace. The only time he’s able to fully relax is in your arms
He’s incredibly patient and protective with you, wanting to shield you from any of his criminal dealings, even though that’s technically how you met
Despite most of his life being taken up by what he does, he makes time for you whenever he can. He loves taking you for long night drives, going far into the desert away from everything where you can be all alone together with the stars
Constantly reminds you how beautiful you are to him, not in a cringe sappy way but he genuinely thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on
Compliments you in Spanish and it makes your heart swell
He’s so gentle with you, almost to the point of frustration when you wish he was rougher at certain times. You practically have to beg him for it, promising him over and over that he won’t hurt you
If he ever has a particularly bad day, you’re the only thing on his mind and all he can think about is getting home to his love
The second he walks in the door, he’s melting into you, burying his face in your hair, inhaling your scent, holding you like you belong to him
On days he doesn’t have to work, all he wants is to sleep late with you, enjoy the slowness, the peace. Since he doesn’t get to see you as regularly as someone with a normal job, and he never knows for sure what might be his last day with you, he cherishes every single moment you’re together
You adore his big puppy eyes, they’re your favorite part of him. Warm amber brown, framed with long, dark, fluffy lashes that you’re borderline jealous of. Almost burnt orange when the sun hits them, and the way they darken a little before he kisses you
He smells warm, you can’t quite pinpoint the scent. It’s a mix of leather, smokiness, caramel, spice, bourbon. Just an intoxicating smell that you’re absolutely addicted to
He’s significantly taller than you, and your favorite thing is when he picks you up into his arms, your head buried in his shoulder and arms clasped around his neck, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. You giggle when he goes about his day like this, making coffee or doing household tasks with you latched on to him.
His calm demeanor is life saving when you’re stressed, which is often. Being a paralegal isn’t the easiest job out there, much less so working for Saul Goodman. There are many nights you’ll lie awake, worrying about a case and what it means for you and your job. But Nacho’s always there for you, reassuring you softly, and holding you tight. He makes you feel safe, like even if something goes wrong, he’s always there to catch you.
Loves when you scratch his back, he finds it so soothing. He’ll literally lay on top of you for hours and even fall asleep as you gently stroke his back with your nails, up and down. You don’t mind, you’re just happy that he can finally relax. And the crushing weight of him on top of you does wonders for your anxiety. When you need him to wake up, you very gently tickle his armpits and then pretend like nothing happened when he jolts awake.
If ever you’re stressed, can’t sleep, upset, etc., his first instinct is you hold you and protect you in his arms, like he’s shielding you from whatever bad thoughts you’re having. He’ll whisper little reassurances, “it’s okay baby, I’m here. I’m right here.” “Shhh, you’re okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you now”, “don’t think honey, just listen to my voice, just feel me holding you”, etc.
He loves cooking for you, and he’s good at it. You cook too, but it’s not even a competition. It comes naturally to him and he does it with love
Loves kissing the top of your head, especially when you hug him and your head is against his chest. He adores the scent of your hair and the softness against his lips
His voice instantly relaxes you. Sometimes you’ll ramble on about your job, a case, or just all the things that happened on a given day, but the smooth sound of his voice and soft accent reassuring you or offering support subdues you immediately
He also never raises his voice, not with you. It’s something that’s partially due to just how he is, calm and steady, and partially due to your childhood and past experiences with men yelling. He knows you had a rocky childhood and that yelling makes you shut down and go into fight or flight mode. He never wants to add any stress to your life or make you scared of him, so he’s extra careful when you argue about something to not be overly excitable. It’s not hard, given his stoicism, but you appreciate even the little bit of effort he puts into your comfort
Sleeping with him is also one of the most peaceful experiences you’ve had. Like you, he enjoys keeping the room cold but sleeping under thick blankets. He sleeps like a rock, still and quiet and heavy against your body. Usually an arm draped limply across your waist or shoulders, tucking you against his chest. His muscular legs tangled with your smaller ones. His steady heartbeat and soft breaths lulling you to sleep
You love wearing his clothes. Mostly his t shirts and sweatpants, half of which you’ve already stolen entirely
He’s more dominant in bed, although you’re always trying to convince him to let you take control. Still, he’s so gentle and careful not to hurt you
He’s not much of a talker, and prefers just to feel you and hear you breathe and react to him
It’s hard for you to finish sometimes, but he dedicates so much of himself to trying to make you feel safe enough to be fully vulnerable with him, to trust him
You both enjoy classic missionary, usually with his body pressed against yours, his head dipped down to kiss your neck and your shoulder, his chains dangling over your chest
Afterwards he usually gets tired fast, but cleans everything up and holds you. This is actually the one time he’s more chatty, softly talking to you about other unrelated things until you both get sleepy
You love laying with him like this, skin on skin under silk sheets, your head on his chest, tracing your fingers up and down his stomach
Overall, he’s the most loving partner you could ask for and you wouldn’t trade him for anything<3
