i have a lot of thoughts about trafalgar law and intimacy, okay?
trafalgar law is a man of few words. we know this. we know he’s a sarcasm personified, he who speaks only when it’s completely necessary. And when he does speak? it’s blunt. it lacks any softness. he’s unnervingly efficient with his word count.
oh, boy! not when he’s lost in the haze of sex! nope, nu-uh. chatter box, certified babbler. his thoughts are finally quiet when he’s busy with his hands and mouth, too focused on the feeling of pleasure like it’s the latest, greatest, peer-reviewed medical breakthrough. that broody, distanced persona of his flies out the window with his filter. here comes the praise, here comes the begging, here come the sarcasm that feels mean in a really, really hot way.
trafalgar law is a late bloomer. blame the childhood trauma, alright? physical intimacy is something that only seems remotely interesting when he imagines it with someone he feels safe with, someone he trusts — so of course his sexual awakening is stumbling across genderbent sora nsfw fanart that circulates in a sora, warrior of the sea mail-in reader’s club he joins when he’s seventeen. he figures a lot out about himself thanks to the amount of time he spends cranking it to that six panel, colored pencil tendering.
speaking of jerking off, this man is a whimperer. whimper king. big vocal cracks and whimpering, all mashed behind his palm as he tries to keep quiet in his quarters on the polar tang. he’s the sort of man to see something that turns him on, politely ignore it, and let it ruin him when he’s finally alone. he’s a yearner and a whimperer. did i mention that already? he fucking whimpers, okay.
trafalgar law is partial to his own hands. they’re his favorite part of himself; he’s been told they’re big. he’s a toucher — only in the haze of intimacy, though. never unprompted in the day-to-day, no. touch is sacred. touch is important. it shouldn’t be frivolous. that being said, he gets greedy during sex. his hands are everywhere. holding your hips still, pushing your shoulders down, stretching your legs up to your ears.
trafalgar law wants his hands on your tits always. he is a tit man. the tit man. big tits, little tits, he doesn’t give a fuck. if he can grab and knead and squeeze and lick and suck? he’s happy. he loves to see a bounce, no matter how big or little. there’s probably some wild freudian reason for this, but he refuses to DSM-5 his own psycho-sexual proclivities. if he starts, he won’t stop, and:
trafalgar law may be a late bloomer but he is freaky with it. loves the idea of medical roleplay. will play doctor and does have a hard time not being entirely devoted to his role, which is hilarious. law thinks sedated, half-awake sex is kinda hot if you’re into it, bring on the anesthetics. also, will readily submit if you wanna turn the tables. he’s happy on his knees, so put him there.
𖧁୧ - hijikata toshiro x female reader yet another repost, sorry!!
⊹ warnings ; drunken flirting, drinking to cope, sex, teasing, dirty talk, toshi baby can’t resist you, ooc hijikata but shii.. oh well man, swearing, plot what plot?? not stated but reader is written with a black person in mind! updated and rewritten a little, 2,316 wc.
minors dni!
. . . Maybe agreeing to go out drinking with you was a terrible idea after all.
Hijikata came to the conclusion that night. You invited him out for drinks under the pretense of 'it's friday, fuck it. let's drink ourselves to oblivion' or something like that.
You picked the spot. A quaint little hole in the wall with moody lighting and soft jazz. The plush red velvet stools supported his back and allowed him to decompress after the long day he had training his brutes. The both of you sat at the bar, ordering your share of drinks.
You've been working in the Shinsengumi for quite some time. . .Not like he's really talked to you or held a conversation besides greetings.
He knows as the only female desk worker that it's hard and being surrounded by hundreds of scrawny men, you are bound to be thrown through the loop. Especially by the fact you are not bad to look at anyways.
Nonetheless, he's never really seen you out of your element besides. . . working he guesses. Seeing you actually talk (not that robotic voice with the pasted on smile) is really refreshing. Your smile comforting.
You ran shots back to back, obviously ignoring the burning tinge in your throat. 'Drinking to forget' my ass, more like drinking for fucking liver failure. The more you drank, the more comfortable you got with him. Brushing shoulders, sometimes even bumping his knees.
The loose, lackadaisical attitude you have now compared to the strict professionalism you kept is as different as night and day.
The warm lighting favored your soft features, highlighting the curve of your lips and the dip in your collar bone. The hardest part was trying to pull his eyes away from you once you got comfortable.
You began unbuttoning your work blouse a few buttons too low (is that a lace bra you're wearing?), complaining it was 'burning up in here' allowing him to see the soft plush skin
Glancing at anything lower than your face was a hassle, and not wanting to risk you calling him a pervert or 'hey , my eyes are up here fucker!'. He persisted on through the night.
Now Hijikata is a respectful man. He can admit, he's a little tipsy, but on a scale from 1-10, he was on a 4 and you were at 20 at this point.
With that said, He decided it's best to not pay you no attention to you. It's normal, he thought.
However, what's NOT normal is this intense flirting.
"Now that I can really look at you, you're pretty darn attractive," you mutter as you eyed his features. The amber glow in the room highlighted his jawline perfectly. You made no attempt to hide your interest as you swishing your drink around in your hand.
"You're drunk," Hijikata bluntly states, sighing as casted you a quick glance, before looking back ahead at seemingly nothing.
"M' not, I'm just speaking the truth," you reply indifferently, the spiral forming in your drink more interesting.
"You're not drunk? So all those shots 2 minutes ago were just water-"
"You're missing the point! If anything, you should be thanking me!"
The corner of his lip drops in disdain. "For what?"
"For dragging you out and away from that damn job of yours."
". . . It's your job too?"
The glare you point his way promised absolute destruction.
He tries his best to calmly reconsider his next words. "Um. . . okay. Thank you."
"You're oh so very welcome," you coo, like a switch was flipped inside of you, before turning your body towards him.
"Can I kiss you?"
"W-What's with the sudden topic change?!"
Lowering his tone, Hijikata sweat drops. He's really losing his composure over you and your mindless teasing. Taking a swig of his drink, he gives you a one over waiting for your reply.
"It's a yes or no question. I can take no as an answer, I understand boundaries," you reply, peering your eyes over your glass. You lied. You'd never take no for an answer. Imagine having to take his paperwork after missions knowing he rejected you?
"Well, I can answer for you," you mumbled, taking a step off your stool as you tucked your hand to the back of his head, you guided him by the hair down towards you.
With heavy lidded eyes, and parted lips; Your lips were a ghost apart. Touching, but not kissing. You could sense the anticipation radiating off of him.
"Or maybe not," you smile, as you pull away, turning your body back towards the bar and holding your hand up for the waiter.
"What the hell." He grits out. God he could use a cigarette right about now.
"I'm sorry, what's the matter?" your voice is mechanical, exactly like the one you use for the front desk when you finally turn back to reply after ordering another drink.
"What the hell was that?! Why did you– just stand there. . ."
"All I wanted was your honesty. You want the kiss or not?"
"Cut the teasing bullshit, I think i've made my intentions clear,"
"So. . . Is that a yes or what? You've never even said anything-"
"Yes dammit!"
God just put your lips on his already–
As if reading his mind, your lips crash onto his, your hand back again on his cheek as your other feels him in by his collar. Both your lips lock in a desperate, rough, needy kiss, shooting trembles all throughout your spine. Hijikata's hands reconcile on your waist, one exploring even further down to god knows where. His touch felt burning hot against you.
You moan, as Hijikata bites your lip in greeting, both of you exploring each other in this very moment alone. In fear you two might get kicked out for public indecency from how far this kiss was going, you pull away although reluctantly. The both of you pant, lips still a ghost apart as you mutter in between shaking breathes,
"How far do you wanna go tonight?"
"As far as you'll let me."
———
Following Hijikata's long strides ended you both up in the public bathroom. Opening the door and offering for you to go in first (how manly), he follows after you not before locking the door with a distinguishable click.
The restroom had the same vibe as the rest of the restaurant. The type of bathroom you take cute instagram pics in with your girlfriends. Red tiles along the wall and sink, a cheetah print rug and a disco ball pinned in the corner basically summed up your entire night up to this point.
Hijikata turns around and looks at you intently, both of you waiting for the next move.
Before he knows it, you're once again grasping his collar and kissing him, his hands automatically snaking around your hips and pulling you closer.
"Put your hands up." Hijikata orders you like he orders his men.
You oblige, raising a questioning eyebrow as he unbuttons the rest of your shirt, helping you loop your arms out of it.
'It really is lace, black lace at that' he marvels as he kisses your chest, letting you resume.
You continue your trail of kisses slowly down to his jawline, placing a flurry of kisses before you descend down to his neck, taking your sweet time as you nestle your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his signature fragrance of smoke. You unbutton his shirt to get a view of his chiseled chest, continuing the train of kisses.
You crouch down, and the carpet thankfully makes your knees feel better. You slowly but surely make your way down to his pelvic area, your hands resting on his belt.
You unbuckle his pants, and as they pool around his legs, you focus your attention on getting the last layer of his forsaken clothing off, not without noticing the prodding dent in his boxers.
Looping your fingers around the elastic line, not wanting to waste a moment longer, you pull them down.
From above, he peers down at you, taking grasp of your hair, itching with anticipation. With gentle touches, you take a minute to appreciate him in his full glory. Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi letting you suck him off in a bathroom?
In an attempt to clear your mind, you busy yourself with the task in front of you as you seize his cock in your hand, rubbing your thumb over his leaking tip. You slowly trailed your tongue from his balls to tip. Stopping on the tip, you suck on it before making an audible "pop" from your mouth.
Your hand replaces your mouth on the tip as you slowly massage it. Your mouth moves to sucking and placing sloppy kisses on the side of his cock.Your hand progressively starts to get faster as your mouth is now occupied with his balls. Humming as you go, you don't fail to notice Hijikata's grasp in your hair gets tighter the longer you go.
Ready for another change in pace, your hands and mouth switch spots again, your hands now fondling his balls whilst your mouth takes on his fully sheathed cock. Placing the needy tip in your mouth, you swirl your tongue around it, catching Hijikata's half lidded eyes, before sinking down every inch.
Peeking above to see Hijikata's eyes closed in content. His eyes suddenly peer back down to yours, before nimbly noticing and wiping the tears that nestled in the corners of your eyes.
"You're doing such a good job, baby." Hijikata praised, his thumb caressing your cheek.
Drool drips onto your chest the longer you go. With quick movements, you grab Hijikata by the hips and make him bottom out in your mouth. Seemingly getting the message, his hands reach back for your hair as he begins face-fucking you.
Grunts of pleasure spill out of his mouth the longer you go. You could feel him twitching in your mouth. Everything on you felt wet and sticky. You bob your head back and forth as you take Hijikata down your throat, adding your hands into the equation as you stroked him as you sucked. Using your tongue, and deepthroated him, going so far that you wouldn't gag yourself.
"S-shit–", Hijikata sputters out between pants.
Noticing the tell-tale sign of him coming, you pull out completely, grinning in response to his startled face. His sex quivering in desire.
"You fucking tease," he growls, scoffing as he helps you off your knees.
"You love it though," you hummed in response, trying to shimmey off your skirt while Hijikata searched his pockets for a sacred golden packet. Hands coming out empty, he silently curses to himself for not packing them out of all times. Noticing his silent struggles.
"Aha," you quip, finally noticing what's missing, before digging into your purse and pulling out what he wanted. "Need this?" you giggle as you open the packet with your teeth and get on your knees again, rolling it onto him.
"Thank you," he sighs, as you respond by placing a chaste kiss on his cock.
You rejoin him up above by placing another hungry kiss against his lips, and you loop your arms around his neck. He yanks one of your legs up as he aligns himself to your entrance, sliding in between your slick folds.
Pinning your bare back against the tiled wall, he slowly snaked his hand around your throat. Jolting his hips back, he completely bottomed out inside of you. You let out an uncontrollable mewl, while he lets out his own stream of curses into your ear.
"Fuck, your so tight, baby."
Your legs were barely able to stay still as he showed no mercy to the thought of stopping. The sounds of skin slapping filling the vicinity of the bathroom He leaned down towards your ear, still going at his cut throat pace. "Does that feel good, baby?", he whispered, the heat tickling you.
"You look so good with my hand around your throat", he grunted, letting out his own share of moans.
God he was fucking you so well. You could hardly get any words out—
Abruptly, he slowed down his pace, leisurely rocking his hips into yours. Catching your ear in his mouth and peppering kisses to the side of your face. The change in pace so sudden gave you a moment to catch your breath before he pulled out almost completely, before slamming back in.
"F-uck— I can't—!" You gasped, throwing your head back. Your nails sure as hell leave marks on his back after this. You only heard a groan response before he quickly took advantage of your exposed neck and jawline, leaving marks of pleasure.
He advanced to linger deep inside of you, hitting your g-spot right on. And to top it all off, he slowed down, dangerously slow from the pace you started with.
Your legs were damn near about to give out, hell, you could barely feel them.
"L-lift me!" you try to get out as best as you can, before you quickly jump and put your other leg up. Hijikata's hands held your thighs up as he continued to ram into you with no problem.
"Yess," you throw your head back in ecstacy, "Right there—!" fuck you were so close. A smoldering heat was building up in your core, the longer he went.
"C'mon baby, come for me," Hijikata grumbled out, husky voice resonating right next to your ear.
A needy moan spilled out your mouth as he cupped your breast, brushing over the nipple with his thumb. His mouth went on the hunt for the other one, sucking, pulling and biting at one before switching to the other.
One of his hands flicked your clit while he was still inside of you, trying to help you reach that peak. You writhed beneath him, crying out pleas for him to never stop.
"C-coming–!" you heave as your orgasm hits you head on. Your head was dizzy with lust as you contracted around his cock, you felt delirious. Every nerve firing off in ecstasy as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
Hijikata huffed, cursing under his breath as he rocked into you, cumming silently into the condom.
Heavy pants filled the room as you both rode out your high's, your eyes fluttering as you leaned your head onto Hijikata's chest as he held you against him.
"Are you okay?" Hijikata questioned as he kissed your forehead.
"I can't feel my legs. . ." you mutter out, running your fingers through his sweat slicked hair, still clinging to him.
"Who the hell is in the bathroom? I needa go!"
Both yours and Hijikata's eye's lock in bewilderment.
. . .
"Uh. . . give us a second! I mean– give me a second!"
Summary: On a rainy day, Gintoki seeks comfort in the familiarity of your home, and you. If he gives over control, then that's only part of the pleasure ...
Contents: Romance, smut, role reversal, explicit sexual content.
WC: 3516
Dividers by: @starrliqhtt
A/N: A two fic collab, courtesy of my many conversations with @pmpmyread , about how our Gintama faves would respond to having their lovers take control and unravel them in the bedroom. Find her delicious Hijikata fic here!
You're not sure what compels him to keep arriving like this at your door, no explanation given, one hand grasping the frame above your head as he toes off his boots.
A stray seeking shelter from the rain, is what you teasingly wish to call him, but you watch the slow raise of his eyes to yours, and you know that no charity will fall from your lips tonight.
He takes his time, moving close enough for you to register the vital heat of his body, the warm, sweet wash of his breath over the side of your neck, the way his yukata brushes the front of your own robe.
Then he is moving past you, drawled greeting snaking over your ears as he invites himself in.
Well, not quite.
You've allowed him in enough times that it now goes unspoken.
Your home is his domain too, and he leaves his mark on it, because his marks lie on you, from lips, to hair, to throat, to the softness of your thighs, and the flesh of your hips.
It's a landscape he's traversed with familiarity, but you try to keep your thoughts away from that for now, because he really has come in from the rain, and even though he's making his way dutifully for the towels, he's left traces of damp on the floorboards.
You manage to reach the towels before he does, snatching one from the pile. Before he can protest, you've started to dry off his hair a little more vigorously than you should.
"Ow."
"Stop dripping water on my floors."
"Come on. It's not that - "
"I could go fishing in the lakes you've created."
"But you like me wet."
You snap the towel down and away from him, raising an eyebrow.
Oh, there he is, your first clear glimpse of the evening.
Beneath the thoroughly disshevelled peaks of silver hair, eyes that you know turn amber in the sun, now darkened beneath lowered lids, the slow curve of his lop-sided smile, the harder angles of cheek and jaw that could turn him from nonchalant wanderer to warrior in an instant.
With Gintoki, it's all about choice, and your freedom to make such choices.
You're the one who let him in, and here he's lodged himself, a stubborn stone in the seams of your life.
He'd never stay if you didn't want him to.
He does know that you want him, though.
It's in the way you touch him, lingering on the solid lines of chest, arm and abdomen. It sighs across the breadth of him, in the passage of the towel. It rests briefly on his cheek and lips, as you dab moisture off those areas too, rather unnecessarily, in feigned innocence that fools nobody.
He allows you, indulges you as you play your role on a makeshift stage of your own making. He'll hand you this luxury, and other better luxuries, as a reward after all.
"I'm still kinda clammy."
"You know where the bathroom - "
The sentence isn't given a chance for completion as he begins to strip right there in the hallway.
The sodden yukata is off the fastest, shrugged away, tossed towards the back of a nearby chair.
It misses, lands in a heap on the floor.
Your eyes are far too occupied with what comes next to lend much attention to its plight.
He unbuttons his shirt, fingers flicking aside hidden hooks with long practice. The length of his throat, the slight sheen of water dampening his clavicle, the shift and slide of muscle beneath fabric, all visible, and with a rustle, a quick tug sideways on either end, the shirt has been shrugged off.
You take a step back, and he takes one forward.
"Gintoki - "
"I'm cold."
"I can run a bath for you."
He pauses, a moment of supreme attention, his eyes traveling from the way your hair curls around your ear to the silky folds of your own nightrobe, held fast with a clasp between your breasts.
His glance is always frank in its assessment, in its desire. There is nothing he needs to hide from you.
Gintoki wants you too, something else he is fully aware of. There are no nuances here, just your need and his.
"A bath? Sounds good. Don't worry, I do know where the bathroom is."
He tilts his head, taps you lightly under the chin, turns away, and you can't help but watch the bulge and shift of his shoulders as he stretches his arms leisurely over his head.
When he reaches the end of the corridor, right before the bathroom door, he reaches down, casually unbuckles his belt, unzips his trousers.
The dark edges hang free on either side of his exposed pelvis, and even though you can't quite make it out in the dim light, you're well aware of the slightly coarse trail of pale hair that roots down, towards other places you have seen.
"I'll have the water run in ten minutes. You joining me?"
He doesn't wait for an answer, and disappears within.
The sound of water running echoes down towards you, and though you busy yourself briefly in the kitchen, you know exactly what is about to occur within, through that entry rimmed with gold from muted lamplight.
He's going to sit on the edge of the tub, slumped slightly, watching the doorway. The tub will fill slowly behind him as he yawns, stretches again, runs his tongue along his teeth, reaches up to scrub fingers through his hair.
Then he'll pout slightly, stand, swaying, dropping his trousers in one swift push. He'll drag one ankle through, fighting with the clinging material as if it's a piece of sticky tape, before successfully kicking it in the general direction of the laundry basket.
His boxers will follow, peeled away nonchalantly from the curve of his buttocks, sliding down the powerful heft of his thighs ...
This is the point at which your desire gets the better of you.
You turn your back to the kitchen counter, palms resting briefly against the cool surface before pushing off it.
The bathroom door still beckons, a light waft of steam revealed.
He is exactly as you pictured, wholly comfortable in his nudity, rubbing traces of soap off his chin as he readies the scrubbing cloth.
"Hey. Want me to wash your back? I'll wash yours if you wash mine."
It's the same dry joke he always makes, but you know he's not trying to amuse you.
Gintoki likes the routine you have together, even if he doesn't put a name to it.
You shrug and slip into the room.
"Don't forget my - "
"Ticklish spot. I know."
He grins, and you laugh, allowing the robe to fall away from your form.
Gintoki doesn't look away, lingering on your shoulders, elbows, the dip of your waist, your thighs, the way you reach up to bind and cover your hair. He beckons you over.
"Don't take all day. My back hurts."
"Age catching up to you?"
"Okay, you try carrying Sadaharu around all day, on your shoulders."
"Why on earth - "
"He had a thorn in his paw."
"Aren't you the sweetest."
He grunts in indignation, obviously having had enough of your teasing, because those large, warm hands are on your shoulders, and he tugs you closer, until he's situated right behind you.
"Lemme show you how sweet I can get."
"As a strawberry parfait?"
Warm breath traces the side of your neck, and then, the slow, full press of his body against the length of yours.
When he speaks, his voice drops to a lower baritone, the rumble of it a secret known only to you.
"I'm sweeter than that."
Inhaling sharply, you take your lower lip between your teeth as he works up a lather on the washcloth.
"Gintoki, stop."
"Huh?"
"Bedroom."
"Damn, you're bossy toni - "
You cut him off, lips sliding firmly into place over his. He utters a small sound of surprise, immediately responsive, leaning into you with a need that is always intoxicating.
Your hands move up, up, across the swell of his arms, along his shoulders, tracing the broad width of his neck and into his hair.
He breaks for breath, panting, pressing further forward so that you can feel the hardness of him against your thigh.
"Gintoki - "
"Yeah, yeah, bedroom. On it."
Your laughter trails you into the room in question, his arms lifting and bracing you from beneath the thighs.
"Hey, you're lighter than Sadaharu."
"And I know what you have in common with him."
He deposits you flat on your back across the bed, rather unceremoniously.
"In common?"
"You both like to be scratched behind the ear."
He stops dead, eyeing you in the way he did when you were acting, as he calls it, 'dangerous'.
You smile coyly, leaning back on your elbows, crooking a finger.
"What, you're scared now?"
"Frankly, yes."
In lieu of reply, you reach up, fingers trailing over the outer edge of his ear, an echo of his own temptation in the bathroom earlier.
He remains very still, muscles coiling on the verge of action.
Ears, the bridge of his nose, the length of his forehead, you traverse them all, ending your exploration with a light, but firm grip within the soft, messy tangle of his hair.
"Oi, you - "
You didn't give him a chance to go further, grip tightening, tugging him down to you once again.
This time, his lips met yours with a soft groan, tongue prising your mouth open, tasting you with relish, being tasted in turn.
You hold him there, back rising off the bed to press into him, thighs falling open beneath the downward shift of his body.
Tongues swirl and dip into each other, warmth smeared over your lips, across the sides of them as the kiss grows messier, more desperate.
Gintoki bucks against you, harder than he was before, drawing a small gasp from you.
He seems to like that, because he does it again, and again, his slick length finding its unerring path across your abdomen.
His height has rendered him a little further above where he needs to be, and so, grasp still firm in his hair, you guide him, pushing him further down.
Tugged lower, he lets out a sound that has you pause, a soft, half-groan, on the edge of pleading.
Oh, he likes this.
So did you, come to think of it.
You like every new facet of him that you learn of, every scuffed page in the well-thumbed book of his life that he'd invited you to be part of.
It was a privilege, that you got to see him like this, unwound until he didn't have any defences left.
Before you had a chance to turn the tables, Gintoki took initiative himself. Hands curling around your waist, so big, so warm, he swaps places dizzyingly fast, lifting until he is lying prone, and you are hauled upright to straddle him.
His eyes gleam up at you, and in the light from the bedside lamp, he looks like some kind of spirit of the night that had wandered into your bed, wild, playful, the ripple of unyielding strength beneath supple skin, marked with old scars.
"Come on, ride me."
"Thought your back was hurting."
"Well, if I could lug Sadaharu around all day, my back could probably hold out. Bounce on it all ya want, not gonna do me any damage."
"Is that so?"
Taking him up on his challenge, you pass a hand between your bodies, grasping his firm, heated erection. He jerks forward in your grasp, but you have other plans for him.
Gintoki is heavy in your palm, a slight lean to him, not overly long, but thick in a way that made every entry feel like you were being stretched anew.
It seemed that you needed to re-acquaint yourself with every vein and ridge on him, and as far as you were concerned, there was only one way to accomplish this.
Settling over him, now that both of you are aligned correctly, you begin to rock against him, sliding along his length until the tip is just about to breach you, before falling back and repeating the motion.
His eyes are fixed on where your folds part, embracing him on either side, the sheen on your inner thighs that has been slowly building since before you'd taken your clothes off, serving to make your movements easier.
"Hmm ... so worried about puddles on your floor, and look how wet you are."
If he wants to be mouthy, you have no choice but to respond.
You slow your pace, pressing harder against him, massaging his flesh with yours, all while still denying him entry. Hips working purposefully over his, you give him a prelude to what you intend for later.
His eyes have glazed over, seemingly mesmerized by the sight of you on him, hands gripping you tighter.
Pleasure was building with every stroke, mounting to a gentle pressure that threatened to spill all over him.
You yelp slightly as a hard smack stings your buttocks.
Gintoki is now red in the face, breathing hard, sweat beginning to bead his brow.
"Oi, don't come without me. So fucking rude."
A breathless laugh escapes you, truncated as he drags you down towards him. Mouth beside your ear, he holds you in place.
"Put me inside you."
Half-complying, you closed your eyes briefly, allowing his tip to penetrate just past your entrance.
God, even with only this much inside, the stretch is so good.
"There, you're inside."
"You wanna play like this?"
You lean down, kiss him lightly, teasingly.
"Say 'please'."
"I'm gonna - goddamn vixen. Please."
A sudden sharp exhale as you take him all at once, a downward plunge of your hips as he slides home, that burning stretch eased by how wet you are for him.
Gintoki's whole body draws taut, mouth falling open, hands now clutching convulsively at your hips.
"Fuck. Fuck."
It was your turn to whisper to him, a promise laced with subtle mischief.
"Is that another command, sir?"
"God, you're so tight, so fucking hot - "
You drag a palm down his chest, reveling in the ripple of his abdomen as he fights to maintain control.
It isn't as if you are entirely unaffected.
Gintoki fits so perfectly inside you, that intoxicating blend of hard with yielding edges, solid enough to pierce and fill you, flexible enough to reach places inside you that send bursts of silver-flamed heat running through your body.
Fingernails sinking slightly into him, you anchor yourself before allowing him to slip further and further out, until just the tip is within once again, then sheathing him fully.
In spite of the heat building between you, your movements are controlled, within the bounds of awareness of how good you can make him feel.
Riding him with intent, just like he wants, rising to an upright position once again, you brace your knees on the bed and do as you please with him.
He is harder than ever inside you, the heat of him threatening to brand you with familiarity, pearly white traces building along his cock from your mingled arousal.
The way he watches you ignites like a forest fire across your skin, drinking in every lift and drop of your hips, the way he sinks so deep inside, the undulating of your body as you work up a rhythm.
Pausing in your movements, you placed a hand right above where you are joined, tilting your head back as you squeeze him inside you, muscles fluttering on the release.
He rises spasmodically beneath you, heels digging into the bed, a sound somewhere between a growl and a sob tumbling out of him, uncontrolled.
Nipples stiff and peaked beneath your wandering fingers, arms and thighs rigid and trembling, you know exactly how much he is holding himself back.
Gintoki can give as well as he takes, and there is beauty in that symmetry.
You start up your motions again, still steady, making an erotic game of it.
He is still transfixed by the sight of you, the way your hair has come undone, the bounce of your breasts, the soft, wet slaps of your skin against his, the way you ride him just the way he likes.
The next clamp of your walls around him catches him unexpectedly, as you intend. He utters a breathy moan, higher than the low, raspy sounds he'd been making before.
"Hnnnn, don't - I'm gonna - "
A finger over his lips, softer than the harsh buck of your hips.
"You won't. I've got you."
Power, ah, that was it.
He'll let you have this battle, laid out for your pleasure, because he knows you'll let him ruin your body as you do his.
You bait him with guerilla tactics, drawing him into your petal-soft heat, lulling him into the known dance of lovemaking, trapping him in your predatory vice, and he responds every time as you desire.
His hands never know where to settle, from grasping like a drowning man at your thighs and waist each time you grip him, to winding his fingers in the bedsheets above his head, grip white-knuckled, biceps and shoulders rolling and tensing.
The sounds he makes, however, are what drives you to distraction.
All pretense of holding back has deserted him.
Each scrape of your nails through the short, coarse hairs of his chest, each slow drop and squeeze around his cock, each playful tug on his hair has him whimpering, crying out, begging in fits and starts, low guttural moans torn from his throat before they're fully formed.
"Aaaah, fuck, I can't - killing me with that - hnnng - pretty, wet pussy, I - if you keep fucking going like that - "
You respond with a circle of your hips, the sheet beneath where he pierces you now thoroughly soaked.
This proves to be your undoing, surrendering to him in the hubris of your own climax, as the curve just below his tip strokes against that place inside you.
Every nerve in your body thrums to a white-hot, lancing stand-still, sweat tracing down the quivering curve of your spine, one last grasp of his flesh within yours.
These final throes prove too much for him too, and his arm comes up, circling your waist hard, trapping you against him as he howls out his own pleasure, broken and rough-edged.
For a few minutes you lay motionless, slumped against him, both of you breathing as if you'd just run a hundred miles.
Turning your nose into the side of his neck, damp from his exertions, scented intoxicatingly with his sweat, you manage to speak.
"Probably ... woke up all the neighbours."
He has one hand cast backwards over his eyes, hair standing in wild tufts from your repeated tugging.
"Your fault."
"Okay, it is my fault."
"Probably ... packin' their stuff. Must think ... world's gonna end."
"Oh, come on."
"Fuckin' me like it's our ... last day on earth. Woke the dead with your ... witch pussy."
You're laughing now, shoulders shaking with breathless mirth, because Gintoki's mindless pillow talk, right before he drifts off, is always priceless.
"Then you've got what? A warlock cock?"
He sniggers as you tug his hand away, revealing his sex-dazed expression.
"Warlock cock. I like that."
"You would. Hey, don't fall asleep. The sheets are in a state."
"Hmm. Nah. Let's sleep here. In our puddle."
"No. Bathroom. Now."
As you drag one of his heavy arms across your shoulders and pull him out of bed, it occurs to you that thios must feel something like carrying Sadaharu's dead weight around all day.
A mess of soft, pale hair pushes against your cheek, a decidedly fake snore reaching your ears as he pretends to fall asleep.
Eyebrow twitching in annoyance, you can't help but feel a simultaneous rush of deep affection.
'Warlock cock' or not, Gintoki has certainly woven some kind of enchantment over you, one that has little to do with each occasion you happen to fall into bed with him.
It's in the tramp of his boots on the cobblestones outside, the way his head falls with perfect timing into your cleavage after a long day, the walled distance in his eye when something jogs darker memories of times long past.
As with most parts of his life, you've been allocated your own precious niche, tucked somewhere between the demarcation of lover and friend. It's a space you have no choice but to occupy, because he chose to have you there.
It means that even if you decide to end this, he'd be at your side the instant you needed help, because the people he chose mattered far more to him than he ever let on.
It was worth it, that burgeoning, unspoken warmth you always felt at the mere sight of him, fluttering in some secret space of your own.
It was well worth it, you tried very hard to remind yourself, as he almost dragged you face first into the toilet on your way to the bathtub.
im surprised bout how Captain!Reader isn’t all too common
Like imagine all the scenarios with like rivalries with other captains/crews. Enemies to lovers/secret relationship thing with a rival crew member (or a marine), or maybe smth silly like your crew setting you up with someone else
Maybe Captain!Reader’s rlly well-known and feared, or maybe they’re still at the bottom of the food chain trying to get up in the world (with the goal of becoming King of the Pirates???????) see how other’s will react to their s/o with the same goal/similar goals to their captain
IDK i just find the idea rlly fun and has a lotta potential (in my opinion)
(I could??? Write bout this but i dont feel all too confident cuz im still on skypeia…. TAG ME IN ANYTHING LIKE RHIS I NEEDDDD ITTT)
In which you jump out of a moving car to spite Boyfriend!Sukuna
“—because he was just making conversation!”
Sukuna scoffs, knuckles turning white as his grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Bullshit. That guy wanted to fuck you.”
“Oh my god. So what!” you yell. “It’s not like I was gonna fucking let him!”
“Coulda fooled me.”
Just like that, your angry face, which matches his, warps into one of calm decision. With speed he doesn’t see coming, you unbuckle your seatbelt, push open the passenger door and jump out of the moving car into the dead of night.
The car screeches to a halt not even a second later.
You’re pushing yourself up and testing the soreness in your ankle when a car door slams shut and Sukuna comes marching over to you. “You crazy, fucking bitch!” he snaps. Sukuna grabs your face, growling when you try to pull away. He inspects every inch of you, brows furrowed, and piercings glinting under the streetlights. “What the fuck is wrong with you!”
“I got a bitch ass boyfriend, that’s what’s wrong with me,” you grumble.
He ignores that. “You break anything? Wrist? Ankle? Dislocated your shoulder?” You shake your head. “Well, that’s a fucking shame.” Though as he says that, he can’t quite hide the tremors in his hands. Quieter now, he mutters with a tight frown, “Scratched your pretty face up. Fuck. Lost your one redeeming quality.”
“Okay, so I’m gonna walk home,” you say, deadpan. “I’ll see you around, asshole.”
Sukuna runs a hand through his hair with a frustrated noise. Then he smacks his lips against yours before you can actually start walking away (not that he’d let you get very far). “Alright, alright. You fucking win. Congrats. Christ. Get back in the car — we’re going to the hospital to get you checked out. Fucking dumbass.”
A hospital visit later, you’re in bed with him, cuddled up like nothing happened. It’s how arguments with him tend to go; neither of you really hold grudges against each other. Not when you’ve fucked any grievances out after. The last mention of today’s incident, however, comes in his sleepy mumble against the top of your head: “push me out instead.”
“Hmm?”
Sukuna’s hold around your body tightens, threatening to suffocate you with his hard chest. “Don’t jump out of the car. It’s stupid. Your body’s weak. Skin bruises easily. Cuts easily too. Just kick me out instead. I deserve it, I know... bonus points if it's into oncoming traffic.”
stealing your husband’s chocolate and finding out it was laced with an aphrodisiac!
[content: MDNI, crack smųt, a very unserious piece of work, piv, hair pulling, use of aphrodisiacs, sukuna’s sour but then he’s sweet]
Never in your life have you been so horny it hurt.
“Kuna, please—harder,” you cry out.
“I’m going as hard as I fucking can, you little slut,” he snaps, each thrust matching every harsh word that gets spat through his teeth. “THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T EAT RANDOM. CHOCOLATE. ON. THE. COUNTER.”
“I’m sorry! Fuck!! I didn’t know!”
“There was a note saying DON’T eat it—you just didn’t give a shit because you’re a thief and a glutton. A liar now, too,” he continues to scold you over the chocolate bar he was going to give to Jin so he’d stop groveling over his ex. It’s been 6 fucking months, he’s tired of having to listen to him go on and on about Kaori. Enough is enough—he needs to go out and sleep with someone.
And now Jin’s never going to shut up. Sukuna doesn’t even want to look at you right now—let alone reward your behavior with dick.
“And now you’re cryin’ like it’s my fuckin’ fault.” It’s him who should be crying right now. “It’s simple: Leave my fucking snacks alone. I always get multiples of each so you’d keep your grubby little hands off them. Why can’t you just be normal and go in my wallet?? Fuck—Arch that back some more.” He cracks his palm over your ass. “Yeah, hike it up nice and high.”
“I can’t!” It feels like it’s about to break with all the weight he’s putting on it! Both of his hands pinning you down, burying every last inch of his cock inside of you.
He scoffs, nudging for you to close your thighs, then planting his knees right next to yours so they stay that way. “Do you want to cum?”
“…yes,” you whimper.
“Then fucking arch it.”
You sniffle. “Okay.”
He breaks character and huffs out a laugh as he watches you continue to helplessly stretch and squelch around him, making a creamy mess all along his shaft. He straightens his back, big hands now firmly grabbing your hips as he picks up the pace.
“Yeahh—stay right there,” his chest rumbles as he lets out a low, drawn-out groan. The smack of his hips growing louder, driving himself right into that little spot that won’t stop screaming for his attention.
It has his attention now.
The new angle had you whining into the pillow, absolutely reeling from how good he was at this, despite his complaints. He knows how to be rough. Nearly lifting you off the bed once he starts pulling your hips back, heavy balls smacking against your sensitive clit as he makes you meet each and every rough thrust he delivers.
“F-fuckk!” you choke out, barely able to form a coherent sentence as you start babbling out a bunch of words.
“So fuckin’ spoiled.” He complains, but just barely. “C’mon brat—you’ve been working me like a fuckin’ dog, give it to me already.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t believe you. You sound like you’re in heaven right now. “Mmhh—I love you so much.” His scowl deepens. “So, so much—you’re so fucking big.“
“Tch.” He grabs a handful of your hair, then yanks you back until you’re up against his chest, lips grazing your ear while muttering in it. “I don’t want an apology. What I want is for you to cum on my fuckin’ cock already. Or should I just stop?”
“No, no don’t! Please! I’m trying, I swear,” you begin to plead with the man.
“Try harder.” Then he smiled, because he felt you squeeze around him. “Jesus Christ—you need to me talk you through it too? The chocolates supposed to make you horny, sweetheart. Not useless.”
“It’s not my fault,” you whimper, and squeeze around him again, pulling a condescending huff out of him.
“You poor thing,” he hums. “Probably spent the whole day waiting for me to come home so I could make you feel better, huh?”
His breath tickles your ear and you nearly moan. “Mhm—I thought about it all day.”
“Well aren’t you sweet,” he mutters, tone as condescending as ever. “You got what you wanted, too. I’ve been taking care of you for a while now. How many times have I cum in you now?”
“I… I don’t know—“
“Of course you fuckin’ don’t.” He cuts you off, unamused by your answer. “Want me to do it again? Fill you up, make you feel all nice and warm?”
“Please.”
“Give me what I want then. If these sheets aren’t soaked by the time I’m about to cum again, I’m pulling out and finishing on your face,” he lets go of your hair and begins to laugh. You don’t get much of a chance to react before you feel the pads of his fingers on your clit, pulling a gasp out of you once he starts rubbing little circles on top of already fucking you. “Heh—let’s see if playing with this cute little clit saves you.”
And he knows you don’t deserve it—any of it, honestly. Unfortunately, he can’t help himself, not with the reactions he gets out of you. He married you for many reasons—getting to spend the rest of his life with a squirter was one of them. The moment your breathing grows labored and you sound like you’re gonna start to cry, his lids grow heavy and he starts saying all the things he told himself he wouldn’t say today.
"Yeahhh, that’s it, baby—fuuuuck—takin’ it so good.” He is fucking gone. Voice thick, filled with nothing but lust and awe as he presses against your lower belly. “C’mon, you want it here, right? Yeah, you know what to do—don’t let some fuckin’ asshole finish on your sweet little face.”
Yes. Your husband just degraded himself. And you just egg him on without meaning to. You were already whining about how it was too much, the incoherent “want it inside,” just made it better worse.
“I will, I’ll give you so fuckin’ much if you just give me one—just one. Easy. Shit—I’ll fill you up as much as you want afterwards.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, but that doesn’t matter when it’s what has you crying and trembling and finally gushing around his cock.“Yeah, that’s it. That’s it, that’s—fuuuuck yeah. Good job, sweetheart—good fuckin’ job. Fuck.”
Funny enough, he came right after you, which was a relief because that meant his job was done and he was finally able to give his dick a fucking break after hours of feeling like he was working for free, when he had already worked a regular eight hour shift prior. The biggest relief of all was seeing you lie limp in bed, after slightly worrying if you ever actually would.
He leans over you with a smug smile, already having forgotten how much you pissed him off earlier as he moved some hair away from your face. Checking to see if you’re actually asleep or not, then feeling a deep sense of peace when seeing that you are. He presses a kiss against your cheekbone, and in the most loving way hopes you stay that way because he cannot do that again. Then finally, he gets up to use the bathroom.
The peace is only lasts four steps until it’s completely shattered again when he hears your weak voice.
You'd been sitting on the common room couch for hours.
Others came and went, noticing you were still in the same spot, afraid to move. When they approached you, they understood why.
If Team Child burst in, you quickly told them to be quiet. When Rudo came in with Enjin and Riyo, they just exchanged knowing smiles and left without another word.
Zanka was lying across your lap, fast asleep, and every time someone came in making noise, you were afraid they might wake him. You knew he hadn't been sleeping well lately; he'd been training day and night to become, in his words, "the best version of himself," and seeing him sleep so peacefully gave you peace.
Just as you were about to finish reading, he finally woke up. His eyes met yours, and you smiled, stroking his hair.
"Sorry, did I fall asleep?" He asked, his voice sounding even more tired than usual. He didn't even try to get up; he was truly comfortable with his head resting on your lap.
"It's okay," you replied, setting your book aside and stroking his cheek. "You must be very tired."
He reached down and took your hand in his, gently stroking each of your fingers before kissing the back of your hand.
"I'm still tired," he murmured, closing his eyes again. You chuckled softly and went back to reading. You didn't even have time to adjust your position or stretch your legs, but it didn't matter; you were in your favorite spot.
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